University of Virginia Library

TRAVELS
IN
THE INTERIOR OF NORTH AMERICA,
IN THE YEARS 1832, 1833, AND 1834.

CHAPTER I.

VOYAGE TO BOSTON, STAY IN THAT CITY, AND JOURNEY TO NEW YORK, FROM MAY 17TH
TO JULY 9TH, 1832.

Voyages to North America are become everyday occurrences, and little more is to be related
of them than that you met and saluted ships, had fine or stormy weather, and the like; here,
therefore, we shall merely say that our party embarked at Helvoetsluys, on board an American
ship, on the 17th of May, in the evening, and on the 24th saw Land's End, Cornwall, vanish in
the misty distance, and bade farewell to Europe.

Even when we were in latitude 48° 40′, and for several days afterwards, we had very
unfavourable weather and violent storms, which were succeeded, on the 10th of June, by calms.
On such days, shoals of dolphins crowded round the ship, and some men got on the bowsprit to
throw the harpoon at them. The mate was at length so fortunate as to drive his harpoon through
the body of one of these monsters of the deep, an event which was hailed with loud cheers. By
the aid of several sailors the heavy prey was drawn upon deck. The animal, after it was wounded,
made desperate efforts to free itself, and the harpoon had nearly given way, when the fish was
secured by a rope thrown under the pectoral fins.

On the following day we had some of the flesh dressed as steaks, which we found to be very
good; indeed, we preferred them to all other meat. I did not know, at that time, that I should
soon find dog's flesh relishing! It is necessary to remove the blubber immediately; because, if
this precaution be neglected, the flesh contracts a taste of train oil. The liver in particular is
excellent.

On the same day we were to the south of the bank of Newfoundland, and, therefore, steered
in nearly a northerly direction. On the 19th we were in a thick fog. White and other petrels flew
round us, with some gulls, and birds resembling sea swallows, with a forked tail. We sounded,
but found no bottom. On the 20th, however, we were on the bank, where, at half-past eight in
the morning, the temperature of the air was + 5¼° Reaumur, and that of the water, + 2¾°. At
two in the afternoon, with thick fog, the temperature of the air was + 8°; that of the water, + 4°.
We then had a calm, and sounded in thirty-five fathoms. Large whales and flocks of sea-birds
showed that we were on the bank. A hook and line being thrown out, we caught a fine cod,
from whose stomach clams were taken, which served as a bait for other fish. We were on the
middle of the lower point of the great bank, when large dolphins, quite black, called by the
Americans blackfish, swam rapidly past in long lines, alternating with porpoises, which threw
up white foam as they leaped and tumbled on the waves. A diver was shot while swimming, and
flocks of black petrels hovered round us. A dead calm succeeding, a boat was put out to give
chase to the latter. Fat was thrown out to entice the birds, and many of the little black petrel,
(Procellaria Pelagica), were shot, and also some of the birds, called by Charles Bonaparte, Thalassidroma
Wilsonii, which very nearly resemble each other in colour, as well as in shape. A snow
white gull (probably Larus eburneus) flew about the ship. On the 26th of June, we had been just
forty days at sea, and at noon were off the lower part of Sable Island bank, in fifty-five fathoms,
but did not see the island itself. We steered towards Nova Scotia, but the wind soon forced us in
a southerly direction. We had many indications of the vicinity of land, and from this time we
proceeded more satisfactorily, till the 3rd of July, at noon, when, to the joy of all, we descried land.
Cape Cod Bay lay to the south of us, about fifteen miles distant. It showed low sandhills,
with dark bushes on them. About two o'clock we could distinguish a lighthouse of moderate
height, with a windmill, and several other buildings. As the wind was unfavourable, we were
obliged to tack often, in order to sail into the great bay of Massachusets, which we did in the
finest and most lovely weather. The cool of the evening had succeeded the heat of the day;
the dark blue mirror of the sea shone around us, moved only by a gentle breeze, while a few
white or dark brown sails hastened to the coast, which was already veiled in the evening mist.

Sublime repose prevailed in this extensive and grand scene, our ship alone was in a state of
activity. Various preparations were made for the approaching landing, while we Europeans
looked eagerly at the distance. I had hoped in vain for a sight of the famous sea serpent; it

would not shew itself. I had, in the sequel, opportunities to speak with several American
naturalists on the subject, but they all looked upon the story as a fable.

The moon rose in the utmost splendour, and lighted up the unagitated surface of the sea,
and the fishing-boats which lay at anchor. Before midnight we saw Boston lighthouse, and soon
afterwards several other such lights on the coast, which are a most welcome sight, and increase
the impatience of the stranger in a remote quarter of the globe.

The following day (4th of July), on which I landed for the second time in the New World,
was the anniversary of the day on which America proclaimed its independence. Early in the
morning, the salutes of artillery resounded from the coasts, which we now saw clearly before us.
In the centre, in the direction of the city of Boston, was the white lighthouse, with its black
roof, on a small rocky island (see Vignette I.), and around it several little picturesque
islands, partly of white sand, with plots of grass; partly rocks, which adorn the beautiful
bay. At a distance we saw some low mountains, the coast covered with numerous villages,
obscured by the smoke of the gunpowder, and numbers of ships and boats sailing in every
direction, all adorned with gay flags in honour of the day. We passed in succession several
islands, the lighthouse, the telegraph, and drew nearer and nearer to the coast of the Continent,
diversified with gentle eminences covered with corn, or beautifully green as in England; and here
and there, in the bays and inlets, adorned with lofty trees. These coasts, with the numerous
white buildings of the towns and villages, presented a most charming scene in the splendour of
the morning sun. At length the long-expected pilot came on board, and in the bay, on our right,
we saw the city of Boston, and many steam-boats before it. The sea had no longer the blue
colour, but the green tinge which it has on all coasts, and was covered with medusæ, and the
leaves of the sea grass, which grows on these shores. The heat was very great, 18° in the shade,
by Reaumur's thermometer, on board the ship, when we cast anchor at India Wharf, Boston,
on the forty-eighth day of our voyage. The temperature in this oblong basin, which is surrounded
with large magazines of naval stores, was by no means agreeable at the moment of our arrival;
we, therefore, left the ship as soon as possible, and repaired to the Commercial Coffee House,
where we took up our quarters.

Boston, an extensive city, with above 80,000 inhabitants,[1] reminded me, at first sight, of one
of the old English towns; but various differences soon appeared. The streets are partly long and
broad, partly narrow and irregular, with good flag pavement for foot passengers; the buildings are of
brick or stone; but in a great portion of the old town the houses are of wood; the roofs are, for
the most part, covered with shingles; the chimneys resemble those in England, but do not seem
to be so lofty; the dark colours of the buildings give the city, on the whole, a gloomy appearance.

There are many important buildings and churches, which have been described by numerous
travellers. In the front of the houses there are frequently little plots of garden, next the street,
in the English fashion, planted with tall, shady trees, and flowers. Strangers will immediately look
for American plants, especially for those species of trees which are generally cultivated in Europe;
but, instead of them, they will observe only European trees, such as Lombardy poplars, Babylonian
willows, syringa hibiscus, chestnuts, elms, &c., and it was with much difficulty that I found some
stems of the catalpa, which was just then on the point of flowering, and some other native trees.
Besides the little grass plots, planted with flowers, in the front of the houses, there are, in Boston,
many plantations and avenues of very tall and shady elms, which, like the same species in
England, are remarkably vigorous and flourishing. Among these avenues, the principal is that
called the Commons, where there were fireworks in the evening of the 4th of July.

Washington-street is looked upon as the finest and longest street in Boston; its length is
nearly equal to that of the whole city. Here, as in the first cities of Europe, there are numerous
fine and elegant shops, with the most costly articles; and the productions of the West Indies.
Cocoa-nuts, oranges, bananas, &c., are nowhere to be found so fresh, and in such perfection as in
the seaports of North America. On account of the celebration of this day, most of the shops
were closed; but then the entire population seemed to throng the streets, and the gay crowd was
very interesting to strangers, as it was not difficult to catch the general features. Though a great
part of the Americans have much of the English stamp, there are, however, some essential differences.
The peculiar character of the English countenance seems to have disappeared in America,
in the strange climate; the men are of a slenderer make, and of taller stature; a general expression
of the physiognomy seems to be wanting. The women are elegant, and have handsome features,
but frequently a paleness, which does not indicate a salubrious climate, or a healthy judicious way
of living.[2] Straw hats, trimmed with black or green ribbons, were in general use. Cloth was
much worn, and everything was according to the newest English and French fashions. Among
the busy throng were a great number of negroes, who, in the Northern and Eastern States, have
been made free. Not far from the public walks was a small narrow street, almost entirely inhabited
by negroes and their hybrids. The stranger in Boston looks in vain for the original American
race of the Indians. Instead of its former state of nature, this country now shows a mixture of all
nations, which is rapidly proceeding in the unjustifiable expulsion and extirpation of the aborigines,
which began on the arrival of the Europeans in the New World, and has unremittingly continued.

After we had enjoyed a hasty view of the city, we returned to our inn, where we had an
opportunity of making ourselves acquainted with many new customs, differing from those of
Europe. It must be confessed that the arrangements in the large and much frequented inns of

the great towns in the United States, are, in many respects, inferior to those of Europe. The
rooms are very small, and all have beds in them: parlours, that is, rooms without beds, must be
hired separately. The hours for meals are fixed—three times in the day; and the signal is usually
given, two or three times, by ringing a bell. In general, a number of persons habitually take
their meals in these inns; they besiege the house before the appointed time arrives, and, when the
signal is given, they rush tumultuously into the eating-room; every one strives to get before the
other, and, for the most part, the crowd of guests is far too great, in proportion to the number of
the black attendants. Then every one takes possession of the dish that he can first lay his hands
on, and in ten minutes all is consumed; in laconic silence the company rise from table, put on
their hats, and the busy gentlemen hasten away, whom you see all the day long posted before
the inns, or at the fire-side in the lower rooms, smoking cigars and reading the colossal newspapers.
The hat, which the Americans seldom lay aside, except in the company of the women, is
always taken off at table, which is certainly no small exertion in this land of perfect liberty, as
Captain Morell expresses it. Elegance of dress is far more common in America than in Europe;
but then this is all that the gentleman in America cares about, when he has finished his mercantile
business, read the newspaper, and performed his part in the government of the State. I have
often been surprised at the crowd of idle gentlemen before and in the American inns, who spend
the whole day in total inactivity; and these elegant loiterers are, in fact, a characteristic feature
of these inns. Here, too, there is a peculiar arrangement, which many travellers have
noticed, and which we do not meet with in ours—I mean the bar-room, where a man stationed
behind the bar, mixes compounds, and sells all sorts of beverages, in which a quantity of ice and
of freshly gathered peppermint leaves are employed. Very agreeable cooling liquors are here
prepared, which the heat of the climate calls for. In the evening the European is surprised at
being desired to pull off his shoes before a number of people in the bar-room, and to exchange
them for slippers, which are piled up in large heaps. The attendance is, in general, indifferent.
There are scarcely any white servants, or, at least, they are almost useless; all menial
offices must be performed by blacks, who, though free people, are still held in contempt by the
Americans, who so highly estimate the dignity of man, and form a rejected caste, like the Parias
in India.

At the approach of evening, on the 4th of July, the whole population of Boston was in
motion; but the streets were soon entirely deserted, and all the inhabitants had collected in
the promenade, called the Commons. The sight was highly interesting. An extensive piece of
ground, covered with green sward, stretches in a gentle slope to the water, and is surrounded by
avenues of lofty, shady elms. Numerous paths cross each other in the centre, and here there is
a gigantic elm, with a wide-spreading crown, measuring from thirty to forty paces in diameter.
We regretted that the great crowd of people rendered it impossible to approach this fine tree, on

this busy evening. All Boston, rich and poor, was here assembled, in the most elegant dresses.
Groups were sitting, or lying in the grass; rows of tables and little stalls were set out, where
there was a real oyster feast, in which the people indulged to an extent that rendered the
appearance of the tables anything but inviting. As it grew dark, there was a very indifferent
display of fireworks, on the eminence, in honour of the day, the expense of which was defrayed
by subscription. Several companies of city militia had previously paraded the streets; they are
all volunteers, who equip themselves, and that in a very superior manner; but their uniforms are
very gay and motley, as may be expected, where every one is left to follow his own taste. Each
company, or troop, had a different uniform—one red, another blue, and, in part, richly embroidered
with gold. There were very few men in a company. It seemed very strange that the musicians,
who preceded them, were, for the most, in plain clothes of all colours, with round hats. "The
Yankee-doodle," the favourite popular song of the Americans, was heard in different directions; and
it is much to the credit of this motley assemblage, that there was no impropriety of conduct or
unseemly noise. The effect of the light on the mixed crowd of whites and negroes was very
interesting, and we enjoyed the scene till the coolness and damp of the night air made us retire
to our inn.

On the following morning, the shops were opened, and Boston resumed its usual appearance
of commercial activity. Our baggage was put on board a schooner bound to New York, to
which city I wished to go by land. Our next excursion was to the monument on Bunker's Hill,
from which there is the best view of the surrounding country.

Early in the morning we got into our carriages, and drove rapidly through the streets,
refreshed by the cool morning breeze, where many wagons were arriving with the productions of
the environs. We noticed vehicles of various descriptions, with four or two wheels, often with
an awning of linen, or leather, open at the sides, and drawn by two or four horses. The drivers,
generally in a white summer dress, with straw hats, sit on a bear skin, which is here worth eight
or ten dollars. On the causeway, out of the city, the dust was troublesome, but a number of
water-carts (like those used in the streets of London) were already preparing to water the road.

Boston is joined to the Continent by a narrow tongue of land, at the two sides of which
creeks, or bays run into the land. Over these creeks there are several long wooden bridges,
made to draw up in the middle, one of which leads, in a north-west direction, to the neighbouring
town of Charlestown; another, more to the south, to Cambridge, where there is a college, or
university. All these places have been described by several travellers. We took the road
through Charlestown, to the Navy Yard, close to which is the eminence on which the Bunker's
Hill monument is erected. The hill is called Breed's Hill, and immediately beyond it is Bunker's
Hill, where the English troops were posted during the battle fought in 1775. The Americans were
repulsed, and lost their leader, who was a physician. The monument in memory of this action

has been begun on the foremost, or Breed's Hill. The granite (Quincy granite) employed in it is
found in the neighbourhood, and is of a grey colour.

It was intended, originally, that this monument should be 210 feet high; it is now meant to
be only 180 feet high. What is already done is a pyramid between fifty and sixty feet in height,
which was covered with a temporary wooden roof. Withinside, a convenient stone staircase leads
to the top, and from the small windows in the roof, there is an incomparable view over the city
of Boston, Charlestown, the two inlets, the long bridges, the Bay of Boston, with its diversified
islands, and the ships with their white swelling sails, coming from, and bound to, all parts of
the world. Looking into the country, there is an alternation of verdant hills, numerous villages,
and dark woods; the whole forming a highly picturesque landscape. Cattle were grazing near
the monument, on the green hill; a well-dressed boy was employed in milking the cows.[3]

From Bunker's Hill we went to Cambridge, and had, on this road, the first sight of an American
landscape. Meadows, partly covered with arundinaceous plants, corn-fields, and European
fruit trees, alternated with small thickets and groves. The apples that grow here are said to be
yellow, and not particularly good; they are chiefly used to make cider. On almost all these fruit
trees we saw caterpillars' nests of extraordinary size, they being often a foot and more in
diameter. The butterfly which produces them must be in vast numbers, and it is surprising that
more care is not taken to destroy them. The road was bordered with trees, as is generally the
case here; we observed Celtis occidentalis, Lombardy poplars, partly lopped, and not growing to
any great height. The thickets consisted of oaks, with various deeply indented leaves, in general
of a beautiful shining green; different kinds of walnut, ash, and elm, which always attain a great
height here, and, where they stand free, the stems are clothed with thick boughs down to the
ground. The low thickets were of a bright green, and in adjacent meadows, which were partly
marshy, grew plants, much resembling those of Europe, such as Ranunculus, Pyrethrum, several
with white flowers of the genus Syngenesia; both a white clover and the red clover, common
with us, seemed to be generally cultivated, as well as potatoes, corn, and maize. This part
of the country has, on the whole, the European character—like England, for instance—but it is
even now more wooded, and pines of different kinds give a variety: the population, too, is
distributed in a different manner. In one of the nearest thickets, a little songster (Sylvia æstiva),
and some other birds, reminded me that I was not in Europe, but on the borders of the northern
part of the New World, and the beautiful Icterus Baltimore flew to the higher thickets;
and I very well distinguished its black and bright red plumage. These new objects gave

us great pleasure, and we only regretted that we could not immediately pursue them. On the
summit of the gentle eminences we came to Cambridge College, which is very agreeably
situated on a verdant lawn, shaded with trees, and surrounded by avenues of elms, Weymouth
pines, maples, ash, planes, and other shady trees. The buildings stand separately; and in all
the gardens of the neat habitations, we observed, in general, European plants — the rose,
syringa, hibiscus, and but few American plants, of which the trumpet tree was not then in blossom.
My visit might have been very interesting if I had known that Mr. Nuttal, one of the most
active naturalists and travellers in North America, held an office in this college.

On our return to Boston, we visited many of the curiosities of the city, which are enumerated
in various works. Among them I mention only the New England Museum, as in part, at least, an
institution for natural history, but where the expectation of the stranger is grievously disappointed.
These museums, as they are styled, in all the larger cities of the United States, except,
perhaps, the Peale Museum, at Philadelphia, are an accumulation of all sorts of curiosities, the
selection of which is most extraordinary. Here we find specimens of natural history; stiff, awkward,
wax figures; mathematical and other instruments, models, bad paintings and engravings, caricatures;
nay, even the little prints out of our journals of the fashions, &c., hung up without any
order. Among the animals there are some interesting specimens, but without any ticket or
further direction. This collection was placed in several stories of a lofty house, in narrow passages,
rooms, and closets, connected by many flights of steps; and to attract the public, a man
played on the harpsichord during our visit—a concert which could have no great charms for us.

Boston, however, has much that is worthy of notice, and numerous excellent institutions,
respecting which the many descriptive works may be consulted, which treat on the subject
more in detail than a passing traveller can do. As my time was limited, I took places in a
stage-coach that was to set out at noon for Providence, from Bunker's coach-office, at the Marlborough
hotel. The establishment of stage-coaches, and the mode of travelling in this country,
have been accurately described by Duke Bernhard of Saxe Weimar; I therefore merely say, that
we went in a commodious stage, with nine seats inside, and four good horses, which carried us
at a rapid pace from Boston to New Providence, forty-one miles distant, where we embarked for
New York.

The causeway was a good, solid, broad road, paved in some places, and very dusty at this dry
season; it led over low hills and plains. Near the city there is a great number of pretty, and some
elegant country houses; and as they became less numerous, they were succeeded by the houses
of the farmers and planters, which are spread over the whole country. All these farm-houses are
slightly built, boarded, and roofed with shingles; often grey, of the natural colour of the wood;
but many of those belonging to the richer class are neatly painted, and variously ornamented.
The walls, even of large buildings of this kind, are extremely thin, and one would think they

must be too slight for the cold winters of this country. It seems quite inconceivable that, throughout
the United States, you find only open fireplaces; and very rarely good stoves, against which
the Americans are prejudiced, because they are not aware of their great superiority. The business
of the occupant is painted on the house in large letters, as in England and France.

The road by which we travelled was often bounded by hedges, or by walls of blocks of
granite, or other kinds of stone, on which plantain, elder, stagshorn, sumach, &c., were growing.
In the low marshy meadows were willows, a kind of reed mace, cotton grass, rushes,
and, in the water, adder's tongue. Near the road, the hills, which here and there gradually
rise to a great elevation, are covered with shrubs and trees, among which we noticed some firs,
mixed with the other trees.

Juniper trees, from fifteen to twenty feet high, grew in all these woods, partly as underwood.
In the low grounds, near the road, we observed luxuriant tufts of various kinds of oak,
walnut trees—some with large shining leaves, chestnuts, now in blossom, and many other kinds of
trees cultivated in European gardens. Wild vines, with the under side of the leaves whitish, twine
round many of the bushes; but, in these northern parts, they do not attain a great height. These
thickets alternate with open tracts of land, where the peasants, tanned by the powerful American
sun, wearing large straw hats, were busily employed in making hay.

However small and poor the dwellings, we still saw at the windows, and before the doors,
the women, most elegantly and fashionably dressed, engaged in their household employments.
In this land of freedom, nobody, of course, will allow his neighbour to have an advantage over
him; hence we often see silk gowns, and the newest fashions of all kinds, in laughable contrast
with the poor little habitations. Small country carts pass the traveller, in which, beside the
owner, who drives, sits a country lady, handsomely attired, who looks like a copy of some
journal des modes. The dress of the countrymen is, in general, not so fine, but is, in some degree,
according to the man's circumstances.

We were much pleased with some thick forests of oak, with beautiful glossy (often deeply
indented) leaves, of a great variety of forms. Forests, consisting wholly of the Weymouth pine,
alternated with the oak. The trunks were large, but the height of the tree was not great in
proportion. Among them there was always a number of dead trees; others had a quantity of
bearded moss hanging on them; in a word, though so near to the habitations of man, and in a
cultivated country, they had more of the wild character of unreclaimed nature than our
European forests. In many places there were openings into dark forests, to a great distance; and,
now and then, into lovely valleys, with a lake or a river, where the white buildings had a very
picturesque appearance, contrasted with the dark woods and the green meadows. Mr. Bodmer,
however, was not satisfied with all these landscapes: he had expected to find, at once, in America,
forms differing from those of Europe; but these must be looked for under another zone; for, in

North America, the general character of the vegetation resembles that of Europe. In some
parts, we remarked in the meadows large stones, something like those in Westphalia, or in the
Westerwald, in Germany.

We changed horses at three places, at one of which we had dinner, which, as in England,
was ready when the passengers arrived. The regulations here have an advantage over those in
most parts of Europe, inasmuch as fees are nowhere given, so that you cannot be molested by
the importunity of the driver: on the other hand, the coachman dines at the same table as the
passengers. You are, however, pretty secure against the conversation of unpolished people, because
the Americans are usually mute at table.

Towards evening we reached Pawtucket, a neat town on the river of the same name, in
the state of Massachusetts. The place has manufactures of various kinds, and is animated by
trade and industry. The river empties itself into Narraganset bay, and is said to have falls of
fifty feet. We soon travelled the few miles from this place to Providence. The evening being
fine, the journey was very pleasant: the road was full of stages, cabriolets, farmers' wagons, and
smart country ladies, whose veils on their large fashionable hats waved in the wind; they were
generally seated in little chaise carts, the seats of which were covered with bear skins.

At Providence, which we reached before night, we put up at Franklin House, a respectable
inn. A crowd of idle gentlemen and other curious persons stared at us, and laughed
in our faces, when they found, by our pronunciation, that we were foreigners. We had to pass
some days here, waiting for the return of a steam-boat from New York; we therefore employed
this interval in exploring the town and neighbourhood.

Providence is a busy town, the capital of the state of Rhode Island, and situated on an arm
of the sea. It is built partly on sandy hills, partly on the low ground next the sea, has some
good new streets, and a brisk trade, as appears from the many ships at anchor. There is no
want of handsome shops, and several public buildings deserve notice; such as twelve churches,
several colleges, and other public institutions, which I forbear to enumerate. In the churches
the singular style of the architecture calls for censure:—they are of brick, with steeples variously
ornamented, but often painted with glaring colours; for instance, the lower part reddish
brown, with the frames of the windows and of the doors white; the upper part bright yellow
with white. There is a considerable degree of luxury at Providence. The women appear
in the streets in the most expensive dresses; and the country ladies (farmers' wives), whom I
have so often mentioned, dressed in silk, and wearing large straw bonnets and veils, bring
milk to market in little carts. This love of finery is quite a characteristic trait in the American
people; but it is, at the same time, an indication of prosperity; for it is true that, in this country,
there are neither poor nor beggars; and if you see people doing nothing, they are generally new
comers from Europe. Negroes and their coloured descendants are more numerous here than
in Boston and the northern parts.

The next day was Sunday, in the observance of which the Americans are very scrupulous.
All the people, with their books under their arms, proceeded to the churches, the bells of which
were very slowly tolled. The streets were quite still on this day, and all the shops closed; but,
then, numerous carriages and cabriolets, filled with finely-dressed people, were in motion. We
strolled about the surrounding country, which, in general, has a dead and rather sterile appearance.
Here, too, we saw, almost exclusively, European trees and flowers in the gardens; there
were, however, some peculiar to the country, among which the magnolia was now in blossom.

Intelligence had been received from New York that the cholera had broken out there, and
that numbers of the inhabitants were leaving the city. On the arrival of the Boston steam-boat,
the Captain confirmed this unwelcome news, which, however, did not deter us from embarking
in this fine vessel for New York. On the 8th of July, in the afternoon, we went on board the
steam-boat, which had above 100 passengers. The Boston was a large, handsome vessel,
about the size of a frigate. It had three decks; in the lower part was the large dining and
sleeping room, where above 100 persons were very well provided for. On the middle deck there
was a cabin for the ladies, with twenty-four beds. The numerous attendants were negroes and
mulattoes of both sexes, all free people. The vessel had two low-pressure engines, which are
thought to be less dangerous than the high-pressure engines, though the Americans affirm the
contrary. On the upper deck was a pavilion, with glass windows, in which, when the weather
was unfavourable, the company could sit and enjoy the prospect.

When all the passengers were on board, one of the engines was set to work, and when
we got further from shore, the other also. The low, sandy coast, partly covered with trees,
where towns alternated with forests, quickly disappeared. The sky was dark and cloudy, and a
cool, fresh breeze blew. We reached the strongly fortified town of Newport, where many small
vessels lay at anchor. The place is distinguished by three forts, and other fortifications, and a
lighthouse. When twilight set in we were already in sight of the open sea, which, however,
remained visible for a short time only, because we steered to the right, into the channel between
the continent and Long Island.

On the morning of the 9th of July, the sky was gloomy, and the sea much agitated. On
our left we had the coast of Long Island, which, in general, is not high, but has some more
elevated parts, with an alternation of sand, bushes, and brushwood. Some very picturesque and
diversified inlets run into the land. The channel becomes gradually narrower, and the beauty of
the landscape increases in the same proportion. One narrow place is called Hellgate: there are
here many rocky islets covered with sumach bushes (Rhus typhinum). At length, turning round
a point of the continent, a new and most picturesque scene presented itself. We were in what is
called the East River, an arm of the sea, open towards New York, which is connected with
the Hudson or North River, one of the most beautiful rivers in North America. At the conflux

of both, lies the city. The banks of the East River are like an English park, shaded by beautiful
copses and groups of lofty trees: the ground was clothed with the brightest and most luxuriant
verdure, with tall tulip trees, planes, Babylonian willows, Lombardy poplars, and many others,
alternating with green meadows, where there are neat, and often elegant country-houses; and
the eye is charmed by many fine prospects and a great diversity of scenery. Passing the Navy
Yard, which is situated on a point of land, the great city of New York, with its innumerable
masts, lies before you. As you approach and enter the broad and extensive piece of water
formed by the conflux of the East and North Rivers, you see the whole mass of houses, with
countless ships, which line both the banks to a considerable distance, with a forest of masts, to
which few other cities can present a parallel. The steamer landed us at a spot where, notwithstanding
the heavy rain, there was a great crowd of people collected. Porters, black workmen,
and coachmen in abundance, with loud cries, and much importunity, offered their services; and we
immediately proceeded to the American Hotel, a considerable inn, in one of the handsomest
squares in the city.