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<title>
Travels through Canada, and the United States of North America, in the years 1806, 1807, &amp; 1808: to which are added biographical notices and anecdotes of some of the leading characters in the United States / by John Lambert. Volume 2 : a machine-readable transcription.
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Early American Travel Narratives.
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Selected and converted.
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American Memory, Library of Congress.
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<p>
Washington, DC, 2002.
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<p>
Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.
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<p>
For more information about this text and this American Memory collection, refer to accompanying matter.
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19012175
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General Collections, Library of Congress.
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Copyright status not determined; refer to accompanying matter.
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The National Digital Library Program at the Library of Congress makes digitized historical materials available for education and scholarship.
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This transcription is intended to have an accuracy of 99.95 percent or greater and is not intended to reproduce the appearance of the original work. The accompanying images provide a facsimile of this work and represent the appearance of the original.
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2002/08/07
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<p>
TRAVELS
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THROUGH
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CANADA
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AND THE
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UNITED STATES
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OF 
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NORTH AMERICA
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,
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IN THE YEARS
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1806, 1807, &amp; 1808.
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<note><handwritten>812 1159
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<p>
TO WHICH ARE ADDED,
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BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES AND ANECDOTES OF SOME OF THE
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LEADING CHARACTERS IN THE UNITED STATES.
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<p>
BY JOHN LAMBERT.
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<p>
IN TWO VOLUMES.
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<p>
WITH A MAP AND NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.
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<p>
VOL. II.
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<p>
SECOND EDITION, CORRECTED AND IMPROVED.
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LC
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LONDON:
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PRINTED FOR C. CRADOCK AND W. JOY,
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32, PATERNOSTER-ROW;
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DOIG AND STIRLING, EDINBURGH; AND M. KEENE, DUBLIN.
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1814.
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<note><handwritten>E164 L225
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Printed by Richard Taylor and Co., Printers&apos; Court, Shoe-lane, London.
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<head>
CONTENTS.
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VOL. II.
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<item><p>CHAPTER XXV.
</p><p>Journey to New York. Leave Montreal. La Prairie. St. John&apos;s, Independent Whig. Fellow Travellers. Sloop Dolphin. David. Crossing the Line. Merman seen in the Richlieu River. English Negotiators. Isle au Noix. Anecdote of a Soldier. Cumberland Head. Canoe upset. Ducking. Shelburne Bay. American Hospitality. Lake Champlain. Crown Point. Accident. Floating Ice. Old Ti, or Ticonderago. Gale of Wind. Wood Creek. Run the Vessel ashore. Excursion through the Woods. Whitehall. Capture of General Burgoyne. Account of Saratoga. American Stage Waggon
<hsep>page 1
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXVI.
</p><p>Leave Skenesborough. American Taverns. Hire another Waggon. Dine at Salem. Captain White. Humorous Waggoner. Turnpikes, a profitable Speculation. Travelling by Night. Lansingburgh. Troy. Newspapers. Federalists and Democracts. Stage-coach. Steam-boat. City of Albany; its improved State. Gregory&apos;s Hotel. Mode of Living at Taverns. Town of Hudson. Experiment Sloop, a new Packet Vessel. The Hudson River. Beautiful Scenery. Theological Dispute. Entertainment on board the Sloop. Major Andr&eacute;. West Point. Arrival at New York. Appearance of the City at Night
<hsep>page 28
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXVII.
</p><p>Boarding-House. Evacuation of New York, celebrated on the 25th of November. The Harbour. The Broadway. Bowery Road. Shops. Hotels. Public Buildings. The Park. Caterpillars. The Theatre. Mr. Cooper&apos;s Performances. Richard the Third. Vauxhall. Ranelagh. Wharfs. Warehouses. Shipping. State of New York before the Embargo. Bustle and Activity which prevailed. Melancholy Effects of the Embargo. Annihilation of Commerce
<hsep>page 51
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iv
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<item><p>CHAPTER XXVIII.
</p><p>Places of Worship. Public Buildings. State Prison. Courts of Law. Board of Health. Quarantine Station. Chamber of Commerce. Inspectors of Lumber, &amp;c. Commerce of New York. Increase of Commerce. Abundance of Provisions. Articles brought to Market. Price of Commodities at New York. Charitable Institutions. The Ladies&apos; Society for the Relief of poor Widows with small Children. Newspapers. Literary Fair
<hsep>page 66
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXIX.
</p><p>Number of Deaths at New York. Mode of living in America. The Yellow Fever. Population of New York. Deaths. Church-yards. Funerals. Society of New York. Elegant Women. French and English Dresses. Fine Figures. Delicate Complexions. Bad Teeth, a groundless Charge. Education. Thirst after Knowledge. Arts and Sciences. Literature. Taste for Reading. Salmagundi. The Echo. Barlow&apos;s Columbiad. Smoking. Style of living at New York. Splendid Marriages. Great Fortunes. Anecdote of a Sailor. Quaker&apos;s Meeting. Quakers. Anecdote of a Jew. Singing Schools. Christmas Day. Political Parties. Duels
<hsep>page 81
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXX.
</p><p>Leave New York for Charleston. Take passage in the Calliope. Fellow Passengers. The Irish Knife-grinder. Gun-boats. Quarantine Ground. Sandy Hook. Gulf Stream. Arrival at Charleston. Streets. Houses. Public Buildings. East Bay. St. Michael&apos;s. The Branch Bank. Charleston Library. The Museum. Poisonous Tree. Pernicious Effects of the Pride of India. Turkey Buzzards. Dead Horses. The Golgotha. Negligence of the Municipality. Public Buildings. The Orphan House. The Theatre. Vauxhall. Anecdote of Mrs. S&mdash;. Unfortunate Courtship. The Market-place. Productions. Price of Provisions, &amp;c.
<hsep>page 114
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXI.
</p><p>Population of Charleston. Society. The Planters. Extravagance and Dissipation. Money Lenders. Long Credit.
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</printpgno></pageinfo>Charleston Races. Jockey Club. Race Course. Balls and Concerts. Amusements of the People. Rifle Shooting. Duelling. Sullivan&apos;s Island. Outrages at Charleston. Riots among the Sailors. Consequences of the Embargo. American Seamen enter the British Service
<hsep>page 145
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXII.
</p><p>Servants at Charleston. Slaves. Slave Trade. Slave Merchants. The Bargain Buyer. Observations upon the Slave Trade. The Treatment of Africans. Refined Cruelty. People of Colour and Mulattoes. Negro Characteristics. Religious Fanaticism. Methodist Preachers pelted in their Pulpits. Manners of the Negroes. An Anecdote of a Negro and his Wife. Their intrepid Death. Religion. Service of the Episcopal Churches in the United States. Methodist Meetings. Marriages. Funerals. Novelty of an Undertaker&apos;s Profession in Charleston. Charitable Societies. Free Masons
<hsep>page 163
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXIII.
</p><p>Legislature of South Carolina. City of Columbia. Revenue. Expenses of the City of Charleston. Taxes. Courts of Law. Curious Trial. Portraits of Washington and Hamilton more saleable than those of Jefferson. Review on Charleston Race Ground. Militia of South Carolina. Volunteer Corps of Charleston. Field-day. Military Force of the United States badly disciplined. Satire upon American Discipline. A Militia Muster
<hsep>page 183
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXIV.
</p><p>Arts, Sciences, and Literature of South Carolina. Newspapers. Incomes of the Planters. Houses. Productions of the Soil. Implements of Husbandry. Waggons. Sledges. Grasses. Pasture Lands. Manufactures. Gunpowder. Grist Mills. Manufactories of Cordage. Commerce of South Carolina. Neutral Trade. Conduct of the Belligerents. Exports from Charleston
<hsep>page 203
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<item><p>CHAPTER XXXV.
</p><p>Climate of South Carolina. Musquitoes. Whirlwinds. Storms of Hail. Immense Hailstones. Remarkable Sleet. Sudden Changes of Weather. State of the Weather in Charleston for 1807. Stranger&apos;s Fever. Mountains covered with Snow. Vicissitudes of Climate. Obituary from the Bills of Mortality in Charleston during five years
<hsep>page 216
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXVI.
</p><p>Journey from Charleston to Savannah on Foot. Four-Mile House. Ashley River. Rantowle&apos;s Creek. Pine Barrens. Live Oaks. Moss. Solitary Walk through the Woods. Lose my Way. Meet a Negro. Arrive at the Twenty-three Mile House. Tavern-keeper. Anecdote of Mr. C&mdash;. Resume my Journey the next Morning. Overtake a travelling Negro. Arrive at the Village of Jacksonborough. Dine there. Get into the Stage. Fellow Passengers. A French Traveller. His Opinion of the Americans. Bonaparte&apos;s Death. A new Revolution in France. Pocotaligo. Coosywhatchie. Arrive at Purrysburgh. Col. Purry. Indian Tumuli. Negro Boat Song
<hsep>page 226
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXVII.
</p><p>Savannah. Colonel Shelman&apos;s Hotel. Yazoo Bubble. Character of the Georgians. Settlement of Georgia. Augusta. St. Mary&apos;s. Town of Savannah. Houses. Streets. Pride of India. Promenade. The Exchange. Assembly-Room. Population of Savannah. Burying-Ground. Hurricane of 1806. Arts and Sciences. Military Force. Religion. American Fanaticism. Camp Meetings. Blasphemous Scenes. Midnight Orgies in the Forest, compared with the gentle and sublime Conduct of the Redeemer. Mild Doctrines of Christianity. The Christian Religion a Religion of Charity and Benevolence to all the World
<hsep>page 256
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXVIII.
</p><p>Leave Savannah. Excursion up Savannah River. Inundations. Swamp Plantations. Alligators. Anecdote of an Alligator.
<pageinfo><controlpgno entity="p0007">0007
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</printpgno></pageinfo>Terrebins. Water Vipers. Rattle Snakes. Journey through the Woods. Black Snakes. Variety of Birds. Beautiful Plumage. An Adventure in the Woods. A disinterested Physician. Fire in the Forest. Immense Body of Smoke. Seasons of South Carolina. Cotton Plantations. Bad Roads. Waggoners or Crackers. Roads of South Carolina. Arrive at Charleston
<hsep>page 276
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XXXIX.
</p><p>Leave Charleston. Embark for New York in the Calliope Packet. Gale of Wind. Drunken Pilot. Anecdote of a Negro Pilot Arrival at New York. Melancholy Effects of the Embargo. Leave New York in the Stage for Boston. Pass through Haerlem. Newhaven. General Bradley. The two Crowninshields. Virginian Drams. Virginian Fighting. Gonging, Kicking, and Biting. Fight between a German Gentleman and a Carolinian at Monte Video. Arrive at Hartford. Manners of the People of Connecticut. Productions. General Face of the Country. Stafford Springs. Handsome Houses and Churches. Arrive at Worcester. Crim. Con. Universalists. Marlborough. Dispute about building a Church. Congregationalists. An American Election. Characters of the New Englanders. Prejudices of former Travellers. Lower Orders. The &ldquo;French Mounseer.&rdquo; Lower Orders of the English. Dress and Manners of the New England Females
<hsep>page 291
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XL.
</p><p>Arrival at Boston. Agreeable Situation. Beacon Hill. The Park. East Boston. Longwharf. Market Places. New Hotel. Population of Boston. Religion. Manners of the first Settlers. Rigidity of Character. Governor Hancock. His Partiality to Negroes and Animosity to Theatres satirized by the Echo. Visit to the Theatre and the Circus. Captain Girod. Colonel Moulin. Captain de Frotte. Their extraordinary Escape from Fort Joux in Franche Comt&eacute;. Literature. Newspapers. Military Funeral. Manufactures. Contrast between the Northern Merchant and the Southern Planter. Visit to Bunker&apos;s Hill. Plymouth
<hsep>page 326
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<item><p>CHAPTER XLI.
</p><p>Biographical Notices and Anecdotes of some of the most eminent Public Characters in the United States&mdash;Thomas Jefferson. James Madison. John Adams. Aaron Burr. Blannerhasset. General Hamilton. John Randolph. Gardenier. Albert Gallatin. Thomas Addis Emmet. General Moreau. Madame Jerome Bonaparte. Robert R. Livingston. Joel Barlow. Chief Justice Jay. Commodore Barron. Dr. Mitchill. General Pinckney. James Munroe. Commerce of the United States. Exports and Imports for 1807. Duties upon Imports at the principal Sea-port Towns. Salaries of the principal Officers of the Government. Names of the separate States belonging to the Federal Republic. General statistical View of the United States for a Period of Twenty Years
<hsep>page 353
</p></item>
<item><p>CHAPTER XLII.
</p><p>Leave Boston. Crowded Stage. Concord. Keene. Walpole. Newspapers. Diffusion of Knowledge and Information among the Country People. Leave New Hampshire. Enter Vermont. Origin of its Name. Stupendous Mountains. Particulars respecting Vermont. Arrive at Rutland. Indisposition there. Canadian Merchant. Quaint Phrases and Expressions of the Americans. An American Language. Christian Names. Arrive at Middlebury. Vergennes. Bad Roads through the Forests. A remarkable Thief. Arrival at Burlington. Account of that Town. Meet David. Continue my Journey to St. Alban&apos;s. Cross the Lake. Choisy. Potash Manufactory. Journey from thence to La Prairie. Arrive at Montreal
<hsep>page 495
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TRAVELS,
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&amp;c. &amp;c.
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<head>
CHAPTER XXV.
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<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Journey to New York&mdash;Leave Montreal&mdash;La Prairie&mdash;St. John&apos;s&mdash;Independent Whig&mdash;Fellow Travellers&mdash;Sloop Dolphin&mdash;David&mdash;Crossing the Line&mdash;Merman seen in the Richlieu River&mdash;English Negotiators&mdash;Isle au Noix&mdash;Anecdote of a Soldier&mdash;Cumberland Head&mdash;Canoe upset&mdash;Ducking&mdash;Shelburne Bay&mdash;American Hospitality&mdash;Lake Champlain&mdash;Crown Point&mdash;Accident&mdash;Floating Ice&mdash;Old Ti, or Ticonderoga&mdash;Gale of Wind&mdash;Wood Creek&mdash;Run the Vessel ashore&mdash;Excursion through the Woods&mdash;Whitehall&mdash;Capture of General Burgoyne&mdash;Account of Saratoga&mdash;American Stage Waggon.
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<p>
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On
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 the afternoon of the 10th November I left Montreal in company with the American captain, and crossed over in a canoe to Longueil, which lies on the south-east shore of the St. Lawrence,
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nearly opposite the city. There we hired a calash, and proceeded about nine miles up the river to La Prairie de la Madelaine, a small village which derived its name from the extensive meadow land in its vicinity, dedicated to Mary Magdalen. This place contains about 100 houses, a church, and two or three inns kept by Americans; but the town is inhabited mostly by French Canadians. It is the medium of communication between Montreal and St. John&apos;s, and of the commerce carried on between the United States and Lower Canada.
</p>
<p>
We slept at La Prairie that night, and next morning set off for St. John&apos;s in an American stage drawn by three horses. Though I was still in Canada, yet the novelty of such a vehicle made me fancy myself already in the States; and the illusion was increased by meeting with American inn keepers who spoke English, and in every thing else presented a great contrast to the 
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ma&icirc;tres des postes
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 on the other side of the river. About seven miles from La Prairie we stopped at an American tavern to breakfast, and for a quarter of a dollar were plentifully supplied with beef-steaks, eggs, and tea; and, to add to the pleasure of our 
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dejeun&eacute;
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, were attended by a very pretty girl.
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<p>
A few Habitant houses and farms are scattered along the road; but a great part is yet uncultivated. Within two or three miles of St. John&apos;s
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the road reaches the Richlieu river, and, bending to the right, proceeds along its bank until it approaches that village. The country on the east or left bank of the river is unsettled, and covered with thick woods on the other side; along the road, towards the village, there are a few indifferent farms; it has the appearance of a new country, though it is upwards of seventy years since the fort at St. John&apos;s was constructed. We arrived at St. John&apos;s about one o&apos;clock; and having been recommended to Watson&apos;s tavern, I put up there till the wind was favourable for the vessel to sail.
</p>
<p>
The village of St. John consists only of one short street of houses, most of which are stores and inns. Among the latter Cheeseman and Watson&apos;s are the best. They are Americans, and the former keeps the best inn at La Prairie; he is also owner of most of the stages which run between the two places. Accommodations at both taverns are, however, very indifferent, though superior to what are afforded at the Canadian post-houses. There is a custom-house in this village, where the exports to and imports from the States are registered, and the duties paid. It stands in the fort, which is situated about two hundred yards from the village. The latter contains a magazine, a few pieces of cannon, and a detachment of soldiers; but it is altogether incapable of effectual defence. The fortification consists of a sort of earthen redoubt, thrown up
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around a few houses and a magazine, and strengthened with cedar picketing.
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<p>
I had waited two days at St. John&apos;s, during which I was prevented going out of doors in consequence of the wet weather and bad roads, when I was informed that the vessel in which I was to have sailed had taken advantage of a favourable breeze and left the town in the middle of the night. I was much vexed at this news, as it was uncertain when another vessel would come in, and it was expected that the lake would be frozen over in a few days. I was also astonished that the captain never came to inform me that he intended to sail, and could not help suspecting that my landlord had played me a trick in order to detain me longer in his house.
</p>
<p>
I was therefore obliged to remain three days longer in imprisonment at this miserable village. I amused myself with reading an old book which the landlord lent me, called The Independent Whig, published in 1720, and containing much satire and invective against the high church or Tory party, and the ministers of the established religion. This book was formerly much read in the English colonies of America, and tended greatly to assist that spirit of independence and republicanism which afterwards led to the Revolution.
</p>
<p>
On Sunday afternoon a small sloop came in
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from Burlington, which I understood was immediately engaged by three gentlemen at Cheeseman&apos;s tavern to take them to Skenesborough. While I was preparing to go down to the wharf the master of the vessel called upon me, and I instantly engaged a passage to the same place. He was to discharge his cargo that afternoon, and to sail at night if the wind became favourable. A Mr. Welch soon after arrived at Watson&apos;s, and as he was going to New York he also took his passage in the same vessel; and it was agreed that the captain should call for us when he was ready to start. So anxious was I not to miss this opportunity of quitting a place which had now become completely disagreeable to me, that I would not go into bed, but merely laid myself down in my clothes. My precautions were however useless, as it was not till nine o&apos;clock the next morning that the vessel was ready to sail. Having entered our names at the guard-house, we went on board, and immediately got under weigh with a light breeze.
</p>
<p>
I was agreeably surprised to find that one of the three gentlemen who had engaged the vessel was Mr. Storrow, an American merchant, whom I had met at Dillon&apos;s Hotel: he was returning to Boston by the way of New York, in order to arrange his affairs previous to his opening a store at Montreal the following spring. The other two
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gentlemen were his acquaintance: one of them, Mr. Henry Mackenzie of the North-west company, was going to New York, and from thence to England, upon the company&apos;s concerns: the other was Mr. Lyman, a druggist of Montreal. This gentleman was born in the United States, but found it more profitable to reside in Canada, where he carries on a considerable trade with his native country. Mr. Welch was going to New York, and from thence to South Carolina to recover some property for a mercantile house at Hull. Thus it fortunately happened we were all bound for the same city, a circumstance which made me consider the delay I had experienced at St. John&apos;s in a less unfavourable point of view; for, had I gone in the first vessel, which I afterwards learnt went no further than Burlington, I should have had to travel upwards of 400 miles through a strange country by myself; and those who have been in the habit of travelling in America will easily conceive the satisfaction I felt in meeting with agreeable companions on this journey.
</p>
<p>
The sloop in which we were embarked was a wretched vessel. It had formerly been a regular trader, but being worn out was laid up for sale at Burlington. It was afterwards bought by four men for 100 dollars, upon condition that, if it was seized by the officers and condemned as unfit for
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service, the money was to be returned. Two of the purchasers agreed to navigate her to St. John&apos;s with a cargo of butter and cheese, intending to return to Burlington with another freight. This was agreed to, and the vessel came in on the Sunday, as I before mentioned; but instead of returning back to Burlington, she was engaged by out party to go to Skenesborough. The offer was tempting; and with several barrels of potash and butter which they took on board for that place, the voyage was likely to turn out very advantageous, particularly if the vessel was seized on her arrival, as they expected; for then the purchasers would recover their 100 dollars again, and have all the freight and passage money as clear profit. The man who commanded the vessel was called Robert; and the other who acted in the capacity of mate and foremastman was named David. Neither of them knew much of the navigation of the Lake, even between Burlington and St. John&apos;s, and both were perfectly ignorant of it from Burlington to Skenesborough, which is upwards of 80 miles further.
</p>
<p>
Our prospects, it must be owned, were rather gloomy. We had to cross a lake above 150 miles in length, and in some parts 20 miles in breadth, in the very worst season of the year, when snow storms happen almost every day, and render the navigation of the lake even more dangerous than
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the ocean; added to which, we were in a crazy leaky vessel, without a boat to go ashore in, or a spare rope in case of accident. The sails were in rags, the pumps choked up and broken; and we were obliged to bale out the water from under the cabin every two hours with a tin kettle. To increase our difficulties we had two ignorant men to pilot us, who were as little acquainted with the management of a vessel as they were with the navigation of the lake.
</p>
<p>
Fortunately for us the weather was fine; and instead of ruminating upon the dangers we were likely to encounter, we amused ourselves by laughing at the unskilfulness of the captain and his mate, particularly the latter, whose fears lest the vessel should be upset at every puff of wind afforded us much diversion. He continually kept fast hold of the peak hallyards, and at every little breeze instantly lowered the peak, exclaiming, &lsquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Whnt aa awful wind! It blows nation stout!
</hi>
&rsquo; The singularity of his expressions and his fears made us laugh very heartily; and as he was rather a humorous fellow, he took our jokes in good part.
</p>
<p>
About two o&apos;clock in the afternoon we crossed the 
<hi rend="italics">
line
</hi>
 in latitude 45 north. But as it was only the 
<hi rend="italics">
boundary line
</hi>
 between Canada and the United States, 
<hi rend="italics">
Neptune
</hi>
 and his 
<hi rend="italics">
spouse
</hi>
 did not condescend to pay us a visit. As some incredulous persons may, however, doubt that the Richlieu river possesses
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its gods and goddesses, like the ocean, I shall, for their information, acquaint them, that an ancient French Jesuit missionary positively declared that 
<hi rend="italics">
he saw a merman
</hi>
 in that river, three leagues below Chambly, and has recorded it in his writings! Though we received no visit from these 
<hi rend="italics">
marine gentry
</hi>
, yet it will appear that some of our party paid them a visit in the course of the night; and though the ceremony of 
<hi rend="italics">
shaving
</hi>
 was omitted, yet that of 
<hi rend="italics">
ducking
</hi>
 was carried into full effect.
</p>
<p>
The boundary line is about 18 miles from St. John&apos;s, and passes across the Richlieu river within a few miles of Lake Champlain. Hence the Canadians are completely shut out from the lake in case of war, and even from the water communication with their own territory in Missisqui bay. The greatest part of this bay lies in Canada, and is thus cut off by this line of demarcation, so ignorantly or pusillanimously allowed by the English negotiators in the treaty of peace with the American States in 1783. In case of war, the Americans have every advantage over the Canadians, by confining them to the narrow channel of Richlieu river; and the ill effects of it have been already experienced since the embargo, as the rafts of timber were not permitted to come out of Missisqui bay for the purpose of passing down the Richlieu river. The laws however were
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broken in several instances; but the parties were liable to fine and imprisonment. If the line had been drawn across the wide part of Lake Champlain, the Americans could never have stationed their gun boats with such effect as they did in 1807 in the Richlieu river, by which means they interrupted the communication between the two countries by water, and seized great quantities of goods.
</p>
<p>
From St. John&apos;s to the entrance of the lake there are scarcely any settlements. Both shores are lined with woods, consisting chiefly of pines which grow to a great height. A few straggling log-huts are seen at intervals, but otherwise it is completely in a state of nature. The Isle au Noix is situated near the line. Upon it are the remains of a small fortification, which had been successively occupied by the French, English, and American armies during the several wars which have occurred in that country. The name of the island used sometimes to be given out for the parole upon those occasions; and it is related of an English officer during the American war, who, upon being challenged by the sentinel, gave the word &ldquo;Isle au Noix&rdquo; in the true pronunciation, that the sentinel refused to let him pass. The officer persisted he was right, and the soldier maintained he was wrong; till at length the former, recollecting himself, cried out &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Isle of Nox.
</hi>
&rdquo;
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</pageinfo>
&mdash;&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Pass
</hi>
,&rdquo; said the soldier; &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
you have hit it at last!
</hi>
&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
The weather, though clear and dry, was extremely cold and frosty; and we had nothing to make a fire in, but an old broken pitch pot which could barely hold the wood. Our dinner consisted of some cold boiled beef and tongue, which we brought with us from St. John&apos;s; and there being some potatoes on board, we boiled them in a large iron tea-kettle. We appropriated it to that use, as it was not wanted to boil water for tea; having none of the requisites for that meal on board. About five in the afternoon we passed Windmill Point, and entered the lake. We kept as close as possible to the shore, the captain being obliged to report his vessel at the custom-house on Cumberland Head. There being little wind, the sloop glided smoothly through the water; and as the evening closed in, the moon favoured us with her borrowed light, and enabled our unskilful mariners to avoid the craggy rocks which in many places line the shore. Some of us now wrapped ourselves up in buffalo robes, or great coats, and lay down in the cabin, more as a shelter from the cold frosty air than to procure repose. One or two remained upon deck; for there were not births enough for the whole of the party, having two Americans on board, whom we were to put ashore near the custom-house.
</p>
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<p>
About midnight the vessel arrived off Cumberland Head, upon the hearing of which we all went upon deck. Being unwilling to cast anchor for the short time we had to stay at this place, we were obliged to run the vessel upon some rocks near the shore; and not having a boat, we hailed a tavern at some distance in which we perceived a light. Nearly an hour elapsed before we could make any person hear. At length a man came down to the water-side; and being told what we wanted, he soon after came along-side the sloop in a canoe half-full of water. The tin kettle was immediately handed down to him; but his canoe was so very leaky that the water came in as fast as he baled it out. The man, therefore, finding his exertions useless, desired the captain to get in and never mind the water. Robert accordingly complied, and was immediately followed by Mr. Lyman, who wished to get something warm to drink at the tavern; as it then froze very hard, and our fire had gone out. At the moment I was almost inclined to accompany him ashore; but not admiring the idea of sitting nearly knee deep in water, I remained on board: and it was fortunate for me that I did; for Mr. Lyman and the captain had scarcely seated themselves on the gunnel of the canoe when it upset, and all three were completely ducked. On board we were at first alarmed, as they appeared to be out of their depth, and were
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looking about for a rope to throw overboard, when we saw them upon their feet making towards the beach, nearly up to their necks in water. The man who had brought off the canoe ran home as fast as possible; while Mr. Lyman and the captain, having dragged the canoe ashore, made the best of their way to the tavern.
</p>
<p>
When we found they were safe, we could hardly refrain from laughing at the adventure, and the disappointment of the boatman, who little expected that a ducking in the lake at midnight, in frosty weather, would be his only reward. Our tin kettle was lost; for though by the light of the moon we were enabled to see it, we could not fish it up again. Necessity, therefore, obliged us to resort to our last utensil on board, the tea-kettle, for baling out the water, which seemed to gain very fast upon us, and was nearly up to the cabin floor. About ten minutes after Mr. Lyman came on board in the canoe with his clothes 
<hi rend="italics">
frozen
</hi>
 upon him. The people at the tavern had refused both him and Robert admittance; and though they mentioned the accident they had met with, yet they were inhumanly ordered away, and not allowed even to dry themselves. Robert was then obliged to go to the custom-house, drenched to the skin; and when he afterwards came on board his clothes had become 
<hi rend="italics">
a solid mass of ice!
</hi>
 We had plenty of brandy on board, and with that they
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contrived to throw off the effects of the cold; so that fortunately neither of them received any injury.
</p>
<p>
We were nearly two hours before we could get the vessel off the rocks. At length having succeeded, we coasted along the shore till four o&apos;clock in the morning, when we arrived in a small bay in the township of Shelburne, about 60 miles from St. John&apos;s, situate in the widest part of the lake. Here we went ashore to the first farm-house, at a little distance from the bay. The door was only on the latch, and we entered; but the people were not yet up. Having awaked the master of the house, and told him our situation, he said we were welcome, and that he would get up immediately. In the mean time we collected some wood, and putting it upon the live embers in the fire-place soon made a large fire. This was a most comfortable relief after the cold night we had passed on board our miserable sloop. We found that a considerable quantity of snow had fallen in this part of the lake, though we had not met with any during the passage.
</p>
<p>
The master of the house with two of his sons were soon up, and having put the kettle on the fire made preparations for breakfast. About six o&apos;cock his wife and daughters, two pretty little girls, came into the kitchen where we were assembled, and in the course of half an hour we
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had the pleasure of sitting down to a 
<hi rend="italics">
substantial American breakfast
</hi>
, consisting of 
<hi rend="italics">
eggs, fried pork, beef-steaks, apple-tarts, pickles, cheese, cyder, tea, and toast dipped in melted butter and milk.
</hi>
 We were surprised at seeing such a variety of eatables, as it was not a tavern; but the farmer was a man of property, and carried on the farming business to a considerable extent. He showed us a great number of cheeses of his own making; and for churning butter he had made a kind of half barrel, with a place for one of his young boys to sit astride as on horseback. This machine moving up and down answered the double purpose of a churn for making butter, and a rocking-horse for his children.
</p>
<p>
Having made an excellent breakfast, we inquired of our worthy host what we had to pay: he said he should be satisfied with a York shilling (about 7
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 sterling): this, however, we considered too small a sum for the trouble we had given him and his family, and the handsome manner in which he had entertained us; we therefore gave him a quarter of a dollar each, that being the tavern price for breakfast. We then took our leave, and went on board our vessel, equally pleased with the disinterested hospitality of the American farmer, as with the comfortable refreshment we had received at his house. His conduct formed a striking contrast to that of the tavern-keeper at Cumberland
<pageinfo>
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Head, who refused Mr. Lyman and the captain admittance after their accident.
</p>
<p>
Lake Champlain is beautifully diversified with islands, some of which are of great extent and well, settled. The Isle of La Motte lies at the entrance of the Richlieu river, near the tongue of land which forms Missisqui Bay to the eastward. But the most extensive is Grande Isle, which is 24 miles in length. In the centre of it is a small isthmus, over which the ferry-boats are dragged when crossing the lake: but for this narrow piece of land Grande Isle would be divided into two islands. The Americans have changed the French name to North Hero, and another island of considerable size below it is called the South Hero. The smaller isles which are scattered in various parts of the lake add much to the beauty of the scenery; particularly a cluster of islands called the Brothers, situated at the south end of the lake, a few miles from Burlington. I was informed that in this part the lake had no bottom, at least none had yet been found, though soundings have been attempted with above 200 fathom of line. This beautiful piece of water was originally called Corlaer&apos;s lake, but received its present name from the celebrated M. de Champlain, founder of the colony of New France or Canada, of which he was governor. Along the shore of the lake are to be seen numerous houses; many of them handsome, and all
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far superior to those of Canada, with well cultivated farms prettily varied by clumps of trees that have been purposely left in clearing the land. The west side belongs to the state of New York, and the east to the state of Vermont. The shores are in many places bold and elevated; in others gently rising from the water&apos;s edge towards the base of lofty mountains, which are very numerous in both states, but particularly in Vermont, which may almost be reckoned the Switzerland of the United States. Some of the mountains are said to be nearly 4000 feet above, the level of the sea.
</p>
<p>
It was about eight o&apos;clock in the morning of the 17th of November when we sailed from Shelburne Bay. The weather was fine, the wind favourable and blowing pretty fresh, so that we put to sea again (if I may be allowed the expression) in high spirits. The leaks in the vessel, however, increased so fast, that one hand was obliged to be constantly baling the water out. As this was so very troublesome, and indeed not altogether effectual, I went into the hold among the barrels of potash and kegs of butter to endeavour to find out the leak. After a long search I discovered the principal one close to the keelson. A small quantity of oakum and a caulking-iron happened to been board, but neither hammer nor mallet I however procured a thick piece of wood, and managed to stop up the leak in a tolerable manner;
<lb>
VOL. II
<hsep>
C
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but was obliged to be very careful not to hammer too hard, lest I should have forced the iron through the bottom of the vessel, which was completely rotten. After this we baled the sloop nearly dry, and were but little troubled with the smaller leak during the remainder of the passage.
</p>
<p>
About three o&apos;clock in the afternoon we passed Crown Point, a place much celebrated during the French and American wars. The fortifications, which are now in a dilapidated state, are situated on a point of land that commands the entrance of South river. The surrounding country is lofty, and covered with thick woods interspersed with a few settlements. Soon after our entrance into South river we ran aground upon a shoal, and could not get the vessel off again without unloading part of her cargo. We immediately hailed a man on shore, who came off to us in his boat. By his assistance we procured a large scow, and took out several barrels of potash, which lightened the vessel and caused her to float into deep water, where we anchored to take in the potash. Having accomplished this, we engaged the man to pilot us to Skenesborough, about forty miles further, as we found that the navigation became more intricate in the narrow channels, and the captain and his man were perfectly ignorant of the place.
</p>
<p>
The delay we had experienced by this accident prevented us from getting under weigh till nearly
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dark; soon after which it began to blow very hard from the north-west. We also met several shoals of ice, through which the vessel penetrated with difficulty; and David was continually calling out that it would cut the bows and sink her: and then to keep up our spirits, he related an accident that happened to one of the sloops upon the lake, which in endeavouring to get through the ice was cut through the bows, and sunk a considerable distance from shore by which several lives were lost.
</p>
<p>
The ice which we met with was not sufficiently thick to be dangerous, but it made noise enough to frighten a stouter heart than David&apos;s. The wind had also increased to a gale, and though in our favour, yet we did not like to venture into the narrow and intricate channel of Wood Creek before day-light. We therefore came to anchor by advice of our new pilot, who by the by now seemed to be little better acquainted with the place than the other men; yet as he still professed to know more than they, we reposed some degree of confidence in him. It was scarcely day-light the next morning when we got the vessel under weigh. We kept going at an easy rate under the jib, till we reached Ticonderoga, or, as David called it, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Old Ti.
</hi>
&rdquo; This celebrated place, though now as much neglected as Crown Point, is situate on the western shore, near the entrance of a narrow inlet leading to Lake St. George, and commanding the
<lb>
C 2
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passage across Wood Creek. The fortifications were seated on an angle of land, very steep and lofty, surrounded on three sides by water, and covered with rocks. They were however commanded by some eminences in their vicinity, and upon which the Americans threw up some works.
</p>
<p>
We now saw the danger we should have been exposed to had we passed this place in the night. Two large piles appeared just above water in the middle of the river. They had been sunk by the Americans during the war, when they threw a boom across to obstruct the passage of the British flotilla. The entrance of the creek leading to Skenesborough was also extremely narrow, and intersected with several little islands or shoals covered with reeds and long grass, which in many places divided the creek into channels barely wide enough for the vessel to pass. Our pilot was often puzzled which channel to take, and confessed that it was a long time since he had been that way. A few stakes now and then pointed out the course; but for the most part we ran it at hazard, and with imminent danger of striking upon some of the shoals.
</p>
<p>
The gale continued to increase, and we were obliged to use great precaution in avoiding the numerous islets with which this creek abounds. While we sailed in a straight direction the wind was directly aft; but being much oftener obliged
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to make a serpentine course, it was sometimes on our quarter, at other times on our beam, and frequently on the bow. The wind also came in such sudden flaws off the mountains which line the shores of this creek, that the sloop had several narrow escapes from being upset, and was often near on her beam ends. In one of the gusts the main boom broke away from the stern, knocked down the captain and pilot, and carried Mr. Storrow&apos;s hat overboard. As we had no boat, we could not go after it, and the vessel was going too fast through the water to put about in such a narrow and confined channel. We were then about ten miles from Skenesborough; and as several of the smaller channels were frozen up, we expected every moment to find our passage obstructed by the ice.
</p>
<p>
This narrow river, which has very properly received the name of Wood Creek, runs between a chain of lofty mountains, which present a series of hanging woods and rocks rising up in ranges one behind the other to an immense height. The whole appears in a complete state of nature, covered with immeasurable forests: nor did we meet with more than a few solitary huts during the whole of our passage through this labyrinthian stream. The scenery was indeed sublime, but very forbidding; and the season of the year by no means tended to soften its aspect.
</p>
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<p>
About noon we arrived within three miles of Skenesborough, near a bend of the river, where we found our progress suddenly arrested by the ice, which entirely blocked up the channel. The wind was powerful enough to have forced the vessel through it, and we cut a passage for two or three hundred yards; but finding the bows of the sloop much chafed, and apprehensive that they would not long withstand such a pressure of ice, we ran her ashore, and made her fast to the trees. We were now in the midst of a dreary forest; and though but a few miles from the place of our destination, yet there was neither road nor path to it. We, however, all set out under the guidance of our pilot, who knew the direction in which Skenesborough lay, and with our baggage upon our shoulders commenced our march through the woods. After nearly two hours toilsome walk over broken trunks of trees, up hill and down dale, across bogs and through brushwood and brambles, we arrived at Skenesborough. Here we put up at the only inn in the place, and were glad enough to rest and refresh ourselves after our fatigues.
</p>
<p>
The village of Skenesborough, or, as it is now called by the Americans, 
<hi rend="italics">
Whitehall
</hi>
, is situate in a wild romantic country as yet but little cultivated or improved. It contains very few houses: but its principal resources are derived from the falls in its vicinity, upon which are built some saw
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and flour-mills; and from the commerce carried on between the state of New York and Canada, it being the port or harbour for most of the vessels employed in that trade; and in transporting goods to the different settlements along the lake. It is only within the last twenty years that much progress has been made in settling the lands in this part of the country. During the American war they formed almost one continued wood, containing merely a few wretched roads or intricate paths. It was here that General Burgoyne and his army were delayed so many weeks in opening the roads through the woods to Fort Edward, which occasioned many of those difficulties that afterwards led to the capture of that fine army. I am told that when the General found he was hemmed in on every side, and knew he must surrender, he gave permission to his officers and soldiers to take advantage of the night, and make their escape into Canada. Upwards of 2000 escaped in this manner, and went off in small parties with Indians for their guides. Captain Ferguson of the Canadian fencibles, whom I have before mentioned, was then in Burgoyne&apos;s army, and went off with his father, who was a captain in one of the regiments. They made their escape at night without any Indian for their guide, and were forty-three days in the woods before they reached St. John&apos;s, during which they had no other subsistence than the
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leaves and bark of trees, and what little game they could pick up.
</p>
<p>
I regretted that during my journey into the States I had no opportunity of visiting Saratoga, the memorable scene of that unfortunate event. But I understand that it remains nearly in the same state as described by the Duke de Rochefoucault Liancourt. The annexed engraving is from a copy which I took of the drawing of an American gentleman, and represents the situation of the respective eminences on which the English, German, and American troops were posted, particularly the encampment where General Burgoyne terminated his melancholy campaign.
</p>
<p>
At the time the Duke visited this memorable spot it belonged, together with a considerable tract of country in the vicinity, to Mr. John Schuyler, a son of the American general of that name. He is since dead; but the house in which he resided stands exactly on the spot where this important occurrence took place. Fish Creek, which flows close to the house, formed the line of defence of the camp of the English general, which was situated on an eminence about a quarter of a mile from the dwelling. The camp was also entirely surrounded by a mound of earth to strengthen its defence. In the rear of the camp the German troops were posted by divisions on a commanding height, communicating with the eminence on
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</pageinfo>
<illus entity="i0034" map="no">
<caption>
<p>
View of Gen.Burgoyne&apos;s Encampment at Saratoga at the Time of his Surrender to the Americans.
</p>
</caption>
</illus>
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which General Burgoyne was encamped. The right wing of the German corps had a communication with the left wing of the English, and the left extended towards the river.
</p>
<p>
General Gates was encamped on the other side of the creek, at the distance of an eighth of a mile from General Burgoyne; his right wing stretched towards the plain, but he endeavoured to shelter his troops as much as possible from the enemy&apos;s fire until he resolved to form the attack. General Nelson, at the head of the American militia, occupied the heights on the other side of the river, and engaged the attention of the left wing of the English, while other American corps observed the movements of the right wing.
</p>
<p>
In this position General Burgoyne surrendered his army. His provision was nearly consumed; but he was well provided with artillery and ammunition. The spot remains exactly as it then was, excepting that the bushes, which were cut down in front of the two armies, are since grown up again. Not the least alteration, says the Duke, has taken place since that time; the entrenchments still exist; nay the foot path is still seen on which the adjutant of General Gates proceeded to the General with the ultimatum of the American commander. The spot on which the council of war was held remains unaltered; and, in short, all the interesting memorabilia of that melancholy
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catastrophe have hitherto been most inviolably preserved. No monument or other recording emblem has yet been erected either by the American government or by individuals to perpetuate the remembrance of an event which tended so materially to establish the independence of their country. Perhaps none would be necessary were it possible to maintain the scene of action in its primitive state; but as that is not likely to be the case, the neglecting to raise some lasting memorial of the victory shows a want of respect for the memory of those brave men who sealed with their blood the independence of the United States. The sight of such a monument would inspirit their descendants, and teach them to venerate that which had been so dearly purchased.
</p>
<p>
Having refreshed ourselves at the inn, and settled for our passage with Captain Robert, we engaged with a waggoner to carry us and our baggage to Troy. He wanted twenty dollars for the journey; but Mr. Lyman, being acquainted with the imposition of those gentry, refused to give him more than twelve, which he at length agreed to take, though not without many professions of his own moderation in so doing. The roads being bad at this season of the year, we could not procure the stage which otherwise runs upon this road. The waggon we hired is common in the states, and is used by the country people to carry their provisions
<pageinfo>
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to market, or to transport goods from one part of the country to the other. A great number are constantly employed on the road between Skenesborough and Troy. It is a long narrow cart upon four wheels, and drawn by two horses abreast. When used as a stage for travelling, a couple of chairs are placed in it: but it is a very rough method of riding; for the waggon has no springs, and a traveller ought to have excellent nerves to endure the shaking and jolting of such a vehicle over bad roads.
</p>
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXVI.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Leave Skenesborough&mdash;American Taverns&mdash;Hire another Waggon&mdash;Dine at Salem&mdash;Captain White&mdash;Humorous Waggoner&mdash;Turnpikes, a profitable Speculation&mdash;Travelling by Night&mdash;Lansing burgh&mdash;Troy&mdash;Newspapers&mdash;Federalist and Democrats&mdash;Stage, coach&mdash;Steam-boat&mdash;City of Albany; its improved State&mdash;Gregory&apos;s Hotel&mdash;Mode of living at Taverns&mdash;Town of Hudson&mdash;Experiment Sloop a new Packet Vessel&mdash;The Hudson River&mdash;Beautiful Scenery&mdash;Theological Dispute&mdash;Entertainment on board the Sloop&mdash;Major Andr&aacute;&mdash;West Point&mdash;Arrival at New York&mdash;Appearance of the City at Night.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
It
</hi>
 was about four o&apos;clock in the afternoon when we left Skenesborough. The road lay through a newly-settled country, which presented on both sides a dreary aspect; though it was perhaps owing as much to the season of the year as the nature of the country. The woods in many places had been cleared by burning the bark off the trees, and numbers of them yet remained standing, though vegetation was destroyed. The other parts of the farms were covered with the stumps of trees, and
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inclosed by worm fences, which gave to these settlements a very rough appearance. They were however numerous, and contained several good houses.
</p>
<p>
About seven o&apos;clock we arrived at Granville, a small town containing a church and several neat houses. We put up for the night at a very good tavern, where we were supplied with an excellent supper composed of as great a variety as we met with for breakfast at Shelburne, and which is customary at all the taverns throughout the northern States. One large room up stairs contained above a dozen beds, so that we each had a separate one; a thing not always to be met with at every tavern in the States. But the practice of putting two or three in a bed is now little exercised, except at very indifferent taverns, and they are chiefly confined to the back parts of the country. Within the last twenty years the States have been so much improved, that good inns are established in almost every town and village along the principal roads, and the accommodations of many of them are equal to those of England. Travellers are not, therefore liable to have a strange man step into their bed, as was the case formerly. During the whole of my tour through the States I never had occasion to 
<hi rend="italics">
bundle
</hi>
, though I have been sometimes asked if I wished to have a 
<hi rend="italics">
single
</hi>
 bed.
</p>
<p>
We breakfasted at six the next morning, and
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hired another waggon for eight dollars, there not being room enough on the other without sitting extremely crowded. Mr. Leavens, the master of the tavern, was to drive us; and having divided our baggage equally between the two waggons, we procured double chairs, which are made for the purpose, and placed them in the fore part of the waggon. They contained two persons, and the driver sat in front. Being thus more comfortably accommodated than on the preceding evening, we began our journey in good spirits. It was well that we were provided with large buffalo robes and great coats, for the morning was excessively cold, and the snow fell in abundance.
</p>
<p>
I had not an opportunity so late in the year to see the country to advantage, but I perceived that it improved the further we proceeded on our journey. It is agreeably diversified with hill and dale, small woods, clumps of trees, corn-fields, pastures, and meadow lands. The soil is said to be fertile, and it appeared in general to be well cleared from the stumps of trees, which abounded in the plantations through which we had passed the preceding day. Many very handsome houses and churches are built near the. road side, all of wood; but constructed very neatly with clap-boards and shingles, which cover the heavy timbers. Many of the houses are built in the style of English country dwellings of the modern taste.
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some of them two or three stories high, painted white, and ornamented with green venetian shades. The churches are uncommonly neat, painted white, and kept in excellent order. They have good spires, and some of them bells.
</p>
<p>
We passed through Hebron, and some other small villages, and arrived at Salem to dinner. This little town consists of one street of handsome houses, many of them red brick, but the greater part of wood. They are built with considerable taste, and are ornamented much like the other buildings I have mentioned. Some of them are shops and inns; but the majority appear to be private houses belonging to gentlemen of property in this part of the country. It is quite a new town, and apparently in a state of progressive improvement.
</p>
<p>
After dinner we proceeded on our journey. Mr. Leavens&apos;s horses being but indifferent, he took the lead with his waggon, in which were Mr. Mackenzie and Mr. Welch. Mr. Storrow, Mr. Lyman, and myself, followed in the next waggon. Our driver had an excellent pair of horses, which would have knocked up those of Leavens&apos;s had they taken the lead as they did in the morning. The roads being covered with snow also obliged us to slacken our pace. This tedious travelling was by no means to our taste, and we should possibly have lost our good humour, had
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not the arch whimsicality of our driver, who was called 
<hi rend="italics">
Captain White
</hi>
, furnished us with abundant matter for mirth. He entertained us with many humorous stories, and had always something smart to say to every waggoner or person that passed us. He spoke to several people of consequence in the country with the utmost freedom. To one, it was, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Why, Major, you look as if you couldn&apos;t help it this cold day.
</hi>
&rdquo; To another, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Nation bad road, General.
</hi>
&rdquo; To a third, who was a judge, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Awful weather, master, and sure enough your nose looks blue upon&apos;t.
</hi>
&rdquo; They all seemed to know him, and took his jokes in good part; for it afterwards, turned out, that our waggoner was himself 
<hi rend="italics">
a captain in the army!
</hi>
 He was very severe upon his brothers of the whip, whom he declared to be the greatest 
<hi rend="italics">
rogues
</hi>
 in the state of New-York, and assured us, that we might consider ourselves very lucky in having fallen into his hands, as 
<hi rend="italics">
he was the only honest one
</hi>
 among them, save and except his friend Master Leavens, who was as worthy a fellow as himself.
</p>
<p>
We arrived at a tavern about eight miles from Salem, just as it was dark. Here we halted for a few hours to refresh ourselves and the horses. About eleven o&apos;clock we proceeded on our route to Troy. As we travelled during the night, it is impossible for me to describe the appearance of this part of the country; and the moon did not
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condescend to enliven us with her pale beams. But our driver informed us that it was in a better state of cultivation and improvement than that through which we had passed. There are several turnpikes along this road, by which means it is kept in good repair. They are common throughout the northern and middle States, and have tended greatly to improve the country; for as soon as a good road is opened through the woods, communicating between the greater towns, the country which was before a trackless forest becomes settled, and in a few years the borders of the road are lined with habitations. The expenses are defrayed by shares subscribed by a certain number of persons, who form themselves into a company under an act of the legislature. It is a speculation that few have failed in, for the traffic on the road soon increases the value of the capital. It would be well if Canada was to imitate the example of her neighbours in this respect.
</p>
<p>
This night we passed through Cambridge, Hosick, Pittstown, and Schatchoke, all small neat towns. The further we went to the southward the less snow we found on the ground, and by the time we arrived at Lansingburgh it entirely disappeared. We reached this town about four o&apos;clock in the morning; but it was yet so dark, that I could only discern that it consisted of one long street of large brick houses, many of them
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apparently handsome buildings. Troy is situated but a few miles from Lansingburgh, and we arrived there about five o&apos;clock. We put up at a large inn; and as we had now done with our waggon-drivers we paid them the twenty dollars, according to our agreement, and parted mutually satisfied. We had no cause to complain of either of them, and the rough humour of 
<hi rend="italics">
Captain White
</hi>
 had afforded us much mirth.
</p>
<p>
Troy is a well-built town, consisting chiefly of one street of handsome red brick houses, upwards of a mile and a half in length. There are two or three short streets which branch off from the main one; but it is in the latter that all the principal stores, warehouses, and shops are situated. It also contains several excellent inns and taverns. The houses, which are all new, are lofty, and built with much taste and simplicity, though convenience and accommodation seem to have guided the architect more than ornament. The deep red brick, well pointed, gives the buildings an air of neatness and cleanliness seldom met with in old towns: but I cannot say that I admire it so much as the yellow brick in England. The town is built on the east shore of the Hudson or North River close to the beach, and about six miles above Albany, which is situated on the opposite shore. Troy has been erected within the last twenty years, and is now a place of considerable importance.
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The trade which it has opened with the new settlements to the northward, through the States of New York and Vermont as far as Canada, is very extensive; and in another twenty years it promises to rival the old established city of Albany. Its prosperity is indeed already looked upon with an eye of jealousy by the people of the latter place.
</p>
<p>
While we were at breakfast, newspapers came in from New York, containing accounts of the English expedition to Copenhagen, and the refusal of the British government to agree to the proposals of Mr. Pinckney, to negotiate a treaty upon the same terms as had been before so haughtily rejected and sent back by Mr. Jefferson. We were much interested with the news, and the Americans appeared apprehensive that a war would take place between the two countries. Several strangers came into the room, and began to make some observations on the news: but none of our party made them any reply; for the Americans are so extremely captious upon political subjects, that they can never speak of them without entering into a dispute; and disputes generally terminate in quarrels. I soon perceived that the people were divided into two parties, the federalists and the democrats, and that both were equally violent in their political altercations. The federalists are as partial to the English as the democrats
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are to the French, and the people of those nations who reside in the States enlist themselves under the banners of these two parties. I shall have an opportunity of speaking more particularly of them in a future chapter, and for the present shall proceed with our journey.
</p>
<p>
After breakfast we crossed the Hudson in a ferry-boat, and got into the stage which was going to Albany. It was similar to the one in which I had travelled from La Prairie to St. John&apos;s, and is in general use throughout the States. It is in the form of a large coach, with open sides and front, and flat roof supported by eight pillars. The pannels do not come up higher than the hip, and in wet or cold weather leather curtains are let down on each side; the buttons and straps are however frequently broken off, so that the wind and rain often find a ready admittance. This kind of carriage, notwithstanding its defects, is far superior to the Canadian calash for long journeys, as the latter affords not. the least shelter. It is always drawn by four horses, which in well settled parts of the United States are as good as the generality of English stage horses. The Americans have not yet introduced the close English stage with glass windows, probably on account of the hot weather which prevails there much more than in England, and the indifferent roads which are yet in existence in many parts of the Union, particularly
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to the southward, and in the back settlements.
</p>
<p>
We rode along the border of the Hudson, which is prettily adorned with several small islands. It is sufficiently deep to admit sloops up to Troy, and flat-bottomed boats much higher. The surrounding country is well settled, and presents to the eye the pleasing prospect of rich cultivated lands, woods, towns, villages, and scattered habitations. We arrived at Albany about noon, and put up at the Tontine coffee-house kept by Gregory. We now learnt that the river was frozen over several miles below Albany, and that the steam-boat in which we intended to have taken our passage to New York was laid up for the winter. We were much disappointed at the news, as we were very desirous of seeing the construction and management of this celebrated vessel, which travels at the rate of 
<hi rend="italics">
five miles an hour against wind and tide.
</hi>
 It was built about four years ago, under the direction of Mr. Fulton, an American gentleman of great mechanical abilities. The length of the boat is 160 feet, and her width in proportion, so as not too much to impede her sailing. The machine which moves her wheels is called a twenty-horse machine, or equal to the power of so many horses, and is kept in motion by steam from a copper boiler eight or ten feet in length. The wheels on each side are similar to those of
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water-mills, and under cover; they are moved backward or forward, separately or together, at pleasure. Her principal advantage is in calms or against head winds. When the wind is fair, light square sails, &amp;c. are employed to increase her speed. Her accommodations include fifty-two births besides sofas, and are said to be equal, if not superior, to any vessel that sails on the river. They are necessarily extensive, as all the space unoccupied by the machinery is fitted up in a convenient and elegant manner. Her route between Albany and New York is a distance of 160 miles, which she performs regularly twice a week, sometimes in the short period of thirty-two hours, exclusive of detention by taking in and landing passengers. She carries from 100 to 120 people. The fare from New York to Albany is seven dollars.
</p>
<p>
The city of Albany has of late years rapidly increased in size, wealth, and population. A number of handsome dwelling-houses and public buildings have been erected, and the old heavy Dutch houses with the gable end towards the street are considerably diminished. One of the principal streets has a great resemblance to the Haymarket in London, being nearly the same width, and situated on an ascent. Albany contains about 6,000 inhabitants, and ranks next to the city of New York in that state. The trade which is carried
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on in this city with the new settlements to the northward and westward is very considerable, and is daily increasing. We had excellent accommodations at Gregory&apos;s, which is equal to many of our hotels in London. It is the custom in all the American taverns, from the highest to the lowest, to have a sort of 
<hi rend="italics">
table d&apos;h&ocirc;te
</hi>
, or public table, at which the inmates of the house and travellers dine together at a certain hour. It is also frequented by many single gentlemen belonging to the town. At Gregory&apos;s, upwards of thirty sat down to dinner, though there were not more than a dozen who resided in the house. A stranger is thus soon introduced to an acquaintance with the people, and if he is travelling alone, he will find at these tables some relief from the ennui of his situation. At the better sort of American taverns or hotels, very excellent dinners are provided, consisting of almost every thing in season. The hour is from two to three o&apos;clock, and there are three meals in the day. They breakfast at eight o&apos;clock upon rump steaks, fish, eggs, and a variety of cakes, with tea or coffee. The last meal is at seven in the evening, and consists of as substantial fare as the breakfast, with the addition of cold fowl, ham, &amp;c. The price of boarding at these houses is from a dollar and a half to two dollars per day. Brandy, hollands, and other spirits, are allowed at dinner; but every other liquor is paid
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for extra. English breakfasts and teas, generally speaking, are meagre repasts compared with those of America; and as far as I had an opportunity of observing, the people live, with respect to eating, in a much more luxurious manner than we do, particularly in the great towns and their neighbourhoods. But their meals, I think, are composed of too great a variety, and of too many things, to be conducive to health; and I have little doubt but that many of their diseases are engendered by gross diet, and the use of animal food at every meal. Many private families live nearly in the same style as at these houses, and have as great variety upon their tables. Formerly, pies, puddings, and cyder used to grace the breakfast table: but they are now discarded from the genteeler houses, and are found only at the small taverns and farm-houses in the country.
</p>
<p>
Having hired a stage to take us to Hudson, about thirty miles below, on the east side of the river, we left Albany the following morning, and crossed over to the opposite shore in the ferry-boat. At the top of a hill, which rises gradually from the water side, we had a beautiful view of the city and its environs. Several gentlemen&apos;s seats appeared to great advantage, and the plantations, gardens, meadow lands, and orchards, interspersed among a number of handsome buildings, had a very picturesque effect. I only regretted
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that I was deprived of the pleasure of viewing such a pleasing scene at a more congenial season of the year. The day was however remarkably fine, which made some amends for the sombre tint of nature. The country through which we travelled this day was fruitful, well cultivated, and adorned with several neat farms and villages. In the evening we arrived at Hudson. This town is of modern construction, and like Troy consists of one very long street. The houses are of wood or brick; many of them built with taste, and all spacious and commodious. Shops and warehouses are numerous, and there are several large inns; from which I conceived that a considerable trade was carried on between this town and the interior. It has every appearance of a thriving settlement; and its situation is elevated and advantageous for commerce. There are several large brick warehouses near the wharfs for the reception of goods; and a great many small vessels sail continually between this town and New York. Ship-building is carried on here, and a vessel of 3 or 400 tons was just ready for launching. Several other vessels of that size were also in the harbour.
</p>
<p>
The next morning, Sunday 22d November, we embarked on board the Experiment, a fine new sloop of 130 tons, built expressly for carrying passengers between Hudson and New York. The whole vessel was handsomely fitted up. It had
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two private cabins abaft, containing several bed-places for ladies. In the midship was a large general room upwards of sixty feet long, and twenty feet wide, containing a double tier of bed-places on each side for gentlemen, with printed cotton curtains drawn before them. At the head of this cabin or room there was a bar, like that of a coffee-house, where the company were supplied with wine, bottled porter, ale, segars, and such articles as were not included in the passage-money. Between the bar and the forecastle was a very complete kitchen fitted up with a good fire-place, copper boilers, and every convenience for cooking. The forecastle was appropriated to the use of the sailors. The passage-money was five dollars, for which the passengers were provided during the voyage with three meals a-day, including spirits; all other liquors were to be separately paid for.
</p>
<p>
About nine o&apos;clock in the morning we left the wharf, which was crowded with people to see the vessel depart; for it was the largest and best of the kind, except the steam-boat, that sailed on the river as a packet. It had not been established above six months. The mainmast, boom, and mainsail were of an immense size for a sloop, but we had ten or a dozen fine young fellows to work the vessel; and having a smart breeze, we soon left the town of Hudson far behind us. Mr.
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Elihu Bunker, who commanded the vessel, was part owner as well as captain, and seemed to be a plain religious sort of man. He had more the look of a parson than a sailor; and had posted up a long list of regulations at the cabin door, which, if properly enforced, were well calculated to keep his passengers in good order. In truth, something of the kind was necessary; for we had upwards of fifty persons on board, nearly all men. Among the forbidden articles were playing at cards and smoking in the cabin.
</p>
<p>
The morning was remarkably fine; the wind favoured us, and we had every prospect of an agreeable voyage. The month of November was but ill adapted to view the country to advantage; for the gay verdure of the fields and forests was now supplanted by the brown and gloomy hue of winter. Yet the scenes that presented themselves along the shores of the Hudson were in some places of that grand and romantic description, and in others so beautifully picturesque, that they could not fail to interest the spectator at any season of the year. This river affords some of the noblest landscapes and scenery that are to be found in any part of North America. Nature and art have both contributed to render its shores at once sublime and beautiful.
</p>
<p>
The river in many places is intersected with numerous islands. In others it is diversified with
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handsome windings. Sometimes its waters are contracted between stupendous rocks that frown aloft in sullen majesty. At other times they are expanded to a great extent between a fine open country containing well cultivated settlements. The rocks which line the shore in numerous parts of the river are steep and rugged; and rise to such a height above the water&apos;s edge, that the largest trees which grow upon their summits are dwindled in appearance to the smallest shrubs. Behind these rocks are ranges of enormous mountains which extend far into the country, and are covered with trackless forests.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="blockindent">
&mdash;&ldquo;Gigantic, vast,
<lb>
O&apos;ershadowing mountains soar, invested thick
<lb>
Their shaggy waists, and to their summits far
<lb>
A wilderness unbounded to the eye,
<lb>
Profuse, and pathless, unsubdued by toil.
<lb>
Diminutive beneath, the Hudson, deep
<lb>
Coerced by rocks, and silent penetrates
<lb>
The solitudinous and woodland scene;
<lb>
&mdash;struggling for a passage.&rdquo;
</hi>
</p>
<p>
In other places the shores rise from the water&apos;s edge into small hills, and descending on the opposite side form beautiful little valleys; beyond them arise other acclivities, which at length terminate at the base of lofty mountains. The country thus gently undulated is covered with rich farms, plantations, orchards, and gardens, and studded with
<pageinfo>
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neat and handsome dwelling-houses. The cultivated parts are intersected with small woods, coppices, and clumps of trees, which add much to the diversity of the scenery, and form a pleasing contrast to lawns, meadows, and corn-fields. In several places along shore are elegant mansions and country seats belonging to the principal persons in the State of New York. Some were pointed out to us, and the names of their owners mentioned; but I only recollect those of Mr. Livingston and Mrs. Montgomery, the widow of the general who fell at Quebec. The river is also ornamented with several little towns and villages near the water-side; and except in the neighbourhood of the rocks and mountains the country appeared to be well inhabited. The fineness of the weather contributed much to heighten the beauty of the scenes which every where opened upon our view as the vessel glided with the stream. In short, words are inadequate to do justice to the variety and splendour of the objects that present themselves at every turn and winding of this beautiful river. The pencil of a Claude can alone delineate them as they deserve, and pourtray their beauties with fidelity and truth.
</p>
<p>
We had not more than half a dozen ladies on board, the rest of our numerous company were 
<hi rend="italics">
gentlemen
</hi>
 of all descriptions. Most of them appeared to be methodists, baptists, and other dissenters,
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who are very numerous in the States; and it being Sunday, several of them got together and sung hymns. They had good voices, and sung in different keys; but there was a melancholy monotony in the tunes which I did not much admire. We had two singing groups; one on deck, and the other in the cabin. Beside which, there was a third group assembled round a methodist parson, who harangued for a considerable time with much self-satisfaction, until he happened unfortunately to broach some curious doctrines, when he was cut short by a gentleman, who, from the opinions he advanced in opposition to the parson, seemed to doubt the authenticity of revealed religion. I really believe, however, that he was not in earnest, and only started difficulties to puzzle the other, who now quitted his preaching to enter the lists with the sceptic as he called him. For upwards of two hours they combated each other with great ardour, affording the rest of the company high entertainment. The gentleman pointed out all the incongruities in the Old and New Testament, seeming to doubt every thing which had been accomplished by miracles, and challenged the other to prove their authenticity. The parson proceeded in the common-place way to satisfy the doubts of his antagonist. In some instances he succeeded tolerably well; but in others he was completely confounded, and was obliged
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to digress from the subject to something which he thought unanswerable by his opponent. The latter, however, endeavoured to keep him always to the point; and the parson was at times so much perplexed, that he became the butt of the company. He however bore their jokes with great good humour and patience; but finding that he could not satisfy the gentleman&apos;s scruples, he began upon politics. We soon discovered that he was a Jeffersonian; and there happening to be a large majority of federalists on board, among whom were the editor and printer of the Albany Balance, a strong anti-democratic paper, the poor parson got most roughly handled; and I perceived that it was a more difficult task for him to keep his temper upon politics than upon religion.
</p>
<p>
In this manner the morning was passed, and we were glad to find our party of disputants and politicians sit down to dinner with great cordiality, and in the pleasures of the table forget the fretfulness of an empty stomach. Our dinner consisted of every thing in season, and was admirably served up: indeed, it would not have disgraced a tavern in London. At seven o&apos;clock we had tea and coffee together with the cold turkeys and ham left at dinner. This was our last meal. At ten o&apos;clock some few of the passengers turned into their births: others, not inclined to go to bed so
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soon, called for wine, and began to sing some patriotic songs, such as Hail Columbia, &amp;c. One of them sung several English songs, which not exactly suiting the democratic principles of two or three persons on board, the captain came into the cabin, and said that he was desired by some of the passengers to request, that as it was Sunday night the gentlemen would not sing: it also prevented those who had lain down from going to sleep. The poor methodist parson was immediately suspected, and charged with endeavouring to interrupt the conviviality of the company. He however came forward and assured them he was innocent of the charge. The jovial party declared that it was very hard they were not permitted to amuse themselves with a few innocent songs, when they had so quietly listened all the morning to the dismal psalm-singing and political disputes of other gentlemen: but as it was near twelve o&apos;clock they acquiesced in the wishes of the captain. They were, however, determined to have another bottle or two of wine; and sat up a considerable time longer, cracking their jokes upon the parson, and on those who had expressed their disapprobation of singing songs on Sunday.
</p>
<p>
We sailed all night; but as the wind shifted to an opposite quarter, we made but little progress. The next morning it became more favourable; and the weather being fine, we had an agreeable
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passage. The prospects that presented themselves were equally beautiful and varied as yesterday; but the country was more rocky and mountainous. This day we passed the fort at West Point, where Arnold betrayed the cause of his country, and brought upon the gallant Major Andr&eacute; an ignominious death.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="blockindent">
&mdash;&ldquo;Far within the lofty desert we beheld
<lb>
The fort, and thundering cannon on its brow,
<lb>
Raised on the western rocks, where travellers long
<lb>
The base and vain design that had betray&apos;d
<lb>
Columbia, shall relate.&rdquo;
</hi>
</p>
<p>
About ten o&apos;clock at night we arrived at New York; it was very dark, and as we sailed by the town, lighted lamps and windows sparkled everywhere, amidst the houses, in the streets, and along the water-side. The wharfs were crowded with shipping, whose tall masts mingled with the buildings, and together with the spires and cupolas of the churches, gave the city an appearance of magnificence, which the gloomy obscurity of the night served to increase.
</p>
<p>
When the vessel was made fast to one of the wharfs, I went ashore with Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. Lyman, and the rest of our party to find a boarding house. Mrs. Loring&apos;s house in the Broadway, where we intended to have lodged, was full; so that, after rambling about the streets for an
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hour, we were obliged to return on board again for the night. After so long an absence from London, I could not help experiencing a degree of satisfaction at once more treading the pavement of a large and populous city. Neither Montreal nor Quebec had the least resemblance to that which I had left: but New York seemed to present an exact epitome of it; and at the distance of 3000 miles, I now pleased myself with the idea of finding the manners, customs, and institutions of my own country reflected on this portion of the new world.
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXVII.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Boarding-House&mdash;Evacuation of New York celebrated on
</hi>
 25
<hi rend="italics">
th November&mdash;The Harbour&mdash;The Broadway&mdash;Bowery Road&mdash;Shops&mdash;Hotels&mdash;Public Buildings&mdash;The Park&mdash;Caterpillars&mdash;The Theatre&mdash;Mr. Cooper&apos;s Performances&mdash;Richard the Third&mdash;Vauxhall&mdash;Ranelagh&mdash;Wharfs&mdash;&mdash;Warehouses&mdash;Shipping&mdash;State of New York before the Embargo&mdash;Bustle and Activity which prevailed&mdash;Melancholy Effects of the Embargo&mdash;Annihilation of Commerce.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
The
</hi>
 next morning we left the sloop, and took up our abode with a Quaker lady in Maiden-lane, to whom we were introduced by Mr. Lyman. Her boarders consisted mostly of young merchants of her own family, which was very respectable, and nearly related to some of the principal people in New York. Of our party I was the only one, at the end of a fortnight, who remained in that city. Mr. Lyman returned to Montreal; Mr. Welch sailed for Charleston in South Carolina; Mr. Storrow went to Boston; and Mr. Mackenzie sailed in the British packet for England. Thus I was soon separated from my fellow travellers,
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for whom, in the short period of eight days, I had imbibed a friendship that made me part with them reluctantly: so much do we attach ourselves to those who have partaken of our pleasures and adventures, or participated in our dangers and anxieties.
</p>
<p>
The day after our arrival, being the 25th of November, was the anniversary of the evacuation of New York by the British troops at the peace of 1783. The militia, or rather the volunteer corps, assembled from different parts of the city on the grand battery by the water-side, so called from a fort having been formerly built on the spot, though at present it is nothing more than a lawn for the recreation of the inhabitants, and for the purpose of military parade. The troops did not amount to 600, and were gaudily dressed in a variety of uniforms, every ward in the city having a different one: some of them with helmets appeared better suited to the theatre than the field. The general of the militia and his staff were dressed in the national uniform of blue, with buff facings. They also wore large gold epaulets and feathers, which altogether had a very showy appearance. Some gun-boats were stationed off the battery, and fired several salutes in honour of the day, and the troops paraded through the streets leading to the water-side; but the crowd being very great, I did not think the ceremony worth the trouble
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of following them, and therefore returned home. I was afterwards told that they went through the forms practised on taking possession of the city, man&oelig;uvring and firing feux de joie, &amp;c. as occurred on the evacuation of New York. One of the corps consisted wholly of 
<hi rend="italics">
Irishmen
</hi>
, dressed in light green jackets, white pantaloons, and helmets.
</p>
<p>
The city of New York is situated on the island of Manhattan, at the confluence of the Hudson and East rivers. The island is separated from the continental part of the state of New York by the Haerlem river. Its length is about sixteen miles, and its breadth varies from a quarter to a mile and a half. The bay is about nine miles long, and three broad, without reckoning the branches of the rivers on each side of the town. From the ocean at Sandy Hook to the city is not more than twenty-eight miles. The water is deep enough to float the largest vessels. Ships of ninety guns have anchored opposite the city. There they lie land-locked, and well secured from winds and storms; and fleets of the greatest number have ample space for mooring. During the revolutionary war New York was the great rendezvous for the British fleet. From the time of its surrender in 1776 to the peace of 1783 our ships of war passed all seasons of the year here in security.
</p>
<p>
It has been often observed that the cold of winter
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has less effect upon the water of New York harbour than in several places further to the south. When Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Alexandria are choked up by ice in severe winters, as in that of 1804, New York suffers scarcely any inconvenience from it. This is owing partly to the saltness of the sound and the bay; while the Delaware, Patapsco, and Potomack, at the respective cities above mentioned are fresh, and consequently more easily frozen. The water at New York differs but little in saltness from the neighbouring Atlantic. The openness of the port is also to be ascribed in part to the greater ebb and flow of the tide. Another reason of the greater fitness of New York for winter navigation is the rapidity of the currents. The strength of these in ordinary tides, and more especially when they are agitated by storms, is capable of rending even the solid ice, and reducing it to fragments. And although the whole harbour was covered by a bridge of very compact ice in 1780, to the serious alarm of the British garrison, the like has never occurred since. The islands in the vicinity of New York are Long Island, Staten Island, Governors Bedlow&apos;s and Ellis&apos;s Islands. The first is of very considerable extent, being 120 miles in length, and about eight miles in breadth. It is a fertile and well cultivated piece of land, inhabited chiefly by the descendants of the old Dutch settlers.
</p>
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<p>
New York is the first city in the United States for wealth, commerce, and population; as it also is the finest and most agreeable for its situation and buildings. It has neither the narrow and confined irregularity of Boston, nor the monotonous regularity of Philadelphia, but a happy medium between both. When the intended improvements are completed, it will be a very elegant and commodious town, and worthy of becoming the capital of the United States, for it seems that Washington is by no means calculated for a metropolitan city. New York has rapidly improved within the last twenty years; and land which then sold in that city for fifty dollars is now worth 1,500.
</p>
<p>
The Broadway and Bowery Road are the two finest avenues in the city, and nearly of the same width as Oxford-street in London. The first commences from the Grand Battery, situate at the extreme point of the town, and divides it into two unequal parts. It is upwards of two miles in length, though the pavement does not extend above a mile and a quarter: the remainder of the road consists of straggling houses, which are the commencement of new streets already planned out. The Bowery Road commences from Chatham-street, which branches off form the Broadway to the right, by the side of the Park. After proceeding about a mile and a half it joins the Broadway, and terminate the plan which is intended
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to be carried into effect for the enlargement of the city. Much of the intermediate spaces between these large streets, and from thence to the Hudson and East rivers, is yet unbuilt upon, or consists only of unfinished streets and detached buildings.
</p>
<p>
The houses in the Broadway are lofty and well built. They are constructed in the English style, and differ but little from those of London at the west end of the town; except that they are universally built of 
<hi rend="italics">
red
</hi>
 brick. In the vicinity of the Battery, and for some distance up the Broadway, they are nearly all private houses, and occupied by the principal merchants and gentry of New York; after which the Broadway is lined with large commodious shops of every description, well stocked with European and India goods, and exhibiting as splendid and varied a show in their windows as can be met with in London. There are several extensive book stores, print-shops, music-shops, jewellers, and silversmiths; hatters, linen-drapers, milliners, pastry-cooks, coach-makers, hotels, and coffee-houses. The street is well paved, and the foot-paths are chiefly bricked. In Robinson-street the pavement before one of the houses, and the steps of the door, are composed entirely of 
<hi rend="italics">
marble.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
The City Hotel is the most extensive building of that description in New York; and nearly resembles,
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in size and style of architecture, the 
<hi rend="italics">
London Tavern
</hi>
 in Bishopsgate-street. The groundfloor of the hotel at New-York is, however, converted into shops, which have a very handsome appearance in the Broadway. Mechanic Hall is another large hotel at the corner of Robinson-street, in the Broadway. It was erected by the society of mechanics and tradesmen, who associated themselves for charitable purposes, under an act of the legislature in 1792. There are three churches in the Broadway: one of them called Grace Church, is a plain brick building, recently erected: the other two are St. Paul&apos;s and Trinity; both handsome structures, built with an intermixture of white and brown stone. The adjoining churchyards, which occupy a large space of ground, railed in from the street, and crowded with tomb-stones, are far from being agreeable spectacles in such a populous city. At the commencement of the Broadway, near the battery, stands the old Government-house, now converted into offices for the customs. Before it is a small lawn railed in, and in the centre is a stone pedestal, upon which formerly stood a leaden statue of George the Third. In the revolutionary war it was pulled down by the populace, and made into bullets.
</p>
<p>
The City Hall, where the courts of justice are held, is situated in Wall-street, leading from the
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coffee-house slip by the water side into the Broadway. It is an old heavy building, and very inadequate to the present population and wealth of New York. A Court house on a larger scale, and more worthy of the improved state of the city, is now building at the end of the Park, between the Broadway and Chatham-street, in a style of magnificence unequalled in many of the larger cities of Europe. The exterior consists wholly of fine marble, ornamented in a very neat and elegant style of architecture; and the whole is to be surmounted by a beautiful dome, which, when finished, will form a noble ornament to that part of the town, in which are also situated the Theatre, Mechanic Hall, and some of the best private houses in New York. The Park, though not remarkable for its size, is, however, of service, by displaying the surrounding buildings to greater advantage; and is also a relief to the confined appearance of the streets in general. It consists of about four acres planted with elms, planes, willows, and catalpas; and the surrounding foot-walk is encompassed by rows of poplars: the whole is inclosed by a wooden paling. Neither the Park nor the Battery is very much resorted to by the fashionable citizens of New York, as they have become too common. The genteel lounge is in the Broadway, from eleven to three o&apos;clock, during which time it is as much crowded as the Bond-street of London: and the
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carriages, though not so numerous, are driven to and fro with as much velocity. The foot paths are planted with poplars, and afford an agreeable shade from the sun in summer. About two years ago the inhabitants were alarmed by a large species of caterpillar, which bred in great numbers on the poplars, and were supposed to be venomous. Various experiments were tried, and cats and dogs were made to swallow them: but it proved to be a false alarm, though the city for some time was thrown into as great a consternation as we have frequently been with mad dogs.
</p>
<p>
The Theatre is on the south-east side of the Park, and is a large commodious building. The outside is in an unfinished state; but the interior is handsomely decorated, and fitted up in as good style as the London theatres, upon a scale suitable to the population of the city. It contains a large coffee-room, and good sized lobbies, and is reckoned to hold about 1,200 persons. The scenes are well painted and numerous; and the machinery, dresses, and decorations, are elegant, and appropriate to the performances, which consist of all the new pieces that come out on the London boards, and several of Shakspeare&apos;s best plays. The only fault is, that they are too much curtailed, by which they often lose their effect; and the performances are sometimes over by half past ten, though they do not begin at an earlier
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hour than in London. The drama had been a favourite in New York before the Revolution. Daring the time the city was in our possession, theatrical entertainments were very fashionable; and the characters were mostly supported by officers of the army. After the termination of the war, the play-house fell into the hands of Messrs. Hallam and Henry, who for a number of years exerted themselves with much satisfaction to please the public. After the death of Mr. Henry, the surviving manager formed a partnership with a favourite and popular performer, under the firm of Hallam and Hodgkinson. Their efforts were soon after aided by the addition of Mr. W. Dunlap. After some time Hallam and Hodgkinson withdrew from the concern, and Mr. Dunlap commenced sole manager. In this capacity he continued till 1804. During his management of the theatrical concerns, he brought forward many pieces of his own composition, as well as several translations from the German. He is now publishing his dramatic works in ten volumes. Mr. Cooper succeeded him in the direction of the theatre, and in his hands it at present remains. The Theatre has been built about ten years, and of course embraces every modern improvement.
</p>
<p>
I have seen several of Mr. Cooper&apos;s performances in very arduous characters. In many, he acquitted
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himself admirably, and he is justly entitled to the high estimation in which he is held throughout the United States. In some of his characters he almost equalled Kemble, whom he appears to imitate: but he could not come up to the arch-villainy of Richard the Third so admirably depicted by Cooke, who, like his great predecessor Macklin, seems fashioned by nature for that and other characters of a similar cast.
</p>
<p>
New York has its Vauxhall and Ranelagh; but they are poor imitations of those near London. They are, however, pleasant places of recreation for the inhabitants. The Vauxhall garden is situated in the Bowery Road about two miles from the City Hall. It is a neat plantation, with gravel walks adorned with shrubs, trees, busts, and statues. In the centre is a large equestrian statue of General Washington. Light musical pieces, interludes, &amp;c. are performed in a small theatre situate in one corner of the gardens: the audience sit in what are called the pit and boxes, in the open air. The orchestra is built among the trees, and a large apparatus is constructed for the display of fire-works. The theatrical corps of New-York is chiefly engaged at Vauxhall during summer. The Ranelagh is a large hotel and garden, generally known by the name of Mount Pitt, situated by the water side, and commanding some extensive and beautiful views of the city and its environs.
</p>
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<p>
A great portion of the city, between the Broadway and the East river is very irregularly built; being the oldest part of the town, and of course less capable of those improvements which distinguish the more recent buildings. Nevertheless, it is the chief seat of business, and contains several spacious streets crowded with shops, stores, and warehouses of every description. The water side is lined with shipping which lie along the wharfs, or in the small docks called slips, of which there are upwards of twelve towards the East river, besides numerous piers. The wharfs are large and commodious, and the warehouses, which are nearly all new buildings, are lofty and substantial. The merchants, ship-brokers, &amp;c. have their offices in front on the ground floor of these warehouses. These ranges of buildings and wharfs extend from the Grand Battery, on both sides the town, up the Hudson and East rivers, and encompass the houses with shipping, whose forest of masts gives a stranger a lively idea of the immense trade which this city carries on with every part of the globe. New York appears to him the Tyre of the new world.
</p>
<p>
When I arrived at New York in November, the port was filled with shipping, and the wharfs were crowded with commodities of every description. Bales of cotton, wool, and merchandize; barrels of pot-ash, rice, flour, and salt provisions;
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hogsheads of sugar, chests of tea, puncheons of rum, and pipes of wine; boxes, cases, packs and packages of all sizes and denominations, were strewed upon the wharfs and landing-places, or upon the decks of the shipping. All was noise and bustle. The carters were driving in every direction; and the sailors and labourers upon the wharfs, and on board the vessels, were moving their ponderous burthens from place to place. The merchants and their clerks were busily engaged in their counting-houses, or upon the piers. The Tontine coffe-house was filled with underwriters, brokers, merchants, traders, and politicians; selling, purchasing, trafficking, or insuring; some reading, others eagerly inquiring the news. The steps and balcony of the coffee-house were crowded with people bidding, or listening to the several auctioneers, who had elevated themselves upon a hogshead of sugar, a puncheon of rum, or a bale of cotton; and with Stentorian voices were exclaiming, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Once, twice.
</hi>
&rdquo; &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Once, twice.
</hi>
&rdquo; &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Another cent.
</hi>
&rdquo; &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Thank ye, gentlemen
</hi>
,&rdquo; or were knocking down the goods, which took up one side of the street, to the best purchaser. The coffee-house slip, and the corners of Wall and Pearl-streets, were jammed up with carts, drays, and wheel-barrows; horses and men were huddled promiscuously together, leaving little or no room for passengers to pass. Such was the appearance of
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0074">
0074
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64
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</pageinfo>
this part of the town when I arrived. Every thing was in motion; all was life, bustle, and activity. The people were scampering in all directions to trade with each other, and to ship off their purchases for the European, Asian, African, and West Indian markets. Every thought, word, look, and action of the multitude seemed to be absorbed by commerce; the welkin rang with its busy hum, and all were eager in the pursuit of its riches.
</p>
<p>
But on my return to New York the following April, what a contrast was presented to my view! and how shall I describe the melancholy dejection that was painted upon the countenances of the people, who seemed to have taken leave of all their former gaiety and cheerfulness? The coffee-house slip, the wharfs and quays along South-street, presented no longer the bustle and activity that had prevailed there five months before. The port, indeed, was full of shipping; but they were dismantled and laid up. Their decks were cleared, their hatches fastened down, and scarcely a sailor was to be found on board. Not a box, bale, cask, barrel, or package, was to be seen upon the wharfs. Many of the counting-houses were shut up, or advertised to be let; and the few solitary merchants, clerks, porters, and labourers, that were to be seen, were walking about with their hands in their pockets. Instead of sixty or a hundred carts that used to stand in the street for hire,
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0075">
0075
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65
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scarcely a dozen appeared, and they were unemployed; a few coasting sloops, and schooners, which were clearing out for some of the ports in the United States, were all that remained of that immense business which was carried on a few months before. The coffee-house was almost empty; or, if there happened to be a few people in it, it was merely to pass away the time which hung heavy on their hands, or to inquire anxiously after news from Europe, and from Washington: or perhaps to purchase a few bills, that were selling at ten or twelve per cent. above par. In fact, every thing presented a melancholy appearance. The streets near the water-side were almost deserted, the 
<hi rend="italics">
grass had begun to grow
</hi>
 upon the wharfs, and the minds of the people were tortured by the vague and idle rumours that were set afloat upon the arrival of every letter from England or from the seat of government. In short, the scene was so gloomy and forlorn, that had it been the month of September instead of April, I should verily have thought that a malignant fever was raging in the place; so desolating were the effects of the embargo, which in the short space of five months had deprived the first commercial city in the States of all its life, bustle, and activity; caused above one hundred and twenty bankruptcies; and completely annihilated its foreign commerce!
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
F
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0076">
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</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXVIII.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Places of Worship&mdash;Public Buildings&mdash;State Prison&mdash;Courts of Law&mdash;Board of Health&mdash;Quarantine Station&mdash;Chamber of Commerce&mdash;Inspectors of Lumber, &amp;c.&mdash;Commerce of New York&mdash;Increase of Commerce&mdash;Abundance of Provisions&mdash;Articles brought to Market&mdash;Price of Commodities at New York&mdash;Charitable Institutions&mdash;The Ladies&apos; Society for the Relief of poor Widows with small Children&mdash;News-papers&mdash;Literary Fair.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
New York
</hi>
 contains thirty-three places of worship, viz. nine episcopal churches, three Dutch churches, one French church, one Calvinist, one German Lutheran, one English Lutheran, three Baptist meetings, three Methodist meetings, one Moravian, six Presbyterian, one Independent, two Quakers&apos;, and one Jews&apos; synagogue.
</p>
<p>
Besides the public buildings which I have mentioned, there are numerous banks, insurance companies, commercial and charitable institutions, literary establishments, &amp;c. The new State prison is an establishment worthy of imitation in England. By the law of New York, treason, murder, and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0077">
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the procuring, aiding, and abetting any kind of murder, are the only crimes punishable by death. The mode of execution is the same as in England. All other offences are punished by imprisonment for a certain period in the State prison. This building is situated at Greenwich, about two miles from the City Hall, on the shore of the Hudson river. The space inclosed by the wall is about four acres, and the prison is governed by seven inspectors appointed by the State Council. They meet once a month, or oftener, together with the justices of the supreme court, the mayor and recorder of the city, the attorney-general, and district attorney. The inspectors make rules for the government of the convicts, and other persons belonging to the prison; and appoint two of their own body to be visiting inspectors monthly. The board of inspectors have charge of the prison, and appoint a keeper, or deputy, and as many assistants as they find to be necessary. The salaries of the keepers are paid out of the treasury of the State. The inspectors, or rather the agents of the prison, are empowered to purchase clothing, bedding, provisions, tools, implements, and raw or other materials for the employment of the convicts, and keep accounts of the same: also to open an account with each convict, charging him with his expenses, and crediting him with his labour: and
<lb>
F 2
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<controlpgno entity="p0078">
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</pageinfo>
if there should be any balance due to the convict at the time of his discharge, to give him a part or the whole of it; but if the whole should not be given to him, to convey the residue to the credit of the State. If a convict on entering the prison is unacquainted with any trade, he has the choice of learning one most agreeable to him. I have been told of a man who became a shoe-maker in that prison, and at the end of his time came out with several hundred dollars in pocket. Hence the country is benefited; and individuals, instead of being made worse in prison, are rendered useful members of society.
</p>
<p>
The expense of conveying and keeping the convicts is always paid by the State. They are dressed in uniforms of coarse cloth, according to their classes and conduct, and kept at some kind of work. For profane cursing, swearing, indecent behaviour, idleness, negligence, disobedience of regulations, or perverse conduct, the principal keeper may punish the convicts by confinement in the solitary cells, and by a diet of bread and water, during such, term as any two of the inspectors advise. For the greater security, there is a detachment of firemen allotted to the prison, also an armed guard consisting of a captain, a serjeant, two corporals, a drummer, a fifer, and twenty privates.
</p>
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<controlpgno entity="p0079">
0079
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</pageinfo>
<p>
The laws are administered by the following courts of justice.
</p>
<p>
I. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Court for the Trial of Impeachments, and the Correction of Errors.
</hi>
 Since the removal of the seat of government to Albany, this court is now held in that place. It is the court of 
<hi rend="italics">
dernier ressort
</hi>
, and consists of the president of the senate, for the time being, and the senators, chancellor, and judges of the supreme court, or the major part of them.
</p>
<p>
II. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Court of Chancery.
</hi>
 This court, consisting of the chancellor, is held twice a year at least in New York, and twice in the city of Albany, and at such other times as the chancellor may think proper. Appeals lie from the decisions of the chancellor to the court for the correction of errors.
</p>
<p>
III. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Supreme Court.
</hi>
 This court consists of a chief justice, and four puisne judges, and there are four stated and regular terms. The court appoints circuit courts to be held in the vacation in the several counties, before one of the judges, for the trial of all causes before a jury. Questions of law which arise on the facts, are argued before the whole court. Writs of error may be brought on the judgements of the supreme court, to the court for the correction of errors.
</p>
<p>
IV. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Court of Exchequer.
</hi>
 The junior justice in the supreme court, or in his absence any
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0080">
0080
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
70
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
other of the puisne judges, is 
<hi rend="italics">
ex officio
</hi>
 judge of the court of exchequer. This court is held during the terms of the supreme court, and at the same places. It hears and determines all causes and matters relating to forfeitures for recognizances or otherwise, fines, issues, amercements, and debts due to the people of the State.
</p>
<p>
V. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Courts of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery.
</hi>
 These courts are held pursuant to an act of the legislature, without a special commission, by one or more of the justices of the supreme court; together with the mayor, recorder, and aldermen of the city, or any three of them, of whom a justice of the supreme court must always be one. They have the power to hear and determine all treasons, felonies, and other crimes and misdemeanours, and to deliver the gaols of all prisoners confined therein.
</p>
<p>
VI. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Court of Common Pleas, commonly called the Mayor&apos;s Court.
</hi>
 This is held before the mayor, aldermen, and recorder, or before the mayor and recorder only. This court hears and determines all actions, real, personal, or mixed, arising within the city of New York, or within the jurisdiction of the court. Where the sum demanded is above 250 dollars, the cause may be removed, at any time before the trial, into the supreme court. A writ of error lies from all judgements of this court to the supreme court.
</p>
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<p>
VII. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Court of General Sessions of the Peace.
</hi>
 This court is also held by the mayor, recorder, and aldermen, of whom the mayor or recorder must always be one. Courts of special sessions of the peace may also be held at any time the common council may direct, and may continue as long as the court may think proper for the dispatch of business. These courts have the power to hear and determine all felonies and offences committed in the city of New York. There is also a court of special sessions for the trial of petty offences; which consists of the mayor, recorder, and aldermen.
</p>
<p>
VIII. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Court of Probates.
</hi>
 Since the removal of the seat of government to Albany, the judge of this court is required to reside in that city. He has all the powers of jurisdiction relative: to testamentary matters, which were formerly exercised by the governor of the colony, as judge of the prerogative court, except as to the appointment of surrogates.
</p>
<p>
IX. 
<hi rend="italics">
Court of Surrogates.
</hi>
 Surrogates are appointed for each county, by the council of appointment, one of which resides and holds his court in the city of New York. They have the sole and exclusive power to take proof of the last wills and testaments of persons deceased, who at the time of their death were inhabitants of the city, in whatever place the death may have happened;
<pageinfo>
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and to issue probates, and grant letters of administration of the goods, chattels, and credits of persons dying intestate, or with the wills annexed. Appeals from the orders and decrees of the surrogate lie to the court of probates.
</p>
<p>
X. 
<hi rend="italics">
District Court of the United States.
</hi>
 This court, consisting of a single judge, has four regular sessions in a year, and special sessions are held as often as the judge thinks necessary. It has exclusive original jurisdiction of civil causes, of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction, including all seizures under the laws of impost, navigation, or trade of the United States, on the high seas, and in the navigable waters, as well as seizures on land within other waters, and all penalties and forfeitures arising under the laws of the United States. It has also jurisdiction, exclusive of the State courts, of all crimes and offences, cognizable under the authority of the United States, committed within the district, or upon the high seas where no other punishment than whipping, not exceeding thirty stripes, a fine not exceeding 100 dollars, or a term of imprisonment not exceeding six months, is to be inflicted. It also has concurrent jurisdiction with the courts of the State, where an alien sues for a 
<hi rend="italics">
tort
</hi>
 (trespass) only, in violation of the laws of nations, or treaties of the United States; and where the United States sue, and the matter in dispute does not exceed 100 dollars. It
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0083">
0083
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
73
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
has a jurisdiction over the State courts, of all suits against consuls and vice-consuls.
</p>
<p>
XI. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Circuit Court of the United States
</hi>
, for the district of New York, in the second circuit, is held in the city on the 1st of April and the 1st of September in each year. It consists of one of the judges of the supreme court of the United States, and the judge of the district court. It has original cognizance of all civil suits, where the matter in dispute exceeds 500 dollars, and the United States are plaintiffs, or an alien is the party; or the suit is between citizens of different states. It has exclusive cognizance of all crimes and offences cognizable under the authority of the United States, except where it is otherwise provided by law; and a concurrent jurisdiction with the district court of the crimes cognizable therein.
</p>
<p>
Of late years a board of health has been established at New York, under an act of the legislature, and a variety of regulations are enjoined, for the purpose of preventing the introduction of malignant fevers. A station is also assigned on Staten Island, where vessels perform quarantine: the buildings which constitute the hospital are separated from each other, and are capable of accommodating upwards of 300 sick. The situation is extremely pleasant, and well adapted to the purpose.
</p>
<p>
There are five banks, and nine insurance companies:
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0084">
0084
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
74
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
one of the latter is a branch of the Ph&oelig;nix company of London. There is a chamber of commerce in New York, which has for its object the promotion and regulation of mercantile concerns; and is also a charitable institution for the support of the widows and children of its members.
</p>
<p>
Inspectors are appointed by the State Council to examine lumber, staves, and heading, pot and pearl-ashes, sole leather, flour and meal, beef and pork, previous to exportation. Persons shipping the above articles without having them inspected are liable to heavy penalties.
</p>
<p>
The commerce of New York, before the embargo, was in a high state of prosperity and progressive improvement. The merchants traded with almost every part of the world; and though at times they suffered some privations and checks from the belligerent powers of Europe, yet their trade increased, and riches continued to pour in upon them. They grumbled, but nevertheless pursued their prosperous career, and seldom failed in realizing handsome fortunes. What a mortifying stroke, then, was the embargo! a measure which obliged them to commit a sort of 
<hi rend="italics">
commercial suicide
</hi>
 in order to revenge themselves of a few lawless acts, which might have been easily avoided if the merchants had speculated with more prudence. The amount of tonnage belonging to the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0085">
0085
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
75
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
port of New York in 1806 was 183,671 tons. And the number of vessels in the harbour on the 25th of December 1807, when the embargo took place, was 537. The moneys collected in New York for the national treasury, on the imports and tonnage, have for several years amounted to one-fourth of the public revenue. In 1806 the sum collected was 6,500,000 dollars, which after deducting the drawbacks left a nett revenue of 4,500,000 dollars; which was paid into the treasury of the United States as the proceeds of one year. In the year 1808, the whole of this immense sum had vanished! In order to show how little the Americans have suffered upon the aggregate from Berlin decrees and orders of council; from French menaces, and British actions; it is only necessary to state, that in 1803 the duties collected at New York scarcely amounted to 4,000,000 of dollars; and that at the period of laying on the embargo, at the close of the year 1807, they amounted to nearly 7,000,000 dollars. After this, it is hardly fair to complain of the violation of neutral rights!
</p>
<p>
Every day, except Sunday, is a market-day in New York. Meat is cut up and sold by the joint or in pieces, by the licensed butchers only, their agents, or servants. Each of these must sell at his own stall, and conclude his sales by one o&apos;clock in the afternoon, between the 1st of May and the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0086">
0086
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
76
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
1st of November, and two between the 1st of November and the 1st of May. Butchers are licensed by the mayor, who is clerk of the market. He receives for every quarter of beef sold in the market six cents; for every hog, shoat, or pig above 14 lbs. weight, six cents; and for each calf, sheep, or lamb, four cents; to be paid by the butchers and other persons selling the same. To prevent engrossing, and to favour housekeepers, it is declared unlawful for persons to purchase articles to sell again in any market or other part of the city before noon of each day, except flour and meal, which must not be bought to be sold again until four in the afternoon: hucksters in the market are restricted to the sale of vegetables, with the exception of fruits. The sale of unwholesome and stale articles of provision; of blown and stuffed meat, and of measly pork, is expressly forbidden. Butter must be sold by the pound, and not by the roll or tub. Persons who are not licensed butchers, selling butchers&apos; meat on commission, pay triple fees to the clerk of the market.
</p>
<p>
The price of several commodities before the embargo was as follows, in sterling money: beef 6&frac12;
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per lb.; mutton 5
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
; veal 7
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
; butter 10
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
; bread, the loaf of 2&frac12; lbs. 7
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
; cheese 7
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
; turkeys 7
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 each; chickens 20
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per couple; oysters 7
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per dozen; flour 27
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per barrel of 196 lbs.; brandy 4
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per gallon; coffee 1
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per lb.; green tea 5
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
;
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0087">
0087
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
77
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
best hyson 10
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
; coals 70
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per chaldron; wood 20
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per cord; a coat 7
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 10
<hi rend="italics">
s
</hi>
; waistcoat and pantaloons 4
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 10
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
; hat 54
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
; pair of boots 54
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
; washing 3
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d
</hi>
, per dozen pieces. Price of lodging at genteel boarding-houses, from one guinea and a half to three guineas per week. After the embargo took place the price of provisions fell to nearly half the above sums, and European commodities rose in proportion. The manufactures of America are yet in an infant state; but in New York there are several excellent cabinet-makers, coach-makers, &amp;c. who not only supply the country with household furniture and carriages, but also export very largely to the West-Indies, and to foreign possessions on the continent of America. Their workmanship would be considered elegant and modern in London; and they have the advantage of procuring mahogany and other wood much cheaper than we.
</p>
<p>
Game laws are not wholly unknown in America. There is an act in force for the preservation of heath hens and other game, which was passed in the year 1791.
</p>
<p>
There are 
<hi rend="italics">
thirty-one
</hi>
 benevolent institutions in New York. The names of them are as follow: Tammany Society, Free School, Provident Society, Mutual Benefit Society, Benevolent Society, Albion Benevolent Society, Ladies&apos; Society
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0088">
0088
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
78
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
for the relief of poor widows with small children, Fire Department, New York Manufacturing Society, Society of Merchants and Tradesmen, the Dispensary, Lying-in Hospital, Sailor&apos;s Snug Harbour, Marine Society, Manumission Society, Kinepock Institution, City Hospital, Alms House, House Carpenter&apos;s Society, Bellvue Hospital, Marine Hospital at Staten Island, Humane Society, Masonic Society containing thirteen lodges, German Society, Society of Unitas Fratrum, First Protestant Episcopal Charity School, St. George&apos;s Society, St. Patrick&apos;s Society, St. Andrew&apos;s Society, the New England Society, the Cincinnati. Most of these institutions are mere benefit societies, resembling those which are so numerous in England. 
<hi rend="italics">
The Ladies&apos; Society for the relief of poor widows with small children
</hi>
 merits, however, particular notice, since it is an institution most honourable to the character of the amiable women of that city, and is worthy of imitation in Great Britain.
</p>
<p>
There are upwards of twenty news-papers published in New York, nearly half of which are daily papers; besides several weekly and monthly magazines or essays. The high price of paper, labour, and taxes in Great Britain has been very favourable to authorship and the publication of books in America. Foreign publications are also
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0089">
0089
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
79
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
charged with a duty of 13 per cent.; and foreign rags are exempted from all impost. These advantages have facilitated the manufacture of paper and the printing of books in the United States, both which are now carried on to a very large extent. The new works that appear in America, or rather original productions, are very few; but every English work of celebrity is immediately reprinted in the States, and vended for a fourth of the original price. The booksellers and printers of New York are numerous, and in general men of property. Some of them have published very splendid editions of the Bible; and it was not a little gratifying to the American patriot to be told, that the 
<hi rend="italics">
paper, printing, engraving
</hi>
, and 
<hi rend="italics">
binding
</hi>
, were all of 
<hi rend="italics">
American manufacture.
</hi>
 For several years past a literary fair has been held alternately at New York and Philadelphia. This annual meeting of booksellers has tended greatly to facilitate intercourse with each other, to circulate books throughout the United States, and to encourage and support the arts of printing and paper-making.
</p>
<p>
A public library is established at New York, which consists of about ten thousand volumes, many of them rare and valuable books. The building which contains them is situated in Nassau-street, and the trustees are incorporated by an act
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0090">
0090
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
80
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of the legislature. There are also three or four public reading-rooms, and circulating libraries, which are supported by some of the principal booksellers, from the annual subscriptions of the inhabitants. There is a museum of natural curiosities in New York, but it contains nothing worthy of particular notice.
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0091">
0091
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
81
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXIX.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Number of Deaths at New York&mdash;Mode of living in America&mdash;The Yellow Fever&mdash;Population of New York&mdash;Deaths&mdash;Church-yards&mdash;Funerals&mdash;Society of New York&mdash;Elegant Women&mdash;French and English Dresses&mdash;Fine Figures&mdash;Delicate Complexions&mdash;Bad Teeth, a groundless Charge&mdash;Education&mdash;Thirst after Knowledge&mdash;Arts and Sciences&mdash;Literature&mdash;Taste for Reading&mdash;Salmagundi&mdash;The Echo&mdash;Barlow&apos;s Columbiad&mdash;Smoking&mdash;Style of living at New York&mdash;Splendid Marriages&mdash;Great Fortunes&mdash;Anecdote of a Sailor&mdash;Quakers&apos; Meeting&mdash;Quakers&mdash;Anecdote of a Jew&mdash;Singing Schools&mdash;Christmas Day&mdash;Political Parties&mdash;Duels.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
It
</hi>
 does not appear that the malignant or yellow fever made very great ravages among the inhabitants in 1805, the last time of its appearance in New York; for the deaths very little exceeded the preceding and subsequent years.
</p>
<list type="simple">
<item><p>In 1804 the deaths were 2,064
</p></item>
<item><p>1805
<hsep>2,352
</p></item>
<item><p>1806
<hsep>2,252
</p></item>
</list>
<p>
Of the above number fifty-one were suicides;
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
G
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0092">
0092
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
82
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
and according to the statement of Dr. Mitchill, upwards of one-third of the deaths are occasioned by consumption and debility. To the influence of moisture and the sudden changes of the weather has been attributed the prevalence of nervous disorders and debility among a great number of the inhabitants of the United States. Much may, no doubt, be ascribed to those causes; but I think the mode of living has a more immediate effect upon the human frame than even the climate of a country. The higher and middling classes of the Americans, who reside chiefly in the great towns or their neighbourhood, live, generally speaking, in a more luxurious manner than the same description of people in England. Not that their tables are more sumptuously furnished on particular occasions than ours; but that their ordinary meals consist of a greater variety of articles, many of which from too frequent use may, perhaps, become pernicious to the constitution. The constant use of segars by the young men, even from an early age, may also tend to impair the constitution, and create a stimulus beyond that which nature requires, or is capable of supporting. Their dread of the yellow fever has induced a more frequent use of tobacco of late years; but it is now grown into a habit that will not be easily abandoned. The other classes of the community, who reside in the interior and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0093">
0093
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
83
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
back parts of the country, are often obliged to live upon salt provisions the greatest part of the year, and sometimes on very scanty fare; besides which, they generally dwell in miserable log huts, incapable of defending them effectually from the severity of the weather. Those who have the means of living better are great eaters of animal food, which is introduced at every meal; together with a variety of hot cakes, and a profusion of butter: all which may more or less tend to the introduction of bilious disorders, and perhaps lay the foundation of those diseases which prove fatal in hot climates. The effects of a luxurious or meagre diet are equally injurious to the constitution, and, together with the sudden and violent changes of the climate, may create a series of nervous complaints, consumption, and debility, which in the states bordering on the Atlantic carry off at least one third of the inhabitants in the prime of life.
</p>
<p>
The malignant or yellow fever generally commences in the confined parts of the town, near the water-side, in the month of August or September. It is commonly supposed to have been introduced by the French refugees from St. Domingo during the French revolution; though some are of opinion that it originated in the States; and many physicians were puzzling their brains about its origin at a time when they ought to have been devising means to stop its ravages. As soon as
<lb>
G 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0094">
0094
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
84
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
this dreadful scourge makes its appearance in New York, the inhabitants shut up their shops, and fly from their houses into the country. Those who cannot go far, on account of business, remove to Greenwich, a small village situate on the border of the Hudson river, about two or three miles from town. Here the merchants and others have their offices, and carry on their concerns with little danger from the fever, which does not seem to be contagious beyond a certain distance. The banks and other public offices also remove their business to this place; and markets are regularly established for the supply of the inhabitants. Very few are left in the confined parts of the town except the poorer classes, and the negroes. The latter not being affected by the fever, are of great service at that dreadful crisis; and are the only persons who can be found to discharge the hazardous duties of attending the sick and burying the dead. Upwards of 26,000 people removed from the interior parts of the city, and from the streets near the water side, in 1805. Since then the town has happily been free from that dreadful scourge; and from the salutary regulations which have since been adopted, it is to be hoped that it will never make its appearance again. The finest cities in America were no doubt preserved from depopulation during the prevalence of the fever by the timely retreat of the inhabitants into the country. It is
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0095">
0095
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
85
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
to be wished that the same practice was permitted in Spain and other parts of the continent, which are sometimes visited by pestilential fevers, instead of surrounding the towns by a cordon of troops, and cutting off all communication between the unfortunate inhabitants and the country.
</p>
<p>
The following census of the population of New York was taken in 1807, and laid before the mayor, aldermen, and commonalty of the city in 1808.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0096">
0096
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
86
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
CENSUS FOR 1807.
</p>
<table entity="p0096">
<caption><p>
CENSUS OF THE ELECTORS AND TOTAL POPULATION OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK.
</p></caption>
<tabletext>
<cell>
Wards.
</cell>
<cell>
Free Persons.
</cell>
<cell>
Slaves.
</cell>
<cell>
Total Inhabitants.
</cell>
<cell>
Electors possessed of Freeholds of the value of 100l. and upwards.
</cell>
<cell>
Ditto possessed of Freeholds of 20l. and under 100l.
</cell>
<cell>
Ditto not possessed of Freeholds, but who rent tenements of the yearly value of 40s.
</cell>
<cell>
Ditto, who were Freemen on the 14th October 1775.
</cell>
<cell>
Total Electors.
</cell>
<cell>
First
</cell>
<cell>
7,584
</cell>
<cell>
370
</cell>
<cell>
7,954
</cell>
<cell>
374
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
707
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
1,086
</cell>
<cell>
Second
</cell>
<cell>
7,424
</cell>
<cell>
127
</cell>
<cell>
7,551
</cell>
<cell>
355
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
687
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1,042
</cell>
<cell>
Third
</cell>
<cell>
7,303
</cell>
<cell>
406
</cell>
<cell>
7,709
</cell>
<cell>
337
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
779
</cell>
<cell>
1,118
</cell>
<cell>
Fourth
</cell>
<cell>
9,089
</cell>
<cell>
147
</cell>
<cell>
9,236
</cell>
<cell>
351
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
976
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
1,331
</cell>
<cell>
Fifth
</cell>
<cell>
12,603
</cell>
<cell>
136
</cell>
<cell>
12,739
</cell>
<cell>
462
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
1,429
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
1,901
</cell>
<cell>
Sixth
</cell>
<cell>
9,749
</cell>
<cell>
112
</cell>
<cell>
9,861
</cell>
<cell>
258
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1,163
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
1,427
</cell>
<cell>
Seventh
</cell>
<cell>
10,363
</cell>
<cell>
124
</cell>
<cell>
19,487
</cell>
<cell>
413
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
2,718
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
3,140
</cell>
<cell>
Eighth
</cell>
<cell>
5,959
</cell>
<cell>
103
</cell>
<cell>
6,067
</cell>
<cell>
302
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
715
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1,023
</cell>
<cell>
Ninth
</cell>
<cell>
2,680
</cell>
<cell>
246
</cell>
<cell>
2,926
</cell>
<cell>
158
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
174
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
339
</cell>
<cell>
Total
</cell>
<cell>
81,754
</cell>
<cell>
1776
</cell>
<cell>
83,530
</cell>
<cell>
3,010
</cell>
<cell>
20
</cell>
<cell>
9,348
</cell>
<cell>
29
</cell>
<cell>
12,407
</cell>
</tabletext>
</table>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0097">
0097
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
87
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
Of the preceding number of inhabitants 42,881 are females, and 40,649 are males; making a total of 83,530. In 1805 the population of New York was 75,770: thus in the course of one year and ten months there has been an increase of inhabitants to the amount of 7,760: and within the same period the number of slaves has decreased 272. The following table exhibits the population of this city at different periods from its earliest settlement.
</p>
<list type="simple">
<item><p>In the year 1697 there were 4,302 inhabitants.
</p></item>
<item><p>1756
<hsep>5,000
</p></item>
<item><p>1771
<hsep>21,863
</p></item>
<item><p>1786
<hsep>23,614
</p></item>
<item><p>1791
<hsep>33,131
</p></item>
<item><p>1801
<hsep>60,489
</p></item>
<item><p>1805
<hsep>75,770
</p></item>
<item><p>1807
<hsep>83,530
</p></item>
</list>
<p>
Hence it appears that the population of New York has, in a period of twenty years from 1786 to 1805, more than tripled itself; and should the population continue to increase at the rate of five per cent. per annum, it will in 1855 amount to 705,650, a population greater than that of Paris. At this day it is equal to the whole number of inhabitants in the 
<hi rend="italics">
State
</hi>
 of New York fifty years ago.
</p>
<p>
If any estimate can be formed of the salubrity of the climate, and the healthiness of the inhabitants
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0098">
0098
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
88
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of a town, by the number of deaths, London must be reckoned to have the advantage of New York in these respects. The amount of deaths in the former city is about a 
<hi rend="italics">
fiftieth
</hi>
 part of its population, while in New York it is at least one 
<hi rend="italics">
thirtieth;
</hi>
 the number of deaths ranging between 2,500 and 3,000 per annum. I am, however, more inclined to attribute this great mortality to improper diet and mode of living than to the insalubrity of the climate. The church-yards and vaults are also situate in the heart of the town, and crowded with the dead. If they are not prejudicial to the health of the people, they are at least very unsightly exhibitions. One would think there was a scarcity of land in America, by seeing such large pieces of ground in one of the finest streets of New York occupied by the dead. But even if no noxious effluvia were to arise, (and I rather suspect there must in the months of July, August, and September,) still the continual view of such a crowd of white and brown tomb-stones and monuments which is exhibited in the Broadway, must at the sickly season of the year tend very much to depress the spirits, when they should rather be cheered and enlivened, for at that period much is effected by the force of imagination. There is a large burying-ground a short distance out of town; but the cemeteries in the city are still used at certain periods of the year.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0099">
0099
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
89
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
They bury their dead within twenty-four hours; a custom probably induced by the heat of the climate during the summer months: but I see no reason why it should be extended to the winter months, which are cold enough to allow of the dead being kept for three or four days, if nothing else prevents it. While I was at New York, a young gentleman, a native of Great Britain, who had settled in that city, died suddenly one evening at the house of an American gentleman to whose daughter he was paying his addresses. It was a most distressing scene for the young lady, for he dropped down at the very moment he was kneeling before her in a playful mood. The young man was taken home to the house where he lodged, and before four o&apos;clock the next afternoon he was interred. My motive for mentioning this circumstance is, because I understood that when they went to screw the coffin down he bled at the nose; and that the pillow on which his head reclined was warm: notwithstanding which he was buried, without any means being tried to restore him! I cannot but think this was a very culpable omission on the part of his friends, considering the sudden manner in which he had 
<hi rend="italics">
apparently
</hi>
 been deprived of life.
</p>
<p>
Funerals at New York, as well as in almost every other part of the United States, are attended by a numerous assemblage the friends and acquaintances
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0100">
0100
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
90
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of the deceased, who are invited by advertisements in the newspapers to attend their departed friend to the grave. On such occasions I have seen upwards of five hundred people, and the larger the number the more the deceased is supposed to be respected and valued. I cannot help thinking, however, that these numerous meetings savour somewhat of ostentation, though certainly there is no parade of hearses, nodding plumes, and mourning coaches. The people attend for the most part in their ordinary dress, except those who are nearly related, or particularly intimate with the deceased. The clergyman, physician, and chief mourners, wear white scarfs, which it is also the custom to wear on the following Sunday. The deceased is interred with or without prayers, according to the faith he professed.
</p>
<p>
The Society of New York consisists of three distinct classes. The 
<hi rend="italics">
first
</hi>
 is composed of the constituted authorities and government officers; divines, lawyers, and physicians of eminence; the principal merchants and people of independent property. The 
<hi rend="italics">
second
</hi>
 comprises the small merchants, retail dealers, clerks, subordinate officers of the government, and members of the three professions. The 
<hi rend="italics">
third
</hi>
 consists of the inferior orders of the people. The first of these associate together in a style of elegance and splendour
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little inferior to Europeans. Their houses are furnished with every thing that is useful, agreeable, or ornamental; and many of them are fitted up in the tasteful magnificence of modern style. The dress of the gentlemen is plain, elegant, and fashionable, and corresponds in every respect with the English costume. The ladies in general seem more partial to the light, various, and dashing drapery of the Parisian belles, than to the elegant and becoming attire of our London beauties, who improve upon the French fashions. But there are many who prefer the English costume, or at least a medium between that and the French.
</p>
<p>
In walking the Broadway, some mornings, I have been frequently tempted to believe, while admiring the beautiful forms that passed in review before me, that there existed a sort of rivalry among the New York beauties, as there did about a century ago among the ladies of England; and that instead of a patch on the right or left check, to denote a Whig or Tory, methought I could discern a pretty 
<hi rend="italics">
Democrat &agrave;
</hi>
 la mode Fran&ccedil;oise, and a sweet little 
<hi rend="italics">
Federalist &agrave;
</hi>
 la mode Angloise. I know not whether my surmises were just; but it is certain that Mrs. Toole and Madame Bouchard, the two rival leaders of fashion in caps, bonnets, feathers, flowers, muslin, and lace, have each their partisans and admirers: one because she is an Englishwoman, and the other because she is French;
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
and if the ladies are not really divided in opinion as to politics, they are most unequivocally at issue with respect to dress.
</p>
<p>
The young ladies of New York are in general handsome, and almost universally fine genteel figures. Though I am not inclined, like their sly castigator Anthony Evergreen, to attribute their fine forms to 
<hi rend="italics">
pickles
</hi>
 and the 
<hi rend="italics">
vinegar-cruet;
</hi>
 yet they certainly are too fond of 
<hi rend="italics">
tight lacing
</hi>
, and compressing their waists between 
<hi rend="italics">
steel, stay tape,
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
whalebone.
</hi>
 Fair complexions, regular features, and fine forms, seem to be the prevailing characteristics of the American fair sex. They do not, however, enjoy their beauty for so long a period as Englishwomen, neither do they possess the blooming countenance and rosy tinge of health so predominant among our fair countrywomen, whose charms never stand in need of cosmetics. The beauty of the American women partakes more of the 
<hi rend="italics">
lily
</hi>
 than the 
<hi rend="italics">
rose;
</hi>
 though the soft glow of the latter is sometimes to be met with. Their climate, however, is not so favourable to beauty as that of England, in consequence of the excessive heat and violent changes of the weather peculiar to America. I must not omit to mention, in justice to the American fair, that I saw but very few who had recourse to 
<hi rend="italics">
rouge
</hi>
 for the purpose of heightening their charms.
</p>
<p>
Most travellers who have visited America have
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0103">
0103
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
93
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
charged the ladies of the United States universally with having bad teeth. This accusation is certainly very erroneous when applied to the whole of the fair sex, and to them alone. That the inhabitants of the States are often subject to a premature loss of teeth is allowed by themselves; and the cause has even been discussed in the papers read before the American Philosophical Society; but it does not particularly attach to the females, who, as far as I have been able to judge, are much more exempt from that misfortune than the men. Indeed most of the young ladies I met with during my tour through the country had in general excellent teeth: some in particular were extremely even and regular, and as white as ivory. One instance of this, I met with in Miss M&mdash;, a handsome young quakeress, the daughter of the lady at whose house I boarded. If Mr. Moore had had the good fortune to have seen her 
<hi rend="italics">
ivory teeth
</hi>
, her 
<hi rend="italics">
ruby lips
</hi>
, and 
<hi rend="italics">
blooming countenance
</hi>
, he would not have so coolly said&mdash;
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="blockindent">
&ldquo;Some cavillers&mdash;
<lb>
Object to sleep with fellow travellers;
<lb>
But Saints protect the 
<hi rend="italics">
pretty quaker
</hi>
,
<lb>
Heaven forbid that I should 
<hi rend="italics">
wake her!
</hi>
&rdquo;
</hi>
</p>
<p>
It must be evident that the accusation has originated in misrepresentation, or calumny; and because some have been found who had indifferent teeth, the whole of the American fair sex
<pageinfo>
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
have been branded with a charge that at the utmost can only apply individually. From constant repetition by travellers, who have not taken the trouble to judge for themselves, or to investigate the truth of former accounts, bad teeth have now become, in the opinion of Europeans, a national characteristic of the American ladies; when the fact is, that it is as far removed from the truth as those estimates which we form of the character of a whole nation from the conduct of a few individuals belonging to it. The Englishman is all gloominess and brutality&mdash;the Frenchman all amiability and politeness&mdash;the German all clownishness and drunkenness&mdash;the Spaniard all gravity and haughtiness.&mdash;Yet few persons will allow that these are correct characters of those people: on the contrary, whatever they might have been ages past, they are now considered only all vulgar errors. I have been anxious to rescue the American fair from so foul an aspersion, because, as far as I had an opportunity of judging during my stay in the country, I do not think they ever merited it; and I am fully persuaded, that if they do not injure the personal charms which nature has so lavishly bestowed upon them, by the ridiculous vagaries of fashion, improper living, or careless exposure to the vicissitudes of the climate, their appearance will completely refute the illiberal and unhandsome assertions of foreigners.
</p>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
Much has also been said of the deficiency of the polite and liberal accomplishments among both sexes in the United States. Whatever truth there may have formerly been in this statement, I do not think there is any foundation for it at present, at least in New York, where there appears to be a great thirst after knowledge. The riches that have flowed into that city, for the last twenty years, have brought with them a taste for the refinements of polished society; and though the inhabitants cannot yet boast of having reached the standard of European perfection, they are not wanting in the solid and rational parts of education; nor in many of those accomplishments which ornament and embellish private life. It has become the fashion in New York to attend lectures on moral philosophy, chemistry, mineralogy, botany, mechanics, &amp;c.; and the ladies in particular have made considerable progress in those studies. Many young men, who were so enveloped in business as to neglect or disdain the pursuit of such liberal and polite acquirements, have been often laughed from the counting-house to the lecture-room by their more accomplished female companions. The desire for instruction and information, indeed, is not confined to the youthful part of the community; many married ladies and their families may be seen at philosophical and chemical lectures, and the spirit of inquiry
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0106">
0106
</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
is becoming more general among the gentlemen. The majority of the merchants, however, still continue more partial to the rule of three, than a dissertation upon oxygen or metaphysics. Most of them have acquired large fortunes by their regular and plodding habits of business, and are loth to part with any portion of it, at their time of life, in the purchase of knowledge, or the encouragement of the arts and sciences. Some, it must be allowed, are exceptions; and others, if they will not partake of instruction themselves, are not sparing of their money, in imparting it to their children. The immense property which has been introduced into the country by commerce, has hardly had time to circulate and diffuse itself through the community. It is at present too much in the hands of a few individuals, to enable men to devote the whole of their lives to the study of the arts and sciences. Farmers, merchants, physicians, lawyers, and divines, are all that America can produce for many years to come; and if authors, artists, or philosophers make their appearance at any time, they must, as they have hitherto done, spring from one of the above professions.
</p>
<p>
Colleges and schools are multiplying very rapidly all over the United States; but education is in many places still defective, in consequence of the want of proper encouragement, and better
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0107">
0107
</controlpgno>
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97
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
teachers. A grammar-school has recently been instituted at New York, for the instruction of youth, upon a similar plan to the great public schools in England.
</p>
<p>
A taste for reading has of late diffused itself throughout the country, particularly in the great towns; and several young ladies have displayed their abilities in writing. Some of their novels and fugitive pieces of poetry and prose are written with taste and judgement. Two or three at New York have particularly distinguished themselves. It seems, indeed, that the fair sex of America have, within these few years, been desirous of imitating the example of the English and French ladies, who have contributed so much to extend the pleasures of rational conversation and intellectual enjoyment. They have cast away the frivolous and gossiping tittle tattle, which before occupied so much of their attention, and assumed the more dignified and instructive discourse upon arts, sciences, literature, and moral philosophy.
</p>
<p>
Many of the young men, too, whose minds have not been wholly absorbed by pounds, shillings, and pence, have shown that they possess literary qualifications and talents, that would, if their time and fortune permitted, rank them among some of the distinguished authors of Europe. The most prominent of their late productions is the 
<hi rend="italics">
Salmagundi
</hi>
,
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
H
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0108">
0108
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
98
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
published in monthly essays at New York. This little work has been deservedly a great favourite with the public, and bids fair to be handed down with honour to posterity. It possesses more of the broad humour of Rabelais and Swift, than the elegant morality of Addison and Steele, and is therefore less likely to become a classical work; but as a correct picture of the people of New York, and other parts of the country, though somewhat heightened by caricature, and as a humorous representation of their manners, habits, and customs, it will always be read with interest by a native of the United States.
</p>
<p>
A publication called the 
<hi rend="italics">
Echo
</hi>
 is a smart production of detached poetry, commenced for the purpose of satirizing the vices and follies of the political factions of the day, who broached their revolutionary dogmas through the medium of the public prints. Several other publications of merit have originated in America, and are well known in England. Mr. Barlow&apos;s 
<hi rend="italics">
Columbiad
</hi>
 has lately made its appearance in a very splendid form. It is an enlargement of his vision of Columbus. Upon this poem I shall offer some remarks in the chapter containing biographical notices of the leading public characters of America.
</p>
<p>
Dancing is an amusement that the New York ladies are passionately fond of, and they are said
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0109">
0109
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
99
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
to excel those of every other city in the Union. I visited the 
<hi rend="italics">
City Assembly
</hi>
, which is held at the City Hotel in the Broadway, and considered as the best in New York. It was the first night of the season, and there were not more than one hundred and fifty persons present. I did not perceive any thing different from an English assembly, except the cotillons, which were danced in an admirable manner, alternately with the country dances. Several French gentlemen were present, and figured away in the cotillons with considerable taste and agility. The subscription is two dollars and a half for each night, and includes tea, coffee, and a cold collation. None but the first class of society can become subscribers to this assembly. Another has, however, been recently established, in which the genteel part of the second class are admitted, who were shut out from the 
<hi rend="italics">
City Assembly.
</hi>
 A spirit of jealousy and pride has caused the subscribers of the 
<hi rend="italics">
new assembly
</hi>
 to make their subscription three dollars, and to have their balls also at the City Hotel. It was so well conducted, that many of the subscribers of the City assembly seceded, and joined the opposition one, or subscribed to both.
</p>
<p>
Many of the young ladies are well accomplished in music and drawing, and practise them with considerable success; but they do not excel in those acquirements, as they do in dancing. Among
<lb>
H 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0110">
0110
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
100
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the young men these accomplishments are but little cultivated. Billiards and smoking seem to be their favourite amusements. A segar is in their mouth from morning to night, when in the house, and not unfrequently when walking the street. A box full is constantly carried in the coat pocket, and handed occasionally to a friend, as familiarly as our dashing youths take out their 
<hi rend="italics">
gold box
</hi>
 and offer 
<hi rend="italics">
a pinch of snuff.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
Billiards are played with 
<hi rend="italics">
two
</hi>
 red balls. This is called the 
<hi rend="italics">
American game
</hi>
, and differs in no other respect from the mode of playing in England. New York contains several excellent tables.
</p>
<p>
The style of living in New York is fashionable and splendid; many of the principal merchants and people of property have elegant equipages, and those who have none of their own may be accommodated with handsome carriages and horses at the livery stables; for there are no coach stands. The winter is passed in a round of entertainments and amusements; at the theatre, public assemblies, philosophical and experimental lectures, concerts, balls, tea and card-parties, cariole excursions out of town, &amp;c. The American cariole, or sleigh, is much larger than that of Canada, and will hold several people. It is fixed upon high runners, and drawn by two horses in the curricle style. Parties to dinner and dances are frequently made in the winter season when the snow is on
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0111">
0111
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
101
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the ground. They proceed in carioles a few miles out of town to some hotel or tavern, where the entertainment is kept up to a late hour, and the parties return home by torch-light.
</p>
<p>
Marriages are conducted in the most splendid style, and form an important part of the winter&apos;s entertainments. For some years it was the fashion to keep them only among a select circle of friends; but of late the opulent parents of the new-married lady have thrown open their doors, and invited the town to partake of their felicity. The young couple, attended by their nearest connexions and friends, are married at home in a magnificent style; and if the parties are episcopalians, the bishop of New York is always procured, if possible; as his presence gives a greater zest to the nuptials. For three days after the marriage ceremony, the new-married couple see company in great state, and every genteel person who can procure an introduction may pay his respects to the bride and bridegroom. It is a sort of levee; and the visitors, after their introduction, partake of a cup of coffee or other refreshment, and walk away. Sometimes the night concludes with a concert and ball, or cards, among those friends and acquaintance who are invited to remain.
</p>
<p>
Several young ladies in New York have fortunes of a hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and often bestow their hand upon a favourite
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0112">
0112
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
102
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
youth who has every thing to recommend him but money. Two or three instances of the kind occurred while I was in the States. I understand that unhappy marriages are by no means frequent; and that parents are not apt to force the inclinations of their children from avaricious motives. Summer affords the inhabitants the diversions of hunting, shooting, fishing, and horse-racing; excursions upon the water, to the island, in the bay, and to Sandy Hook, and a variety of beautiful tours within twenty miles of the city. Among the most distinguished are those of New Utrecht, Rockaway, Islip, the Passaick Falls, and Kingsbridge. A place called Ballston, within two hundred miles of New York, in the interior of the State, contains some mineral springs, and of late years has become a fashionable place of resort for invalids. Like most places of that kind in England, it is visited by the gentry, who go there more for amusement and fashion than to drink the waters. Ballston possesses but few natural attractions, except its mineral springs.
</p>
<p>
The inhabitants of New York are not remarkable for early rising, and little business seems to be done before nine or ten o&apos;clock. Most of the merchants and people in business dine about two o&apos;clock; others who are less engaged, about three: but four o&apos;clock is usually the fashionable hour for dining. The gentlemen are partial to the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0113">
0113
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
103
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
bottle, but not to excess; and at private dinner-parties they seldom sit more than two hours drinking wine. They leave the table, one after the other; and walk away to some tea party, without bidding their host good afternoon. The servants are mostly negroes or mulattoes, some free, and others slaves: but there are many 
<hi rend="italics">
white
</hi>
 servants of both sexes; and they who expect to see a 
<hi rend="italics">
pure republican equality
</hi>
 existing in America will find themselves greatly deceived.
</p>
<p>
The embargo had a considerable effect upon the amusements of the people, and rendered the town gloomy and melancholy. The sailors, however, belonging to the shipping in port had a holiday, and, while their money lasted, amused themselves with fiddling, dancing, and carousing with their girls. Many of them essayed their equestrian powers upon the backs of some gingered rozinantes, which frequently compelled them to make a 
<hi rend="italics">
somerset
</hi>
 over their horses&apos; heads. I was told of one who carried with him a small grappling-iron; and while the horse was at full speed down one of the streets, he threw out the anchor, which catching hold of the stones, suddenly brought him up, broke his horse&apos;s neck, and hurled him a distance of several yards upon the pavement. He was drunk; and as &ldquo;a drunken man is never in danger,&rdquo; he escaped with little injury.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0114">
0114
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
104
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
New York abounds with religious sects of various denominations; but the episcopalians and presbyterians seem to be the most numerous, at least they have more places of worship than any of the others. The quakers form but a small community in this city, and even that is decreasing; for the young people do not appear much inclined to follow up the strict ceremonials of their parents in point of dress and manners. They do not attach much weight to a broad-brim&apos;d hat, nor to the old-fashioned cut of plain coloured clothes. These little aberrations, however, do not bring upon them the public censure of the Friends, unless they are accompanied by visiting plays, dances, and other public amusements; playing at cards, music, &amp;c. for which they are read out of the society. Notwithstanding this excommunication, many still continue to attend the meetings, and, if they afterwards deport themselves in an orderly manner, may be received into the community again.
</p>
<p>
I attended a meeting of the Friends in Liberty-street one Sunday, in company with the family at our house. I observed that most of the young men did not conform very strictly to the plain dress; but the young ladies appeared, at least outwardly, in the perfect costume of the Quaker; though I had good reason to suspect that many had fashionable muslin dresses underneath their
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0115">
0115
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
105
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<hi rend="italics">
plain cloaks
</hi>
, that would have made their elders sigh for the degeneracy of the times, had they been exposed to view in their silent conclave. I sat nearly two hours in anxious expectation that the spirit would move one of the Friends to relieve the monotonous silence of this solemn meeting. Only a few words of admonition would have removed the tedium I felt: but not a syllable escaped the lips of any one during the whole of the sitting; and I was so posted in the rear of the brethren, that I had seldom an opportunity of catching a glimpse of the countenances of the lovely young sisters who sat with the rest of their sex on one side of the house. A few of the elders of both sexes were planted opposite to us, for the purpose, I suppose, of being a check upon the looks and motions of the younger branches. After this long and silent cogitation, one of the old Friends got up; I now expected to hear the much-wished-for discourse: but, to my disappointment, he shook the next to him by the hand; which being the signal for a general rising, the meeting broke up. Their thoughts had, no doubt, been employed upon celestial objects; but, for my part, I am sorry to say that mine were continually wandering towards objects of a terrestrial nature.
</p>
<p>
It is certainly a delicate matter to introduce innovations in the old-established laws of any community, even though they have for their object
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0116">
0116
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
106
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
its ultimate improvement. Yet I do conceive, if the Quakers were to allow their young people certain innocent amusements, and a slight relaxation in dress, which are at present forbidden, and were to adopt a form of prayer or service, with hymns, &amp;c. agreeable to their tenets, to be read or sung in those intervals when the Friends were unmoved by the spirit, that their society would not diminish as it does at present; for their manners and conduct are so gentle and exemplary, their regulations and form of government so beneficial to the community, that, if they gained no converts, they would lose none of their society. Their doctrine of non-resistance is perhaps carried too far, and is little calculated for this world. But it is necessary that a certain degree of patience and forbearance should be exercised under injuries, without which, human life would become a perpetual state of hostility, from the continual repetition of offences and retaliations, that would succeed each other in endless train.
</p>
<p>
There are several rich and respectable families of Jews in New York; and as they have equal rights with every other citizen in the United States, they suffer under no invidious distinctions. A story is related of a respectable Jew at New York, who, through the malice of a powerful neighbour, was chosen constable, an office which the former endeavoured in vain to be excused from
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0117">
0117
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
107
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
serving. The first Sunday of his entering upon his office, he seated himself on a stool before his door, and every servant that went by to fetch water, he took the pails from. He also interrupted, as far as in his power, every kind of work on the 
<hi rend="italics">
Sabbath day
</hi>
, and so annoyed his enemy and the rest of the neighbourhood with the severity of his regulations, that they were very glad to substitute another person in his place.
</p>
<p>
There are about 4,000 negroes and people of colour in New York, 1,700 of whom are slaves. These people are mostly of the Methodist persuasion, and have a chapel or two of their own with preachers of their colour; though some attend other places of worship according to their inclination. All religious sects in the United States are upon an equal footing, no one has any established prerogative above another; but in any place, on particular occasions, where precedence is given to one over another, the episcopal church, or that sect which is most numerous, generally takes the lead.
</p>
<p>
In company with a gentleman one evening, I visited a singing-school in Warren-street. Here we found upwards of 150 youths of all ages and sexes present, sitting on forms round the room, with a narrow desk before them to hold their hymn book. They were mostly children of the middling and lower class of people, who were methodists
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0118">
0118
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
108
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
and dissenters of different denominations. A man walked about in the middle of the room and gave out the notes or cadence, with 
<hi rend="italics">
fa
</hi>
, 
<hi rend="italics">
la
</hi>
, 
<hi rend="italics">
sol
</hi>
, &amp;c. afterwards they sung the words from the hymn books. I could perceive that many of the young men and women were more fond of ogling each other, than perusing their books, and several amorous youths appeared to be waiting in the passage, and in the singing-room, to escort their sweethearts home. The teacher has two dollars a year for every scholar. This mode of teaching a style of music that can be adapted nearly to all the hymns that are sung at the meetings and chapels of the different dissenting sects, is common in the United States; but more particularly in the northern and middle parts of the union. There is consequently a sameness, which does not accord so well with the ear as the sublime music of the episcopal church, and the pleasing variety of many of the dissenting places of worship in England.
</p>
<p>
Christmas-day and other festivals are observed much in the same manner as in England; but in consequence of there being no established form of worship, as with us, the religious observance of those days is only 
<hi rend="italics">
recommended
</hi>
 to the people, by a number of the clergy of different denominations, who assemble together and communicate their wishes to the common council, who make them
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0119">
0119
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
109
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
known to the public. The following is one of their resolutions for Christmas-day 1807.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;IN COMMON COUNCIL.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
December
</hi>
 21, 1807.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;The following communication having been received from the reverend clergy of this city:
</p>
<p>
&lsquo;A number of the clergy, of different denominations of this city, at a meeting held on Wednesday the 16th inst. having taken into consideration the merciful dispensations of Divine Providence towards this city, during the last season, and also the present aspect of public affairs:
</p>
<p>
&lsquo;Resolved, That it is proper to take public and solemn notice of the Divine goodness, and as a people, to implore the continued protection, and those temporal and spiritual blessings, which are so essential to our welfare.
</p>
<p>
&lsquo;Resolved, That it be recommended to the several congregations under our pastoral care, to set apart Friday the 25th instant, as a day of solemn 
<hi rend="italics">
thanksgiving and prayer;
</hi>
 and that, abstaining from all kinds of servile labour and recreations on that day, they come together to acknowledge the mercy of God, in again exempting us from the scourge of pestilence, to praise him for the multiplied favours of his gracious providence, to beseech him to preserve us in peace, and to continue and extend our national prosperity; and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0120">
0120
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
110
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
above all, to pray for the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit on our churches, and that we may be favoured with all spiritual and heavenly blessings in Christ Jesus.
</p>
<p>
&lsquo;Signed by order of the Meeting,
<lb>
&lsquo;
<hi rend="smallcaps">
John Rodgers,
</hi>
 Chairman.&rsquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Resolved, That the Board unite in the recommendation of the reverend clergy of this city, upon the above occasion, and accordingly 
<hi rend="italics">
recommend
</hi>
, that Friday the 25th day of December be observed and set apart as a day of public and special thanksgiving and prayer to Almighty God, for his benevolent dispensations of mercy to this city: and we accordingly 
<hi rend="italics">
recommend
</hi>
 to our fellow citizens, that they carefully abstain from all recreations and secular employments on that day.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;By the Common Council,
<lb>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="smallcaps">
John Pintard,
</hi>
 Clerk.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
New York, Dec. 22
</hi>
, 1807.
</p>
<p>
The shops were accordingly shut, the people attended public worship, and the day was religiously and strictly observed. I did not, however, understand that roast beef and plum-pudding, turkey and chine, mince pies, &amp;c. smoked on the American tables as they do in England on that festival; though, perhaps, those Americans who yet retain a spice of the English character about
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them may continue the good old practice of their ancestors.
</p>
<p>
New Year&apos;s Day is the most important of the whole year. All the complimentary visits, fun, and merriment of the season seem to be reserved for this day, though much is now worn away by the innovations of fashion. Many of the shops are shut up; and the presbyterians, and a few other religious dissenters, attend public worship. The mayor of the city, and others of the constituted authorities, advertise, two or three days before, that they will reciprocate the compliments of the season with the inhabitants at their house on New Year&apos;s Day. In consequence of this invitation, I accompanied a gentleman to the mayor&apos;s house in Water-street: we found the old gentleman surrounded by his friends and acquaintance. The room was crowded, and the gentlemen were coming in, going out, and taking refreshments at a large table spread out with cakes, wine, and punch. Having paid our respects to his worship, wished him the compliments of the season, a happy new year, and drank a glass of excellent punch, we took our leave.
</p>
<p>
The bakers, on this day, distribute to their customers small cakes made in a variety of shapes and figures; and the newspaper editors greet their readers with a poetical retrospect of the events of the old year: it accords with their political principles,
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and is generally a severe party philippic. New York, like the other large cities of the union, is a prey to the violent spirit of the two parties, who are known under the titles of federalists and democrats. The newspapers are almost equally divided between the two, to whose views they are of course subservient, and have the effect of keeping up a continual warfare, in which they belabour each other, their rulers, and the English and French nations, without mercy. &ldquo;Every day,&rdquo; as Mustapha Rubadub observes in Salmagundi, &ldquo;have these slang-whangers made furious attacks on each other, and upon their respective adherents, discharging their heavy artillery, consisting of large sheets, loaded with scoundrel! villain! liar! rascal! numskull! nincompoop! dunder-head! wise-acre! block-head! jackass! and I do swear by my beard, though I know thou wilt scarcely credit me, that in some of these skirmishes the grand bashaw himself has been woefully pelted! yea, most ignominiously pelted! and yet have these 
<hi rend="italics">
talking
</hi>
 desperadoes escaped without the bastinado!&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
The drinking of toasts at public dinners is a very common method of venting party spleen in America, and of 
<hi rend="italics">
drinking
</hi>
 destruction to their enemies. The newspapers publish long lists of these toasts the next day, as so many proofs of patriotism and virtue; and take a pride in showing how brilliantly
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their partisans can blackguard public characters in their cups. It was the violent spirit of party that occasioned the duel between General Hamilton and Colonel Burr. Hamilton fell regretted by all parties, and was particularly deplored by the citizens of New York, among whom he resided. Burr escaped, only to become odious in the sight of the whole nation.
</p>
<p>
Duels are very frequent and fatal throughout the States, and all attempts to prevent them have hitherto failed. At New York, a law was passed to prohibit the sending of challenges, and the fighting of duels, under severe penalties; but it answered no other end than to produce a smart piece of satire on the subject of duels.
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I
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXX.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Leave New York for Charleston&mdash;Take passage in the Calliope&mdash;Fellow Passengers&mdash;The Irish Knife-grinder&mdash;Gun-boats&mdash;Quarantine Ground&mdash;Sandy Hook&mdash;Gulf Stream&mdash;Arrival at Charleston&mdash;Streets&mdash;Houses&mdash;Public Buildings&mdash;East Bay&mdash;St. Michael&apos;s&mdash;The Branch Bank&mdash;Charleston Library&mdash;The Museum&mdash;Poisonous Tree&mdash;Pernicious Effects of the Pride of India&mdash;Turkey Buzzards&mdash;Dead Horses&mdash;The Golgotha&mdash;Negligence of the Municipality&mdash;Public Buildings&mdash;The Orphan House&mdash;The Theatre&mdash;Vauxhall&mdash;Anecdote of Mrs. S&mdash;.&mdash;Unfortunate Courtship&mdash;The Market-place&mdash;Productions&mdash;Price of Provisions, &amp;c.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
I had
</hi>
 now remained at New York upwards of six weeks, during which the weather had been remarkably agreeable. Sometimes it was as mild and open as spring; and at other times diversified with a gentle frost, which suited better with the season. But at length winter began to show itself in its true colours; the snow fell in considerable quantities, and was succeeded by a keen and piercing frost, which crowded the Hudson and
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East Rivers with floating ice. This was the period I chose for my emigration to the southward. Like the bird of passage, I had quitted the bleak air of Canada at the approach of winter for the warmer one of New York, where autumn still reigned in &ldquo;milder majesty.&rdquo; Here I rested for a few weeks, until I was again overtaken by the icy hand of old Winter. This time, however, I was determined to elude his grasp, and on the 9th of January 1808 I went on board one of the regular packets for Charleston in South Carolina.
</p>
<p>
The vessel was a small brig, called the Calliope, and commanded by Captain Records, who had formerly been an officer in the United States navy. There were four other passengers in the cabin: one of them, a Mr. Franklin of the New York bank, I had been introduced to the evening before; a circumstance the more agreeable, as it is a better prelude to acquaintance than the casual meeting of strangers on board a ship; and in a foreign country such little intimacies serve to render travelling very agreeable. This gentleman was a native of Nova Scotia, but had resided several years at New York: he was going to Charleston for the recovery of his health, which had been much impaired by the confinement of office. Another of the passengers was also going to avoid the sharp air of New England, and to pass the winter in Charleston for the double purpose of
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recruiting his health and collecting some outstanding debts owing to him in that city. This gentleman, whose name was Turner, had resided several years at Charleston as a dancing, and fencing-master. He had been a captain in the continental army during the American war; but on the return of peace was disbanded, and obliged to take up those professions as the only means of obtaining a livelihood. He was descended from an English family in Essex, and was proud to acknowledge it. His manners were uncommonly pleasant and amusing; and during the whole passage he afforded us great diversion by the facetiousness of his disposition and the number of entertaining anecdotes which he related. The other passengers were, a Mr. Bird, an English gentleman who resided in New York as merchant, and agent for a house in London; and Mr. Wilson, a young American trader belonging to Gennessee county in the state of New York.
</p>
<p>
These were the whole of the cabin passengers exclusive of myself. But I must not omit to mention a forecastle passenger who messed with the sailors. He was an old Irishman, who had lived many years in the United States, and was now going upon a speculation to Charleston in the itinerant knife and razor-grinding profession. His wheels and other apparatus were stowed away in the long-boat upon deck, and he took up his
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quarters in the hold upon some trusses of hay, which served him for a bed. He had for a fellow-passenger 
<hi rend="italics">
a Horse
</hi>
, who while the grinder was asleep would frequently devour the 
<hi rend="italics">
bed
</hi>
 from under him.
</p>
<p>
We left New York about nine, with the advantage of a fine clear morning and fair wind, to sail through the Narrows. There are three small islands in the bay; the largest of which, called Governor&apos;s Island, lies opposite the city to the eastward of the Battery. It consists of about 70 acres of land; and its jurisdiction has been ceded by the State of New York to the United States, for the purposes of public defence. It contains a fortification called Fort Jay; but that, as well as the fort on one of the smaller islands near the Jersey shore, is very inadequate to the defence of such a large and wealthy city.
</p>
<p>
To the westward of New York, on the Jersey shore, is Powle&apos;s Hook. It is a small peninsula intersected with creeks and salt meadows, but of late has been considerably improved by a company who have established themselves for the purpose of building a city, which is to become the capital of the state of New Jersey, and intended to rival New York. A few straggling buildings are all that yet appear. It was on this shore that General Hamilton and Colonel Burr evaded the laws of New York,
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and fought the duel which proved fatal to the former gentleman.
</p>
<p>
As we approached near Staten Island, we were boarded by an officer from one of the gun-boats cruising in the bay. He examined the captain&apos;s papers; and being satisfied that we were bound only to a port in the United States, he allowed us to proceed on our voyage. Several instances have occurred of vessels breaking the embargo laws and escaping to the West Indies or Europe. They cannot, however, return while the act is in force, but must trade between foreign places under the protection of an English license, or a French certificate of origin.
</p>
<p>
We observed a great number of gun-boats at the Quarantine Ground. They are a small despicable craft, built of various sizes, shapes, and figures; some with one mast, others with two: the latter have one mast raking forward, and the other aft, with narrow lug sails; but they do not appear to please the eye of a seaman, for I have never yet heard them spoken of with approbation by any nautical man. They generally carry one gun from 24 to 38-pounder, and from 20 to 30 men, with two or three officers, though their full complement is upwards of 50 men. A part of the crew are artillerymen, who act also as marines. The accommodations on board are very uncomfortable;
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for few of them will admit a man to stand upright, being built broad and shallow, for the purpose of running into shoal water. When they put to sea in blowing weather, the men are constantly wet. They are only fit for smooth and shallow waters as a defence against the armed boats of hostile shipping, but never against the ships themselves; for one broadside from a frigate would sink a dozen of them. The only service in which they have hitherto been of any use is in enforcing the municipal regulations of the United States upon the rivers, harbours, and waters of the Union. They have, however, been sometimes found inadequate even in this easy service; for several vessels have escaped from port since the embargo, and even returned the fire of these insignificant craft.
</p>
<p>
The Quarantine Ground is situated on the north-east side of Staten Island, and comprizes about thirty acres of land, which was bought by the state of New York about ten years ago for the accommodation of the sick, and for the detention of such vessels as were too foul for admission to the wharfs of the city. The ground is pleasantly situated on the side of a hill; and the neat and commodious appearance of the dwelling-houses, stores, hospitals, &amp;c. is very agreeable, particularly to those who have just arrived from sea. A branch of the custom-house is also stationed here. A short
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distance from this place is Signal-hill, where a number of poles are erected to display the public and private signals, which may be seen from the battery at New York. Every merchant has a particular signal to inform him of the arrival of his vessels, long before they come in sight of the town, in the same manner as practised at Liverpool. The land hereabout is considerably elevated, and is divided from Long Island by a small channel called the 
<hi rend="italics">
Narrows.
</hi>
 A shoal extends nearly one third across the channel towards Staten Island; and from the appearance of the land on both shores, I am led to think that Staten and Long Island were formerly one.
</p>
<p>
Sandy Hook is a narrow beach running from south to north, about eight miles from the foot of the Neversink Hills. It was formerly connected with the continent; but during the winter of 1804 it was detached from thence, and formed into an island. Small coasting craft can pass through the opening at high water. A noble light-house is erected upon the Hook, and stands about due south from the city-hall of New York. During the American war, the Countess Dowager of Morton erected on the west side of Sandy-hook a fine monument of marble to the memory of her son, Lieutenant Haliburton of the royal navy, who, together with a boat&apos;s crew, perished there in a snow storm. A few years ago this work of parental
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affection was beat down and destroyed by the crew of a French armed ship, in a manner that reflects no honour upon their professional or manly feelings. It was ungenerous to wage war with the dead, or to demolish the works erected to perpetuate their fame.
</p>
<p>
Towards evening we lost sight of the 
<hi rend="italics">
Neversink
</hi>
 Hills, and could not help reflecting upon the absurdity of their name, while I beheld their summits 
<hi rend="italics">
sink
</hi>
 gradually into the ocean as the vessel receded from the coast. On the fourth day we passed the light-house on Cape Hatteras, about four in the afternoon, soon after which it came on to blow with great violence; the wind changed, and by the next morning we found ourselves in the 
<hi rend="italics">
gulf stream.
</hi>
 The gale continued to increase, and for six-and-thirty hours we lay-to under a double-reefed fore-and-aft main sail, and storm stay-sail. The 
<hi rend="italics">
gulf stream
</hi>
 is said to be upwards of 100 miles distant from the coast, and is nearly of the same extent in breadth. It makes a circuit through the Gulf of Mexico, round Florida, from whence it runs to the northward as far as the banks of Newfoundland, where it branches off to the eastward. In this stream the sea is almost always violently agitated, and covered with dense vapours; its water is considerably warmer than that of the surrounding ocean, and of a greater depth. The fogs on the banks of Newfoundland are no doubt
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in a great measure produced by the gulf stream; and from the rapidity of its currents breaking over such an immense surface of earth as the grand bank, arises that almost constant raging of the ocen peculiar to that place.
</p>
<p>
On the sixth day the gale moderated; but a heavy sea continued, and prevented us from getting clear of the gulf stream, which had carried us almost back again to the latitude of New York; for it runs upon an average at the rate of three miles an hour. Fortunately for us the weather became more favourable; and by the next morning we were clear of the stream. It was, however, upwards of seven days more before we arrived off Charleston, though its distance from New York is not more than 750 miles, and a passage between the two cities is often made in three or four days.
</p>
<p>
I was glad to find myself again on shore, after a rough and tedious voyage of fourteen days; though I considered myself somewhat fortunate, for Mr. Welch, who left me at New York, was three weeks on his passage to Charleston. It was now the 23d of January, and a smart frost had prevailed here for two or three days; but no snow had fallen so far to the southward. The weather afterwards became extremely mild, and even rivalled in warmth an English summer.
</p>
<p>
The site of Charleston nearly resembles that of
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New York, being on a point of land at the confluence of the rivers Ashley and Cooper, and about fifteen miles distant from the light-house. The town is built on a level sandy soil, which is elevated but a few feet above the height of spring tides. The streets extend east and west between the two rivers; and others intersect them nearly at right angles from north to south. From its open exposure to the ocean it is subject to storms and inundations, which affect the security of its harbour. The city has also suffered much by fires: the last, in 1796, destroyed upwards of 500 houses, and occasioned 300,000
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 sterling damage.
</p>
<p>
The number of dwelling-houses, public buildings, and warehouses, &amp;c. at present in Charleston, is estimated at 3,500. With the exception of Meeting-street, Broad-street, and the Bay, the streets are in general narrow and confined. They are all unpaved; and in blowing weather whirlwinds of dust and sand fill the houses, and blind the eyes of the people. The foot paths are all constructed of bricks; but a few years ago not even this convenience existed. It is said that objections have been made to the paving of Charleston, under an impression that it would render the streets hotter: but this must surely be an erroneous idea; for a sandy soil imbibes the heat much quicker, and retains it longer, than a pavement of stone. Yet even if that were not the case, still the deleterious
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effect which the sand, exposed to the action of violent winds, must necessarily have upon the eyes and lungs of the inhabitants, would more than counterbalance the increase of heat that it is 
<hi rend="italics">
supposed
</hi>
 would accrue from paving the streets. I should, however, rather suspect that it is the expense alone which is objectionable; since the paving of the streets in Philadelphia has rendered that city both healthy and cool, and its salutary effects are obvious to the inhabitants. The drains in Charleston are also too small to carry off the filth and putrid matter which collect from all parts of the town: these, and the numerous swamps and stagnant pieces of water, mud, &amp;c. in the neighbourhood, no doubt tend considerably to the unhealthiness of the place.
</p>
<p>
The houses in the streets near the water side, including that part of the town between Meeting-street and the street called East Bay, are lofty and closely built. The bricks are of a peculiar nature, being of a porous texture, and capable of resisting the weather better than the firm, close, red brick of the northern states. They are made in Carolina, and are of a dark-brown colour, which gives the buildings a gloomy appearance. The roofs are tiled or slated. In this part of the town the principal shopkeepers and merchants have their stores, warehouses, and counting-houses. Houses here bear a very high rent: those in Broad and Church-streets
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for shops, let for upwards of 300
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 per annum; those along the Bay with warehouses let for 700
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 and more, according to the size and situation of the buildings. The shipping, as at New York, lie along the wharfs, or in small docks and slips along the town. The wharfs are built of a peculiar sort of wood, called the palmetto or cabbage. tree, the trunk of which is of a spongy, porous substance, and has the quality of being more durable in water, or under ground, than when exposed to the air. This renders it particularly excellent for the construction of wharfs, piers, &amp;c. The embargo had reached Charleston about a fortnight before I arrived; I had not, therefore, an opportunity of judging of its trade from appearances, as every thing was dull and flat, and all business except the coasting trade completely at a stand.
</p>
<p>
The houses in Meeting-street and the back parts of the town are many of them handsomely built; some of brick, others of wood. They are in general lofty and extensive, and are separated from each other by small gardens or yards, in which the kitchens and out-offices are built. Almost every house is furnished with balconies and verandas, some of which occupy the whole side of the building from top to bottom, having a gallery for each floor. They are sometimes shaded with Venetian blinds, and afford the inhabitants a pleasant cool retreat from the scorching beams of the
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sun. Most of the modern houses are built with much taste and elegance; but the chief aim seems to be, to make them as cool as possible. The town is also crowded with wooden buildings of a very inferior description.
</p>
<p>
Three of the public buildings, and the episcopal church of St. Michael, are situated at the four corners formed by the intersection of Broad and Meeting-streets, the two principal avenues in Charleston. St. Michael&apos;s is a large substantial church, with a lofty steeple and spire. It is built of brick cased with plaster. At present it is not in the best state of repair, yet it is no bad ornament to the town. The Branch Bank of the United States occupies one of the other corners. This is a substantial, and, compared with others in the town, a handsome building; but from the injudicious intermixture of brick, stone and marble, it has a motley appearance. The body is of red brick; the corners, sides, and front are ornamented and interspersed with stone; pillars of marble adorn the entrance, and a facing of the same covers the front of the ground story. The expense of this building, I understand, was enormous. Another corner of the street is occupied by the gaol, with a court-yard and armoury. This building is no great ornament to the place; but its situation, being nearly centrical in the city, is well adapted to further the regulations of the police. A guard
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of about fifty men is maintained by the city, and assembles every evening at the gaol, where it is ready to act in case of disturbance. The men are chiefly foreigners. The negro slaves and servants are not allowed to be out after the beating of the drum at eight o&apos;clock; otherwise they are taken up by the guard when going its rounds, and confined in the gaol. The master or mistress must pay a dollar before they can be liberated, else the offender receives a flogging at the sugar-house.
</p>
<p>
The fourth corner is occupied by a large substantial building of brick cased with plaster. The ground floor is appropriated to the courts of law; above that are most of the public offices, and the upper story contains the Charleston Library and Museum. The lower parts of the building are much out of repair, but the upper apartments are kept in good order. During my stay, I was allowed free access to the library, having been introduced by a friend to Mr. Davidson the librarian. It was open from nine in the morning till two in the afternoon, and I spent many an hour in it very agreeably. The library contains about 4,000 volumes, well selected and arranged. They are mostly modern publications.
</p>
<p>
The library contains Boydell&apos;s elegant edition of Shakspeare, and the large prints are framed, and hung up round the room. The portraits of the king and queen, belonging to that edition, are
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placed on either side the door-way leading to the inner room. I was not surprised at the obscurity of their situation, but was astonished to find them exhibited at all; and it is said that some opposition was made to their being put up. There is a large painting, executed by a Mr. White, of Charleston, exhibited in the library, and it is considered a very favourable effort for a young artist. The subject is the murder of Prince Arthur. The countenances of the ruffians are scarcely harsh enough, and their figures are not well proportioned. It is, however, a more successful specimen than could possibly be expected in a place where the arts meet with no encouragement, and where genius must resort to agriculture or commerce, to law or physic, if it wishes 
<hi rend="italics">
to avoid starvation!
</hi>
 Some new casts from the Apollo Belvidere, Venus de Medicis, Venus rising from the sea, &amp;c. were deposited in the library to be exhibited for a short time. They were the property of Mr. Middleton, and had lately arrived from Paris. The library also contains a few natural curiosities, such as fossils, minerals, mammoth bones, snakes, armadilloes, poisonous insects in spirits, &amp;c. and two remarkable deer&apos;s horns which were found locked in each other, so as to render it impossible to separate them without breaking. It is supposed that the two animals had been fighting, and had forcibly locked their horns together in the onset, and
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being unable to extricate themselves, they both perished. A Museum has been lately established by a gentleman, who occupies a room adjoining the library. His collection at present consists chiefly of birds; and I doubt whether the liberality of the inhabitants will enable him to increase it.
</p>
<p>
A tree called the 
<hi rend="italics">
Pride of India
</hi>
 (Melia azedarach) is planted in rows along the foot-paths of the streets in Charleston. It does not grow very high, but its umbrageous leaves and branches afford the inhabitants an excellent shelter from the sun. It has the advantage also of not engendering insects, none of which can live upon it, in consequence of its poisonous qualities. The large clusters of flowers in blossom resemble the lilac; these are succeeded by bunches of yellow berries, each about the size of a small cherry, and like it containing one stone. It is a deciduous tree; but the berries remain on it all the winter, and drop off the following spring.
</p>
<p>
Notwithstanding the pernicious qualities of this tree, I have seen the cows and swine eat the berries, which often lie upon the ground in large quantities. It is said that cattle, and even birds, are so fond of the fruit, that they frequently extend their bodies by excessive eating, and fall down intoxicated; but I have never heard that they have been poisoned in consequence. Yet I was told by a
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
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gentleman at Savannah, that a friend of his had ascertained its noxious qualities, by steeping a quantity of the leaves in water, with which he watered the plants in his garden that were infested with caterpillars and other vermin, and it killed every one of them. This satisfactorily accounts for the reason why no insect can dwell upon this tree: yet it is singular that the berries and leaves (for it is asserted that cattle eat both, though I have only seen them eat the former,) should not affect those animals and birds which partake so greedily of them; while the mere sprinkling of a decoction of the leaves upon insects will immediately destroy them. The powerful odour which is emitted from these trees, where they are planted numerously, is often sickly and unpleasant; at a distance it is agreeable, but faint. I really think they cannot be advantageous in a populous city. The copious perspiration arising from their leaves, which have been proved to possess a poisonous quality to insects, must inevitably affect the surrounding atmosphere, and, in conjunction with the putrid exhalations from marshes, swamps, filthy bogs, drains, and sewers, in and about the town, cannot fail to accumulate those gross putrescent fluids which cause a variety of irregular, nervous, bilious, remitting, and intermitting fevers. These no doubt ultimately engender that dreadful scourge the 
<hi rend="italics">
typhus icterodes
</hi>
, or yellow fever, which is peculiar
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to Charleston, and is not known to have originated in the interior.
</p>
<p>
It is said that a decoction of the roots of the Pride of India is an excellent anthelmintic, and is used with much success in worm cases. This however will prove nothing against its deleterious qualities in other respects; for it is well known that we make use of a great number of poisonous herbs, and minerals, in medicine. Professor Thunberg, in his Travels to Japan, says, the fruit of this tree was there used like the seeds of the 
<hi rend="italics">
Rhus succedanea
</hi>
, for making an expressed oil, which oil grew hard like tallow, and was used for candles. It would be an object worthy of inquiry for the medical gentlemen of Charleston, to ascertain, if possible, whether this tree is beneficial or injurious to the health of the inhabitants. The very advantage for which it is preferred above other trees, appears to me a strong objection against it; for, if it causes the death of those insects which approach it, I do not see how it can be otherwise than hurtful to the human frame constantly imbibing, under a burning sun, the faint and sickly vapours which arise from its wide-spreading foliage.
</p>
<p>
It is surprising that the inhabitants of Charleston, after what they have suffered from fevers, should allow so many stagnant pieces of water, and filthy bogs, to remain in different parts of
<lb>
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<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0142">
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the town and neighbourhood, under the very windows of the dwelling-houses. Surely they might fill them up, and prevent such nuisances from affecting the health of the people, as they cannot fail to do in their present state. The salt marshes and swamps around the town, which are situate so low as to be overflowed at high water, or spring tides, cannot be avoided, though they emit a very disagreeable effluvium at night; yet the other nuisances which I have mentioned might be easily removed.
</p>
<p>
Another very extraordinary, indolent, or parsimonious neglect of their own health and comfort is, the filthy and brutal practice of dragging dying horses, or the carcases of dead ones, to a field in the outskirts of the town, near the high road, and leaving them to be devoured by a crowd of ravenous dogs and turkey buzzards. The latter are large black birds resembling a turkey both in size and appearance; but from their carnivorous nature they have a most offensive smell. They hover over Charleston in great numbers, and are useful in destroying the putrid substances which lie in different parts of the city: for this reason they are not allowed to be killed. The encouragement of these carrion birds, however useful they may be, is extremely improper; for the people, instead of burying putrid substances, or throwing them into the river, are thus induced to leave
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
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them upon dunghills, exposed to the action of a powerful sun in the hottest seasons, to be destroyed by those birds. The latter, though extremely quick in devouring their dainty morsels, yet do not demolish them before the air is impregnated with the most noxious effluvia, arising from the putrid carcases of dead dogs, cats, horses, &amp;c. I have frequently seen half a dozen dogs and above a hundred turkey buzzards barking and hissing in fierce contention for the 
<hi rend="italics">
entrails, eyes
</hi>
, and other 
<hi rend="italics">
delicate morceaux
</hi>
 of a poor unfortunate horse, whose carcase would perhaps lie so near the side of the road, that, unless passengers were to windward, they ran no little risk from the infectious vapours that assailed their olfactory nerves. A part of the common at the back of the town is a perfect 
<hi rend="italics">
Golgotha;
</hi>
 where piles of horses&apos; 
<hi rend="italics">
bones
</hi>
 serve the negro-washerwomen to place their tubs on.
</p>
<p>
Such neglect on the part of the municipal officers, respecting these nuisances, would be unpardonable in any populous town; but how culpable must it be in a large city, like Charleston, whose local situation is unavoidably unwholesome! Every year increases the fatal experience of its inhabitants; and yet they neglect the only remedies which are acknowledged to be effectual, viz. 
<hi rend="italics">
a clean town
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
a pure air.
</hi>
 These might be obtained, if not wholly, at least in part, by 
<hi rend="italics">
paving
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0144">
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</controlpgno>
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134
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the streets; cleansing and enlarging the common sewers; filling up bogs, ditches, and pools of stagnant filth, with earth; cutting down the poisonous trees
</hi>
 which line the streets, and 
<hi rend="italics">
planting others
</hi>
 possessed of more 
<hi rend="italics">
wholesome properties; draining the useless marshes
</hi>
 in the neighbourhood, and confining the tide 
<hi rend="italics">
within certain bounds;
</hi>
 adopting 
<hi rend="italics">
useful regulations
</hi>
 for the prevention of disease, and maintaining the streets and habitations in a 
<hi rend="italics">
constant state of cleanness.
</hi>
 The inhabitants are rich enough to carry into execution these improvements, nor would their time and money be spent in vain; for, as the town increased in 
<hi rend="italics">
healthiness
</hi>
, so it would increase in 
<hi rend="italics">
population, wealth
</hi>
, and 
<hi rend="italics">
splendour
</hi>
, and rival, in trade and commerce, the richest cities of the north.
</p>
<p>
The principal public buildings, besides those which I have already enumerated, are the 
<hi rend="italics">
exchange
</hi>
, a large respectable building situated in the East Bay, opposite Broad street; 
<hi rend="italics">
a poor-house
</hi>
; a 
<hi rend="italics">
college
</hi>
, or rather grammar-school; a 
<hi rend="italics">
theatre;
</hi>
 and an 
<hi rend="italics">
orphan-house.
</hi>
 This latter building is worthy of the city of Charleston. It is built at the back of the town, on the site of an old fortification, which, in the American war, proved the chief defence of the town when besieged by Sir Henry Clinton. The house is an extensive and commodious building of brick, and was erected in 1792. The establishment resembles our asylum
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
for female orphans, except that it is not confined to girls only. It contains about 150 children of both sexes, and the annual expense for provision, clothing, firewood, &amp;c. is about 14,000 dollars, which is defrayed by the legislature of the State of South Carolina. Since its institution, upwards of 1,700 boys and girls have been received into the house. The boys are supported and educated to the age of fourteen, and are taught reading, writing, and arithmetic: the girls are supported and educated until twelve years of age, and are taught the same, besides sewing and spinning. They are then bound out to some respectable citizen for a term of service, and distributed into nine classes; one of which is assigned to each commissioner of the orphan-house, who visits them occasionally, and sees that proper attention is paid to them by the persons to whom they are indented. The girls of this institution spin and card as much cotton (which is given to the institution by charitable persons) as supplies both the boys and girls with summer clothes. On every Sunday morning a suitable discourse is read to the children, by one of the commissioners in rotation, at which time they repeat their catechism; and in the afternoon of that day divine service is performed by some one of the ministers of the gospel from the city or parts adjacent, in a chapel erected adjoining the orphan-house, which is also
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
open to the inhabitants. As there is no established form of worship in the United States, the episcopal, presbyterian, and independent ministers of Charleston perform service alternately, in the form of their respective persuasions. It was intended to have appointed a regular minister; but there was such a difference of opinion as to what sect he should be chosen from, that the subject was dropped. Baptists and Methodists, &amp;c. are, I believe, excluded from performing service in the orphan-house chapel. I attended one Sunday, and heard Dr. Buist, the presbyterian minister. The chapel is small, and was crowded with people: it put me in mind of the Asylum, or Magdalen, in every thing, 
<hi rend="italics">
except paying for admittance
</hi>
, which is 
<hi rend="italics">
dispensed with
</hi>
 at Charleston.
</p>
<p>
The 
<hi rend="italics">
theatre
</hi>
 is a plain brick building, situated at the top of Broad-street. It is about the size of our Circus or Surrey theatre, but not so handsomely fitted up. The establishment seems to be at present upon a very indifferent footing, particularly since the embargo, which in the course of a month reduced the performers to 
<hi rend="italics">
half-pay.
</hi>
 The present manager is a Mr. Placide, who formerly exhibited his nimble capers at Sadler&apos;s Wells. He married one of the daughters of Mrs. Wrighten, originally a favourite singer at Vauxhall. She went to America, with many others of our theatrical heroes and heroines, and, like several of them, found an
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0147">
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
untimely grave at Charleston. Mr. Hatton of the Haymarket theatre was engaged by the Charleston manager, and arrived in that city early in 1807. In the course of the summer he sang at the Vauxhall gardens, and in a few weeks fell a victim to the yellow fever. Mrs. Hatton had a benefit afterwards at the theatre, and returned home the following spring. Among the female performers Mrs. Woodham is considered in every respect as the best. She possesses youth, beauty, and talents, attractions which never fail to captivate an audience, and consequently she is a great favourite with the Charlestonians. Her husband died while I was in Charleston: he was a performer in the orchestra, but had originally made his appearance on the stage. Mr. Sully is a most excellent comic actor, and trampoline performer. A young gentleman of considerable property, and respectable family, is married to one of his sisters, who was also a performer on the stage.
</p>
<p>
Mr. Cooper generally performs at the Charleston theatre every summer, and never fails to draw crowded houses even in the most sultry weather. He dashes about in a curricle; and after remaining about a fortnight in the city, he returns to the northward with replenished pockets, if they are not previously emptied by extravagance. A good benefit is reckoned to produce about eight hundred dollars. One side of the theatre is in the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0148">
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
rules of the gaol; which is a very convenient circumstance for the ladies of easy virtue and others who are confined in 
<hi rend="italics">
durance vile.
</hi>
 I expected to find the Charleston stage well supplied with 
<hi rend="italics">
sooly negroes
</hi>
, who would have performed the 
<hi rend="italics">
African
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
Savage
</hi>
 characters, in the dramatic pieces, to the life; instead of which the delusion was even worse than on our own stage; for so far from employing 
<hi rend="italics">
real negroes
</hi>
, the performers would not even condescend to 
<hi rend="italics">
blacken
</hi>
 their faces, or dress in any manner resembling an African. This I afterwards learnt was occasioned by motives of 
<hi rend="italics">
policy
</hi>
, lest the negroes in Charleston should conceive, from being represented on the stage, and having their colour, dress, manners, and customs imitated by the white people, that they were very important personages; and might take improper liberties in consequence of it. For this reason, also, Othello and other plays where a black man is the hero of the piece are not allowed to be performed; nor are any of the negroes or people of colour permitted to visit the theatre. During my stay in Charleston the &ldquo;Travellers&rdquo; was performed for Mrs. Placide&apos;s benefit; the last act was converted wholly into an 
<hi rend="italics">
American scene
</hi>
, and the allusions and claptraps transferred from an 
<hi rend="italics">
English Admiral
</hi>
 to an 
<hi rend="italics">
American Commodore.
</hi>
 In this manner most of our dramatic pieces are obliged to be pruned of all their luxuriant compliments to
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0149">
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<hi rend="italics">
John Bull
</hi>
, before they can be rendered palatable to American republicans. Some few, however, inadvertently escape the pruning-knife of the manager; and I was not a little amused sometimes to hear the praises of my country warmly applauded in the theatre, while whole coffee-houses of politicians would be up in arms at the bare mention of its name.
</p>
<p>
The garden dignified by the name of Vauxhall is also under the direction of Mr. Placide. It is situated in Broad-street, a short distance from the theatre, surrounded by a brick wall, but possesses no decoration worthy of notice. It is not to be compared even with the common tea-gardens in the vicinity of London. There are some warm and cold baths on one-side for the accommodation of the inhabitants. In the summer, vocal and instrumental concerts are performed here, and some of the singers from the theatre are engaged for the season. The situation and climate of Charleston are, however, by no means adapted for entertainments 
<hi rend="italics">
al fresco.
</hi>
 The heavy dews and vapours which arise from the swamps and marshes in its neighbourhood, after a hot day, are highly injurious to the constitution, particularly while it is inflamed by the wine and spirituous liquors which are drunk in the garden. It is, also, the period of the sickly season when the garden is open for public amusement, and the death of many performers
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0150">
0150
</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
and visitors may be ascribed to the entertainments given at that place.
</p>
<p>
There are four or five hotels and coffee-houses in Charleston; but, except the Planters&apos; hotel in Meeting-street, there is not one superior to an English public-house. The accommodations at the Planters&apos; hotel are respectable, and the price about twelve dollars a-week. There are several private boarding-houses, from seven to fourteen dollars per week, according to their respectability. A curious anecdote is related of a lady who keeps the best boarding-house in the city. Soon after she became a widow, an old Scotch gentleman, a merchant of Charleston, paid his addresses to her, and solicited her hand in marriage. The courtship proceeded for a decent length of time, in order that it might not be said she wished to marry before her first &ldquo;dear man&rdquo; was cold in his grave. She then very willingly consented to throw off her weeds, and put on the bridal dress. But whether the old gentleman repented of his hasty love, or had some private reason for declining the marriage, I know not: he, however, put off the nuptial ceremony from time to time until his fair inamorata became impatient, and demanded the fulfilment of his promise, which it seems the old gentleman had unluckily given. He was now under the necessity of coming to an 
<hi rend="italics">
eclaircissement
</hi>
, and positively refused to marry her, giving
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0151">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
141
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
as a reason that he understood she was rather 
<hi rend="italics">
too fond of the bottle.
</hi>
 This false and scandalous accusation highly incensed the lady; and finding that he was going to reside in England, she disposed of her house and property, and followed him to London, where she commenced an action against him for breach of promise, and for defamation. The damages were laid at several thousand pounds, and eminent counsel were retained for the cause. The old gentleman finding himself so closely pressed, and likely to be a great loser by his unfortunate courtship, would have willingly married her rather than have to pay such enormous damages. This would very likely have taken place, for the lady herself was by no means hard-hearted, and might perhaps have taken the old spark to her bed, had not a keen relation of his, who probably was looking forward to a snug little legacy, said to him: &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Why, mon, would you disgrace the blood of the M&apos;Cl&mdash;s?
</hi>
&rdquo; and offered to settle the dispute with the spirited widow. Matters were accordingly adjusted in an amicable manner: the lady withdrew her action, and the old gentleman paid her 700
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 and all expenses. She afterwards returned to Charleston, and opened a very handsome boarding-house, which is resorted to by all the fashionable strangers who arrive in the city. The old gentleman has visited Charleston
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0152">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
several times since to recover his outstanding debts and property, and I dare say never passes her house without a sigh for the loss of both wife and cash.
</p>
<p>
Charleston contains a handsome and commodious market-place, extending from Meeting-street to the water-side, which is as well supplied with provisions as the country will permit. Compared, however, with the markets of the northern towns, the supply is very inferior both in quality and quantity. The beef, mutton, veal, and pork, of South Carolina are seldom met with in perfection; and the hot weather renders it impossible to keep the meat many hours after it is killed. Large supplies of corned beef and pork are brought from the northern states. Though the rivers abound with a great variety of fish, yet very few are brought to market. Oysters, however, are abundant, and are cried about the streets by the negroes. They are generally shelled, put into small pails, which the negroes carry on their heads, and sold by the measure: the price is about 8
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per quart. Vegetables have been cultivated of late years with great success, and there is a tolerable supply in the market. The long potatoe is a great favourite with the Carolinians. There are two kinds, which differ in nothing but the colour. When boiled, they eat sweet, and mealy, resembling very much a boiled
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0153">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
chesnut. Apples, pears, and other fruit are very scarce, being only brought occasionally from the northern states. In summer Charleston is tolerably well supplied with the fruits peculiar to southern climates; and large quantities of pine apples, &amp;c. are brought from the West Indies. Wild ducks, geese, turkeys, and other fowl, are brought to market by the country people, though not in very great abundance.
</p>
<p>
The expense of living at Charleston may be estimated from the following table of commodities, the prices of which are in sterling money. Bread about 3
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per lb., butter 7
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, cheese 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, beef 5
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, mutton 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, veal 8
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, oysters 8
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per quart, Hyson tea 6
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per lb., coffee 1
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, Havannah sugar 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, Louisiana sugar 6&frac12;
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, loaf sugar 1
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
, brandy 7
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per gallon, Jamaica rum 7
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
, New England rum 3
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, Hollands 7
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
, Malaga wine 5
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 10
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, Claret 12
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per dozen, spermaceti oil 5
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 3
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per gallon, lamp oil 3
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
, Florence oil 3
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 per pint. Bottled porter, from London, 2
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 3
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per bottle. House rent from 30
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 to 700
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 per annum, boarding at taverns and private houses from a guinea and a half to three guineas per week, washing 3
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
 per dozen pieces, a coat from 5
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 10
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 to 8
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
, other apparel in proportion; hair-cutting 3
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 6
<hi rend="italics">
d.
</hi>
, hire of a horse for a couple of hours 5
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
, for the afternoon 10
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
, hire of a gig
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0154">
0154
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
144
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
15
<hi rend="italics">
s.
</hi>
 Though liquor and many other articles are reasonable when purchased in any quantity, yet they are retailed at the taverns and small spirits-shops at an exorbitant rate. Hence a glass of brandy or rum and water is never sold for less than half a dollar; and every thing else in proportion.
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0155">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXI.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Population of Charleston&mdash;Society&mdash;The Planters&mdash;Extravagance and Dissipation&mdash;Money Lenders&mdash;Long Credit&mdash;Charleston Races&mdash;Jockey Club&mdash;Race Course&mdash;Balls and Concerts&mdash;Amusements of the People&mdash;Rifle Shooting&mdash;Duelling&mdash;Sullivan&apos;s Island&mdash;Outrages at Charleston&mdash;Riots among the Sailors&mdash;Consequences of the Embargo&mdash;American Seamen enter the British Service.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
The
</hi>
 present population of Charleston is reckoned about 28,000: of this number, not more than 7,000 are whites, the rest are negroes and people of colour, the majority of whom are slaves. The following statement will exhibit the progressive increase of population in the State of South Carolina since its settlement in 1670.
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
L
</p>
<table entity="p0155">
<tabletext>
<cell>
Years.
</cell>
<cell>
White People.
</cell>
<cell>
Blacks &amp; Mulattos.
</cell>
<cell>
Total.
</cell>
<cell>
1670
</cell>
<cell>
A small colony sent over under Governor Sayle
</cell>
<cell>
1700
</cell>
<cell>
5,500
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
5,500
</cell>
<cell>
1721
</cell>
<cell>
14,000
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
14,000
</cell>
<cell>
1723
</cell>
<cell>
14,000
</cell>
<cell>
18,000
</cell>
<cell>
32,000
</cell>
<cell>
1734
</cell>
<cell>
7,333
</cell>
<cell>
22,000
</cell>
<cell>
29,333
</cell>
<cell>
1765
</cell>
<cell>
40,000
</cell>
<cell>
90,000
</cell>
<cell>
130,000
</cell>
<cell>
1792
</cell>
<cell>
140,178
</cell>
<cell>
108,895
</cell>
<cell>
249,073
</cell>
<cell>
1800
</cell>
<cell>
196,255
</cell>
<cell>
149,336
</cell>
<cell>
345,591
</cell>
<cell>
1808
</cell>
<cell>
250,000
</cell>
<cell>
200,000
</cell>
<cell>
450,000
</cell>
</tabletext>
</table>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0156">
0156
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
146
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
Charleston has been described as the seat of hospitality, elegance, and gaiety. Whatever it may boast of the former, it is certain there was very little of the latter on my arrival in that city, though it was the season for amusements. But the fatal fever which had prevailed the preceding autumn, and carried off great numbers of the people, added to the general stagnation of trade occasioned by the embargo, seemed to have paralysed the energies and damped the spirits of the inhabitants, and prevented them from partaking of those entertainments and diversions to which they were accustomed at that season of the year.
</p>
<p>
Genteel society in Charleston is confined to the planters, principal merchants, public officers, divines, lawyers, and physicians.
</p>
<p>
The planters are generally considered as the wealthiest people in the state. This may be true with respect to their landed property and slaves: but they are not the most moneyed people; for, except upon their annual crops of rice and cotton, which produce various incomes from 6,000 to 50,000 dollars, they seldom can command a dollar in cash, and are besides continually in debt. The long credit which merchants and traders throughout Charleston are obliged to give the planters and other people of property in the state, is the subject of universal complaint among the former; and whatever credit the Carolinians may deserve for
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0157">
0157
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
147
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
their &ldquo;unaffected hospitality, affability, ease of manners, and address,&rdquo; so flatteringly mentioned in every edition of Morse&apos;s Geography, yet the payment of their debts can never be reckoned among their virtues.
</p>
<p>
When they receive money in advance for their crops of cotton or rice, it is immediately squandered away in the luxuries of fashion, good eating and drinking, or an excursion to the northern states; where, after dashing about for a month or two with 
<hi rend="italics">
tandems, curricles, livery servants,
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
outriders
</hi>
, they frequently return home in the 
<hi rend="italics">
stage coach
</hi>
 with scarcely dollars enough in their pocket to pay their expenses on the road. If their creditors of ten or a dozen years standing become very clamorous, a small sum is perhaps paid them in part, unless the law interferes, and compels them to pay the whole debt and as much for costs. Thus the planter proceeds in his career of extravagance, which in the midst of riches renders him continually poor. With an estate worth 200,000 dollars he has seldom a dollar in his pocket but what is borrowed upon an anticipated crop: hence it may be truly said that he lives only from hand to mouth.
</p>
<p>
In the town of Charleston, where they for the most part have handsome houses, they live for the time being like princes: and those strangers who visit the city at that period, and have the means of
<lb>
L 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0158">
0158
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
148
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
being introduced at their houses, are sure to meet a hearty welcome. Every article that the market can supply is to be found at their festive board. The wine flows in abundance, and nothing affords them greater satisfaction than to see their guests 
<hi rend="italics">
drop gradually under the table
</hi>
 after dinner. Hospitality is indeed their characteristic as long as the cash lasts: but when that is gone they retire to their plantations. There they are obliged to dispense with the luxuries, and often with the comforts, which they enjoyed in town. Every thing is made subservient to the cultivation of cotton and rice for the next year&apos;s round of dissipation. With hundreds of slaves about them, and cattle of various kinds, they are often without butter, cheese, and even milk, for many weeks. Fodder is frequently so scarce, that the cows, horses, &amp;c. look half starved, and are driven into the pine barrows and woods to pick up a few mouthfuls of rank grass. The habitations of many of the planters are also in a dilapidated state, and destitute of the comforts and conveniences of domestic life. As to their negro-huts, they frequently defy all description.
</p>
<p>
This mode of living among the planters, of which the brilliant side only is exposed to public view, is followed more or less by most of the gentry in Charleston, and has led strangers to give them the character of a free, affable, and generous
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people. Others, however, who have had better opportunities of judging of their real character, charge them with ostentation, and a haughty supercilious behaviour. These opposite qualities, no doubt, attach individually to many of the inhabitants, and most perhaps to the planters, who, it is natural to suppose, consider themselves in a more elevated and independent situation than the merchants who dispose of their produce, or the traders who furnish them with the necessaries of life. Hence they may be somewhat tinctured with that pride and haughtiness with which they are charged. At the same time their free and extravagant style of living, their open and friendly reception of strangers and visitors at their table, have no doubt won the hearts of those who have partaken of their good cheer, and established that excellent character which is said to be predominant among them.
</p>
<p>
Unlike the farmer and merchant of the northern states, who are 
<hi rend="italics">
themselves
</hi>
 indefatigably employed from morning to night, the Carolinian lolls at his ease under the shady piazza before his house, 
<hi rend="italics">
smoking segars
</hi>
 and drinking 
<hi rend="italics">
sangoree;
</hi>
 while his numerous slaves and overseers are cultivating a rice swamp or cotton field with the sweat of their brow, the produce of which is to furnish their luxurious master with the means of figuring away for a few months in the city, or an excursion to the northward.
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
Property thus easily acquired is as readily squandered away; and the Carolinian, regarding only the present moment for the enjoyment of his pleasures, runs into extravagance and debt.
</p>
<p>
Where there are numerous borrowers, there will always be plenty of lenders; and many of the more shrewd and saving moneyed people of Charleston are ever ready to accommodate the rich, the gay, and the extravagant, with loans upon 
<hi rend="italics">
good
</hi>
 security. Even some of the divines in that city 
<hi rend="italics">
are not ashamed
</hi>
 to take an active part in money lending; and while they are preaching to their creditors the necessity of laying up a store in heaven, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt,
</hi>
&rdquo; they are busily employed in laying up for themselves a store of the good things 
<hi rend="italics">
of this world.
</hi>
 How seldom is it that precept and example are united in the same person!
</p>
<p>
The merchants, traders, and shopkeepers of Charleston are obliged to lay a profit, frequently of 150 or 200 per cent. and more, upon their goods, for the long credit which the gentry are accustomed to take. Where they meet with good payments, they seldom fail to realize an independent fortune; for they sell nothing under 50 per cent., even for ready money: but it often happens that, after they retire from business, they have a number of debts to collect in. I met with several Scotch gentlemen at Charleston and Savannah, who had
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
retired from business at those places, and resided in their native country, but were obliged to make frequent voyages to America to recover the remainder of their property. This is the case with most of those who have been in business in the towns of the southern states; but where one succeeds, twenty are ruined. Captain Turner, my fellow-passenger in the packet, told me that he had debts owing to him of twenty years standing, even by parents and their children, whose dancing had never been paid for by either generation.
</p>
<p>
Notwithstanding the vast sums of money lavished away by the planters and gentry of South Carolina, their equipages do not equal those of the northern states. They have certainly a greater number of slaves to attend them, but their coaches, carriages, and chaises, are mostly old and shabby. They have some excellent horses; but in general they are badly broke in, and will start and fly at almost every object they meet. Horse-racing is a favourite amusement with the Carolinians, though more discountenanced than formerly, many families having suffered greatly by the gambling bets made at the races. The Charleston races were held during my stay in that city. They commenced on Wednesday the 17th of February, and finished on the Saturday following. The 
<hi rend="italics">
first
</hi>
 day, seven horses ran for a purse of 600 dollars; the 
<hi rend="italics">
second
</hi>
 day, five for 400 dollars; the third
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
day, three for 300 dollars; and the last day, a handicap purse of about 500 dollars was run for by all the horses that were distanced the preceding days. The race-course is about a mile and half from the city, on a fine level piece of ground, a full mile in circumference. Four-mile heats are run for, by American-raised horses, and generally performed in eight minutes, though on the second day of the races this year one of the heats was performed in seven minutes.
</p>
<p>
The races are under the direction of a jockey-club, from whose fund the purses which are run for are prepared. The second day of the races was uncommonly hot for the month of February. The thermometer stood at 82&deg; in the shade, and the number of horses and vehicles of every description, passing to and from the race-ground, made the dust and sand fly about in clouds. The admittance to the race course was half a dollar for horses, and a dollar for carriages. There was not so large a concourse of people on the race-ground as I expected to see, and I was told that the races were very thinly attended. From the dullness of the times, the planters were short of cash, and many would not come into town. The purses were therefore poor, and few bets were made. But the preceding year, a purse of 1,000 dollars was run for, and two or three young ladies entered into the spirit of horse-racing with as
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0163">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
much eagerness as the men. They sent their own horses to run, and betted with each other to a considerable amount.
</p>
<p>
Several large booths were fitted up at one end of the race-ground, and handsome cold collations of meat, poultry, and salads, were laid out on long tables for the accommodation of those who chose to dine there after the races. The day I was there, there were only two four-mile heats, and they were over before two o&apos;clock. The gentry then returned to town, and spent the day in dinner parties, and the evening in balls and concerts. The middling and lower classes of the people remained on the ground, and diverted themselves with some hack races; after which they repaired to the booths, and finished the day in humble imitation of their superiors. A number of sailors enjoyed themselves with their girls, in the smaller booths; and the negroes, with their dingy misses, came in for a share of the fun. At night they all came reeling into town, well charged with wine, rum-punch, gin sling, and sangoree.
</p>
<p>
The period of the races, though short, was the only time that Charleston appeared to be enlivened during my residence there. There were no public entertainments, except occasional plays, and a concert once a fortnight; and they were so slightly attended, that the performers at the theatre were put on half-pay, and the concerts were with difficulty
<pageinfo>
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maintained. Private parties were also greatly abridged, and the town seemed to be enveloped in gloomy despondence. This was the natural effect of the stagnation of trade created by the embargo, which compelled the planters to sell their produce for less than one-half the usual price; and it was not always they could find purchasers, even on those conditions; as none, except a few speculating individuals from New-York and Boston, would lay out their money in cotton and rice, which frequently became a mere drug in the merchants&apos; stores.
</p>
<p>
Hunting, shooting, fishing, and riding, are more or less the diversions of the Carolinians throughout the state. They are generally excellent shots, and a good rifleman will be sure of a deer, or wild turkey, at 150 yards. A huntsman with a smooth-barrelled gun will kill a deer at his utmost speed at the distance of near 100 yards. In the lower country, deer-hunting is the favourite amusement of the country gentlemen. For this purpose they associate in hunting clubs once a fortnight or month, besides their own private sport. The bays and woods afford a great plenty of this game; and when the deer are roused by the bounds, they are either shot down immediately by the gentlemen who are stationed on either side the bays, or they meet their fate at the different stands by which the deer direct their course, and to which the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0165">
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
huntsmen had previously repaired. Double-barrelled guns are mostly used in these cases, loaded with buck shot, and sometimes with single ball; and so excellent is the skill of many persons accustomed to this mode of hunting, that a deer has been often killed by each barrel of the gun, as soon as they could be successively discharged. Sometimes the deer are seen in flocks of eight or ten in number; and as many as four or five have been killed in a single hunting of a few hours. The country gentlemen do not enter much into the sport of fowling, Carolinians generally preferring riding to walking; and when game of this kind is wanted for family use, they for the most part send out a servant to procure it.
</p>
<p>
In the upper part of the State, the young men are particularly expert at rifle-shooting; and articles instead of being put up at vendue are often shot for, with rifles, at a small price each shot, which is a more useful and honourable mode than the practice of raffling adopted in the lower country. This method of disposing of goods is worthy of imitation in England, and would soon render the people excellent marksmen. Although a riding-master is little known in Carolina, yet the people are generally good horsemen, and make their way through thick woods with surprising dispatch. This is effected by allowing boys at
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0166">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
156
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the age of seven or eight years to commence riding, either to school or elsewhere; and soon after they are allowed the use of a gun, from which they in a few years become expert huntsmen.
</p>
<p>
The Carolinians are all partial to riding, and even in Charleston few ladies venture to walk. They are seldom seen out of doors, except in their coach or chaise. This renders the streets of that city very gloomy to a stranger who has been used to the 
<hi rend="italics">
Bond-street
</hi>
 of London, the 
<hi rend="italics">
Rue St. Honor&eacute;
</hi>
 of Paris, or the 
<hi rend="italics">
Broadway
</hi>
 of New York, where so many lovely forms continually fleet before his eye. Many of the ladies of Charleston are, however, not inferior in beauty and accomplishments to the ladies of the Northern States, though they labour under the disadvantage of an unhealthy climate. If the younger part of society have failings different from others, they may be attributed to their unavoidable intercourse with the slaves, by whose milk they are frequently nourished, and in the midst of whom they are generally educated. Parents are often too indulgent, and will frequently suffer their children to tyrannize over the young slaves, one or two of whom are usually appropriated to the use of each of the planter&apos;s children, and become their property. Hence they are nurtured in the strongest prejudices against the blacks, whom they are
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0167">
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
taught to look upon as beings almost without a soul, and whom they sometimes, treat with unpardonable severity.
</p>
<p>
From having their early passions and propensities so much indulged, the young Carolinians are too apt to acquire a rash, fiery, and impetuous disposition, which renders them incapable of comprehending Shakspeare&apos;s admirable definition of 
<hi rend="italics">
honour:
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="blockindent">
&ldquo;Not to be captious, not unjustly fight;
<lb>
&ldquo;&apos;Tis to confess what&apos;s wrong, and do what&apos;s right.&rdquo;
</hi>
</p>
<p>
Privates quarrels frequently disgrace the public prints: challenges are sent; and if refused, the parties are posted as &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
prevaricating poltroons and cowards.
</hi>
&rdquo; A few months before I arrived, a duel took place between two young gentlemen of respectable families, which terminated in the death of both. There is, perhaps, no country in the world where duels are so frequent as in the United States. During my short stay of six months in that country, there were upwards of 
<hi rend="italics">
fourteen
</hi>
 fought which came to my knowledge; and 
<hi rend="italics">
not one
</hi>
 of them in which the parties were not either 
<hi rend="italics">
killed
</hi>
 or 
<hi rend="italics">
wounded.
</hi>
 Since my departure, I heard of a duel having been fought with 
<hi rend="italics">
rifles
</hi>
 at only 
<hi rend="italics">
seven
</hi>
 paces distance, in which two young men, whose families were of the highest respectability, were 
<hi rend="italics">
both killed
</hi>
 on the spot. Such acts of desperation would lead one to suspect that the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0168">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
158
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
Americans were a blood-thirsty people; for they might satisfy their false honour at a greater distance from each other, and with less determinate marks of revenge. Duels are frequent and disgraceful enough in England; but they are far exceeded in the United States, where young men are in the habit of 
<hi rend="italics">
training
</hi>
 themselves up as duel-lists. How much is it to be regretted that the admirable example of Marshal Turenne is not followed by those who conceive themselves injured! The man who fights a duel is a 
<hi rend="italics">
coward
</hi>
, compared with him who braves the 
<hi rend="italics">
false opinion
</hi>
 of the world.
</p>
<p>
The amusements in Charleston during the hot months of the year are very few. The Vauxhall garden is the only public place of recreation, and that by no means safe after a sultry day. For two or three months during the sickly season, the genteel people shut themselves up in their houses, or retire to Sullivan&apos;s Island, situate in the harbour about six miles below the city. On this island a settlement has been effected called 
<hi rend="italics">
Moultrieville
</hi>
, after Major-general William Moultrie, who from a fort on the island in 1776 frustrated the attempt of a British naval armament under the command of Sir Peter Parker. Its commencement was about the year 1791, when the legislature passed an act, permitting people to build there on half-acre lots; subject to the condition
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<controlpgno entity="p0169">
0169
</controlpgno>
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159
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of their being removed, whenever demanded, by the governor or commander-in-chief. Almost every part of the island, which is nearly three miles long, is now occupied, and contains upwards of two hundred dwelling-houses, besides kitchens and out offices. This place is little resorted to during the winter and spring; but in the summer and autumn numbers of people reside there, for pleasure or health; and packet boats are plying, at all hours, between it and Charleston. Along the hard beach of this island, its inhabitants enjoy the amusements of riding or walking; while the ocean incessantly breaks its waves at their feet, and vessels pass within two or three hundred yards of the shore.
</p>
<p>
There are a great number of Jews settled in Charleston; and they live principally in Kingstreet, where their shops are crowded together, and exhibit as motley a collection of clothing and wearing apparel as can be found in Houndsditch or Rag-fair. They are sufficiently numerous to have a synagogue; and one company of the volunteer militia is formed entirely of Jews. They are, as is the case in most countries, moneyed people: and on their sabbaths the young Jewesses walk out in fine flowing dresses that would better suit the stage or ball-room than the street.
</p>
<p>
I saw only one Quaker in Charleston, and he is as remarkable for the singular plainness of his
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
dress as the large property which he possesses. Of the traders and shopkeepers settled in Charleston, a great number are Scotch, who generally acquire considerable property, by close and persevering habits of industry; after which, they most commonly return to their native country. There are also several Irish traders, but their number is far inferior to the Scotch.
</p>
<p>
At the period when the Americans were so much exasperated against Great Britain, in consequence of the attack upon the Chesapeake frigate, the British subjects throughout the States were in an awkward predicament, and for some time were under the necessity of keeping within doors, until the fury of the populace was somewhat abated. In Charleston, the inhabitants committed great excesses; and it was not merely the lower order of people who were concerned in them, but many, otherwise respectable, house-keepers. All the American inhabitants wore pieces of crape round their arms, as mourning for the sailors killed in the action; and ducked under the pumps all who refused to comply with that mark of respect for their deceased countrymen. The Scotch people, however, held out firmly against their threats, and some were in consequence severely handled by the mob. The outrages went to such a length, that proscription lists were made out, and not only several Scotchmen, but many
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0171">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of the American federalists, who viewed the business more as an aggression on the part of the United States, than by England, were beset in their houses by the populace, and vengeance demanded upon their heads. The reign of terror commenced, and self-appointed committees were deputed to wait on suspected persons. One merchant and his son barricadoed themselves in their house, while the rest of the family were employed in making cartridges. The populace surrounded their dwelling; but the gentleman and his son declared that, if they attempted to force the doors, they would immediately fire upon them.
</p>
<p>
This violent ferment at length subsided: but the Scotchmen are of opinion, that if the Intendant of Charleston had not been a federalist, most of them would have been put to death. The conduct of one of them was, however, extremely reprehensible. He dressed a 
<hi rend="italics">
dog
</hi>
 and a 
<hi rend="italics">
goal
</hi>
 up in crape, to ridicule the people. They could not catch him for some time, as he kept within doors; but one morning about six o&apos;clock they knocked at his door, which being opened, they rushed in, dragged him into the street, and carried him to a pump, where they ducked him so unmercifully, that he took to. his bed, and died in the course of the following month, it being then the commencement of the sickly season.
</p>
<p>
While I remained in Charleston, there was considerable
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
M
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</pageinfo>
alarm on account of the depredations which were said to be committed by the sailors at night. There were upwards of one thousand in the city, who since the embargo had become very riotous, having no employ; and several were absolutely destitute of lodging and food, their landlords having turned them out after their money was gone. They paraded the streets several nights in large bodies, and the city guard was obliged to be strengthened. Some robberies were committed, and two or three negroes murdered, so that it became dangerous to be out at dark. The corporation at length published a proclamation, forbidding, under pain of imprisonment, any sailor to be out of his lodging-house after seven o&apos;clock: they also advertised, that any sailor who was destitute of employment might go on board the Hornet sloop, and gun-boats belonging to the United States, where they should receive provisions, and be at liberty to quit the vessel when they chose. Not above 
<hi rend="italics">
sixteen
</hi>
 accepted the offer, and several of them soon returned on shore again, in consequence of some smart 
<hi rend="italics">
floggings
</hi>
 which they met with on board the Hornet. In the course of a week or two, the English Consul advertising that British seamen might have a free passage home in the British ships that were going to Europe, upwards of four hundred availed themselves of the offer, and sailed for England.
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXII.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Servants at Charleston&mdash;Slaves&mdash;Slave Trade&mdash;Slave Merchants&mdash;The Bargain Buyer&mdash;Observations upon the Slave Trade&mdash;The Treatment of Africans&mdash;Refined Cruelty&mdash;People of Colour and Mulattoes&mdash;Negro Characteristics&mdash;Religious Fanaticism&mdash;Methodist Preachers pelted in their Pulpits&mdash;Manners of the Negroes&mdash;An Anecdote of a Negro and his Wife&mdash;Their intrepid Death&mdash;Religion&mdash;Service of the Episcopal Churches in the United States&mdash;Methodist Meetings&mdash;Marriages&mdash;Funerals&mdash;Novelty of an Undertaker&apos;s Profession in Charleston&mdash;Charitable Societies&mdash;Free-Masons.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
There
</hi>
 are no white servants in Charleston. Every kind of work is performed by the negroes and people of colour. Those who are unable to give 500 or 600 dollars for a slave, which is the usual price of a good one, generally hire them, by the month or year, of people who are in the habit of keeping a number of slaves for that purpose. Many persons obtain a handsome living by letting out their slaves for 6 to 10 dollars per month. They also send them out to sell oysters,
<lb>
M 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0174">
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</controlpgno>
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164
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
fruit, millinery, &amp;c.; or as carmen and porters. The slaves who are brought up to any trade or profession are let out as journeymen, and many of them are so extremely clever and expert, that they are considered worth two or three thousand dollars.
</p>
<p>
The slaves in Charleston, employed as domestic servants, or mechanics, are mostly those born in the state; the new negroes from Africa being generally purchased for the plantations in the country. The former have more vices than the latter; and where they are living under persons who have only hired them, they are often lazy and impertinent, and give their employers a great deal of trouble. They conceive they are labouring only for strangers, and are careless in what manner they perform their work. In consequence of the troubles in St. Domingo, a great number of negroes and people of colour have been brought to Charleston by their masters and mistresses. Most of them have been sold to the Americans, or received their freedom. The women are distinguished from the rest by their coloured handkerchiefs tastily tied about their heads, the smartness of their dress, and long flowing shawls, or muslin handkerchiefs thrown carelessly over their shoulders 
<hi rend="italics">
&agrave; la Fran&ccedil;oise.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
It appears by the estimate given in the preceding chapter, that the slaves, free negroes, and people of colour, are very numerous in South
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0175">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
165
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
Carolina, yet are not equal to the number of white inhabitants of the whole state. But it is only in the low swampy parts of the country that they are wanted, and there they far outnumber the population. In the city of Charleston, for instance, their number amounts to 21,000, and the whites only to 7,000. In the northern parts of the state very few slaves are to be found; the farmers cultivate the ground themselves, with the assistance of their own families; but towards the sea coast it would be impossible for the whites to cultivate the swamps and marshes, without the aid of negroes.
</p>
<p>
The importation of Africans into the United States ceased by law on the 1st of January 1808; and several vessels which arrived with slaves after that period were seized, and their cargoes condemned. For the four preceding years, however, the merchants had prepared for the abolition of the slave trade; and such large importations took place, that the market was completely glutted. The following are the numbers imported into Charleston up to the 1st January 1808:
<list type="simple">
<item><p>1804
<hsep>5,386
</p></item>
<item><p>1805
<hsep>6,790
</p></item>
<item><p>1806
<hsep>11,458
</p></item>
<item><p>1807
<hsep>15,676
</p></item>
<item><p><hsep>39,310
</p></item>
</list>
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0176">
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</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
When I arrived the sales for slaves were extremely dull, owing to the high price which the merchants demanded for them. The planters, who were pretty well stocked, were not very eager to purchase; and the merchants, knowing that a market would ultimately be found for them, were determined not to lower their demands: in consequence of which hundreds of these poor beings were obliged to be kept on board the ships, or in large buildings at Gadsden&apos;s wharf, for months together. The merchants, for their own interest I suppose, had them properly attended to, and supplied with a sufficiency of provisions; but their clothing was very scanty, and some unusually sharp weather during the winter carried off great numbers of them. Close confinement and improper food also created a variety of disorders; which, together with the dysentery and some cutaneous diseases to which the negroes are subject, considerably increased the mortality. Upwards of seven hundred died in less than three months, and carpenters were daily employed at the wharf in making shells for the dead bodies. A few years ago, when a similar mortality took place, the dead bodies of the negroes, to save expense, were thrown into the river, and even left to be devoured by the turkey buzzards; in consequence of which nobody would eat any fish, and it was upwards of three
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0177">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
months before the corporation put a stop to the practice.
</p>
<p>
These losses, instead of abating the price, served only to increase it; and many were put up at vendue, where, according to their age, size, and condition, they sold for from three to six hundred dollars each. The auctioneers live all in one street near the water-side, in East Bay. They have vendues twice a-week, and the place is then like Babel: crowds of people bidding for dead and live stock, among which negroes and people of colour are constantly seen; brokers praising the good qualities of their commodities, and knocking their down to the best bidder. One morning I had a hearty laugh at the expense of a woman who had purchased a female slave at one of these auctions. The brokers are obliged to state the reason for selling the negroes, or give a bill of sale warranting them sound. The girl in question had been lately imported; and, as the auctioneer declared, it was intended to have shipped her off with several others for New Orleans: but that in 
<hi rend="italics">
her condition
</hi>
 (pointing to a certain protuberance in front) it was thought most advisable to put her up at vendue, The poor girl appeared to be about sixteen, seemed very unwell, and had no other covering than a dirty blanket. She was placed upon a table by the side of the auctioneer; who frequently turned her round to the bidders, to show her make and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0178">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
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figure. He would also, at times, open her mouth and show her teeth, much in the same style as a jockey would exhibit the mouth of a horse for the inspection of his customers. Front the manner in which he described tier situation I really believed at first that she was in the 
<hi rend="italics">
family way
</hi>
, a condition which always enhances the value of a slave: but on looking more earnestly at the girl the protuberance seemed to be rather too high for such a state. One woman, however, who appeared very eager to purchase, outbid the rest, and gave 150 dollars for her, under the full persuasion that the girl was 
<hi rend="italics">
with child
</hi>
, and of course a great bargain at that price. The auctioneer also assured her, that she had been sold for less than half her real value. The girl got down from the table with much difficulty, and the woman went with her into the auction-room (for the sales are made in the street before the door). She was eager to examine the quality of the commodity which she had bought; when, to her infinite mortification, upon taking off the blanket she discovered that the girl instead of being with child had got the 
<hi rend="italics">
dropsy.
</hi>
 She immediately wanted the auctioneer to take her back: but he was too keen, and declared that it was a just and fair sale; for the truth of which he appealed to the by-standers. It was not his fault, he said, if the lady had been deceived by appearances; it was too often the case: but he declared that lie
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
had stated her real situation, which was, that she was not in a condition to be sent on a long voyage and he still maintained that that was the only defect she was sold for. &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
For any thing
</hi>
,&rdquo; says the auctioneer, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
that I know to the contrary the girl may be with child, but the lady is certainly the best judge.
</hi>
&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
All except the unfortunate purchaser laughed heartily at the trick. One advised her to send for Dr. De Bow immediately and have the girl tapped; another was of opinion that she had better send for a carpenter to make a coffin; and a third declared she was heartily glad the woman had been taken in, as she was always so fond of buying 
<hi rend="italics">
bargains;
</hi>
 and would be bound to say that she would not go to the expense of a dollar to save the girl&apos;s life.
</p>
<p>
I quitted this traffic in human flesh with, disgust; though I could not refrain from laughing at the archness of the auctioneer, and the credulity of the bargain-buyer. In most countries people are fond of purchasing what they call 
<hi rend="italics">
bargains
</hi>
, which, as Sterne says, is only the buying of a 
<hi rend="italics">
bad
</hi>
 commodity that you don&apos;t want, because you can get it 
<hi rend="italics">
cheaper
</hi>
 than a 
<hi rend="italics">
good one
</hi>
 when you do!
</p>
<p>
A great deal has been said for and against slavery; and, as Sir Roger de Coverly observes, &ldquo;it is a subject upon which much may be said on both sides.&rdquo; Those whose interests are affected by it
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
are of course its supporters; and those who see it only with a philanthropic eye are its natural opponents. In a political point of view we may now suppose that it is completely exploded by Great Britain and the United States. Whether the abolition of the slave-trade will continue, is at present doubtful; for large supplies of Africans seem to be absolutely necessary for certain parts of the possessions of both nations. Neither the sugar plantations of the West Indies, nor the rice swamps, tobacco and cotton plantations of Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, can be cultivated without them. The negro can, uncovered, stand the sun&apos;s meridian heat, and labour his appointed time, exposed to the continual steam which arises from low and swampy grounds, while a white man can barely support himself under the shade, surrounded by such a relaxing and unhealthy atmosphere. The negro can work for hours in mud and water, (which he is obliged to do in the cultivation of rice, in ditching and draining) without injury to himself, whilst to a white this labour would be almost instant death. In fact, the Africans are now become as necessary in those parts of the world as beasts of burthen are to Europeans. It is to be lamented that the slave-trade was ever introduced; for, had it not, the whites would have neglected the unhealthy spots which they now occupy, and have confined themselves
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0181">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
to places more congenial to their constitutions. How many millions of acres in the world far superior in every respect to those parts where Africans are indispensable, are still covered with immeasurable forests that have never yet echoed to the stroke of the woodman&apos;s axe!
</p>
<p>
It were indeed to be wished that the present stock of Africans would answer the purpose of the planters by their domestic population, instead of rendering fresh importations requisite. It is natural to suppose that the planters would find it their interest to promote the health and comfort of their negroes for that purpose; and in many instances it is so, but others have too often afforded proofs of a contrary disposition. The flagrant abuses which have been committed on the African slaves have ultimately led to the melioration of their condition, and at length to the total abolition of the trade. The negroes appear to be formed for servitude, and require the strict but merciful hand of a master, otherwise they are apt to take unwarrantable liberties. If treated well, they are faithful and affectionate; nor do I see how it can be the interest of the master to treat them otherwise: but a violent temper does not always study its own interest; and we have unfortunately had too many instances of white people disgracing themselves by barbarities that would sully the character of a New Zealand savage. Even
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
some of the ladies of Charleston, I am told, have been known to exercise the 
<hi rend="italics">
cowskin
</hi>
 with considerable dexterity upon the naked backs of their slaves. I never had an opportunity of seeing one of those delicate instruments of flagellation called 
<hi rend="italics">
cowskins;
</hi>
 but from what I have heard I imagine it is of the same nature as that used by the Turks when they 
<hi rend="italics">
bastinade
</hi>
 an offender; though it is there distinguished by a very different 
<hi rend="italics">
name.
</hi>
 One instance of refined cruelty I should have sincerely hoped, for the sake of humanity, had been false, or misrepresented, but I am sorry to say there is no reason to doubt its authenticity. A lady at Sullivan&apos;s Island is said to have assisted her husband in whipping their negro to such a degree that his back was completely raw: not thinking he had been sufficiently punished, they applied a pickle of 
<hi rend="italics">
pepper and salt
</hi>
 to his wounds, and the miserable wretch died a few hours after in the most excruciating tortures. What his offence was I know not, but nothing could justify such inhuman treatment. I do not mention this fact as a reflection upon the Carolinian females; on the contrary, they are in general extremely kind and tender to their slaves; nor are the men by any means remarkable for severity, but are rather distinguished for their careful and humane treatment of their negroes.
</p>
<p>
The penalty for killing a slave in South Carolina
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0183">
0183
</controlpgno>
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173
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
is, if in the heat of passion, 50
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
, and for premeditated murder 100
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 For the last offence the murderer is rendered incapable of holding or receiving the profits of any office, place, or emolument, civil or military, within the state. The negroes, if guilty of murder or rebellion, are 
<hi rend="italics">
burnt to death;
</hi>
 and within these three or four years two have suffered that horrid punishment. For common offences they are either flogged at home by their masters or mistresses, or sent to a place next the jail in Broad-street, called the 
<hi rend="italics">
Sugar House
</hi>
, where a man is employed to flog them at the rate of a shilling per dozen lashes. I was told that a lady once complained of the great expense she was at for flogging, and intended to 
<hi rend="italics">
contract
</hi>
 with the man to flog her slaves by the year!
</p>
<p>
The mulattoes, or people of colour, are very numerous in Charleston. Many of them are free, but a much greater proportion are slaves. They are said to be more insolent and debauched than the negroes; which is perhaps owing to the knowledge of their origin, and the liberties they conceive they are entitled to take. Many of the mulatto girls are handsome, and good figures. They are fond of dress, full of vanity, and generally dispense their favours very liberally to the whites. The negroes who are natives of Africa are often dull, stupid, and indolent. They are, however, in general more robust and capable of field labour than
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0184">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
those born in Carolina; and have less deceit and libertinism in their character. The negroes born in Carolina are much tinctured with European vices, particularly if they live in Charleston; but they make the best servants, being well acquainted from their childhood with household duties, and the business of a plantation or farm. They have also a high opinion of themselves, and look with contempt upon the new Africans. I heard one of them observe, on seeing a 
<hi rend="italics">
drove
</hi>
 of newly-imported negroes going out of Charleston to a plantation in the country&mdash;&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Ah! dey be poor devils, me fetch ten of dem, if massa swap me.
</hi>
&rdquo; Free blacks are also a step above those who are in bondage, and nothing offends them more than to call them 
<hi rend="italics">
negroes.
</hi>
 The steward of the Calliope, who was one of these, was highly offended with Captain Turner, who out of joke would frequently call him a damned 
<hi rend="italics">
negro.
</hi>
 &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Negur, massa!
</hi>
&rdquo; says the steward, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
me be no negur&mdash;don&apos;t call me negur, massa.
</hi>
&rdquo; An old negro woman is called 
<hi rend="italics">
momma
</hi>
, which is a broad pronunciation of 
<hi rend="italics">
mama;
</hi>
 and a girl, 
<hi rend="italics">
missy.
</hi>
 I once happened to call a young negro wench 
<hi rend="italics">
momma.&mdash;
</hi>
 &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
me be no momma
</hi>
,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
me had no children yet.
</hi>
&rdquo; The negroes are also called by a variety of names; and the catalogue of the heathen mythology of ancient heroes and demigods, of saints and martyrs, is ransacked for that purpose. Notwithstanding the vicious mode of fighting
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0185">
0185
</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
common among the whites in the southern states of America, I always observed that the negroes boxed each other fairly; and if any foul play happened to take place, the negro by-standers would immediately interpose.
</p>
<p>
The old negroes, both men and women, are very attentive to their religious duties; and pews in the churches and chapels of Charleston are appropriated to their use. The majority of the negroes are Methodists, whose mode of worship seems to be a favourite with most of the blacks throughout the States. Unlike the American Indians, who are caught by the paraphernalia and mysterious ceremonies of the Roman Catholic religion, the negroes receive with enthusiasm the pleasing doctrine of 
<hi rend="italics">
faith without works;
</hi>
 and if there is little religious ceremony in the service, its simplicity is amply compensated by the thundering anathemas of the preacher: this catches their attention, and in imitation of their more enlightened 
<hi rend="italics">
white brethren
</hi>
, they often fall down in 
<hi rend="italics">
divine ecstasies
</hi>
, crying, shouting, bawling, and beating their breats, until they are ready to faint. Much of this extravagance is now done away, at least in Charleston, since some of the most vehement of the Methodist preachers were obliged to decamp, lest the meeting-houses should be pulled down upon them. Several were pelted and dragged out of their pulpits by some young men of the
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0186">
0186
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
176
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
town in the very middle of their horrid denunciations, and the frantic gestures of their deluded congregation. These violences were winked at by the municipality, as it was found that the absurd doctrines broached by those fanatical preachers did much injury to the slaves. Calm, dispassionate religion, of whatever denomination it may be, has never been withheld from the negroes, but rather encouraged, and in general they are very orderly and devout in their demeanour on Sundays. The free negroes and people of colour are then dressed out in their best, and feel exalted as much above the slaves as the whites do above them. They pull off their hats, bow, scrape, and curtsey to each other, and the younger part seem to treat their elders with much respect and attention. The meeting-houses are crowded with all colours, and many of the slaves frequently sit on the steps outside the door.
</p>
<p>
Where the Africans are well treated longevity is no stranger to their race. Several have lived to 80, 90, and 100 years; and in 1805 a negro woman died in Pennsylvania at the age of 116. I shall close this notice of the negroes of South Carolina with a remarkable instance of inviolable affection and heroic courage, evinced in the conduct of a negro and his wife, who had been recently imported from Africa; and which took place while I was in Charleston. They had been separated and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0187">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
sold to two different persons in the city; the man to major R&mdash;, and the woman to Mrs. D&apos;A&mdash;. For a few months they resided in Charleston; and the major had often allowed the man to visit his wife, which in some measure reconciled them to their separation. But his master, wishing to employ him on his plantation in the country, gave orders for his being sent away. The negro no sooner learnt his destiny than he became desperate, and determined upon as bold a scheme as the mind of man could conceive, and one that might vie with the far-famed resolution of the Roman Arria. He obtained leave of his master, on the evening previous to his departure, to take a last farewell of his wife. I know not what passed at such an affecting interview; but it is supposed that he prevailed on her to die with him rather than be separated from each other, and obliged to pass their lives in miserable slavery; for the next morning they were both found dead, having strangled themselves with ropes. The hands of both were at liberty, so that there is no room to suppose that either had not consented to die. The Charleston papers represented this transaction in a very different light, being fearful of the consequences of such an example among the negroes; who, whatever their oppressors may say to the contrary, have proved in innumerable instances
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
N
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0188">
0188
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
178
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
that they are occasionally possessed of feelings as sensitive and acute as their white brethren.
</p>
<p>
Religious toleration is allowed in its fullest extent in South Carolina, as well as in every other state of the Union; and people of every sect and form of worship are admitted to a share of the government. Formerly the protestant church of England was the most predominant religion in the state; but at present the independents, presbyterians, and baptists are supposed to be the most numerous. A bishop was at the head of the episcopal church a few years ago, but since his decease the vacancy has not been filled up. A large circular building, called the Independent Meeting, has within these few years been built in Meeting-street. The mode of worship nearly resembles that of the Scotch church; and the chapel is frequented by many of the rich and respectable families of the city; several of whom have also pews in the episcopal churches. The clergyman whom I heard in that chapel delivered a most excellent discourse, partly extempore, and though it had somewhat of the evangelical turn of expression, it was delivered in mild, moderate, and elegant language. The congregation sang without the assistance of an organ; and their voices harmonized more agreeably than the baptists and methodists.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0189">
0189
</controlpgno>
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179
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
The service in the episcopal churches of the United States is the same as that of England, except in such parts as have been accommodated to the reigning government. Instead of His Majesty, the Royal Family, the Nobility, and Parliament; they pray for the President, the Senate, and House of Representatives of the United States. St. Athanasius&apos;s creed is omitted; and some slight alterations have been made in the text of the common prayer. The churches, chapels, and meetings of Charleston are, in general, well attended; and during divine service few people are seen in the streets. The young men, however, are fond of posting themselves near a church porch, before and after service, in order to admire the girls, who afford the amorous youths few opportunities of seeing their elegant forms in the street on other days.
</p>
<p>
Some of the methodists are in the habit of having meetings twice a-week at their own houses. In the street where I resided for some time a methodist woman lived within a few doors of our house; and twice a-week, from six to nine o&apos;clock in the evening, she used to collect a small congregation, for the purpose of praying and singing. There would have been nothing irregular or improper in such meetings, had they confined their devotion to themselves; but they actually disturbed the neighbourhood: for according as
<lb>
N 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0190">
0190
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
180
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
they happened to be 
<hi rend="italics">
inspired
</hi>
, they would rise up and bellow out such thundering imprecations upon their own wickedness, that a mob usually collected round the house. They took care, however, to have the window-shutters closed. I have frequently heard the woman of the house uttering the most blasphemous language, crying, howling, and groaning, while one of the brethren continued praying; and as the man increased his voice, she increased her howlings, in which the rest of the company frequently joined. When that was over, they would grow a little calmer, and sing hymns; after which they would finish their evening&apos;s devotion with a fulminating threat against all who refused to participate in the doctrine of faith without works. The woman of the house, however, was determined that 
<hi rend="italics">
works
</hi>
 should precede 
<hi rend="italics">
faith;
</hi>
 for she frequently flogged her slaves before she went to prayers, as a kind of prologue to the evening&apos;s entertainments.
</p>
<p>
Marriages are solemnized by clergymen of all persuasions; as they are, also, by justices of the peace. The latter incur a fine of 100
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 currency for so doing; but it has never been enforced against them. Licenses for marriage are more formal than necessary; for, as there is no law directing such a license to be first obtained, a marriage is equally lawful without it.
</p>
<p>
Funerals are conducted much in the same style
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0191">
0191
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
181
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
as at New York, except, that in Charleston the women attend. I have seen two or three hundred men, women, and children, walking arm in arm, in pairs. The corpse is placed on a sort of hearse, or rather cart, and covered with a pall, above which is a roof supported by four pillars; the whole is very mean, and drawn by only one horse, driven by a negro shabbily dressed. The relations, or particular friends, wear mourning, with crape hatbands and scarfs; the rest of the company are in coloured clothes. Previous to setting out; refreshment is served round, and sprigs of rosemary or lavender are given to each. The negroes imitate the whites in their funerals, and it is curious to see a negro parson and clerk attending them. The bells never toll in Charleston at funerals. A few months before the yellow fever raged in that city, in 1807, an 
<hi rend="italics">
undertaker
</hi>
 made his appearance, which was so great a novelty to the inhabitants that he was obliged to explain what was meant by the term 
<hi rend="italics">
undertaker
</hi>
 in an advertisement. Before this carpenters were employed to knock up a coffin, and the deceased&apos;s friends were obliged to provide every necessary for the funeral, either at their own houses or at different shops. Military funerals are conducted with much parade and ceremony.
</p>
<p>
The charitable societies in Charleston, besides the Orphan-house, are the South Carolina Society, St. Andrew&apos;s, Fellowship, German Friendly, Mechanic,
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0192">
0192
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
182
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
Mount Sion, Hibernian, Gemiloth Hasadin, and Free Masons. The grand lodge of the latter is self-constituted, and threw off the yoke of the grand lodge of England. It does not possess a fund of more than a thousand dollars, and its charitable donations are but small. A remarkable proposition was once made in this lodge, that all its members should profess 
<hi rend="italics">
Christianity;
</hi>
 it was, however, over-ruled; nor indeed could it have been admitted, as free-masonry was established with a view to embrace every denomination of religion in the world. Several of the new lodges in the United States are said to have degenerated from the pure principles of free-masonry, and are too apt to be influenced by politics.
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0193">
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</controlpgno>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXIII.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Legislature of South Carolina&mdash;City of Columbia&mdash;Revenue&mdash;Expenses of the City of Charleston&mdash;Taxes&mdash;Courts of Law&mdash;Curious Trial&mdash;Portraits of Washington and Hamilton more saleable than those of Jefferson&mdash;Review on Charleston Race Ground&mdash;Militia of South Carolina&mdash;Volunteer Corps of Charleston&mdash;Field-day&mdash;Military Force of the United States badly disciplined&mdash;Satire upon American Discipline&mdash;A Militia Muster.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
The
</hi>
 legislative authority of South Carolina is vested in a general assembly, consisting of a senate and house of representatives. The executive authority is vested in a governor and lieutenant-governor, who are chosen by the general assembly to continue in office for two years; and they are not eligible again until the term of four years after they have served in that capacity. The judicial power is vested in such superior and inferior courts of law and equity as the legislature may from time to time direct and establish. At present the courts of this state consist of a court of sessions and common pleas for each district in the state,
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0194">
0194
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
184
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
which are held twice a year. These courts are courts of record; possessing complete, original, and final jurisdiction, in all cases touching the causes and pleas concerning them; except as it may be altered by law, and in points of practice by the rules of court. In Charleston, a court has lately been established, called the Inferior City Court, for the purpose of hearing and determining all causes of a civil nature arising within the limits of the city, and for the trial of all offences against the by-laws of the same.
</p>
<p>
In the year 1789 the seat of government was removed from the city of Charleston to Columbia; and with it all the public records, excepting those relating to property, within the districts of Charleston, Georgetown, and Beaufort. But for the greater conveniency of the citizens in the upper and lower parts of the State, the offices attached to government were divided in such a manner, that the treasury, the office of state, and the surveyor-general&apos;s office were to have each an office at Columbia and Charleston; the heads of those departments residing at one place, and their deputies at the other.
</p>
<p>
Columbia, now the seat of government in South Carolina, is situated just below the confluence of the Broad and Saluda rivers on the eastern side of the Congaree River, about 115 miles from Charleston. The town is laid off by a regular plan, its
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0195">
0195
</controlpgno>
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185
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
streets intersecting each other at right angles. The buildings are erected about three quarters of a mile from the Congaree, on a ridge of high land, near 300 feet above the level of the river, from which a delightful prospect is presented. Here the state house, situated on a beautiful eminence, is to be seen, at the distance of many miles, from various parts of the country. Columbia consists of about 150 houses, and during the sittings of the legislature, assumes a gay appearance. At other times a calmness and quiet prevail, far different from the noise and bustle which might be expected in the capital of a State. This tranquillity is, however, sometimes roused into active business by the arrival of loaded waggons from the upper country. Vineyards, cotton, and hemp plantations are successfully cultivated in the neighbourhood of Columbia; and oil-mills, rope-walks, and some other manufactories have been established in the town.
</p>
<p>
In the year 1783 Charleston was incorporated by an act of the legislature, and called the city of Charleston. It was then divided into thirteen wards, each of which annually choose a warden by ballot; and from the whole of the wardens so chosen an intendant is afterwards elected by the citizens. These form a council for the government of the city, by whom all ordinances are passed for its regulation. Its police is enforced by a city
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0196">
0196
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
186
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
guard, under the command of a captain and other officers; and with the incorporation of the city, additional taxes are laid on its inhabitants for supporting the expense of the same, amounting annually to not less than 60,000 dollars.
</p>
<p>
Besides the expenses of the city, state taxes are imposed for the support of the government, the annual expense of which is about 100,000 dollars. This sum is raised by a tax on property of one and a half per cent., on carriages and negroes, the latter of which are taxed at the rate of one dollar and a half each. Free negroes and people of colour pay something more. Houses and land are repeatedly advertised to be sold for paying the taxes; and long lists are published in the papers as having been seized by the sheriff. All absent persons entitled to any taxable property or estate, in South Carolina, (excepting such as are sent abroad in the government service, until one year after the expiration of their commissions; or young men sent abroad for education, until attaining the age of twenty-three years,) are double taxed; because, as the State receives no benefit from their services at home, it is supposed but reasonable it should receive some compensation for protecting their estates while absent; and also because it tends to discourage long residences of the citizens abroad. Sums of money at interest, actually received, over and above what each person
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0197">
0197
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
187
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
pays on account of interest, (except when such interest is received by any widow, orphan, or unmarried woman, having no other means of livelihood,) are assessed at the rate of a quarter dollar on every hundred dollars which shall have produced an interest of seven per cent. Upon sales at public auction, a tax of one per cent. on all ships&apos; boats or other vessels; lands, houses, and slaves; and three per cent. on all horses, cattle, goods, wares, and merchandizes, is imposed. Hawkers and pedlars pay a tax of 250 dollars for a license to sell goods, wares, and merchandize in any part of the State. Theatrical performers pay 428 dollars and a half for every license granted in the city of Charleston, and 107 dollars 14 cents for every license granted elsewhere in the State.
</p>
<p>
The laws are similar to those of Great Britain; but the right of primogeniture has been abolished, and real and personal estates now descend, in cases of intestacy, by more equitable distributions. The power, however, of individuals in making wills remains the same as before. Bankrupts and insolvent debtors are never deprived of their liberty when they faithfully deliver up all their effects to their creditors.
</p>
<p>
I was present at the hearing of two causes in Charleston, in which there appeared to be something more than 
<hi rend="italics">
partiality
</hi>
 in the administration of justice. One was a case in which the owner
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0198">
0198
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
188
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of a slave-ship refused to pay the sailors their wages after a twelvemonths&apos; voyage, because the ship was seized on her arrival in port. The judge gave it in favour of the owner, and strong suspicions were entertained that he had been influenced by a pecuniary consideration. The decision, however, caused so much dissatisfaction, and appeared so unjust, that a young counsellor took the sailors&apos; cause in hand, and moved for a new trial; which being granted, the sailors gained their suit. Some of them had upwards of 300 dollars to receive. The other cause was the trial of a man for attempting to commit a rape. The jury found him guilty; but he was pardoned before he was brought up to receive sentence.
</p>
<p>
The present Attorney-general is said to be a sensible and learned man; but I never heard a worse orator in any court. The other barristers are all young men, and two or three of them are excellent speakers. I have often admired in the courts of law of the United States, the frequent references which the counsellors continually make to English law cases, at the same time that one half of the nation is railing against every thing that is English; and in Pennsylvania some violent democrats absolutely entered into a resolution to prohibit their barristers from quoting any cases from English law books, or referring, in any of their pleadings, to English precedents. This splenetic
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0199">
0199
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
189
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
resolution was, however, overruled by the district judge of Pennsylvania. Our law booksellers must export very largely to the United States, where lawyers are so numerous; most of the young men of genteel families being brought up to that profession.
</p>
<p>
A curious trial took place at Philadelphia, while I remained in the States, between two printsellers, Day and Jarvis, respecting an exchange of Jefferson&apos;s portraits for those of Washington. Jarvis had agreed, at the request of Day, to give fifty of Washington&apos;s portraits for fifty of Jefferson&apos;s; but finding how much the latter had depreciated and fallen in the public estimation, he sent only twenty-five Washingtons for the fifty Jeffersons which he had received. The other remonstrated, and even offered to take twenty-five Hamiltons in lieu; but this was refused, as the portraits of General Hamilton were nearly as valuable as those of Washington, they selling for five and six dollars each, while the Jeffersons could hardly find a sale at 
<hi rend="italics">
half a dollar
</hi>
 each. The judge said, that the jury were not to look at the value of the prints, but to the contract: upon which a verdict was given for the plaintiff, damages 118&frac12; dollars.
</p>
<p>
The militia of South Carolina is divided into two divisions, each commanded by a Major-general. These divisions comprehend nine brigades,
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0200">
0200
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
190
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
thirty-nine regiments of infantry, eight regiments and a squadron of cavalry, and one regiment and a battalion of artillery, besides artillery companies which are attached to some of the regiments of infantry. The brigades are commanded by as many Brigadier-generals; and the regiments are commanded by Lieutenant-colonels. The Governor is commander-in-chief of all the militia of the State, both by sea and land.
</p>
<p>
Every able-bodied white male citizen, between the age of eighteen and forty-five, is enrolled in the militia, and free people of colour are enrolled as pioneers. One-third of the militia may be marched out of the State by order of the executive of the United States, on particular emergencies, and under certain conditions; and treated in every respect the same as the regular troops, except that in cases of court-martial the court is to be selected from the militia of the State. Officers rise by seniority; and no election exists except in the first appointment of subaltern. The number of effective militia in South Carolina is about 40,000, of whom 2,000 are cavalry.
</p>
<p>
In Charleston, the inhabitants have formed themselves into volunteer corps, armed and clothed at their own expense. One half consists of cavalry and artillery. The uniform of the latter is a long blue coat, with red facings, and large cocked hat and red feather; it has a heavy appearance, and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0201">
0201
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
191
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
is but ill adapted to such a corps, whose chief perfection is in celerity of movement. The little company of Jews wear a similar dress, which, with their peculiarity of features, renders them grotesque-looking soldiers. I was present at a review, on the race-ground, of the different corps, and the new levy of militia, forming a part of the 100,000 men ordered by Congress to hold themselves in readiness for the defence of the country. They appeared to be very ill disciplined, and the new levy, which mustered about 1,000 men, was out of uniform, and had no other arms than their own rifles or fowling-pieces. The volunteer companies were dressed in a variety of uniforms, and made a respectable appearance. The emblem upon the colours of the artillery corps was apt enough to the situation of the country at the period of the revolution: it was an artilleryman standing by the side of a cannon, and a serpent upon the ground near his feet, looking up in the man&apos;s face, with the motto, &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Don&apos;t tread on me.
</hi>
&rdquo; The militia in the United States is for the most part badly disciplined. In the towns, some show of a military force is kept up by the volunteers, who are fond of captivating the ladies with their smart uniforms and nodding plumes; but throughout the country places the militia meet only to eat, drink, and be merry. I met with an excellent satire upon one of these meetings while I was
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0202">
0202
</controlpgno>
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192
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
at Charleston. As it may afford my readers some amusement, I have taken the liberty to lay it before them.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;I happened not long since to be present at the muster of a captain&apos;s company, in a remote part of one of the counties; and as no general description could convey an adequate idea of the achievements of that day, I must be permitted to go a little into the detail, as well as my recollection will serve me. The men had been notified to meet at nine o&apos;clock, &lsquo;armed and equipped as the law directs,&rsquo; that is to say, with a gun and cartouch box at least; but as directed by the law of the United States, &lsquo;with a good firelock, a sufficient bayonet and belt, and pouch with a box to contain not less than twenty-four sufficient cartridges of powder and ball.&rsquo; At 
<hi rend="italics">
twelve
</hi>
 o&apos;clock about one-third, perhaps half, the men had collected; and an inspector&apos;s return of the number present would have stood nearly thus: 
<hi rend="italics">
one
</hi>
 captain, 
<hi rend="italics">
one
</hi>
 lieutenant, ensign 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, serjeants 
<hi rend="italics">
two
</hi>
, corporals 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, drummers 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, fifers 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, privates present 25, ditto absent 30, guns 15, gunlocks 12, ramrods 10, rifle pouches 
<hi rend="italics">
three
</hi>
, bayonets 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, belts 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, spare flints 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, cartridges 
<hi rend="italics">
none
</hi>
, horsewhips, walking canes, and umbrellas, 
<hi rend="italics">
twenty-two.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;A little before one o&apos;clock, the captain, whom I shall distinguish by the name of 
<hi rend="italics">
Clodpole
</hi>
, gave directions for forming the line of parade. In
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0203">
0203
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
193
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
obedience to this order, one of the serjeants, the strength of whose lungs had long supplied the place of a drum and fife, placed himself in front of the house, and began to bawl with great vehemence, &lsquo;All Captain Clodpole&apos;s company to parade there! come, 
<hi rend="italics">
gentlemen
</hi>
, parade here! parade here!&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;and all you that hasn&apos;t guns, fall into the lower 
<hi rend="italics">
eend.
</hi>
&rsquo; He might have bawled till this time, with as little success as the Syrens sung to Ulysses, had he not changed his post to a neighbouring shade; there he was immediately joined by all who were then at leisure, the others were at that time engaged either as parties or spectators at a game of fives, and could not just then attend: however, in less 
<hi rend="italics">
than half an hour
</hi>
 the game was finished, and the captain was enabled to form his company, and proceed in the duties of the day.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Look to the right and dress!
</hi>
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;They were soon, by the help of the non-commissioned officers, placed in a straight line; but as every man was anxious to see how the rest stood, those on the wings pressed forward for that purpose, till the whole line assumed nearly the form of a crescent.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Whew!
</hi>
 look at &apos;em!&rdquo; says the captain: &ldquo;why, gentlemen, you are all crooking here at both 
<hi rend="italics">
eends
</hi>
, so that you will get on to me by and by: come, gentlemen, 
<hi rend="italics">
dress! dress!
</hi>
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
O
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0204">
0204
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
194
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
&ldquo;This was accordingly done; but impelled by the same motive as before, they soon resumed their former figure, and so they were permitted to remain.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Now, gentlemen,&rdquo; says the captain, &ldquo;I am going to carry you through the 
<hi rend="italics">
revolutions
</hi>
 of the manual exercise, and I want you, gentlemen, if you please, to pay every particular attention to the word of command, just exactly as I give it out to you. I hope you will have a little patience, gentlemen, if you please, and I&apos;ll be as short as possible; and if I should be a-going wrong, I will be much obliged to any of you, gentlemen, to put me right again, for I mean all for the best, and I hope you will excuse me if you please. And one thing, gentlemen, I must caution you against, in particular, and that is this, not to make any 
<hi rend="italics">
mistakes
</hi>
 if you can possibly help it, and the best way to do this, will be to do all the motions 
<hi rend="italics">
right
</hi>
 at first, and that will help us to get along so much the faster, and I will try to have it over as soon as possible. Come, boys, come to a shoulder.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Poise foolk!
</hi>
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Cock foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Very handsomely done.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Take aim!
</hi>
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Ram down cartridge!
</hi>
&mdash;No! No! Fire. I recollect now, that firing comes next after taking aim, according to Steuben; but with your permission
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0205">
0205
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
195
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
gentlemen, I&apos;ll 
<hi rend="italics">
read
</hi>
 the words of command just exactly as they are printed in the book, and then I shall be sure to be right. &lsquo;O yes! read it, Captain, read it,&rsquo; exclaimed twenty voices at once, &lsquo;that will save time.&rsquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;&apos;
<hi rend="italics">
Tention the whole then:
</hi>
 please to observe, gentlemen, that at the word fire! you must 
<hi rend="italics">
fire!
</hi>
 that is, if any of your guns are 
<hi rend="italics">
loaden&apos;d
</hi>
, you must not shoot in 
<hi rend="italics">
yearnest
</hi>
, but only make pretence like; and all you gentlemen fellow-soldiers, who&apos;s armed with nothing but sticks, and riding switches, and corn stalks, needn&apos;t go through the firings, but stand as you are, and keep yourselves to yourselves.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Half coch foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Very well done.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;S, h, u, t, (spelling) 
<hi rend="italics">
shet pan!
</hi>
&mdash;That too would have been very handsomely done, if you hadn&apos;t have handled the cartridge instead; but I suppose you wasn&apos;t noticing. Now, &apos;
<hi rend="italics">
tention
</hi>
 one and all, gentlemen, and do that motion again.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Shet pan!
</hi>
&mdash;Very good, very well indeed, you did that motion equal to any old soldiers; you improve astonishingly.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Handle cartridge!
</hi>
&mdash;Pretty well, considering you done it wrong 
<hi rend="italics">
eend
</hi>
 foremost, as if you took the cartridge out of your mouth, and bit off the twist with the cartridge box.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Draw rammer!
</hi>
&mdash;Those who have no rammers to their guns need not draw, but only make
<lb>
O 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0206">
0206
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
196
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the motion; it will do just as well, and save a great deal of time.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Return rammer!
</hi>
&mdash;Very well again&mdash;But that would have been done, I think, with greater expertness, if you had performed the motion with a little more dexterity.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Shoulder foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Very handsomely done, indeed, if you had only brought the 
<hi rend="italics">
foolk
</hi>
 to the other shoulder, gentlemen. Do that motion again, gentlemen, and bring the 
<hi rend="italics">
foolk
</hi>
 up to the left shoulder.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Shoulder foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Very good.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Order foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Not quite so well, gentlemen; not quite all together: but perhaps I did not speak loud enough for you to hear me all at once; try once more if you please; I hope you will be patient, gentlemen, we will soon be through.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Order foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Handsomely done, gentlemen! very handsomely done! and all together too, except that a few of you were a 
<hi rend="italics">
leetle
</hi>
 too soon, and some others a 
<hi rend="italics">
leetle
</hi>
 too late.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;In laying down your guns, gentlemen, take care to lay the locks up, and the other sides down.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;&apos;Tention the whole! 
<hi rend="italics">
Ground foolk!
</hi>
&mdash;Very well.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Charge bagonet!
</hi>
 (
<hi rend="italics">
Some of the men
</hi>
)&mdash;&lsquo;That can&apos;t be right, Captain, pray look again, for how can we charge bagonet without our guns?&rsquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;(
<hi rend="italics">
Captain
</hi>
) I don&apos;t know as to that, but I know
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0207">
0207
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
197
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
I&apos;m right, for here it is printed in the book c, h, a, r, yes, 
<hi rend="italics">
charge bagonet
</hi>
, that&apos;s right, that&apos;s the word, if I know how to read; come, gentlemen, do pray charge bagonet! Charge, I say! Why don&apos;t you charge? Do you think it an&apos;t so? Do you think I have lived to this time of day, and don&apos;t know what 
<hi rend="italics">
charge bagonet
</hi>
 is? Here, come here, you may see for yourselves; it&apos;s as plain as the nose on your fa&mdash;stop&mdash;stay&mdash;no!&mdash;halt! no, no! &lsquo;faith I&apos;m wrong! I&apos;m wrong! I turned over 
<hi rend="italics">
two leaves at once.
</hi>
 But I beg your pardon, gentlemen, we will not stay out long; and we&apos;ll have 
<hi rend="italics">
something to drink
</hi>
 as soon as we&apos;ve done. Come, boys, get up off the stumps and logs, and take up your guns, and we&apos;ll soon be done; excuse me if you please.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Fix bagonet!
</hi>
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Advance arms!
</hi>
&mdash;Very well done, turn the stocks of your guns in front, gentlemen, and that will bring the barrels behind; and hold them straight up and down if you please. Let go with your left hand, and take hold with your right just below the guard. Steuben says the gun must be held up p, e, r, 
<hi rend="italics">
perticular:
</hi>
 yes you must always mind and hold your guns very perticular. Now, boys, &apos;tention the whole!
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Present arms!
</hi>
&mdash;Very handsomely done! only hold your guns over the other knee, and the other hand up, turn your guns round a 
<hi rend="italics">
leetle
</hi>
, and raise
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0208">
0208
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
198
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
them up higher, draw the other foot back! Now you are nearly right. Very well done, gentlemen; you have improved vastly since I first saw you: you are getting too 
<hi rend="italics">
slick.
</hi>
 What a charming thing it is to see men under good discipline! Now, gentlemen, we are come to the 
<hi rend="italics">
revolutions:
</hi>
 but Lord, men, how did you get into such a higglety-pigglety?&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;The fact was, the shade had moved considerably to the eastward, and had exposed the right wing of these hardy veterans to a galling fire of the 
<hi rend="italics">
sun.
</hi>
 Being but poorly provided with umbrellas at this end of the line, they found it convenient to follow the shade, and in huddling to the left for this purpose, they had changed the figure of their line from that of a crescent to one which more nearly resembled a pair of pothooks.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Come, gentlemen,&rdquo; says the captain, &ldquo;spread yourselves out again into a straight line, and let us get into the wheelings and other matters as soon as possible.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;But this was strenuously opposed by the soldiers. They objected to going into these 
<hi rend="italics">
revolutions
</hi>
 at all, inasmuch as the weather was extremely hot, and they had already been kept in the field upwards of 
<hi rend="italics">
three quarters
</hi>
 of an hour. They reminded the captain of his repeated promise to be as short as he possibly could, and it was clear he could dispense with all this same wheeling and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0209">
0209
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
199
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
flourishing if he chose. They were already very thirsty, and if he would not dismiss them, they declared they would go off without dismission, and get something to drink; and he might fine them if that would do him any good; they were able to pay their fine, but could not go without drink to please any body; and they swore they would never 
<hi rend="italics">
vote
</hi>
 for another captain who wished to be so unreasonably strict.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;The captain behaved with great spirit upon this occasion, and a smart colloquy ensued; when at length, becoming exasperated to the last degree, he roundly asserted, that no soldier ought ever 
<hi rend="italics">
to think hard
</hi>
 of the orders of his officer; and finally he went as far as to say, that he did not think any gentleman on that ground had any just cause to be offended with him. The dispute was at length settled by the captain&apos;s sending for some grog, for their present accommodation, and agreeing to omit reading the military law, as directed by a late act, and also all the military man&oelig;uvres, except two or three such easy and simple ones as could be performed within the compass of the shade. After they had drunk their grog, and &ldquo;spread themselves,&rdquo; they were divided into platoons.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Tention the whole!&mdash;
<hi rend="italics">
To the right wheel!
</hi>
&rdquo; Each man faced to the right about.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Why, gentlemen, I didn&apos;t mean for every man
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0210">
0210
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
200
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
to stand still and turn 
<hi rend="italics">
nayturally
</hi>
 right round; but when I told you to wheel to the right, I intended for you to wheel round to the right as it were. Please to try that again, gentlemen; every right hand man must stand fast, and only the others turn round.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;In a previous part of the exercise, it had, for the purpose of sizing them, been necessary to denominate every second person a &ldquo;right hand man.&rdquo; A very natural consequence was, that on the present occasion those right hand men maintained their position, and all the intermediate ones faced about as before.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Why look at &apos;em now!&rdquo; exclaimed the captain in extreme vexation. &ldquo;I&apos;ll be d&mdash;d if you can understand a word I say. Excuse me, gentlemen, but it 
<hi rend="italics">
rayly
</hi>
 seems as if you couldn&apos;t come at it exactly. In wheeling to the right, the right hand 
<hi rend="italics">
eend
</hi>
 of the platoon stands fast, and the other 
<hi rend="italics">
eend
</hi>
 comes round like a swingle tree. Those on the outside must march faster than those on the inside, and those on the inside not near so fast as those on the outside. You certainly must understand me now, gentlemen; and now please to try once more.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;In this they were a little more successful.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Very well, gentlemen; very well indeed: and now, gentlemen, at the word wheel to the left, you must wheel to the left.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0211">
0211
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
201
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
&ldquo;&apos;Tention the whole! 
<hi rend="italics">
To the left&mdash;left no&mdash;right&mdash;that is the left&mdash;I mean the right&mdash;left, wheel! march!
</hi>
&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;In this he was strictly obeyed; some wheeling to the right, some to the left, and some to the right, left, or both ways.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Stop! halt! let us try again! I could not just then tell my right hand from my left; you must excuse me, gentlemen, if you please; experience makes perfect, as the saying is; long as I&apos;ve served, I find something new to learn every day, but all&apos;s one for that: now, gentlemen, do that motion once more.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;By the help of a non-commissioned officer in front of each platoon, they wheeled this time with considerable regularity.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Now, boys, you must try to wheel by divisions, and there is one thing in particular which I have to request of you, gentlemen, and it is this, not to make any blunder in your wheeling. You must mind and keep at a wheeling distance; and not talk in the ranks, nor get out of fix again; for I want you to do this motion well, and not make any blunder now.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;&apos;Tention the whole! 
<hi rend="italics">
By divisions! to the right wheel! march!
</hi>
&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;In doing this, it seemed as if Bedlam had broke loose; every man took the command&mdash;&ldquo;Not so fast on the right!&mdash;How now! how
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0212">
0212
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
202
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
now!&mdash;Haul down those umbrellas!&mdash;Faster on the left!&mdash;Keep back a little in the middle there&mdash;Don&apos;t crowd so&mdash;Hold up your gun, Sam&mdash;Go faster there!&mdash;Faster!&mdash;Who trod on me?&mdash;D&mdash;n your 
<hi rend="italics">
huffs
</hi>
, keep back! keep back!&mdash;Stop us, captain, do stop us&mdash;Go faster there&mdash;I&apos;ve lost my shoe&mdash;Get up again&mdash;Ned, halt! halt! halt!&mdash;Stop, gentlemen! stop! stop!&mdash;
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;By this time they got into utter and inexplicable confusion and so I left them.&rdquo;
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0213">
0213
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
203
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXIV.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Arts, Sciences, and Literature of South Carolina&mdash;Newspapers&mdash;Incomes of the Planters&mdash;Houses&mdash;Productions of the Soil&mdash;Implements of Husbandry&mdash;Waggons&mdash;Sledges&mdash;Grasses&mdash;Pasture Lands&mdash;Manufactures&mdash;Gunpowder&mdash;Grist Mills&mdash;Manufactories of Cordage&mdash;Commerce of South Carolina&mdash;Neutral Trade&mdash;Conduct of the Belligerents&mdash;Exports from Charleston.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
Arts,
</hi>
 sciences, and literature receive but little encouragement in South Carolina. The sports of the field, the pleasures of the bottle, and the conviviality of the table, have more charms for a Carolinian than philosophical inquiries or the study of the Belles Lettres; yet some few have distinguished themselves as writers upon the local or general history of the country, and the revolutionary war. Among the most recent are Dr. Ramsay and Governor Drayton. To the latter gentleman I am indebted for much of the information I have obtained concerning the climate and diseases, agriculture, and manufactures of that state.
</p>
<p>
There are three newspapers published daily in
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0214">
0214
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
204
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
Charleston. The 
<hi rend="italics">
City Gazette
</hi>
 and the 
<hi rend="italics">
Courier
</hi>
 are morning papers, but of totally opposite political principles. The former is violently democratic, and the latter as violently federal. Each, of course, favours the French or English nations as best suits with their politics: and, like other party papers in the States, they copy only those paragraphs from foreign papers which tell well on their own side. The 
<hi rend="italics">
Times
</hi>
 is an afternoon paper, and in politics adopts a medium between the two others. It copies impartially from the English and French papers; and the editor seldom troubles the public with any political disquisition of his own. All the papers are well stocked with advertisements; among which 
<hi rend="italics">
prime Congo, Gambia
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
Angola slaves
</hi>
 for 
<hi rend="italics">
sale
</hi>
 at Gadsden&apos;s wharf, were very conspicuous before the abolition of that inhuman traffic; at present 
<hi rend="italics">
run away negroes, auctions, stores,
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
sherif&apos;s sales,
</hi>
 fill up most of the columns, and, with long fulsome paragraphs 
<hi rend="italics">
in praise of the dead
</hi>
, leave but little space for the news of the day. Advertisements are often drawn up in a ludicrous style; and rewards offered for lost or stolen property that are not likely to facilitate their recovery. 
<hi rend="italics">
One cent
</hi>
 reward is sometimes offered to those who will apprehend a negro fellow, or wench, that has absconded from a plantation; and I once saw a reward of 
<hi rend="italics">
thirty-nine lashes
</hi>
 offered for the recovery of a pair of saddlebags
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0215">
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205
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
which had been stolen off a horse; and that &ldquo;any 
<hi rend="italics">
d&mdash;&mdash;d rascal
</hi>
 who stole them, and would return the same to 
<hi rend="italics">
Thomas Stokes,
</hi>
 should receive the above 
<hi rend="italics">
reward!
</hi>
&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
South Carolina may be divided into lower, middle, and upper country; for the soil, productions, and political &oelig;conomy of the inhabitants of those divisions exhibit considerable variation and diversity of character. The lower country, rising gradually from the sea shore to a ridge of sandhills, about sixty miles back, is distinguished by its level surface, its inlets, creeks, marshes, and islands; its swamps, bays, and pine barrens. The middle country, commencing at the sand hills, is in general barren and unproductive; but in the neighbourhood of large rivers the soil is of excellent quality. The upper country commences from the hills of Santee, and the falls of the river. It is distinguished by its rising grounds, loose stones, beds of rock, and towards the extremity of the state, by enormous mountains. The soil of this division is in general good, but requires much labour and industry in its cultivation. As there are few or no slaves in this part of the state, the business devolves almost entirely upon the farmer and his family, who thus approach nearer in their manners to the inhabitants of the New England States than the planters and farmers of the middle and lower country.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0216">
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<printpgno>
206
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
Land is originally holden by grant, signed by the respective governors of the state, under seal of the same, conveying an estate of inheritance in free and common soccage; and is attended with no other expense on obtaining the grant than the payment of certain small fees of office. It is inherited by the laws of this state in equal shares, amongst all of the same degree; and if sold, is conveyed by lease and release, feoffment with delivery, or by simple deed, according to a late act of the legislature passed for that purpose. Few lands are holden on lease; or, if they be, the leases are for short terms and on liberal conditions, and in general the lands are possessed and tilled by the rightful owners of the soil.
</p>
<p>
The incomes of the planters and farmers are various, ranging from 80,000 to 40 dollars. Very few, however, receive incomes of the magnitude of the former sum. Many receive from 12,000 to 20,000 dollars per annum; but the majority of the planters are only in the annual receipt of from 3,000 to 6,000 dollars. The estates of these latter may be worth from twenty to forty thousand dollars. The farmers are on a smaller scale; and their incomes may be said to range between 2,000 and 40 dollars. The best lands in South Carolina, which are tide-swamps, if cultivated, have sold for 170 dollars per acre. In general, however, they sell from 70 to 90 dollars an acre, on a credit of
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0217">
0217
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
207
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
one or two years. Uncultivated tide land sells proportionably lower. Inland swamps, if cultivated, sell at prices between 20 and 50 dollars per acre. Good cotton land has sold in Beaufort district as high as 60 dollars per acre; its value, however, in general, in different parts of the state, is from six to forty dollars; the price depending much on its situation, as that nearest the sea, for instance, is considered the most valuable, and produces the finest cotton. Other high lands sell from one to six dollars an acre, according to their respective situations and conveniences for navigation.
</p>
<p>
The buildings are as various as the value of estates, ranging in value between 30,000 and 20 dollars. They are commonly built of wood: some, however, are constructed of brick; though they are principally in the cities and towns. Of late years building has been carried on with spirit throughout the state; and houses of brick and wood erected suitable to the improvement of the manners and comforts of society. The houses are, for the most part, built of one or two stories, according to the taste and abilities of the owner. One peculiarity, however, may be remarked respecting them, which is, that piazzas are generally attached to their southern front, as well for the convenience of walking therein during the day, as for preventing the sun&apos;s too great influence on the interior of the house; and the out-offices
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0218">
0218
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
208
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
and kitchens are rarely connected with the principal dwelling, being placed at a distance from it of thirty or forty yards. The houses of the poorest sort of people are made of logs, let into each other at the ends, and their interstices filled up with moss, straw, and clay. The roofs are covered with clap boards. Their plan is simple, as they consist of only one or two rooms; and the manners of their tenants are equally plain.
</p>
<p>
In the lower country cotton and rice are cultivated largely for sale; while Indian corn, cow-peas, and long potatoes, are only planted sufficient for the yearly consumption of the settlement; and on many of the tide-swamp rice plantations no provisions but potatoes are planted, their produce being only equal to the support of the plantation for a few months. The rest is supplied by the purchase of Indian corn, brought down the rivers from the middle parts of the state, and also imported from some of the United States.
</p>
<p>
In the middle country cotton and Indian corn are principally raised for sale: and the produce of all kinds of grain is so abundant, that there is no want of provision for the support of life. In the upper country tobacco is the principal object for sale; and its inhabitants have lately turned their attention towards the raising of cotton with good prospects of success: wheat and hemp are also raised there for sale; together with horses and
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0219">
0219
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
209
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
stock of different kinds. Flax is cultivated for the convenience of family concerns. In some parts of the upper country stones and rocks are met with on the summit of ridges; but the lands in culture are seldom so much troubled with them as to render it necessary either to collect them in heaps, or afford materials for building stone walls; the inclosures are therefore generally made of split rails, which being placed on each other in an angular manner, constitute what is called a 
<hi rend="italics">
worm fence.
</hi>
 In the middle and lower parts of South Carolina the soil is free from rocks and stones, and consists chiefly of swamps, sands, and clay, with a slight intermixture of gravel at intervals.
</p>
<p>
The implements of husbandry used in South Carolina are few and simple: they consist of various ploughs, such as the bar-share, shovel, fluke, single coulter, cutter and drill; harrows, hoes, spades, waggons, carts, and sledges. Ploughs are chiefly used in the middle and upper country, where labourers are few, and the soil tenacious and stubborn. In the lower country they are but partially used, although the planters would probably find it their interest to adopt them more generally. In some cases they cultivate a cotton and Indian-corn crop by the plough; but they are oftener done with the hoe, which may be considered as the principal instrument of husbandry in the lower country. The spade is used chiefly
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
P
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0220">
0220
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
210
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
for ditching and draining the rice lands; but the hoe is used for cultivating them. In some tide and inland plantations, however, where the ground is strong, and has been kept sufficiently dry, ploughs are used wih great advantage.
</p>
<p>
Waggons and sledges are principally used in the middle and upper country; the first for transporting heavy articles to a distance, and the last for drawing wood, rails, and small timber about a settlement. In the lower country, ox carts capable of carrying three or four barrels of rice are almost solely the mode of land carriage for the rice planters. They are drawn by three or four yoke of oxen, and attended by two or three negro drivers.
</p>
<p>
There are upwards of sixteen different grasses indigenous to South Carolina; but in general little attention is paid to the forming of pasture and meadow lands. The cattle are sent into the woods to graze; and the culture of cotton, rice, and maize becomes the chief object of the planter and farmer&apos;s attention. Some lands in the vicinity of Charleston are, however, converted into fields for mowing, as the high price of hay in that neighbourhood renders this branch of agriculture a profitable business; but the greatest proportion of hay is brought from the northern states in the packet vessels. In general the cattle is fed during winter upon the leaves and blades of the Indian-corn, rice-straw, &amp;c. Horses and poultry are fed with the corn, which,
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0221">
0221
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
211
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
together with rice, also forms the principal food of the negroes. The white inhabitants are extremely fond of the corn bruised, and boiled into a pudding, which they call 
<hi rend="italics">
hominy.
</hi>
 It is eaten with milk, sugar, and butter, and is a favourite dish at breakfast.
</p>
<p>
While agriculture is so much attended to, and the means of engaging in it so easy, it is not surprising that few direct their attention to manufactures. Some years ago a cotton manufactory was established near Statesborough, which bid fair to rise into consideration. It was, however, soon perceived that the price of labour was too great to permit its goods to stand any competition with those of similar qualities imported from Great Britain: consequently the proprietors were obliged to discontinue their operations. A numerous population and scarcity of lands must first be experienced in a country before its inhabitants will resort to manufactures, while a more eligible mode of subsistence exists. In the upper country, however, necessity has obliged the inhabitants to provide for their respective wants from their own resources, in consequence of the difficulty and expense of conveying bulky articles from there sea-coast to the interior. The traveller there soon becomes accustomed to the humming music of the spinning-wheel and the loom. Cottons and woollens of various descriptions are made in sufficient quantities for domestic use; and if we except
<lb>
P 2
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0222">
0222
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
212
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the articles of salt and sugar, the people in the upper parts of the state may be considered independent of foreign support; for carpenters, smiths, masons, tanners, shoemakers, sadlers, hatters, millwrights, and other tradesmen, are conveniently situated throughout the country; and the materials necessary for their respective professions are met with in abundance.
</p>
<p>
Gunpowder is occasionally manufactured in the interior of South Carolina; not, however, by a regular set of mills, but in a small way, and as exigencies may require. In general the inhabitants are supplied with that article and saltpetre from Tennessee and Kentucky.
</p>
<p>
A variety of mills for grinding wheat and packing flour, for sawing timber and making oil, are scattered over the country. Three rope-walks have also been established of late years;&mdash;two near Charleston, and the other at Columbia. The latter manufacture about 80 tons of cordage in the year, from hemp raised upon the lands in the adjacent country. From this manufactory the ropes and cables were obtained for the first equipment of the John Adams frigate of 32 guns, built at Charleston in 1799.
</p>
<p>
Previous to the revolutionary war the exports of South Carolina amounted, upon an average, to 500,000
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
 sterling, and consisted principally of rice, indigo, tobacco, deer skins, pitch, tar, turpentine,
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0223">
0223
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
213
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
salt provisions, Indian corn, and lumber, During the war agriculture and commerce were both materially injured. The usual supplies of clothing from the mother-country being stopped, manufactories were established; and the negroes were for the most pater clothed with mixed cloths of cotton and wool spun and woven for the occasion. Many negroes were taken from agricultural pursuits, as well to assist at these manufactures as to carry on the erection of fortifications and other public works; in consequence of which the articles for exportation naturally decreased, or, when collected, were consumed at home alternately by friends and foes.
</p>
<p>
At the conclusion of the war it appeared that the agriculture and commerce of South Carolina had retrograded nearly forty-seven years; the exports of 1783 being scarcely equal to those of 1736. The internal consumption, however, must have been greater; but the loss to the state was the same. Since that period her agriculture and commerce have rapidly augmented, though in some degree counteracted by the partial prohibition of the importation of negroes for several years past, and which was fully carried into execution on the 1st of January 1808. From year to year new prospects have presented themselves; new objects of agriculture have arisen; and the loss of one staple has been supplied by another of superior
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0224">
0224
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
214
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
value: cotton is now the most valuable export of South Carolina.
</p>
<p>
Since the French Revolution Charleston has been the medium of the greatest part of that trade which has been carried on between the French West India islands and the mother-country under the neutral flag of the United States. In this manner quantities of cocoa, coffee, sugar, rum, indigo, and other articles, the produce of the French, Spanish, and Dutch possessions in the West Indies and South America, are included in the exports of South Carolina, from the year 1793, which in time of peace are directly exported from the colonies to the mother country. Within these few years much of this neutral traffic has been gradually abolished by the restrictive decrees and orders of council of the two great belligerent Powers, in return for which the Americans have retaliated by a general embargo: with what success remains to be seen. The number of vessels that entered the port of Charleston in 1801 amounted to 1,274, of which 875 belonged to that port; the rest were chiefly British vessels. At the time the embargo reached Charleston, the number of vessels in port were, ships 78, brigs 42, schooners and sloops 85&mdash;total 205.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0225">
0225
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
215
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<table entity="p0225">
<caption>
<p>
A Statement exhibiting the quantities of Rice, Indigo, Tobacco, and Cotton, exported from South Carolina to Great Britain and other foreign parts, from 1760 to 1801, also the total value of exports at different periods.
</p></caption>
<tabletext>
<cell>
Years.
</cell>
<cell>
Barrels of rice.
</cell>
<cell>
lbs. weight of indigo.
</cell>
<cell>
Hogsheads of tobacco.
</cell>
<cell>
lbs. weight of cotton.
</cell>
<cell>
Total value of the exports for each year.
</cell>
<cell>
&pound; Sterling. s. d.
</cell>
<cell>
1760
</cell>
<cell>
100,000
</cell>
<cell>
399,366
</cell>
<cell>
14
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
256,767 0 0
</cell>
<cell>
1761
</cell>
<cell>
62,288
</cell>
<cell>
249,000
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
300,000 0 0
</cell>
<cell>
1762
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
508,108 6 10
</cell>
<cell>
1768
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
387,114 12 1
</cell>
<cell>
1769
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
278,907 14 0
</cell>
<cell>
1770
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
420,311 14 8
</cell>
<cell>
1771
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
756,000 1 1
</cell>
<cell>
1772
</cell>
<cell>
140,000
</cell>
<cell>
1,107,660
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
456,513 8 4
</cell>
<cell>
1782
</cell>
<cell>
22,224
</cell>
<cell>
827 casks
</cell>
<cell>
643
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1783
</cell>
<cell>
61,974
</cell>
<cell>
2,051 do.
</cell>
<cell>
2,680
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1789
</cell>
<cell>
100,000
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1792
</cell>
<cell>
106,419
</cell>
<cell>
839,666 lbs.
</cell>
<cell>
5,290
</cell>
<cell>
68,520
</cell>
<cell>
656,545 5 6
</cell>
<cell>
1795
</cell>
<cell>
85,670
</cell>
<cell>
1,217 casks
</cell>
<cell>
4,288
</cell>
<cell>
1,109,653
</cell>
<cell>
1,346,444 2 0
</cell>
<cell>
1799
</cell>
<cell>
70,426
</cell>
<cell>
6,892 lbs.
</cell>
<cell>
9,646
</cell>
<cell>
2,801,996
</cell>
<cell>
1,964,027 7 6
</cell>
<cell>
1800
</cell>
<cell>
75,788
</cell>
<cell>
3,400 lbs.
</cell>
<cell>
7,927
</cell>
<cell>
6,425,863
</cell>
<cell>
2,374,839 9 0
</cell>
<cell>
1801
</cell>
<cell>
64,769
</cell>
<cell>
8,502 lbs.
</cell>
<cell>
5,996
</cell>
<cell>
8,301,907
</cell>
<cell>
3,218,410 2 6
</cell>
</tabletext>
</table>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0226">
0226
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
216
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXV.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Climate of South Carolina&mdash;Musquitos&mdash;Whirlwinds&mdash;Storms of Hail&mdash;Immense Hailstones&mdash;Remarkable Sleet&mdash;Sudden Changes of Weather&mdash;State of the Weather in Charleston for 1807&mdash;Strangers&apos; Fever&mdash;Mountains covered with Snow&mdash;Vicissitudes of Climate&mdash;Obituary from the Bills of Mortality in Charleston during five Years.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
From
</hi>
 the diversity of soil and situation in South Carolina, it necessarily results that there is a diversity of temperature in its climate. The upper country, from its elevated situation and near affinity to the mountains, possesses a dry elastic atmosphere extremely conducive to health: the heat of the day during summer is not oppressive, and the night partakes of a refreshing coolness. The climate of the middle country resembles that of the upper and lower divisions, as influenced by situation. The lower country, from many causes, differs materially from the other districts. Continually intersected by multitudes of swamps, bays, and low grounds, and having large reservoirs of water, and rice-fields at particular
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0227">
0227
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
217
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
times overflowed, the atmosphere is surcharged with moisture, and its tonic power consequently reduced. The waters thus spread over the face of the country, and exposed to the action of a powerful sun, become unfriendly to health, and acquire a considerable degree of mephitic influence; while the evaporation thus occasioned, added to the perspiration of vegetables, completely saturates the atmosphere with a profusion of humidity, which is precipitated upon the surrounding country, either in heavy rains or copious dews. Hence fogs of much density cover the low lands throughout the night, during the summer months, and are dispelled in the morning by the rising sun or agitating winds.
</p>
<p>
When such is the situation of the lower country, it is not surprising that the months particularly influenced by heat should be chequered by sickness, among those who imprudently expose themselves to the cold damps of the night, or the feverish heats of the day; and accordingly from June to November we find intermittent fevers prevailing throughout the middle and lower country, in those parts adjacent to fresh water. The heavy rains generally commence in June and July; and until their waters have become in some measure stagnant, and putrefaction is produced, the health of the lower country is not particularly affected; but when weeds and vegetables
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0228">
0228
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
218
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
have arrived at their rankest growth, and putrefactions are excited by the operations of heat and moisture, the atmosphere then becomes hurtful to the animal system. The same effects are also produced from similar causes in Georgia and East Florida: consequently the winds from those countries in autumn are much charged with mephitic qualities, and south-west winds in summer produce a feverish degree of heat, which greatly increases the bilious fevers and other diseases at Charleston.
</p>
<p>
During the hot months, many reptiles and insects are engendered near the stagnant waters; among these, none are so troublesome as the musquitos; for though they in some measure shun the heat of the day, yet they are at night particularly teasing to all those who venture to sleep exposed to their attacks. No person can lie down with any prospect of a night&apos;s repose in comfort, without being guarded from them by a gauze pavilion or canopy placed over his bed.
</p>
<p>
Although situate in the temperate, yet, by its near affinity to the torrid zone, South Carolina is placed in a situation which exposes it to the conflicts of elements in a greater degree than some of the more northern states. To this cause may be ascribed the destructive whirlwinds which sometimes lay waste parts of the country.
</p>
<p>
These proceed oftener through the upper country
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0229">
0229
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
219
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
than in the lower parts of the State; and, within the circumference of half a mile, will roll over the earth, tear up the largest oaks and other trees in their way, or twist and shiver them to pieces. Storms of hail are also produced, whose effects have been destructive to various parts of the State. The hills on either side the Catawba river, near Rocky Mount, can testify the severity of one which happened there some years ago. The discharge of hailstones was so heavy and large, that the pine-trees, which were just putting out their buds in the spring, and were interspersed among the oaks and hickories on the hills, were completely killed; and at this day exhibit a wild, and in windy weather an awful appearance, to any one who may be travelling amongst them, whilst they are rocking to and fro, and successively falling down. Fields of wheat and other grain were beaten to pieces and destroyed; and hailstones remained in the valleys for many days. In April 1793 a similar storm swept through part of Orangeburgh and Ninety-six districts; and in 1797 one passed along the eastern side of Cooper River, lasting about half an hour, and depositing hailstones three inches in circumference, and six inches in depth on the ground. The grain in the fields, and vegetables in the gardens, were totally destroyed; and birds and poultry were killed.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0230">
0230
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
220
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
The commencement of the year 1800 was uncommonly cold, and several falls of snow took place in the months of January and February, some of which covered the grounds of the lower country six inches, and those of the upper country two or three feet deep, continuing on the latter for some weeks. During this time a remarkable sleet fell in a space from ten to fifteen miles wide, between Broad River and Savannah. Large concretions of ice were formed on the trees. The lesser ones were bent to the ground by their weight; but the full grown oaks, hickories, and other forest trees which did not bend, had their branches broken off in all directions, and the ground for miles was covered with their ruins. At this time the woods in that part of the State present a wild and mutilated appearance; the tops of the trees broken and unsightly, and their roots encumbered with dead fallen branches.
</p>
<p>
It also appears that the climate of South Carolina is peculiarly liable to sudden changes of temperature; that in one moment the body is relaxed by heat, and the next chilled by unexpected cold, Thus, profuse perspirations are checked; and unless the functions of the body are restored to their proper duties, a course of disorders commences, which sooner or later destroys the constitution. In tropical climates, it is said, the degrees of heat throughout the year do not vary
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0231">
0231
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
221
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
more than 16 degrees of Fahrenheit&apos;s thermometer, making thereby little difference between summer and winter. But in South Carolina there is often a variation of 83 degrees between the heat and cold of different days in the same year, in the space of seven months; and of 46 degrees in the different hours of the same day.
</p>
<p>
The following statement exhibits the greatest and least height of Fahrenheit&apos;s thermometer for several years:
</p>
<table entity="p0231">
<tabletext>
<cell>
Years.
</cell>
<cell>
Highest.
</cell>
<cell>
Lowest.
</cell>
<cell>
Years.
</cell>
<cell>
Highest.
</cell>
<cell>
Lowest.
</cell>
<cell>
1750
</cell>
<cell>
96
</cell>
<cell>
23
</cell>
<cell>
1759
</cell>
<cell>
93
</cell>
<cell>
28
</cell>
<cell>
1751
</cell>
<cell>
94
</cell>
<cell>
18
</cell>
<cell>
1791
</cell>
<cell>
90
</cell>
<cell>
28
</cell>
<cell>
1752
</cell>
<cell>
101
</cell>
<cell>
32
</cell>
<cell>
1792
</cell>
<cell>
93
</cell>
<cell>
30
</cell>
<cell>
1753
</cell>
<cell>
91
</cell>
<cell>
28
</cell>
<cell>
1793
</cell>
<cell>
89
</cell>
<cell>
30
</cell>
<cell>
1754
</cell>
<cell>
93
</cell>
<cell>
22
</cell>
<cell>
1794
</cell>
<cell>
91
</cell>
<cell>
34
</cell>
<cell>
1755
</cell>
<cell>
90
</cell>
<cell>
26
</cell>
<cell>
1795
</cell>
<cell>
92
</cell>
<cell>
29
</cell>
<cell>
1756
</cell>
<cell>
96
</cell>
<cell>
27
</cell>
<cell>
1796
</cell>
<cell>
89
</cell>
<cell>
17
</cell>
<cell>
1757
</cell>
<cell>
90
</cell>
<cell>
25
</cell>
<cell>
1797
</cell>
<cell>
88
</cell>
<cell>
22
</cell>
<cell>
1758
</cell>
<cell>
94
</cell>
<cell>
25
</cell>
<cell>
1798
</cell>
<cell>
88
</cell>
<cell>
31
</cell>
</tabletext>
</table>
<list type="simple"><head>
STATE OF THE WEATHER IN CHARLESTON FOR 1807, ENDING DECEMBER 31.
</head><item><p>Thermometer, highest 92&deg; 30&prime;
</p></item>
<item><p>Ditto lowest 24&deg;
</p></item>
<item><p>Ditto mean 58&deg; 15&prime;
</p></item>
<item><p>Barometer
<hsep>30&deg; 1&prime; to 30&deg; 77&prime;
</p></item>
<item><p>Hygrometer
<hsep>1 to 131
</p></item>
<item><p>Fall of rain
<hsep>42 inches 1&frac12;
</p></item>
<item><p>Prevailing winds
<hsep>N.E. S.W.
</p></item>
<item><p>Days of rain
<hsep>67
</p></item>
<item><p>Do. of thunder
<hsep>28
</p></item>
<item><p>Do. of snow
<hsep>2
</p></item>
</list>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0232">
0232
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
222
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
From the preceding statement it appears, that the greatest heat of South Carolina is eight degrees less than it was about half a century ago, and that the cold has increased one degree more. Without going, however, into nice disquisitions, whether the State is hotter or colder, more wet or more dry, than it was fifty years ago, its climate is doubtless in a state of progressive melioration. At its first settlement Charleston was said to be so unhealthy in the autumnal months, that from June to October the public offices were shut up, and the people retired into the country. Now the reverse happens, and planters come in those months to the city, but by far the greater number still remain in the country on their plantations. Charleston, however, is yet subject to epidemic fevers; but it seldom happens that the natives suffer from them; which has occasioned them to call the prevailing disease the &ldquo;Strangers&apos; Fever;&rdquo; and some of the inhabitants are absolutely of opinion, that if strangers were forbidden to visit the city during the autumnal months, the yellow fever would not make its appearance.
</p>
<p>
Whatever may be the severity of the seasons in South Carolina at particular times, yet it must be allowed that the climate is upon the whole agreeable and the winters remarkably fine. The upper country has, however, greatly the advantage of the lower parts of the State; and its inhabitants in general enjoy much better health; though
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0233">
0233
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
223
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
during the winter months strangers from the northern states resort much to Charleston for the recovery of their health, or to avoid the piercing coldness of their own climate at that season of the year.
</p>
<p>
During a part of the winter the mountains at the furthest boundary of South Carolina are often covered with snow; but from thence to the seashore it seldom falls. Whenever snow appears in the lower country, it mostly happens in the months of December and January, covering the ground perhaps not more than an inch, except on extraordinary occasions, and thawing with the first appearance of the sun. In those months also the greatest cold is perceivable; the ground is sometimes bound up with a pinching frost, which in shady places will not be thawed for several days; and the waters of ponds are then so frozen over, as at times to permit sliding and even skating on the ice. But this happens very rarely, and even then only for a few days; after which the weather becomes mild and warm, so as to render fires unnecessary during the middle of the day.
</p>
<p>
Throughout the winter sudden changes from heat to cold often take place, and very materially affect the feelings of the inhabitants. In February the weather is frequently rainy, and may be called uncertain; as sometimes it offers calm, clear, and fine growing weather, when all at once the expectations
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0234">
0234
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
224
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
of an early spring are checked by a north-west wind. The vegetation, however, may be said to commence in February; as at this time the red flowering maple is in full blossom, and soon after followed by the willow and alder. The plum and peach-trees now quietly put forth their blossoms, and nature clothes herself in cheerful verdure. In March and April the planters&apos; and farmers&apos; business commences; the planting season continuing until June. From that time, during July and August, the heats increase; and in the two latter months heavy rains set in, attended with severe thunder and lightning. In September the evenings and mornings are chilly; but the sun is extremely powerful in the middle of the day. The equinoctial influences are also at hand; storms of rain are produced, accompanied sometimes with hurricanes, which sweep tremendously along the coasts. The leaves of deciduous trees are now continually falling, and nature gradually assumes the sombre garb of winter, In October the weather is generally mild and clear; hoar frosts begin to make their appearance towards the latter end of this month; and with them, the fevers, agues, and other complaints engendered by the heats of summer, immediately disappear. The cold comes on in December, and vegetation is checked until the returning spring. Thus the year is closed in a manner peculiar to the varying climate of South Carolina.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0235">
0235
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
225
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<table entity="p0235">
<caption><p>
<hi rend="italics">
Accidents and Diseases which occasion Death; from the Bills of Mortality in Charleston.
</hi>
</p></caption>
<tabletext>
<cell>
Accidents and Diseases
</cell>
<cell>
1803
</cell>
<cell>
1804
</cell>
<cell>
1805
</cell>
<cell>
1806
</cell>
<cell>
1807
</cell>
<cell>
Febrde Diseases.
</cell>
<cell>
Endemial cases
</cell>
<cell>
19
</cell>
<cell>
148
</cell>
<cell>
40
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
162
</cell>
<cell>
Bilious inflammatory
</cell>
<cell>
75
</cell>
<cell>
133
</cell>
<cell>
155
</cell>
<cell>
125
</cell>
<cell>
205
</cell>
<cell>
Nervous or putrid
</cell>
<cell>
13
</cell>
<cell>
22
</cell>
<cell>
26
</cell>
<cell>
15
</cell>
<cell>
21
</cell>
<cell>
Small pox
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
13
</cell>
<cell>
31
</cell>
<cell>
26
</cell>
<cell>
Infantile diseases.
</cell>
<cell>
Diarrh&oelig; infantum
</cell>
<cell>
65
</cell>
<cell>
122
</cell>
<cell>
116
</cell>
<cell>
120
</cell>
<cell>
92
</cell>
<cell>
Croup
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
19
</cell>
<cell>
8
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
15
</cell>
<cell>
Convulsions
</cell>
<cell>
12
</cell>
<cell>
51
</cell>
<cell>
46
</cell>
<cell>
38
</cell>
<cell>
68
</cell>
<cell>
Overlaid
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
Teething
</cell>
<cell>
11
</cell>
<cell>
32
</cell>
<cell>
29
</cell>
<cell>
13
</cell>
<cell>
33
</cell>
<cell>
Stillborn
</cell>
<cell>
8
</cell>
<cell>
14
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
16
</cell>
<cell>
22
</cell>
<cell>
Thrush
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
Hydrocephalus
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
Whooping cough
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
64
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Worms
</cell>
<cell>
30
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
18
</cell>
<cell>
18
</cell>
<cell>
37
</cell>
<cell>
Intestinal diseases.
</cell>
<cell>
Dysentry
</cell>
<cell>
15
</cell>
<cell>
55
</cell>
<cell>
57
</cell>
<cell>
134
</cell>
<cell>
656
</cell>
<cell>
Colic
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
Hepatitis
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Cramp in stomach
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
Pulmonic affections.
</cell>
<cell>
Consumption
</cell>
<cell>
92
</cell>
<cell>
175
</cell>
<cell>
223
</cell>
<cell>
200
</cell>
<cell>
207
</cell>
<cell>
Debility
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
17
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
27
</cell>
<cell>
29
</cell>
<cell>
Pleurisy
</cell>
<cell>
10
</cell>
<cell>
28
</cell>
<cell>
75
</cell>
<cell>
76
</cell>
<cell>
65
</cell>
<cell>
Colds
</cell>
<cell>
12
</cell>
<cell>
32
</cell>
<cell>
78
</cell>
<cell>
38
</cell>
<cell>
49
</cell>
<cell>
Influenza
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
58
</cell>
<cell>
Asthma
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
8
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
9
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
Immorality
</cell>
<cell>
Intemperance
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
19
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
8
</cell>
<cell>
14
</cell>
<cell>
Hanged
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Murdered
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
Suicide
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
Carried forward
</cell>
<cell>
389
</cell>
<cell>
959
</cell>
<cell>
922
</cell>
<cell>
897
</cell>
<cell>
1787
</cell>
<cell>
Amount brought up.
</cell>
<cell>
389
</cell>
<cell>
959
</cell>
<cell>
922
</cell>
<cell>
897
</cell>
<cell>
1787
</cell>
<cell>
Apoplexy
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
22
</cell>
<cell>
11
</cell>
<cell>
11
</cell>
<cell>
19
</cell>
<cell>
Accident
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
11
</cell>
<cell>
17
</cell>
<cell>
11
</cell>
<cell>
20
</cell>
<cell>
Childbed
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
13
</cell>
<cell>
10
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
18
</cell>
<cell>
Dropsy
</cell>
<cell>
18
</cell>
<cell>
61
</cell>
<cell>
55
</cell>
<cell>
92
</cell>
<cell>
110
</cell>
<cell>
Drowned
</cell>
<cell>
13
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
8
</cell>
<cell>
14
</cell>
<cell>
9
</cell>
<cell>
Gout
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Imposthume
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
Inflammation
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
12
</cell>
<cell>
10
</cell>
<cell>
Insanity
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
10
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
Jaundice
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
King&apos;s evil
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
Mortification
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
9
</cell>
<cell>
Spasms
</cell>
<cell>
22
</cell>
<cell>
29
</cell>
<cell>
21
</cell>
<cell>
39
</cell>
<cell>
21
</cell>
<cell>
Mumps
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
Nervous headache
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Palsy
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
8
</cell>
<cell>
9
</cell>
<cell>
10
</cell>
<cell>
Hemorrhoids
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Rheumatism
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
Sore throat
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
6
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
5
</cell>
<cell>
12
</cell>
<cell>
Scarvy
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
12
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
9
</cell>
<cell>
16
</cell>
<cell>
Shot
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
7
</cell>
<cell>
4
</cell>
<cell>
Surfeit, and kine pock
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Rupture
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
10
</cell>
<cell>
Syphilis
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
3
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
Hydrophobia
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Gravel
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
2
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
Hemorrhage
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
1
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
&mdash;
</cell>
<cell>
Unknown
</cell>
<cell>
28
</cell>
<cell>
130
</cell>
<cell>
106
</cell>
<cell>
165
</cell>
<cell>
119
</cell>
<cell>
Total deaths
</cell>
<cell>
449
</cell>
<cell>
1267
</cell>
<cell>
1209
</cell>
<cell>
1296
</cell>
<cell>
2191
</cell>
</tabletext>
</table>
<p>
VOL. II
<hsep>
Q
</p>
</div>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0236">
0236
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
226
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXVI.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Journey from Charleston to Savannah on Foot&mdash;Four-Mile House&mdash;Ashley River&mdash;Rantowle&apos;s Creek&mdash;Pine Barrens&mdash;Live Oaks&mdash;Moss&mdash;Solitary Walk through the Woods&mdash;Lose my Way&mdash;Meet a Negro&mdash;Arrive at the
</hi>
 23 
<hi rend="italics">
Mile House&mdash;Tavern-keeper&mdash;Anecdote of Mr. C&mdash;Resume my Journey the next Morning&mdash;Overtake a travelling Negro&mdash;Arrive at the Village of Jachsonborough&mdash;Dine there&mdash;Get into the Stage&mdash;Fellow Passengers&mdash;A French Traveller&mdash;His Opinion of the Americans&mdash;Buonaparte&apos;s Death&mdash;A new Revolution in France&mdash;Pocotaligo&mdash;Coosywhatchie&mdash;Arrive at Purrysburgh&mdash;Col. Purry&mdash;Indian Tumuli&mdash;Negro Boat Song.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
I had
</hi>
 remained at Charleston upwards of two months, when I came to the whimsical resolution of taking a journey of 120 miles on foot to Savannah in Georgia. The weather was fine, though at times rather too warm. The road which I had to travel lay through a dreary and extensive forest of pine-trees, or, as it is termed by the Carolinians, a 
<hi rend="italics">
pine barren
</hi>
, where a habitation is seldom seen except at intervals of ten or twelve miles.
</p>
<pageinfo>
<controlpgno entity="p0237">
0237
</controlpgno>
<printpgno>
227
</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
<p>
I should have been glad, could I have procured a companion: but those to whom I proposed the journey, instead of accepting, endeavoured to persuade me from it; and mentioned the lonely and dreary woods through which I must walk so many miles, without, perhaps, meeting a human being. But at that time was enthusiastically bent on my project. I had even formed, in my own mind, a determination to return from Charleston to New York on foot, though a distance of more than 700 miles; and for this purpose I intended my excursion to Savannah as a kind of preparatory journey, which would inure me to the fatigue of walking so many miles, and at the same time give me an idea of a great portion of the country through which I must pass. With this view, I furnished myself with a light dress; and as I expected to meet with a friend at Savannah, I did not encumber myself with a supply of linen: I therefore took nothing more than the clothes I had on, and a stout stick, and on the 10th of March, about ten in the forenoon, set out from Charleston. I availed myself of the opportunity of leaving town the day before the stage which runs that road twice a week, in order that, if the journey became irksome, or the weather proved indifferent, I might get up and ride.
</p>
<p>
For the first ten miles out of Charleston, the road is very much cut up by the country waggons,
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and the sand is deep and heavy. I walked to the four-mile house in an hour, though every step I took the sand was above my ancles. The 
<hi rend="italics">
Four-Mile House
</hi>
 is a large handsome tavern, and much frequented by the inhabitants of Charleston, who ride out there for recreation in the afternoon, particularly on Sundays. It is chiefly the resort of the middling classes; the gentry seldom or never visit it. Between the tavern and Charleston, the road is lined with the hedges and fences belonging to several handsome plantations: the houses are, however, seldom seen, being built a considerable distance back.
</p>
<p>
From the 
<hi rend="italics">
four
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 to the 
<hi rend="italics">
eight-mile house
</hi>
, the road lies in some places through a wood, in others by the side of plantations, but the scenery is dull and monotonous; a few indifferent buildings are all that appear, at long intervals, among the trees. About a mile beyond the 
<hi rend="italics">
eight-mile house
</hi>
, the road suddenly turns off to the left, towards Ashley ferry, and to the right towards Dorchester and Orangeburgh. The scene that presented itself, when I reached this turning on the left, was extremely beautiful, and formed a striking contrast to the dreary sameness of the wood which I had just passed through. The road descended gradually between a fine grove of trees for about a quarter of a mile, when it suddenly opened into an expansive savannah or rice swamp, upwards of six miles in
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circumference. Several large plantations and handsome houses are situated on the border of this extensive plain, and behind them the scene is closed by the surrounding forests. The river Ashley, which runs through this swamp, springs from the Cypress and other swamps towards Monk&apos;s Corner in the lower country, and empties itself into Charleston harbour at the southern side of the city. Its width opposite Charleston is about 2,100 yards, and its stream narrows but little for several miles; it is navigable for ships a few miles up, and for sloops and schooners to a considerable distance. On the western bank of this river the first efficient settlement of the State was made, at a place now called 
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Old Town
</hi>
, or 
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Old Charlestown
</hi>
, in 1671, by a small colony sent out under Governor Sayle.
</p>
<p>
The road across the swamp is well kept up by large pieces of timber, piles, &amp;c. which raise it several feet higher than the surface of the swamp, though in the spring and fall of the year it is sometimes overflowed. The soil is of a dark brown loam, and apparently very rich. A considerable part was drained off for working, but the remainder was covered with long grass, flags, and reeds.
</p>
<p>
Having passed the river in a flat-bottomed scow secured by a rope stretched from shore to shore, I went into the ferry-house, which is also a small
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tavern. It was then near one o&apos;clock, and I would willingly have taken some refreshment, had not the landlord assured me that he had not a morsel of bread in the house; I however procured a glass of brandy and water, and immediately proceeded on my journey. I struck into a thick 
<hi rend="italics">
pine barren
</hi>
 which lay before me, and through which a narrow road was cut. The soil was of a light sandy nature, and the smooth and even road, so different from that over which I had passed, plainly denoted how little it was disturbed by waggons, or carriages of any description; and showed that the further I went the more solitary and lonely I should find my journey. Indeed, the whole of the road from Ashley ferry to Savannah river, a distance of 90 miles, is scarcely ever traversed by any other vehicle than the stagecoach, or occasionally the carriage of a planter.
</p>
<p>
I arrived about half-past two at Rantowle&apos;s Creek, a distance of 16 miles from Charleston. This creek is a branch of the Stone River, and runs through an immense swamp. It has a pleasing effect, after being shut up for several miles in a thick forest, to emerge all at once into a broad open space covered only with grass or reeds; the eye is thus agreeably relieved from the dull sameness of the pine grove. I went into a tavern which stands near the creek, to see what I could obtain for dinner: I soon found that the larder
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was not very plentifully supplied, but after a little search a wild duck was procured and dressed: this, with a bottle of London porter, afforded me a much better repast than I expected to meet with in such a solitary place.
</p>
<p>
About half-past three I again set forward on my route, and before I had gone a quarter of a mile was clear of the swamp, and once more under the shade of the lofty pine trees. The day was uncommonly fine; and though the sun was very powerful, I suffered but little inconvenience from it, as the pine trees afforded me an excellent shelter; they, in fact, formed one continual grove as far as the eye could reach. The road was narrow, and nearly as level as a bowling-green; the soil varied in different places, but in general it was a light sandy earth, and free from stones. I had now fairly entered the 
<hi rend="italics">
pine barrens
</hi>
, and never felt myself more disposed for gloomy reflections than while passing through these lonely wildernesses. A habitation is seldom seen, except at intervals of ten or twelve miles, or when you approach a savannah or swamp; for the plantations are all settled a considerable distance from the road, and paths of communication are cut through the woods; so that, in travelling through the southern states, you are enveloped in almost one continued forest. A contrary practice is adopted in the northern and middle states, where
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a succession of farms, meadows, gardens, and habitations, continually meet the eye of the traveller; and if hedges were substituted for rail fences, those States would very much resemble some of the English counties.
</p>
<p>
The pine barrens are without any stones on their surface, for eighty miles or more from the sea. The land rises by an almost imperceptible ascent to that distance, where the elevation is said to be near two hundred feet above the level of the ocean, and forms the boundary between the middle and lower parts of the State. Through this tract of country the pine barrens have little or no underwood, some species of shrub oak excepted, the ground being generally covered with coarse wild grasses. This is probably not its natural appearance, but is caused by the custom of burning the dry grass in the spring, in order to hasten early pasturage, at the same time destroying the young shrubs, which would otherwise shoot up and form a thick underwood between the pines. From this practice, the forests frequently exhibit on each side the road a dismal appearance, from the great number of trees half burnt and scorched and blacked by the fire; others lying on the ground, or ready to fall with the first high wind; and in several places it is rather hazardous travelling in stormy weather. Almost every week the driver of the stage coach
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has to cut away large trunks or branches that have fallen across the road; or, if there is an opening sufficiently wide among the trees, he chooses rather to go round than trouble himself to use his axe.
</p>
<p>
The pines are chiefly of the pitch and yellow species, and grow to the height of 100 feet and more, with a handsome straight stem, two-thirds of which, upwards, are free from branches. They make excellent masts and timber for vessels, and yield abundance of pitch, tar, rosin, and turpentine. The stumps of several which had been cut down were covered with the resinous matter that had been extracted from the top by the heat of the sun. Where the soil improves, which is sometimes the case even in the midst of these barrens, the eye is relieved from the monotonous solemnity of the lofty pine, by a variety of other trees, consisting principally of live oak; red, white, and chesnut oaks; hickory, elm, beech, maple, &amp;c. and numerous shrubs, plants, and flowers. In several places, natural hedges are formed of the shrubs and underwood that escape the ravages of fire; these are intermingled with a variety of flowers, among which the honey suckles, woodbines, and yellow jasmines are most conspicuous. When I passed, they were in full blossom, and the flowers at once pleased the eye, and impregnated the air with their delightful odours.
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<p>
The Carolina live oak is interspersed among the pines in different parts of the country, and particularly along the road. This tree is an evergreen, and bears a small leaf resembling the myrtle. It is the most durable oak in the country, and almost as heavy as lignum vit&aelig;. Its parts have also such adhesion, that it will not split, and a nail once driven into it is with difficulty extracted. Its trunk is short, sometimes six or seven feet in diameter, and its large crooked branches will frequently spread over near half an acre of ground: it is much used in ship-building. Besides this, Carolina possesses upwards of twenty other species of oak. Upon the live oak there grows a remarkable long moss, of a light gray colour, which blossoms in May. This moss adheres also to several of the pine-trees in the vicinity of the live oaks, but it is more particularly attached to the latter. To my eye, it had a very disagreeable effect, as it resembled a quantity of loose tow that had clung to the trees and encumbered their branches: many persons, however, think that it gives the forests of the new world a venerable aspect. The branches of several trees, from which this moss was suspended in great quantities, were destitute of leaves, and appeared in a decayed state. I have not been able to ascertain whether this was occasioned by the moss, but there was every appearance of it. This moss is a native
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only of low, flat, and marshy soils, and in South Carolina is not found beyond the falls of the rivers: several attempts have been made to propagate it in the upper country, but without success. It grows abundantly in the forests of Louisiana. The inhabitants of Carolina fill their mattresses, beds, and pillows with it; and in hard winters it often affords an excellent food for cattle.
</p>
<p>
As I proceeded on my journey, the pine-trees, which have their branches towards their summits, formed a complete grove over my head, and almost excluded the sky from my view: in the morning this shady walk was extremely pleasant, but as the day began to close I would willingly have preferred a less gloomy retreat. Every step I took was still the same, and nothing disturbed the solemn silence of the forest, save the whistling murmurs of the wind, the skipping of a few deer across the road, and the rustling of the black snakes amid the grass and fallen branches of the trees. Now and then, indeed, the crash of an enormous pine-tree tumbling to the earth would ruffle the stillness which prevailed, and arouse me from a reverie of thought into which I had fallen, as I pensively measured my steps through the gloomy wilderness; but the sound, after reverberating for a few seconds, died away in distant murmurs through the woods, and all was again silent.
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<p>
Since leaving Rantowle&apos;s Creek I had neither met a single human being, nor caught the least glimpse of a habitation; not even the welcome sound of the negro&apos;s axe ever came to delight my ear and cheer my spirits; and though I continued to advance mile after mile, yet no termination appeared to the road, nor did any other branch off from it: all was one straight, even path, and I had no other alternative but to proceed in a direct line or turn back. The sun was just going down, heavy dews were beginning to rise, and all around was awfully solemn. I had thus proceeded till near six o&apos;clock, expecting every moment to reach the twenty-three mile house, where I meant to take up my abode for the night,&mdash;when I came to a place where the road branched off in two directions. There was no finger-post to direct me which to take; nor was there a human being at hand to whom I could apply for information. It was nearly dusk, and I had no time to hesitate; so at hazard I took the road which turned off to the left. This road exactly resembled that over which I had passed so many miles; but neither house nor plantation appeared in sight, though from the remarkable evenness of the road I could see a very considerable distance: the prospect, however, was terminated only by the tall pine-trees. After walking about half an hour without coming up to the tavern as I expected, I began to hesitate about
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going any further, for I knew not whither the road led, as it was not laid down in the map of South Carolina which I had with me. I felt extremely tired; and I believe the anxiety I suffered at the uncertainty of my situation contributed not a little to heighten my fatigue. I however determined to proceed, and consoled myself with the idea that the road was not made without an object, and must therefore lead to some plantation or village. The prospect of having to pass the night in the woods made me quicken my steps, though every step I took was a painful exertion.
</p>
<p>
I had continued my hasty strides for about a mile, when at a considerable distance I perceived a negro with a couple of horses coming towards me. This was a welcome sight: I immediately hastened to meet him; and on his coming up inquired whether I was in the right road for the twenty-three mile house. To my infinite mortification and disappointment he replied that I should have taken the other; and that if I had continued the way I was going, I should not have seen a house for sixteen miles. I had now no other resource but to return back about four miles, and therefore requested the negro to let me ride his master&apos;s horse, with which he was returning home: to this he consented, and I very gladly jumped upon his back. As we rode along he showed me the place where he should turn off, after he had
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set me down at the end of the road. I was not surprised that I had never discerned this opening in the forest, so completely was the spot enveloped by trees; nor was there any path from which a stranger could suspect that he was in the neighbourhood of a large plantation.
</p>
<p>
The Carolinians are very expert at hunting deer on horseback, and proceed through these woods with great velocity and dexterity. They are likewise so well acquainted with the country, that they never lose themselves, but travel from plantation to plantation, through many parts in which a stranger would be completely bewildered.
</p>
<p>
Having arrived at the end of the road, I dismounted, gave the friendly negro a shilling for his civility, and set forward with hasty steps for the twenty-three mile house, where I arrived between seven and eight o&apos;clock. By this time the day was completely closed; and the moon, which was nearly at the full, was just rising. I was heartily rejoiced when I entered the house, and sat down to rest my weary limbs, for I was unaccustomed to pedestrian journeys, and had walked upwards of twenty-seven miles since ten o&apos;clock, four of which were in the 
<hi rend="italics">
wrong
</hi>
 road. It was a fortunate circumstance that I had not undertaken my journey a week before, as I should have been disappointed of a night&apos;s lodging at this house; the family who now occupied it having been in only
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five days, previous to which it had stood empty above a fortnight.
</p>
<p>
The twenty-three mile house can scarcely he called a tavern, as the few travellers who frequent this road seldom or never stop there; but a change of horses is kept in an adjoining stable for the stage coach. I found my host to be a very intelligent friendly man; he received me cordially, and promised me the best entertainment his house afforded. His wife immediately got tea ready, and fried some eggs and bacon as an accompaniment, which she performed tolerably well, with two or three children squalling at her heels. The building, which was constructed of logs, consisted of four rooms on one floor, and the interstices between the logs not being filled up with clay or moss, the evening dew and the light of the moon found a ready admittance into our apartment: we however had a cheerful fire, and I considered myself extremely fortunate in getting under cover.
</p>
<p>
After tea, or rather supper, my host, who appeared somewhat above the ordinary cast of tavern-keepers, entertained me with an account of himself, and the motives which led him to take that house. He told me that he was a native of Guernsey, which island he had left about fourteen years ago to settle in America, where he flattered himself, like many others, with the idea
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of making a rapid fortune and returning home again. When he arrived at Charleston he was worth about 1500
<hi rend="italics">
l.
</hi>
; but he confessed, with much regret, that he was not now worth so many dollars. Though he had letters to a very respectable family, who did all they could to serve him, yet he was unfortunate in his speculations; and finding the land of that nature that it could not be worked without a large capital, and living being very expensive, he became an overseer on a plantation. The last planter he lived with was Mr. R&mdash;S&mdash;h, who resided some distance off, and with whom he had been upwards of three years. During that time he had acquired a couple of negroes of his own, who worked occasionally for Mr. S&mdash;h; but that gentleman at length refusing to give them the same allowance of corn as his own slaves, he had left his service within the last five days, and taken the twenty-three mile house till he could get into the employ of another planter.
</p>
<p>
This man gave me a melancholy account of the ravages which the fever and ague make upon the constitutions of the white people settled in these parts of the country, every summer and autumn. He and his family were always attacked with those disorders, which were more or less severe according to the temperature of the seasons. The lower class of people are also accustomed to live so much
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upon-dried salted meat and fish, that with the attacks of the fever and ague their countenances assume a pale sallow hue, and their bodies are often reduced to mere skeletons. If the white people can recover from these repeated attacks upon their health, they may stand a chance of realizing considerable property; and he informed me that several of the present rich planters of South Carolina were formerly overseers.
</p>
<p>
He told me of a young gentleman, the son of a respectable French family in Charleston, who, fired with euthusiasm in the cause of the French revolution, would not rest till he had entered the French army, which was then fighting on the frontiers of the kingdom against the combined powers of the continent. For this purpose, and contrary to the wishes of his parents, he went to Guernsey, where he became acquainted with my informant, at whose house he resided till a convenient opportunity offered for him to reach the French coast. In the mean time he was apprehended by the governor, and sent to England on suspicion of being a French spy. He however contrived to make his escape, and went back again to his friend in Guernsey, who concealed him in his house upwards of six weeks disguised in women&apos;s clothes. At length, having purchased an open boat, they both embarked in the night, and went over to the coast of France. The young
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man immediately joined the French army on the frontiers, and was killed about six months afterwards. He had given my host letters to his friends in Charleston, and from the representations he gave of America, the former was induced to emigrate to that country. In 1794 he arrived at Charleston. The young man&apos;s friends received him with much attention, and did every thing in their power to forward his views, but without success.
</p>
<p>
I retired to rest about ten o&apos;clock, but did not lie very comfortably, as the camp bedstead, which had been placed in the room for my accommodation, was unfortunately half a leg too short. It was, however, so much superior to a night&apos;s lodging in a tree, which I had narrowly escaped, that I should have been ungrateful to have complained of my situation.
</p>
<p>
The next morning I arose at six, and, having breakfasted, again set forward on my journey. It was a beautiful morning, and I felt the want of nothing but a pleasant companion, to whom I might communicate my thoughts: without this, travelling is dreary and melancholy, even in the best cultivated parts of America: but with a fellow-traveller I should have no objection to 
<hi rend="italics">
walk
</hi>
 from one end of the Union to the other: from Brewster&apos;s in Maine to St. Mary&apos;s in Georgia; from the shores of Philadelphia to the banks of the Ohio.
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<p>
After walking two or three miles I came to a large plantation. Here the negroes were employed in hoeing the earth, clearing the neighbouring forests, and carrying the wood upon their heads to different parts for the purpose of fencing in the grounds; men, women and children were all busily engaged under the superintendence of an overseer. The house, which was but indifferent, stood a considerable distance from the road. I saw no cattle or poultry of any description; indeed, a plantation has very rarely the comfortable appearance of a farm.
</p>
<p>
A little further I overtook a negro with a basket on his head returning to Ashepoo from Charleston, where he had been to dispose of some poultry and game. I had passed this negro yesterday, just after quitting Charleston; and at the time I lost my way he most probably passed along the other road, as he slept at the plantation just beyond the twenty-three mile house. This man told me that he generally went twice a-week from Ashepoo to Charleston, a distance of fifty miles, with poultry and game, to sell at market for his master, who was a planter. He brought back whatever the family wanted from the city; and he always made these journeys on foot without shoe or stocking. He was a very civil fellow, and I found his company by no means despicable in the midst of a
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dreary pine barren. He was about forty years old, and a native of the country. He seemed happy and contented with his situation, and perfectly resigned to his destiny.
</p>
<p>
The scene along this road was very little different to that of yesterday; but I was oftener saluted with the sound of the woodman&apos;s axe, though frequently at a considerable distance. A great number of red and blue birds, about the size of a thrush, appeared among the trees, and enlivened the woods with their gay plumage and cheerful notes. I saw few other birds, the season being rather too early for the appearance of that variety with which this State abounds.
</p>
<p>
About 12 o&apos;clock I arrived at Jacksonborough, having passed the Edisto river in a ferry-boat, within a quarter of a mile of the village. At this river, as well as at Rantowle&apos;s creek, there are bridges; but both are damaged by the freshes, or high tides, which take place in the spring of the year. The Edisto is shallow, and incapable of being navigated far up its stream by boats of heavy burthen. In a full river the navigation of its northern branch is open as far as Orangeburgh; and its southern branch is also navigable some miles, until it is interrupted by many islands and shoals, which at one place are thickly scattered in the rive. When the river is low, it is fordable at Parker&apos;s ferry, about thirty-five miles from the
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sea; and during the revolutionary war field pieces were dragged across its channel in that place. This river takes its rise in the middle country, from the ridge of high land which lies between the Congaree and Savannah rivers.
</p>
<p>
Jacksonborough is a small village containing about twenty or thirty houses. It was much larger; but a fire some years ago destroyed several buildings, and they have not since been rebuilt. The houses have small pieces of ground and gardens attached to them; but very little land is cleared in the vicinity of the place. In 1782, when Charleston was in the hands of the British troops, the different branches of the State government were convened here; and in this place the acts of confiscation and banishment were passed against citizens of the state who were unfriendly to the American revolution.
</p>
<p>
I stopped at the only tavern in the village, and shortly after the stage coach from Charleston came up to the door. The passengers alighted, and staid here to dine: I followed their example; and when the stage was ready to depart I got in with them, intending only to go as far as Pocotaligo, about thirty miles from Jacksonborough, where we should put up for the night. I was the more inclined to this, as I should start fresh the next morning, after resting a considerable time from the fatigues of the preceding days.
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<p>
The passengers in the stage were an American lady and two children; two Frenchmen and two Americans. The coach was the same kind as those used in the northern states, open in front, and with leather curtains let down at the back and sides. As there were nine of us including the driver, who sat on the front seat, the coach was pretty well filled. After travelling a few miles I found my thin dress was too cool for riding, particularly as the weather became cloudy, and threatened to rain. Unfortunately I had not scrambled like the rest to get a birth on one of the back seats, by which I might have been sheltered from the cold breeze which now began to spring up. I was therefore obliged to sit in front; and though the rest were all muffled up in thick great coats, not one of them had the politeness to offer to change places with me. However, I was determined, when we alighted, that my civility should not prevent me, as it had done at Jacksonborough, from procuring a more comfortable seat. About a mile from Jacksonborough there is a small church, the first I had seen since leaving Charleston: it is situated in a small burying-ground, in a retired and romantic spot amidst the forest. It serves the inhabitants for many miles round as a place of worship; but I know not to what sect it belongs.
</p>
<p>
One of the French gentlemen had lately arrived
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from Bourdeaux, and the other from Martinique. As there was but little general conversation, the Americans were not very loquacious and the Frenchmen conversed mostly by themselves. Their conversation, which was chiefly on American subjects and politics, was highly amusing to me. The one from Bourdeaux, I found, was a traveller; but I could not learn his name, though I had some reason to believe that he was the celebrated naturalist Michaux; who, as well as his father, has travelled much over the American states. I recollected his face at New York, and soon learnt that he had arrived there from Bourdeaux in 1807. He had travelled from New York to Charleston by land within the last three weeks. He made several observations upon the Americans, and complained much of the rudeness of the lower orders of the people. &ldquo;The liberty of the Americans,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;degenerates into impertinence: theirs is not the 
<hi rend="italics">
liberty
</hi>
 of the soul, but its insolence. The driver sat down to the same table with us at dinner: this he would not have dared to do had he known his company to be persons of distinction or rich planters. The rich, therefore, in this land of liberty are relieved from the insolence of the lower orders, but strangers and the middling classes are obliged to suffer.&rdquo; This practice of the driver taking his meals at the same table with his passengers I never met with
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except in South Carolina and Georgia. In the northern states I was always treated with the greatest civility by the stage-coachmen, who seldom or never came into the same room with the passengers, much less sat down to dinner with them. It was, however, curious enough to hear a Frenchman, who might naturally be supposed to have fraternized for the last seventeen years with the lowest dregs of his own countrymen, complaining of the rudeness and brutality of the common people in America towards gentlemen. From some observations which afterwards fell from him, it appeared, that though partial to the revolution, he was no friend to the existing government of France.
</p>
<p>
He spoke severely against the despotism of Bonaparte, who he said had trampled upon the liberties of his country, and deceived the people by the false glare of martial achievements. &ldquo;Into what a deplorable state of anarchy and confusion,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;will our unfortunate country be thrown when that tyrant dies! It will be torn to pieces by his relations and generals, all of whom will think they have an equal right to govern. The people will not know whom to trust, or in whom to confide their liberties. The nation will be convulsed to the centre: the reign of terror will again commence, and hosts of external foes will attempt to wrest from France the countries which the present
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chief has so unjustly acquired; and, when once success has emboldened them, who shall say where they will stop! Then will they indeed retaliate upon unfortunate France the evils which her revolution, like the opening of Pandora&apos;s box, has spread over the face of the globe. I hope,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;for the sake of my country, that I may prove a bad prophet; but, when Bonaparte is no more, I cannot see how, or in what manner, such a state of things can be avoided. At present, he is the life and soul of every thing around him; the pivot upon which all things move; the great corner stone of the gigantic fabric, which he has raised to immortalize his name. Take him away, and the whole building must inevitably tumble into one undistinguished mass of ruins.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
I could not help admiring the justness of his remarks; and, if we look into the history of nations, we shall find that events, such as he predicts, have generally followed the ambitious aggrandizement of those individuals who have trampled upon the liberties of mankind for the purpose of immortalizing themselves as heroes and demigods.
</p>
<p>
The French gentleman declared that the English government was the best in the world. It was indeed at times liable to be abused; but the
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spirit of the people, originating from the nature of their constitution, would never suffer it to enslave them, or materially injure their liberties. The American government, he said, wanted stability; it depended too much upon the will of the mob; but next to the English government he preferred it to any other. When settled, he intended to reside in England, until France should be restored to her legitimate form of government; at present, he said, all countries were alike to him, who was a traveller.
</p>
<p>
The other gentleman formerly resided in Martinique, but for several years past had settled in Georgia as a planter. He was now returning home from a visit which he had made to that island upon some mercantile concerns: and, from what I could learn of his sentiments, he was strongly attached to the American government.
</p>
<p>
We arrived at Pocotaligo about nine o&apos;clock, and stopped at a miserable post-house or tavern. The stage from Savannah had arrived two or three hours before us; and there being several passengers in it, all the beds were occupied, and most of the provisions consumed. We were therefore obliged to proceed on to Coosywhatchie, about six miles further, where we procured accommodations for the night. The mail bag, which is carried by the stage, is opened at Pocotaligo, and
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the letters sorted for the post-office at Coosywhatchie. The coaches also meet at the former place, and receive each other&apos;s passengers.
</p>
<p>
Coosywhatchie is a small village, 73 miles from Charleston, containing a tavern, a post-office, two or three stores, and a few farm houses. The place retains its ancient name from a nation of Coosah Indians who formerly resided on the spot. It is in the neighbourhood of a small river navigable for vessels of light burthen, and several rich planters reside within the circumference of a few miles, in the vicinity of this village.
</p>
<p>
Unfortunately for the continuation of my pedestrian excursion, the weather next morning appeared extremely unfavourable. The sky was lowering, and large black clouds surcharged with their fluid matter seemed ready to burst every moment over our heads. As I had no inclination for a romantic tour through the woods, on foot, during a thunder-storm or violent hurricane, which are very common in this country, I thought it more advisable to proceed in the coach. I accordingly took care to secure a more comfortable seat than fell to my lot the day before, and at seven o&apos;clock we left Coosywhatchie.
</p>
<p>
About a mile from the village we once more entered the pine barrens, but the sameness of the road was at times relieved by an open swamp, in the neighbourhood of a small stream; and in those
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places we generally saw a few plantations, and now and then a handsome house. The wooden bridges over the small rivers were very dangerous, being composed only of a few loose planks, with openings wide enough for a horse&apos;s leg to slip through; we however met with no accident, and the road in general was uncommonly good. A number of deer, which had been started most probably by hunters in the forest, bounded across the road in several places, as we passed along. The storm which appeared likely to have descended upon us in the early part of the morning, now dissolved into small mizzling rain; and on our arrival at Purrysburgh at one o&apos;clock it increased to a heavy shower. The weather also became unpleasantly cold, and we were happy to get by the side of a good fire to warm ourselves.
</p>
<p>
The house where we stopped to dine belonged to the driver of the coach, and his wife had every thing ready for us upwards of two hours before our arrival. Purrysburgh is a paltry village, situated near the banks of the Savannah river, about 97 miles from Charleston, and 23 from the town of Savannah. It contains scarcely a dozen houses, and they are occupied by the poorer sort of people. The tumuli of an Indian nation, which formerly resided here, are still visible, and carefully preserved by the inhabitants. Purrysburgh was originally a place of some note, from a colony of
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Swiss, which was established there for the purpose of cultivating silk and vineyards. It was named after Colonel John Peter Purry, a Swiss officer, who effected the settlement under the British government about eighty years ago. At one time a considerable quantity of silk was raised in South Carolina and Georgia, but it has since given place to the more lucrative productions of cotton and rice. The soil and climate are allowed to be well adapted to the raising of silk. Mulberry-trees grow spontaneously in various places, and native silk worms, producing well-formed cocoons, are often found in the woods.
</p>
<p>
The stage coach proceeds no further than Purrysburgh, a boat being provided to Carry the mail and passengers down the river to Savannah, a distance of 25 miles. The State pays 1500 dollars per annum for the carriage of the mail, so that the comfort of passengers is often less regarded by the proprietors than the bag of letters. It happened unluckily for me, there were so many passengers, and so much baggage, that the usual covered boat was too small to hold us, and the conductor of the mail was obliged to procure a large canoe, but without any awning or shelter whatever. This was no very agreeable conveyance for twenty-five miles in rainy weather, and I was in doubt whether to go with them, or stay for a more favourable opportunity; but, having borrowed a
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great coat from the boatman, I embarked with the rest.
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We started from Purrysburgh about two o&apos;clock, and were rowed by four negroes, for canoes are not paddled here as in Canada. They seemed to be jolly fellows, and rowed lustily to a boat-song of their own composing. The words were given out by one of them, and the rest joined chorus at the end of every line. It began in the following manner:
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CHORUS.
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&ldquo;We are going down to Georgia, boys,
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Aye, aye,
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To see the pretty girls, boys;
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Yoe, yoe.
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We&apos;ll give &apos;em a pint of brandy, boys;
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Aye, aye.
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And a hearty kiss besides, boys.
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Yoe, yoe.
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&amp;c. &amp;c. &amp;c.&rdquo;
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</p>
<p>
The tune of this ditty was rather monotonous, but had a pleasing effect, as they kept time with it at every stroke of their oars. The words were mere nonsense; any thing, in fact, which came into their heads. I however remarked that brandy was very frequently mentioned, and it was understood as a hint to the passengers to give them a dram. We had supplied ourselves with this article at Purrysburgh, and were not sparing of it to the negroes, in order to encourage them to row quick. During the passage it rained incessantly, and prevented me from seeing the river to advantage. By the time we arrived at Savannah
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it was nearly dark, and our rowers, who were pretty far gone, in consequence of their frequent libations of brandy, had nearly upset the canoe, under the cable of a ship which was lying off the town. At length we all landed in safety near the Exchange, and in company with one of the American gentlemen I proceeded immediately to Colonel Shelman&apos;s hotel.
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXVII.
</head>
<p>
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Savannah&mdash;Col. Shelman&apos;s Hotel&mdash;Yazoo Bubble&mdash;Character of the Georgians&mdash;Settlement of Georgia&mdash;Augusta&mdash;St. Mary&apos;s&mdash;Town of Savannah&mdash;Houses&mdash;Streets&mdash;Pride of India&mdash;Promenade&mdash;The Exchange&mdash;Assembly-Room&mdash;Population of Savannah&mdash;Burying-Ground&mdash;Hurricane of
</hi>
 1806&mdash;
<hi rend="italics">
Arts and Sciences&mdash;Military Force&mdash;Religion&mdash;American Fanaticism&mdash;Camp Meetings&mdash;Blasphemous Scenes&mdash;Midnight Orgies in the Forest, compared with the gentle and sublime Conduct of the Redeemer&mdash;Mild Doctrines of Christianity&mdash;The Christian Religion, a Religion of Charity and Benevolence to all the World.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
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The
</hi>
 hotel of Colonel Shelman affords better accommodation than any other house of the kind in Savannah; but there are two or three genteel boarding-houses for those who prefer living in private. The Colonel received me very politely; but I had scarcely sat down, when he entered upon politics, condemned the embargo, which he declared would ruin him and his family, and deprecated the conduct of Mr. Jefferson and the
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government. At first I was cautious how I entered into conversation with him, for I had frequently met with democrats, who threw out a few words to sound the sentiments of people, and, if they did not happen to coincide with their principles, would abuse them unmercifully. But happening to espy a portrait of General Washington in the room, my doubts ceased, and upon a little conversation with him, I found that he was a staunch federalist. He had formerly been a Colonel in the continental army, under Washington; and, like all the old officers of that army, was firmly attached to the political principles of his great leader.
</p>
<p>
He had resided several years in the back country as a planter, but had lately come to Savannah to try his success in a tavern. The house which he took not being large enough, he built another close to it. This he has fitted up with 
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separate
</hi>
 sleeping rooms, which are very seldom met with in the taverns of this part of the country. A large hall below serves as a refectory; and at eight o&apos;clock we sat down in this room to supper. There were upwards of twenty gentlemen present, some of whom lodged in the house, and others who merely took their meals there; the latter were principally clerks in the State bank and other offices. Here I met with several gentlemen who had come to Savannah to collect in
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the outstanding debts which were owing to them when in business several years past. Among the rest was Mr. M&apos;C&mdash;, the old gentleman whom I before mentioned as speculating so unfortunately in his courtship with Mrs. S. of Charleston. He resides in England, but occasionally takes a voyage to America to recover his property. He, as well as the other gentlemen, complained much of the backwardness of the planters of Carolina and Georgia in paying their debts; and though they had put the accounts into lawyers&apos; hands, the money came in very slowly. They complained greatly of the embargo, which had increased the difficulty of recovering their debts, particularly since the judges of the courts of law in Georgia had put a stop, for a certain period, to the levying of executions in that State.
</p>
<p>
If the statements of several persons with whom I conversed while I remained at Colonel Shelman&apos;s, are to be credited, the people of Georgia are indolent and dissipated; not very scrupulous as to their moral character; fond of money to excess, but careless by what means it is obtained. Even in a public capacity, they will frequently resort to means not the most honourable, as was the case in the Yazoo Bubble, which will be an everlasting stain upon the character of their government. In the year 1795 the State of Georgia, under the great seal, and signed by Governor Matthews,
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granted and sold to certain individuals, associated in companies, by the title of the &ldquo;Georgia Company,&rdquo; &ldquo;Georgia Mississippi Company,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Tennessee Company,&rdquo; a vast tract of land lying within the limits of Georgia, for the consideration of a sum of money to be paid into the treasury of that State. Many individuals purchased lands from the different companies, at a great price, and settlements were rapidly taking place, when the whole scheme was at once blown to atoms. The purchase-money had scarcely been paid into the treasury by the respective companies, when Governor Matthews quitted his office, and was succeeded by a man of the name of Jackson, remarkable for his violent antipathy to the federal party and all their measures. No sooner was he established in his government, than he caused a bill to pass the legislature, declaring the sale of the Yazoo lands illegal and void. He next seized the records, and burnt them before the courthouse in the presence of a majority of the assembly, who applauded the action. In vain did the purchasers and every honest man remonstrate against such an infamous proceeding, but neither money nor land could they obtain. The State of Georgia afterwards made over the lands to the United States, leaving it to the general government to satisfy the claims of the creditors. But though it is now eighteen years since this nefarious
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transaction took place, their claims yet remain unliquidated, and even opposed by a majority of the house of representatives.
</p>
<p>
The Georgians are said to be great &oelig;conomists; that is to say, they hate to part with their money even for the most useful purposes. In the house of assembly, a member who aims at popularity has only to oppose all public works and improvements that are likely to take the money out of the pockets of the people, and he is sure to gain his end. The planters are poor and miserable when living on their plantations, though perhaps possessed of immense landed property. They have less of the free and generous extravagance of the Carolinian planters, though, like them, they are always in debt, and every one complains of the difficulty of getting money from them. Horse-jockeying and racing are favourite amusements with the people, and they do not scruple to bet high on those occasions. Upon the whole, they possess all the bad but very few of the good qualities of their Carolinian neighbours. Gouging, and other unfair fighting, is, however, equally practised in both places, and individuals of each will frequently 
<hi rend="italics">
pluck out an eye, or bite off a nose
</hi>
, for the 
<hi rend="italics">
honour
</hi>
 of their respective States.
</p>
<p>
The raising of silk and the planting of vines were the principal objects of the first settlers in Georgia; and though it appears that the soil
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and climate are congenial to both those articles, yet the colony remained poor till the introduction of rice and cotton, which are now its staple commodities.
</p>
<p>
The country was settled in 1733 by General Oglethorpe, who conducted the first colonists in person. They fixed upon a large plain on the banks of the Savannah river, about ten miles from the sea, for the building of a town. This settlement, now the town of Savannah, at first consisted of no more than 100 persons, but before the end of the year the number had increased to upwards of 600. In 1735 the population of Georgia was increased by the arrival of some Scotch Highlanders. Their natural courage induced them to accept of some lands that were offered them on the southern frontier, near the river Altamaha, in order to form an establishment that might prove a defence to the colony, when necessary, against the attacks of the Spaniards in Florida. There they built the towns of New Inverness and Frederica, and several of their countrymen went over and settled among them. A number of German protestants, driven out of Saltzburg by the intemperate zeal of a fanatical priest, also embarked for Georgia about the same time, in order to enjoy peace and liberty of conscience. At first they settled in the neighbourhood of the capital; but
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afterwards judging it proper to be at a greater distance, they built the town of Ebenezer.
</p>
<p>
In these four settlements, some people were found more inclined to trade than agriculture; they therefore separated from the rest, in order to build the city of Augusta, on the banks of the Savannah, about 236 miles distant from the sea. The neighbouring territory is fertile in an extraordinary degree; but though that circumstance adds to the convenience of the settlers, it was not the motive which induced them to fix upon this situation; the convenience of trading with the Indians led them to fix here, and their project was so successful, that as early as 1739 six hundred people were employed in that trade only. Augusta is now a populous city, and the seat of government in Georgia; and though the traffic in furs is now no longer of any importance, yet Augusta is the medium of a very extensive trade between the upper and lower parts of the State. Scows, carrying each 500 bags of cotton, besides numerous barges and sloops, are continually passing between Augusta and Savannah; at which latter place the productions of the interior are shipped for every quarter of the globe. Augusta contains about 4000 inhabitants, several handsome houses, churches, and stores. The town is regularly laid out, and is in many respects superior to Savannah. Three
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newspapers are published there in the course of the week.
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<p>
St. Mary&apos;s is the frontier town of Georgia, on the confines of Florida, about 95 miles from Savannah. It is a small town, of no great importance, otherwise than as a receptacle for imposition and worthless characters. Smuggling and shuffling tricks are carried on here with success; and it was the medium for evading the embargo laws. It is separated from Florida only by the St. Mary&apos;s river. Vessels arrive here from the northern states, and run their cargoes in small boats across to the Spanish coast, from whence they are shipped to the West Indies. I met with several persons at Colonel Shelman&apos;s, who were going to St. Mary&apos;s on these mercantile speculations. The road from Savannah to St. Mary&apos;s is very indifferent, and the stage goes no further than Darien; from thence the mail and passengers proceed in a canoe, for upwards of forty miles coastwise, between the numerous islands and the sea. In the spring of 1808 the mail boat was lost in its passage; and two monks, who happened to be passengers in it, were drowned.
</p>
<p>
The town of Savannah is built upon an open sandy plain, which forms a cliff, or, as the Americans term it, a 
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bluff
</hi>
, by the shore, about 50 feet above the level of the river. It is well laid out for a warm climate, in the form of a parallelogram,
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about a mile and a quarter long, and half a mile wide. The streets are wide, and open into spacious squares, each of which has a pump in the centre, surrounded by a small plantation of trees, A great disadvantage, however, to the town, is the total want of foot-paths and pavement. Improvements of this nature would render walking more agreeable, and the town more cool and healthy. At present, one sinks at every step up to the ancles in sand; and in windy weather the eyes, mouth and nostrils are filled with it. The magistrates are charged with neglect for not paving and improving the town; but 
<hi rend="italics">
&oelig;conomy
</hi>
 is their 
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foible.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
The houses are mostly built of wood, and stand separate from each other, divided by court yards, except in two or three streets, where they are close built, many of them with brick, and contain several shops and stores. One large range of brick buildings stands near the market-place, and at a distance has the appearance of an hospital. It is the property of one person, who built it on a speculation. It is divided into distinct houses, the ground-floor being appropriated to retail stores, and the upper apartments to private lodgings. But the principal street is that called the Bay, where there are several very good houses of brick and wood. Some contain booksellers&apos;, grocers&apos;, and drapers&apos; stores, others are private dwellings.
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This range of buildings extends nearly three quarters of a mile along the town; and opposite to it is a beautiful walk or mall, planted with a double row of trees, the same as those at Charleston, (
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Melia Azedarach
</hi>
, or Pride of India.) These trees are also planted in different parts of the town, but I cannot persuade myself that they are friendly to the health of the inhabitants. The shade of their thick foliage, however, forms an agreeable relief from the scorching beams of the sun, and they never engender or harbour any noxious insects upon their branches; which are advantages that have brought them into repute both in Charleston and Savannah.
</p>
<p>
This agreeable promenade is situated near the margin of the height or bluff upon which the town stands; and the merchants&apos; stores, warehouses, and wharfs, for landing, housing, and shipping of goods, are built immediately below, along the shore, forming in some degree a sort of lower town. From the height there is a fine commanding view of the Savannah river as far as the sea, and for several miles above the town. The river is intersected by several extensive swamp islands, which divide it into different channels. They have been converted into excellent rice-grounds, as they lie very low, and are easily inundated at the proper seasons, which the culture of that grain requires. The negroes employed in
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that work live on the islands, in small wooden huts, exposed to the night dews and exhalations from the marshy soil, surrounded also by frequent fogs off the water. The continual moisture and dampness in which they live, would kill a white man in a few months. In the first settlement of the colony, negroes were prohibited to the settlers, but they now nearly equal the white population.
</p>
<p>
About the centre of the walk, and just on the verge of the cliff, stands the Exchange, a large brick building, which contains some public offices; and an assembly-room, where a concert and ball are held once a fortnight during the winter. I went to the top of this building, upon which there is a steeple, and had a very extensive panorama view of the town, the shipping, the river, and surrounding country. The prospect was bounded by immense forests, and very little land appeared cleared in the vicinity of the town.
</p>
<p>
By a census taken eight or nine years ago, the population of Savannah consisted of 3009 whites, and free people of colour; and 2376 slaves, making a total of 5385. At present it is supposed to be about 6000. The public buildings consist of the Branch bank of the United States; the Exchange; four or five places of worship; and a gaol, built upon the common, some distance from town. The latter is a large strong brick building, and
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well adapted for the confinement of refractory negroes, and other offenders against the laws.
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<p>
A large burying-ground is judiciously situated out of town, upon the common. It is inclosed by a brick wall, and contains several monuments and tomb-stones, which are shaded by willows and pride of India; and have a very pretty effect. This cemetery, though now a considerable distance from the town, will, in time, most probably, be surrounded by the dwellings of the inhabitants, like those of New York and Charleston. In hot climates, these places infect the atmosphere with unwholesome exhalations, and injure the health of the people. They should at least be two or three miles away from all habitations. But Savannah is not likely to increase very rapidly; for adventurers reside there as at Charleston, merely for the purpose of accumulating a speedy fortune in trade; and then retire either to their native country, or to some other part more congenial to health and comfort.
</p>
<p>
The situation of Savannah, and the plan upon which it is laid out, would, if the town contained better houses, render it far more agreeable as a place of residence than Charleston. Its greater elevation, I should think, must also be more conducive to the health of the inhabitants than the low and flat situation of the latter city. Both, however, are in the neighbourhood of swamps,
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marshes, and thick woods, which are apt to engender diseases injurious to the constitution of white people. Georgia, like Carolina, is subject to frequent storms, hurricanes, and inundations. In 1806 a hurricane tore up the grove of trees on the Bay of Savannah, did great damage to the town and shipping, levelled all the negro huts on the swamp islands, and destroyed several of the negroes. Savannah has also suffered much from fire.
</p>
<p>
Since the revolutionary war, Georgia, like most of the other States in the Union, has rapidly increased in population and riches: but she cannot boast of equal rapidity in arts, sciences, and literature. With respect to these embellishments of civilised society, Georgia is yet in the 
<hi rend="italics">
Gothic age.
</hi>
 Savannah contains five or six respectable bookstores, and publishes three newspapers; two of which are attached to federal principles. The military force of the State consists of militia; but Savannah has several corps of volunteers, infantry and cavalry, who clothe and equip themselves at their own expense. During my stay they exercised for several days on Fort Wayne. This fortification is situated at the extremity of the cliff, and in the American war formed the chief defence of the town. It is now nearly destroyed.
</p>
<p>
Presbyterianism, independency, and methodism, are the most prevailing forms of worship
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among the inhabitants of Savannah. There are a few Jews, but no Quakers. I went one evening to hear Mr. Conoch, the favourite preacher of the Presbyterians. I cannot say that I admired his delivery, which had a fault too common to the clergymen of the United States, viz, 
<hi rend="italics">
monotony.
</hi>
 His voice, likewise, was so loud, that it became harsh and grating to the ear; but his pronunciation was clear and distinct. This gentleman is allowed, by his congregation, a salary of 3000 dollars per annum, besides the pews in the chapel which bring him in 7000 dollars more; some of the pews being let for upwards of 160 dollars per annum. This enormous sum for one clergyman, in such a small town as Savannah, is rather surprising; particularly as the people are proverbial for &oelig;conomy. But enthusiasm and extravagance in religion are often irresistible; and many persons belonging to the dissenting sects, even in England, have been known to reduce themselves almost to absolute poverty in the support of their ministers, to the great injury of their own families: it would be well if they had always met with a grateful return for such disinterested generosity.
</p>
<p>
The Sunday after my arrival at Savannah I was passing a methodist meeting, and was induced, by the vehemence of the preacher, to go in and hear his discourse. He uttered such terrible imprecations
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upon sinners unless they were born again in faith, that one half of his congregation were groaning and weeping in the most pitiable manner: he seemed to take delight in viewing their distress, conceiving it (I suppose) a mark of their contrition and repentance; but I rather think it it was owing more to the terrifying loudness of his voice, his furious looks, and vehement gesticulations, than to a real sense of their own wickedness. Where this scene of woe and agitation would have stopped I know not, had the preacher continued his thundering anathemas much longer; for some of the women were on the point of fainting away, or going into hysterics, when he fortunately lowered his voice into a short concluding prayer: this restored his congregation to their senses, dried up their tears, and reduced the groans and screams of the females to inward sobs and plaintive sighs. But such an assemblage of wretched looks, and pale, ghastly countenances, I never before saw: they seemed, indeed, to have suffered severe castigation for their sins even in this world. Instead of benefiting by the mild and consolatory precepts of Christianity, these people appeared to be lost in a sea of doubt and perplexity; and seemed to think of nothing but everlasting damnation, unless perchance they construed a 
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griping of the bowels
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 into the 
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workings of divine grace.
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<p>
In no part of the world, perhaps, is religious fanaticism carried to a more extravagant height than in the United States, by a few artful designing men, who contrive to delude the simple and unwary into the most shameful and blasphemous excesses. These fanatics, or artful hypocrites, regularly advertise what they call &ldquo;camp meetings,&rdquo; in different parts of the country, and invite all &ldquo;friendly ministers and praying people&rdquo; to attend. I never had an opportunity of being present at one of these meetings; but I am told that the scenes which are exhibited on these occasions often beggar all description. The following account of a recent camp meeting is by an American gentleman who was present; and may, therefore, be considered as a correct though inadequate description of the midnight orgies and revels of those deluded and artful enthusiasts.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;Of late, in America, the Methodists have reduced jumping, clapping, and shouting, to a system. Camp meetings are held in the open fields; and if convenient, in a circular form, at a distance from human habitations, in which their orgies are continued several days, until by their violent, or as they term it religious exercise, they are exhausted. They make all manner of religious gestures, discordant noises, and frequently utter blasphemies. They sleep together in tents, old and young; men, women, and children indiscriminately; the vigorous
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male near the unblushing female; black and white, all together.
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&ldquo;I was present lately at one of these diabolical meetings, at which there might be about 5000 persons assembled, of all descriptions and ages. They bring their provisions with them. Soon after the rising of the sun a beautiful girl about eighteen rushed forth from the tent led by two men; they cried, bellowed, and roared, like persons in the utmost agony begging for their lives; exclaming, a lake of fire and brimstone was flaming before them; that a great devil was thrusting them into it; and that God must come down. &lsquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Come, O God, come down immediately and save us, or we shall sink.
</hi>
&rsquo; These exclamations were repeated in the most vociferous manner for a length of time, until the young woman was so exhausted by her exertions that she fell down. Her cheek assumed the flush of burning fire; her eyes became inflamed; her lips parched; she sank on the earth, sighed and sobbed like a child. This ceremony, however, was not completed until a similar party had issued from another tent; and that followed by a second and a third, until the action became general, and the scene the most confused, terrific, and horrible ever presented to the human eye. Little children turned pale with fear; young girls fainted to the earth, were raised up, converted, and became good Methodists. Such real agonies,
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perhaps, were never elsewhere excited by fictitious causes.
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&ldquo;It appears that the first girl was kept as a decoy, and had frequently gone through those scenes in a similar way. Designing men are, no doubt, at the bottom of this business; and many simple, innocent souls are led on thus, and persuaded of their sincerity. But many also, who have no design, are by their fanaticism and violence of passion induced to commit actions, and make exclamations, which justify the charge of blasphemy. This is by no means an exaggerated picture; it is but a weak attempt at describing what has taken place: but it is their midnight orgies which appal the heart.
</p>
<p>
&ldquo;At one of their meetings near Morristown a young woman fainted; immediately they crowded around her and began their incantations. Her brother with difficulty forced his way to her, and attempted to take her into the air, but they prevented him. An athletic young 
<hi rend="italics">
heretic
</hi>
 saw their situation; forced his way through a crowd of demons with a stout bludgeon, and liberated them. The brother, assisted by his friend, took her to a place of security, and by force opposed their coming near her again. A tall woman of the sect tossed up her hands,&mdash;roared,&mdash;bellowed with all her strength, and called upon God to &lsquo;
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open the earth and sink them into hell!
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&rsquo;
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<p>
&ldquo;Their camp meetings are generally held in a wood; deep, dark, lonely, and almost impenetrable, far from any human habitation. The native burghers of the forest are frightened from their wild retreat, and driven from their home to make way for these midnight worshippers of the most extravagant superstition. Here the cauldron is set a-boiling; and here, in this gloomy hour, the ingredients are cast in until the spell is wound up, and the weak and terrified mind becomes a converted Methodist.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
One half of the converts to Methodism 
<hi rend="italics">
in America
</hi>
 are made at camp meetings. What a contrast to the mild and heavenly conduct of the Redeemer! who, after instructing the multitude in the wilderness, fed them, and sent them quietly to their homes. He terrified them not with wild and furious gestures and imprecations: he caused none to faint,&mdash;to fall down with fear and trembling, and to exclaim, 
<hi rend="italics">
that a lake of fire and brimstone was flaming before them!
</hi>
 He resorted not to such unnatural means to reclaim his auditors from sin and wickedness. His doctrines were mild and peaceable, and his actions corresponded with them. He uttered no thundering denunciations; no blasphemous curses, nor deadly maledictions. He invited the repentant by gentleness and kindness; not repelled him by horrible threatenings. His tongue dropped manna upon all who heard
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him, and his spirit breathed 
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peace and good-will to all mankind!
</hi>
</p>
<p>
The Christian religion (says a writer of eminence) is in every shape agreeable to the divine justice, which does not punish man for speculative opinions, and particularly for such as are incomprehensible to all mankind. It is a religion every way worthy of its eternal Author; 
<hi rend="italics">
and we may know by the doctrine that it comes from God.
</hi>
 It is a religion for men of sense, for philosophers, for honest men, and comprehensible too by the meanest vulgar without a guide; a religion of reason, free from the blind mazes and studied intricacies of designing people, and beneficial to society at first view. It despises apish gestures and external buffoonery; and effectually prevents and puts an end to all inhuman fierceness and holy squabbles, too often occasioned by the selfish religions of corrupt priests and enthusiasts. It leaves not unhappy men in perpetual doubts and anxieties; nor tosses and tumbles them, for relief, out of one superstition into another, 
<hi rend="italics">
but esteems them all alike.
</hi>
 In short, it is a religion which every honest man would wish it to be&mdash;
<hi rend="italics">
a religion of charity and benevolence to all the world!
</hi>
<lb>
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Leave Savannah&mdash;Excursion up Savannah River&mdash;Inundations&mdash;Swamp Plantations&mdash;Alligators&mdash;Anecdote of an Alligator&mdash;Terrebins&mdash;Water Vipers&mdash;Rattle Snakes&mdash;Journey through the Woods&mdash;Black Snakes&mdash;Variety of Birds&mdash;Beautiful Plumage&mdash;An Adventure in the Woods&mdash;A disinterested Physician&mdash;Fire in the Forest&mdash;Immense Body of Smoke&mdash;Seasons of South Carolina&mdash;Cotton Plantations&mdash;Bad Roads&mdash;Waggoners or Crackers&mdash;Roads of South Carolina&mdash;Arrive at Charleston.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
After
</hi>
 a stay of nearly six days at Savannah, I set out on my return to Charleston, in company with a Scotch gentleman of the name of Chapman, with whom I had been acquainted some months previous to our meeting at Savannah. I was now happy to have a companion with me, to relieve the tedium of a journey through the lonely pine barrens. We left Savannah about nine o&apos;clock in the morning of the 18th of March, in the mail boat, with the same conductor and negro boatmen as I came down the river with the week before. The morning was remarkably fine, and
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the weather so warm, that we found the benefit of a covered boat to screen the powerful beams of the sun from our heads. We were the only passengers; and we found ourselves equally comfortable without the company of strangers, not always the most agreeable companions on a journey.
</p>
<p>
The Savannah river, which waters nearly the whole of the northern frontier of Georgia, is bold and deep; and from the sea to Augusta, a distance of 286 miles, is navigable for vessels of 70 tons burthen. At that city the falls of the river commence; beyond, the navigation is continued for 60 miles, to Vienna, for boats of 30 tons or more, from whence it is contemplated to open the navigation up to Andersonville, at the confluence of Tugoloo and Keowee rivers. These latter are large branches of the Savannah river; the first being upwards of 200 yards wide a considerable way above their confluence; and the latter spreading itself over a greater space. Hence, when the accumulated waters of rain and snow pour down their channels, the adjacent low lands and intervals are overflowed with destructive freshes or inundations. These freshes will sometimes rise from 30 to 40 feet perpendicular above the usual level of the river. In 1701 a very destructive one occurred in part of the country; and in 1796 a similar flood poured down the Savannah river, laying the town of Augusta upwards of two feet
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under water, and damaging goods therein to a large amount. It tore away an extensive bridge near 800 feet long, belonging to Mt. Wade Hampton, which had been thrown over that river from South Carolina, and carried destruction and dismay before it quite to the town of Savannah. The height of this fresh was supposed to be from 35 to 40 feet at Augusta above its common level. This inundation also occasioned immense damage in South Carolina, where the waters rose to as great a height as in Georgia. Several bridges were carried away; and many of the negro huts on the islands and swamp plantations near the coast were torn up with the people in them, and carried by the torrent entirely out to sea.
</p>
<p>
Proceeding up Savannah river we were regaled with a variety of beautiful views. Numerous small islands intersect and divide the river into pretty meandering channels. The shores are mostly lined with large forest trees, and the islands with abundance of small shrubs. A few plantations appear at intervals upon the banks, with now and then a handsome house; but in general we saw only the negro huts. Many of the slaves were at work upon the rice swamps, which are very numerous along the right bank of the river.
</p>
<p>
As we proceeded up the river we saw a great number of alligators of various sizes; the largest which we met with was about eight feet long, and
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from 16 to 18 inches diameter in the thickest part of its body. They were either swimming along shore, with their heads just above water, or were basking in the sun upon the branches of trees which projected into the river. Their colour when just coming out of the water is a dark green, or brown; but when dry it resembles that of a log of wood. We fired at several, but are not certain whether any were killed, for the balls often rebounded from their bodies as if they had struck a coat of mail. The eye or the breast are the most vulnerable places. In the upper parts of the river, I am told, they abound in great numbers, and of a very formidable size, growing frequently to the length of 
<hi rend="italics">
eighteen
</hi>
 or 
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twenty feet.
</hi>
 They are said to be more sluggish and cunning than active or courageous: yet during our passage we had ocular demonstration of the intrepidity of a young one about four feet long. We discovered him lying near the root of a large tree; the boat approached within a few yards, but was prevented going close to the shore on account of the branches of trees which projected into the river. The man who had the charge of the mail fired at him with a musket loaded with ball. The ball passed just over the alligator, yet he moved not in the least. This made us believe he was dead, as all the rest we had fired at sprang into the water the moment they heard the report of the gun. Mr. Chapman
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now fired a large horse pistol with ball, and hit the root of the tree upon which he was basking: yet still the animal never stirred. We then absolutely declared him to be dead, and were just making our way with the boat through the branches of the trees to take him, when behold! the animal rose up, made a circuit round the tree against which he had reclined, and with the most apparent indifference 
<hi rend="italics">
walked
</hi>
 into the water. He then swam slowly off, as if conscious of our inability to hurt him, and kept his eye steadily fixed upon us. We had not time to charge again; nor indeed had we any inclination, so much did we admire the coolness and intrepidity of this little animal. Previous to my seeing the alligators in this river, I had always an idea, from what I had read, that neither they nor crocodiles could bend their bodies; but when we fired at and wounded some that were seven or eight feet long, they twisted their bodies with as much ease, and nearly in the same manner, as a large eel, and plunged into the river.
</p>
<p>
We also saw a great many tortoises or terrebins basking in the sun, like the alligators, upon the trunks and branches of trees that grew in the water along shore. They were of various sizes, and are said to live in harmony with the alligator in the same hole, in which case the terrebins cannot form an article of food for that voracious animal, otherwise they would fly from his presence.
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The variety of fish with which the Savannah abounds affords the alligator abundance of provision without infringing the rights of hospitality. Our conductor was a great foe to the alligators, and fired at every one he saw. He told us that he once got a young one in the boat, thinking he had completely killed it. For upwards of an hour it lay motionless; but, while they happened to go ashore, it availed itself of the opportunity to make its escape by plunging into the river. We were obliged to keep some distance from the trees and shrubs which hung over the banks of the river, as there were a great number of 
<hi rend="italics">
water vipers
</hi>
 reclining upon the branches. They are apt to spring into the boat if it approaches too close, which is dangerous, as their bite is said to be venomous. We killed several of these noxious reptiles, who had coiled themselves up in an easy posture among the branches, for the double purpose of enjoying the warmth of the sun and catching small flies and insects. Besides these vipers, our conductor informed us that the shores abounded with a species of 
<hi rend="italics">
water rattle-snake
</hi>
, whose bite was also of a deadly nature.
</p>
<p>
About half-past three in the afternoon we arrived at Purrysburgh, after a pleasant excursion of 25 miles up the river, which fully recompensed me for the wet uncomfortable passage I had experienced down the same river the preceding
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week. We dined at the driver&apos;s house; after which we departed from Purrysburgh in the stage. At one time we intended to have performed our journey on foot; but on consideration Mr. Chapman recollected that he had business which required him to be in Charleston as soon as possible, and it would have taken us at least four days to have walked there without inconvenience to ourselves. For my own part, I had already had a pretty good specimen of a pedestrian excursion in the pine forests, and was not eager to have another; but the road till within ten miles of Charleston was so remarkably straight, smooth, and level, with scarcely a stone, rut, hole, or hillock to impede our progress, that walking, provided the weather were fair, would have been equally agreeable to riding.
</p>
<p>
As the road was the same over which I had travelled but a few days before, there was nothing novel in any thing that offered itself to my notice, except that the increased warmth of the weather had brought out a number of black and other snakes from their holes: they were either running along the ground, or were suspended from the branches of trees. There was also a greater variety of birds, many of them of handsome plumage and agreeable note; but I had no opportunity to examine them minutely.
</p>
<p>
We stopped about nine o&apos;clock to change horses,
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at a small log-hut in the woods belonging to a man who had lately arrived there with his family to settle, and clear a portion of land which he had purchased. Mr. Chapman and I alighted from the coach to get some milk from the people: when we entered the hut we found the man lying by the fire upon a wretched bed on the bare earth, unable to turn himself on account of the rheumatism, which had almost taken away the use of one side. He was in great pain, and begged of us to tell him what would relieve the agony he had suffered for more than six weeks. For the first time in my life I became a 
<hi rend="italics">
Physician
</hi>
, and without a diploma from 
<hi rend="italics">
Aberdeen
</hi>
 had the temerity to prescribe fomentations with flannels dipped in hot water, and a plentiful application of oil and hartshorn to be well rubbed by his obedient wife over the parts affected. I had no occasion to write a Latin prescription, as the coachman promised to bring him the articles on his return: neither did I demand the 
<hi rend="italics">
usual fee;
</hi>
 for which, perhaps, I shall be considered bythe College of Physicians as an 
<hi rend="italics">
ignorant
</hi>
 practitioner. I am, however, in hopes that my 
<hi rend="italics">
advice, gratis
</hi>
, has been of service; unless, indeed, my patient neglected to have the crevices between the logs of his miserable hut filled up with clay or moss; for in every part of the habitation the cold wind, night air, dews, and fogs, gained an easy admittance.
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No wonder he was unable to move for six weeks!
</p>
<p>
We arrived at Pocotaligo about midnight, an unusual late hour for the Savannah stage, as it has only 24 miles to run from Purrysburgh; but we had set out very late from Savannah, on account of the tide, and had spent rather too much time in shooting at alligators and snakes, otherwise we should have been there earlier. The coach from Charleston had been in upwards of three hours, and the passengers were gone to bed. As we had to start again at two o&apos;clock, we did not think it worth while to lie down, and therefore took our seats by the fire-side after supper.
</p>
<p>
At two o&apos;clock in the morning we left Pocotaligo, and its solitary tavern, without regret. The morning was dark and cloudy, and the driver was just able to see the road; but in the midst of a wood, where the path was so narrow, we could deviate very little from the track without running against the trees. This had nearly happened two or three times, and I expected every moment that we should come to the ground with the loss of a wheel.
</p>
<p>
The sun rose about six o&apos;clock, but it was a considerable time before the dewy vapours, which had covered the ground during night, were dispersed. About an hour after, while yet in the midst of an extensive pine barren, we were suddenly
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enveloped in what we at first supposed to be a thick fog; but as we proceeded further on, we discovered it to be the smoke of a large fire in the forest. No flames, however, were discernible any where; and as we rode on, the smoke continued to thicken, insomuch that we could not see the two leaders; and it was with great difficulty we could draw our breath. Unaccustomed to such a scene, Mr. Chapman and I began to hesitate about going any further, for we expected every moment to be surrounded by the flames which had created such an immense body of smoke. Unfortunately, this was the only road, unless we had returned back to Pocotaligo, and gone down the road to Beaufort, which branches off towards Ashepoo-bridge; but this would have delayed us a whole day, and the coachman expected every moment to arrive at a log hut, to change horses, and where he meant to inquire whether the fire extended across the road, and would prevent us from passing.
</p>
<p>
We had now rode upwards of three miles through this thick cloud of smoke, and should have passed the hut, had not a negro been waiting on the road side for our arrival. Here we alighted while the horses were changing, and went into the hut, which was inhabited by two negroes employed to take care of the horses: they informed us, that the forest had been set on fire
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a day or two before, to clear the ground of the long grass and brush-wood, and it being very dry weather, the fire had spread further than was intended: they did not think that it had reached the road, though the smoke had settled in the forest, in consequence of there being no wind to disperse it. I could not help pitying the situation of these two poor fellows, who resided in the neighbourhood of such a dreadful conflagration. When the horses were put to, the driver got one of the negroes to run before the leaders till we could get clear of the smoke, as the horses, being fresh out of the stable, could not see their way, and were much alarmed. In this manner we rode on for about a mile, when, fortunately, the smoke began to clear away; the negro then left us, and returned to his hut; but it was a considerable distance further before we were entirely free from smoke, and once more in broad day-light.
</p>
<p>
About half-past nine we arrived at Jacksonborough, where we breakfasted: at ten, we proceeded on our journey. The day was extremely fine; it had all the beauty of summer, without its sultry heat; all the trees and shrubs were in leaf, and many of them in blossom; the air was impregnated with the fragrant perfume of the yellow jasmines, and various species of honey-suckle and woodbine. A variety of beautiful birds enlivened the woods with their gay plumage and cheerful
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notes. In short, all nature seemed to rejoice in the return of the most agreeable season of the year, and the only one that can be enjoyed with comfort in the lower part of this State. The winter is certainly warm and moderate, but the weather is unsettled. Trees, shrubs, and plants, are then destitute of their beautiful foliage and fragrant blossoms; and the fields, plantations, and gardens, want their verdant crops, their gay and lively flowers. At that season we see nothing but the deep unvarying tint of pines, firs, laurels, bays, and other evergreens. The summer is too sultry to admit of frequent exposure in the open air, and the autumn generally brings with it, in the country parts, fever and ague, and in the towns, the 
<hi rend="italics">
typhus icterodes
</hi>
 or yellow fever.
</p>
<p>
In several of the plantations that we passed, the negroes were busily employed in hoeing and planting. Men and women, boys and girls, were alike engaged; and each had a separate piece of ground marked out for their day&apos;s work. When their task is finished, some planters allow their slaves to work for themselves, on small gardens which are usually allotted to them. Where they have the good fortune to fall into the hands of a liberal-minded man, their situation is far from irksome, and they frequently know nothing of slavery but the name. In such cases, negroes have been known to save up enough from the produce
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of their little gardens and live stock, to purchase their freedom, which is generally equivalent to five or six hundred dollars.
</p>
<p>
After passing two or three places, where the trees and fences were on fire close to the road, we arrived at the small tavern or ferry-house, on the border of Ashley river, about two o&apos;clock in the afternoon. Though I could not obtain a morsel of bread, when I passed that way the week before, yet the landlord now contrived to give us an excellent dinner and a good bottle of London porter. Travellers going to Charleston in the stage always stop at this house to dine; but those going to Savannah dine at Jacksonborough, where the charges are higher and the dinner worse.
</p>
<p>
Though we had only ten miles further to go, yet, after passing Ashley ferry, the road was so bad that we did not reach Charleston till near seven o&apos;clock in the evening. The sandy soil, of which the road is composed, is continually ploughed up, and thrown into deep furrows, by the narrow wheels of the country waggons, which are daily passing to and from the city. The waggons carry a load of from two to three tons, and are drawn by four or six horses. In wet weather the clayey roads are cut into deep ruts, and are sometimes rendered impassable by these narrow-wheeled machines fifteen or twenty of which are often to be seen following each other in the
<pageinfo>
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same track. Most of the produce of the upper and interior parts of the State are brought to Charleston by these waggons.
</p>
<p>
The waggoners are familiarly called 
<hi rend="italics">
crackers
</hi>
, (from the smacking of their whip, I suppose). They are said to be often very rude and insolent to strangers, and people of the towns, whom they meet on the road, particularly if they happen to be genteel persons. I have heard of several ludicrous, and some shameful tricks, which these gentry of the 
<hi rend="italics">
whip
</hi>
 have been guilty of. There are instances of their having robbed people; but in general they confine themselves to a few ad pranks, which they call 
<hi rend="italics">
jokes.
</hi>
 In almost every part of the United States, there seems to be an invincible antipathy between the town&apos;s people and these waggoners, who take every opportunity they can to give each other a trashing. The waggoner constantly rides on one of the shaft horses, and with a long whip guides the leaders. Their long legs, lank figures, and meagre countenances, have sometimes a curious appearance when thus mounted; especially if a string of them happen to pass along the road.
</p>
<p>
The roads of South Carolina will admit of carriages and waggons as far as the mountains; and cross roads, to and from each court-house, are made throughout the State. In the upper country, the water courses are mostly fordable; and
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
U
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0300
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290
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where they are not, they are as in other parts of the State, crossed by bridges or ferry-boats. The roads are made and kept in repair under the direction of commissioners; in the lower country by negroes, and in the middle and upper country by a suitable number of residents in the county or parish through which they lead; otherwise there is little or no expense attending them. At this time a carriage and four may be driven from any part of the State to the other; from the sea shore to the mountains, without any other difficulty than such as naturally arises in long journeys, and the state of the roads in bad weather. Some few toll-bridges are erected, but the spirit of the people is not yet favourable to these taxes on travelling.
</p>
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XXXIX.
</head>
<p>
Leave Charleston&mdash;Embark for New York in the Calliope Packet&mdash;Gale of Wind&mdash;Drunken Pilot&mdash;Anecdote of a Negro Pilot&mdash;Arrival at New York&mdash;Melancholy Effects of the Embargo&mdash;Leave New York in the Stage for Boston&mdash;Pass through Haerlem&mdash;Newhaven&mdash;General Bradley&mdash;The Two Crowninshields&mdash;Virginian Drams&mdash;Virginian Fighting&mdash;Gouging, Kicking, and Biting&mdash;Fight between a German Gentleman and a Carolinian, at Monte Video&mdash;Arrive at Hartford&mdash;Manners of the People of Connecticut&mdash;Productions&mdash;General Face of the Country&mdash;Stafford Springs&mdash;Handsome Houses and Churches&mdash;Arrive at Worcester&mdash;Crim. Con.&mdash;Universalists&mdash;Marlborough&mdash;Dispute about building a Church&mdash;Congregationalists&mdash;An American Election&mdash;Characters of the New Englanders&mdash;Prejudices of former Travellers&mdash;Lower Orders&mdash;The &ldquo;French Mounseer&rdquo;&mdash;Lower Orders of the English&mdash;Dress and Manners of the New England Females.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
After
</hi>
 my return to Charleston, I continued about a fortnight in that city, during which I had partly formed a resolution to proceed to New York by land, but in consequence of letters which
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I received, hastening my return to Canada, I gave up the idea, and determined to take a passage in the packet for New York, as the most expeditious mode of conveyance. I was thus deprived of the pleasure of seeing the cities of Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, a circumstance which for several reasons I much regretted.
</p>
<p>
On the morning of the 5th of April, I embarked once more on board the Calliope packet, Capt. Records, and left the harbour of Charleston, with a fine breeze from the southward. We had two gentlemen and three ladies passengers, all of whom were strangers to me. The old Irish razor-grinder, who was passenger with us before, was also on board, on his return to New York, having reaped a very plentiful harvest in Charleston. I had seen him several times in the street, grinding knives and razors, surrounded by a crowd of gaping boys and negroes, who had never seen the like before.
</p>
<p>
The day after our departure we entered the gulf stream; this increased the rapidity of our way at least three knots, and in less than four days sail we were in the latitude of New York. But a gale of wind coming on from the south-west, we were driven off the coast all night. The two following days were extremely foggy, and the wind unfavourable; but the next morning, the 13th of April, the weather clearing up, we came
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in sight of the Neversink Hills, and in the course of the afternoon took a pilot on board, The fellow was extremely drunk, and seemed little capable of affording us any assistance. Yet he took charge of the vessel with much confidence, and gave his orders correctly; not forgetting also to ask the captain for beef, rum, and candles, the moment he put his foot upon deck. These were accordingly handed into the pilot boat, as is the custom on those occasions; and I doubt much if he would have taken charge of the vessel had his demand been refused. The black pilots in the West Indies are also very troublesome when they come on board, for beef and grog, which it is usually the custom to give them. One day a West Indiaman going into Port Royal, Jamaica, took a black pilot on board. &ldquo;Give me some beef, massa, me can no take ship safe, widout grog and beef.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;D&mdash;n you, mind the ship, you black rascal,&rdquo; said the captain, &ldquo;and when she is safe you shall have what you want.&rdquo; Blackey and his men were, however, very sulky; one of them sounding with the lead, the captain asked, &ldquo;What water have you got?&rdquo; &ldquo;What water, massa? why, 
<hi rend="italics">
what water
</hi>
 do you tink we have got?&rdquo; &ldquo;D&mdash;n you,&rdquo; says the captain, &ldquo;I say what water have you?&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, 
<hi rend="italics">
salt water
</hi>
, massa, to be sure.&rdquo; &ldquo;You black scoundrel,&rdquo; says the captain in a rage, &ldquo;tell me, again, I say, 
<hi rend="italics">
how much
</hi>
 water
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have you got?&rdquo; &ldquo;Lord, massa, how can me tell, me have no 
<hi rend="italics">
pot
</hi>
 to measure it wid!&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
I found vegetation at New York a full month behind that of South Carolina. The poplars, and many other trees were not yet in leaf, while at Charleston most of the trees were in blossom, and peas, asparagus, and other vegetables, had been in the markets upwards of three weeks. But to the northward, winter still seemed to linger in the gardens, the fields, and the forests, and the productions of nature were yet in the bud.
</p>
<p>
Every thing wore a dismal aspect at New York. The embargo had now continued upwards of three months, and the salutary check which Congress imagined it would have upon the conduct of the belligerent powers was extremely doubtful, while the ruination of the commerce of the United States appeared certain, if such a destructive measure was persisted in. Already had 120 failures taken place among the merchants and traders, to the amount of more than 5,000,000 dollars; and there were above 500 vessels in the harbour, which were lying up useless, and rotting for want of employment. Thousands of sailors were either destitute of bread, wandering about the country, or had entered into the British service. The merchants had shut up their counting-houses, and discharged their clerks, and the farmers refrained from cultivating their land; for if they brought
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their produce to market, they either could not sell at all, or were obliged to dispose of it for only a fourth of its value. In short, go where I would, the people were full of complaints; those only excepted who, by an unaccountable fatality, acquiesced in the measures of government, to the destruction of their own property, because it injured their political opponents, and gratified their malice against the English nation.
</p>
<p>
Being anxious to return to Canada, I did not feel an inclination to make any stay at New York, particularly as there was little else to see but 
<hi rend="italics">
gloomy looks
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
long faces.
</hi>
 Having therefore rested myself five or six days, to recover from the effects of the tossing and tumbling which I had sustained during the passage, I bade adieu to that elegant city, which I regretted to leave in such a melancholy state of dejection.
</p>
<p>
I had engaged a place in Courtland-street, in the mail stage for Boston, and on Wednesday the 20th of April I took my departure about eight in the morning. We proceeded through Chatham-street, and along the Bowery-road. This avenue is remarkable for its width, and the handsome appearance of its buildings. About two miles from the city all the houses are built in an elegant and tasteful manner of wood, painted white, and ornamented with green venetian shades, neat railings, and small gardens. They stand apart
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from each other, and serve as summer retreats for the gentry and merchants of the city, particularly during the sickly season. They are built on a rising ground along the road, and command an extensive and beautiful view of the surrounding country.
</p>
<p>
Passed through Haerlem village, and across the river of the same name, which separates the island of Manhattan or New York from the continent. A good toll-bridge is erected over the river. In the vicinity of this place is the race-ground, where jockies and horse-dealers never fail to take in the flats whenever the races are held. We arrived at Stamford to dinner about two o&apos;clock, having passed through the several villages of Kingsbury, East Chester, New Rochelle, Maronick, Rye, and Greenwich, which last place is situated in the State of Connecticut. The houses were mostly new, all neatly built of wood or brick, well painted, and in excellent order. The country along this road is composed of alternate hills and dales. The soil in many places is extremely rocky and sterile, and in other parts rich and fruitful. A succession of picturesque views delight the eye, particularly to the right. On that side the shores of the continent and Long Island, the channel, and small islands between; with several handsome streams meandering through verdant meadows and well cultivated grounds,
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afforded a rich variety of landscapes from every hill we rode over.
</p>
<p>
Having dined, we left Stamford, and proceeded on our journey through Norwalk, Greenfarms, Fairfield, and Stratford; crossed the ferry at the latter place; passed through Milford, and arrived at Newhaven about midnight. Newhaven is a handsome town of moderate size, and the capital of the county which bears the same name. It has a harbour for small coasting vessels, formed by an arm of the sea, between the main land and Long Island. The situation is healthy and pleasing; the streets are intersected at right angles, and the houses are built at considerable distances from each other; sufficient in many places to admit of several large corn-fields, which thus appear in the middle of the town.
</p>
<p>
The next morning I left Newhaven in the stage, in company with five other passengers. Two of them were Messrs. Crowninshields of Salem, in Massachussetts, whose brother, a member of the House of Representatives, died at Washington, where they had been to attend him during his illness. They were merchants of considerable property, and concerned chiefly in the East India trade. One of the other passengers was General Bradley, a senator in Congress for the state of Vermont. He had accompanied the Crowninshields
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from Washington, in consequence of Congress having adjourned for a few weeks.
</p>
<p>
These three gentlemen were all violent anti-federalists, or rather democrats, as they are termed by the opposite party. General Bradley had distinguished himself by having summoned a caucus of the members of Congress at Washington, in order to recommend Mr. Madison to the people as President at the ensuing election to succeed Mr. Jefferson. This proceeding was considered to be so unconstitutional that even several of his own party condemned it, and refused to attend. They said that it was an endeavour to bias the sentiments of the people in their choice of a ruler, a measure highly subversive of the freedom of election. From this circumstance the General has ever since been nicknamed &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
President-making Bradley.
</hi>
&rdquo; Whatever violence this gentleman might have exhibited in his senatorial capacity, or political sentiments, I must do him the justice to say that he always abstained from political conversation, though often introduced by the other passengers; and when they sometimes began to be warm with each other, he would beg them to discuss some more agreeable topic, or perhaps interrupt them with a laughable anecdote. Indeed I found the General to be a most agreeable well informed man, possessed of considerable humour, with the manners and politeness
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of a well-educated gentleman; and I only regretted that we had not the pleasure of his company further than Hartford.
</p>
<p>
The two Crowninshields were sensible men, but possessed all the political violence of the General, with very little of his forbearance and good humour. They entered upon and often introduced political subjects with an acrimony that could not be agreeable in a promiscous company, where there were others of totally opposite principles and opinions. The General, however, contrived to keep us all in good humour; diverting our attention from the 
<hi rend="italics">
virtues
</hi>
 of Mr. Jefferson, the 
<hi rend="italics">
outrages
</hi>
 of the English and French nations, to a facetious story or pleasant anecdote. Speaking of the Virginians, he gave us the following specimen of their 
<hi rend="italics">
dram drinking.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
A gum-tickler
</hi>
 is a gill of spirits, generally rum, taken fasting.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
A phlegm-cutter
</hi>
 is a double dose just before breakfast.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
An antifogmatic
</hi>
 is a similar dram before dinner.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
A gall-breaker
</hi>
 is about half a pint of ardent spirits.
</p>
<p>
When they inquire how such-a-one does, the answer is &ldquo;Oh, he is only drinking 
<hi rend="italics">
gum-ticklers!
</hi>
&rdquo; If he is drinking 
<hi rend="italics">
phlegm-cutters
</hi>
, or 
<hi rend="italics">
antifogmatics
</hi>
, the case is not so good, and he is soon expected to get to 
<hi rend="italics">
gall-breakers;
</hi>
 but if he is drinking the
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<hi rend="italics">
latter
</hi>
, they consider him as a lost sheep,&mdash;say it is all over with him,&mdash;and pity his desperate case. Indeed, a man seldom lives above six months after he has commenced the 
<hi rend="italics">
gall-breaking
</hi>
 dram! Rum, brandy, or gin 
<hi rend="italics">
sling
</hi>
, is a common beverage for travellers throughout the States; and the stage-coachmen in the course of a journey, take &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
a special good quantity of it.
</hi>
&rdquo; Sometimes it consists only of the liquor and water, sweetened with sugar, and drank cold; but in general it is made of milk, with ginger or nutmeg grated into it.
</p>
<p>
The General informed me, that the mode of fighting in Virginia and the other southern states, is really of that description mentioned by preceding travellers, the truth of which many persons have doubted, and some even contradicted. 
<hi rend="italics">
Gouging, kicking,
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
biting
</hi>
, are allowed in most of their battles; and the combatants pride themselves upon the dexterity with which they can pluck out 
<hi rend="italics">
an eye, bite off a nose
</hi>
, or 
<hi rend="italics">
break a jaw with a kick of their foot.
</hi>
 Gouging is performed by twisting the fore finger in a lock of hair, near the temple, and turning the eye out of the socket with the thumb nail, which is suffered to grow long for that purpose.
</p>
<p>
While at New York, I was acquainted with a German gentleman, who had arrived there from the Rio de la Plata, after the loss of that country by General Whitelocke. This gentleman told me
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that during his residence at Monte Video he had lived on the most friendly terms with a young gentleman, a native of North Carolina; but happening one day to quarrel concerning a Spanish lady, who had fascinated them both, they soon proceeded from words to blows; and, while the German was fighting fairly with his fists, his antagonist suddenly grappled with him, twisted his finger in a side-lock of hair, and was on the point of turning the eye out of the socket, when fortunately the German gave him a terrible blow just under the jaw; this obliged the Carolinian to let go his hold, but not till he had left a severe cut upon the other&apos;s eye-lid by the sharpness of his thumb-nail. He showed me the scar, which he would no doubt carry with him to his grave. The German gentleman declared that he was so shocked at the unfair and brutal attempt of the American to deprive him of his eye, or perhaps both, that though the latter wished to be friendly with him again, yet he never afterwards could see him but with disgust.
</p>
<p>
We arrived at Hartford about two o&apos;clock, and stopped there to dine. The country through which we had passed this morning was extremely beautiful: we travelled, for the most part, over a succession of lofty hills, commanding extensive Views across the country. In the midst of some beautiful plains and valleys appeared the. Connecticut
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river, with its fruitful shores covered with innumerable habitations, surrounded by well cultivated grounds, pastures, and meadow lands, orchards, and gardens; all of which evinced the steady and industrious character of the inhabitants. Every mile we advanced afforded us some new objects for admiration; whether they consisted of lofty mountains, fruitful valleys, verdant lawns, meandering streams, rich farms, or populous towns; for they were more or less the materials which composed the scenery along the road to Hartford, and presented a rapid succession of rich and beautiful landscapes. I regretted only that spring had not yet removed the gloomy mantle of winter, and presented to our view the graceful charms and hidden beauties of nature.
</p>
<p>
Our stay at Hartford was too short to admit of my collecting much information concerning the town. It appeared to be composed of regular streets, and well built houses of red brick. Order, neatness, and cleanliness seemed to be a predominant feature in the character of its inhabitants; as was the case in all the towns and villages of this state through which I had passed. It is built on the banks of the Connecticut river, and surrounded by rich pasture and meadow-ground, well cultivated corn-fields, and neat dwelling-houses. It is the capital of the state of Connecticut, though the meetings of the legislature are divided between
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this town and Newhaven. Hartford contains a state-house, a bank, museum, some neat churches and meetings, and about 10,000 in habitants. We left the town about three o&apos;clock, and parted reluctantly with General Bradley; who had pleased us by his gentlemanly manners, and entertained us with his facetious and agreeable humour.
</p>
<p>
Our stage and four horses embarked on board the flat-bottomed ferry-boat; and Charon, not content with us, took in another stage and four, in spite of our remonstrances to the contrary, which rendered our passage across the Connecticut river extremely dangerous. The waters had risen several feet above their usual level, occasioned by the melting of the snow and ice in the upper parts of the country; and had inundated the opposite side of the river, above a mile from the shore. All the houses near the river were surrounded, and the farms laid under water. Our ferry-boat had therefore to pass over fences and hedges, and between trees and houses, for more than a mile after we had crossed the river. It was with difficulty the driver could keep his horses quiet; and one plunge would have upset the boat, and most probably drowned us all.
</p>
<p>
For several miles we passed through a plain level country, well cultivated, and apparently rich and fertile. The people of Connecticut are distinguished by their industry, sobriety, and &oelig;conomy;
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strict piety and devotion. Travelling on Sundays is not permitted in their state, though strangers often contrive to evade the laws. Elders go about and forbid inn-keepers at their peril to suffer any person to travel; but the latter generally keep a few horses ready saddled in the stables; and if a traveller arrives on a Sunday, he helps himself to one of the horses, and goes off by some bye-road. This man&oelig;uvre of the inn-keepers resembles that of the Quakers in paying taxes; &ldquo;Friend, thee may 
<hi rend="italics">
take
</hi>
, but I cannot 
<hi rend="italics">
give
</hi>
 to thee.&rdquo;
</p>
<p>
The inhabitatants are almost entirely of English descent; there being neither French, Dutch, Germans, nor other foreigners among them; and very few even of the Irish and Scotch. The rough, frank hospitality of the English farmer is here generally met with; and though there are not many who are remarkable for 
<hi rend="italics">
opulence
</hi>
, yet the number is still less of those who are remarkable for 
<hi rend="italics">
indigence.
</hi>
 The generality of the people live in easy independent circumstances; and upon that footing of equality which is best calculated to promote virtue and happiness among society. The population of the state is about 300,000, the majority of whom are Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Baptists, Quakers, and Independants. The people are said to be distinguished for their general information and learning; and the country
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abounds with colleges, grammar schools, and village seminaries. The select men (magistrates) are empowered to levy a fine of three dollars upon every person who neglects to send his children to school.
</p>
<p>
The general face of the country consists of mountains, hills, plains, and valleys; well watered by the Connecticut river, and a variety of smaller streams. The climate is healthy, though liable to the extremes of heat and cold. The principal productions are, wheat, rye, buckwheat, Indian corn, oats, barley, flax, hemp, and vegetables of all kinds. Great quantities of horned cattle, horses, sheep, swine, and poultry, are also raised in this State, of a very excellent kind. Cyder is the favourite beverage of the people; and large orchards crowded with an immense variety of fruit-trees, are attached to every farm in the State.
</p>
<p>
About seven o&apos;clock in the evening we arrived at Stafford, a small village in the State of Massachussetts. Since leaving Hartford we had proceeded for the most part through new turnpike roads, where the settlements are yet in their infancy. Within a mile of Stafford we passed a mineral spring of some celebrity, to which the fashionables of Massachussetts resort every summer to drink the water. It is only within these few years that the spying was discovered; and a person has built on speculation a large house in its vicinity,
<lb>
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<hsep>
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</pageinfo>
where he accommodates the gentry at ten or twelve dollars per week. The situation is wild and solitary, and apparently possesses but few attractions for valetudinarians; yet I am told that a great many resort there every year, some for the benefit of their 
<hi rend="italics">
health
</hi>
, but more because it is the 
<hi rend="italics">
fashion.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
The next morning we left Stafford, and proceeded through some new turnpike roads, along which the country is settling fast. In many parts the soil is rocky, and full of loose stones; several cleared spots of this description, I was informed, sold for upwards of ten dollars per acre. This part of the country is mountainous, but frequently interspersed with extensive plains and meadows. Oxen are much used for field labour in the New England States, because cheaper than horses, as they are afterwards fattened for market; and great numbers are exported to the southern States, to the West India Islands, Newfoundland, &amp;c. I saw above twelve yoke of oxen dragging a sort of scoop along the road to level the ruts; behind the scoop large boughs and branches of trees were fastened, for the purpose of smoothing the gravel.
</p>
<p>
We stopped to dine at Brookfield, a very pretty village, adorned with a neat church and some handsome dwelling-houses. Throughout the States of Connecticut, Massachussetts, and New York, a remarkable neat and indeed elegant style of architecture
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
and decoration seems to pervade all the buildings in the towns and villages; and I understand is more or less prevalent in the rest of the northern and middle States. The houses in the small towns and villages are mostly built of wood, generally one or two stories above the ground floor; the sides are neatly clapboarded and painted white. The sloping roofs are covered with shingles, and painted of a slate colour; and with sash windows, green venetian shades outside, neat white railings, and steps, have a pretty effect. Sometimes the entrance is ornamented with a portico. The churches, or, as they are oftener termed, meetings, are constructed of similar materials; painted white, and frequently decorated like the houses, with sash windows and green venetian shades. The building is also surmounted by a handsome spire or steeple with one or two bells. A small town composed of these neat and ornamental edifices, and situated in the neighbourhood of well-cultivated farms, large fields, orchards and gardens, produces a most agreeable effect, and gives the traveller a high opinion of the prosperity of the country, and of the wealth and happiness of its inhabitants. Indeed those parts of the northern and middle States through which I travelled, have the appearance of old, well-settled countries. The towns and villages are populous; provisions are cheap and abundant; the farms appear in excellent
<lb>
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order; and the inhabitants sober, industrious, religious, and happy.
</p>
<p>
At four o&apos;clock we arrived at Worcester. This town is handsome and well built, and consists of one long street of houses. It is the capital of the county of the same name, and contains several respectable stores, shops, inns, and taverns; two or three places of worship, and a handsome new court-house. As we were to remain here this night, I took the opportunity of walking through the town. The street is of considerable breadth, unpaved; but has excellent foot-paths on each side. The houses are of brick or wood, and built in that neat and tasteful manner just described. Perceiving the court-house to be crowded with people, I went up stairs, and found they were trying a man, at the suit of the State of Massachussetts, for crim. con. It appeared that the prisoner had been found in company with a blacksmith&apos;s wife, and the young men of the neighbourhood had carried them both in procession through the town, on the back of a raw boned Rosinante; the woman being tied on before astride the horse, and he fastened behind with his back to her. The wags, however, to the number of fifty, had suffered for their frolic, in taking the law into their own hands, and had been fined the day before, some in three dollars, others in ten dollars, according to their circumstances; and this day the
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
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prisoner stood trial for his offence at the suit of the State. The trial was not finished when I left the court-house; but it was supposed that he would be fined and imprisoned. He was a farmer, had a large family, and before this circumstance bore a good character. Some curious remarks were made upon his religion, which was that of an Universalist; and the judge observed, that it was an excellent faith for such men as the prisoner, and extremely accommodating; for they believed that all men would be saved, whatever had been their crimes and offences in this world. Great stress was also laid upon what place of worship he went to; for it seems that some of the meetings in America have no better reputation than houses of ill-fame. Witness the 
<hi rend="italics">
camp meetings
</hi>
, which are attended by all the refuse of the towns, by 
<hi rend="italics">
bawds, pimps
</hi>
, and 
<hi rend="italics">
prostitutes
</hi>
, who all swell the number of 
<hi rend="italics">
converted sinners
</hi>
 in that country.
</p>
<p>
The Universalists in America profess very accommodating tenets; tenets which, I cannot help thinking, are very dangerous to the peace and happiness of society. They conceive that every thing is to be accomplished by 
<hi rend="italics">
faith alone.
</hi>
 According to the information I received from one or two of this persuasion, they do not believe in future rewards and punishments, but are of opinion that all men will go to heaven, however wicked or
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
diabolical their acts may have been upon earth. They say that Christ died to save the 
<hi rend="italics">
sinful
</hi>
, and not the 
<hi rend="italics">
righteous;
</hi>
 and it is sufficient that they 
<hi rend="italics">
believe it
</hi>
, to be saved. If they commit any sins, they think they receive sufficient punishment if their consciences should be apt to reproach them; not reflecting that if they are tormented in their conscience, it is from the expectation of a 
<hi rend="italics">
future punishment
</hi>
, and of course militates against their own doctrine. Yet they persist in the belief that 
<hi rend="italics">
good works
</hi>
 are 
<hi rend="italics">
not
</hi>
 necessary to salvation. If a man, say they, commits murder, and is hung for it, that is a sufficient atonement for his offence; and so with respect to other crimes and punishments, in this world.
</p>
<p>
The following morning, Saturday, 23d April, we left Worcester, and proceeded through a beautiful well-settled country to the town of Marlborough, where we changed horses. The houses are built in a straggling manner, and extend the town upwards of a mile and a half. It is remarkable for its two handsome new churches, though one is quite sufficient for the present population of the town. It happened, however, that a dispute arose as to the spot upon which a new church should be built. One part of the inhabitants wished it to be built at their end of the town, and the other party at the opposite. After much altercation, dispute, and argumentation, in which
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there were more speakers than hearers, each party resolved to build a church for itself. Their determination was immediately put in execution; and the two rival churches arose within half a mile of each other. Both are elegantly neat, but one is rather handsomer than the other, and is superior to any country church that I have seen in the States. This one cost nearly double the expense of the other, being built on the surface of a rock, great part of which was obliged to be cut away, to level it for a foundation to the building. It was respecting this rock that the opposition first arose; the other end of the town opposing the building a church upon it as creating 
<hi rend="italics">
unnecessary expense
</hi>
, and that a more convenient and cheap situation might be found. The consequence was, that the town was put to the expense of 
<hi rend="italics">
two
</hi>
 churches instead of 
<hi rend="italics">
one.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
The inhabitants of Marlborough are nearly all Congregationalists. This denomination of Christians practices a form of worship that easily reconciles the Presbyterian and Episcopalian to meet in one church. It is in some sort a relaxed presbyterian service. They have no written form of prayer, the service consisting of chapters of scripture, extemporary prayers, and a sermon, with psalms or hymns at intervals. The minister frequently reads his discourse, as in the episcopalian churches; and organs are often put up in the
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meeting-house. The prayers of those congregational ministers whom I have heard, have been of that general and tolerant nature which embraces all sects and denominations of Christians, supplicating for the safety and welfare of all men, without respect of persons. Their discourses were generally of an evangelical cast, but devoid of all absurd tenets, dogmas, and denunciations. 
<hi rend="italics">
Faith
</hi>
 was earnestly recommended, but the necessity of 
<hi rend="italics">
good works
</hi>
 was strenuously enforced. It is possible that this denomination of Christians has arisen from the want of a sufficient number of places of worship in the new settlements, which obliged many of the inhabitants, though professing various religious tenets, to assemble together in one meeting, and to form their prayers and discourses for the general welfare of the whole congregation, without touching upon the peculiarities of either party. In several towns and villages through which I passed, even Baptists, Methodists, and Congregationalists, assembled together in one meeting; but sometimes it was on condition that their respective preachers should perform service alternately.
</p>
<p>
The Americans in the country parts call their places of worship 
<hi rend="italics">
meeting-houses
</hi>
, although they are built with steeples, in the manner of our churches. In the cities, those appropriated to the episcopal form of worship are always called
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<hi rend="italics">
churches.
</hi>
 The old meeting-house of Marlborough is still made use of, so that the town has now three places of worship for congregationalists. The termination of their dispute, by building two instead of one, shows that they are not parsimonious in religious matters. It is surprising they did not put the subject to the vote; but if the voting had been carried on, as it was once in New Jersey upon a similar dispute respecting the building of a new court-house, they would probably have had no church erected at all.
</p>
<p>
The legislature of New Jersey lately passed an act, permitting the inhabitants of Essex county to decide in the manner of an election where a new court-house should be erected. The Newarkites wished to have the election in their town. The Elizabethites were equally anxious to have it in theirs. But the latter, finding that it could not be accomplished in their favour, fixed on the geographical centre of the county. This election was to be general, and all the polls were to open and close at one time throughout the county. Certain arrangements were made that 
<hi rend="italics">
cheating
</hi>
 should not extend beyond certain limits. Accordingly the polls opened, and at it they went heart and hand, with exertions unexampled. Both parties were sanguine, both calculated on the superior exertions of their riders. Men, women, and children,
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
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all voted, old and young. Those who could not walk were carried, and those who were carried generally voted 
<hi rend="italics">
only once.
</hi>
 Horsemen and footmen; horses, carriages, waggons, carts, and wheelbarrows, all were employed, all running helter skelter, pell mell. The wind blew, the dust flew, the whiskey flowed, and all was confusion. At length night came, and the tumult subsided. The ballots were canvassed, and the result was, that the Newarkites had gained the election by a great majority; how great, is not now recollected, but some say it exceeded the number of legal voters in the county. The 
<hi rend="italics">
Elizabethites
</hi>
 charged the 
<hi rend="italics">
Newarkites
</hi>
 with having 
<hi rend="italics">
cheated
</hi>
 beyond the contract. This was rebutted by the 
<hi rend="italics">
Newarkites
</hi>
, who charged their opponents with having begun first; and that the scandal was greatly magnified by the attempt being made at a distant and obscure poll, under the idea that it would not be detected; but that 
<hi rend="italics">
they
</hi>
 being on the alert, and 
<hi rend="italics">
knowing how such things were done
</hi>
, had kept so good a look-out as to turn it to their own advantage. The conclusion was, that the losers petitioned the legislature to set it aside, on account of its being 
<hi rend="italics">
corrupt.
</hi>
 A counter petition set forth that both parties had done their 
<hi rend="italics">
best.
</hi>
 The legislature annulled the election, and determined to interfere no further. In New Jersey it has been the practice for females
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
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to vote at elections; and their dress favouring disguise, it is said that some have repeated the vote without detection.
</p>
<p>
From Marlborough we proceeded on our journey through several neat towns and villages, and a well-settled, rich, and fertile country. We were now within a few miles of Boston, and every thing around us appeared indicative of our approach to that rich commercial metropolis. We had an agreeable ride through Cambridge, a kind of suburb to Boston, to which it is connected by a very long bridge across the river Charles. This town contains about 3000 inhabitants, several handsome seats, orchards, gardens, and pleasure-grounds; three or four places of worship, a court-house, and the celebrated university of Harvard, which is reckoned the best institution of the kind in the United States. This college contains a library of nearly 20,000 volumes, a good philosophical apparatus, and a respectable museum. The students amount to about 250, and professors for every branch of the sciences are engaged to complete their education. The situation of Cambridge is extremely well adapted to such an institution. It is placed at a sufficient distance from Boston to prevent the students from having their morals corrupted by the vices of a populous city. It also contributes to their health, and the prosecution of their studies, by a clear, wholesome atmosphere,
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and calm retreat from the noise and bustle of a commercial town.
</p>
<p>
Through the whole of this journey of 240 miles, from New York to Boston, I had passed over a most beautiful tract of country, which from the manners of its inhabitants, the excellent order and condition of its towns, villages, and buildings, its farms, orchards, gardens, pasture and meadow lands, together with the face of the country, undulated with mountains, hills, plains, and valleys, watered by a number of rivers, small lakes, and streams, afforded a variety of the most beautiful landscapes, and strongly reminded me of English scenery.
</p>
<p>
Much has been said by former travellers of the familiarity and rudeness of the American people. I will not attempt to contradict their assertions; but for myself, I must declare, in justice to the American character, that I experienced the utmost civility and even politeness, from the inhabitants, in every part of the country through which I travelled. The coachmen were civil, and the tavern-keepers attentive; and wherever I had occasion to mix with the country people, I never met with the least rudeness or shadow of impertinence on any occasion; on the contrary, they were civil and obliging. The children would take off their hats, bow, or curtsey, as we passed along the road; and the men would frequently nod
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their heads, which, though it carried with it the appearance of familiarity, and certainly was not so graceful as the salutation of the French Canadians, yet I firmly believe it sprang entirely from an honest, well-meaning civility. It must be confessed, that I saw but little of the character of the country people to the southward; and nothing of it in the back country, where the civilization of the New England States is said to be little known. But I only pretend to speak of what I have myself witnessed; and even if I had met with rudeness from 
<hi rend="italics">
individuals
</hi>
, or been cheated by a 
<hi rend="italics">
sharper
</hi>
, I should not be inclined to charge 
<hi rend="italics">
the whole American people
</hi>
 with insolence and brutality, with roguery and imposition. But the Americans are a people like ourselves, who, conscious of the real liberty which they enjoy, boast of it as their greatest blessing. In many men, and particularly the lower classes, this freedom, even in our own country, sometimes degenerates into rude familiarity; but that philosopher must indeed be squeamish, who will not compound with a little rudeness to himself, for the solid acquisition of much substantial comfort and happiness to myriads of his fellow men.
</p>
<p>
Those travellers who visited the United States soon after the Americans had obtained their independence, were swayed by their prejudices for or against that country. The French were enamoured
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with their freedom of sentiment and manners, so different to the slavish fear under which they themselves lived in France; and were also enraptured with the polite attentions shown them every where they went, on account of the assistance their nation had rendered to the States. This naturally biassed them in favour of the American people, and induced them to write such flattering accounts of the country and its inhabitants. The English travellers, on the contrary, could see nothing but rude familiarity and brutal behaviour in the conduct of the people, and no doubt they had some foundation for their assertions: it was natural that the Americans should be elated with the victory they had obtained over their former masters; and that the lower orders should avail themselves of every opportunity to boast of their success in the presence of an Englishman. Many of the British subjects also left their own country under delusive prospects to settle in America; and, when they met with reverses, were too apt to return home full of spleen and inveteracy against the people and the country. If they had been the dupes of a few knaves, the American people were branded as 
<hi rend="italics">
rogues;
</hi>
 and the rudeness, imperfections, and chicanery of 
<hi rend="italics">
individuals
</hi>
 were set down to the account of the 
<hi rend="italics">
whole nation.
</hi>
 Sometimes they published their complaints to the world, and these becoming current, have tended
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to increase that animosity and disgust which the American revolution had engendered, and which were already too prevalent in England.
</p>
<p>
Since then a long peace has calmed the minds of the people, and agriculture, commerce, and the arts, have introduced a degree of civilization, which has in some measure recalled that politeness and urbanity of manners which the violence of the revolutionary war had almost banished from the country. Allowances, however, ought to be made for a new country, where the people are thinly scattered over an immense surface of the earth. They have few opportunities of enjoying that social and friendly intercourse which soften and polish the manners of a nation: where they do in some degree possess those advantages, as in the New England States, we find that they more nearly assimilate with ourselves. Allowance ought also to be made for the peculiar character of their constitution, which allows them to riot in freedom of sentiment and almost licentiousness of debate. The 
<hi rend="italics">
scurrility of the press
</hi>
 is deplored even by themselves; and is unfortunately too much in the hands of 
<hi rend="italics">
European traitors
</hi>
, who have fled to America to escape the punishment due to their crimes. On political subjects the Americans are headstrong and violent: like us, they are noisy and blustering in their complaints against other nations. Among themselves, they are jealous of
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all encroachments on their liberties, and tenacious of their political opinions even to a fault: but view them in private life; in their hours of relaxation, in the circle of friendship, and it will be found that they do not merit the opprobrium that has been cast upon their character. When politics were not the subject of conversation, I could discern no distinction between a federalist or a democrat: but talk of the conduct of a Jefferson or Adams; of the English or French nations, and open war would immediately commence, not only between rival politicians, but between friends and acquaintances. Yet, why should 
<hi rend="italics">
we
</hi>
 blame their conduct in this respect? we, who are for ever at issue respecting the merits of the 
<hi rend="italics">
ministry
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
the opposition!
</hi>
&mdash;It is true, that our political sentiments are expressed in the public papers with 
<hi rend="italics">
less
</hi>
 of that coarse vulgarity which characterizes the American prints; but our editors frequently belabour each other with a quantum sufficit of 
<hi rend="italics">
gentlemanly abuse.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
As to the lower order of the Americans, or labouring part of the community, much of their rudeness and coarse behaviour has worn off; and there are few now who are not as attentive and civil as those of Europe. But why should Englishmen be such sticklers for politeness and urbanity of manners in America, when the lower orders of their own country have only within these few
<pageinfo>
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years emerged from a rude and barbarous conduct to foreigners that was disgraceful to the nation?&mdash;Indeed, complaints on that head come with as ill grace from us as they do from Frenchmen who have been fraternizing with the dregs of the populace during the revolution. It is scarcely thirty years ago that a foreigner could not walk along the streets of London without being molested by the populace, who would hoot at and ridicule him for his dress, and sometimes even add violence to their taunts and menaces. An instance of this kind happened to a relation of mine, who during the American war was taken prisoner by the French in India and carried into the Mauritius, where he was confined upwards of four years. Having at length obtained permission to return to England on his parole, he arrived in London in the complete costume of a Frenchman, which in those days was particularly remarkable. His long queue reached half way down his legs; his hair, powdered and frizzled, was covered by a small cocked hat. He wore a curious cut coat with large broad stripes, and plated buttons nearly the size of a crown-piece: with breeches, stockings, shoes, and buckles of singular fashion. In this dress he was obliged, after landing from the vessel in the river, to walk through Thames-street, where he was immediately followed by a posse of carmen and porters shouting and
<lb>
VOL. II.
<hsep>
Y
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</pageinfo>
hooting at the &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
French mounseer
</hi>
,&rdquo; as they called him. For some time he only turned round occasionally, and answered their abuse in the 
<hi rend="italics">
French
</hi>
 language; but this caused them to be more insolent, and one of them at length went up and jostled him off the curb-stone, and was preparing to use further violence, when my relation seeing a large mob collecting round him, thought it was a good opportunity to punish the insolence of the brute. He accordingly appealed to the by-standers in 
<hi rend="italics">
English
</hi>
, stating that he was no 
<hi rend="italics">
Frenchman
</hi>
, but a countryman of theirs, and had had the misfortune to be taken by the French, and confined four years in prison, from which he was just released: that he had not yet been able to procure an English dress, as he had but a few minutes before landed from the vessel; and asked them whether it was generous to ill-treat their countryman in distress? The mob, with all that vacillation for which they are remarkable, no sooner found that he was an &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Englishman
</hi>
,&rdquo; than they applauded his speech, and immediately proceeded to take summary vengeance upon the insolent carman. They accordingly dragged him to a neighbouring pump; and, in their zeal for administering justice, gave him a complete ducking, though but the moment before they had joined in the general shout against the &ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
French mounseer.
</hi>
&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;
<hi rend="italics">
Such is the lightness of your common men.
</hi>
&rdquo;&mdash;In those days it will therefore
<pageinfo>
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appear that foreigners had greater reason to complain of the brutal behaviour of the lower order of the English than ever we have had to complain of the Americans; and the knowledge of this circumstance might at least make us look with a more favourable eye upon the faults of other nations.
</p>
<p>
The females of the New England states are conspicuous for their domestic virtues. Every thing in their houses has an air of cleanliness, order, and &oelig;conomy; this displays the female character to the greatest advantage. The young women are really handsome. They have almost all fair complexions, often tinged with the rosy bloom of health. They have generally good, and sometimes excellent teeth. Nor did I see more instances to the contrary among the 
<hi rend="italics">
young
</hi>
 women of America, than are to be met with in England. Their light hair is tastefully turned up behind, in the modern style, and fastened with a comb. Their dress is neat, simple, and genteel; usually consisting of a printed cotton jacket, with long sleeves, a petticoat of the same, with a coloured cotton apron, or pincloth without sleeves, tied tight, and covering the lower part of the bosom. This seemed to be the prevailing dress in the country places. Their manners are easy, affable, and polite, and free from all uncouth rusticity: indeed, they appear to be as polished and well
<lb>
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bred as the ladies in the cities, although they may not possess their highly finished education. Yet in the well settled parts of New England the children do not want for plain and useful instruction; and the girls, especially, are early initiated in the principles of domestic order and &oelig;conomy. At the taverns and farm-houses, where we rested on the road, we found the people extremely civil and attentive. We were treated with as much respect as if we had been at our own houses; and the landlord, his wife and daughters, waited on us in the most obliging manner. I do not mention this as a solitary instance, it was general at every house where we stopped; neither have I drawn my conclusions merely from the reception I met with at taverns and other places of public resort, but from my observations upon the people 
<hi rend="italics">
in general
</hi>
, with whom I had frequent opportunities of mixing, whether they belonged to the highest or the lowest orders of the community. I believe it is generally allowed, that for a traveller who wishes to make himself master of the real character and disposition of a people, it is not sufficient that he associates only with the 
<hi rend="italics">
grandees
</hi>
 of a nation; he must mix with the 
<hi rend="italics">
plebeians
</hi>
, otherwise he acquires but false ideas of the country and its inhabitants. &ldquo;The great mass of nations,&rdquo; says Dr. Johnson, &ldquo;are neither 
<hi rend="italics">
rich
</hi>
 nor 
<hi rend="italics">
gay.
</hi>
 They whose aggregate constitutes the people, are found in the 
<hi rend="italics">
streets
</hi>
 and
<pageinfo>
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</printpgno>
</pageinfo>
the 
<hi rend="italics">
villages
</hi>
, in the 
<hi rend="italics">
shops
</hi>
 and 
<hi rend="italics">
farms;
</hi>
 and from 
<hi rend="italics">
them
</hi>
, collectively considered, must the measure of general prosperity be taken.&rdquo; From these I have judged of the 
<hi rend="italics">
real character
</hi>
 of the Americans; and I found it as difficult to discover a single particle of rudeness in the behaviour of the men, as it was to discover an 
<hi rend="italics">
ugly face
</hi>
 or 
<hi rend="italics">
bad teeth
</hi>
 among the young women.
</p>
</div>
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<div>
<head>
CHAPTER XL.
</head>
<p>
<hi rend="italics">
Arrival at Boston&mdash;Agreeable Situation&mdash;Beacon Hill&mdash;The Park&mdash;East Boston&mdash;Longwharf&mdash;Market Place&mdash;New Hotel&mdash;Population of Boston&mdash;Religion&mdash;Manners of the first Settlers&mdash;Rigidity of Character&mdash;Governor Hancock&mdash;His Partiality to Negroes and Animosity to Theatres satirized by the Echo&mdash;Visit to the Theatre and the Circus&mdash;Captain Girod&mdash;Colonel Moulin&mdash;Captain de Frotte&mdash;Their extraordinary Escape from Fort Joux in Franche Comt&eacute;&mdash;Literature&mdash;Newspapers&mdash;Military Funeral&mdash;Manufactures&mdash;Contrast between the northern Merchant and the southern Planter&mdash;Visit to Bunker&apos;s Hill&mdash;Plymouth.
</hi>
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="smallcaps">
We
</hi>
 entered Boston about two o&apos;clock in the afternoon of Saturday, 23d April. The stage stopped at Lamphear&apos;s hotel in Hanover-street, where Captain Crowninshield, his brother, and I alighted. As I intended to stay but a few days in Boston, I did not think it worth while to go to a private boarding-house, and therefore took up my residence at this hotel, which the Crowninshields
<pageinfo>
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recommended to me as the best house in the town.
</p>
<p>
Early hours, I perceived, were prevalent among people of business in Boston; for we had scarcely left the stage when we sat down to dinner with upwards of 30 gentlemen. Here, as at other hotels in the States, the boarders in the house and single gentlemen in the neighbourhood take their meals at one public table at a certain hour. Our dinner consisted of almost every thing the markets produced, and was served up in excellent order: there were also four or five waiters in attendance. After dinner the Crowninshields set out for Salem in one of the stages which runs between that place and Boston, a distance of 17 miles. These gentlemen, though rather dogmatical in their political tenets, were notwithstanding pleasant sensible companions; and after travelling with them during three days, I parted from their company with reluctance. They pressed me very much to pay them a visit at Salem; but I was prevented from accepting their polite invitation by my anxiety to return to Canada as soon as possible.
</p>
<p>
I remained in Boston only six days; it cannot therefore be expected that I can furnish a very full and detailed account of the town and its inhabitants; but what little time I had was spent in visiting every place worthy of notice, and observing the manners of the people.
</p>
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<p>
Boston is an irregular built town, situated on a peninsula whose surface is broken by small hills; and, except where the isthmus appears in sight, seems completely environed by a beautiful river.
</p>
<p>
The town of Boston cannot boast of much uniformity and elegance; but with respect to situation it is extremely beautiful, and well deserves the description which Young gives of a populous city.
</p>
<p>
<hi rend="blockindent">
&ldquo;How wanton sits she, amidst Nature&apos;s smiles!
<lb>
Nor from her highest turret has to view
<lb>
But golden landscapes and luxuriant scenes.&rdquo;
</hi>
</p>
<p>
From an elevated part of the town the spectator enjoys a succession of the most beautiful views that imagination can conceive. Around him, as far as the eye can reach, are to be seen towns, villages, country seats, rich farms, and pleasure-grounds, seated upon the summits of small hills, hanging on the brows of gentle slopes, or reclining in the laps of spacious valleys, whose shores are watered by a beautiful river, across which are thrown several bridges and causeways. These bridges connect the minor towns of Cambridge, Charlestown, &amp;c. with Boston, and are built of wood, upon a vast number of piers of equal height; their length is from 2000 to 4000 feet. They are painted yellow, kept in excellent order, lighted by lamps, and have a foot path on each side, railed
<pageinfo>
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in from the carriage way. There is a toll-gate on each side, and foot passengers passing out of Boston pay one 
<hi rend="italics">
cent,
</hi>
 which is something more than a halfpenny.
</p>
<p>
That portion of the town called West Boston contains most of the dwelling-houses of the gentry and principal merchants. A number of elegant buildings of red brick have within these few years been erected; and wide spacious streets, consisting of handsome private houses of similar construction, are yet forming throughout that end of the town. These streets are mostly in the vicinity of Beacon Hill, a rising ground of considerable elevation, situate behind the new state-house. On this hill a monumental, pillar is erected, with a gilt eagle at the top, bearing the arms of the United States. On the pedestal of the column are inscriptions commemorating the most remarkable events of the Revolution. This pillar is a miserable and paltry structure, being built of brick and plastered over with mortar, the greatest part of which has been broken off by the wind and rain, and left the bare bricks exposed to view. It should either be repaired, or one more suitable to such a wealthy and enlightened city erected in its place. A handsome stone or marble column cannot surely be thought too costly to commemorate events which have raised their country to the rank
<pageinfo>
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of an independant nation, and established their liberties upon a sure and permanent basis.
</p>
<p>
The new state-house is, perhaps, more indebted to its situation for the handsome appearance which it exhibits, than to any merit of the building itself. It is built upon part of the rising ground upon which Beacon Hill is situated, and fronts the park, an extensive common planted with a double row of trees along the borders. The lower part of the building is constructed in a plain and simple style of architecture, with red brick, and surmounted by a large circular dome of the same materials, coloured yellow. The whole has a neat and ornamental appearance; but if stone had been substituted for brick, it would have then been a structure worthy of admiration, and honourable to the people of Boston.
</p>
<p>
The Park was formerly a large common, but has recently been enclosed, and the borders planted with trees. On the east side there has been for many years a mall, or walk, planted with a double row of large trees, somewhat resembling that in St. James&apos;s Park, but scarcely half its length. It affords the inhabitants an excellent promenade in fine weather. At the bottom of the park is a branch of the harbour; and along the shore, to the westward, are several extensive rope-walks built upon piers. At high water boats and barges can
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be admitted between the walks, which are all roofed in, and have large brick warehouses at the eastern end. Considerable quantities of excellent cordage are manufactured at these walks, and form an article of exportation to the other States. In the street next the mall, at the upper end of the Park, there is a stand of hackney coaches, superior in every respect to vehicles of that description in London. The horses and carriages of some of them are equal to the best of our glass coaches.
</p>
<p>
The other portion of Boston, which may with propriety be called the 
<hi rend="italics">
Old Town
</hi>
, is the seat of trade and commerce, and contains numerous streets, lanes, and alleys, crowded with stores, shops, warehouses, wharfs, and piers; taverns, coffee-houses, and porter-houses; insurance offices, banks, and state buildings; churches, chapels, and meetings. The extremity of this part of Boston is connected with Charlestown by a handsome bridge, similar to that which connects West Boston with Cambridge, but not so long.
</p>
<p>
Of late years considerable improvements have taken place in East Boston. Towards the harbour an extensive range of lofty warehouses have been erected upon India Wharf: they are built of red brick, with much neatness and uniformity. Offices for the merchants are below, and the upper part of the building is appropriated to the
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reception of goods. A short distance from these warehouses to the northward, is Long Wharf, or Boston Pier, which extends from the bottom of State-street, upwards of 1,750 feet into the harbour. Its breadth is above 100 feet. On the north side of this immense wharf is a range of large warehouses, extending the whole length of the pier. Most of the old buildings have been pulled down, and handsome warehouses, similar to those on India Wharf, erected on their sites. The ground floors of these warehouses are occupied by wholesale or retail stores, merchants&apos; offices, &amp;c. The upper parts are appropriated to the warehousing of goods. At the end of this pier there are upwards of seventeen feet water at ebb tide. On the south front of the warehouses there is a landing place of thirty or forty feet in breadth; but behind, on the north of the buildings, the landing-place is scarcely six feet wide. Both sides are generally occupied by the coasting vessels.
</p>
<p>
Along the water side there is a great number of other piers, which extend a considerable way into the harbour; these form as many open docks, or slips, which admit vessels of almost every size and draught of water up to the very doors of the houses. Viewing this sight from an eminence it has a singular and beautiful effect; the crowded masts and
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rigging of the vessels appear in the midst of the streets, and the colours of all nations are seen flying over the tops of the houses.
</p>
<p>
Several new streets, consisting entirely of large wholesale and retail stores and warehouses, have lately been built between State-street and the India Wharf. Very few of the merchants dwell in these streets; they generally have private houses in West Boston, about the neighbourhood of the Park and Beacon Hill. Boston is well paved, and has excellent foot-paths of flag stones. The streets, which in the old town are generally narrow and irregularly laid out, are for the most part clean and in good order. The markets are situated near each other, close to the water-side; and are supplied with every description of provisions in the greatest plenty, and at a moderate price. But they are crowded and confined by the surrounding buildings, and the narrow lanes and alleys in the vicinity. This, together with the number of shabby shops and alehouses in the neighbourhood, gives to this part of the town an unseemly appearance, which is still further increased by the litter and confusion unavoidable in a market-place.
</p>
<p>
As the city continues to increase in population and riches, new markets will doubtless be opened in other parts of the town. Improvements are still going on; and if Boston increases as rapidly as it has done since the revolution, every
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part of the peninsula will be crowded with buildings.
</p>
<p>
On the south side of State-street, near Cornhill, a very lofty and extensive hotel is building on a grand scale, under the direction of one of the principal merchants in the town, though I believe several others have shares in the concern. The person who is to manage the business is a Mr. Hamilton, who formerly kept a large hotel in Montreal, where he actually became a bankrupt from keeping too good a house. He possesses that liberal and generous spirit which will not suffer any thing to be wanted or complained of; and, unfortunately, there was too little liberality in Montreal to recompense him for his well-meant endeavours to please. I took the opportunity one day of going over the building with Mr. Hamilton; the plasterers and carpenters were at work, and he expected that it would be finished in the course of three or four months. The house is seven stories high, and stands, on a large extent of ground. It contains about 200 separate chambers for gentlemen; several long rooms for assemblies and dinner parties, an extensive bar and coffee-room below, with some smaller apartments for the use of the landlord and his family. This hotel, if properly conducted, will far exceed any thing of the kind in the United States, and perhaps be equal in accommodation, as it is already in size, to a