IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)
1.0
I.I
1.25
2.5
E -^ IIIIIM
1.4
1.6
m
V/,
*;.
^ >
e-
^.
A
'/
^^^
CIHM/ICMH
Microfiche
Series.
CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.
Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques
1980
Technical Notes / Notes techniques
The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Physical
features of this copy which may alter any of the
images in the reproduction are checked below.
L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Certains
difauts susceptibles de nuire ^ la quality de la
reproduction sont notds ci-dessous.
n
Coloured covers/
Couvertures de couleur
D
Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur
D
Coloured maps/
Cartes gdographiques en couleur
D
Coloured plates/
Planches en couleur
D
D
Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/
Pages ddcolordes, tachetdes ou piqudes
Tight binding (may cause shadows or
distortion along interior margin)/
Reliure serr6 (peut causer de I'ombre ou
de la distortion le long de la marge
intdrieure)
D
D
Show through/
Transparence
Pages damaged/
Pages endommagdes
D
Additional comments/
Commentaires suppldmentaires
Bibliographic Notes / Notes bibliographiques
D
D
D
n
Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible
Bound with other material/
Relid avec d'autres documents
Cover title missing/
Le titre de couverture manque
Plates missing/
Des planches manquent
D
D
D
Pagination incorrect/
Erreurs de pagination
Pages missing/
Des pages manquent
Maps missing/
Des cartes gdographiques manquent
D
Additional comments/
Commentaires suppldmentaires
The images appearing here are the best quality
possibie considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.
Las images suivantes ont 4t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettet6 de I'exemplaire film6, et en
conformity avec ies conditions du contrat de
filmage.
The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall
contain the symbol —►(meaning CONTINUED"),
or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever
applies.
Un des symboles suivants apparaltra sur la der-
nidre image de cheque microifiche, selon le cas:
le symbole — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", le svmbole
V signifie "FIN".
The original copy was borrowed from, and
filmed with, the kind consent of the following
institution:
National Library of Canada
L'exemplaire filmi fut reproduit grSce d la
g6n6rosit6 de l'6tablissement prdteur
suivant :
Bibliothdque nationals du Canada
Maps or plates too large to be entirely included
in one exposure are filmed beginning in the
upper lAft hand corner, left to right and top to
bottom, as many frames as required. The
following diagrams illustrate the method:
Les cartes ou Ies planches trop grandes pour dtre
reproduites en un seul clich6 sont filmdes d
partir dc i arigle sup^rieure gauche, de gauche d
droite et do haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images ndcessaire. Le diagramme suivant
iliustre la mdthode :
1
2
3
1
2
3
4
5
6
TI
^
THEOUGH CITIES AND PKAIEIE LANDS.
V''
THROUGH
CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
SKETCHES OF AN AMERICAN TOUR.
BY
LADY DUFFUS HARDY.
LONDON:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, LIMITED,
HENRIETTA STREET, CO VENI GAEDEN.
1881. '
J
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLBS.
TO
MKS. AVILLIAM HAYWOOD,
IX TOKKN
OK MY AFFECTIONATE RKIiAIU),
1 1)KI>I('ATK
THEsF. rA<;i;s.
a 3
CON^TENTS.
CHAPTER I.
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.
Our Good Ship Sardinian — At Sea — Our Companions — Their
Aniusenienta— The Theorist— The Phantoru Ship— Our Last
Nii'ht on Board
PACK
CHAPTlSR II.
QX3EBEC.
Land again— A Quaint Announcement— A Gastronornical Exhibition
—A Pleasant Fireside— The Convent— The Heights of Abraham
—Wolfe's Monument— French and English Canadians
12
CHAPTER IIL
MONTREAL.
The Stolid Indian— Mount Royal— Sir Hugh Allan's Hoine— The
Banks— The Windsor Hotel ... ... ... ... 25
CHAPTER IV.
THE CAPITAL OF THE DOMINION.
River Travelling— Trail of the Fire King— Ottawa— Parliament
Buildings— The City— The Home of our Princess ... ... 33
CHAPTER V.
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
On the Train— The Thousand Islands— At Kingston— Toronto—
The Government House — Arrival of the Princess Louise " We
expect the Moon "—Niagara Falls... ... ..». ... 44
Vlll
(CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
THE EMPIRR CITY.
I'AfiK
New York— Fifth Avenue— Mjulison S»iuare— Tho Elevated Rail
way— Tlu* Cars— The Shops— The People— West Point ... 5(1
CHAPTER VII.
TO THE PH(KNIX CITY.
We Start — Our Car— Our Drc8,sing-rooni — Chicago— Its Park — Tho
I'ahuer House ...
in
CHAPTER VIII.
WKSTWARD HO !
Our Travelling Hotel — The Prairies — The Emigrant Train— Bret
Harte's llerue.s — Reccjition of General Grant in the Wild West
— " See, the C juquering Hero conies " — The Procession ... 7«
CHAPTER IX.
ACROS.S THE ROOKY MOUNTAINS.
Our Fellow-passengers — Unprotected Females — Prairie Dog Land —
A Cosy Interior — Cheyenne — The Rocky Mountains — "Castles
not made by Hands " — Ogdeu ... ... ... ... 8(5
CHAPTER X.
THE CITY OF THE .SAINT.S.
Salt Lake— Our Mormon Conductor— Mormon Wives — Their
Daughters Their Recruits— Their Agricultural Population ... '.t7
CHAPTER XI.
AMONG THE MORMONS.
Society— A Mormon Wife's "Mew— The Shops— Amelia Palace—
The Tabernacle— The Organ — Endowment House — A Mormon
Widow— Currency in the Old Days— The Elders hold forth ...
108
CHAPTER XIL -^
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
Ogden Station — Bustling Bedtime — Boots — An Invasion — A Wedding
Aboard — The American Dosert— Tho Glorious Sierras — Cape
Horn— Dutch Flats— " Here they are ! "—A Phantom City ... 122
CONTENTS.
IX
PA (IK
5(5
CHAPTER XIII.
THE GOLDEN CITY.
FAQB
The Streets— Kaleidoacopic Scenes— Tho Stock Boards— Wild Cat
—Bulls and Boars— The Markets— The " Dunnny "— Lone
Mountain ... . . TU
07
CHAPTER XIV.
THE OLD MISSION.
The Windmills— The Golden Gate Park— Tho Seal Rock— The Cliff
House— The Mission Dolores ... ... ... ... 146
CHAPTER XV.
SOME SAN FHANCISOO WAYS AND CUSTOMS.
Street Architecture- Curiosities of Climate— Brummagem Baronets
—The Sand Lot— The Forty-niners— " Society Ladies " ... 153
8»)
CHAPTER XVI.
THE FLOWERY KINODOM.
A Visit to Chinatown— Its General Aspect— A Tempting Display-
Barbers' Shops— A Chinese Restaurant- Their Joss House—
Their Gods
166
CHAPTER XVII.
A WORLD UNDERGROUND.
The Pawnbroker's Shop — The Opium Dens — The Smokers — A
World within a World— The Women's Quarters ... ... 177
108
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHINESE AMUSEMENTS.
Gambling Dens— Theatres— An Acrobatic Performance— New Year's
Visits— The Bride— The Hoodlum— A Scare— The Matron's
Pretty Feet ... ... ... ... ... .,, igs
CHAPTER XIX.
„^ , CHRISTMAS ON A CALIFORNIAN RANCHB.
Old Friends- The Ranche— Christmas Day— Salinas Valley— A
Magic City— A Calif omian Sunset ...
197
X'
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XX.
IN THE VALLBy OF CARMELO.
PAGE
Monterey — The Ruins of the Mission — The Spanish Inhabitants of
the Old Town— The Moss Beach— The Lighthouse— The Pebbly
Pescadero — Good-bye ... ... ... ... ... 208
CHAPTER XXI.
ON THE BANKS OF THE BAY.
New Year's Visits — The Gentlemen's Day — Local Attractions-
Berkeley College — Saucelito — In Arcadia— Among the Woods
and Flowers — A Fairy Festival ... ... ... ... 218
CHAPTER XXII.
IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
Pleasant Retreats — Californian Trees- Canon and Forest Scenery
— Duncan Mills — A Stormy Evening— The Redwoods — Fare-
well to the "Golden City"
229
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SILVER STATE.
Snowed in — Indians — Journey to Denver — A Forage for a Supper —
"Crazed" — Domestic Difficulties— Colorado Springs — Cheyenne
Caiion— The " Garden of the Gods "— Ute Pass- -Glen Eyrie ... 243
CHAPTER XXIV.
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
The Road to St. Loiiis — The Kansas Brigcinds' Exploit — Picturesque
Population — Mississippi River — Washington — The Capitol —
Public BuUdings — Society — A Monument to a Lost Cause —
Mount Vernon ... ... ... ... ... ... 262
CHAPTER XXV.
THE QUAKER CITY.
Baltimore — Its Stony Streets — Druids' Park — A Stroll through the
City — Aristocratic Quarters — Washington Monument— Phila-
delphia — General Aspect — Picturesque Mai'ket Street — Fair-
mount Zoological Gardens ,,. „:.
276
I
CONTENTS.
XI
PAGE
208
CHAPTER XXVI.
SUMMER AMONG THE GOTHAMITES.
PAGE
A New York Summer— How they meet it— Airy Customs— Coney
Island- Rockaway and Long Branch— A Mountain Village—
Ellenville— View from " Sam's Point " ... ... ... 286
218
229
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE "AMERICAN ATHENS."
Aboard the Massachusetts— A Perambulation— The Electric Machine
—An Easy Way of committing Suicide— Boston— The Cars—
TheCommon— The "Glorious Fourth of July" ... 298
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FAREWELL VISITS.
A Visit to Longfellow— The Poet's Home— Dr. Oliver Wendell
Holmes— Newport— A Fashionable Watering-place- The Old
Town— The " Cottages "—Homeward ... ... ... 308
243
262
276
m
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER I.
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.
Our Good Ship Sardinian — At Sea — Our Companions — Their
Amusements — The Theorist — The Phantom Ship — Our Last
Night on Board.
It is the grey dawn of a July day ; we are up with the
sun, nay, before the sun, eager to start on our first
Atlantic voyage. In order to avoid the hurry and
bustle of a crowded Liverpool hotel, I and my com-
panion, for we are two, had resolved to start by the
first train, and go direct on board. Therefore, at six
o'clock on this bright July morning, we arrive at
Eueton Square station, and there find a host of friends,
who, in spite of the early hour, have gathered to bid us
" God Speed." They are all gift-laden ; one brings
books and bonbons, another a basket of rich ripe straw-
berries, then a patent corkscrew and telescope is thrust
into my hand, and last, though not least, just as the
train is moving out of the station, one late arrival
breathlessly gasps " Good-bye " and flings a packet of
pins, a box of matches, and a cake of scented soap in
at the window.
2
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
At Liverpool the little steam-tug was in waiting
to convey us to the vessel, which lay a short distanc
from the landing stage. It was a lovely July day;
the sun was blooming, like a flower of light, in the
bright blue skies, the tiny waves danced and mur-
mured joyously as they ran rippling along the shore,
and the soft balmy air, laden " with the briny kisses
of the great sweet mother," greeted us with invigor-
ating breath as we steamed across and stepped on
board the good ship Sardinian, ready to face the
fearful ten days which we had so often anticipated
with shivering and shudderings at our cosy fireside.
There was a hurried hand-shaking. " Good-byes "
and parting words resounded on all sides of us, uttered
in varied shades of feeling, some with a choking rfob as
of friends who would never meet again, others with
hearty cheerful voices, as though they were bound for
young life's first holiday. Presently stentorian lungs
shouted " all for the shore," departing friends and
relatives swarmed down the steep' wooden wall of the
vessel ; we all rushed to the side, nods andsrailes " that
were half tears" were freely exchanged, last words
were shouted from one to the other, and amid the
waving of handkerchiefs and echoing voices, the little
steam-tug which had brought the passengers on board
went shrieking and snorting back to the shore, and our
great ship steamed majestically up the Mersey, out
towards the obnoxious Irish Channel ; some weak-
minded mortals started with a hazy idea that if the
Channel treated them too roughly, they could, if they
pleased, land at Moville, and so bid " adieu " to the
horrors of the sea for ever ; but that was a cowardly
idea which I never encouraged for a moment.
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.
8
JS
d-byes "
uttered
2: dob as
3rs with
und for
ji lungs
ids and
of the
" that
words
mid the
le Uttle
board
and our
ley, out
weak-
if the
if they
to the
owardly
n
,t
My first idea was to take a survey of my fellow-
passengers. There were plenty of them ; as a rule they
were mere commonplace specimens of humanity, such
as nature turns out by thousands, with no distinctive
mark, but merely labelled "men" and "women."
There were exceptions of course. One was an elderly
hard-featured man, bronzed and weather-beaten, with
keen gray eyes, which looked as though they could
detect a spot on the face of the sun without the aid of
glasses, and so searching that, like the east wind, they
could reach the marrow at a single blow. But my
attention was most attracted by a very young and very
beautiful widow ; beautiful, so far as grace of form,
regularity of feature, and soft colouring was concerned,
but the beauty of her face was utterly destroyed by its
expression, which may be briefly catalogued as "■ evil."
She looked like a woman who had got a story, and not
a pleasant one. No accompanying friends had bid her
" good-bye," or " good speed." She was alone, but she
did not seem lonely. She carried a child about a year
old in her arms, and marched up and down . the deck,
looking neither to the right nor to the left, till the
gong sounded and we all went down to dinner ; but
before the table could be satisfactorily arranged the
question arose, " What was to become of the baby ? "
At last a young Scotchman volunteered to immolate
himself on the altar of beauty, and held out his arms
for the child ; she gave it without a word, and he dis-
appeared up the companion-way, holding it upside
down, which awkwardness may perhaps be excused,
considering that was the first time he had ofiiciated in
the capacity of dry-nurse.
The gilded glories of the saloon were a surprise to
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
me, as this was the first time I had been on an Atlantic
steamer. Of course, in common with the world
generally, I had heard of the luxurious arrangements
and admirably served table on board those magnificent
vessels ; but I had yet to learn how luxury and com-
fort combined could make that floating world a pleasant
ten days' home. The dreaded voyage turned out
delightfully. The Irish Channel behaveil beautifully,
literally " it broke into dimples and laughed in the
sun," as its rippling waves ran dancing round the
prow and along the black sides of our vessel, gurgling
and murmuring in smothered tones as though they
were enjoying a joke, exulting in their hidden strength,
knowing that their pleasant playful mood might pass
and their tiny wavelets grow into mountains and uplift
us in their giant arms and toss us up to tne moon, or
crush our huge iion-hearted home like an eggshell, and
swallow us all up. On we went, cutting a rapid way
through the calm waters ; the r!ayli>Q^ht and the land
together faded from our sight, the stars came out, and
as the silent night closed slowly around us, merry
laughing voices sank into quiot sober tones. We
seemed to realize the fact that W3 were alone on the
wide world of waters — the same living restless waters
whereon Christ had walked, and whose waves he had
bidden " Peace, be still." We retired to our cosy little
stateroom early, and slept as we had never dreamed
we could sleep on our first night at sea, our slumbers
soothed, not broken, by the musical " Yo, heave, ho ! "
of the sailors ; and the steady monotonous " thud, thud "
of the engine had a by no means unpleasant effect on
our drowsily unaccustomed ears. When we awoke in
the morning we found ourselves, not tossing, but
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.
gliding calmly over +lie " wild Atlantic waves," which
were rolling round us on all sides as far as the eye
could reach, a world of palpitating waters, unruffled
and smooth as the bosom of a lake. For three days
this calm continued. The masculine element grew
turbulent and rebelled against this unnatural state of
things ; there was something wrong about it altogether;
even the " rolling forties," from whom some show of
spirit was expected, forgot to do their duty, and allowed
us to ride over them without a protesting blow ; their
wild white horses were stabled in the caves below, and
with all sails set, a brisk breeze )llowing in our wake,
and the briny kisses of the " great sweet mother " on
our fjices, we scudded along at the rate of fifteen knots
an hour. We female passengers thoroughly appreciated
the stormless sea, and paced up and down the deck
chatting and exchanging harmless confidences ; the
gentlemen tried to beguile the time with ring-toss and
shovel-board. When they grew tired of such harmless
occupations they got up a walking match, or ran half-
mile races round the deck, and, indeed, in every way
did their best to scare away ennui, and make the mono-
tonous days and hours pass pleasantly ; for after the
first novelty of the scene is over, skies of eternal
changeless blue and calm summer seas are apt to grow
monotonous, and a thunderstorm or a howling hurricane,
" warranted harmless," would have created a pleasant
diversion. However, on the whole, time passed
pleasantly enough ; we were all sociably inclined, and
lived on strictly communistic principles, in a general
exchange of civilities. Everybody was welcome to the
belongings of everybody else ; we used each other's
chairs, rugs, wraps, and even made occasional walking
6
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
sticks of one another's husbands, and when we had
nothing else to do indulged in a game of speculation
concerning the " widon'-," who held herself aloof, in a
state of as complete isolation as though she had been
on a desert island ; she accepted courtesies without a
word of thanks, or refused them with an irapatieni
gesture, till the chivalrous spirit of the gentlemen
flickered and died out, and as she resented any offer of
assistance, she was left to stagger about the deck at her
pleasure. The child was the pet and plaything of
everybody on board; the mother seemed willing to
ignore its existence, and gave it only a kind of wooden
automatic attention at best. Nothing attracted or
interested her, and the beautiful dark face became a
weird strange mystery to us. We grew accustomed to
see the tall lithe figure pacing silently to and fro like a
shadowy ghost in the gloaming ; for long after the day-
light faded and the evening closed in she continued her
monotonous round, like a perturbed spirit that could
know no rest.
"We had a theorist on board, too, who by a sheer
habit of aggravation kept us lively. His theory was
starvation. Nobody ought to be sick, nobody ought
to be hungry; he pounced upon everybody with an
appetite of even the most moderate dimensions.
" My dear madam," he said in deprecating tones,
addressing an elderly lady who was modestly picking
a chicken-bone, " you are committing an outrage upon
nature ; she doesn't require that chicken-bone."
" I must eat to support life," said the lady apolo-
getically.
" Bah ! you can support life on the backbone of a
bloater ; as I say, you are outraging nature, forcing
ACROSR THE ATLANTIC.
things upon her that she doesn't want, and she will
revenge herself by disturbing your digestion and de-
pressing your spirits."
" My spirits are always depressed ; I don't know
what it is to be cheerful now,'' she answered in a.
lachrymose tone.
" Of course not. An overloaded stomach acts like
a weight to keep the spirits down. Look at me," he
added, slapping his ample chest and outstretching his
brawny arm, " Fm strong and healthy ; I nourish
myself upon— next to nothing, and I'm never hungry —
never depressed."
*' Ah, sir ! " she answered, shaking her head with a
^ar in her eye, " if you were in my place you'd never
be anything else ; but you don't know what it is to
lose your life's partner."
" Don't I ? Why, I've buried two ! This is my
third venture." He jerked his head towards a fair
pale little woman, whose appetite was evidently under
his control. " Why, when I first married my little
wife there," he added, regarding her affectionately,
" she used to eat three meals a day ; now she is reduced
to one."
" By the time you have reduced her to half a meal,
perhaps, she'll give you a chance of experimenting on
a fourth," suggested my companion ; which obser-
vation our theorist did not choose to hear, but sauntered
on, threatening one with apoplexy, scaring another
with visions of sudden death ; investing every-
body with the "ills that flesh is heir to," the one
inheritance that nobody is in a hurry to possess. Lob-
ster salad was alive with horrible nightmares, and
delirium tremens bubbled in the glass of sparkling
a
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
Moet and Chandon. On all sides his theory was
greeted with goodhumoured derision, and occasioned
much merriment, and though there was little wit,
there was much laughter among us. At last a living
contradiction to his theory stepped out from the com-
panion-way in the person of a fair-complexioned young
Englishman, a perfect athlete, broad-chested, strong-
limbed, a " crisp and curled Antony," brimming over
with the healthful vigour and vitality of young manhood;
he could run, row, leap, ride, and in every manly sport
had kept to the fore.
" Look at me," he said, " / eat four square meals a
day, and, perhaps, put more roast beef out of sight
than anybody here ; but do /look like a wreck? Just
feel my biceps."
" My good fellow," said our theorist, regarding him
with grave compassionate interest, " you have a good
constitution ; you are doing your best — but — you have
not had time to ruin it yet."
Our vessel carried a hundred and fifty steerage
passengers, with whom we had many a pleasant chat
on the forecastle deck ; some hoped to ply their trade
in the cities, some were going up the country. " We
can get plenty of land there, and never a stiver to pay
for it," said one burly man, with a large family of
small children. Somebody suggested that the United
States offered a wider field and less difficulties. " That
may be," he answered, " but I don't want to cut myself
adrift from the old country ; I mean my children and
their children after 'em, please God, to grow up under
the British flag. The stars and stripes are very well in
their way, but the Union Jack's good enough for me."
That was the general feeling among the emigrant
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.
9
classes; the vast uncultivated lands of the United States
might offer better fortune, but, they would not cut
themselves adrift from the " old country."
Our captain read prayers in the steerage night and
morning, but we first-class sinners had a religious
service on Sundays only. Every evening such sailors
as were not on duty gathered in the forecastle, and the
captain gave them an extemporaneous sermon, in
forcible homely language best suited to their compre-
hension, and allowed them to indulge in a goodly
sprinkling of Moody and Sankey's hymns.. It was a
strange and rather a weird scene, that narrow fore-
castle, with bunks all round, the long oak table, lit with
tiny oil lamps, flickering up in the swart grimy faces
of the men, as they' united their voices — and with all
their hearts, or at least with all their lungs — in praises
or thanksgiving, as they tramped on their " March to
Canaan's Land " or lingered round the gates of " Je-
rusalem the Golden."
In a pleasant desultory fashion the eventful days
passed on, the smallest thing affording us great diver-
sion ; once a shoal of porpoises gambolled beside the
vessel, tumbling and rolling over one another in their
fishlike frolics ; then a school of whales passed within
a quarter of a mile of us, uplifting their huge heads,
and creating a series of waterspouts by the way. Our
route was so far north that no other vessel had hitherto
crossed our path ; we seemed to have the sea all to
ourselves. One morning the exclamation went round,
"A sail in sight;" we flew to the bulwarks, but
nothing was visible to our unaccustomed eyes; we
watched, eagerly straining our eyes in the direction
indicated ; by degrees a kind of phantom ship, with all
10
THROUGH CITTES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
sails set, loomed upon our sight ; it seemed to hang sus-
pended on the very edge of the world between sea and
sky. We watched it breathlessly; but it came no
nearer, no clearer. Shrouded in mist, like a spectral
illusion, it remained a few moments in sight, and then
disappeared as mysteriously as it came, and once more
we were alone on the wide desolate sea. That evening
we had a splendid sunset ; the whole of the western
skies were draped with crimson, lighted up with flames
of gold. We watched its kaleidoscopic glories change ;
one brilliant colour fading into and amalgamating with
another, till the whole horizon was a gorgeous mass of
rose-tinted purple and green and gold, which presently
broke up, and drifted, and re-formed till the pale dim
skies were filled with floating islands of fire. We
literally felt as though we were sailing " into the land
beyond the sunset seas, the islands of the blest."
On the evening of the eighth day we sighted Father
Point, and sent up a rocket to summon a pilot from the
shore; three rockets, red, white, and blue, went
whizzing through the air in answer — " coming." In
another moment a white light, like a gigantic glow-
worm came creeping along the face of the water, nearer
and nearer, till the plish-plashing of oars brought a
cockleshell of a boat alongside, and the pilot, with the
agility of a cat, climbed up the huge black side of the
vessel and leapt over the bulwarks on to the deck.
Our pilot embarked, we were soon on our way
again. After the long uneventful days and nights, the
slightest occurrence amused and interested us, and that
day, to our unoccupied minds, seemed crammed with
adventures. As we paced the deck chatting and laugh-
ing, some warbling or singing snatches of old songs,
iwa}
'^im sigl
■
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.
11
we were startled by the appearance of a huge black
mass, which seemed to grow mysteriously out of the
darkness, with many-coloured lights swinging in the
empty air. It was the steam-tug which had come off
from Rimouski for mails and such passengers as de-
: sired to go on to Lower Canada; the lights swung from
[the '-hrouds and rigging of the vessel, and shone down
[with a weird eifect upon the bustling scene below.
[There was a general commotion ; impatient friends
fhad come on board to meet their relatives ; one after
[another eager ffices swarmed over the bulwarks, and
[welcoming exclamations and hearty handshakings
jand embraces followed their appearance ; the pleasant
greetings of the genial happy voices cast a momentary
cloud over our spirits ; our thoughts flew homeward ;
we knew it would be long before familiar faces and
friendly voices could give us greeting, and we half
(envied our fellow-passengers their welcome to what to
IS was an unknown land. But in the unknown there
is always a mysterious attraction, and before the little
steam-tug was well out of sight we were again buoy-
mtly pacing the deck, with never a thought or care
[beyond the present. It was a lovely night ; the stars,
[such big blazing stars, shone down like angels' eyes
through the dark-blue sky ; the waves sparkled and
danced beneath the light of the planet Jupiter, which
shone like a baby moon upon the dark face of the
water. We were all too nervously excited to care for
rest that night. We lingered long upon the deck, and
at last disappeared one by one down the companion-
way, our captain's cheery voice assuring us "we should
sight Quebec in the morning."
12
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER II.
QUEBEC.
Land again — A Quaint Announcement — A Gastronomical Exhibi-
tion — A Pleasant Fireside — The Convent — The Heights of
Abraham — Wolfe's Monument — French and English Canadians.
The next da/ we were up early, and went on deck in
time to see the first rosy flush break from the east, and
creep over the cool gray dawn. It deepened, and
widened, and spread, till the golden sun rose slowly,
and took possession of the pale blue skies, casting his
lance-like beams to the right and to the left, tinging all
things above and below with his heavenly alchemy, but
concentrating his light, like a crown of glory, on the
beautiful city which loomed slowly upon our sight out
of the shadowy distance.
With straining eyes we watched to catch the first
view of Quebec. We had heard of it, read of it, knew
of all the vicissitudes it had undergone, had looked
upon its pictured beauty scores of times ; but now the
reality was before us, and the picturesque beauty of its
appearance fully realized, if it ditl not exceed, our ex-
pectations. How few^things in this world ever do, that !
Something was no doubt owing to the extreme beauty
of the morning, the clearness of the atmosphere, and
the glowing sunlight that gilded the tall spires, flecked
1
QUEBEC.
13
the sloping housetops, till the china roofs sparkled and
flashed like a world of broken diamonds. Slowly we
steamed up the St. Lawrence towards our goal. It was
good to see land at last. The soft, picturesque river
scenery spread like a panoramic view on either side of
us — luxuriant, grassy mounds and meadows came
down to the water's edge, pretty villages were dotted
about here and there, with a background of swelling
hills, which rose higher and higher till they were lost
in the pine forests beyond. The distant jingle of the
church bells broke pleasantly on our ears after the long
monotonous plish-plashing of the waves. On our left
rose Pont Levis, a busy place or collection of houses,
churches and manufactories, creeping up a lofty hill
almost as imposing to look at as Quebec itself, and
with a tolerable amount of historical associations too,
though they have been swallowed up in the more
prominent facts of its more beautiful and picturesque
neighbour. It was at Pont Levis that the military
authorities bided their time, Piid held their discussions,
and arranged their manoeuvres before carrying them
into effect ; and it was there that General Wolfe waited
and chafed impatiently for the gray dawn which gave
him victory and death.
We disembarked at Pont Levis, and were ferried
across the river to Quebec. There our pleasant party
drifted away in different directions, some going north,
some going south ; there was much handshaking, many
good wishes J and hopes to meet again. We were very
sorry to part with, our theorist, who, with his delicate
young wife, went on his homeward way to Maine,
where we promised to pay them a visit before our tour
was ended. At the landing-stage, a forlorn-looking place
M
14
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
in a most dilapidated condition, we were surrounded
by a clamorous crowd of Irish and French, who made
a raid upon our small baggage, and struggled manfully
as to who should bear it off. However, while we were
looking helplessly around, we were rescued by the
timely advent of the hotel proprietor, who, through
the thoughtful kindness of our captain, had been
notified of our arrival, and had come down on the
look-out for us. He thrust the rabble to the right and
to the left, handed us into a caleche which he had in
waiting, and in another moment we were bowling
along through the lower market-place, on our way to
the St. Louis Hotel. With reckless speed we rattled
up the steep, stony streets, the breath almost jostled
out of our bodies, and clutching one another wildly in
our endeavour to keep steady, — on across the upper
and more aristocratic market-square, which is sur-
rounded by large handsome shops, past the puritanical-
looking Cathedral, a plain, barnlike building with a
tall tapering spire, and were at length deposited safely
at the door of the St. Louis Hotel, a commodious and
comfortable place enough for a temporary resting-place.
We were at once shown into a room on an upper floor,
having a beautiful view of the town and river. We
looked down upon a congregation of towers, turrets,
steeples, and housetops, with the Laval Museum stand-
ing out the chief feature below, and the Convent of
Gray Nuns standing square and gloomy on the hill
above. Having taken a brief look around, we in-
quired :
" When does the dinner-bell ring ? "
" Sure thin, there's no dinner-bell at all!" answered
a stout Irish lass.
m
'■'%■
QUEBEC.
16
" How shall we know when it is dinner-time ? "
" Oh, yez'U know ; 'e 'oilers."
She disappeared, leaving ns slightly puzzled as to
who would 'oiler. We waited a few minutes, and
then sure . enough, he did " 'oiler." A pair of sten-
torian lungs shouted through all the corridors, " Din-
ner ! dinner ! " The voice dwindled away, and went
wandering in ghostly echoes to remote corners and
distant chambers, circulating the fact in this most
primitive fashion that dinner was served. Having
eaten and drank for the last ten days under difficul-
ties, never being quite sure that our soup would not
find its way into our pockets, or our chicken fly into
our faces, and obstinately refuse to be driven into our
mouths, it was pleasant to find ourselves comfortably
seated at a table that wouldn't turn a somersault on its
own account, or send the crockery flying about our e.ars.
There were specimens of many nationalities at table,
with a fair sprinkling of the gentle Canadians them-
selves ; and here began a gastronomical exhibition. As
a rule (of course there are exceptions) people did not
eat, tliey bolted; flung their food into their mouths, and
sent their knives after it to see that it was all right.
Seated opposite to me was a round, bullet-headed man,
like a monk, " all shaven and shorn," with large ears,
which seemed to grow out of his head, not on it, and a
large loose mouth, that looked as though it could never
tighten, and had no idea of ever shutting itself firmly ;
but oh ! so much went into it ! He surrounded him-
self with the whole bill of fare, and then " fell to,"
demolishing one thing after another, till I fancied he
must have a fit of apoplexy or — burst. He handled
his eating utensils with such marvellous dexterity, that
16
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
wlien his knife flashed in the air and disappeared down
his throat, I watched for it to come out at the back of
his head ; but no ! it always came back. Weh, they
are used to playing with edged tools this side of the
water, and provided they do not compel me .to join the
game I am content.
The next morning we received a visit from the
Sanitary Inspector (who had been introduced to us
when he boarded our vessel for our bill of health).
He came accompanied by his wife and daughters on
hospitable thoughts intent. We were quite at home
with one another in half an hour, nay in ten minutes,
and in their pleasant home we spent many evening
hours. It was a musical household ; the young daugh-
ters, with fine contralto and mezzo-soprano voices,
warmed our hearts with some of the sweet home songs
which we thought we had left behind us. Our captain,
too, while he was on shore, occasionally dropped in and
enlivened us with the patriotic ditties in which our
souls delighted. Our mutual favourite was the thril-
ling ballad of the " Slave Ship." He would bring his
hand down with a crash upon the ivory keys, and
send a shrieking shiver through the chords as he
triumphantly announced :
" There's always death to slavery
When British bunting's spread."
His face beamed as though his individual hand was
striking slavery dead. When not patriotic he was in-
tensely moral, and the lesson of " Mrs. Lofty's jewels "
was so vigorously driven into our brain, we ought to
have been dead to the dazzle of diamonds evermore.
On the first day of our arrival we sallied forth to
QUEBEC.
17
see the town. The picturesque fascination of its first
appearance, which took us captive as we first steamed
up the St. Lawrence, lessened on a closer acquaintance.
" Distance lends enchantment to the view " in this as
in many other cases. It is a delightfully old historic
city, full of incongruities, and marvellous in its general
aspect of griminess and decay. The ancient buildings
do not seem to be enjoying a hale and strong old age.
They have a gray, worn look, as though they felt their
m' urnful position, and grieved that no hand was out-
stretched to save them from the ruin into which they
are fast falling. It seems as though time had robed
and crowned this quaint old town with historic fame
and interest, and then turned away and left it forlorn
and half forgotten ; for it has all the appearance of a
bankrupt estate, with little life or money left in it.
Its glory has departed, there is no doubt of that, and
the good folk are trying to destroy its picturesqueness
as fast as they can. We feel this as we stroll through
the long straggling up and down streets, their china
or slate roofs glistening in the sunshine. The houses,
some old, some new, represent every style of architec-
ture or non-architecture under the sun ; no uniformity,
no regularity anywhere. Some are built of red brick,
some of gray stone, with odd little latticed windows
breaking out in unexpected places. Some modern
occupants of ancient homes have discarded the tiny
twinkling panes, and replaced them with huge squares
of plate glass and other " modern improvements," mar-
ring as much as possible the quaint picturesqueness of
the old, without imparting the imposing aspect of the
new. The wooden pavements are in a generally rotten
condition, and the roads when they are not cobble
18
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
stones are full of ruts, holes, and pitfalls, wliicli makes
us s\^\\ for Macadam and all his host.
We pass througli the Governor's garden,- where a
huge placard warns "not to pick the flowers." But
never a flower is in sight ; only a growth of dank,
long grass, and a thick undergrowth of weeds of the
wildest ; thei/ flourish luxuriantly enough. We pick
our way over the stony pathway, and reach Dufferin
Terrace, a splendid promenade, which is and will re-
main for centuries a noble record written in stone of
Lord Dufferin's administration in Canada. It is fifty
feet wide and a quarter, of a mile long. It runs from
the fort of the citadel, on the edge of the quaint old
town, on the one side, and has a wide extensive land
and river view on the other, perhaps one of the loveliest
views in all Canada, for as far as the eye can see on all
sides there is a well- wooded landscape of undulating
hills and valleys dotted with toy villages and tiny towns,
with the beautiful river lying like a sheet of silver
below, winding and widening till it seems to fade in the
ftxr horizon, and is lost in the vast ocean beyond. Lean-
ing over the fanciful iron railing we look sheer down a
hundred and twenty feet into Champlain Street, the
St. Griles of Quebec, and out over the lower town. Here
on this splendid terrace the Quebeckers take their
evening promenade when the sultry day is over, for
if there is the slightest breeze stirring, it is sure to be
found here. Standing back, at about the centre of the
terrace, is the monument to " Wolfe and Montcalm,"
situated in a small square plat, " which is a garden
called," but which in reality is like the rest of the
public gardens here, a mass of tangled weeds and
briars. The renowned general himself looks as though
QUEBEC.
19
he was rather tired of standing there, and would gladly
descend to that oblivion into whidi all men great and
small must sink at last. It is only a question of time.
He is doing his best to get away from men's eyes, and
is crumbling to pieces as fast as he can. Already he
has no features to speak of, and his clothes are crumb-
ling from his back. He has stood there so long that
few people care to look at him now except strangers,
and they make such scornful remarks upon his gene-
rally dilapidated appearance as would make his stony
brow blush for shame if the stony heart could feel !
Would not all great men prefer to live in the memory
of their countrymen till their names become household
words in every home rather than be libelled in stone
and left to the gaze of unborn generations, to whom
their deeds or their works are as a tale that is told, —
long past, half forgotten in the greater mass of great
works which have succeeded them ?
We are not sorry to turn our backs upon the dismal
effigy of our hero and get into one of those delightful
waggons which are the pride of Quebec, easy, light,
well hung; while they serve all the purposes of an open
carriage, they shield you most effectually from the sun
or the rain, being open all round, and provided with
stout waterproof curtains, which can be drawn or left
undrawn at pleasure. In the course of half an hour we
find ourselves on the Plains of Abraham, where we can
indulge in a little poetic dreaming of our hero, and the
days that are dead and gone. Standing there and
looking round on that historic spot it is easy to send
our imagination travelling back to the gray dawn of
that misty morning long ago. There are Montcalm's
troops encamped around, sleeping securely on that lofty
20
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
and seemingly inaccessible height, their dusky Huron
and Iroquois allies hanging like a ragged fringe upon
their rear. Noiselessly and with muffled oarg Wolfe
and his gallant soldiers cross the river from Pont
Levis, and with catlike silence and agility climb the
steep sides of the cliff, gaining a foothold wherever
they can, hanging on by straggling bushes or jagged
edges ; one after another In stealthy silence they creep,
they swarm upward ; no clink of sword nor clang of
armour warns the sleeping adversary of their approach,
till In the gray dawn of the morning they gather, a
grim and silent army, on the Heights of Abraham in
the midst of the enemy, who are startled from their
sleep. We fancy we hear the bugles ring out, and the
hurrying to and fro, as the dust and fury of the battle
begins. It does not last long, not very long ; a few
hours decides the fat'^ of the picturesque old town.
Wolfe is wounded ; a gray mass is seen flying east-
ward. " They run, they run ! " a voice Is heard ex-
claiming. " Who, who run ? " asks the wounded
general. " The French, sir." " Thank God ! " he cries,
and falls back dead. An obelisk marks the spot where
he fell.
Having admired the splendid view from those lofty
plains, we turn on our way back to the town. The
suburbs of Quebec are very beautiful, being studded
with elegant villas, surrounded by gardens all abloom
with bright, sweet-scented flowers, that fill the air with
perfume. The Foye Road is especially remarkable for
its collection of palatial residences. Every man appears
to be his own architect, for each house differs from the
other, and all are built with more or less originality of
design, some highly ornamented, others remarkable for
QUEBEC.
21
their elegant simplicity. It would be difficult to classify
these dwellings with any recognized style of architec-
ture. It is strange to observe how entirely the French
and English Canadians keep apart. There is no inter-
course between the two. On the side of the French,
at least, there seems to be an undercurrent of the
old hostility still flowing, though it is never brought
actively to the surface, for they are a law-abiding,
peaceful people ; in their collisions with the Irish, it is
generally the Irish who make the first hostile move.
They will not learn English nor allow it to be taught in
their schools. You may walk for miles through this
British colony and never hear the sound of your native
language ; if you venture to inquire your way you will
be answered in a kind of French that is not spoken
in the France of to-day. They cling to the ancient
French of their forefathers, with no innovations or
modern improvements. The upper classes of both
nations keep as much aloof from each other as the
lower. It is seldom you meet a French family in an
English drawing-room, or an English family at a
French reception ; for those little social dissipations do
occasionally take place, though, as a rule, life seems to
flow on in a dull, sluggish fashion in this quaint,
historic town. Religion is the only thing that seems
to keep itself lively, for the air bristles with church
spires, like drawn swords flashing in a holy battle,
pointing upwards. Week days and Sundays, and, as
it seems to us, at all times and hours, the bells ring out
their musical, rhythmical chimes. The Cathedral has
a splendid peal of bells, which play " The last Rose of
Summer" and some other English melodies with ex-
quisite sweetness and precision. It was pleasant to
22
TIIllOUOII CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
hear the old home tunes clang out beneath the blue
Canadian skies.
Throug'h the kind interest of our new friends
we gained entrance to the Convent of Gray Nuns.
By a low arched doorway we entered a small stone
hall, with a staircase on one side and a narrow aper-
ture on the other, where the face of an aged nun
appeared as she received or gave messages. We re-
ceived instructions to go upstairs, and went; we
passed locked doors and chambers barren of furniture,
except, perhaps, a few bare benches ; we could find our
way nowhere, and after lingering for awhile in these
empty chambers, haunted by the ghostly echo of our
own footsteps, a door opened and a voice bade us enter.
In another moment we had the pleasure of presenting
ourselves to the reverend mother, who was seated in a
light, airy room, the first of a semicircle of nuns, who
were saved from contact with us worldly folk by a par-
tition of wooden railings, which reached from the floor
to the ceiling. There was no space through which
we could even shake their saintly hands. Conversation
under these circumstances was difficult, originality was
impossible; we could make no semi-confidential inquiry
or insinuating remark with those twenty pairs of
smiling eyes upon us, each keeping guard over herself
and her neighbour, and all being under the " right
eye " of their " Mother Commander," Any idea we
might have entertained of digging below the surface
and getting a glimpse of conventual life perished on
the spot. They had evidently no intention of ex-
tending their favours further. A view of their bare-
benched 'chambers and of themselves was considered
privilege enough. " The secrets of their prison-house "
sB^m'
■
Ife
QUEBEC.
23
blue
were closed from our unhallowed eyes. Once only in
living memory had the convent been unreservedly
tlirown open to the eyes of the outer world, and that
was on the occasion of the visit of the Princess Louise
a few weeks previously. Even the simple event of our
cominc: must have created some little excitement, for
we were advised' that many of the nuns then present
had not seen a face from the outer world for forty
years until the Princess came amongst them.
In reply to our few commonplace inquiries or
remarks, they tried eagerly (speaking all at once or
echoing one another) to assure us of their perfect hap-
piness and content, so earnestly indeed as to make us
doubt the fact. Yet they certainly had a look of peace
and content; not the content that is born of the fulness
of joy, or is the result of a happy, busy, useful life, but
the peace that is born of sorrow, or of inward struggles
and battles, fought out in loneliness and silence ; for
human nature robbed of her rights will chafe, and
struggle, and rebel, till she is broken down and taught
to waive her rights in this world that she may grasp a
higher right in the next. For that she waits. .
The luxurious comfort and bright, sunny aspect of
the Father Confessor's chamber (he is the only male
allowed upon the premises) was a striking contrast to
the nuns' bare chambers. He was a small, wizened old
man, with the simplicity of a child. Whether he
possessed the "wisdom of the serpent," I query — though
how that interesting reptile has proved its claim to
wisdom 1 fail to comprehend. He showed us his
photographs and his sample curiosities with as much
pride as a child shows its prize picture-book, and
attached as much importance to the most trifling
24
TUROUGH CITIKS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
things. lie was the proud possessor of tlio skull of
Montcalm, and all that is left of that heroic general
grinned at us with socketless eyes from beneath a
glass case where it reposed on a velvet cushion. "Alas!
poor Yorick." He pointed out where some teeth had
been extracted without the aid of dentistry ; they had
been stolen by some British tourists to whom he had
exhibited his treasures. He had been spiritual adviser
to that world of lonely womanhood for forty-five years,
and very rarely went abroad. Well, we took our last
look of him, of our friends, the Duiferin Terrace, and
the quaint old town, with much regret. We had taken
our berths on board one of those palatial river steamers,
which are indeed like four-story houses afloat, replete
with the most luxurious accommodation, with balconies
running round every story, elegant drawing-rooms for
the ladies, smoking and billiard-rooms for the gentle-
men, and a capital cuisine for everybody's benefit.
Slowly we steamed up the St. Lawrence, keeping our
eyes fixed upon the gilded spires and steeples of
Quebec till the haze of distance shrouded them from
our view.
( 25 )
CHAPTER III.
MONTREAL.
The Stolid Indian — Mount Koyal— Sir Hugh Allan's Ilomo-
Banks — The Windsor Hotel.
-The
We were roused at a most unearthly hour in the
morning, the bells were rin^^ing, the engine shrieking,
panting, and struggling like a refractory steed who
rebels against the will of his rider ; but it was brought
to a standstill at the landing-stage at Montreal, and we
were turned out only half awake among droves of bellow-
ing cattle, bleating sheep, and generations of grunting
pigs, from the huge sow, half a ton weight, to the tiny
squeakers a month old. "We dodged the horns of the
cattle and scrambled into the hotel omnibus as best we
could. Then we took breath and scanned the scene
around us. All was or seemed to be in a state of
" confusion worse confounded," men and cattle seeming
to be inextricably mixed together. The shouts of the
one and the bellowing of the other shook the air, and
filled our ears with discord. A posse of Indian squaws
and " bucks " stood leaning along the wharf, watching
us with expressionless eyes and immovable stolidity of
countenance. They might have been statues of bronze
for any signs they gave of life. If the playful earth-
26
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
m
quake had paid a sudden visit to the shore and swal-
lowed us up, I doubt if they would have moved a
finger or quivered an eyelid. They all wore ragged
red shawls or striped blankets wrapped round them,
.their dark ftices and black beady eyes looming out from
a mass of thick unkempt hair. This was the first time
the untamed savage on his native soil had crossed our
path, and I must say they were the most revolting
specimens of the human race. It is simply impossible
to regard them as " men and brothers," and tlie more
we study the nature, character, and capabilities of
these people, the more firmly are we convinced of that
fact. Civilization, with its humanizing principles, may
struggle with the difficulties, but it will never over-
come the inborn blindness of the savage race. They
have not the powder to comprehend our codes, nor to
feel as we feel. Much has been said of their treachery
and cruelty, but oppression creates treachery, and tliat
they have been oppressed and hardly used, driven from
their native hills and plains to a strange world, which
is as a sealed book to them, of which they neither
know the letters nor the Ian .iiyge, nobody can deny.
Regarding their cruelty, it is i^ quality native born,
and directed not against the white race especially ;
they are cruel to themselves, to one another, and
delight in lacerating and torturing their own flesh,
regarding (as did the Spartans of old) the endurance
of bodily pain as a virtue, courting it as a good rather
than avoiding it as an evil, as we more civilized folk
are a[)t to do. This is not meant as an extenuation of
the Indian's malpractice, who in reality only carries
out the instincts of his nature. The dog, poor brute,
cannot help being mad, but it must be got rid of.
^-^i*
MONTREAL.
27
Looking on these people, with their low brows and
the animal expression on their expressionless faces,
we felt there might Ibe some truth in Darwin's theory
after all.
Our Jehu cracked his whip, and his bony steeds
began to move slowly through the noisy throng. The
wharf was swarming with a busy population loading
and unloading the many trading vessels which w^ere
drawn up by the river side. We passed under a crank
of squeaking pigs, which were being swung through
the air and lowered on to the deck of the vessel, pro-
testing with all their swinish lungs against such unna-
tural elevation.
There is a slight rise in the ground as we wind
our way from the waterside, but on the whole the
city is built on a flat, level plain, lying where the St.
Lawrence and Ottawa rivers meet, stretching away,
and widening through handsome squares and streets
till it reaches the "mountain." It runs round it,
covers its feet with pretty villa residences, but never
attempts to climb or disfigure its green sides with
bricks and mortar. There are no building-plots to
let there, for Montreal is proud of its Mount Royal,
and keeps it for the pure pride and glory of it. Sir
Hugh Allan, the head of that splendid line of steam-
ships bearing his name, has built an elegant and
palatial residence there a;- the foot of the mountain.
I am by no means sure that he has not encroached
upon it, and planted his greenhouses in its arms, and
sent his garden creejDing up its soft velvet sides. But
Sir Hugh is a benefactor to the city, a pleasant
gentleman, and a great favourite with every class of
people ; no doubt if he even wanted a slice of
28
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
I
M
il
IH
the mountain he might have it, especially if he was
willing to pay handsomely for it. This beautiful
" Mount Royal " is much more than its name indicates.
It is a perfect sylvan retreat, full of shady groves and
bosky dells, luxuriant in its growth of wild fruits and
flowers. Fine trees, with gnarled bark and wide-
spreading, leafy branches, stand here and there in
shady groups, while whole colonies of birds are singing
the summer day through. There are whole battalions
of nut trees and straggling blackberry bushes skii-
mishing round, each struggling to get a sight of the
sun, eager to be the first to ripen and fall into the
hands of the young children who come " a black-
berrying " in the golden autumn days. There is not
a single barren spot on the whole mountain ; it is one
garden of green, with tiny rivulets of living water,
laughing and gurgling as they fall from its grassy
crown to its moss-covered feet, which stand on the
fringe of the city.
This is not one of the mountains which taxes your
energies from the beginning, and makes you pay ever-
lasting toll in the shape of aching limbs and weari-
ness of spirit, using the sun's rays as a kind of airy
razor to scrape the skin off your face and peel your
hands till you can scarcely prod its rugged sides with
your alpenstock. After much trouble and tribulation,
with your clothes dragged off your back, the result
of the hauling process common to your guides, you
reach the top at last, and stand blowing like a gram-
pus on its bald, white head, while you look round
upon the wonderfully wide and extensive prospect you
have risked so much to see. The sun laughs in
your face, withdraws his forces into cloudland, and
^'t^h^*'
MONTREAL.
29
DO tne
black-
is not
;-
is one
svater,
grassy
n the
flings a white misty veil over the world below. You
see nothing but mist, mist everywhere ; your very
brain seems to get frozen and foggy ; but what does
that matter ? you come down exulting that you have
scaled the precipitous mountain. But you will not
own, like Sir Charles Coldstream, that you found
" nothing in it." Well, Mount Royal is not one of
these. Like a vain and beautiful woman it likes to
show itself off to the best advantage, and has a capital
smootli road, where you can either drive in cosy car-
riages or walk on foot through a pleasant winding
way, through leafy shade and blooming flowers, till
you reach the top. You can return by another road,
which lands you about three miles from the town.
The city is never out of sight during the whole
progress up the mountain. But from one special point,
which is always indicated to the traveller, there is a
remarkably fine view of the entire city and its sur-
roundings. There is the broad river, studded with
green islets, spanned by the famous Victoria Bridge,
certainly one of the handsomest, and they say the
longest and costliest, in the world ; beyond it the
opposite shore stretches away, breaking into small
towns or villages till it is lost in the distance ; while
beneath our feet the city itself lies clearly defined
under the deep-blue skies. The white, gray, or red
tiled roofs of the houses, church spires, convents, —
square and ugly in massive gray stone, — public build-
ings, and Cathedral towers rise out of a forest of
green, for the houses generally are surrounded by
gardens, and the wide streets are bordered on each side
by grand old trees, the relics of the ancient forest, on
whose hoary head the city now stands and holds its
30
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
ii!
I
I
place among the first cities of this Western world.
The trading portion of the town, where commerce in
every imaginable form is briskly carried on, is lined
with handsome shops, hotels, and banking-houses. As
we passed by one of the most important of these latter
we were stopped by a vast crowd, which thronged the
doorway and surged and overflowed across the street,
and effectually blocked all progress. A placard was
on the door, " Stopped payment," and a sea of human
faces, waves of excited, desperate passions sweeping
over them, surged round us. On every side we read
signs of wrecked hopes and ruined lives. Some, with
sullen, despairing faces, went silently on their way ;
others gesticuLited fiercely, with threats and curses
" not loud but deep." Some hysterical women were in
tears ; others crept out of the crowd with white, wan
faces, broken down and crushed utterly ; they had no
voice even to complain or bemoan. Gradually we
made our way through this mass of miserable people,
and went on through the populous streets, across fine
s(piares, past handsome monuments, all of which are
kept in perfect order and neatness. Wherever there is
room for a statue, there stands Victoria robed and
crowned.
Everywhere in this beautiful city there are de-
lightful promenades ; on either side of the spacious
streets are elegant villa residences, with tastefully
arranged gardens, a light, fanciful railing only sepa-
rating them from the footway, and sometimes not even
that. You may enjoy a perfect feast of the beauty
and perfume of flowers as you saunter beneath the
trees which border the footway, their overhanging
branches forming a perfect shade and bower of green.
MONTREAL.
31
Here, as in many other Canadian cities, tliree-fonrtlis
of the population are Catholics, and their churches and
Cathedral are among the finest architectural buildings
in the city, where churches of all denominations
abound. Christ Church Cathedral (Episcopal) is, they
say, the finest specimen of English Gothic architecture
in America. It is built of Caen and Montreal stone.
From the centre of the cross rises a spire 224 feet
high ; the choir stalls are splendidly carved, and the
nave is supported by columns carved in imitation of
Canadian plants ; but an adequate description of the
ohurclies, convents, or museums, here and elsewhere,
would each require a volume to itself, and those who
require that special kind of information will find it in
every local guidebook. . Going the general round of
these places forms no part of my programme. Such
special descriptions are only needed for special objects,
and in nine cases out of ten are both wearisome and
uninteresting. In their Continental experiences people
rush through miles of picture galleries, and visit scores
of churches, believing it to be their duty so to do, but
at the end of the day few have a distinct impression of
any perfect thing. The mind reflects only a confused
mass of gorgeous colouring, stained glass windows,
groined roofs and arches, all mixed up together, and
when they sit down to think things over it is with the
greatest difficulty they summon one distinct picture
before their mind's eye.
Last though not least among the attractions of
Montreal, is the number of its commodious hotels,
among which the Windsor stands pre-eminent. It is
built at the highest point of the city, under the sliadow
of the mountains, and for comfort and luxurious ap-
32
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
pointments is second to none, either on this side of the
Continent or on the other. The charges here, as in all
other first-class hotels, vary from two and a half to five
dollars per day, inclusive, according to location of
rooms. This is most moderate when compared with
our home charges, where the extras and sundries
swell the bill till it is ready to burst with its own
extortions.
)f the
in all
five
)ii of
with
idries
own
( 33 )
CHAPTER IV.
THE CAPITAL OF THE DOMINION.
River Travelling— Trail of the Fire King— Ottawa— Parliament
Buildings— The City— The Home of our Princess.
The journey from Montreal to Ottawa is for the most
part dull and uninteresting. We have half an hour's
train, through a rough ragged country, laden with
straggling bushes, rank grass, and charred tree stumps ;
then we take the boat and steam along the river, a
broiling sun overhead and flat barren country on either
side. There being nothing attractive or interesting in
the surrounding scenery, I betake myself to the general
saloon, which is a perfect bazaar, with knickknackeries
of all kinds, and books and newspapers for sale. I
invest a dollar in literature of the lightest kind and
ensconce myself on the most comfortable lounge I can
find, and in rather a limp drowsy state try to keep
myself awake.
My companion, aglow with the delights of travel-
ling, rejoices in the inconveniences thereof, and sits
broiling in the sun, which seems inclined to have no
mercy upon anybody. It glares down with its fierce
fiery eye, breathing a hot sultry breath over every-
thing everywhere. The land on either side is a plain
34
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
: !
of brown dried-up grass ; a few lean hungry cattle are
straying hither and thither, browsing on the dry
breast of mother earth. Brown bare-lef>:o;ed children
w^ade into the river ; some cast off their rags and leap
in, splashing about, laughing as they play at " catch-
who'Can." When they are tired they come out and
lay themselves out to dry in the sun. The water has
a sultry sleepy look. It is as clear and still as a glass
mirror, but we wake it into fury as our iron steed
tramps through it ; it hisses and runs after us, snarling
with its white foam lips as it closes in our wake, and
under the blazing sun our vessel steams on. The deck
blossoms with umbrellas, which look like gigantic toad-
stools growing out of scores of human heads. Some
put cabbage-leaves in their hats and hang silk hand-
kerchiefs down their backs, as a kind of protection
from the sun's keen rays ; but they will not sit down-;
they wander in and out of the saloon, like evil spirits
that can know no rest ; they like to get bronzed with
the sun and sultry air, and as a rule are not satisfied
till the skin peels off their faces and the tips of their
noses require a bag for protection. I lean back on my
luxurious lounge in a rather sleepy state, and am fast
drifting away into a land of dreams when I am roused
by the loud prolonged sound of the dinner-gong, and
we all crowd down, helter-skelter, to the dining saloon,
where our captain, a big burly man, sits at the head of
the table, with sundry roasts and fancy dishes smoking
before him. We speedily sj3oil our appetites, and leave
but a mere wreck of bare bones and skeletons. One
dish contains Indian corn cobs about a quarter of a
yard long, looking white and tempting with their
granulated covering. Believing they are some stuffed
THE CAPITAL OF THE DOMINION.
35
&'
and
if
■M
-'4%
delicacies 1 ask for a small piece. A smile goes round,
and I receive a whole one on my plate. What am I
to do with it? I glance at my neighbours. Every
one is holding a cob with his two hands, and, begin-
ning at one end, nibbles along as though he were
playing a flute till he gets to the other, repeating the
process till the cob is stripped of its pearly corn. I
don't think it is worth the trouble of eating, though it
is considered a great dainty on this side of the Atlantic.
About two o'clock we reach Carrillon. The rapids
bar our progress up the river ; a train runs alongside
the vessel ; we are soon seated in a comfortable car,
and have a two hours' railway journey through what
was once a magnificent forest, but is now wild waste
land, a terrible fire having swept over it some few
years ago, destroying and devouring all before it —
farm-houses, flocks, n\\ animate and inanimate things
— leaving here and there groups of tall spectral trees,
standing weird and ghostly in the summer sim. Here
it had feasted greedily and left nothing but charred
roots and fantastic tree stumps straggling over the
ground. One spot on the line of that terrible fire was
pointed out to me as having once been a flourishing
farm ; but the fire fiend swept down upon it in the
night, when the inhabitants were all in their beds
asleep. The man rushed out with his wife and child
and crouched down in a potato field, trusting that the
storm of fire might pass over them ; but the red-
tongued flames came leaping along and drove them
into the river, and all night long he stood up to his
neck in water, supporting his wife and child. The
great white moon shone out serene and peaceful in the
calm blue skies. Not a breath of air was stirring, not
36
TriROUGII CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
a sound was heard but the tramp of the fire king as he
roared on his blazing way. In the morning they were
saved, but the terrible flames had licked the life out
of all wayfarers who had barred its progress and left
their blackened skeletons grinning in the sun. After
a rush of two hours through this weird wild scene we
reach Grenville. There we take boat again and steam
on till we find ourselves at Ottawa, about six o'clock in
the evening.
The approach to this city, the capital of the
Dominion of Canada, is by no means imposing ; the
face of the river is covered and its mouth filled with
sawdust ; it is stilled, and has scarcely strength to
flow, it could not burst into a smile, or r'pple under
the most tempting of summer suns. Immense booms
of timber, which have been floated down from the
" forest primeval " hundreds of miles away, float still
on the river surface till they are hauled up to feed the
hungry mills, meclianical giants, whose rasping jaws
work day and night crushing these sturdy " sons of
the forest," cutting them in slices and casting them
forth to be stacked in huge piles along the river-banks
miles before we reach the town. There is no bustle or
confusion on our arrival there. On the quiet little
landing-stage two or three lumbering vehicles are
waiting ; we are escorted to one of these by our
chivalrous captain, who carries our hand baggage, and
superintends the removal of the rest. A little girl,
about ten years old, follows us, with a dog almost as
big as herself, and looks up at us shyly.
" My little Ir , ladies," observes our captain, his
face wrinkling and his eyes twinkling with smiles ;
" she comes down every evening to ' meet father.' It
Tin: CAPITAL OF THE DOMINION',
37
wouldn't seem like coming home if I didn't find Nellie
here."
With a proud fatherly air he takes the child's hand,
the dog trotting behind them as they ascend the
stony hill towards a gray cottage of rough-hewn slate,
which he has pointed out to me as " home." We turn
on towards our destination in Nepcan Street, where
we find ourselves so comfortably located, that instead
of staying a few days, as we originally intended, we
resolve to remain some weeks.
Through the good offices of Mr. Leggo, a popular
and most enthusiastic Canadian, we made the acquaint-
ance of Lieutenant-Colonel Dennis, one of the oldest
pioneers of the state. Those gentlemen were like
animated encycloptcdias on all matters regarding
Canada ; from them we received more information in
a few weeks than we could have gained on our own
account in a year.
Our first day in Ottawa was spent in visiting the
Parliament buildings, which occupy a plateau of about
thirty acres on the loftiest point of the city and nearly
two hundred feet above the Ottawa River ; they are
surrounded by beautifully laid out gardens, and seem
to be growing out of a bed of soft greensward of velvet
smoothness. They are composed of cream-coloured
Potsdam stone, the ornamental part being of Ohio and
Arupois marbles ; they are built in the Italian Gothic
style of the thirteenth century, and I am told they are
the most beautiful specimens thereof in all America,
perhaps in the world. Their elevated position, with
their long lines of pointed windows, massive buttresses,
and numerous pinnacles and towers, silhouetted against
the bright blue sky, are objects of imposing and
mw
38
TllKOUUII CITIES AND PKAllUK LANDS.
i
lliii,
Till
lljlni!
majestic beauty for miles around. In the front centre
stands the Victoria Tower, one liundred a,nd eighty
feet hi,i>'h, and surmounted by an iron crown. The
chief entrance to the building is through the broad-
pointed arches beneath this tower; the royal arms are
above the doorway ; in the grand Senate Hall there is
a very beautiful statue of the Queen, and the vice-regal
throne is flanked by busts of the Prince of Wales and
the Princess Alexandi'a. In the most remote, as well
as in the most populous districts, the features of the
royal family are duly represented. The Canadians are
the most loyal of all British subjects ; they lower their
voices with solemn reverence when they speak of
" Her Majesty, the Queen," to whom they never refer
as " the Queen," pure and simple ; they give her a
whole string of titles and adjectives, like the tail of a
paper kite, and set her sailing in the heaven of their
imagination, as though she were beyond the range of
humanity altogether. They seem to regard royalty,
not as an upper branch of the human family, but as a
higher and holier species ; any adverse or quizzical
criticism of them or their doings would be met with
severe reprimand, if not positive maltreatment. We
cannot help wondering how the loyalty of the Canadian
people manages to exist, for it has been half-starved, or
fed only upon the crumbs flung from the state table.
It must have lived on its own robust strength or the
clinging patriotic spirit of the Canadian nature, rather
than from any consideration or care it has received
from the home government. It is certainly the most
beautiful, the most fertile of the British colonies, and
lies nearest to the mother land, though it seems farthest
from her care.
^
TIIK CAPITAL OK TIII^ DOMTNIOV.
39
Mucli has been said, much has been written oh the
subject of Canada ; we have learned its geographical
position, the length and breadth of its lakes and rivers,
the extent of its vast forest lands, the height of its
mountains, etc., but the figures dazzle the mind, and
bring no realization of the fact. Nothing less than a
personal visit will enal)le us to comprehend the wonders
of this luxuriant land, which is surrounded and en-
compassed with its own loveliness. The primeval
forest still holds its own in the vast solitudes, sacred
as yet from the increasing encroachments of man,
its immense inland seas, and fruitful rivers winding
through scenery tlie most picturesque, the most sub-
lime ; to say nothing of its vast unexplored lands and
mineral resources, and the wide tracts of rich unculti-
vated country, watered by springs and rivulets which
have been flowing in their living liquid beauty since
the days of Paradise. We hear sad tales of poverty
and misery in the old land, of scanty crops, wasted
labour, and ruined farmers, who, after all, are only
tenants on the land they live on ; the small farmer
who labours there, on another man's land, may here
become a land-owner. There is no room for great
farming operations or agricultural enterprise in the
limited cultivated, land of the old country, every rood
of which is occupied ; there is no room for new comers,
— the great tide of human life, which is rising every
hour, must roll on towards the great cities, and per-
haps starve there, for each city is filled with its own
people, who work at their different trades, and in their
turn overflow into the country, drifting, heaven knows
where. There is small chance of rural folks gaining
their bread in the old land. Here in the New World
// ' •
»i 11;:
40
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
!!lv
i!;i. i
:
there are, not thousands, but millions of acres of rich
fertile soil waiting for the magic pick and the plough-
share to turn it to a veritable " Tom Tidler's ground ; "
only scatter the seed on its broad fair breast, and it
will pulsate with a new life and swell the seeds with
its own fulness till they burst and blossom into a wealth
of golden grain, and " the hand of the sower gathereth
a rich harvest."
The Governing powers, in their desire to get the
country well populated, are willing to make most liberal
terms to forward this object. They are ready to give a
grant in perpetuity of one hun ^ ^d and sixty acres to
all or any who are willing to make a home there, with
the power, of course, of extending their possessions as
their means increase. There is an abundance of wood
for building purposes, the rivers and lakes teem with
fish in great variety, and the earth gives forth such a
variety of wild fruits, strawberries, raspberries, grapes,
gooseberries, and huge trees of red luscious plums, and
butternuts, we feel that in summer-time, at least, we
could live as the birds do, on sunshine and sweet
fruits.
We had heard much of the extremes of temperature,
of heat and cold, especially in Ottawa, and prepared
ourselves for broiling; well, it was warm, the sun
blazed, the hot winds blew, and the dust of this most
dusty city whirled and swirled around us, got into our
eyes, our ears, crept insidiously down our throats, and
seemed struggling to turn us inside out ; but we
clutched our mantles around us, and butted against the
wind, screening ourselves from the sun's fierce rays as
best we couid. It is not often that the sun and the
wind have such a tussle together. However we reached
THE CAPITAL OF THE DOMINION.
41
'M
:>M
home at last in an uncooked state, feeling not much
warmer than we should do on a summer day at home,
though the temperature is much higher, and the hours
are marching to the tune of 90' in the shade. We had
spent the whole day in wandering and driving about
the streets of Ottawa, till we gained a very good idea of
its external appearance. It has numerous fine churches,
and its town hall, post office, and all the municipal
buildings are substantially and massively built in an
attractive and fanciful style of architecture. As for
the rest of the city, it is in a perfectly unfinished state ;
it is as yet only a thing of promise, though it has the
makino' of a verv fine town in the future ; but how-
ever fast it marches, it will have to keep growing, and
work hard too, for another century at least, before it
reaches the level of its mngnificent Parliament build-
ings. The streets are wide and long, stretching away
out of sight ; they are cobble-stoned and roughly
wood-paved for the most part. After passing the
princi})al lines of shops in Sparkes Street, the houses
seem to have been built for temporary convenience
only, and crop up here and there in a direct line,
leaving wide spaces of waste land between, as though
they were in a hurry to see which should reach the
end of the long street first, the end that seems to be
creeping back to the primeval forest, which civilization
and time lias left far behind.
Ottawa itself is neither picturesque nor attractive,
being built on perfectly flat ground. It looks like a
timber yard, and smells of sawdust. The Ottawa river
has as many long thin arms as an octopus, and they
run meandering inland by a hundred different ways ;
here, they meet in a vast tumbling mass, falling over
42
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDl'.
life
niiy
huge boulders and broken stony ground till they are
dignified by the name of the " Chaudiere Falls ; " lower
down, their headlong course is stopped, and they are
utilized and made to turn a huge sawmill where a
thousand steel teeth are biting through the grand old
trees, tearing them into slips, digesting and disgorging
them on the other side ; in vain the water foams and
groans, crashing its rebellious waves together — man is
its master, and will have his way. Just over the
bridge is an extensive match factory, employing six
hundred children from six to twelve years old, swarm-
ing on all sides like busy little a ..uS, measuring, cutting,
dipping, and filling the boxes as fast as their tiny
hands can move. There is on the opposite side a pail
and tub factory, all for exportation ; long galleries,
filled with tubs and pails from floor to ceiling, enough
to scrub the world clean, and turn it inside out and
begin again on the other side.
Rideau Hall, the home of our Princess, lies on the
outskirts of the town, and is by no means a regal-
looking mansion ; it is a long low building of grey-
stone, standing on rather elevated ground, and has a
pleasant view of the town and river from the lawn
and flower garden, which enclose two sides of it ; the
approach is through tolerably well timbered grounds,
not of sufficient importance to be called a " park." The
Governor and Princess Louise were awav, and the
house was undergoing repair — it looked as though it
needed it. There was nothing to distinguish this from
any second or third-rate country house at home, except
the one solitary and rather seedy-looking sentinel who
paraded before the door The people of Ottawa speak
most enthusiastically of our Princess ; everyone has
il
THE CAPITAL OF THE DOMINION.
43
some kind memory or pleasant anecdote to tell of her.
It is said that when Her Royal Highness held her
first reception, she appeared in a plain high dress,
expecting, perhaps, to find fashion " out of joint " in
this far-away place ; but the Canadian ladies came
trooping " en grand toilette," with fans and diamonds,
trains and laces, like living importations from Worth
himself At the next reception matters changed, and
the royal lady appeared in all the splendour of the
British Court receptions.
44
TIIROUGn CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
!|:'!
CHAPTER Y.
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
On the Train — The Thousand Islands — At Kingston — Toronto —
The Government House — Arrival of the Princess Louise —
" We expect the Moon " — Niagara Falls.
From Ottawa to Toronto is a tedious journey, in con-
sequence of the many changes, from rail to river, ri-^; er
to rail again. The train is waiting for t as we r3ach
the station ; it is a hot sultry morning, ohe warm air,
sand-laden, comes in short, fitful gusts, and is stifling
rather than refreshing ; the sun blazes down from a
copper-coloured sky — everything is sun-dried, sun-
baked ; the city glows like an oven ; the stony, shade-
less streets reflect the burning rays, and blind the eyes
with their white dazzling light ; one might cook eggs
upon the housetops, and set bacon to frizzle in the sun.
It is an undertaking to cross the blank space from
the omnibus to the platform, many a sunstroke has
been got with less provocation. In a limp, dusty con-
dition, tired before the day has well begun, we take the
first vacant seats we come to — there is little choice, for
the car is half full already, and more people come
trooping in, till it is filled to overflowing with a miscel-
laneous mass of humanity of all sorts, sexes, and sizes :
there are women with babies, women with bundles,
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
45
and baskets of fruit, crockery, and cabbages ; two
elderly ladies, in corkscrew curls, carrying a pet cat
in a basket and huge bunches of flowers, come timidly
in, smiling and giving a recognizing nod to everybody
with the information that they " have not been in a
train for twenty years, and consequently are a little
nervous." Hobbledehoys trample on our skirts, and
stumble over our feet, and one young tourist, evidently
got up by his tailor in stereotyped tourist foshion, for
his first outing, struggles into the car under a weight
of walking-sticks and fishing-tackle, and commences
operations by fishing my hat off, and in the confusion
of disentanglement and blushing apologies, all his
belongings come rattling about my ears. The bell
rings, the train moves slowly ; everything moves
slowly in Canada — whether it is that the red tape
stretches from the mother country and ties their
hands, or public spirit languishes, or private enter-
prise is sleeping, it is difficult to say. The Canadians
are a most loyal, kind, and hospitable people. Con-
servative too, with the worst kind of conservatism, they
are content with things as they are, and so long as
matters go smoothly in the old grooves, they will not
trouble to make new tracks. They want waking up ;
if they were once possessed with the restless, ambitious,
go-ahead spirit of the United States, they would soon be
even with them ; at present they are a century behind.
We rattle along through a not especially interest-
ing country ; here and there we come upon undulating
woodlands, with pretty fiirmhouses lying amid their
cultivated lands ; but there are whole acres lying idle
of rich land, which has only to be tickled with a
ploughshare and fed with a scanty meal of grain,
40
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
liiii''
m\
Hi
and it is ready to burst into laughing fields of golden
corn ; meanwhile masses of gaudy weeds flaunt their
flags in the sun, and straggling brushwood spring
aggressively from the ground, and such a glorious
growth of thistles as would delight a race of donkeys
— no better could be found anywhere. Meanwhile
we amuse ourselves, each according to his or her
fancy. One woman sucks oranges all the w^ay,
another " clucks " and makes zoological noises to
amuse her rebellious offspring ; the young tourist looks
unutterably bored, and plays the " devil's tattoo " on
the window ; somebody perfumes the car with the
odour of peppermint drops. The old ladies enter
into a conversational race, and discuss their private
affairs in a most audible voice, taking the whole car
into their confidence. We catch snatches of a
domestic tragedy, blithely borne by the chief sufferer,
who dwells upon every revolting detail with great
gusto, as though she revelled in the telling ; next to
enjoying other people's miseries, some people love to
gloat upon their own, the excitement following the
tragedy overpowering the tragedy itself. Every time
the train stops, as it does with a jerk, they clutch
each other wildly, and pelt everybody with ques-
tions, "Was it a collision?" or "had the boiler burst?"
During their excitement the cat wriggles out of the
basket, and a general scrimmage ensues before the
poor beast can be recaptured.
At ten o'clock we reach Prescott, and there take
the boat for Kingston, hoping to catch the four o'clock
train for Toronto. Our luggage is soon aboard, and
in the course of a few minutes we are seated under
an awning on the deck of a palatial river boat ; here
t
f
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
47
the river broadens and joins the lake Ontario. We
rejoice at leaving the dusty train and baking city
behind, and set ourselves to enjoy the fresh genial
breeze, and watch for the first glimpse of the thousand
islands. We are soon in their midst. It is like a
dream of fairyland — the perfect day, warm sunny
atmosphere, and fresh cool breeze dimpling the face of
the water ; the luxuriant islands, as we thread our
way among them, seem to be floating with us — they
are everywhere, before, behind, and around ; some are
large, some small ; some are inliabited only by water-
fowl, some by men of literary and artistic taste, who
make their summer home there ; but they are all
clothed in a luxuriant growth of green, trailing low
down to the water's edge, white willow and silver
birch coquetting with their own shadows fluttering on
its surface. After a few delicious lotus-eating hours'
floating on this romantic world of land and water, we
reach Kingston just in time to miss the train — every-
body misses that train, it is a delusion and a snare,
nobody was ever known to catch it, even by accident.
I believe the captains and hotel-keepers are in collu-
sion to keep the tourist in Kingston for the night.
The best hotel, The British American, has poor accom-
modation, the table being ill-served and the viands
ill-cooked.
We brought splendid appetites to bear on greasy
chops, tough steaks, and soup so weak it had scarcely
strength to struggle down our throats. The meals
were served at most unearthly hours — dinner at
twelve, supper at five o'clock. It is a large, old-
fashioned town, with a capital fruit and vegetable
market in its centre, and fine houses with walled-in
I
48
Tnuour.iT riTiES and phatp.ie lands.
gardens ; the tallest and gaudiest flowers sometimes
climbed up and took a peep at the world outside : a
good old-world city, wrapped up in itself and its
people ; no doubt comfortable enough to live in, but
no attractive features to interest the passing stranger.
It seems to be an isolated, self-centred place, with
nothing to do with tlie pi'esent and no stirring asso-
ciations with the past. We were not sorry to find
ourselves in the four o'clock train en route for Toronto.
The cars were clean, and not overcrowded ; boys came
along, peddling books, papers, hot cake, rich ripe fruit,
and " real p]nglish walnuts." We were tired, and
lounged back in our seats, watching the panoramic
landscapes fly past us, and listening to the sweet voices
of two young (^anadian girls who were singing
hymns, nearly all the way. Towards eight o'clock
there was a stop of twenty minutes for supper, and a
capital supper we got — salmon, trout, cutlets, sausages,
fruit, coffee, iced milk, and all for the modest sum of
fifty cents !
The sun sets in a glory of crimson, purple, and
gold, fading and changing, one colour amalgamating
with another, till the western skies are dressed in
gorgeous crimson plumes, and the lake is illuminated,
glowing red in the reflected light, and the opposite
shore seems veiled in the purple mist of dreamland.
Slowly the twilight falls, the moon rises, and presently
we are speeding by full moonlight along the shores of
the Lake Ontario.
It was nearly midnight when the lights of the City
of Toronto loomed upon our sight. Our engine bell
began its musical ding-dong as we slackened and
steamed slowly into the Station, and soon we were on
i
'I
II
■4
m
■•.'.
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
49
our way to our hotel. Thanks to the delightful bag-gage
system here, as all over the United States, luggage is
no trouble to its owner. The arrangement is simple
enough : your luggage is taken from your house by
the expressman, who checks them to your destination
wlierever that may be, giving you little brass numbered
checks in return ; a similar check is strapped on each
of your boxes. About an hour before you reach your
journey's end, an express agent boards the train ; you
give up your checks, and tell him where to send your
luggage. On your arrival, or very soon after, you find
it there ; there is a specified charge for each package.
The loss of passengers' luggage is unknown ; and by
this easy arrangement, much loss of time, trouble, and
temper is saved. You may carry as much as you please,
and from the time you leave England it is no trouble
to you, until you return to Liverpool, — then your vexa-
tions begin anew.
We put up at the Queen's Hotel, about three minutes
drive from the Station, and facing the lake, though it
stands back a few hundred yards from it. We found
it a luxurious hotel and perfect home, being an exten-
sive but not a monster hotel, large enough for the most
complete arrangements, but not too large to be com-
fortable. It is three or four stories high, and has a
balconied and verandahed front with pretty climbing
plants trailing among the lattice work. The Governor,
Mr. Macdonald, and his two charming daughters, at
that time had a suite of apartments here, having
vacated the Government house for the occupation of the
Princess Louise and the Marquis of Lome, who were
expected in a day or two to open the Dominion Ex-
hibition. Toronto was much excited on the occasion.
E
i:.i
50
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIK LANDS.
The Misses ^Tacdonnld toolc great interest and delio-ht
in beautify in o; their already beautiful home, for the
reception of their royal guests. The day before the
arrival we accompnnied them on a last visit of inspec-
tion to see that every arrangement was complete, and
add any little finishing touches their refined taste might
consider necessary.
The Government house is a massive square stone
building, npproached by handsome iron gates, and is
surrounded by tastefully laid out flower gardens, soft
velvety lawn, fanciful conservatories and green-house
filled with rare exotics. AYe get the key from the
head gardener, and enter the house : there is no sign
of life, not a creature is visible ; we saunter through
the corridors, up the stairs, and through the vacant
chambers, attended only by our own shadows ; our
tread falls noiselessly on the soft carpet ; once or twice
a door slams, and an echo wakes up and tries to follow
us, but is smothered by tlie way. Tlie rooms are all
in perfect order, prettily arranged, fresh, airy, and
beautifully clean, not a speck of dust is to be seen any-
where ; everytliing seems to be in a waiting stage —
eider-down beds, spring mattresses all bare, waiting to
be made ; wardrobes waiting to be filled ; fires waiting
to be kindled. There is no sign of silver or linen any-
where. We inquire, "Why is this?" and learn, that when
the Princess travels, like some visitors to the sea-side
at home, she finds her own plate and linen ! The royal
servants are expected to take possession every minute ;
as we are leaving the house, they are beginning to
arrive with the baggage in advance. Meanwhile the
city is all agog with expectation, people come flock-
ing in from all parts of the dominion. The hotels
"%
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
51
and
all
and
and refroRhment houses are full to overflowinf^ ; cnp^er
siVht-seers tlironp^ the streets; we enjoy our p:npe amono^
the rest. Tt is a pretty bri'n^ht town, with lonpr wide
straio'ht streets, bordered on either side with fine old
trees, — a striking- contrast to the blank stony aspect of
Ottawa, — and is calculated to show off at the best
advantage on such a festive occasion as this. Triumphal
arches, covered with a glory of green, bright-coloured
flngs, and wondrous devices, span the streets on every
side ; we come upon troops of merry children singing
" The Campbells are coming," " Rule Britannia," and
" (rod save the Queen," with all the might of their
strong young lungs ; great is the excitement of the
child-world — they are to muster ten thousand strong to
greet the Princess on her arrival to-morrow.
We are roused early in the morning by a general
liul)bub and a conflicting choir of young voices, and
look from our window upon a transformation scene. The
wdiolo space between our hotel and the railway, at
which point the royal party are to alight, is cleared of
lumber, and newly swept and garnished ; and on either
side, rising one above another, rows of seats have been
erected to accommodate ten thousand children, leaving
between them a wide avenue for the progress of the
vice-regal party. The children are already beginning
to assemble ; they are all dressed in light colours,
generally in white, with broad gay-coloured sashes,
worn crosswise from the shoulder, each school wearino-
a different colour, and having its own special flag
fluttering over it. At first the schools seem to be all
mixed together in inextricable confusion ; teachers and
trainers dash franticly about, gathering their wandering
flocks together; but long before the slow swinirin
"^
52
TIIROUOII CITIKS AND TRAIRIE LANDS.
M'^l
engine bell lieriilds the approach of the royal party,
each school occupies its proper space and all is in order.
From our balcony we watch the train come wriggling
like a great black snake into the station. We are not
near enough to distinguish faces, but a company of
gayly dressed midgets seem to slip out upon the plat-
form, and stand silent in the sunshine. There is a
momentary lull, ^Vo look down the long lines of
children's faces, rising tier upon tier ten thousand
strong ; they are so arranged that their colours blend
harmoniously together, they look like an animated
flower garden ; a wave of excitement sweeps over them,
suddenly ten thousand snowflakes seem fluttering in
the air, ten thousand hands are waving tiny white
handkerchiefs ; the choir of distant voices begin to sing
" The Campbells are coming. Hurrah ! hurrah ! " and
soft as the sound of an echo, the old familiar air reaches
our ears, swelling louder and louder as it is caught up
by one section after another, nearer and nearer, till the
whole ten thousand voices fill the air with one great
volume of sound. Meanwhile the newly arrived visitors
progress slowly along the avenue, and " God save the
Queen" and ''Rule Britannia" follow in quick succession,
the children's voices quickening to a race, so eager are
they to finish before the Princess is out of hearing.
As she reaches her carriage, there is a clapping of
hands and roar of welcome ; but she keeps in the
background, leaving all the honour and glory to
her husband, the Governor-General of the Dominion.
Troops of Rifles, and engineers line the streets, and a
general festivity takes possession of the city ; squibs,
crackers and illuminations finish up the day.
The short time we are able to devote to Toronto
m_
If
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
53
passes too quickly; everybody is hospitably inCilined,
and every day there are liinclieons, kettledninis, or
dinners to be attended : .'dl are strictly arran^^-ed on the
"home" principle; in fact the people here are more
Kn;j,*lish than we are ourselven, and scrupulously avoid
any peculiarity of the adjoining- states, — you may hear
Americanisms in London, but never in (.Vmada. Tiie
people are lavish in their liberality, but the city carries
its economy farther than we care to follow it. On our
way to a friend's house one evening-, we found the
town wrapped in darkness ; we could neither see the
names of the streets nor the numbers of the houses ;
we lost ourselves, and at last came upon a dark grey
figure carrying a bull's-eye — it was a policeman, who
courteously convoyed us to our destination.
" You see, ladies," he said, apologizing for the Cini-
meranian darkness of his beloved city, " the moon is
expected, and we never light the streets when we expect
the moon ! " So when the moon is on duty the gas-
works have a holiday. Toronto is beautifully situated
amid stretches of well-wooded cultivated land, and
spreads its wide skirts along the shore of Lake Ontario,
where there should be a splendid promenade- — but is
not ; for between the lake and the tall rows of hand-
some houses, the railway runs close down along the
water's edge, marring the prospect with its array of
ugly sheds and cattle pens, while heavy goods trains
are shunting and shrieking in the face of the town
from morning till night : thus the opportunity of
making one of the finest promenades in the dominion
is lost. From Toronto we steam across the lake to
the village of Niagara, ^vhere a train is waiting to
carry us on to the falls about half an hour further on.
xMK^-.
M
54
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIIUI:: LANDS.
fi'-'i
i!t!
II
III
We all watch from the windows, eager to catch our
first glimpse of the world's great wonder.
I quote from my companion's note-hook on the spot,
" There was a hreak in the wood, a flash of white, a
cloud of spray tossed high above the tree-tops; then the
dark woods closed again. That glimpse, flashing upon
us and passing before we could fully realize that the
great tumbling mass was indeed Niagara, can hardly
be called our first view of it. ... It was dark when we
reached the Clifton house ; the roar of the falls filled
our ears, we stepped out upon the balcony, and there was
a sight we can never forget. It was a moonless night,
and in the dusk wo could only obscurely trace the vast
vague outline of the two falls, divided by the blurred
mass of shapeless shadows which we learned was Goat
Island. As we looked upon them silently, and listened
to the ceaseless boom like distant thunder, wliicli shook
the ground beneath our feet, across the snowy veil of the
American Fidl, to our left, shot ro ys of rosy light, which
melted into amber, then into emerald. They were
illuminatiiig the great waters with coloured calcium
lights ! In whose bei:ighted mind rose the first
tl cuglit of dressing Niagara up like a transformation
scene in a pantomime ? It was like putting a tinsel
crown and tarlatan skirts on the Venus of JMilo. But
these brilliant rays which fell across the American
Falls, and which were turned on and ofi' like a dis-
solving view, did not reach to the Horseshoe Fall away
to our right. Vast, solemn, sliadowy, we could just
distinguish its form in the darkness, could hear the
deep murmur of its awful voice. And there, between
it and us, what was that we saw ? Was it some hutre
pale ghost standing sentinel before Niagara ? White,
FROM CITY TO CATARACT.
55
spectral, motionless, it rose up and readied towards
the stars — shapeless, dim, vao-iie as a veiled g-host.
There was something almost supernatural about it, it
was like a colossal spectre, wrapped in a robe of strange
dim light.
" ' How fine and upright the column of spray is to-
night,' said a strange voice beside us. This broke the
illusion. But yet it seemed impossible that our ghost
should be only a pillar of rising and falling spray !
We saw it again, daily and nig-htly, but seldom again
like that. We saw it blown along in clouds ; we saw
it like a great veil hiding the whole face of the Fall ;
we saw it one evening at sunset leaping and sparkling-
like a fountain of liquid gold, — but only once again
did we see it rise up in that shape, the dim and ghostly
guardian of the night. No mortal eye has ever beheld
tlje base of the great Horseshoe Falls ; it is for ever
veiled and lost in a wild white chaos of foam, tossed
up in the fury of its headlong plunge, and hiding its
depths in mystery.
" The Indians hold that Niagara claims its yearly
meed of victims. It may be so. Or does Niagara hus
avenge itself on the civilization that has trinrmed and
tamed its forests and dressed it up in tinsel-coloured
lights ? But the thunder of water thunders on eter-
nally, and before its terrible sublimity we are dumb,
as in the mighty diapason our feeble voices .are lost."
We remain eight days at Niagara ; its ' fascination
increases ; but wo must tear ourselves away, and say
good-bye to it, at last ; we are bound for the " Golden
Gate," and great cities, lakes, mountains and prairie
lands arc lying between it and us.
56
THROUGH CITIES AXD PHAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER VI.
THE EMPIRE CITY.
iff!]
New York — Fifth Avenue— Madison Square — The Elevated Rail-
way—The Cars— The Shops— The People— West Point.
We leave Niagara in the early morning, and start on
our tedious journey on the long comfortless cars (we
learned afterwards, that we might have taken seats in
the parlour car). How we long for a lounge in one of
our own easy well-cushioned first-class compartments !
Here, there are no lounging possibilities, we are forced
to sit bolt upright, the back of the seats scarcely rising
to our shoulder blades ; and the constant passing to
and fro of the peddling fraternity, and the slamming
and banging of doors as they come and go, is most
irritating even to non-delicate nerves. We feel the lack
of privacy in these American cars, but in this, as in
most other cases, there is some compensation — we are
safe from the attacks of lunatics, thieves, or ruffianism
of any kind whatever, and we can obtain any quantity
of rich ripe fruit, luscious strawberries, bananas and
melons, figs, etc.; while there is a tank of iced water
in the car for the refreshment, gratis, of thirsty souls.
The train rushes through the high streets of busy
towns, crossing crowded thorouglifares and public
highways, keeping up full speed always, merely ring-
THE EMPIRE CITY.
57
ing the engine bell, to warn people to get out of the
way : they have to take care of themselves, and they
know it ; no precaiitions are taken for the public safety ;
the rails are merely laid down in the middle of the
streets, and when the trains are not in sight other
vehicles use the road. We stop to dine at Syracuse,
sup at Utica, and reach New York a little before mid-
night. A familiar face greets us on the platform, but
not until we have engaged a carriage to take us to the
Windsor Hotel, which proves to be just two blocks
from the station ! Our luggage is in the hands of the
expressman, and we could have walked to the hotel
had we been aware of its nearness in less than five
minutes ! The rapacious Jehu charged four dollars
for our brief occupancy of his dingy vehicle ; it was
the first and last time we were so beguiled.
It is a starlight night, and we catch a glimpse of
the tall dark houses, which seem to be reaching up to
the moon. The names of the streets, we notice, are
painted on the glass gas lamps at every corner, so that
in the darkest weather you may always tell your where-
abouts. The carriage stops at the monster hotel — a
y >ry mountain of cherry-red bricks and mortar, a huge
square building it is, oc" T)ying one entire block, built
up so many storeys that our eyes can scarcely reach
the top ; its windows are all shaded by outside linen
blinds, which flap and flutter like flags in the dim
night. The wide door opens, and swallows us up.
We rather dreaded facing the clerk of this magnificent
establishment ; we had heard so much of the species
and the generally cavalier, supercilious manner with
which they treated strangers that we preferred our
modest request for a double-bedded room in fear and
68
THllOUan CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
trembling ; but our request could not have been more
courteously received and answered if we bad been
engaging the most gorgeous suite in the whole hotel :
I believe the supercilious hotel clerk must be classed
with extinct animals. We are politely conducted to
the elevator, which carries us up higher — higher, till
we fancy we must be approaching the seventh heaven,
and at last are deposited in a large handsome apart-
ment on one of the upper storeys.
The next morning we take our first stroll through
the " Empire city ; " an enthusiastic and patriotic
American friend is with us early, anxious to see the
efttict the first sight of his beloved city produces
on our British constitution. We step out from the
grand entrance of the Windsor Hotel, and witli a
majestic wave of his arm he introduces us to " Fifth
Avenue ! " and watches for the electrifying effect. Our
faces fall, our ideas of the " Glories of the Avenue,"
which we had often heard sung, fade away. We
look up, we look down ; instead of the wide shady
avenue, and brilliant busy scene our fancy had painted,
we see only a long, and by no means wide, street,
bristling with churches, lifting their lofty spires from
amid the rows of tall brown stone houses, which are
closely packed on either side, each being approached
by a flight of brown stone steps, with ornamental
rails, handsome and dreary in their monotonous regu-
larity ; but we catch no glimpse of a green tree any-
where ! The whole street is stamped with aristocratic
dulness ; a score or so of well-dressed people are
sauntering along the side walk, and clean-looking white
" stages," which run from one end of the city to tlie
other, arc jolting along over the rough cobble stones
THE EMPIRE CITY.
59
which pave the roadway ; the avenue is several miles
long, but it grows less aristocratic, and leaves the even
tenor of its way, when it passes through Madison
Square, which is pretty and quite Parisian in its
appearance, with a splendid growth of fine old trees
and shady nooks and corners, quite an oasis in a desert
of bricks and mortar ; streets of stone houses radiate
from all sides of it ; and every day, through summer
heat and winter snows, George Francis Train, with
his ruined intellect and shaggy white beard, haunts
the scene ; he is generally found seated ander one
particular tree, cutting out paper boats and figures
for the troops of children who swarm round him;
and here stands Fifth Avenue Hotel, a stately building
gleaming white in the sunshine. Here the stir of life
begins, and flows in a restless magnetic current the
live-long day. After leaving Madison Square, the
avenue winds and wriggles its way to the lower part
of the city, and mingles with the everyday working
world. Leaving this aristocratic quarter we pass
through one of the cross streets, between lines of the
same brown stone houses, miniature copies of Fifth
Avenue grandeur, and find ourselves in dem.ocratic
Sixth Avenue, which is full of the bustle and roar of
life ; shops to the right of us, shops to the left of us,
shops everywhere and of every possible kind, — crabs,
eels and oysters, Cliinese laundries, fancy toys, barbers,
whisky bars, and fashionable milliners, elbow each
other in true republican fashion. The side walks are
thronged with hurrying crowds of men and Avomen ;
along the centre of the road, but raised about forty
feet above it, runs the elevated railway : it looks like a
skeleton gridiron laid on a rack and stretched from one
GO
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
end of the city to the other, its long arms branching off
and running through the intricate labyrinths of the
lower part of the town, rounding curves, and turning
sharp corners, and, at times, so near to the houses you
might shake hands with the inhabitants and see what
they have for dinner. This airy mode of locomotion is
startling at first, especially at night when the shops are
closed, and the streets deserted ; you hear the rumbling
of the train far off, and it thunders over your head,
seeming to swing in mid-air between you and the sky,
its green and red fiery eyes staring ahead and plunging
into the darkness. Beneath this elevated road, which
forms a kind of arcade, run lines of red and yellow cars
jingling their bells merrily as they roll rapidly along
the iron rails in an almost unbroken line, one following
the other in quick succession.
Public conveyances are cheap, and there are plenty
of them : cars run from everywhere to everywhere.
There are, of course, numerous livery stables, and a
limited number of public cabs for hire, but they are
very expensive as well as a doubtful luxury, and the
drivers are most accomplished extortionists. It is
'mpossible that a drive through the streets of New
\wrk could ever be taken for pleasure, in consequence
of the rough cobble-stoned roadway ; it is a jolting pro-
cess, you take your drive at the risk of dislocating your
neck. The cars are roomy and easy ; both driver and
conductor are protected from the weather ; they stand
on a kind of balcony, with an umbrella-like projection
sloping over them, effectually shielding them from sun
or rain. Everybody rides in the cars, from the lady
in costly furs and velvets to the costermonger. You
may find yourself sandwiched between a fat negro and
THE EMPIRE CTTY.
61
lean washerwoman, and facing your jewelled hostess
of the night before.
There are seme few trifling drawbacks in this land
of liberty : the every-man's-as-good-as-his-neighbour
feeling, is sometimes unpleasantly obtruded on your
notice ; especially when you embark on a shopping
expedition, there is an absence of that respectful
ready attention we are accustomed to meet with in
Europe. You enter, say, a draper's shop : the young
ladies are engaged in a gossiping match, or a game at
flirtation ; you wait their pleasure, not they yours ;
when they do deign to attend you, it is with a sort of
cc'^descending indifl"erence, and even while they are
measuring a yard of ribbon, they keep up a fusillade
of chatter with their companions. I speak of the
rule, of course there are exceptions. Central Park is
the only place where you can enjoy a drive — there
driving is a delight, the roads are simply perfect, and
scores of splendid equipages and beautiful women are
on view daily in the grand drives from three till six
o'clock ; while the bridle paths, winding through
sylvan shades beneath fuU-foliaged trees, are crowded
with fair equestrians and their attendant cavaliers :
it is a pleasure to watch them at a trot, a canter, or
a gallop, for the American women ride well and
gracefully. New York is very proud of Central Park ;
and well it may be so, for it is one of the finest in
the world, there is nothing like it this side of the
Atlantic. Twenty years ago it was a mere swampy
rocky waste, now it is a triumph of engineering skill
and a splendid illustration of the genius of land-
scape gardening : there are smooth green lawns, shady
groves, lakes, beautifully wooded dells and vine-covered
G2
THROUGH CITIKS AND PRATRIE LANDS.
arbours, whichever way yon turn you come upon
delicious bits of picturesque scenery blossoming in
unexpected nooks and corners. Here and there huge
j2;rey rocks stand in their orif^inal rug'2;ed majesty,
their broken lichen -covered boulders tumbling at their
base. From the terrace, which is the highest point,
you enjoy a view of the entire park with its numerous
lakes, fountains, bridges, and statues, spreading like a
beautiful panorama round you. Here, too, you fully rea-
lize the cosmopolitan character of the city, for here great
men of all nations are immortalized or libelled in stone,
and their statues stud the park, side by side with the
national heroes. Some idea of the extent of these
grounds may be gathered from the fact, that there are
ten miles of carria2:e drives, all as a rule wide enough
for six to go abreast, about six miles of bridle paths
for riding, and twenty-eight for pedestrian exercise ; a
wide stretch of lawn is set apart for cricket or croquet
playing, and a special quarter for children with merry-
go-rounds, swings, etc. ; there is also a menagerie con-
taining numerous and varied specimens of animals,
the nucleus of what is to be, when completed, a fine
zoological collection.
The Park is situated in the centre of the upper
town. The avenues run lengthwise from one end of
the city to another, which are crossed by straight
streets in a direct line from the East River, on the one
side, to the Hudson on the other ; the famous Broad-
way running diagonally from the upper town, slant-
ing across streets, squares and avenues till it buries
itself in the intricate wilds of the lower town, where
the streets are closely massed together and densely
populated with wanderers from all nations, Polish
%
THE EMPIRE CITY.
63
Jews, Russians, Italians, Germans, Irish, creating a
wild confusion of tongues, all packed in tall tenement
houses, in close narrow streets, scores of families living
where there is scarcely health-breathing room for one.
Castle Garden, where admirable arrangements are made
for the reception of emigrants, and the " Battery," onco
a fashionable promenade, point the lower end of this
island city, girdled by the green waters of the Hudson
and East River, which meet and mingle here. Wall
Street, one of the great financial centres of the world,
is situate in the busiest business quarter of the lower
town, and runs in a somewhat broken line from Broad-
way to the East River. The traffic here is enormous,
this part of the city is like a human cauldron, with a
restless multitude seething and bubbling from morning
till night. There must be something in the air which
excites the brain and allows to human nature no rest ;
every man seems to be rushing for dear life's sake,
while life itself is rushing after something else, some-
times hurling itself out of this world into the next to
find it. All above Central Park is like a ragged fringe
of the great city — long half-finished avenues, straggling
sparsely inhabited streets, and skeleton houses ; .much
of the original swnmny ground lies still unclaimed.
The Irish squatte .• in their rickety tumble-down
hovels still cling to the land ; the malarial air may
wrap them like a shroud, the swamp with its foul un-
wholesomeness threaten to swallow them up — they will
not stir. By slow, very slow degrees, as the Government
reclaims the land, they are driven tow\ards the edge,
but wherever they can find a footing they squat again.
Although New York is one of the great commercial
centres of the world, it is not a beautiful city ; there is
f 7
64
THROUQH CITIKS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
notliiiig picturesque or attractive about it ; take away
Central Park and you have a mere wilderness of bricks
and mortar ; streets and houses so closely packed as
scarce to leave breathin<^ room for its inhabitaTits.
Every one wants to live near the centre, and as its
watery girdle prevents the city spreading, it grows
upwards, piling one story above another till it threatens
to shut out the sky. It is not a clean city either :
street cleaning is carried on in a slovenly fluctuating
fashion ; there are no dust-bins in the backyards, but
ash-barrels stand on the curbstone in front of every
dwelling, and are the receptacles for all household
refuse ; dust, ashes, cabbage stumps, fish bones, broken
china, are all poured into the ash-barrel till it overflows
and becomes an unsightly and unsavoury nuisance.
There are several fine libraries, art galleries, and
museums (to give an idea of their valuable and in-
teresting contents would fill a volume), and churches
so numerous that if the piety of the people kept pace
with their churches there would be a scarcity of
sinners. Their schools are abundant, and their educa-
tional system the most perfect I have seen — every
child may have the advantage of a splendid education
gratis ; and the mode of teaching is such that the
veriest dunce must find pleasure in learning. The
superintendents and teachers are well chosen ; with
tact and kindness they lead their pupils, not only to
learn from books, but to think out their own thoughts,
and by suggestive and pertinent questions, cause them
to reflect and comprehend what the lesson teaches, so
making the path of knowledge a path of roses ; what
is pleasantly learnt is well learnt and long remembered,
while the learning that is beaten in at one ear often
THE KMPIRE CITY.
05
flies out at the other. In the matter of liospitals, and
charitable institutions of all descriptions, the city of
New York is second to none ; and all its arrangements
are carried out with the large-hearted liberality which
characterizes the American people.
Though strongly republican in principle, they do
not carry their republican notions into private life.
Society is more exclusive than in the old country ;
perhaps, not being sure of its own footing, it is afraid
of tripping, .and watches warily lest any stray free
lance should penetrate its interior ; each circle revolves
within itself, rarely running one into another. Whole-
sale and retail mix freely in all commercial matters,
are " Hail, fellow ! well met ! " on the cars or in tlie
streets, but on the threshold of home they part. The
merchant, who sells a thousand gallons of oil, will
not fraternize at home, or be weighed in the social
scale with the vendor of a farthing dip. It is always
difficult for a stranger to gain admission into the best
New York society, but if you are once well introduced,
it opens its arms and its heart to you with an hospi-
tality that is genial and thorough. After revolving
round its magic circle for a time, you will carry away
with you such reminiscences of its brilliant coteries
and delightful home gatherings as you will not easily
forget.
We are able to take but a casual survey of the
P]mpire City, and enjoy for a brief space the hospitality
so freely extended to us. We are on our way to the
West, and are anxious to cross the Rocky Mountains
before the severe weather set in. Before we start on
our long journey, we run up the Hudson, and spend a
few days at West Point, celebrated for the great mili-
Li!
(yC,
THROUGH CITIK8 AND PRAIRIF; LANDS.
tary collen;o ; It is a deli^htriil excursion of about three
hour.s, the river windinij;' tlirou^h a panorama of lovely
scenery, the banks on either side wearing their varie-
gated autumn dress of crimson and gold and green ;
but it is at West Point itself we realize the full glory
and eftect of the gorgeous autumn colourijig. Wonder-
fully indeed has nature painted the land ; the maples
are clothed in glowing crimson, and the chestnut and
the ash wear their warm-tinted robes beside them,
wliile covering the liundred hills around and over-
spreading the undulating land are bold patches of
purple, orange, browns, gold and greens of many
shades, such as an artist would love to dream of. It is
one gigantic God-painted mosaic (for such colours
could not be manuiactured by earthly hands), with a
background of cool November sky.
West Point itself is like a bit of an earthly para-
dise ; it stands high above the river, and is surrounded
by scenery that is both picturesque and grand. You
may lose yourself in its delightful solitudes within
sound of the College bells ; the river winds in and out
about the skirts of West Point like a huge silver ser-
pent; from the terrace of the hotel there is a mag-
nificent view of hill and dale, wood and water, which
reminds one strongly of the loveliest, loneliest part of
the lake of Lucerne.
There is plenty of gaiety for those who like it :
daily parades, military bands, balls, picnics and kettle-
drums ; and during the summer season the hotels —
there are but two — are crowded with the rank and
fashion of the State.
( 67 )
(.^IIAPTER TIT.
TO TIIK PHffiNIX-CITY.
Wo Start — Our Car — Our Dressing-room — Chicago — Its Park —
The Palmer House.
Of the many routes to San Francisco we chose the
Pennsylvania line of railway, which takes us as far as
Chicago, having been informed by some old tourists
that we should find it by far the most picturesque and
agreeable, besides being the smoothest to run over, the
rails being steel and laid with special care, and the
new carriages being built with all consideration for the
comfort and convenience of their passengers. We had
rather a dread of American railways, having heard so
much of their reckless speed and wilful disregard of
all rules and regulations, that we started on our
journey in some trepidation of spirit, with a nervous
feeling that something must happen before the end of
it. But we gained confidence as we discovered the
surprising fact that life is equally dear to its
owners here as at home, and that drivers, engineers,
and other employes are as attentive to their duties here
as in any other quarter of the globe. We settled our-
selves comfortably in the seats of our luxurious Pull-
man car, and prepared to enjoy the scjiicry.
68
TIIROUCJII ClTli:S AND PHAIRIR LaNDS.
'M
111
Wo fly .swiftly throiin^li the lii,ii;lily cultivated Stnte
of Ponnsylvanin ; for tlircc or lour limidrod miles, we
arc surrounded by a paiiorniua of picturesque l)eauty —
Kpnrklin<2,* rivers, windiur^ tlirouf^h uridulatiuf^ liilla and
verdant plains, with here !ind there pretty villa,!;'es
crecpiufj; u)) the green hill-sides or nestling' at their
feet. J*i'esent]y somethiuf^ that hjoks like a dnrk
wri^'o-Hn;:^ worm, witli a fierce fiery eye, comes
wickedly towards us. We are roundini^ the wonderful
horseshoe curve ; it is our own en<;*ine, which seems to
be comiui;' in one direction while we are jj;oin<2; in
another; but it is all I'io-lit; it di-ngs us round, and
speeds alon<^ on levi^l ^-round once more. We pass the
Alloji^htiny Mountains, which on this occasion \v(^ar a
crown of jewelled l.anies lea])ini!,- ^n luri<l fury upon
the dusky night, as though they were trying to regain
the heaven whence thef had first descended. AVe pass
Pittsburg, with its thousand furnaces glowing in their
own murky atmosphere, flashiTig thcu'r flames, like
threatening fires, in the face of tin; fair white moon.
As the night closes in, tlui excitement and novelty
of our day's travel calms down, and we turn our
attention to the internal ari-aiigements of our tem))orary
home, and are interested in watching our comfortable,
velvet-cushioned section turned into a, cosy si )ing-
place ; soft mattresses, snowy sheets, and wai'm, gaily
striped blankets are extracted from behind the oi-na-
mental panels overhead ; the curtains are let down ;
and, lo ! we may go to our rest as soon as we please.
But we do not please until we have considted our con-
ductor, whose sole oc nipation during the day lias been
walking to and fro the cars, punching our tickets till
ihey resemble a piece of perforated cardboard. If tin's
i'4:
TO TIIK lMia<;MX CITV
69
process is to be carried on diirih^' the ni^'lit we think
we sliiill have small chance of rest. lint the mutter is
satisfactorily s(;ttle(l ; we may sleep in peace. That
punchin<2; process is our bu<2;l)ear thi'ouo'liout the
entire journey. Some are so careful ol" their tickets
that they never can find them when they iire
wanted ; and tlie apj)earance of the conductor is the
signal for a general hunt. J'ockets are ransacked,
j)ortmantoaus arc turned out, ])eo})le nervously feel
themselves all over, plunge under the sea^^s, crawl
ovei* the floor. '" It muHt l^e somewhere." It is found
at last, perliaps wedged in a crack of the window, or it
has (lrop))ed into the luncheon-basket and is extracted
fi'om a jelly-jar, strongly impregnated with an odour of
pe[)per and cheese. 1 |)In mine, as th(!y imj)ale blue-
bottles and butterilies, on the side of the car. Cxentle-
men, as a rule, dis])()se of theirs easily enough, and
wear them, like a dustman's badge, stuck in their
hatbands, or like a cavalier's order, pinned U|)on their
breasts.
This harmless jiiece of card])oard was the white
elephant of our lives. We never knew wliat to
do with it. Ft looked so little and meant so- miicli.
AVe kept early hours in this (jiir travelling home, and
towards nine o'clock the lights were lowered, and,
soothed by the monotonous movement and rhythmical
rumble of the train, v/e were soon slee[)ing as "dndy
and pleasantly as in our own beds at home.
Our trial came in the morning, when we marched
to the dressing-room to perform our toilette and found
a whole army of dishevelled females, armed with
tootli-brushes, sponges, etc., besieging the four-foot
space yclept " the ladies' dressing-room," each waiting
Ill
70
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
for the first sic^n of surrender to march in and take
possession. This was the miserable epoch in our daily
lives throui^h all the overland journey ; in everything
else our car life was delightfully luxurious and pleasant.
Perhaps there were a dozen ladies who every day had
to grapple with the same dilliculty and stand shivering,
all more or less en deshabille (rather more than less),
hiding their time to take temporary possession of the
solitary soap-dish and basin provided for their ablu-
tions. The public are already deeply indebted to
Messrs. Pullman and Co. for an easy and luxurious
mode of travelling, but the debt might be increased a
thousandfold by a small sftcrifiee on their part. By
devoting a single section to the purpose of a second
dressing-room, tliey would add considerably to the
accommodation of the ladies, and might fairly issue a
placard of " Travelling made Perfect."
No hotel or dining-cars accompany the morning
train from New York, but eating-stations are erected
at certain portions of the road, where you may get rid
of the most wolfish appetite at an adn.drably spread
table, and plenty of time allowed for the knife and fork
engagement.
On the second day we found ourselves rushing
along the wide plains of Indiana, a sea of tall, sweet
Indian corn on either side, its beaded cob, like shining
ivory, gleaming from its leaf of tender green. We
reached Chicago that evening, and were most kindly
received at the Palmer House, a palatial hotel built by
Mr. Potter Palmer for the luxurious entertainment of
the travelling public. It is more like an elegantly
appointed home than a mere resting-place for such
birds of passage as ourselves. Each suite of apart-
TO TIIK PIKEXIX CITY.
71
ments is perfect in itself, with a bath-room and every
convenience attached, richly curtained and carpeted,
with luxurious lounges and the easiest of easy-chairs ;
once settled in their soft embrace it is difiicult to tear
one's self from their downy arms. Being cosily in-
stalled beneath this hospitable roof, one feels, like "poor
Joe,^' disinclined to "move on." The spacious halls and
corridors are furnished in accord with other portions of
the house. The walls are lined with fauteuils, sofas,
and all the appointments of a handsome drawing-room.
As soon as we had enjoyed the luxury of a bath
(and, after two days' dusty travel, what a luxury that
is !), we went to the dining saloon in search of our
diimer, and found an unusually good one, excellently
served and abundantly supplied. If we had stayed
for a month and eaten p7'o rata as at our first metd,
we should have ruined our di'2:estive organs and re-
joiced in interiial discords for ever afterward. Our
menu was illustrated. On one side was depicted a
pigstye and a hovel — " Chicago forty years ago." On
the other was a wonderful city — " The Chicago of
to-day ! "
Knowing of the fiery scourge which a few years
ago had marred find scarred tlie beauty of that foir
city, we expected to find traces of ugliness and de-
formity everywhere, crippled bin"ldings, and lame,
limping streets running along in a forlorn crooked
condition, waiting for time to restore their old vigour
and build up their beauty anew. But, Plujenixiike,
the city has risen up out of its own ashes, grander and
statelier than ever. On the outskirts the line of fire
can still be traced ; gaunt skeletons of houses still
remain to point the \^'ay it took, and more than one
hi
72
THROUGH CITIES AND TRAIRIE LANDS.
^m
mined church, stripped of its altar and regal signs of
grace, stands blind and helpless in the sunshine ;
while in the suburbs picturesque shells of once
beautiful homes greet us here and there. But once
within the boundaries of the city we lose all traces
of tlie conflagration. The business streets are lined
with handsome massive houses, some six or seven
stories high, substantially built, sometimes of red brick
with stone copings and elaborate carving, while others
are built of that creamy stone which reminds one of
the Paris boulevards. No wooden buildings are
allowed to be erected within a certain distance of the
city. The fashionable trading localities are State and
Clark streets, though there are several others which
are well patronized by a less fashionable multitude.
On either side are large handsome drygoods, millinery,
and other stores of all possible descriptions, the win-
dows being arranged with a tasteful elaboration that
might stand side by side with our fashionable estab-
lishments at home, and lose nothing by the comparison.
The different banks, churches, and municipal buildings
which had been destroved by the great fire-fiend are
all re-erected in a substantial style, though with vary-
ing degrees of eccentric architecture. The new water-
works, situated at the northern end of the city, are the
most beautiful illustrations of the vao-aries of the archi-
tectural brain. It must have wandered into dreamland
and caught up its prevailing idea, for never were so
many cupolas and buttresses, pinnacles and towers,
grouped together on one spot ; none but a true artist
could have arranged them into so harmonious a whole,
and produced from a combination of such opposite forms
so imposing an effect.
TO THE PlICENIX CITY. 73
A painter may indulge in all the eccentricities of
bis genius, may derive his inspiration from what source
he will, there is no restriction to the realms of his art.
He may choose his subject, and illustrate it according
to his own fancy ; he may wander far from the realms
of art, and give to the wood a " barmony in blue and
gold," or a " study in brass and impudence," and his
productions are called " original." But if an architect
outruns the bounds prescribed by the five orders of
architecture, and dares to give play to his fancy, his
work is stigmatized as " bastard art," and he is con-
sidered a fit subject for a lunatic asylum. On our
drives through and about the city we were struck by
the dearth of trees. There were no signs of pleasant
green shade anywhere ; they liad all been destroyed
bj the great fire. Streets and avenues had been re-
built, and they were replanting as fast as they could ;
but nature will not be hurried in her work, her children
must have time to grow, and though her fixirest fruits
are sometimes forced into an unnatural growth, she
revenges herself by robbing them of their sweetest
flavour.
Along the shore road we drove to the park" at the
northern end of the city, which gives promise of being
a delightful promenade and recreation ground ; but it
is at present only a park in embryo, though it is grow-
ing rapidly. Flowers and shrubs are being-- planted,
grassy knolls built up, and paths and winding ways
cut and gravelled. In the course of a few years it
will have outgrown its present ragged state, and have
bloomed into a deliglitful pleasure-ground, with the
whispering waves of that inland sea, Lake Michigan,
kissing with soft foam lips its grassy slopes, while
M
74
THROUGH CITIES AND rilAIllIE LANDS.
great ships go sailing and steamers ride royally on the
breast of the wide w.aters on one side, .'ind the great
city, with its liubhub, bustle, and roar, lies upon the
other. Cliicago is indeed a great city, full of energy
and enterprise. Signs of its hidden strength and
powers of progress greet us everywhere ; but at
present it appears to be wholly devoted to money-
making. Art, science (except such science as serves
its purpose), and literature are in a languishing state.
J5ut it is young yet. Perhaps when it is fully
developed, and grown strong in muscle, and bone,
and brain, tlie soul may be born to glorify the
commonplace, and stir the latent genius of this city
into life and beauty.
With some regret we sit down to our last dinner in
this bright, bustling city, and go to bed to dream of
to-morrow, for in the morning we begin our journey
west, and the magnet which has drawn us across the
sea lies at the Golden Gate.
•HIUli
( 7!) )
CHAPTER YIII.
WESTWARD HO !
Our Travelling Hotel— The Prairies— The Emigrant Train— Bret
Harto's Heioes — Reception of General Grant in the Wild
West— "See, the Conquering Hero Comes" — The Procession.
The next morning we started, via the Cliicago and
Northwestern Railway, for Omaha. This is a most
desirable route, over even, well-laid rails, the carriages
easy and luxurious, and we ;ire whirled along over
the illimitable prairie lands witli a pleasant, gliding,
almost noiseless motion, which recalled to our minds
the gondola movement on the Grrand Canal at Venice ;
this we are told is owing to some new invention of
india-rubber or paper wheels which the company have
applied to their carriages, which greatly adds to the
comfort of their travellers. It was liere, lor the first
time, we enjoyed the luxury of the hotel car. AVe
were getting hungry, and curious to know what good
things the gods would provide for us. Presently a
good-humoured negro, " (rod's image carved in ebony,"
clothed all in white, brought us a bill of fare from
which to select our meal. It was an euiharras de
richesses. There were so many good things that we
held a consultation as to what would form the most
ir
76
TDROUGII CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
desirable meal. We decided on mulligatawny soup,
broiled oysters, lamb cutlets, and peas, and handed
the menu back to our swarthy attendant. A narrow
passage, every inch of which is utilized, separates the
kitchen from the rest of the car. IIow is it that in so
many private houses the odour of roast and broil travels
from the kitchen and insniuates itself into tlie remotest
corner of the house? U ^^reets you on the doorstep
and follows you everywhere. Here the occupants of
the car, but a few feet off, have no suggestion of dinner
till it is placed before them.
We were curious as to the working of the culinary
department, and animated by a noble desire to obtain
knowledge we penetrated the sacred precincts of the
cook. He gazed sternly at us on our entrance, but
we insinuated ourselves into his good graces, and he
showed us every nook and corner of his domain.
The kitchen was a perfect gem of a place, about
eight feet square. A range ran along one side, its
dark, shining face breaking out into an eruption of
knobs, handles, and hinges of polished brass or
steel. Curious little doors were studded all over it.
One opened here and there to give us a sniff of its
savory secrets, then shut with a laughing clang, so
playing " bo-peep " with our appetites. Presently we
should enjoy the full revelation of its culinary secrets.
Pots, steamers, and " bain Marie " pans were simmer-
ing on the top. Every requisite for carrying on the
gastronomicai operations was there in that tiny space,
in the neatest and most compact form. Scrupulous
cleanliness reigned supreme over all. There was the
pantiy, with its polished silver, glass, and china in
shining array. The refrigerator, with a plentiful
.
WESTWARD HO
f
77
supply of ice, anil the larder were side by side. The
wine and beer cellar was artfully arranged beneath the
car ; none but he who possessed the secret of " open
sesame" could ffct access to it. Tlius every inch of
space was realized to its utmost extent. It was like
a dominion in Toyland, inhabited by an ebony giant,
who by a species of culinary conjuring" produced an
epicure's feast from a handful of wood and charcoal.
Towards six o'clock every table was spread with
dainty linen, and the dinner was exquisitely served
according to the previous orders of each traveller.
The simplest dish, as well as the most elaborate, was
cooked to perfection, and everybody fell to with a will.
Early hours were kept here as in our other travelling
home, and the same routine was pursued in the
morning. Breakfast was served about eight o'clock.
The flat prairie land rolled away rapidly beneath our
iron tread, and lay in long dusky lines behind us.
Imperceptibly the scenery around us changed. We
passed a succession of wild, low-lying hills, brown
and bare ; then more hills growing higher and
greener, rising out of the swampy lands, where herds
of cattle and wild shaggy ponies were standing knee
deep and grazing among the red willows and long
green grass. The skies were leaden, the wind began
to blow, and the rain to fall. We passed a quiet
little lake, dotted all over with wild ducks, and prairie
birds flying restlessly over them. Signs of life
became stronger. We flew past wooden shanties, and
now and then caught sight of a lonely settler's hut
high up in the hills. Presently we rolled into a low,
flat, straggling village, or rather town, for every group
of a dozen houses is so dis'nified here. This was
78
TFIllOUOir CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
..•Ni"
rouncil BliilTs. Ilorc we loft onr cosy car, and
crossrd the bloak windy space wliicli yawned between
us and llio car ycle[)t "the Duinniy ! " which was to
carry us to Omalia.
W(^ were crjinirued into a long, comfortless, wagon-
like ('!ir with a host of nondescri])t folk, some bearing
babies, bundles, or l)askets of fish or vegetables, some
tattered and torn, some unshaven, unshorn, all mixed
up liKJiili'ty pi<Jill('f>J- It was stuffy and by no means
savoiy, for the windows were all closed to keep out
tlie wind and the rain, wliieh was now pouring in
torrents. Vor a few moments we looked out shivering
on the most desolate prospect. The skies were heavy
with huge, black clouds, whose growling thunders
went reverberating like a, cannonade among the
surrounding hills. The wind howled like a shrieking
demon, and came creeping in at every crevice, till we
shi\'ered in its icy grasp. Dreary without and dreary
within !
I5ut we look forward hopefully. In half an hour
we shall rench Omnha, where we expect to be well
boused and fed. Slowly wo begin to move. Oiu'
" dummy " finds voice enough to groan and pant pain-
fully with its brazen lungs as it carries us across the
bridge which spans the Missouri River and connects
Omaha with Council Bluffs. The bridge is a mile
long, and we go very slowly over it. The river, which
at this point is the colour and consistency of thick pea
soup, or a liquefied London fog, winds with a sluggish
motion below us, wriggling its way between the iron
piers with a sullen, rebellious gurgle, as though it
was ashamed of its defiled condition, and hated
to be driven from its own bright waters, which were
WKSTWARI) HO
f
79
sparkling clear as crystal not so many miles away.
But once sot floatin*^ in a mnddy stream in the world
of waters, as in the world of men, it is dillieult to
mingle with the pure living waters again.
At lust we creak and rnmhlo into the station at
Omaha. Our poor dunnny's joints are rusty iind want
oiling. It seems glad to stop, and so are we. We
glance round us, and feel we are on the threshold of a
new world. The platform is crowded with a motley
assemhlage of people, from which the "genteel" ele-
ment seems to be wholly eliminated. Tiiere is a
hurrying to and fro of many feet, a general l)Ustlo
and confusion reigning everywhere. A very babel of
voices is ringing round us. The harsh guttural (ler-
man, the liquid Itnlian, and the mellitluous Spanish
mingles with the Yaidvce twang and Irish brogue.
The emigrant train has just arrived and disgorged its
living freight. The platform overflows with them,
they are everywhere, all witli a more or less travel-
stained look. Having been penned up so long in such
close quarters they are glad to get out and stretch
their legs and rinse the dirt from their grimy faces.
Swarthy men, with bare arms, are splashing abput in
buckets ; some are performing their ablutions under
the pump, or in anything that comes handy. One
sad-eyed German woman, with a child in her arms,
is sitting entrenched amongst an army of bags and
bundles, and dipping an old handkerchief into a
pint cup of water is wiping her child's face and her
own, refreshing themselves as they best could there-
with. I stop and put a packet of candy into the little
one's hand. The mother stares vacantly, and slowly
extracting a copper coin from a poor, little, ragged
V**',
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)
//
is.
S" C^x
1.0
I.I
1.25
•^ 1^ 1 2.2
12.0
Hi 14
US la
u
1.8
U III 1.6
V]
y]
c-l
^i
'^>
y
y;^
?>■
r
80 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
purse, whicli she drew from her bosom, offers it in
payment.
The women as a rule look faded, wan, and anxious ;
the men energetic and strong, confident and assured,
with a bright, never-say-die look upon their faces.
They look as if they meant "work," and were
able to do it. There seem to be only a few loafers
and loungers scattered among them, weak, indolent
creatures, who had not pluck enough to fight their
way in their own land, and are journeying in search
of a general El Dorado, a sort of " Tom Tidler's
ground," where they could go " picking up gold and
silver.
They are to wait three hours at the station before
they resume their journey west. It is a strange
gathering, that flock of varying nationalities, all
bound on one adventurous errand — a wave of the Old
World breaking on the shores of the New.
The Grand Pacific Hotel having been destroyed by
fire, we get into an omnibus which conveys us to
the Cosmopolitan, which is a striking contrast to
the magnificent hotels which have hitherto lined our
route. It is second-rate in style, but also second-
rate in price. No lounges ; no easy-chairs ; no velvet
carpets under foot. The floom are sanded ; the chairs
. uncompromisingly hard and upright : but the beds
are comfortable enough ; meals excellently cooked,
though roughly served. We enjoy all the necessities,
but none of the luxuries of life. As we only intend to
remain in Omaha for a day we walk out to take a view
of the town. It is a most dreary, desolate-looking city,
with wide, straggling, dusty streets, and next to nobody
in them. The shops are numerous enough, such as they
WESTWARD ho!
SI
are, but seedy-looking and scantily supplied. Nobody
is doing anything; there seems to be nothing to do.
The shopkeepers lounge in their doorways ; they don't
appear to have energy enough even to gossip with
their neighbours. The very children seem to have no
heart for childish roistering ; their spirits droop under
the atmospheric depression ; they come trooping out
of school and wend their way homeward in a stolid,
orderly fashion. The side-streets are overgrown with
dank grass and weeds ; in the outskirts of the city little
wooden houses, looking exactly as if they had come out
of a Noah's Ark, are scattered irregularly about, each
standing in its little barren patch of ground. We
spend the morning in wandering through these
dusty, windbloY/n streets. We return to the hotel,
take a hasty lunch, an hour's rest, then sally forth
again. By this time something has happened
to stir the dead city into life. For the hour it
is roused from its normal condition. The shops are
closed, the population has turned out into the streets,
and people come flocking in from all parts of the
country — some on foot, some in ramshackle old vehicles
which look as though they had never worn a 'coat of
paint, and so dilapidated we wonder how they
manage to keep together; the wheels seem to be
struggling to run different ways, but the big, bony
steed draws them through dust and mire, till the
vantage-point is gained in the streets of Omaha. A
few fluttering flags are now flying. The Stars and
Stripes are everywhere, and on turning a sharp corner
we stand face to face with a triumphal arch built up of
egg boxes and old beer barrels, which are partially
covered with evergreens and paper flowers, and in big>
82
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
-0''
blazing, though somewhat tumbledown letters across
the top is written " Welcome Grrant."
So the gallant G-eneral is expected to-day, and that
is the cause of the commotion. He is to make a
royal progress through the streets of Omaha, and all
the city turns out to do him honour, though the female
part of the population is sparsely represented. Indeed
there is scarcely a woman to be seen out of doors. It
is here we gain our first view of the Western man pre-
cisely as he lives in the pages of Bret Harte & Co.,
where we have so often seen him in our mind's eye ;
but here he is a personality before us — dark, hollow-
cheeked, stern-visaged, slouch-hatted, top-booted ; there
are scores of him, hundreds of him ; he tramps along
the side-walk, he overflows into the stony roadway.
The aspect of this swarm of rough, unkempt men is
rather alarming to us unprotected females. But " he
roars him soft," and respectfully makes way for us to
pass. It seems strange to find a silent, well-ordered
crowd formed of such rough elements. There is no
horse-play, no vulgar '' chaff," or foul language, such
as would characterize a similar crowd in most of our
civilized cities. But, alas ! the romance that might cling
to this Western hero is spoiled by his personal habits.
He has small acquaintance with soap and water, and
he chews tobacco. The result which marks his track
wherever he wanders is visible and revolting. How-
ever, he is stout of limb and true of heart. We feel
instinctively that a rude word or discourteous act in
our presence is simply impossible, so we lift our un-
protected heads and march on triumphant. We feel
we must keep moving, though we are disposed to lag
and see what is to be seen of the show. We have not
WESTWARD ho! 83
sauntered many steps when the engine bell rings.
" Lo ! the conquering hero comes ! " There is a buzz,
a general stir, and all eyes are turned in one direc-
tion. We fall back, and are promoted to a position in
the front rank on the curbstone.
There was a coal-black negress on one side of us,
dressed in a pale-blue dress with white trimmings, a
scarlet shawl, a pink bonnet with red and yellow
roses, and a pea-green parasol. She was evidently
happy, and her white teeth gleamed through a wreath
of smiles. The procession came in sight headed by
a band of music, a huge drum being the chief in-
strument ; fifes and flutes squeaking their loudest,
each trying to get ahead of the other, running a race
with time rather than trying to keep it. The poor
" Star Spangled Banner " was torn with discords,
tattered in tune, its own creator would not have known
it. Next came the G-eneral in an old-fashioned coach
drawn by six horses, evidently promoted from the
ploughshare for this special occasion. Mrs. Grant
followed, with her son and some lady friends, all
looking smiling, good-tempered, and happy, as though
the dreary boredom of a reception awaited them not.
Then came a curious procession of wagons, repre-
senting the different trades of the town. There was
the blacksmith, hammer in hand, labouring at the
anvil, bellows blowing, sparks flying round him as
though he were in his native smithy ; the cutler, the
nailmaker, the carpenter, the cooper, etc., all sur-
rounded by the implements of their trade, and plying
them, too, with a will. Last of this novel procession
came a wagon filled with pretty young girls, all busily
engaged hemming, sewing, and frilling at their
84
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
different sewing-machines. This closed the procession,
and " The Magnificent Reception of General Grrant by
the Citizens of Omaha" was duly chronicled. It
flashed along the telegraph wires and flamed in the
face of the world before the sun had set.
The multitude melted away as quietly as it had
collected, and we went on our way to the Pullman car
office to secure our section for the morning. The clerk
was with the Reception Committee, and we had to
wait for his return. We were entertained meanwhile
by the rhapsodies of one of the General's wildest
admirers, who turned on the tap of conversation and
filled us to the brim with voluntary information.
" I fought under the General fourteen years ago.
Ah ! he's a man, the General is ! Talk of him being-
President ! He ought to be emperor. There'd be
no disunited States while he was around, I warrant.
I haven't seen him for years, but he knew me. They
stopped at the corner of Tenth ; I jumped on the
carriage steps : ' Hurrah, General,' says I, ' I fought
under you at '
" ' All right ! ' says he, and shook hands. Ah !
he's a smart fellow. No other general could have done
what he did."
A tall aristocratic looking man, who was standing
by waiting his turn, moved coolly away from the
group.
The face of the General's friend knotted itself into
an expression of deep disgust. He evidently deemed
that cold water was thrown on his enthusiasm.
" There goes a copperhead," he snarled. " I can
smell 'em a mile off. We haven't done with 'em yet :
we've only scotched the snake, not killed it ; we shall
WESTWARD HO
85
have to thrash 'em again, and I'll be the first to shoulder
a musket."
In this strain he continued. We transacted our
business and descended the stairs. His voice followed
us, growing more fiercely eloquent, till we were out of
hearing. I fancy he had been drinking the General's
health too freely.
We were not very sorry to leave Omaha next
morning, for we had rested little during the night,
having made a bad selection of rooms. Our door
opened on to the general parlour (all sitting-rooms are
called parlours), and a gruff, growling wave of conver-
sation swept over our ears from time to time till long
past midnight. Indeed, we were kept lively in more
ways than one. Meanwhile a violent rain began to
fall, and beat frantically against our window panes,
and I dreamt that the whole sky was turned into a dome
of whalebone and calico, and this globe of ours was
whirling around beneath a gigantic umbrella. I was
not sorry when our twenty-four hours at Omaha were
over.
86
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER IX.
ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
Our Fellow-passengers — Unprotected Females — Prairie Dog Land
— A Cosy Interior — Cheyenne — The Eocky Mountains —
" Castles not Made by Hands " — Ogden.
We start once more on our pleasant Pullman car ; we
arrange our tiny packages and make ourselves as much
as possible " at home " in our cosy section. The car is
crowded, as the different lines of railway end here, and
all who are westward bound must come on this one
daily train from Omaha. We look round on our
fellow-passengers. As a rule, they are simply common-
place, such as nature manufactures by millions and
turns out merely labelled men and women, with no
special characteristics except their sex. There are,
however, some exceptions. In the opposite section is
a big, burly fellow in jackboots, a huge sombrero, a
frieze coat, which looks as though it ought to be stuck
full of bowie-knives and pistols, and such a growth
of crisp dark hair, he seems smothered under it ;
a pair of bright eyes gleam out from its bushy
surroundings, full of enterprise, energy, and spirit ;
he is a miner, we learn, going on by stage two
hundred miles from Cheyenne to the Black Hills. The
companion of his section is a tall, delicate-looking
ACROSS TEE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 87
young man, so thin and fragile it seems as though a
gust of wind would blow him out of this world into
the next. He rarely speaks, but sits leaning his head
upon his hand, coughing the terrible, hacking cough
which tells a sad story. He is travelling in search
of health, he tells us ; the more eagerly he pursues,
the faster it seems to fly from him. In our mind's
eye we see the phantom Death chasing him from
land to land ; it will too surely run him down and
lay him to rest beneath the bright Californian skies,
and hide him from the world's eyes where even his
own mother will never be able to find him. We are
sorry to see this forlorn stranger solitary and alone ;
we are anxious to show him some sympathy, but
there is nothing to be done ; it hurts him to talk, and
he has all he wants within reach of his own hands.
His rough companion, bound for the Black Hills,
seems to take a tender interest in him, and shows his
sympathy in a silent, unobtrusive way difficult to
specify. In the next section to ours there is a pretty
young girl ; she is travelling quite alone from Boston
to Arizona, a journey of twelve days and nights, in
perfect comfort and safety. A lady can do that in this
country without running the slightest risk of annoy-
ance or inconvenience in any way. The conductors
and all the train officials devote themselves most
loyally to her service, and are always at hand to give
her any advice or information she may require. They
pass her on from train to train or from stage to stage
till she arrives at the end of her journey, having
received the same courteous attention throughout.
Indeed, to thoroughly enjoy travelling in perfect com-
fort and freedom from anxiety, one must be an unpro-
HB THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
tected female. To her the manly heart yields his
interest in car or stage ; gives her the best seat, that
she may be screened and curtained, while he broils in
the sun ; for her he fights a way to the front ranks of
refreshment rooms, skirmishes with the coffee-pot, and
bears triumphant ices aloft ; for her he battles with
baggage-masters, baffles the hungry-hearted loafer,
scares the barefooted beggar, and, not being her legi-
timate owner, he carries her bandbox, and, should she
be burdened with that doubtful blessing, he even
carries her baby ! I have seen him do it. There was
a general demand upon his chivalry on board this car,
but there was plenty of him and only four of us.
Besides ourselves and the pretty girl before referred
to, there was a snuff-coloured young lady with snuff-
coloured hair, snuff-coloured eyes, and dress to match,
a greyish complexion, and rather grave, sad expression
of countenance. She was not good-looking, but one
felt an interest in watching her. Her face had a story
in it.
Having so far taken note of our fellow-passengers,
we lean back in our seats and look out upon the vast
prairie-lands, which roll before and around us like a
grey-green, motionless sea. The prospect is wild and
dreary. Occasionally we see a trapper's dug-out or
watch a solitary hunter galloping towards his hut some-
where up in the distant mountains. The scene grows
monotonous ; nay, wearisome. Nothing but the grey-
green prairie-land and bright blue sky ; the novelty of
it has worn off. Presently we come upon the prairie
dogs' wild domain, and see scores of these funny little
animals scampering along till they reach each his par-
ticular hole, where he sits on his hind legs a moment,
ACROSS TOE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
glancing curiously round and listening, then, turning
a somersault, disappears, head first, down his burrow.
They are plump little creatures, like guinea pigs, only
much larger, and something the colour of the prairie-
grass; they are sociable little animals, and live not only
in the companionship of their own kind, for the bur-
rowing owl and even the rattlesnake seem to form part
of the family. The owl may often be seen solemnly
sitting at the mouth of the hole, and the bones of the
rattlesnake have not unfrequently been found therein-
Once we catch a glimpse of a herd of antelopes flying,
like the wind, across the plain. They have come and
gone like a flash ; nothing more breaks the monotony
of that day's journey.
The blinding sunlight dazzles our eyes ; we with-
draw them from the scene without and glance round
upon the cheerful prospect within. Some ara indulging
in reminiscences of old times, when it had taken them
six weary months of toil, privation, and danger to
cross these plains, which they are now doing luxuriously
in seven days. In one section a rubber of whist is in
progress in sociable but solemn silence ; in another a
pair of travellers bound for the Black Hills are engaged
in the game of poker, and cut, deal, shuffle, and play
with such rapidity that we can catch no idea of the
game ; some lounge over the whist-table watching the
players ; the snuff-colored girl leans back in her seat
with folded hands lying idly in her lap, gazing with
vacant eyes, not on the desolation round her, but
possibly on her own invisible life, which may be a
more dismal prospect still ; the pretty girl gets out her
tatting, and we have a pleasant chat and exchange
small confidences together : her parents are dead, she
90 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
tells me, and she has not a relation in the world except
her brother, who is settled in Arizona, and she is now
going to make her home with him.
" I haven't seen him since I was three years old,"
she added, showing his portrait ; " he is sixteen years
older than I am."
" You are quite sure of a welcome ? "
" Oh yes ; I know he'll be glad to see me. He
wanted me to come, and he is such a good brother,"
she added, confidently. " He'll come to meet me in
San Francisco, if he can."
So time passes till we reach Cheyenne. There we
all turn out in anticipation of having a thoroughly
good meal, and are not disappointed. We enjoy a
capital dinner, a very necessary thing in these moun-
tain regions. The hot soup is excellent ; then we have
broiled trout and a roast of black-tailed deer, the most
delicious-flavoured, tender meat conceivable ; fresh
vegetables and fruits are plentifully supplied ; and, as
a crowning bliss, we enjoy the luxury of black coffee ;
and, in a perfectly h^ppy, contented frame of mind, we
re-enter our Pullman home.
Everybody is content, and everybody has a good
word for Cheyenne. Why is it that things are not
equally well managed throughout this well-travelled
route ? As a rule, the eating-stations are wretchedly
supplied. We have thrown away many a noble
appetite on a tough, tasteless steak and watery soup,
that had scarcely strength to run down our throats.
Indeed, Cheyenne, Humboldt, and Laramie are the
only stations where a thoroughly good, comfortable
meal may be relied on. A well-filled luncheon-basket
is a necessity, a comfort, as well as an economy, for
ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
91
the charges at these places are a dollar for anything,
unless you crowd to the emigrants' refreshment bar,
where cooking is by no means studied as a high
art.
Leaving Cheyenne we charge gallantly forward,
climbing higher and higher, till we are in the regions
of snow and ice, and at last reach Sherman, the highest
point of these Rocky Mountains, eight thousand two
hundred feet above the level of the sea. The rarefied
air affects the breathing of some of our party, and
one gallant officer, who has gone through the smoke
and fire of many battles unharmed, is seized with an
ignominious bleeding at the nose. For us, we suffer not
the slightest inconvenience. We have left the rolling
prairies behind us, and now, by imperceptible grades,
begin to descend this wide range of Rocky Mountains.
Vast, rugged, and bare in their stony strength they lie
before us ; a bright blue sky bends bell-like over us,
bathes us in a kind of spiritual sunshine, and shuts us
in from the troublous world beyond. We feel we are
intruders in this wondrous solitude ; it seems as though
Nature should have it all to herself here, and hurl us
poor pigmies out of it. But in these days Nature is
allowed to hold nothing sacredly her own ; as she
retreats we follow her even to her farthest fastnesses, —
in time we shall reach her even there. Our living
street dashes on through this world of the olden gods.
We fancy that in some far-distant ages this must have
been a wide overwhelming sea, lashed to fury and then
turned to stone. As we descend the rcene changes ;
the rocks assume strange, fantastic forms, weird, solemn,
or grotesque. On every side we are surrounded by
some new wonder. There is something in the grandeur
92
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRfE LANDS.
of this silent world which makes us feel small and sad ;
we cease talking, and are borne through this sublime
region in awe-struck silence.
Ruined castles, not made by hands, with buttress
and battlements falling to decay, frown dc^rkly over us.
The remains of some ancient cathedrals, where we can
fancy the uluen gods held solemn service, cling to the
grey rock beside us. But tower and buttress, castled
crag and battlemented ruins fade from our sight, and
we come upon new scenes of equal wonder. We pass
through serried swords of rock, which look as though
they had been lifted there by some dead Hercules at
war with the mightier gods. We whistle and shriek as
we rush past the giant's jaws, whose jagged teeth seem
set ready to grind us to powder, but they are fixed
immovable till the judgment day. We pass the Pulpit
Rock, where the stony preacher has stood silent look-
ing southward since the world began. There is a
tradition that the Prophet of the Lord, the leader of
the Latter Day Saints, whose province we are fast
approacliing, once preached there to his people during
their early perilous journey, while they were ignorant
of the marvellous Salt Lake and valleys beyond, where
they have since made their home. There are numerous
small towns and villages hidden away among those
mountainous regions, which are intersected by fertile
valleys, and where beautiful rivers are eternally flow-
ing ; but we see nothing of them, we are only told
that they are there. We are now entering the famous
Echo and Weber Canons, of which we had heard so
much. Here the grandeur of the whole rugged range
seema to have reached its highest point. We are in a
narrow gorge between rocks of colossal and majestic
ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
dimensions, rising perpendicularly on either side of us,
SO high and so near that our eyes have to climb
steadily till they reach the topmost peak. We, with
our petty passions and frail human life, the last, and,
as we are told, the best of all God's works, feel dwarfed
and insignificant beside these gigantic memorials,
which stand through all ages the insignia of His im-
mortal honour and glory. We steam for miles through
this rocky world of wonders, amid a stillness so pro-
found that the whistle of our engine echoes, re-echoes,
and is flung back upon our ears multiplied and sound-
ing like the shrieks of invisible demons giving us a
mocking welcome to their silent land. We are nearing
the narrows, where the caiion is drawing its rocky
sides together, closing us in as it were. There seems
to be no escape for us ; we feel as though we must be
dashed down the precipice which yawns below. But
we round a sharp curve, and the scene widens. On
our right is a wide ledge of rugged, grey rocks, where,
we are told, the Mormons made a stand in 1857, and
erected a fort close by, the ruins of which are still
visible. There they piled up masses of rock and stones
to hurl down upon the United States Army, which
it was found expedient to send against them. The
Nauvoo regiments, we are told, encamped here close
beneath the prow of the " Great Eastern," a huge red
rock, so called from the resemblance it bears to that
portion of a gigantic vessel ; a small cedar-tree waves
like a green flag over it, and the deck and other parts
of the stony vessel slope away and are swallowed up
and lost in the shapeless mass of grey rocks surround-
ing A little farther on, sombre and weird, stand The
Three Witches, as though whispering together, plotting
94
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
mischief, manufacturing and sending forth storms,
hurricanes, and cyclones to devastate the world of man
below. Now we are fast approaching what is perhaps
the most marvellous of all these strange formations,
" The Devil's Shde," whither his Satanic Majesty is
supposed to retire for gymnastic exercises when he has
nothing else to do, which is not often, though the
" City of the Saints " is so near at hand. It is formed
of two slanting walls about a foot thick, which stand
out with their ragged, jagged edges about fifty feet,
and slope down the face of the huge body of rock
nearly close together, but leaving room for a whole
company of fiends to amuse themselves by sliding
down between them. We flash past The Thousand
Mile Tree, the solitary green thing which flourishes in
the precipitous wilds, and which tells us we are a
thousand miles from Omaha, and within an hour's ride
of Ogden. The night closes in very suddenly in these
regions, and even as we are looking on the wonders
round us they grow indistinct, and are soon lost in the
gloomy shadow which comes stealing stealthily down
as soon as the sun has set.
It is quite dark when we steam into the station ;
the gong is sounding (with that whirring, muffled,
deafening sound which only a Chinese gong can make)
an invitation to dinner, of which we are glad enough
to avail ourselves. Porters are dashing about with
lighted lanterns, luggage is lifted, and stacked, and
wheeled across the platform to the other train, for
there is a general change at this point, and all pas-
sengers are shifted from the Union, which ends here,
to the Central Pac^"fic, which takes up the journey and
progresses westward. An hour is allowed for dinner,
ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
95
and amid the clatter of knives and forks, a hurrying
to and fro of many feet, the sound of genial voices,
chatter and laughter, we dine. Soon, too soon, it
seems, the now familiar cry "All aboard ! all aboard ! "
greets our ears. A few hurried good-byes and the
westward bound speed on their way. We watch the
red fiery eye of the engine light fade from our sight,,
as it winks and blinks away in the darkness. We
re-enter the house, where we have decided to remain
for the night. All is silent and deserted now that the
guests of an hour have departed ; the lights are out,
and the few dusky servants flit to and fro in a noiseless
way. We have got the place all to ourselves, and
have plenty of time to look about us. It is a most
comfortable resting-place, more like a cosy English inn
than the more pretentious-sounding hotel. There are
no houses near it, the town of Ogden proper being
some little distance off, though still within sight of the
depot. Our resting-place is sandwiched between the
two lines of railway, the Union and Central Pacific.
It is a long, narrow, wooden building, only one story
high, the lower part being devoted to railway business
purposes, Pullman-car office, etc., and a large dining-
room, where, as the train steams in with its freight of
hungry travellers, an excellent, well-cooked meal awaits
them. The upper part consists of about ten or twelve
cosy white-curtained sleeping-rooms. We should
advise every one to rest here for a night on their way
westward ; it forms a delightful break in their journey.
Except for the passing trains this is a most lonely,
isolated spot, weird and still, lying in the heart of the
mountains. In the evening a blinding snowstorm
came on, and the wind, howling fearfully with a rush-
96
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
ing mighty sound, shook the doors and rattled at the
windows as though it wanted to come in and warm
itself at our blazing wood fire. As I said before, we
were the only guests in the house, and t|fe landlady
came in, bringing her work. The shaded lamps were
lighted, the wood crackled and blazed, and cast a
pleasant glow to our very hearts as we drew our chairs
round the fire.
Our landlady had lived in this locality five and
twenty years, and her mind was well stocked with
anecdotes, and filled with the legendary lore of these
wild regions. She opened her stores to us, and, as she
sat sewing, kept our interest alive till nearly midnight,
telling us of stormy times, interspersed with many
romantic incidents during the early days when the
Mormons first crossed the plains, previous +j making
their home among the mountains, when the railway
was unplanned, unthought of, and wagon trains of
adventurous men and women made their slow and
hazardous pilgrimage to the Western World.
The next morning we took the train to Salt Lake
City, and found ourselves plunged at once in the world
of Mormonland.
( 07 )
CHAPTER X.
THE CITY OP THE SAINTS.
Salt Lake — Our Mormon Conductor — Mormon Wives — Their
Daughters — Their Recruits — Their Agricultural Population.
There are few passengers on board the train as we
steam through the suburban districts of Mormonland.
The magnificent chain of the Wahsatch Mountains
rising in the east, and the great Salt Lake stretching
away toward the west, the rest of the scene made up
of fertile lands, green meadows, fields of yellow corn,
and purple clover, form an enchanting panorama as we
fly past them ; we are full of an undefined curiosity
and anxious to see this City of the Saints of which we
have heard so much. We soon discover that none but
the "Saints" are employed on board this train, none but
Mormon faces gather round us, they check our baggage,
punch our tickets, and render us every necessary
courtesy, which would do credit to the gentlest of
Gentiles. Our conductor seems disposed to make him-
self quite at home ; he takes a seat beside us, and
commences a pleasant conversation ; he knows we are
from England, and proceeds to give us all kinds of
miscellaneous and useful information, lla 2)oint.s out
the different features in the landscape, and tells us of
thrifty villages and thriving farms which are scattered
II
98 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
among the mountains. He talks freely of the flourish-
ing condition of the City of tlio Saints ; but he avoids
any special allusion to the peculiarities of the saints
themselves. During our two hours' run from Ogden
to Salt Lake City he grows more and more sociably
disposed. We try to guide the conversation into the
channel where we desire it should go. We wonder
whether he is a Mormon or one of the Grentile sect,
which is now numerously represented in that once
exclusive land. We ask the question pointblank.
" Yes, ma'am, I'm proud to say I am," he answers,
swelling with invisible glory ; it is now he informs us
that the whole line of railway was built by the Mormon
people, and is exclusively run by them, no other labour
being employed.
" I came here," he adds, " when I was six years
old, when our people were forced to leave Nauvoo. I
remember trotting along by my mother's side as we
were driven out of the city at the point of the bayonet,
the soldiers pricking ?md goading us like cattle. I
shall never forget that time. — never, if I live to be a
hundred years old ; but we pulled through, and here
we arc in the most beautiful and flourishing valley in
the wdiole wide world."
" And — I am afraid my question may seem imperti-
nent — but may I ask how many wives you have?" I ask,
growing bolder. He laughs, pulls off his cap, and
exhibits a remarkably fine mass of bright brown curls.
" See my head of hair ! " he exclaims. " Well, I
have only got one wife ; if I took home another, thi3
head of mine would be sand-papered ! There are
scores of us," he added, " who never dream of taking
more than one wife."
THE CITY OF THE SAINTS.
90
" Then polygamy is not imposed on you as a part
of your religion ? " I inquire.
" Certainly not ; but it is our right if wc choose to
adopt it. It is difterent now from the early days,
when it was necessary, for our good God's sake, that
his people of Zion should increase and multiply, so as
to fill the kingdom of heaven." I felt disposed to
suggest that the kingdom of heaven might perhaps be
able to get along without the aid of Brigham Young's
progeny, but as that observation might appear ir-
reverent I withheld it, and he continued : " For my
part I've found that one wi^-^ is quite as much as I can
manage. I've never felt inclined to increase my family
that way, and I don't believe there is a happier man in
all Salt Lake than I am."
We reach the City of the Saints at last, and find it
as fair and beautiful as we had expected. It is in truth
an oasis in a desert, a blooming garden in a wilderness
of green. We can scarcely conceive how this flowery
world has lifted itself from the heart of desolation ; it
is only one moT-e proof that the intellect and industry
of man can master the mysteries of nature, and force
her in her most harsh uncompromising moods to bring
forth fair fruits. It lies in a deep wide valley,
bounded on the east by the mighty range of the
Wahsatch Mountains, which lift their lonely ice-
crowned heads far into the skies, their rugged stony
feet stretching away and reaching towards the west,
where the great Salt Lake unrolls its dark waters, and
widens and wanders away until it is lost in the dis-
tance. The streets are wide, the houses of all sorts
and bizes, some one storey high, some two or even three,
all built in different styles, or no style of architecture ;
1
II 'l
11
I
100 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRlFl LANDS.
each man having huilt his dwelling in accordance with
his own taste or convenience. The streets are all
arranged in long straight rows, and stretch away till
they seem to cro vvl up the mountain-sides and then are
lost. On either side of the roadways are magnificent
forest-trees, which in summer-time must form i most
delightful shade, though now it is autumn and the
leaves are falling fast. Streams of water with their
pleasant gurgling music flow on either side, through a
deep cutting (which we should irreverently call the
gutter), rushing along as though they were in a hurry
to reach some everlasting sea. The women come out
with their buckets and help themselves, while the
children sail their toy boats, clapping their hands glee-
fully as the tiny craft is tossed, and tumbled, and borne
along on the face of the bubbling water. Street-cars
come crawling along the straight streets, crossing and
recrossing each other at different points ; but a private
cab or carriage is rarely to be seen. Every house, be
it only composed of a single room, is surrounded by
a plot of garden ground, where fruits, flowers, and
vegetables all grow together in loving companionship.
Everything seems flourishing, and everybody seems
well-to-do ; there are no signs of poverty anywhere ;
no bare-footed whining beggars fill the streets ; tramps
there may be, passing from one part of the State to
another, but these are all decently dressed and well fed,
for at whatever door they knock they are sure to find
food and shelter, charity to those in need being a part
of the reigning religion.
The children who swarm on all sides are the
healthiest, rosiest, happiest looking urchins conceiv-
able; some perfectly beautiful specimens of young
THE CITY OF THE SAINTS.
101
humanity. One felt sorry to think they must develop
into the bewhiskered man or b?frizzled woman ; there
was not a pale or sickly face in all the multitude.
There are no signs of rank or fashion anywhere ; there
are no drones lounging about in this community, they
are all busy bees ; every man and every woman, too,
does his or her share in the labour market, all accord-
ing to their special abilities ; and here is the only true
republic in all America, elsewhere it is the name and
not the thing. Here republicanism exists in its genuine
form ; it is not a commune, and encourages no com-
munistic principles. Here every one must work,
uniting therein for the common good of all. Wealth,
represented by gold or other possessions, is unequally
distributed as in other large cities. Some live in
large houses, some in small, some wear broadcloth,
some wear frieze ; but the man who labours with his
hands and the man who works with his brain, those
who plan and those who execute, live together in a
common brotherhood — for they are equally well edu-
cated, and have grown up in or helped to make the
world they live in. The idle or the dissolute are
speedily hunted out of the community. There is an
equality in tone and manner among all conditions of
people which strikes rather discordantly upon our
ideas of the harmony of things, but we soon get
used to it. We meet with a general pleasant courtesy,
which is never vulgar, never over-free ; there is a
sense of equality, a sort of " one man as good as
another," which is always felt though never obtrusively
asserted. The woman who washes your linen, and
the man who wheels your baggage, do it with a
sort of courteous friendliness, considering that you
102 Tiniouoii (UTiKS AND riiAiiiii': lands.
aro as much obliged to them as they to you ; no
kind of manual labour is looked upon as discreditable
or below the dignity of any man. I have seen a
Mormon bishop, in his shirt sleeves and corduroys,
working hard in a timber-yard or carpentering at a
bench. Schools and churches of all denominations and
creeds aljound ; every child has a right to an equal
education at the expense of the State of Utah. The
Mormon city is now by no means held sacred to the
Mormons, for people of all nations come flocking
thither, erecting their own places of worship, and
following their own faith. A plot of land has been
lately set apart for a Jewish synagogue ; but woe upon
any one of them who sliall attempt to interfere or win
a single proselyte from the Mormon fold. While liberal
(with a forced liberality, perhaps) towards other
religions, they are devoted to their own ; and in all
social and domestic matters, they keep as much apart
from the opposing forces as though they lived in
different kingdoms. In all business relations they mix
freely enough and have extensive trading transactions
with all nations, and carry on their operations with a
shrewdness and tact which is popularly supposed to be
the reigning characteristic of the " Jewish persuasion."
There is no exclusion where the " almighty dollar " is
concerned. They allow no chance of money-making
to flow past them. Signs of prosperity and plenty are
everywhere ; to the mere passer-by or transient tra-
veller, who can judge from outward appearances only,
the State of Utah is the most flourishing in the Union.
AVith its mines, its metals, its marvellous agricultural
productions, its wealth of fruits and flowers, it seems
as though the horn of plenty emptied -'tself in the lap
TIIR CITY OF THE SAINTS.
103
of this fiivouved land. Out of doors in tlio streets tlio
brisk, bustling population are erowdinp^ to and fro, all
is gay and bright ; the sun shines, the genial air stirs
and invigorates the spirit, the pulse beats to healthful
music, while the surrounding scene of swelling hills
and glorious mountains is beautiful to behold. It is
only on the threshold of home that the shadow falls ;
indeed, there is no such thing as home, regarding it
from our point of view, as the centre of domestic
happiness, of affectionate intercourse, and mutual con-
fidence ; it simply does not and cannot exist. ^Vhen
the interests and the affections are subdivided into so
many different channels, they flow in a weak, sluggish
spirit through all. I have had the good fortune to get
an insight into the inner lives of the Mormon women,
and have seen the skeleton -grinning on their hearth-
stones. They are well cared for so far as creature
comforts are concerned. The wives of the wealthier
classes have handsome, well-furnished houses, and
devote themselves to the care and education of their
children ; but there is a gloom and emptiness at their
firesides, a vacant place, wliich is filled only with a
mockery, an unreal shadow. lie who is the head of
one household to-day hangs up his hat in another home
to-morrow. The ladies of refined, cultivated minds,
and there are many of them, have a patient- waiting
look upon their faces painful to behold ; it seems as
though the cross they carry is sometimes heavier than
they can bear, and they long to lay it down and be at
rest. My remarks do not apply indiscriminately to all,
for there are many wives who are perfectly happy in
the polygamic state ;'^ women to whom the children are
more than the husband, whose maternal instincts are
104 THROUGH CITIES AND rUAIllIE LANDS.
much stronger than their conjugal aftections. This
type of womanhood is not specially restricted to Mor-
monland ; but to women of a more deUcatc spiritual
organization, who feel the necessity of loving and
being loved in the divinest, purest sense, this life of
divided affections is torture. They live a life of daily
crucifixion of spirit. They suffer doubly, as they are
imbued with a strong sense of religion and believe
that polygamy is right ; indeed, one of God's holy
ordinances. They are constantly engaged in a spiritual
warfare, struggling with and against themselves. The
voice of nature rebelling against her enforced bondage
is regarded as the voice of the evil one, to be stilled
only by prfiyers and self-mortification. The Mormon
ladies are not the light-minded, sensuous race they are
popularly supposed to be ; on the contrary, they are
grave, earnest women, strong in the faith they have
been brought up in ; their minds are completely under
the control of their bishops and elders, whose words
are to them as the written law of the Lord. It is
impossible for any legislation from the outer world to
remedy this evil ; it lies in the spirit of the people
beyond the reach of human hands. It is easy enough
to strike the chains from the body, but it is impossible
to free the mind from the bondage of a superstitious
faith. Polygamy is an ulcer at the root of their
religion ; it may be dispersed by time and careful
treatment, but can never be torn out.
The greater number of the present generation of
Mormon women were born there, or from their infancy
have drank in with their mothers' milk the teaching of
their elders, until it has grown into the essence of their
lives; how could it be otherwise? Until late vears
THE CITY OF THE SAINTS.
105
there liad been i\o communication between Salt Lake
City and the outer world. They knew nothing but
what tliey were taught by those whose interest it was
to keep them in a state of spiritual bondage. Their
parents, in a frenzy of religious fervour, had traversed
the wilderness, struggled through famine, and fire, and
sword, had gone through the valley of the shadow of
death in search of this modern Zion, shut in by inac-
cessible mountains ; their children were bred and born
in a whirl of enthusiasm, and naturally inherited the
spirit as well as the life of their parents. So much for
the present generation of matrons ; but they are passing
away, and things are looking brighter for the rising
population, since the railway has brought civilization
with its train of worldly vanities into their midst, and
the voice of their sister women has reached their ears,
to say nothing of the Gentiles who swarm around
them, and whose very presen'»o must have a subtle
influence over them. A change has come over the
irreverent spirit of youth. The girls are rather shy
of entering into polygamous marriages ; they have
seen enough, and seem to have no desire to enact their
mothers' lives over again. Their suitors sigh in vain.
The Mormon girls, as a rule, are very beautiful, with
fine eyes, and soft, rich complexions like a peach-
blossom, and seem disposed to join the general march
onwards. In one of our saunters through the city we
met two bright, blooming young girls, about seven-
teen, two of the many granddaughters of Brigham
Young, gay, happy-looking creatures. It would be
terrible to think they would ever sink into the faded,
woe-worn Mormon wife.
I admired their city, and inquired if they would be
content to live always at Salt Lake ?
10(>
TllllOLCII CITIES AM) PKAIUIK J.ANDS.
" Oh dear, no ! " said tlio youngCHt and prettiest.
" I want to <^o to Paris to study music ; then, if I Hke,
I can come back lierc and teach, you know," she
added with a roguisli hxugh.
"And I sliould like to f2;o to Europ(i to study
modicino. I shall never rest here," said her cousin ;
" and I think I am goinp; next sprin;:^,*."
This is a tolerable sjuuplo of the spirit which now
animates tlie youn^^ people. The (church has to send
its elders across the sea in searcli of recruits for tlie
matrimonial market, and they rarely fail to return
with a good supply as regards quantity ; for tlie
quality I would not vouch. During our stay at Salt
Lake some half-dozen elders returned from one of these
foraging exjieditions, and brought back a few score
of emigrants, both men and women, some with large
families, but all of a most unjiromising appearance. It
seemed as though they had raked the social gutter,
and brought thither the scum of all nations ; for a
more stolid, stupid-looking set of peo])le I never saw.
Well, insomuch as they rescue these poor creatures from
stifling courts and alleys, the regions of poverty,
ignorance, and dirt, where they liave scarcely air to
breatlie or food to eat, tliey are doing a good work.
Immediately on their arrival at Salt Laico these people
are sent off to the agricultural districts, where so many
acres of fertile land is awarded to each family, together
with wood and all necessary materials for running up
a house, and they commence to farm on a small scale,
raising stock or grain as may be most expedient. If a
man be intelligent and industrious he may speedily
become a thriving farmer and landowner in one of the
most beautiful valleys in the W(n'ld. So far, if the
Tfll-: CITY OF TFIE SAINTS.
107
Mormons let thorn alono, all would bo well, but they
don't ; thoy teach them their rolip^ion, and the men are
apt scholars. The seeds of polygamy once sown in tho
agricultural mind, it p^rows and flourishes like tho rank
weeds amcmfj; their f^olden g-rain, and it is universally
adopted. If a man wants a dairymaid, a cook, or oven
a scarecrow — ho marries one. A largcj amount of field
labour is done by women, and iliey, in most cases, are
the wives of their employers. Polygamy seems to work
well enough in the rural districts ; quite different from
its manifestations in the large cities, where tho women
have more time to brood and to feel ; besides, the people
are of a different calil)re, and are drawn from a lower
rank in life. I once draidc tea at a farmhouse, far
removed from the noisy city ; there were four or five
of the farmer's wives, all busily engaged in their several
duties; one was looking after the washing and ironing,
another was making np and packing butter and eggs
for market, others were passing to and fro, while tho
children swjirmed like bees on all sides of us, their
chattering voices and merry laughter making the only
music that is ever heard in that solitaiy homestead.
The fanner took ns round the farmyard to show us his
pigs, poultry, and cattle; we seizcid an opportunity to
remark upon his feminine household, and expressed a
wonder that so many wives managed to get along
without jarring.
" They've got too much work to do to think of
quarrelling ; besides, they're all in one boat, you know
— no one has got a pull over the other ; and so long as
folks don't come spying around, putting rubbish into
their heads, they will bo content to live — for tho glory
of God."
108
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XL
AMONG THE MORMONS.
Society — A Mormon Wife's View — The Shops — Amelia Palace —
The Tabernacle — The Organ — Endowment House — A Mor-
mon Widow — Currency in the Old Days — The Elders Hold
Forth.
During our stay in Salt Lake City we found the
Mormons most friendly and genial in their disposition
towards us ; but they do not like to talk of their
religion ; to the ladies especially the subject is dis-
tasteful ; neither do they care to receive into their
houses visitors from the Gentile world. They have
been so vexed and annoyed by the indiscreet questions
of curious tourists that they are disposed to shut their
doors upon the whole race. Through the influence of
some friends in England I made the acquaintance of
a Mormon wife, who admitted me within her family
circle, where I received advantages which are accorded
to few strangers. She has travelled a great deal in
Europe, but is now permanently settled in a beautiful
house in the centre of the city ; her mind has been
enlarged and enlightened during her sojourn abroad,
and, though still a good Mormon, she has withdrawn
from polygamy and left her husband in the full posses-
sion of three other wives ; perhaps they suffice to
AMOXa TIIK MORMONS.
101)
absorb his conjugal affections. At her liouse I met
some pleasant Mormon families. Gentlemen do not
escort a battalion of wives to these social gatherings,
but each accompanies the particular wife to whom ho
is for the time devoted. No favour must be shown ;
his affections must be weighed to a fraction, and
divided equally between the several claimants thereto.
The ladies were refined and pleasant enough ; I cannot
say much for the gentlemen. The Mormon men are
genial and good-natured, but as a rule are coarse
and sensual-looking, full of the physical strength and
energies of healthy life ; one cannot imagine a bad
digestion or ill-regulated liver among them.
Everybody asked us "how we liked Salt Lake."
That question being satisfactorily answered at least
fifty times in the course of an hour, wc talked and
chatted in much the same fashion as the rest of the
world would have done under similar circumstances.
Knowing that the typical state of society here was
utterly different to that in any other part of the world,
Ave were in a vague state of expectation and excite-
ment, and watched for some indication of it to come
to the surface ; we watched in vain. It was the same
here as elsewhere. In general society all the world
over, there is a frotliy bubble of conversation carried
on ; little is said that is worth repeating, indeed tliat is
wortli saying. I received a good deal of local informa-
tion, and was both amused and interested in the gossip
that gradually grew into circulation. Late in the
evening, while chatting more confidentially to a coterie
of ladies, I tried to seize the helm, and without any
actual breach of good breeding to steer the conversa-
tion towards matrimonial matters, but on that subject
.
110 TDROtCH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
they were scrupulously silent. They were delighted
to talk of their children ; some, and they were young-
looking matrons too, told me they had " fourteen
blessings ; " others who had not had time to produce
such a growth of humanity seemed, however, to be
doing their best to increase the population as fast as
.they could.
A woman is appreciated and respected according to
the number of her children ; those who have no family
are merely tolerated or set aside as "no account." As
a rule the childless wives live together under one roof,
while those "more highly favoured of the Lord" have
separate houses, and are more honourably regarded.
I visited one lady, the wife of a wealthy merchant,
an English gentleman, Avho had outraged his family
connections and nailed his colours to the Mormon
mast, though he had at no time indulged in the luxury
of more than two wives, and at present has only one.
Their residence is extremely beautiful ; it is built in
the fashion of an old-flishioned country house, with
gabled roof and pointed windows, and stands in a large
garden, beautifully laid out with rare shrubs and
luxuriant flowers, a lovely home; the mistress thereof
is a stately, noble-looking woman, with a grave earnest
face, and eyes that seemed to be looking far away from
this world into the next. There were two or three
young children playing with their toys on the hearth-
rug; some others were playing hide and seek, "whoop-
ing " in the garden. It seemed to mc that a Avholc
school had been let loose to enjoy a holiday.
" Sure," I exclaimed, *' these children cannot all
be yours ? "
" They are, and they are not," she answered. " I
AMONG THE MORMONS.
Ill
have fourteen children ; some are still in the nursery,
some are out in the world. Those," she added, indi-
cating a pair of toddlers on the hearthrug, " belong to
my sister wife, who died about a year ago ; but they
are the same as mine ; they know no difference. Our
children were all born under one roof, and we have
mothered them in turn."
" This must be an unusual state of affairs," I ven-
tured to remark, " even in Salt Lake. I should hardly
have thought it possible that two ladies could have
lived happily together under such circumstances."
" Nevertheless it is true," she answered.
" But do you mean to say," I urged, " that you
never feel any petty jealousies ? "
" I do not say that," she said somewhat sharply.
" We are none of us perfect, and are all liable to the
evil influence of earthly passions ; but when we feel
weak and failing we pray to God to help us, and He
does."
" You are a strange people," I could not help ob-
serving. "In no other place in the world could such
a state of things exist."
"Because nov/hero else would you have the same
faith to support you."
" But would you desire A'our daughters to enter
into a polygamous marriage ? " I persisted.
" If I could choose," she answered gravely, " they
should each be the one wife to n. good husband ; but
that must be as God pleases. Whatever their destiny
may be their religion will help them to bear it."
Evidently desiring to end the conversation, she
invited us into the garden, showed us her greenhouse,
and gathered us some flowers, and we took our leave,
having spent a delightful afternoon.
112 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAinE LANDS.
• "I am afraid I have been more inquisitorial than
good breeding sanctions," I said apologetically ; " but
how can I gain any information unless I ask for it ? "
" I am very glad to have seen you," she replied,
with a cordial hand-shake, " though as a rule I do not
care to receive strangers — so many come with no
introductions and intrude upon our privacy, and ask
us questions, and then circulate false reports about us.
They seem to regard us as zoological curiosities ; quite
forgetting that our homes are as sacred to us as theirs
are to them. We used to be very hospitable," she
added, " but now we receis''e no one unless they are
introduced to us as you have been."
The Mormons are very fond of theatricals and great
patrons of the drama. A good company there is sure
to draw a good audience. The patriarchal days, when
Brigham's large family formed the greater part of
audience and actors too, are past ; they have a commo-
dious theatre, so far as size is concerned, but it is a
square brick barnlike building to look at. The busi-
ness streets are lined with shops, which are amply
stocked with all necessary and some superfluous
articles, but the windows are not what we call
" dressed " to attract the passer-by, but are exhibited
in a higgledy-piggledy sort of fashion ; the owners
sit behind their counters or lounge in the doorways
reading the news, and think nothing of keeping you
waiting while they finish reading a paragraph, and
seem supremely indifferent whether you buy or not.
A spirit of piety inspires their business transactions, a
godly text being placed over the doorway, and some-
times beinir woven into the mat at your feet. Thev
have a large co-operative store in the main street, with
AMONG THE MORMONS.
113
an inscription in large gold letters running along the
top : " Holiness to the Lord." There is very little in
the city that is architecturally worth looking at, with
the exception, perhaps, of the Amelia Palace, which is
a large and very elegant mansion, buili, in the modern
villa style, with a great deal of ornamentation. It is
reported that Brigham Young erected and presented
this beautiful residence to his youngest and prettiest
wife, favouring her so much above the rest ; but this
is indignantly denied by the Saints generally.
" Brigham " (whose name is held in great reverence
among them) " had no favourite," they say. " The
Amelia Palace, so called because she once stayed in it
for a few days, was built expressly for the reception
and entertainment of strangers and visitors of distinc-
tion, and for no other purpose." Unfortunately its
promoter died a short time after its completion, and
it seems to be a bone of contention among the Mor-
mons, and looks as lonely and deserted as though it
had been thrown into chancery. They are also
building a new tabernacle for winter use, which has
been some years in the course of erection, but will
be finished now within a few months. It is built of
white granite hewn from quarries in the State of Utah,
and is being constructed in a highly ornamental and
imposing style ; it is to be used for all general services
during the cold weather, owing to the great difficulty
of warming the larger tabernacle, which stands a few
hundred feet off. This far-famed structure strikes one
as a huge monstrosity, a tumour of bricks and mortar
rising on the face of the earth. It is a perfectly plain
egg-shaped building, studded with heavy entrance
doors all around ; there is not the slightest attempt at
Ill TUROIJUII CITIFOS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
ornamentation of any kind ; it is a mass of ugliness ;
the inside is vast, dreary, and strikes one with a chill,
as though entering a vault ; it is 250 feet long and 80
feet high ; its acoustic properties are wonderful — the
voice of him who occupies the rostrum can be dis-
tinctly heard in the remotest corner of the building.
If you whisper at one end your words are repeated
aloud at the other, without being caught up and
hunted through every crevice by ghostly mocking
echoes. A gallery runs all around, supported by rows
of thin, helpless-looking pillars. The seats in the body
of the building are raised on sloping ground, like the
pit of a theatre, — a wide expanse of em})ty benches,
dreary and depressing to the wandering eye, which
finds no pleasant spot to dwell upon. In the centre
stands a fountain with four plaster-of-Paris lions
couchant^ poor, m; igy-looking beasts at best. From
the white plastered ceiling or dome, being concave
perhaps it may be called so, hangs a gigantic star,
hung round with artificial flowers and evergreen pen-
dants, something like a monstrous jack-in-the-green
turned upside down. The whole interior is gloomy
and dark ; I doubt if people could ever see to read
their prayers. At one end of this huge barnlike
building hangs an immense blue banner emblazoned
with a golden beehive, which flaunts over the heads of
the faithful. At the other end stands an organ, the
largest in the world they say, and it may be so, for it
is certainly immense. They are justly proud of it, for
it is of home manufacture entirely, and was built pre-
cisely where it stands, under the supervision of an
English convert named Ridges, and contains upwards
of a thousand pipes, some of such a circumference you
AMONG THE MORMOXS.
I If)
id
feel as though you could wander up and down them,
and be lost in a world of music. Notwithstanding its
immense size, it has not a single harsh or metallic
sound ; on the contrary, it is marvellously soft-toned ;
from the low flutelike wailing voice of the vox humana
to the deep bass roll which stirs the air like a wave of
melodious thunder, it has all the delicacy of the iRolian
harp, with the strength and power of its thousand
brazen voices. The case is of polished pine of elegant
and simple design. All the wood, metal, and other
material used was brought from the forests or mines of
Utah. Sloping down from the organ towards the
auditorium are semicircular rows of seats, for the elders
and dignitaries of the Church. In the centre is a desk
with a shabby blue sofa behind it ; this was used by
Brigham Young and his two chief councillors. Below
this are the seats for the twelve apostles and for the
choir, and benches where the elders may congregate
to consult together. In front of all this combination
stands a long narrow table, an altar perhaps it may be
called, covered with a red cloth, whereon is arranged a
gorgeous array of silver cups, of all shapes and " sizes,
as though prepared for an unlimited christening party
or an everlasting service libation to some heathen
deity rather than to a Christian God. Passing out
from the tabernacle we glanced at the Endowment
House, where many of their religious ceremonies are
performed, and where, if rumour speaks truly, gross
licentiousness is carried on under the sanction of the
Church — where some ugly secrets and mysteries lie
hidden, of which no one can speak and live. Across
the road stands the president's office, and next
to that the " Beehive House " of Brigham Young
116
THROUGH CITIFS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
notoriety. It is a long, low-roofed, adobe building,
railed in, a desolate-looking place where, in old days,
some dozen of his wives were domiciled ; it is now
occupied by his widows — some of them. A, high
stone wall filled in with adobe incloses the president's
residence and many other buildings, with arched gate-
ways and heavy wooden gates ; there is a double arch-
way leading to some factories and stables, surmounted
by a beehive in the grip of a monstrous eagle — an
illustration of the Mormon faith in the cruel clutch of
the Stars and Stripes. Close by is the school-house,
first erected for the sole education of Brigham Young's
family, which was large enough to fill it ; it is now
devoted to the benefit of the masses. The whole of
these buildings are crowded together, and are generally
surrounded by a high wall, which gives them a gloomy
appearance, suggestive of an Eastern harem. There
is, however, a wide diflTerence between the Moham-
medan and the Mormon — the two polygamic nations.
Whereas the former keep their women in a state of
slavery, idleness, and ignorance, the Mormons give
their women every possible advantage of education,
and permit, nay encourage, them to take their part in
the world's work and in the management of affairs
generally.
The Mormon marriage- vow reads " for time and
eternity ! " There are, however, forms of matrimony
" for time " and " for eternity " alone, and the one
may be contracted independently of the other. Thus,
a man may, and frequently does, marry a widow " for
time," under the obligation to hand her back to her
deceased lord " for eternity." A woman may, by
gracious permission of the head of the Church, seal
AMONG TlIK MORMOXS.
117
herself in " celestial marriage " to any deceased saint
she may elect to honour with her preference. Also,
a marriage may be arranged by the living for the
dead. I heard of a case wherein a widow, anxious
lest her lord should feel lonely in the celestial spheres,
shortly after her bereavement hastened to the Endow-
ment House to seal to the beloved lost, not one, but
two dear friends of hers. I inquired whether the two
brides would not consider it a wasteful proceeding to
bestow themselves on the dead ? " Oh no," answered
my informant gravely, " of course they were dead too."
This presented rather a ludicrous picture to my
mind's eye ; there is evidently no escape for the
Mormon from the evils of this world, even though he
flies into the next, where good Christians hope to find
peace. I imagined the seraph's surprise, perhaps dis-
may, at finding two cherubs in full chase accredited
claimants to his eternal affections, whether he would
or not.
We paid a visit to President Taylor at his office,
with an arriere pensee that he might present us to his
wives, but he did not. He received us most- cour-
teously, and we spent a pleasant half-hour in the ex-
change of polite nothings ; he pointed out to us the
portraits of the brothers Smith, the founders of their
faith, which hung upon the walls, but when we tried
to bring about a discussion upon the Mormon faith, or
the working of that faith upon the Mormon people, we
ignominiously failed. He is a remarkably fine-looking
man, about seventy, with a rather large loose mouth
and cunning gray eyes, which look as though they
would never let you see what was going on behind
them.
118 TimOUCJlI CITIKS AND PRAIlUr-: r,AM)S.
In the old (liiys before the ruilway reached them,
when the city was first settled, indeed for long after-
wards, there was no money in circulation, and the
Mormons lived on a general exchange system. A
facetious record of the time says ; " A farmer wishes
for a pair of shoes, gives a load of wood in exchange,
and is straightway shod ; he gives a calf for a pair of
pantaloons ; seven water-melons are paid for admission
to the theatre. One man paid seventy-five cabbage per
quarter for the teaching of his children. The dress-
maker received for her services four squashes per day.
The Church dues were settled in molasses. Two loads
of pumpkins paid a subscription to the newspai)er. A
treatise on Celestial Marriage was bought for a load
of gravel. And the cost of a bottle of soothing syrup
for the baby was a bushel of string beans."
All this is changed now ; there is plenty of gold
and silver in circulation, and the general exchange
system, once universal, is now dead.
The matter of marriage is very simply conducted ;
if a man desires to make an addition to his family in
the shape of a wife, he makes such desire known to the
president of his Church with whose permission he pro-
poses to her, she of course, as in all Christian countries,
having the right to refuse or accept him. On the
other hand, if a lady has any predilection for a certain
gentleman, she is encouraged to make her preference
known to him, her tender feeling being considered as
a prompting of nature which ought to be obeyed.
We were anxious to hear the holding forth at the
Tabernacle on Sunday morning, and went early to
secure good seats. Slowly the auditorium, galleries
and all, filled to overflowing, with a motley set of
AMONG rilK MOILMONS.
119
people, who seemed to set worldly fasliioii ;it defiance.
There were some elderly heads in corkscrew curls and
poke bonnets, trimmed with sad-coloured ribbons or
faded flowers ; some of the coal-scuttle celebrity pro-
jecting till you only j^ot a telescopic view of the faded
face within it. As a rule they wore short scanty
skirts and old-fashioned kerchiefs or shawls pinned
across their breasts. Such a collection of antiquated
millinery and quaint combination of colours it would
have been difficult to find elsewhere. Here and there
a pretty young ftice bloomed from an artistic arrange-
ment of lace and flowers, as though the hand of a
French milliner had dropped it from the skies. An
occasional parody on the famous Devonshire hat
loomed upon our sight. One or two were got up like
fashion plates direct from press. It was a strange
combination of the Old World and the New. Man-
hood was represented in a similar fashion. Some in
top-boots, frieze jackets, and stubble head of hair, with
gay-coloured bandannas round their throats. Others
in misfitting suits hanging loosely on their ungainly
limbs. There was a sprinkling of dandyism among
them in frockcoats and flowers in their button-holes ;
but broadcloth and fine linen generally occupied seats
near the organ, and were grouped around where the
elders and priesthood were seated in great solemnity.
I was sorry to learn there was to be no general
service on this Sabbath morning; four of the elders
had just returned from Europe, and were to stand forth
and give an account of themselves to the community.
The service (for so I must call it for want of a
better word) commenced with a prayer, which seemed
rather to carry an assurance of their own worthiness
120 TITROUGII CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
to the throne of grace than a supplication for its
mercy ; thon the organ poured forth its volume of rich
sounds, and the voices of the thousands present united
in a grand old hymn, glorious to hear. That ended,
a young elder, clean shaven and in funereal black, stood
up in the rostrum, in front of the table, and held
forth : " He had travelled under the guidance of a
special providence " (he spoke as though it were a
special train), " and claimed the thanks of the multi-
tude for his safe return." Then commenced a tirade of
self-glorification ; not a word of supplication, of prayer,
or praise fell from his lips ; his moral attitude was one
of exultant vanity, as though they had absorbed all
piety, all virtue, and left not a grain for the hungry
world outside. He talked a mass of irreverent twaddle,
as though he were in the secrets of the Almighty
Ruler of men ; he communicated to those present the
private information which he had received direct from
heaven, " that that modern Babylon, that most foul and
evil city of Great Britain, whence he had just returned,
should be destroyed by the fire of God's wrath ! Not
one would be saved, not otio, except those few brands
which he had plucked from • -e burning " (those brands
being represented by an awkward squad of ignorant
humanity, who looked as if they had marched in
the rear of civilization, and been covered with the
dust from its trampling feet ; indeed, they seem to
have gathered together the scum of all nations to be
cleansed and purified by the process of their patent
piety !). He wound up his edifying discourse with the
surance " that they, and they only, the saints of the
modern Zion, who were gathered in that sacred vallev,
could be saved ! While flames of fury were licking
AMONG THE MOIIMONS.
121
up the rest of the world, they would be in glory sing-
ing from harps of gold ; " indeed, he dealt out death
and damnation to all the rest of the world, but grasped
salvation as their special right. This assurance seemed
to give general satisfaction, for the poor withered faces
round me lighted up with a frenzied faith and re-
joicing in their own election.
There was little more to be done in Salt Lake, only
the springs to be visited, and they are neither of them
a great distance from the city. The sulphur springs
are about a mile from our hotel, the Walker House,
and can be reached by horse cars by those who dislike
walking. At these springs there are baths of all
description, Turkish, Kussian, hot-air, etc., beside the
natural baths, which are lukewarm, and being of a
sulphurous nature are very penetrating and delight-
fully refreshing, providing ^on do not stay in too
long. The hot springs are the greatest wonder in the
city ; there is a small alcove in the limestone rocks,
even with the surface of the ground ; the water steams
and bubbles up boiling hot, with a temperature of
200° ! Eggs can be cooked therein ready for taWe in
three minutes. Close by, beyond the green meadows,
is a beautiful sheet of water called " Hot Springs
Lake," which is supposed to be fed by other hot
springs beneath the surface ; and strange to say, in
spite of the temperature of the water, some excellent
fish are to be found there.
Having conscientiously done our duty, so far as
sight-seeing was concerned, we bid adieu to Salt Lake
City, the great social problem of to-day.
122 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTEE XII.
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
Ogden Station — Bustling Bedtime — Boots — An Invasion — A
Wedding Aboard — The American Desert — The Glorious
Sierras — Cape Horn — Dutch Flats — " Here they are " — A
Phantom City.
The sun is setting. The skies, so beautifully blue an
hour ago, are changed by some celestial alchemy to
realms of gold. Pale sea-green banners float faintly
hither and thither. For a moment we seem to get
a glimpse of heaven " through its gates of gold.'*
Slowly the pale yellow changes to a rich red hue, with
a rapid mingling of amethyst and royal purple, like
the jewelled mantle of some invisible king, with
feathery plumes flying, and trains of brilliant cloudlets
hurrying across the face of the heavens, as though
some gorgeous festival was being held on high. Then
the gray sombre clouds come gathering together, like
heavy household troops at the close of a grand pro-
cession, and the brilliant scene is over. There is no
long dreamy twilight in these regions. The sun does
not " slowly sink to rest." It drops down in a blink-
ing, lazy sort of way, as though it was tired of shining
so long in one place. Its fleecy flock of clouds sur-
round it. We have scarcely time to behold its glory ;
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
123
even as we exclaim, " What a gorgeous sunset ! " the
gates of heaven are closed, and it is night, though a
scattered colony of soft gray shadows still linger
among the mountains.
We are at Ogden Station, waiting to resume our
journey westward. The engine snorts, and spits, and
whistles, and clanks its iron harness, in a hurry to be
off. Lights are flashing hither and thither. The
nervous man, hot, dusty, and with an agonized face,
rushes after his baggage. He icill keep an eye on it ;
he cannot be persuaded that the baggage-master's
certificate is surety for its safet};. He watches it
swallowed up in the van, then with a sigh of relief
returns, to begin a fresh hurry and worry about some-
thing else. We feel ourselves quite old, experienced
travellers by this time, and have learned to take things
easily. Our nervous friend cannot even eat his supper
in peace ; he rushes out between every mouthful to
make sure he is not left behind. Presently the con-
ductor's well-known call, " All aboard, all aboard,"
greets our ears, and we leisurely walk out upon the
platform. There stands the lonj*; line of " silver palace
cars." (Query : Why "silver,'" wlien they are painted
bright yellow ? ) We have left the rich, brown, sombre-
hued Pullman cars of the Union Pacific, and are now
about to resume our journey on the " Central Pacific,"
in cars of gold. An obliging official stands at the
entrance of every carriage, and shows you to your
special section, as courteously as you would be shown
into the reception-room of a friend. The engine bell,
which sounds to us like the voice of a friend, sends
forth its monotonous " cling clang, cling clang," its
brazen clangour grows faint and fainter, and is still.
124 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
With a final rattle and a shriek we plunge into
the night, the sparks, like fiery comets, flying from
its smoky throat. We strain our eyes for a parting
glance at the Wahsatch Mountains, glorious in their
grand loveliness, and at the marvellous canons and
gorges which v/e know are yawning and opening their
mysterious depths on either side of us. But they are
wrapped in a weird shadowy twilight ; we can only
see their dim outline, and are left to imagine their
darker depths as we fly past them. The thin crescent
crown of the baby moon was visible a while ago, but
it has gone now, and the stars come out — celestial
shepherds keeping watch over their fleecy flocks on
high. We know we are rushing along by the Ashless
waters of the green salt lake, but we look out upon
a world of darkness ; we shall see nothing till the
morning, so turn our thoughts bedward.
Our car is still in a state of commotion, some people
are so long settling down. There is a wiry-looking
elderly lady in corkscrew curls, who seems as restless
and lively as a summer flea. She bounces from one
side of her section to the other, rummaging her satchel,
then her valise, for something she can't find, fishes a
vinaigrette from her lunch-basket, and with a grunt of
satisfaction sits sniffing at it for a while ; then hops up
as though she had been suddenly pierced with needles,
and begins setting things tidy. Her section overflows
with tiny packages of all shapes and sizes. They will
fall off" the seat and roll into somebody else's section ;
she scrambles and dives after them, shaking and
patting her property as though she had just rescued a
rat from drowning. She is always losing something,
and shaking herself to find it. Then came a general
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
125
stir, the letting down of berths and making of beds.
The gentlemen retired to the smoking-room during the
preparations for retiring. One by one the ladies
disappear behind their curtains. Our restless friend
vanishes into her berth with a bounce ; her curtains
bulge and flutter ; at last, with a series of moans and
mutterings she is still, but not silent, even in her sleep.
The gentlemen return with a creaking of boots and
banging of doors. One by one they too disappear.
One who is " fat and scant of breath " laboriously
climbs into his berth and rolls into it like a worn-out
hippopotamus ; another climbs up with the agility of a
cat; a third swings himself up as though he were
performing an acrobatic exercise, then a pair of
pantaloons dangle for a moment in the air and ar'^
suddenly drawn up by their owner, and all is peace.
There is nothing left of mankind but his boots, stand-
ing in solemn array along the floor. Any one with an
eye for character might have gained some knowledge
from a study of these " boots." The spirit of their
numerous owners seemed to cling to the uppers or
linger about the soles. Here was a pair of spick and
span patent leathers, suggestive of spotless linen and
irreproachable character, with not a thought beyond*
etiquette and broadcloth. Others had a careless
philosophical look, with uncompromising soles, tough
uppers, with little or no attempt at shining, slightly
worn down at the heels, and turned up at the toes.
Some bulged out in suspicious places. Some looked as
if they had tramped the world through ; others as
though they had trod on velvet.
We slept soundly, lulled by the monotonous swing
of the cars, till about three o'clock in the morning,
126 THROUGH cities and prairie lands.
when there was a slight stir in our ear, a gruff
rumbh'ng of masculine voices. The young lady in
the opposite section was roused from her slumbers.
" Get up, miss, please," said the conductor ; " a
gentleman has just boarded the train and wants to
speak to you."
" It is I, Agnes," said a manly voice ; " make haste
and dress yourself." There was a rustle and flutter
behind the curtains.
" What is the matter ? Is there anything wrong ? "
said the girl's voice in some alarm.
" Oh no ; I rather think everything is pretty con-
siderably right," was the assuring answer. " Be quick,
there's a dear girl."
She made a hasty toilette, and the pair went out
upon the platform to discuss their plans. A whisper flew
round with the daylight that there was to be a wedding
at the place where we were to stop for breakfast. This
startling intelligence created a general interest. There
was a whispering and a wondering of the why and the
wherefore of this strange proceeding. The lovers
were too much occupied with one another to make any
communication even had they been disposed to do so.
The lady was coy ; she hesitated. The idea of a
wedding without orange blossoms, bridesmaids, or
even a slice of wedding cake ! But the bridegroom
elect sternly whispered : " Now or never." From the
brief scraps of conversation which fell to our ears we
gathered the simple fact that the engagement was a
clandestine one, and was disapproved of by their
mutual friends, who were awaiting the arrival of the
lady at " Sacramento." Once under their influence
they would contrive to break it oft', and put an end to
.:ilti
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
127
it. The gentleman got an inkling of this, and prepared
to frustrate their diabolical purpose. He had travelled
with all speed to , secured the services of the
judge, and left him waiting there while he came on
to meet and prepare the lady. While we were quietly
taking our coffee and eggs those two were made one.
A great deal of handshaking and good wishes passed
round.
" All aboard, all aboard," came the familiar cry.
The newly married couple were driven oif in an old
ramshackle chaise, the best the place afforded, in the
direction of the Black Hills. We had no old shoes to
throw after them "for luck," but somebody routed out
a baby's worsted sock and flung it straight into the
bride's lap, and they drove off amid chatter and laughter
and a world of good wishes.
We wake up in the morning and find ourselves
speeding along the great American desert, a wide
expanse of desolation covered with tiny gray-green
buffalo grass, only there are no buffaloes now to eat it.
It is devoured by meaner animals. Looking through
our glasses, we see what looks like an army of animated
ant-hills. We are told thev are immense herds of
cattle, thousands strong, who are sent up there to get
their own living some months of the year, and then
descend to the valleys as fat as butter, a mine of wealth
to their owners. The earth is slightly covered with
snow, and looks as though it had been sprinkled with
salt and put in pickle. All is blank and bare ; there
are no more architectural wonders of the great un-
known, no more ruined castles and towers standing
solemnly in the silent air. Plour after hour the earth
flies beneath the hoofs of our iron horse. We are not
128 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
sorry when the night comes and shuts this desolation
from our sight, for the day has been a long and a
dreary one, and we retire early to rest.
We go to sleep in the dismal, snow-covered heights
of Nevada, and wake in the glorious, pine-clad forests
among the foot-hills of the grand Sierras, having
passed their summit during the night. There is no
more glorious sight in the whole wide world than this
which now opens upon our view. We hold our breath,
awe-struck and wondering, as we swing round the
shoulder of the mountain and plunge down its rugged
sides. We feel as though we were rushing through
the air. There is nothing but this narrow trestle
between us and the boiling caldron a hundred feet
below. We lift our heads and look up at the
wonderfully wooded heights, where the pointed pines
seem to prick the skies, and down to the deep valleys
below, winding through sunless gorges till they are
lost in narrow canons where the foot of man has never
ventured yet, and where the grizzly still finds his home
undisturbed. All the picturesque beauty and solemn
grandeur of the wide world seems to be gathered
together here in this noble range of the Sierra Nevadas,
covered with all the luxuriance of summer's divinest
bloom— a kind of spiritual sunshine, falling straight
from heaven on lake and river, gorge and canon,
covering and glorifying all. A beautiful purple mist
lies in a dreamy softness everywhere. We dash round
sudden curves and up grade and down grade, new and
picturesque beauties opening on all sides of us. There
is a general stir. " We are nearing Cape Horn," cries
somebody, and in another moment we are speeding
round a sharp curve, rushing along the face of the
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
129
d
d
•e
mountain, clinging to the narrow ledge of rock. Our
engine itself seerns dizzy as it swings us round with a
shriek and a rattle, looking down two thousand feet
upon the boiling river below. Soon the scene grows
more magnificent still, the views more vast and
extensive ; the wonderful chasms are frightful to
behold ; the mountains open into wide galleries of
rocks and boulders, stretching out and upward till
they are lost in a world of pines and peaks of ice and
snow. All the Kohinoors that were ever dug out of
the bosom of the earth are poor and pale before these
diamond peaks now flashing in the sunlight. We
would like to stop the train, and get out and wander
up into these forest mountains and down into the glens,
and dabble in the sparkling waters, so pure and bright
they might be flowing direct from the throne of the
Almighty God, but we are, perforce, carried on. We
pass the mining districts of Dutch Flats, where
hydraulic operations were once extensively carried on,
and have broken up and ravaged the country round,
damaged its fair face in the greed for gold, and left
but bare and ragged mountain-sides, whose gaping
wounds are slowly healing and are being gradually
covered by nature's tender green. We can still trace
where the immense body of water has been hurled
against the mountain and torn down hundreds of tons
of earth and stone, and sand and gold, which were all
flung down and caught in a series of iron sieves or
gratings, some charged with quicksilver to attract the
smaller grains of gold which escaped the sifting
process.
This part of the scenery is interesting from its
association with the old, dead days, when the solitude
130 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
rang with the rush and din of thousands, all hurrying
and jostling one another in their search for gold.
The tumble-down ruins of the miners' huts are still
clinging to the edge of the water or at the foot of
the broken mountain, like a weird memory lingering
in the haunts of old.
We sat silent now, enjoying the genial air. On
our first view of these glorious Sierras we had run the
gamut of our unbounded and rapturous delight ; we
had pointed out our phrases with big notes of mental
admiration ; we wanted a new coinage of words before
we could express ourselves. We had grown tired of
the old phrases, — for the time, at least, — so we sat in
silence, letting our eyes rest and our th jughts revel on
the scenes we were passing through.
Presently our engine-bell began its monotonous
" cling clang," and we steamed into the station of
Sacramento ; and there, on a table running along the
whole length of the platform, an excellent lunch was
served. Tea and coffee, chicken-salad, ham and eggs,
and no end of fruits and flowers, were most temptingly
laid out ; and here we gained our first glimpse of the
moon-faced, almond-eyed Chinese officiating as waiters
— clean, quick, and obliging. Having supplied our-
selves with all we required, we asked of our attentive
Celestial —
" How much to pay ? "
" Two bittee," he answered, smiling.
I inquired again, emphasizing my words. The
same answer, with an additional grin. Then, speak-
ing slowly, sc , jrely, in a louder tone, looking sternly
in his face, I repeated, pausing between each word —
" I — want — to — pay."
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
131
le
" Two lii'ttoe," ho answered, ^rinninf]^ from ear to
ear, and looking- so pleased with himself that I felt
inclined to laugh too.
"Twenty-five cents," explained a gentleman at my
elbow. " They count in bits here, and two bits is
twenty-five cents."
By this time I had noticed two gentlemen and a
lady searching eagerly among the passengers, evi-
dently for somebody they conld not find. Having
scanned all the faces assembled on the platform, they
wandered from one end of the empty cars to the other.
Then held a brief consultation together.
" So very strange," I heard one say. " She cer-
tainly started from Chicago. We'd better telegraph."
I fancy they are searching for the bride. They will
search long before they find her. She is far away, up
in the Black Hills by this time. But nobody attempts
to put the clue in the hands of the seekers.
After a stop of twenty minutes we resumed our way
in very jubilant spirits. We knew we were nearing
our journey's end. We passed through the beautiful
Valley of Sacramento, all abloom with fruits and
flowers and aglow with the glorious sunshine. We
took in every feature of the landscape, though we were
watching eagerly the while, and looking forward to
the first glimpse of the Golden City. We gathered
our things together, then commenced to smarten our-
selves up to make a decent appearance in the face
of the New World. In another hour we shall be
there. We make a few minutes' halt at San Pablo,
and are just putting a few finishing touches to our
toilette, when " Here they are ! " cries a familiar
voice. We look up, and there is the well-known
132
THROUGH CITIES ANi) PRAIRIE LANDS.
face of an old friend, come out from the strange
world to greet us. And how glad we are to be so
gi'eeted ! There is a good deal of laughter, an ex-
change of gossip from the Old World to the New.
We speed through the streets of Oakland, our bell
*' ding-donging " to warn people out of our way.
There are shops and houses on either side ; people are
flocking to and fro on the sidewalks, buying and sell-
ing, some lounging lazily, gossiping over the garden
gates among the tall hollyhocks and big tuberose
trees. They glance indifferently at us as we rush
along, as though it was quite a common thing for
people to come three thousand miles over desert and
mountain to visit their wonderland. We pull up at
Oakland Ferry, having been for the last ten minutes
skimming over the face of the water on an invisible
trestlework. Here again, familiar faces, with their
hands full of flowers and their hearts with welcome,
were there to meet us and escort us across tVie bay in
loyal numbers. It is eight miles across the bay to
San Francisco, and the ferry-boats are like floating
palaces, with velvet lounges, gorgeous in carving and
gilding, with a painted ceiling, giving views of the
surrounding neighbourhood, and mirrors on all sides,
reflecting and multiplying you in such numbers that
you cannot get away from yourself. You come face
to face with your own ghost whichever way you turn.
The sea-breeze coming to us, salt laden, through the
Golden Gate, is delicious, and stirs our blood, and
sends it leaping madly through our veins. Sister
boats pass and repass us on the way, and more im-
portant vessels, with the Stars and Stripes or flags of
many nations fluttering from their mastheads, are
ACROSS THE SIERRAS.
133
gathered in crowds in tlie beautiful bay, and, as they
are riding at anchor, dip and courtesy as we pass.
Tiiousands of shrieking sea-gulls swoop down, throw
up their heads, and, di[)ping their white breasts in the
water, float upon its surftxce as proudly and almost as
gracefully as baby swans. We all crowd up to the
bow of the vessel. In vain our friends point out the
different rocks and islands which stud the bay, and
the long, curving line of the distant shore. We have
no eyes, no thought for anything but San Francisco.
That is our Mecca — the shrine whereon we are pre-
pared to lay our heart's devotion.
The sun is setting, and the whole of the Western
hemisphere is draped with crimson clouds slashed with
flames of purple light, and, slowly looming from their
midst, the Golden City breaks upon our sight. We
cannot distinctly distinguish a single feature. The
palace-houses which crown the hill-top, church steeples
and spires, are all hidden and shrouded in purple mist,
which rolls down the steep streets, spreads everywhere,
and covers everything with a soft, sweet mystery, and
we only see, or seem to see, a wide, extensive range
of buttressed, battlemented castles — a ruined castellated
world. And so we catch our first view of San Fran-
cisco, like a phantom city lying in the arms of the
sunset.
134 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE GOLDEN CITY.
The Streets — Kaleidoscopic Scenes —The S^ock Boai-cls — Wild Cat
I — Bulls and Bears — The ^iarkets — The "Dummy" — Lone
:^| I Mountain.
We pass tlirougli a deafening; crowd of hackmen, who
are ranged on either side of the landing-stage, and a
posse of hotel porters, each in a monotonous sing-song
calling the name of his hotel. To all insinuating invi-
tations we sternly answer " Occidental," and are allowed
to pass without further let or hindrance. AVe find oar
comfortahle hotel coach waiting, and jolt and rumble
through the stony Market Street. We see nothing but
throngs of people, flaring gas-jets, and lighted shop-
windows, and in a few minutes are deposited at the
door of the Occidental, a strange sound to us then,
but soon to become fiimiliar as a household word.
A cosy suite of rooms had been prepared for us, and
here again friendly hands had filled our room with
flowers, giving us a most sweet floral welcome to
California.
On this, our very first evening in San Francisco,
friends we have not seen for years come rallying
round us; their bright, familiar faces and pleasant
voices ringing out a kindly welcome, bring back a
THE GOLDEN CITY.
135
glimpse of the old land and the old scenes wherein we
had all played our part in the dear long ago. For a
moment I only see their faces through a mist, but the
mist is in my own eyes. Everybody is anxious to
come to the fore and escort us on our first tour round
their Golden City.
The next morning early we sallied forth to get our
nrst general view of San Francisco, as we like to
familiarize ourselves with the face of a friend before
we criticise his features or attempt to discuss his
character. Our hotel is situated in — or, as we may
say here, on — Montgomery Street, one of the busiest
portions of the city. There are some notably hand-
some jeweller's and other shops ; but by far the
greater number, both there and on the lower part of
California Street, are public notaries, bill-brokers, stock-
brokers, attorneys, and mining agents ; in fact, every
facility for financial ruin yawns on all sides of you.
There is a tempting restaurant sandwiched in here
and there, or you may descend into a kind of cellar
and take your refreshments comfortably underground.
There are, besides, numerous barbers' shops, as no
American, East or West, will shave an inch of his own
chin ; and open spaces where gentlemen lounge on
velvet chairs and read the news while their boots are
having " a shine for five cents," for here, as in other
parts of America, you must clean your own boots and
shoes or go out and have a public " sliine for five
cents." The shoeblack's being a strictl}^ outdoor
industry, forms no part of anybody's domestic duty.
There is a general rush and flow of mankind
through this busy street, the Exchange being situated
hereon. The moment its doors are open everybody seems
136
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
I:-
to be flocking up or hurrying down the steps. There
is an endless stir and passing to and fro. They gather
in crowds upon the sidewalks, swarm at the street
corners, and surge into the roadways. Curbstone
brokers, the ragged fringe of the stockboards, lie in
wait everywhere, like spiders, waiting to catch some
silly, inexperienced fly in their financial web of fine
promises. There are men of all kinds and all nations,
a kaleidoscopic company of Jews and Christians,
Orientals of divers degrees, even South Sea Islanders
washed up from the shores of the Pacific, the grim-
visaged Tartar chief, and .'l/reigners from all parts of
the civilized world make up the incongruous gathering,
all babbling together, creating a very Babel and con-
fusion of tongues. You may hear men grumble in
guttural German ; swear in high Dutch ; insinuate in
soft, mellifluous Italian or musical Greek ; and, indeed,
bargain, wrangle, and chat in every language under
the sun. The sjDirit of speculation is in the air; its
subtle influence stirs the very centre of life ; ever} body
speculates ; everybody has " something in stocks ; " the
poorest servant-girl, the haYd-working mechanic, with
the rest of the labouring population, invest their little
all in stocks. You may see their eager faces crowding
round the windows where the rise and fall in stocks is
exhibited every hour. Millions of dollars are floating
about in investments in worthless mines, which will
never yield an ounce of gold. Well, the stocks are up
to-day, down to-morrow ; the fever is in the blood of
the people ; they will drain their pockets, sell their
clothes off their back, the home that shelters them, the
very land they live by, all in the race for wealth. So
long as they have a cent or " wild cat " is to be got in
THE GOLDEN CITY.
137
the market, they'll have it. Well, somebody grows
rich. Somebody rides on the great third wave, though
thousands sink beneath it and are lost.
I, like the rest of the world, fell into the gilded
snare, and with one of my too confiding friends, was
induced to take a hand at this game of speculation.
Silently and secretly we matrons laid our plans,
letting not our right hand know what our left was
doing. We had reason to believe that a certain mine
would disgorge heaps of gold within the next two
weeks ; shares were low at the present time, but as
soon as gold came to the surface, they would double,
treble, nay quadruple, in a single day — perhaps rise
from five to a hundred dollars per share ! In a frenzy
of gold fever we rushed off to a stockbroker's office,
and invested all our ready cash, even to our last
dollar, in that promising stock. We turned our faces
homeward, beggars in the present, millionaires in the
future. We seemed to tread on air, and sent our
thoughts fl^'ing through the realms of imagination,
building castles in the air, and making glorious plans
for the future ; we felt as though we already held that
El Dorado in our pockets, and disposed of it, each in
our own ftishion. My friend chose a lovely spot, over-
looking the bay, and the green hills beyond, and
announced her intention of building a house there, and
presenting it to her liege lord on the next anniversary
of their wedding day ; she decided on the kind of wall-
paper, the particular dado, and even on the style of
furniture, which was to be selected on purely Art
principles. My ideas were equally magnificent, though
my plans were more indefinite, and certainly did not
run in the house-building line. For two weeks the one
WW
li
138
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
golden idea possessed our minds ; every morning we
watched eagerly for news. At last it came. The
miners had reached the expected spot, and struck — not
gold, but water ! Our hopes were washed away, our
expectations drowned in a sea of repentance.
But this is a digression. To return to our first
day's experience. While we were jostling our way
through the bustling streets of San Francisco's busi-
ness quarter, staring on all sides with all our eyes,
and, like Chowder, seeming " to want another pair,"
some one of our party proposed a visit to the Stock
Boards, it being just about the time when the financial
hounds would be in full cry, and the " bulls '' nd
" bears " tossing and tumbling among the stocks, send-
ing them up or pulling them C wn in the wildest
fashion. To " bull " is to senc up the stocks ; to
" bear " is to pull them down.
lYe were ushered into a gallery overlooking the
scene of operations ; directly in front of us was a plat-
form ; two or three men were writing at different
tables, and, at one in the centre of the platform, stood
a stout, stolid-looking individual with a small bell
beside him ; below, seated in circular rows rising from
the floor of the building, were the shareholders in the
different mines, watching, with anxious faces, the
financial fight. In the railed-in centre, which was
something like the old gladiatorial arena, the stock-
brokers themselves held the floor. There was a
momentary lull as we entered ; it was the close of the
first session. Every face was turned towards the plat-
form, waiting till the sphinx should speak. A few
hurriedly uttered words from the stolid individual
above alluded to — and siich a commotion ! A deafening
THE GOLDEN CITY.
139
he
he
as
k-
a
he
it-
lal
roar of voices, pitched in a hundred different keys,
clattering and clanging one against the other ! A sea
of excited faces, eyes flashing, arms tossing wildly,
fingers flung out and snapping in each other's faces,
a struggle, a rush, a swaying to and fro of the crowd,
which seemed wedged into a solid mass ! It seemed
as though a sudden, go-as-you-please free fight was
going on. AYe fancied they never could emerge whole
from tlie conflict ; their clothes must be torn from
their hacks, their limbs from their sockets. One stroke
on the bell, and, as though by a magic touch, all is
still — all silent. In that few minutes' commotion
fortunes have been lost and won.
The clerk, in a monotonous, sing-song tone and
rapid utterance, goes over the amount of business
transacted. Strange it seemed to us, that out of that
" confusion worse confounded," that tangled skein of
words and babel of sounds, he extracted the clear
argument, drew out each particular thread, and re-
iterated the quotations of stocks and by whom they
had been bought or sold, never in a single instance
makincr a mistake. Through all that din and confusion
of tongues it had been plain sailing to him. The
" bulls " had it to-day, the " bears " would have their
turn to-morrow. So the world goes round.
Next we strolled up Kearney, the Bond or Regent
Street of San Francisco. It is a very handsome street
in the most fashionable quarter of the town, with
elegant, tastefully arranged shops on either side. It is
quite the fashionable promenade on Saturday after-
noons. All the elite of the city, elegantly dressed
women (the San Francisco ladies do dress elegantly,
though sometimes with a daring combination of colours
140
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
that are somewhat disconcerting to the aesthetic taste),
and men in broadcloth and beaver, turn out like
soldiers on parade, and lounge up and down. Friends
and acquaintances congregate together and hold their
receptions on Kearney Street. It is quite a kaleid-
oscopic scene of bright dresses and pretty, smiling
faces. The dusty business men, in their cutaway coats
and slouch hats, keep to their own quarters in Mont-
gomery Street, hard by, and seldom venture to intrude
on dainty Kearney Street. But, alas ! there is a blot
on this bright picture. There are sundry open alcoves,
cigar and tobacco stores, pretty and pleasant enough to
look at, for they are gay with gilding and mirrors and
bright with flowers, but there is generally a crowd of
the tobacco-chewing population congregated here, and
the sidewalk is in such a disgusting condition from
this chewing and smoking that it is impossible for
a lady to pass without gathering up her skirts, and
even then she runs the risk of having a quid squirted
over her as she passes along. All over America,
more or less, this evil habit obtains, and every-
where with the same revolting effect. It is, how-
ever, much worse in the Western cities than in the
Eastern States. In New York, especially, they seem to
be awakening to the error of their way, and expectorate
less frequently in the presence of ladies. It is even
possible to ride for an hour in a car without being
disgusted once. But here in the West the vice rides
rampant. It is impossible to escape from it. In the
streets, in the cars, on the railway trains — it follows
you everywhere, wherever men (I was going to say
gentlemen, and some are so as far as the tailor can
make them) are travelling to and fro. This state of
THE GOLDEN CITY.
141
things would not be allowed in any other city in the
civilized world, and it might be easily remedied if the
authorities would take the matter in hand as they do
in the case of other nuisances, which may be more
serious, but are far less disgusting. On all the ferry-
boats there is a placard : "Gentlemen are requested not
to spit about the deck ; it is used by ladies." And they
don't. The floor of the deck is as clean as a drawing-
room. Why should not the same rule hold elsewhere ?
We stroll through the markets, and wonder where
the mountains of fruit and beautiful flowers have come
from, and where they are going to. Such heaps of
luscious peaches, plums, and nectarines, bushels of rich,
ripe strawberries, raspberries, blue and green grapes,
melons, and oranges, and red and gold bananas, and
vegetables of every possible description in tons and
scores of tons piled on all sides. Nothing wilted or
stale ; all fresh, and crisp, and green. Every thing-
is in such royal profusion it seems as though nature
had opened her heart and showered her best and
fairest flowers throughout this Grolden State. Pro-
visions of every kind are to be found in these markets,
of which there are several, and all in populous places,
easy of access. Dairy farmers send their golden butter,
plump chickens, and boxes of white, fresh eggs ; and
long-legged fowls, prairie hens, and a whole tribe of
feathered favourites liang like malefactors suspended
overhead ; and dainty white pigs, with lemons in their
mouths, tails curled up and tied with pink ribbons,
and pigs that had outgrown the lemon period, and
were waiting to be turned to bacon, and silver trout
and salmon, — such rich, luscious-looking salmon, —
with their scaly armour glittering in the light, and
142 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
big-whiskered lobsters, prawns, and crawling crabs, all
opening their formidable mouths and stirring their hun-
dred feelers in protest against their unnatural usage.
Every crustaceous delicacy the sea affords is there, all
ready to tempt the appetite of omnivorous man. Every-
thing was refreshing and pleasant to the eye, and so
artistically arranged that we looked round on a perfect
mosaic of beauty, a kind of poem, not made up of
similes, rhymes, and rhythms, but of fruits and flowers.
The streets of San Francisco are a wonder and a
marvel. On every side there is an ever-changing,
animated scene, unenlivened by organ-grinders, dancing
dogs, or Punch and Judys. The industrious fleas or
the intelligent canaries are all equally unknown here.
The attraction of the streets is entirely due to the
polyglot gatherings of people from all lands, and the
variegated tide is eternally flowing to and fro.
Strange vehicles of all indescribable descriptions are
dashing about the up-and-down stony streets at a
breakneck pace. Clattering milk carts, travelling soda
fountains, brewers' drays, sociable rockaways, and
solitary " sulkies," their owners perched up between
the spidery wheels, seemingly seated on nothing, are
all rushing along pell-mell, helter-skelter. The streets
are a perfect network of rails, and huge red cars, blue
cars, and yellow cars, with their jingling bells, cross
and recross at every turn. We look out for a collision,
but none comes, and we elbow our way on. We are
jostled on one side by a Polish Israelite, in whom there
" is no guile," with a long beard and high peaked hat.
A moon-faced Mexican, with long hair, golden earrings,
and red serape, walks in his shadow. A slipshod
woman, in a grimy, Oriental dress, flits past and dis-
THE GOLDEN' CITY.
143
all
a
appears In a dark alley. A South Sea islander, a New
Zealand cliief, and a Mongolian mercliant catch our
eyes among the surging mass of European faces, and
the hlue-bloused, pig-tailed Chinaman, with his gliding,
silent tread, swarms everywhere. He is always busy,
always at work, carrying such weights as would set a
donkey staggering. He has a long, hickory pole across
one shoulder, and balancing at either end are huge,
round baskets filled with goods of all descriptions,
enough to fill a waggon, but John carries the weight
easily enough. At the corner of California Street we
come to a dead stop. There stands a kind of double
vehicle, the foremost part being open, with a canopied
top, seats running all round, and a man in the middle
keeping solemn guard over a huge lever or crank. On
the benches on either side were seated some half-dozen
people, facing outwards, their feet dangling or resting
on a narrow plank at their pleasure. We took our
places on the front seat, faces set forward ; a pretty
balcony or wire lace-work ran in front of us breast
high. The hind part was a common omnibus car, such
as we are used to see all the world over. What magic
would set the whole in motion ? Of course we were
going somewhere. There were no horses, no engine,
no visible means of propelling us forward. A newly
arrived Mongolian, seeing this strange vehicle for the
first time, eyed it curiously, " No pushee, no pullee, no
horsee, no steamee ; Melican man heap smart." At the
sound of a bell the man turns the crank and off we go,
flying in the face of the wind at the rate of ten miles
an hour. We charge up one steep hill, then dash
down, and up another, and so on for about four miles.
Never was such a delicious breeze, such a flow of fresh,
144 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
invij^orating air. Long lines of elegant houses, some
of cliatinguisbed architectural grandeur, with stately
palms lifting their grand, green heads like sentinels on
either side of the entrance dof)rs, or rising from the
smooth-shaven lawns embroidered with flowers of
brilliant hues, fly past us on either side, their peaks
and gables silhouetted against the bright blue skies.
Streets and alleys, some wide, some narrow, diverge
and radiate from either side of us. And through this
vista of quaint habitations, of all sorts and sizes, we
get such delicious bits of harbour and river scenery as
would have delighted an artist's soul. On we go,
till we lose sight of sea and river, and the whole
city unrolls itself beneath our feet, sliding down from
its hundred hills, spreading in picturesque a'^d pano-
ramic beauty on all sides of us, till it is lost in the
amethyst haze beyond. Whirled through the air by
our invisible steeds, we look down upon church spires
and steeples, massive towers and palace houses, on
miles of streets, green squares, and blooming gardens,
which Eve herself might have revelled in and dreamed
of her paradise regained. With cheeks aglow, and
spirits buoyant with the delight of our magic journey,
we reached the foot of Lone Mountain. Before we
left our strange vehicle, called by the natives " the
dummy," we ascertained something of its mysterious
engineering. It is of similar construction to that in
use for a time on the old Blackwall railway at home,
being propelled by an underground cable, which runs
along the centre of the road between the regular track
rails, and the hidden underground force is controlled
by the crank, deftly handled by the official who stands
in the middle of our " dummy."
THE GOLDEN CITY.
145
We are at the foot of Lone Mountain, towering
high among the surrounding hills, with the holy cross
planted on the top. It is the loveliest grave-garden
in the world ; not an echo reaches it from the busy,
bustling city below. Surrounded by wild, widespread-
ing uplands and undulating sandhills, barren, and soft,
and gray, with the boom of the Pacific waves thunder-
ing among the low foothills, it stands in isolated
solitude, this beautiful city of the dead. There are
no grim head and footstones, no tons of monumental
marble crushing down upon the helpless dead, enough
to give a ghost the nightmare to think of its poor
body being buried under it. Here the dead are really
laid to rest in a veritable flower-garden. The ground
is arranged in plots, varying from twelve to thirty feet
square, and each plot is owned by one family, who
decorate it according to their own fancy. Every
family grave-garden is surrounded by a low, light
fence, and is entered through a rustic gate, and is
laid out with narrow, neatly gravelled paths, a foot
wide, and borders and flower-beds, some filled with
beautiful roses, some a mass of purple and white
violets, others with different kinds of sweet-smelling
flowers of bright and variegated hues. Everything
is kept in perfect order ; not a weed is to be seen.
Opposite the entrance-gate is a small slab chronicling
the name of the dead below. It is sometimes so hidden
by the luxuriant growth of evergreens and flowers that
you have to search to find it.
Here, in the fragrant and peaceful shade of this
fair garden, the old pioneers, the heroes of the strange
days 'of '49, the storm of their turbulent lives over, the
battle fought, the victory won— or lost ! lie at rest.
!
140
TilKOLCJll CITIES AND PRAIUIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE OLD MISSION.
The Windmills— The Golden Gate Park— The Seal Rock— The
Cliff House — The Mission Dolores.
Alexander wanted more worlds to conquer. If Don
Quixote had sought for more windmills on a general
tilting-ground, he would have found them here. They
are everywhere. We wonder what they are all doing.
It is so unusual to see such a world of windmills in
a large city. Looking round from California Street
hills we see scores of them ; they come upon us, one
after the other, till we forget to count them. They
are of all sorts and all sizes ; some short and stumpy,
with fat arms, wheezing laboriously as the wind sends
them around, as though they were working against
their will ; others are tall and lanky, their long, gaunt
arms whizzing and whirring through the air, always
hard at work except when the wind is still, and that is
not often ; they are painted all the colours of the rain-
how, and look quite gay flashing round in the sunshine.
Every house of the slightest pretensions has a well
and waterworks on its own premises ; the windmill
stands sentinel above them, and sends the fresh cool
stream through the leaden arteries of the housfehold,
and irrigates and refreshes the land when no rain is
TIIF OLD MIPaiON.
147
falling and tho summer sun tries to burn the green
verdure to tinder, for this is a rainless land for six
months of the yet-xr. During summer not a drop falls
to moisten the parched foce of the earth. Everything
is done by artificial irrigation.
We soon leave the city and its windmills behind
us, and enter the Golden Gate Park, where, a few
years ago, the Pacific waves were rolling ; but these
hundreds of acres have been reclaimed from the
sea, and are planted with rare shrubs, young trees,
evergreens, and blooming flowers. It is tastefully
laid out, a landscape garden and park in one ;
there are picturesque winding paths and shady nooks
and corners where you can hide from the sun's
searching rays, and, while you listen to the sing-
ing birds overhead, hear the boom of the breakers
on the shore below. We pass through this paradise
of green and reach a silent sea of yellow sandhills,
smooth and soft as velvet, billowing round in graceful,
undulating waves as far as the eye can reach; there
is a sudden curve, and the wide Pacific Sea, in all its
glory, lies before us clothed in the sunshine, its white
foam lips kissing the golden shore ; its long, level line
stretched against the distant skies. We drove down
to it ; nay, drove into it, and watched its tiny waves
dimpling into a thousand welcomes beneath our wheels.
The sun and the sea conspired together to fill the air
with bright beams and balmy breezes. We felt the
soft spray blowing in our faces, stirring our blood, and
setting our cheeks aglow, and, as we breathed the
crisp, soft air, laden with three thousand miles of
iodine, we seemed to be taking a draught of the elixir
of life. The full fascination of the sea seized our
148
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
senses ; we could not tear ourselves away. Presently,
mingling* with the monotonous moaning of the waves,
we heard a sound like the barking of a kennel of
dogs. Before us, rising out of the sea about a hundred
yards from the shore, was a picturesque mass of broken
crags known as the famous Seal Rocks, whereon thou-
sands of those sensible creatures, from the soft seal
baby to the barnacled old patriarch, lay basking in the
sunshine, barking their satisfaction aloud, floundering
about, rollicking and rolling one over the other, and
splashing into the sea, while some stood solemnly
on end watching the fun. Staiiding just above, on a
steep, rocky eminence which rises abruptly from the
shore, stands the Cliff House, where an excellent table
is always spread for those who choose to partake of the
good things thereon. It is a favourite resort of the
good folk of San Francisco ; they turn their backs upon
the noise and bustle of the city and enjoy here perfect
solitude ; they can descend from the piazza some fifty
rugged steps, and stroll along the wild seashore, un-
disturbed except oy the shriek of the sea-gull and the
barking of the seal colony mingling with the soughing
of the wind, and the low, sullen roar of the waves ;
or saunter up and down the piazza, sipping their coffee
or smoking the beloved weed, and watch the great, red
sun sink like a ball of fire, and drown itself in the
Pacific Sea.
On our way home we passed the old Mission ; at
least, all that is left of it, which is not much — the mere
remnants of some redwood houses and the ancient
church, a quaint-looking, low-roofed home of desolation,
with its adobe walls of sunbaked clay about four feet
thick, which promise to withstand the encroaches of
THK OLD MISPIO\.
149
time a century longer. A chime of three bells still
hangs in three square portholes ; their long tongues,
red with rust, droop dumb and motionless from their
silent mouths. Only a hundred years ago they were
brought from Castile, blessed by the holy fathers, and
brought here to the edge of the wild Western world to
rirjo; out and summon the heathen and the wanderer
CD
to worship the one true God. You enter the ruined
church through a low, arched doorway. The broken
font is still there, but the last drop of holy water was
spilled from it long ago. The muUioned windows are
of a quaint, fanlike shape, and the genial sun tries to
pierce through the grime and dust and send its beams
dancing over the crumbling ruin within. The painted
wooden shrines of St. Joseph and St. Francis (who
gave the settlement of Yerba Buena the name of San
FranciscoJ are still there. Near by are the Madonna
and Child, but the paint has worn off, and they are all
discoloured and stained with the damp wind and the rain
which drips, in the rainy season, from the dilapidated
roof. The crumbling decorations, thou^^^h they are of
a rough, rude workmanship, still bear the stamp of
artistic design, though crudely executed by unaccus-
tomed hands, who laboured for the love of Clod. It is
about a hundred feet from the threshold to the altar.
Give reins to your imagination, set it galloping back a
hundred years, and see the priests, the white nuns, and
hooded friars clustered round the empty altar busy in
the service of the Lord ; the aisles filled v/ith kneeling
Indians, who know little of the faith they have adopted
except that there is an unknown God somewhere who
makes their corn grow, watches over their lives here,
with a promise of a life hereafter ; men from Mexico,
150
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
Peru, and Spain, and wanderers from all along the
wild Pacific coast are standing reverently round ;
censers are swinging, lights are burning, and a choir
of voices chant the Ave Marias. A Christian host
gathered in that wilderness by the sea. Where are
they all now ? Vanished like the children of a dream.
A mouldy, funereal odour clings about the ruined
walls, and we are glad to step out into the little grave-
yard outside, where the English hawthorn and white
winter roses are blooming and the grass growing rich
and luxuriant above the moss-grown graves. Whole
tribes of Indians lie buried in the dust beneath our feet.
There is no more desolate spot in the world than a dis-
used graveyard. We read strange unfamiliar names
upon the broken, half-buried stones, and crumbling urns,
dilapidated angels, and crippled cherubs are tottering
round us. Here and there we decipher an English
name, and, beneath, the information : " Died by the
hands of the Y. C. ; " " In mercy we slay the enemies
of the Lord." The Y. C. means the Yigilance Com-
mittee, who, in the early, lawless days, executed justice
swift and sure upon proven criminals. The strict
justice of their decisions was never called in question.
A certain number of men of known integrity were in-
vested with supreme power of life or death, and the
guilt of a man being once fully assured he had a brief
trial and swift execution. There was no legal quibbling,
which often lets loose some atrocious criminal to prey
upon the world again until, at the end, he is launched
out of it. Near the low, arched gateway stands the di-
lapidated figure of a woman, her sightless eyes and
lifted hands pointing upwards — mute significance of
one hope for all the miscellaneous dead.
THE OLD MISSION.
151
A fresh breeze was blowing outside, but hero it
seemed to hang heavy and still, laden with the damp
odour of mouldering graves, which mingled with and
destroyed the sweet scent of the flowers that are flourish-
ing so luxuriantly above the dead. This was the first
we had seen of the many remnants of the old mission
days, when the Spanish fathers first came to the wilder-
ness to sow the good seed and reap the harvest in their
Lord's name. About the year 1820 the missions began
to decay, the soldiers were recalled from the Presidio,
where they had been stationed for the protection of the
friars and their property, and from that time the
missions dwindled, till the fathers were recalled to
Spain. They carried with them all their cattle and
movable goods, and left their buildings to decay.
These are scattered throughout the State of California,
wherever the fathers held temporary sway. Still,
though they and their labours have passed away,
and are well-nigh forgotten, they have left their traces
behind them : throughout the country we find the old
Spanish names still clinging to the soil, such as Santa
Clara, Santa Rosa, Santa Barbara, San Rafael, San
Jose, Los ^- geles, Monterey, Carmelo, etc. Mr. John
S. Hittell, in his " History of California," has given a
most interesting and graphic account of these missions,
their people, their work, and their efl^ect upon the
country from their first establishment to tneir decline.
The city has grown out of the wilderness, and
crowded so close to the crumbling walls of the ruined
mission that as we leave the gloomy precincts we step
out into the populous streets, whicli are full of hurry,
bustle, and vigorous young life. It is like stepping
from the old century into the new. Gaily painted
iii
1! • n
152 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
cars and omnibuses are dashing up and down the wide
Mission Street, each following the other so quickly
that before you can step into one another is on its
heels.
As we rattle up one street and down another we
cannot help noticing the scarcity of shady trees In all
parts of San Francisco. People take great pride in
their beautiful flowers, their smooth velvet lawns, and
stately palms, which lift their crowned heads on high,
their broad leaves drooping like blessing hands over
the household ; but never a shady tree is planted any-
where.
Although the blissful shade, so highly prized and
so eagerly sought for In other lands, may not be de-
sirable here, where people literally live in the sunshine,
yet we feel that the planting of rows of leafy, green
trees on either side of the streets would turn them at
once into magnificent boulevards. They could still
walk In the sunshine, but the luxuriant green would
be refreshing to the eye. The long range of California
street hills so planted would be a paradise for the gods
to stroll in.
( 153 )
CHAPTER yy.
SOME SAN FRANCISCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS.
Street Architecture — Curiosities of Climate — Brummagem Baronets
— The Sand Lot— The Forty-niners — " Society Ladies."
Rome stands on her seven hills ; San Francisco sits
enthroned upon a hundred. The one is enjoying
her centuries of rest after her triumphant onward
march of a thousand years ; the other is just awaken-
ing, like a royal babe in swaddling-clothes, her
infant hands outstretched to seize the sceptre she
will one day wield as Empress of the West. She
looks down upon scenes of surpassing beauty-r-wide-
spreading hills and valleys, wooded dells, and dark
pine forests reaching away till they are lost in the
purple hills beyond. She is more than half sur-
rounded by water. Along the east runs the beautiful
blue bay, sixty miles long, studded by green or rocky
islets, and honeycombed by smaller bays, wherein lay
shady villages and thriving towns. To the north lies
the Grolden Grate, opening out to the glorious Pacific
Sea, whose white-crested waves break and boom like
muffled thunder along the sandy shore, rushing onward
and bounding with its bright waters the western part
of the city, which has scarcely a level square in the
154 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LA^DS.
whole of it. It is built in an up-and-down, zigzag
fashion, some of the streets creeping up the hill side-
ways like a crab ; some, such as California, Clay, and
Sutter, dashing straight up, as though they were in a
hurry to get out of the city and be lost in the great
beyond ; while one end of Montgomery Street rusiies
up the steep slope of Telegraph Hill so precipitately
and abruptly that the basement windows of one house
have an excellent view of the chimney-pots of the next.
The houses are all built of wood, to which the
cunning builder gives all the massive appearance of
substantial stone buildings. They are generally painted
white, sometimes picked out with drab or gray. The
fronts are always elaborately carved, and sometimes
bordered round the windows with the natural red
wood left unpainted. This mass of dazzling white
liouses gives the city a wonderfully brilliant appear-
ance, especially when seen from the street hills. On
California Street hill are some really palatial residences,
the homes of the railway and bonanza kings. Some
are built in the most ornamental style of a kind of
mongrel Gothic, with as many peaks, spires, and gables
as could be crowded into one spot, oddly shaped
windows — oval, oblong, diamond-shaped, or square —
breaking out in unexpected places, variety of form
being in eveiy way more considered than the strict
adherence to any special form of architecture. If we
could make a twelfth cake as large as an island, and
stick one of these special mansions on the top, its airy
elegance would be the admiration of the world. General
Colton has here a really splendid residence. A " villa "
he modestly calls it ; we style it a mansion. It is built
in the pure Italian style of architecture, elegant and
SOME SAN FRANCISCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS.
155
graceful, yet stately and imposing in its grand sim-
plicity. It stands out in striking contrast to the
decorated dwellings on the other side. Every man
who builds a house lays " a trap to catch a sunbeam "
in the form of a bay window. They are everywhere,
in every street, and on both sides of it. The Palace
Hotel seems built entirely of bay windows from its
base to the height of its seven floors. This immense
caiavansera is honevcombed with them, and it has the
appearance of a straight square mountain covered with
bird-cages. The sun in other cities is a luxury of life,
here it is a necessity. " Sunny suites " are advertised
and sought for everywhere. In other places people
usually avoid the sun, and seek the shady side of tlie
road. Here they bask like lizards in the sunshine ; it
is only dire necessity that drives them into the shade.
There is no scarcity of sunshine either ; the land is
flooded with it. Nowhere is the sun so bright, so
genial, and strong, always looking down with warm
friendly eyes, never sending its fierce, fiery lances
down to smite and slay with their cruel stroke. The
heat is tempered by a cool, invigorating breeze, and
while the sun inclines you to throw off your seal-
skin, the wind warns you to cling to it. Some never
leave off their furs, others never put them on. The
variations of temperature during summer and winter
are so slight that one style of clothing serves for the
whole year. Your wardrobe never suffers from an
irruption. You may meet a lady promenading in lace
and muslin in December, and in velvet and furs in
June ; or in a single walk through the city you may
meet one lady in the airiest of costumes, another
cloaked and muffled up to the chin ; one gentleman in
.
156 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
a linen duster, another in a top-coat. Nobody is ever
too warm, nobody is ever too cold. It seems like a
riddle, but you must come here to read it. Every-
thing seems bouleverse, even to the climate. There
is no settled rule anywhere or in anything ; it is a
sort of " go-as-you-please " city. There is a general
rush and hurry everywhere, a kind of picturesque
lawlessness, which is most refreshing to those who
come from the other side of the world, where pro-
priety always wears her best bib and tucker, and
etiquette in her regulation dress, tied with the reddest
of red tape, reigns supreme, and natural impulse is
bound down in the straitest of strait-waistcoats.
Fashion is the only tyrant, the spoilt pet and ruler
among the ladies, for if a San Francisco lady is not in
the fashion she is nowhere. In their desire to attain
to the utmost height of that fickle goddess they some-
times " o'erleap the selle, and fall on the other side ; "
but as a rule they are well and tastefully dressed.
The gentlemen are supremely indifferent on the sub-
ject ; each dresses to please himself, and consults only
his own individual comfort and convenience, whereas
in most large cities, where the sacred " chimney-pot "
prevails, one man is as like another as two peas,
faultlessly attired in the same fashion, from the crown
of his head to the sole of his feet. Here it is altogether
different ; here are hats with high crowns, low crowns,
III • or no crowns, straw, felt, willow, or wide Panama ;
gray suits, white suits, and blue suits. But the Cali-
,, fornian proper is very particular in his choice of a
|j necktie, which is alwaj^s of the most brilliant hue.
Even in Eastern or Continental cities, where black
ties are the rule, he will burst out in gorgeous colours.
SOME SAN FRANCISCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS. 157
In the evening, however, when he presents himself
hefore the ladies, the swallow-tail coat is strictly de
rigueur.
Social life flows on in an easy, pleasant, sans souci
fashion, for the San Franciscans are a most hospitable
people, and are disposed to open their hearts as well
as their doors to their visitors from the outside world,
and do all in their power to make their beautiful city
a home to the passing stranger. This open-hearted
hospitality is sometimes imposed upon by an influx of
British baronets, whose names are unknown in their
native land, and pseudo lords, made up by their tailors,
whose names have never figured in the peerage. Occa-
sionally these Brummagem gentry dip their fingers
into the purse of the open-handed Californian, and
sometimes make themselves too fatally agreeable to the
ladies ; but as a rule their false pretensions are dis-
covered, and they are quietly driven from the city,
before the damage done is irreparable. The inhabitants
are apt to give too easy credence to a self-asserting
class, who swagger about the hotels as true gentle-
folk never do, and whose brassy impudence for a time
passes {) pure gold. But perhaps it is better to be
sometimes deceived than always distrustful.
There is no settled " society " here, regarding the
subject from our point of view. It is impossible there
sliould be in a country which is in a constant state of
fermentation, fluctuating from one extreme to the other,
where the game of speculation is being played on all
sides, and everybody takes a hand. The cauldron is
for ever bubbling and boiling over, and somebody goes
to the bad. Men and women who have held their
place in brilliant circles one year drop out of it the
158 THROUGH CITIKS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
next, and sink down and are lost, no one knows liow or
where. The circle closes, and the dance of life goes on.
Of course there are many people of wealth and
position who have played a winning game, and are
satisfied now to settle down and watch the growth
of the beloved city they have helped to make. Most
of the families of culture, intellect, and refinement are
those who came there thirty years ago, when the gold
fever first broke out and drew some of the best blood
from every land towards itself. And those men and
women, too, who came out in the old, rough days,
have grown purer, stronger, and better from mingling
with the new life in a new land. There has been
no effete civilization here. Every man has depended
on his own brains, his own hand for his well-doing.
It may truly be said, in this land above all others,
that every man is the architect of his own fortunes.
Of course much of the coarse, vulgar element of man-
kind has swarmed and is still swarming into this
Golden State. Some regard it as a sort of Tom
Tiddler's ground, where they can run about picking
up gold and silver. When they find their mistake,
and learn that here, as elsewhere, men must bring
labour of hand or brain to the market and pay in
full for every crust they eat, they enrol them^selves
in the noble army of the unemployed, parade the
streets in lazy battalions, hold mass meetings, and howl
over their misfortunes, shake their fists in the face
of calamity : " Why can't they drink the wine of life
and revel in champagne and roses ? " They will do
anything, everything, but work for it. These people,
who are not native born, but are the mere refuse of other
nations, which has rolled across the sea and been flung
SOME SAN B'RANCISCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS. 159
Upon the shores of the AYeyterri World, have won for
tliemselves the title of Sarid-lotter.s. They have their
meeting's on a vacant sand-heap on the edge of the town,
which is held entirely sacred to them, and here they
bluster, and storm, and loudly assert their " rights."
They decide who is fit to live and who is fit to die.
Figuratively, they hang the capitalist on his own
threshold and divide his wealth among their worthier
selves. If the general atmosphere were more coni-
hustible their incendiary speeches would set the land
in flames. These people, though contemptible in them-
selves, create a general agitation and confusion, drive
capital away from the city, and have given rise to
a general sense of insecurity. As a grain of sand will
set all the delicate working of a watch awry, so they
have disturbed the peace for a while ; but it is a storm
in a tea-cup, that will soon be over. The party of
law and order is firmly knit together, and dignified
in its silent strength. So long as the dronish popula-
tion confines itself to buzzing and burring around,
carrying on a boisterous war of words only, they keep
a dignified silence ; but at the first attempt to sting,
it will be crushed like a wasp. In no other country
would a foreign element be allowed to create so much
disorder. The native population are a peaceful, law-
abiding race. " This is a land of liberty," they say ;
but when liberty becomes license to the vicious, alas
for poor liberty !
America is willing to stretch a welcoming hand
to all comers without regard to creed or nationality,
to give land to such as desire to make a home among
them, and a free liberal education to their children,
to throw open its offices of State and General Govern-
100
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
ment to all candidates who are fit to fill them. It is
large in generosity as mighty in strength, and it
is a small thing to ask that its laws be kept and its
institutions respected by the stranger who benefits by
the national hospitality.
Young children must go through certain physical
disturbances before they arrive at a state of healthy
maturity, and I suppose young States must go through
similar mental distractions before they settle down into
a dignified calm. The adolescent State of California
is no exception to the rule, but it is cutting its wisdom
teeth and learning to comport itself with a dignity
befitting the great Union of which it is a part.
Men no longer carry their lives in their hands, as
in the old days of lawless, romantic adventure, but I
am afraid a few still secretly carry arms in their
pockets, and use them, perhaps, upon small provoca-
tion. But things are improving and changing rapidly ;
the people are prospering, and, the essentials of life
being secured, their thoughts and ambitions are soaring
into higher regions. Civilization, which, for years
past, has been marching westward, subduing prairies,
cutting down forests, piercing mountains, and spanning
rivers, seems to have ended her grand progress and,
for a time, sat down to rest here ; resting, though
working still, establishing rule and order. There are
no stagnant ideas, no stereotyped monotony here;
everything is full of electrical life ; people think, move,
and act quickly; they are not content with what is,
but look forward to what shall be. This beautiful
California — land of the sun, of the palm and pine— has
only one chapter in its past, but it is creating for itself
a glorious future.
[
SOME SAN FRANCISCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS.
161
Things happen here that wo cannot conceive
happening in any other city in the world. Walking
through the streets one day, we met a strange figure
carrying a parti-coloured umbrella — red, white, and
blue. He was a gray-haired, elderly man, dressed in
a faded military uniform, with tarnished epaulets, and
a scarlet feather in his cap. He may be seen wander-
ing through the streets of the c'ty in all weathers.
He has been so wandering for the last twenty years
or more. He labours under the delusion that he is
" Emperor of all the Americas." The people humour
him, and allow him to indulge in that delusion. He
issues proclamations, which jire printed in the news-
papers, and posted at street corners. Sometimes,
being in want of twenty dollars, he levies a tax upon
his " loyal subjects," Some wealthy citizen answers
the demand at once ; he is never denied. He dines
where he pleases, free ; patronizes such places of
entertainment as he chooses, free ; rides on the cars or
on the trams, free ; indeed, he has the freedom of the
city in the truest sense of the word. On inc^uiry we
learn the reason of this general indulgence. He was
a mason and a forty-niner, they say ; and was ruined
by the great fire, when his wits were shaken, and this
royal delusion rose on the wreck of his reason, and
the kindly people, in the spirit of true camaraderie,
will never let the old man want.
Here is another anecdote characteristic of San
Francisco kindliness, being the history in brief of
Bummer and Lazarus (the names being descriptive
of the habits of one dog, and the appearance of
the other, on his firf^t entrance into public life).
"Bummer" was a big dog, a vagabord much beloved
M
r
162
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
II
of the town, who could not be coaxed into civilized
ways. He disdained to live in a house, or to serve one
mnster. He was a kind of canine tramp, who lived by
his Avits. Like the Emperor, he too enjoyed the
hospitality of the city. Lazarus was a little mangy
cur, thin, sickly, and half-starved. One day some
other dogs attacked poor, miserable little Lazarus.
Bummer, perhaps moved by kindred feelings — the
assailants being household property, and Lazarus a
tramp like himself — plunged into the fray to the
rescue of Lazarus.
From that day the two wanderers were a canine
Damon ^nd Pythias. They became well known in the
city. Lazarus looked starved and sickly no longer.
Bummer introduced him to his own chosen haunts.
They went together to such restaurants as they chose
to honour, and dined gratis. Messrs. Bummer and
Lazarus were always welcome, and never sent hungry
away. It was observed that the big dog always gave
his small companion a full share of the delicacies of
the season. When an Act was passed commanding
all dogs in the city of San Francisco to be muzzled,
a clause was made exempting " Bun -ner and Lazarus."
However, their time came. Bumni^x* died one day ;
Lazarus was found dead by his side on the next. An
old resident of the city who knew the dogs well, and
had fed them many a time, toid me this story. They
are stuffed now, and have their place among the many
mement-^es of " old days " — old in the space of thirty
years.
Only the healthy and the strong keep their grip on
the land, and these, the = arly pioneers of the State,
form the most delightful society in San Francisco.
SOME SAN FRAN( (SCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS.
16''
)o
led,
55
Their homes are the abode of elegance and refinement.
We are sometimes disposed to wonder how all th.'o
culture has reached this far-away land, — the " Wijv^
West " we call it, — wild now in nothing but its natural
attractions ; in no country in the world are there more
luxurious, happy homes than here in San Francisco.
Those who are in a position and have the power to
entertain their friends, do so with genial cordiality.
Some have one evening in the week, some another ;
there is no set formality ; but we meet with the
gracious courtesy of the Old World warmed by the
hearty whole-souled welcome of the New. Those who
have the power to indulge their .'^esthetic fancies gather
about them all that is beautiful in the way of art that
can attract and satisfy the most artistic taste.
The home of one lady is at this moment present to
my mind's eye. She has travelled over the world, and
brought back with her some perfect gems in the way
of bric-a-brac, paintings, and sculpture. There are
among them two exquisite marble statues, both unique
in conception and excellent in execution. The one is
" Delilah," a grand, grim piece of workmanship ; the
other, the more poetical and sympathetic " Lost
Pleiad ; " the yearning, searching look upon her face
reaches the heart, and we wish we could help her find
her way home. Here it has been our ->od fortune to
fall in with some of the " Forty-niners," ttd all who came
over in that year are called. Many m.^y have come
over adventuring earlier or later ; no matter, they
have no distinguishing title to chronicle their ad /ent.
Only the " Forty-niners " are regarded as the original
pioneers. Their numbers are lessening day by dav ;
but a few are now remaining, and they are all a fine,
i
164
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
stalwart race of men, with no signs of age or decay,
some with dehcate poetical faces, which it is difficult to
associate with the rude times we know they have
passed through ; they have grown gray with the
passing years, but not old ; they look as though they
could brace themselves together and do their work
over again. In this electric air age seems chary of
advancing ; youth blooms long after it would have
perished elsewhere. The perennial springtime in
earth and air seems to have communicated itself to the
lives of men. They are full of anecdote, and brimming
over wi^h. the romance and stirring adventure of
bygone days, and proud of their beautiful city, too ; as
well they may be. They have watched it grow stone
by stone, street by street, and have helped to make
it what it is. They found it a heap of hovels and
sandhills, and when they are carried to their graves
in Lone Mountain, they will leave it the fairest and
loveliest city in the world.
In addition to these pleasant gatherings, San Fran-
cisco frequently breaks out into grander gaieties, and
entertains her hundreds in the most magnificent
fashion. Society sounds her trumpet, and her armies
gather round her in gorgeous array, when frivolity and
fashion hold high revels for a season. There is no
genial sociability then ; it is all gaslight, music, roses,
and champagne. Gentlefolk are divided into two
classes, " society ladies," and ladies pure and simple.
The " society lady " has her dresses chronicled in all
the public papers ; whole columns are devoted to the
description of dresses. To all the Pacific coast is made
known the important fact that the young and beautiful
Miss So-and-so wore pink silk trimmed with point-
I
SOME SAX FRANCISCO WAYS AND CUSTOMS.
165
lace, while the lovely Miss Such-a-one wore pea-green
and apple blossoms, her stately mamma appearing in
imperial velvet and rubies. And so on. Woe be to
the audacious damsel who dares to appear in the same
dress twice running ! Everybody knows all about it,
and the cost of every yard of satin or inch of lace
is catalogued in the feminine mind. And woe be to
the simple toilet which will not do credit to the
reporter's pen ! The girls all wonder how their dresses
will look in print, and to that end select them. Here
a noble course of ruin begins — so far, at least, as an
extravagant woman can ruin a man, and we all know
how much she can do towards it. There are some-
times more dollars on a woman's back than remain
in her husband's pocket.
It is a pernicious habit, this advertising business,
and brings to the surface the smaller, meaner passions
of the female nature. There are numbers who would
gladly break from this iron rule of custom, but they
either have not the courage to strike the first blow
or are borne down by the great majority on the other
side. But things here, as elsewhere, will right them-
selves in time.
166
THROUrxH CITIES A^T> PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE FLOWERY KINGDOM.
A Visit to Chinatown — Its General Aspect — A Tempting Display
— Barbers' Shops — A Chinese Restaurant — Their Joss House
— Their Gods.
It is nine o'clock in the evening when we start for an
investigating ramble through Chinatown. Time was
when men went over " the sea in ships " when they
desired to visit the celestial land ; now they can go
there and back in an hour, and not travel on telegraph
wires either. The mountain has come to Mahomet,
and deposited its load in the very heart of the " Golden
City."
Kearney Street is brilliantly lighted, the shops are
temptingly arrayed in their best wares, and a well-
dressed world of men and women are strolling up and
down, chatting, laughing, bargaining, and buying.
We watch the California Street dummy charge up the
hill with its last load of passengers, its red fiery eye
blazing boldly on us as it drops down the other side
of the hill, and is lost to sight. We feel quite at home
here, though we are eight thousand miles away from
our native shores. A sudden turn out of the bustling
thoroughfare, a few steps forward, and we know we are
THE FLOWERY KINGDOM.
167
in a foreign land. We are escorted by a private friend
and a police detective, without whose protective pre-
sence it would not be safe to venture into those dingy
courts and alleys which lie festering in the very heart
of the " Flowery Kingdom." We keep close to our
escorts ; we feel that we have stepped beyond the
bounds of civilization, and are surrounded by a subtle
element utterly foreign and inimical to our own. We
are in the city of the idolatrous heathen, in whose
sight our Christian civilization is an abomination and
a snare. Pig-tailed, blue-bloused Celestials swarm in
the roadway and on the sidewalks. They surge round
us with their silent, stealthy tread. At the sight of
our escort's face, or the sound of his voice, they slink
away and are gone like shadows. The streets are
dimly lighted ; the gas does not blaze, it blinks behind
its glasses, but the big white moon gives light enough
for us to see the cheap gaudy magnificence around us.
We are passing the Joss house. It flaunts its scarlet
streamers overhead, and flanks its doors with legends
in saffron and gold. Within is a glitter of tinsel, a
subdued light, and the flicker of a tiny lamp before
some figure of barbaric ugliness. The air floats out
loaded with the fumes of smokina; sandal-wood and
strange odours froi*n the East. The doors are open,
but we do not enter yet. We stroll up the street,
taking an exterior view before we penetrate to the
interior. Coloured lanterns are strung along some of
the balconies, or hang from the windows. Red and
black signs in crooked characters are everywhere, and
from all sides resounds the echo, it seems, of a hundred
unknown tongues. The slant-eyed pagans leer at us
curiously as they pass to and fro. They bear us
108 TnROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
"white devils" no good will, if we read their looks
aright. Liglits stream from collar flaps, creep through
open doors and window chinks, hut the shops are
'|| ■ only lighted hy a succession of dingy oil lamps. Dis-
cordant noises of rnsping fiddles, gongs, and sundry
unknown tuneless instruments miniide with the clatter
of strange tongues. The very laughter comes to us
jangled and out of tune, and the air is filled with
odours the reverse of sweet. Mouldy fruits, wilted
vegetahles, stale fish, too long divorced from its native
element, all mingle in one common and most un-
savoury scent.
The Chinese shops make no endeavour to attract
the eye or tempt the appetite of the Celestial
horde. But, perhaps, what seems to us a disgusting
display may seem to them a tempting sight. The
butcher, who is a general merchant as well, sells Joss
sticks, teapots, tobacco, and scores of other things.
He flanks his door on either side with the carcass of
huge slaughtered hogs. They are not quartered and
jointed in Christian fashion, but are hacked, and hewn,
and torn asunder just as the meat is wanted, and
present a mangled, shapeless mass, sickening to look
II at. Split chickens and fowls are flattened out like
sheets of paper, and nailed against the wall. Delicate
titbits, steeped in oil and dried, are strung up and
hung like cherry bob across the windows, and scores
of oily cakes, like lumps of yellow soap, are laid on
benches. Lumps of delight they are in Celestial eyes,
judging by the lingering glances they cast thereon.
The shops are very dingy and dark inside, and those
which are not devoted to the sale of eatables have a
spicy, pungent odour everywhere, no matter what
THE FLOWERY KIXGDOM.
160
articles of mercliandise they sell. We went into two
or three shops in search of some special article which
we might carry away as a souvenir of our visit, but
could find nothiv.'g hut cheap, tawdry trash, heryl
bracelets, bead necklaces, tiny cups and saucers, etc.
There was no brilliant display of gold embroideries,
vases, and Oriental magnificence, which characterizes
our Chinese shops at home. The Chinese merchant
sits in silent state behind his counter, watching our
every moment with his stealthy almond" eyes. lie
makes no attempt to force his wares upon us ; indeed,
he seems sublimely indifferent wdiether we buy or not.
His long, shapely hands are folded before him as he
sits on his high stool serene and dignified, while we
peer curiously about, examining anything that catches
our eye. We see nothing we care to purchase, so
make a smiling apology for our intrusion, and he bows
us out with courteous but most mnjestic silence.
We pass on our way, look down the cellar flaps,
and see the barbers at work in their underground
shops. Within a radius of half a mile there are no
less than fifty of these places, devoted to the cleansing
and decoration of the Mongolian head. You may
glance down these steps at any hour of the day or
night and you will see the operators busy at their
tonsorial labour. Never was such clean shaving, such
delicate cleansing of eyes, ears, and nostrils, such trim-
ming and pencilling of brows and lashes, such a
scraping and polishing of oily faces, such a plaiting
of the beloved and sacred pigtail, and the Celestial
pagan issues from the hands of the barber a proud and
happy man, the perfect ideal of a Chinese beau ; every
inch above his shoulders is scraped and polished to
.
170 THROUOn CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
perfection. This luxurious treatment which he receives
at the hands of his barber is a law among the followers
of Confucius. Tlie Chinaman feels the necessity of
frequent rejuvenation under the razors, probes, and
pencils of the barber, who is one of the best employed
and most iir ^tant persons in the community. The
almond-eyed pugan is never seen without his pigtail ;
the loss of it is considered the greatest calamity that
can befall him. When he is engaged in his household
work he winds his pigtail round his head in the fashion
of a Grecian knot.
Our next visit was to a Chinese restaurant, which
is patronized by the wealthier as well as the lower
order of that peculiar people. The ground-floor is a
kind of general utility store for the sale of miscel-
laneous comestibles. Bright, blue-bloused little China
boys, their pigtails just sprouting, are squatting on
the floors, cutting and chopping up meat and vege-
tables. In the kitchen, a few steps above, the cooks
are busily at work preparing the unsavoury savoury
feast for the hungry horde who are presently expected
to supper. Beef or mutton is rarely if ever used in
their culinary operations. Pork, rats, rabbits, geese,
or fowls form the staple part of. their substantial food,
but these are never eaten in their natural simplicity ;
they are disguised and minced, and mixed with spices,
vegetables, entrails, oil, and rancid butter, sometimes
stewed, and sometimes being roiled in a thin wafery
crust of paste. We saw plenty of these arranged for
frying, like sausages in disguise. There is a greasy
oleaginous look about everything, a smell like rusty
bacon everywhere. A culinary war was being carried
on in the kitchen, the pots and pans were specially
THE FLOWERY KIXGDOM.
171
clean and bright, the cooks went clattering round
lifting lids and stirring one thing after another, and
handing us a long iron spoon hospitably invited us
to dip in and taste, assuring us it was " velly good,"
which invitation I need not say we courteously refused.
A few steps higher on the first floor is the dining-room
or grand saloon, which is only used by the wealthy
merchants. It is furnished with very dark walnut,
with quaint ebony carvings of birds, curious beasts,
and flowers, all beautifully executed, and worthy of a
better place. The tables and chairs were of the same
heavy dark material. The room was divided in two
by a wide archway. There was an alcove on one side
for musicians, and all kinds of queer, quaint musical
instruments, some twisted like serpents, some like
grotesque, misshapen guitars, were hung against the
wall. Lacquered cabinets and tea-trays, with tiny
covered cups and saucers, and hideous bronze orna-
ments, were scattered around. Rich tapestried hang-
ings were draped across the windows, and the wide
balcony was filled with flowers, and a string of lighted
lanterns were hung over the outside railings. On one
side of the room, about two feet from the ground, was
a raised platform covered with matting and cushions,
a block of wood in the centre to hold a lamp. Thither
the luxurious Mongolian retires to smoke the inevitable
opium when the feast is over. At the entrance-door
of all eating-rooms stands a bowl of chop-sticks ; each
guest as he enters supplies himself with a pair. The
floor above is arranged in a simpler, rougher fashion
for an inferior class of visitors. The floor above that
is simpler and rougher still. And so the grade goes
upward, and so does the tea. The real, fine, aromatic
172 TITROUOII CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
herb, in all perfection, is served on the first floor;
water is added to the leaves (for they are an economical
race), and served on the second ; more water for the
!J:i third. And so on, till a decoction of damaged water
is served to the lowest, albeit the highest class of
guests, for the poorer class here mount heavenward so
far as this earth is concerned.
Laundries abound, though they are by no means
confined to Chinatown. They are found in all quarters
of San Francisco. Sometimes the Chinese laundry
is a mere wooden shed, wedged in between tall houses,
or standing in some out-of-the-way nook, where
you would hardly think of pitching a pigsty. We
passed some of these rickety places, the white linen
drying on the roofs, flapping to and fro in a weird,
ghastly fashion in the moonlight. The work is carried
on by night as well as by day, for these moon-eyed
Mongolians are a most industrious race, and in their
economy of time and space a double set of workmen
occupy a single room, and labour in relays. When the
day-labourer retires to his shelf the night-worker rises
from it, and carries on the business till the morning ;
so the fire is never out, and the starching, ironing,
plaiting, and pleating is always going on. Passing
through the streets of San Francisco at any hour of the
night you see the faint glimmer of the laundry-lamp
flickering through the dingy window-panes.
We next turned into one of their many Joss houses,
where the worship of their hideous idols was in full
swing. We ascended a dingy, dirty staircase and
entered a large room on the first floor, which was
furnished with gods and altars of all descriptions.
Crowds of worshippers were passing to and fro, now in
THE FLOWERY KIXODOM.
173
single file, now in battalions ; some were smolcinf^,
some were conversing in their low, licjiiid laiigunge
one with another. One jerked his head with a kind of
familiar nod, which was meant for a reverential
obeisance to a specially ugly deity. Another threw
a stick into the air in front of the altar, and according
to the way it pointed as it fell his ])rayer would be
granted or not. I do not know whether Joss was
propitious, but his worshipper picked up the stick and
retreated downstairs. There was certaiidy no estab-
lished set form in this religious business; but I suppose
there must on occasions be some special ceremonials
when priests are needed, for two or three of them,
dressed in the fashion of stage heralds, came out from a
little back room, stared at us, and retreated, closing
the door behind them. The worshippers passed in and
out, and to and fro among their gods with perfect non-
chalance. There was neither reverence, nor supersti-
tions awe, nor fanatical devotion visible among them.
What seemed to be their favourite, judging from the
number of his worshippers, was a huge monster like an
immense painted wooden doll, with flaming vermilion
cheeks, and round black eyes starting from his head.
He was dressed in wooden robes of the gaudiest, strongly
contrasted colours, and surrounded by all kinds of
tinselled magnificence, in the way of gilt pnper, arti-
ficial wreaths, and wax roses as large as cabbages,
while standing before him on the altar was a bowl of
ashes stuck full of Joss sticks, some burnt out, some still
smouldering, the offering of later worshippers.
The altar is of ivory, and is exquisitely carved and
gilt. It illustrates the history of some great battle which
was fought two thousand years ago. It is protected,
.
e>.
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
y
A
^
/-
y.
^
7a
1.0
I.I
1.25
■^ U£ 12.2
US
140
2.0
1.8
U III 1.6
^^
Va
/:
^A
'/
/A
^>
i^
174
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
and so partly hidden, by a wire network. There are
sundry other smaller altars and idols in the same room.
Some are distorted libels on the human form divine ;
others are grotesque representations of birds, beasts, or
reptiles held sacred by the Chinese; son^e are of
bronze, or of brass, and some of painted wood. There
are no seats, and the floor is thickly sprinkled with
sawdust. The walls are hung with scarlet and blue
paper prayers and gilt thanksgivings. Among these
was an advertisement, which our guide translated to
us. It was the offer of a reward, not for the discovery
of a murderer, but a reward for the committal of a
murder. Ah Fooh and Wong Ah had roused the
anger of the great Joss, who promises to grant the
prayers and take into special favour him who will put
the obnoxious Ah Fooh and Wong Ah out of the way ;
viz. the gods will favour him who commits the crimes,
which are no crimes when the gods command their
committal. Our guide informed us that the objection-
able parties would assuredly " disappear," no one
would know how, or when, or where. Such murders
are never discovered. The Celestials hold their secrets
close, and it rarely happens that one will bear evidence
against another in our courts of law. If he does, well,
it is likely enough he " disappears " too. They care
nothing for our laws and customs, and have a supreme
contempt for our legal institutions. They have their
exits and their entrances, their lotteries, their imports,
exports, diversions, secret tribunals, and punishments
of which we know nothing. They are under the
surveillance and rule of the Six Companies, who hold
supreme authority over them. They have laws within
our laws, which are to us as a sealed book. They
THE FLOWERY KINGDOM.
175
rarely, if ever, appeal to the United States authorities
for the settlement of their difficulties. If they do the
judgment is sure to be reversed in their own courts,
the prosecutor is tried and punished by the secret
tribunal, and the whole affair is shrouded in a mystery
that the outside world can never penetrate.
We passed from this large and most important
chamber through a nest of dingy, dirty rooms, each
presided over by a god or goddess more or less
hideously grotesque, and lighted only by a tiny glass
lamp, which hangs before every shrine, and is kept
burning night and day. Each has a bronze bowl of
Joss sticks burning in his or her honour, filling the air
with smoky, stifling incense. Lying about on sundry
small tables are miniature copies of their ugly idols,
and tiny curiosities in the shape of birds, beasts, and
fishes, all part and parcel of Chinese mythology. There
were some superb china vases (which would make the
eyes of the collector twinkle), filled with tawdry paper
flowers, standing here and there among Joss sticks and
split bamboos, sometimes used in the interpretation or
divination of the will of the gods. Brummagem de-
corations and tinselled magnificence abound every-
where. In one room was a curious adobe oven. We
wondered whether it was used to bake Christians or
purify the heathen, but we learned that it was used at
certain seasons of the year when Satan is symbolically
burned, he being represented on the occasion by torn
strips of red paper, which have been appropriately
cursed and sentenced by the priesthood. The smaller
gods had fewer worshippers, and it was strange to
observe there was not a single woman among them.
Perhaps, having no souls to be saved in the next
176
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
world, they have grown weary of praying for the good
things of this. In every room, great and small, there
is a rough wooden structure like a very tall stool.
Within it hangs a bell, and above it either a gong or a
big drum. These are used to rouse the drowsy gods
from their slumbers, or to attract their attention when
they have been too long forgetful of the desires of their
devotees. AVherever we went a crowd of these olive-
skinned, pig-tailed figures gathered silently as shadows
about us, staring at us with their melancholy, ex-
pressionless eyes. The Chinese seem all to be made
on one pattern. They have all the same serenity of
face, of gait, and manner ; their features never stir,
their eyes never vary, they never gesticulate, are never
excited : only the meaningless smile that is " childlike
and bland " occasionally creeps over their faces. The
more we see of these strange, passionless people, the
stranger they seem to us, and we more fully recognize
that they are an utterly alien race, whom we can never
comprehend. Looking on their sphinxlike faces we
wonder what feelings, what human passions, what
emotions, lie hidden beneath them. We might as well
try to solve the riddle of the Sphinx's self. But in
spite of their impassibility we feel that the barbarous
element is there, steady, strong, and cruel. The
Chinese are a puzzle, which the subtlest minds have
failed to piece together. California has a hard nut to
crack, and I fear it will break its teeth before it gets to
the kernel.
( 177 )
CHAPTER XVII.
A WORLD UNDERGROUND.
The Pawnbroker's Shop — The Opium Dens — The Smokers — A
World within .* World — The Women's Quarters.
We were rather tired of our night's wandering, but as
we did not desire to encroach upon the kindness of our
guide by occupying his time on another evening, we
resolved to see all that was to be seen at once ; we
therefore retired to a restaurant for a temporary rest
and refreshed ourselves with tiny cups of tea. Neither
milk nor sugar is served with this refreshment ; only a
grape or raisin is swimming in the liquid amber, which
has a delicious flavour, quite different from the finest
Chinese tea imported for European consumption. Our
escort endeavoured to dissuade us from farther pene-
tration into the mysteries of Chinatown, as he feared
we might be shocked at the sights and scenes there ;
but we had left our nerves at home, so girding on our
mental armour, we sallied forth again.
We turned into Sacramento Street, and descended
one of those cellar flaps, where the barber was still busy
with his tonsorial operations. We passed through his
pigtailed congregation of customers, some of whom
looked as though they sorely needed combing, and
N
178
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
found ourselves in a dingy pawnbroker's shop, lighted
by a single oil lamp, and certainly not more than
twelve feet square ; but every nook and corner, hole
and crevice, from floor to ceiling, was crammed with a
miscellaneous collection of unredeemed pledges. There
were clocks, caps, quaint Chinese ornaments in great
variety, which the collector might search the civilized
world for in vain ; firearms and pistols of all patterns
and all ages (most of them, we were informed, were
loaded) ; daggers and knives without end ; among
them was the curious fan-shaped stiletto, which may
be carried in the hand by a lady without rousing a
suspicion as to its real use, for when sheathed it re-
presents a closed fan ; some of the knives, their
favourite weapons in social and street warfare, are
short and broad, some long and narrow ; the most
formidable are about a foot long and six inches wide ;
these are used in pairs, one in each hand. Our escort
informed us that with these implements he had known
one belligerent Chinaman slash another into an un-
recognizable mass in less than five minutes. Besides
these there were beds, bedding, divers articles of
clothing, cooking pots and brass pans ; in fact, every-
thing except the sacred pigtail, without which a China-
man can hope for no honour in this world nor any glory
in the next.
Through this, we stooped our heads and passed
under a low doorway into a black hole — I can describe
it in no other way — where there was a bin for ashes or
kitchen refuse and a heap of battered pots and pans ;
a wooden bench or stool, black with grime, a few
wooden bowls and chopsticks, while sundry bits of rag
hung on a line over our heads. A coolie was crouch-
A WORLD UNDERGROUND.
179
ing over the fire in one corner, stirring some horrible
compound with a long wooden spoon. The fire
sputtered and sent forth feeble flame flashes and dense
volumes of smoke, through which the swarthy form of
the crouching coolie loomed upon our sight like the
evil genie of some Arabian tale. This was a kitchen !
There was no chimney, no window, no drainage. And
in this foul den scores of hungry Celestials would come
presently to feed. From this we entered a labyrinth
of galleries, running in all directions. On either
side were rows of small chambers, honeycombed with
an economy of space that outwits the invention of the
white man altogether. The majority of these are just
long enough to lie down in, and broad enough for a
narrow door to open between the two beds of straw,
each of which contains two sleepers. On reaching the
end of this gallery, we were informed that it was a
hundred and twenty feet long. There is no ventilation,
and not a breath of air enters, except from the cellar
through which we entered, and even that comes filtered
through the barber's and pawnbroker's shops before
alluded to. • .
We gladly return to the fresh air, but only for a
moment's breathing-space before descending to still
deeper depths. The very bowels of the earth, it seems,
are riddled and honeycombed by these human moles,
who, like the ghost of the murdered Dane, can " work
in the dark." We light a candle, which burns but
feebly in the subterranean darkness of this double
night. We thread our way single file, keeping always
within an inch of our escort' i coat-tail, and descend
into these lower regions. Here in the heart of a city
filleC with light and beauty, we find ourselves groping
*1„J
180
TRBOUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
our way two storeys underground by the light of a
tallow candle ! Through dingy courts and alleys, up
steps and down steps, round corners, and up or down
zigzag stairways, we explore the mysteries of China-
town. It is as dark as Erebus ; only the light of our
one solitary dip flickers in our eyes ; we feel as though
there is something weird and ghastly clinging to our-
selves, for our voices have a smothered, hollow sound,
even to our own ears. No one really knows how far
these human gophers have burrowed underground ;
they wander, it seems, from one living grave to an-
other ; perhaps to avoid taxation, the assassin, or the
grip of the law. It is a dismal city of refuge for lost
souls.
If Dante could have cast his sorrowful eyes into
these dark regions, he would have found here an
appalling reality which outstrips the imaginary horrors
with which he has illustrated his Inferno. We gather
up our skirts and pick our way slowly, for the ground
is slippery with Heaven knows what, and the walls
are reeking with black slime, the odour is horrible,
and everywhere there is an accumulation of filth which
ought to breed fever and death, but does not. We
suddenly turn into another of these narrow galleries ;
on either side are mangy-looking curtains, some par-
tially closed, some open ; the ceiling is so low we can
almost touch it standing on tiptoe, yet on either side
there are two tiers of hard wooden boards, divided by
a slight partition into sections, each being large enough
for two occupants, and every bunk is full. This is one
of the numerous opiiim dens. Some are preparing the
enchanting poison — a tedious process, which reminds
one of an incantation scene ; the two lie face to face,
A WORLD UNDERGROUND.
181
chatting in low voices, a look of delicious anticipation
glowing in every feature ; they recline at full length,
their heads reposing upon blocks of wood or roughly
improvised straw pillows ; a small lamp flickers be-
tween them ; their long pipes are of bamboo cane ;
at the lower end of the stem is an earthen bowl ; a
jar of opium, a kind of thick, black paste, stands close
to the lamp ; the smokers dip a wire into this paste and
then hold it in the flame till the particles of paste
which cling to it fizzes and bubbles ; it is then de-
posited on the rim of the pipe-bowl, and the smoker
at once inhales three or four whiffs, which empties the
pipe, and the process of refilling is renewed. It is
evidently a labour of love with them, for their eyes
glisten and gloat upon the bubbling drug. They take
no heed of us ; we are mere mortals, they are far
on the road to paradise. Their talk grows gradually
less and less, feebler and feebler ; their low laughter
has a delirious sound ; their eyes are filled with a
dreamy light, but their lips are glued to that magic
tube; they are rapidly floating away to a land we
know not of ; their fingers relax their hold ; . they sink
back upon their pillows and are suddenly silent ; their
dusky faces ashen pale, having the look of some plague-
stricken corpse : this one pair of opium-smokers repre-
sents the many. We drop the curtain and pass on,
making our observations as we go. Some have had
their delirious dream and are sluggishly stirring,
slowly awakening back to life, and with wan, haggard
faces stagger out of the dingy den into open day ;
' some flit past us like ghostly shadows, wandering-
through the shades of Hades ; they glide along shrink-
ing against the wall, and stare at us with lack-lustre
182
TUROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
eyes, mere spectres of humanity, not humanity itself.
But when such men as William Blair, Bichard Baxter,
De Quincey, Coleridge, and others become victims to
the habit of opium-eating, what wonder is it that an
enslaved and degraded race should rush into a tem-
porary world of dreams and enjoy its delirious delights,
little heeding of the thraldom eternal and immutable
which will follow their awakening ?
This terrible drug (which, for a time, fills the brain
with feverish dreams of ecstatic delight, but is the sure
forerunner of unimaginable horrors and agonizing
death) lies within the reach of all. One of the most
celebrated opium-eaters tells us that " happiness may
be bought for a penny and carried in the waistcoat
pocket, portable ecstasies may be had corked up in
a pint bottle, and peace of mind may be sent out in
gallons by the mail-coach." In some parts of India
opium is taken by the criminal condemned to death. If
he can only get his brain filled with opium fumes he
may be said to die happy. We grope our way through
this Inferno, obscured by the dense smoke of the
poisonous drug, and are glad to breathe the fresh air of
heaven once more.
Then we pass on to the women's quarter. The
Chinese rarely, very rarely bring their wives or
families across the water; but they import large
numbers of female slaves of the most degraded class,
and for the most immoral purposes. These poor
creatures have no sense of degradation, no knowledge
of morality, they but fulfil the condition they are born
to. So loosely, indeed, are social and domestic ties
held by these people, that if a wife displeases her
husband, or a child her parent, they have the right,
A WORLD UNDERGROUND.
183
and frequently exercise it, too, to sell either one or
other to some trafficker in human kind, and take the
profits as in any other mercantile transaction. A
sense of dignity or family pride prevents the higher
class of Chinese from entering into this sale or barter
business. They have other ways of disposing of their
surplus womankind.
We entered a long narrow court with tall, dark
houses on either side, so tall they seemed to shut out
the skies ; but in this confined space are domiciled
twelve hundred of these females slaves, for slaves they
are still, though sojourning in a free laud, and by the
law free agents, but the law is powerless to reach them.
They are held in bondage by their own people and by
the laws of their own nation, which no good Celestial,
especially a woman, would dare to call in question.
They have no thought of any higher state. If^ by
chance, as sometimes, though rarely happens, a creditor
appeals to the United States law to settle his affairs, no
matter what decision is given it is sure to be set aside
by their own tribunal, and the prosecutor has reason to
bewail his temerity in daring to appeal to any other.
In all cases, whether of murder or lesser criminalities
among themselves, they are examined, tried, con-
demned, and their punishment, be it torture or death,
is carried out by their own secret tribunal, whose
laws are to us a sealed book, and whose councils liere
are held in some hidden underground spot that we
know not of.
We picked our way through the dingy, deserted
court, for though it was the women's quarter, there
was not a woman to be seen. Some were evidently
indulging in social festivities, for the sound of the
]84
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
gong, rasping fiddles, and screeching voices broke
upon the silence of the night. Shddowy forms, like
creatures from another world, stole by us with their
noiseless tread and disappeared in the doorways on
either side. We grope our way along by the light of
our one solitary dip, and become suddenly awar§ of a
dim light falling across our pathway. We look round
and observe an open grating about a foot square, and
framed therein is the face of a Chinese belle. There
she is precisely as we see her on our fans and tea-trays,
her hair dressed in wings or fancy rolls and pinned
with gilt pins, and profusely decorated with paper
flowers of various colours, one half of her face being
painted a bright vermilion in one blotch, beginning
from the chin, covering the eyebrows, and reaching back
to the ear. On either side were the same gratings,
with the same painted beauties behind them.
We went our way through the silent moonlight
with a strange, weird feeling falling over us, as though
we had been wandering in dreamland, or living
through the misty pages of tho " Arabian Nights."
( 185 )
CHAPTER XYIII.
CHINESE AMUSEMENTS.
Gambling Dens — Theatres— An Acrobatio Performance — New-
Year's Visits— The Bride— -The Hoodlum— A Scare— The
Matron's Pretty Feet.
Gambling is another of the favourite vices of the
Chinese, and is popularly indulged in by all classes,
though it is strictly forbidden by the United States
laws ; but the evasion of legal authority is mere child's
play to them. These numerous gambling dens are so
carefully guarded that only the private police (some of
whom, I am told, are in the pay of the Celestial
authorities, and when gold dust is thrown in the eyes
who can help blinking ?) can ferret them out, and only
then on rare occasions and with great difficulty.
So great is their passion for games of chance that
they will sell or pledge anything to obtain the means
to indulge in it. Not only are cards, dice, and domi-
noes used, but straws, sticks, brass rings, etc., are
thrown upon a table, or on a mat upon the ground,
while silent, eager faces crowd round, and the fate of
the players literally hangs upon a breath. There are
a hundred of these establishments under the eyes of
the police. Some of them employ private spies to
warn them in case of danger ; but these places are
186
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LAXDR.
seldom raided Ijy the police, for they know it is almost
imposslhle to storm the barriers in time to catch de-
linquents in the act. On the first sign of danger a
warning signal is sounded throughout the building,
and a sudden change seems to take plnce in the gro^md
plan ; passages are shut off; the pursuer, rushing along
the winding ways he thought he knew, finds himself in
a blind alley ; a mysterious sliding.-panel takes the
place of a door, or he rushes into the suspected cham-
ber, — he is fooled again ! He finds nothing there, only
a harmless Celestial, smiling and bland, most inno-
cently employed making a cup of tea ! Every sign of
guilt is swept away. The arcli hypocrite knew the
enemy was coming long before he had time to appear.
Dramatic performances, too, are a passion with the
Chinese. In a space of half a mile there are no less
than four theatres, though there is nothing to dis-
tinguish these places of amusement from the general
run of houses except the scarlet hieroglyphics which are
pasted on the doorposts and a row of paper lanterns
over the doorway ; sometimes a flag flutters from the
balcony. A discordant din of gongs, tin trumpets,
and squeaking fiddles wanders out into the street.
Celestial economy of space follows us even here.
AVithin a few feet of the entrance door a moon-laced
Mongolian sits receiving custom, fifty cents for ad-
mission the beginning of the evening, the charge
dwin'^^Hng down to five cents as the hours roll on. A
paper curtain was lifted aside, we ascended a flight of
dirty stairs, and were at once ushered into our box,
which had been previously secured for us ; once seated
therein, we proceeded to survey the scene at our leisure.
The house was crowded from floor to rafter. It is
CHINESE AMUSEMENTS.
187
divided into two parts, the pit or parqiiette, which
slopes upward from the footlights to the back of the
house; above that is a gallery, which extends over
and seems ready to fall on the heads of those below, and
rises steadily backwards till the last row of Mongolian
heads seems to touch the ceiling. On one side are
three private boxes, if they can be called private, for
they are simply partitioned off, breast high, from the
rest of the gallery ; these are reserved for the use of the
more distinguished visitors. On the opposite si<le a
similar portion of the gallery is partitioned off for the
use of the women, for even in this (the only recreation
the poor creatures seem to have) they are not allowed
to participate with their lords and masters. The par-
titions in all cases are so low that every one is in full
view of the rest of the house. There is no attem])t at
ornamentation anywhere ; the walls are whitewashed ;
benches, etc., are all of the roughest description. The
stage is merely a raised platform, with a few wooden
steps on either side, up and down which actors and
audience are constantly passing; there is no scenery,
no decoration of any kind. The musicians are seated
at the back of the stage, and on either side is a cur-
tained doorway, through which the entrances and
exits are made. No drop-scene falls between the acts,
and there is no attempt at realization anywhere ; no
regard is paid to the fitness of things. Say there is a
wedding, a battle, and a death ; the priestly cortege
walks out at one door, the warriors enter at another,
each whirling one leg as he leaps from an imaginary
horse ; there is a tremendous uproar and they dash at
once 7'"to the fray. The musicians in the background
are pounding away at their discordant instruments,
188
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
each making as much noise as he can with no regard
whatever to rule or rhythm, while one invincible hero
with a pasteboard sword keeps a whole army at bay.
He slays them by scores, but as fast as they are slain
they get up, run round to the back, and begin the
fight over again. At last the hero is overpowered ; a
hundred swords pierce him to the heart, he is trampled
on, and he goes through all the contortions of a
horrible death ; then gets up, smiles, nods at the
audience, and conquerors and conquered crowd off the
stage together.
At the moment we entered a battle royal was going
on ; the noise was deafening ; we had been warned of
this, and plugged our ears with cotton-wool, but that
was slight protection ; the waves of sound struck upon
the drums of our ears till our brains seemed to feel the
blows, and our heads ached distractedly.
It was a strange sight — that mass of shaven faces,
their slant eyes fixed with intense earnestness on the
stage, revelling with solemn delight in the ludicrous
performance. They never applaud, they never con-
demn ; but sit stolidly smoking. The women, too,
indulge in the fragrant weed, and largely patronize
the seller of sugar-cane and sweetmeats, who stalks
about the house with a basketful of these dainties on
his head, but makes no sound, utters no invitation
to buy. The battle was succeeded by a domestic dis-
turbance of the most uncelestial character ; the wife
ran about the stage screeching like a wild cat, her
indignant lord pursuing her with furious threats and
grimaces, leaping over invisible chairs and tables.
At last a window was brought in ; she rushed behind
it, and so made an imaginary escape from his fury ;
CHINESE AMUSEMENTS.
189
being so far safe, she leant out, Juliet-fashion, he
making frantic attempts to get at her ; and they
rehearsed their difficulties with an accompaniment of
gongs and fiddles, their screeching voices reminding
us forcibly of a wrangling duet between two irate tom-
cats on the back tiles. This was succeeded by a half-
military, half-acrobatic performance. First a warrior
entered with a wild moustache and grey -green beard,
marvellous to behold ; his nose and ears were painted
white, with black rolling eyes, and altogether a most
ferocious aspect. He flung his sword up in the air,
whirled round on one leg, shook his fist menacingly,
as though defying some one to mortal combat. His
challenge was accepted. A score of warriors entered,
surrounded him, shook their swords, and rushed about
as though in the fury of battle. Soon their arms were
flung aside. They had evidently changed their minds,
and the warfare resolved itself into an acrobatic display.
They twirled round like dancing dervishes, leapt into
the air, made two or three somersaults, rolled themselves
into balls, fell and rebounded from the floor like india-
rubber. They turned like wheels upon the ground, or
spun like tops in the air. So rapid were their move-
ments the eye could scarcely follow them. One weird,
half-naked figure, with his face and body painted in
stripes of diff"erent colours, went through the most won-
derful contortions. He tied his legs round his neck,
leaped high in the air and came down upon his elbows,
walked on his head without the use of arms or legs,
rolled himself into a knot and flung himself into the
air. Having gone through sundry other evolutions
too complicated to mention — indeed, having done
everything but turn himself inside out — he left ofi*.
100
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
These performances are supposed to lighten and
vary the dramatic representation, which generally lasts
six or eight weeks, giving two or three acts every night.
On the occasion of the Chinese New Year, which
fell in early February, we accompanied a friend to pay
a ceremonious visit to some wealthy Chinese merchants,
with whom he had been in the habit of transacting
business. It was a general visiting day, when every-
body belonging to the flowery kingdom called on
everybody else. All the streets in Chinatown were
gaily decorated with flowers, flags, and paper lanterns ;
gongs . were beating, cymbals clashing, and fiddles
scraping in every direction ; the streets were thronged
with moon-faced Celestials in gala dress, all pricked
out and polished fresh from the hands of the barber.
Our first visit was to Ki Chow, one of the leading
merchants of San Francisco. We descended from the
street, as usual, and found ourselves in a large cellar
filled with benches and forms ; a fire was burning in one
corner, where cooking was being carried on. This was
where Ki Chow's employes fed. Leading out of this was
his private apartment, which contained a few rough
wooden seats, a worm-eaten desk, and two tables, fur-
nished on this occasion with an elaborately chased silver
service, goblets, tankards, etc., and a display of cut glass
of rare antique shapes, ornamented with gold and crim-
son ; decanters filled with choice wines, trays and
filigree baskets with cakes and sweetmeats. On one
table was a hideous figure of a favourite Joss, before
whom a light was burning. Sweets, wines, and other
good things were placed before him for his godship's
special entertainment. The liberal ana dainty display
on the other non-illuminated table was for our mortal
CHINESE AMUSEMENTS.
191
gratification. We were compelled by Chinese etiquette
to take a tiny toy glass of wine, which we cautiously
sipped, it being a foreign production, and as our host
informed us, " velly stlong " ; it was rich, luscious, and
of a peculiar flavour. " It velly good, it made of lice,"
said Ki Chow, the loss of the unpronounceable " r " in
this case giving the announcement a peculiar cha-
racter. He next passed round tiny blue willow-
patterned plates, containing cake covered with red
cabalistic characters, dried fruits, nuts, candied water-
melon, and numerous unknown uninviting compounds
of a gelatinous nature. The fruits and candies were
very good ; the oily cakes we could not bring ourselves
to touch. Ki Chow invited us into the cellar adjoining,
which was his bedroom ; it contained a bed with
silken hangings, chairs, and a table decorated with a
vase of blooming flowers, which seemed sorely out of
place in this dingy stifling nook, lighted only, like a
prison, from a grating along the top. Ki's wardrobe
was strung up on a line overhead. He was evidently
proud of his bachelor quarters. He nodded, smiled,
and volunteered the information —
" Me have tlee wives, all gone back to China ;
when they here, me have big house."
On our expressing a desire to see a Chinese lady,
he offered to present us to a friend who had lately
married and brought his wife to San Francisco. We
accepted the invitation, and accompanied him fo Wong
How's forthwith. It was a large roomy house in
Sacramento Street; the entrance-door was on the latch
as usual, and we ascended a flight of cleanly swept
stairs to the first floor ; one tap at the door and it was
opened by a most majestic-looking Chinese gentleman,
192 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
very handsomely dressed in blue silk and gold em-
broidery.
He received us with high-bred courtesy, with a
layer of formality on the top of his politeness ; he spoke
in the purest English we had heard from Mongolian
lips. This apartment was very handsomely furnished,
with quaintly carved ebony chairs, and lounges and
tables beautifully inlaid in the finest style of Chinese
art, some with gold filigree, others with ivory or
tortoise-shell, and the windows were draped with
curtains of gorgeously embroidered silk. Here, too,
were tables spread, one for the god, one for the visitors.
We had scarcely seated ourselves when other
visitors began to a,rrive in quick succession, one after
the other, and host and guests salaamed and saluted
each other in true Oriental fashion, lifting the two
hands to their foreheads, and bending lower and lower
till their heads almost touched the ground ; then
followed handshaking, and a babble of poft, liquid
tongues, evidently exchanging cordial good wishes.
We inquired for the lady.
" Oh ! she come plesentiy ; she flightened ; me
only mallied tlee months, and she ne /er seen no more
man but me ; to-day she bling coffee and sweets for
evelybody ; it is our custom fol a wife to wait on her
husband's flicnds once in evely year ; she never see
man other times."
In a few minutes the poor little bride entered,
bearing a silver tray filled with little cups of the
national beverage. She was gorgeously dressed in
pink silk, trimmed with silver embroidery, interspersed
with pearls, her hair bowed and puffed, and decorated
with pins and flowers, according to the fashion of her
CHINESE AMUSEMEXTS.
193
people. She was leaning on two waiting-maids, who
had much ado to support her tottering steps between
them. She was painfully shy, and trerahled, so that
the cups and sa^ 3rs rattled on the tray, and kept her
eyes fixed upon the ground, trying to screen her face
with a large feather fan ; but we could see her lips
quiver, and the deep blushes that dyed her face and
neck contrasted with the red paint upon her cheeks.
We compassionated her distress too much to keep her
long under our gaze, and having received our empty
cups upon the tray, she was scurrying off in a great
hurry to get out of sight, but was somewhat harshly
recalled by her lord, and more dead than alive, blushing
and trembling more than before, she dragged herself
across the room to serve her master's friends as any
other slave would have done.
" She velly pletty," remarked Wong How con-
fidentially to me, as the poor creature shuffled off the
scene. Of course we contributed our share of admi-
ration, and her owner coolly said ; " Me got two more
like that in China."
We were the only Europeans present, and while we
were gathering scraps of information from our host,
the door opened and some rakish-looking young hood-
lums, the special production of San Francisco, being
a cross between the French gamin and the English
rough, half entered the room, exclaiming with a jaunty,
patronizing air —
" " How are you, John ? We've come to pay you a
morning call ; hope you're glad to see us." Our host
stepped forward with much dignity, saying —
" Excuse me, I have ladies here." The intruders
at this moment caught sight of us, snatched off their
194
THROUGH CITIKS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
caps, and with some half-uttered apology beat a hasty
retreat. A number of cigars and a quantity of sweets,
which they had no doubt purloined from some other
"John," rolled out of their hate upon the floor, and
they never stopped to picK them up, Wong How
secured the door from further intrusion.
We were listening to the chatter and watching the
collection of dark expressionless faces, when Ki Chow's
countenance suddenly changed ; an unearthly pallor
overspread his face; he lifted his finger with a rapid
motion. " Come ! " he exclaimed, as he flew to the door
and descended the stairs, we following as fast as our
feet could carry us. Arrived in the street, we hurried
after Ki Chow and inquired " What was the matter ?
What had occasioned his sudden flight ? He had not
even given us time to exchange parting civilities with
his friends ! " By this time Ki had recovered his usual
equanimity ; he turned upon us a face smiling and
bland ; innocent and unconscious as a child he ex-
claimed —
" Me no understand. Me takee see other lady."
W^hat it was that caused our sudden retreat we shall
never know\ It must have been something serious,
for I shall never forget the horror-struck expression
of Ki Chow's face. Until that moment he had most
deferentially made way for us to precede him ; then,
he had flown down the stairs, his blouse and pigtail
flying behind him, merely calling to us " Come ! "
The " other lady," to whom he now introduced us,
was a matron of five years' standing ; a relative of
bis, I believe. We found her in a similarly handsome
apartment to that we had just left, attended by two
mriids, who stood behind her and only moved to assist
CHINESF AMUSEMENTS.
195
O
3t
her in rising or walking. At her loot was a quaint
little bit of living China, a miniature man, pigtail
included, frolicking among his toy-gods and tin soldiers.
He stared at us with his beady black eyes and retreated
behind his mamma, who rose up saying —
" How you do ? Me velly well." She shook hands
and invited us to be seated. She spoke a little English,
giggled a good deal, seemed pleased with our admira-
tion of her clothes and of herself (for she was as
gorgeously apparelled as the other), and appeared
ready and willing to gratify our curiosity so far as
she was able. We examined the gold ornaments she
wore upon her arms and neck, and the huge hoops in
her ears. Her outer dress was of light blue, artistically
and richly embroidered with silk, the colours beauti-
fully blended together. We picked up her long loose
sleeve and counted six dresses which she wore one over
the other, all of different-coloured silks ; they were so
soft that the whole together did not seem much thicker
than half a dozen layers of tissue-paper ! We ex-
amined her complicated head-dress, which was quite
an architectural trophy, so greased and waxed and
strained, such wings on one side, such plastered puffs
on the other. We inquired how much time was daily
spent in the arrangement.
" Me no dless evely day. Me takee down in tlee
or four days, and doee up again."
" How do you lie down ? how do you sleep ? " we
inquired. She despatched a maid for her pillow — a
round block of wood, covered with silk — which she
placed at the back of her neck.
" Me sleep so, allee same so." A novel way of
taking rest.
196
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
We showed her our big feet; she showed us her
little feet, i.e. a small misshapen hoof. We had
always believed that the Chinese ladies really had
small baby-feet, which had never been allowed to
grow ; but Ki Chow informed us that they never
meddle with the feet till the child is from six to eight
years old, when they gather the toes together and
twist them under the foot, then bind them with strong
ligatures, which on no pretence whatever are loosened
or taken off for two years, the whole of which time
the child is, of course, undergoing great torture.
" Me have two little girls in China," said Ki Chow,
coolly. " My wife lite me word she makeo tlem pletty
feet now, and they cly, cly, all night, all day, alleo
same, till two years gone."
It would be curious to inquire how this barbarous
custom first obtained, and how long, in these days
when enlightenment is creeping into the heart of
China, it will be permitted to endure.
( 197 )
CHAPTER XIX.
CHRISTMAfl ON A CALIFORNIAN RANCHE.
Old Friends — The Ranche — Christinas Day — Salinas Valley —
A Magic City — A Californian Sunset.
Christmas has come. So the almanac tells us, but we
can scarcely accept the fact, Christmas being associated,
in our minds, with frost and snow, fogs and rain, which
seem so far away now we feel as though the damp,
chill atmosphere could never enfold us again. Here
we look from our windows on a bright, simlit scene,
where the tall, green palms stand fair and stately in
the city gardens, and calla lilies lift their fair faces to
be kissed by the sun. The skies are intensely blue,
and the breeze clear, cool, and invigorating as the
breath of our own spring mornings. Every day we
say, " This is the finest we have ever seen," but the
morrow comes and brings with it another as lovely as
the last. Our thoughts fly homeward, as, indeed, they
often do. We know that the sleet is beating against
the windows, the bleak wind tearing through the
streets, whistling through every crevice, chilling the
marrow of those who are shivering at the fireside,
while the world without is lying stiff and rigid in its
shroud of winter snow. We think of the friends who
108
TUROUGII CITIKS AND rRAIRIE LANDS.
have been so long and so dearly associatetl with this
season. The cliarmed circle was broken " A year and
more agone ! " Since then link by link h.as dropped,
familiar faces have faded into shadowy memories. One
after another, they have followed rapidly " into the
silent land," " the hind of the great departed," till this
world seems to be growing empty and the next filling
so fast we feel we shall scarcely be sorry when the
order conies for us to " move on " and join them.
But here the sun is shining, and somehow, in spite
of the leaden weight upon our spirits, there is some-
thing in this health-laden air that stirs the spirit and
sets the pulse of life flowing as in its first springtide ;
and, though we know the autumn of life is upon us
and the winter may not be far oif, ready to sprinkle its
last snows upon our heads and write finis to our life's
history, yet our hearts grow lighter and rise, as though
inflated with this brilliant atmosphere, till we feel like
floating away in the sunshine. After all, the living
must march ever onward, and leave the dead days
mouldering behind them.
We loved the city which our new friends had made
so pleasant to us, but we were not sorry to pack up
and leave it for a while. We were going to spend the
Christmas on a Californian ranche with some old
friends who were closely connected with the " days
that are bygone," but who had been living in the wild
part of this Western world for the last five-and-twenty
years. No doubt we each expected the other to be
changed past recognition ; for my part, I thought to
find the dashing young officer,' who had borne himself
so bravely during the Russian campaign, developed,
through agricultural association and pursuits, into a
CHRISTMAS ON A OALIFORMAN KANCHK. 11)1)
Californiiiu farmer, somewhat lanky about the lower
limbs, hollow-cheeked, and with the soft and by no
means unpleasant drawl of the native Californian. 1
do not. know why I was so strong-ly impressed with
this imaginary portrait, for, since my advent into the
S'ate, my preconceived opinions concerning it had
undergone a rapid transition ; things were so different
from what I had expected ; even the Californian drawl
had dwindled into a thing more imaginary than real.
We leave San Frjincisco on Christmas Kve, a bril-
liant, sunshiny day, and take our seats in the cars of
the South Pacific Railway, with a protest against the
heat, for, December being a winter month according
to the division of time, the stoves are lighted at either
end of the car ; the blinds are closed to keep out the
burning rays of the sun, but they keep in the stifling-
hot air of the stoves till the crowded car becomes
uncomfortably close and warm. Tlie rest of the pas-
sengers sit and bake in uncomplaining calm ; to us the
suffocating air grows unendurable ; we get out and sit
upon the steps of the rear platform, and are whirled
along through pretty home scenery at the -not espe-
cially rapid rate of twenty miles an hour. We have
not long been in possession of this position when a
polite brakesman taps me on the shoulder.
" Sorry to interrupt you, ma'am, but you see whnt's
written there," he said, pointing to a warning above
the car door.
I look up and shake my head with the blank
ignorance of the " heathen Chinee." " I can't read,"
I say. *
He translates the sentence : " Passengers are
strictly foi'bidden to stand on the platforms."
200
THROUGH CITIKS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
" Ah! but we fire not standing," I exclaim, exult-
ingly, " and there is no prohibition against sitting^
He smiles, vanquished, and leaves us in possession of
the field.
After a run of about four hours, we steam into
Salinas station. But few passengers alight. The
generality are going to places beyond. We had
scarcely time to step out upon the platform and
glance round, when the only occupant thereof— -a tall,
stutely gentleman — came hurriedly towards us, and,
in unmistakable British accents, welcomed us most
cordially. The tones of the well-remembered voice
came back to me like the melody of an old song that
has slept in the memory for years and is awakened
suddenly by a new singer in a new land. A bridge
seemed to be flung over the gap of time, and we old
friends met as though we had parted but yesterday.
Yes ; we had both changed. I had developed from a
mere thread paper to — but no man (or woman either)
is bound to criminate him or herself. He had grown
from a rather languid, delicate young fellow to a
strong, stalwart man, broad-cliested, with muscles and
biceps which warranted him to come off only second
best in a tussle with a grizzly ; the fine-featured face
was bronzed and full, but the smile and the kind
brown eyes were still the same. lie pointed out to
us the ranche as we bowled over the rough, uneven
road. It is about three miles distant from Salinas,
and, bv.ing situated in the flat, extensive valley, it was
visible from tlie moment we left the station behind us.
The tall, substantial windmill which surmounts the
waterworks, and the numerous white adobe buildings
gathered round the main dwelling-house, give it the
CHUISTMAS ON A CALIFORMAN RANCUE.
201
appearance of a pretty rural village lying sleepily in
the sunshine.
The Valley of Salinas itself is neither pretty nor
interesting. It is about twenty miles long and pro-
portionately wide. The land is rich and productive,
and every rood is well under cultivation; but we miss
the beautiful green hedges which divide the fields and
border the pleasant country lanes in the old country.
Here there is no such luxuriant landmark ; not a bush,
not a tree to be seen ; nothing but the wide, level
plain surrounded by a perfect amphitheatre of hills
and mountains covered with dark pine or sombre fir
trees. Occasionally, we are told, their bald heads are
covered with snow, which is rarely known to reach the
valley below.
The ranche stands some distance from the roadway,
and is approached by a long, wide avenue. On either
side are planted rows of trees, which don't seem in-
clined to grow ; they look weird and sickly, and,
though they have been coaxed .'uid nursed in the best
agricultural fashion, they will not put on their dress
of luxuriant green ; they look dismal and melancholy,
as though they wanted to expand into respectable,
shady trees, but have not the heart to do it ; tliey seem
to feel the cruel gopher feeding on their roots and
sending the poisoned sap through their tender veins.
This is the third year this experiment has been tried
and failed, as it is failing now.
We drive through this avenue and through an old-
fashioned, arched, adobe gateway into ;in open court-
yard. On one side is a collection of adobe buildings,
the dwelling-places of former inhabitants, but which
are n(>w used as barns or lumber-sheds, and are the
202
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE I,ANDS.
sleeping-places for the farm labourers. On another side
is a low range of adobe rooms or houses, comfortably
fitted up, where some of the male members of the
family sleep. On the left-hand side is the family
residence, a comfortable frame house, two storeys high,
which was sent out from England years ago, and, after
travelling half the world over, was planted in that far-
away corner of the Western world. It is arranged
and furnished in every way according to the require-
ments of a refined and cultivated English family. A
large hall has been added to the main building, forty
feet long by twenty wide, with a great, old-fashioned
bay-window at one end, looking out in a sweet, wild
wilderness of a flower-garden. A wide chimney, with
andirons, whereon pine logs are plentifully laid, ready
for kindling, is on one side, a piano stands opposite,
cosy rocking chairs, and other signs of a comfortable
home life are scattered round the hearth ; a long table
runs down the centre of the hall, which is generally
used as a dining-room when the family is increased by
guests who, like ourselves, find always a welcome at
the ranche, and come not in " single spies, but in
battalions." The laundry stands in a corner of the
courtyard, opposite the gateway, and the dairy in a
field beyond. We received a cordial welcome from
the ladies of the family. A collection of pretty girls
and fine, manly young fellows, the sons and daughters
of the house, came out into the courtyard to meet us.
It was a pleasant sight, that father and mother, still in
the prime of life, with their unbroken circle of bloom-
ing girls and sturdy boys around them — cliildren of
the Old World taking root in the soil of the New. I
found my host was more British than ever. So far
CHRISTMAS OX A CALIFORXIAN RANCHE.
203
from his interests and sympathies with the Old World
languishing or lessening from his long sojourn in this
far-away land, they were keener than ever ; he marches
side by side with us in all social questions, and is
more thoroughly conversant with political matters,
both at home and abroad, than many who are in our
midst. Papers, magazines, pamphlets find their way
from the heart of London to the core of the Western
world. We found the daughters of the house purely
English in thought, tone, and feeling, all their aspira-
tions rising towards the old laud, and their longings
turning thitherward, while the sons seemed as purely
American in theirs.
Behind the ranche, and as it were keeping guard
over it, rises Gapilan Peak, the highest and loveliest
of all that mountain range. It seemed so near to us
that I proposed a morning scramble and luncheon on
the top, but I was speedily informed that it would take
a long day, of pretty rough travelling too, to climb the
rugged mountain sides, and would necessitate spending
a night on the summit, from which, however, could be
seen a most glorious sunrise. This sounded romantic,
but I had no desire to taste the doubtful delight. We
occupied the principal guest chamber, which had no
actual communication with the house, but opened on to
a wide verandah, which led down through a deliciously
wild garden direct to the woods. As we lay in our
beds at night we could hear the coyotes come howling-
down from the wilderness, but the deep bay of our
good watch-dogs speedily chased them oft' the premises.
We had no fear of tramps or stragglers, for we had
gallant defenders near, with guns and rifles loaded.
On Christmas Day there was a frost, and the ponds
I
204
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
were covered with a coating of ice. They said we had
brought an English Christmas into the midst of the
sunlands. Such a thing as frost and snow had not
been known there for twenty years. A clear, cold,
frosty air, blue skies, and a blazing sun roused us early
in the morning, and on descending to the breakfast-
room we found pretty souvenirs of Aballone jewelry,
peculiar to California, beside our plates, and the Chinese
servants had presented the members of the family with
some native toy, according to their custom.
At dinner the large family circle was increased by
the advent of some solitary friends and neighbours.
We were merry and sad and glad together. We
thought of those who were gone, but we talked of
those who remained. Our host proposed " The Old
Country." I think there was a tug at our hearts, and
our voices were scarcely steady as we rose with one
accord and accepted it. I presently whispered a name
which was caught up and echoed from one end of the
table to the other — " With love and greetings across
the sea." Then somebody suggested that " Rule
Britannia" would be appropriate for an after-dinner
melody as we gathered round the blazing pine fire.
Forthwith that lady commenced ruling "the waves,"
and I don't think she ever performed that ceremony
with more true and loyal hearts around her. We were
all feeling ridiculously patriotic. We grumble when
we are at home, and are severe on the fixults and fail-
ings of our Motherland ; we pick holes in her best
coat, and find flaws in her finest policy. But when
we are away, and thousands of miles of land and sea
divide us from her, — well, she might beat us with her
trident and we'd forgive her !
CHRISTMAS ON A CALIFORXIAN RAXCHE.
205
• We passed a delightful time with this interesting
family. We all had our own opinions, and strong
ones too. We drove about the country, or roamed
through the woods all day, and in the evening
gathered round the fire (for it was cooler here than
in the city), and discussed ourselves and our American
cousins. We picked one another to pieces, and put
ourselves together again, amid much fun and laughter,
and a tolerable amount of fairness on both sides.
^e had often heard our host alluded to in the local
papers as " the Big Bug of Salinas ; " a strange phrase,
which sounded to us of the offensively facetious
order, but it was not so held by the inhabitants of
the place ; by them it is employed quite as a title
of honour, and applied to one whom all the towns-
folk held in the highest esteem. It is no wonder
that the people of Salinas paid this tribute of respect
to our host, for he was the founder of their city, and
it is entirely owing to his enterprise and judicious
management that it has grown to be the important
place it is. Twelve years ago the Salinas Valley was
a vast uncultivated plain, with two wretched tumble-
down Spanish villages — Natividad and Santa Rita, —
both of the most miserable description, which are
settled in one corner of it. He chanced to be passing
through this lovely tract of country, where a winding
river trailed its silver waters ; numbers of waggon
trains and other traffic passed along this valley on the
way to Monterey and other settlements on the coast,
and he thought it would be an admirable site for a
halting-place. To think was to act. He bought an
extensive tract of land, consisting of many thousand
acres, selected an appropriate spot, and stakecj out lots
iiJvS
..mi
200 Tnnouan cities and prairie lands.
for streets, churches, public buildings, etc., and adver-
tised them for sale in all the Californian and many other
papers. His venture met with entire success ; the lots
were bought up and building commenced with great
rapidity, p.nd the place has now developed into a city
of between three and four thousand inhabitants, with
numerous aids to religion in the way of churches,
a bank, a town hall, and even a prison, which was
occupied on the occasion of our visit by a handsome
horse-stealer and a predatory Chinaman. The former
was stretched upon his straw pallet reading a recent
copy of the Atlantic Monthly. The city of Salinas is in
a most flourishing condition ; building is still going
on, and as the wind blows fresh faces thitherward
it promises to double its present numbers before many
years are past. The whole of the valley, as I have
said before, is in a state of high cultivation. There are
several flourishing farms and extensive fields of grain.
Opposite our entrance gate is a cornfield more than
two miles long.
We soon exhausted the beauty of Salinas Valley,
but could not so easily exhaust the hospitality of our
friends, who resolved to escort us on a tour to
Monterey, one of the oldest Spanish settlements along
the coast, where there are still the remains of a most
interesting mission built a century ago. We are to
start in the morning, and we go out to take a last
evening stroll, escorted by all the young folk of the
family, one of whom, a young gentleman aged seven,
proves an heroic acquisition. He marches in front
of us, runs after the squirrels, chases the gophers into
their holes, pelts the pigs out of our path, and at last
compels an advancing corps of cattle to turn tail and
CHRISTMAS ON A CALIFORNIAN RANCHE.
207
run, while we take shelter from their criimpled horns
behind a gatepost.
The sun sinks rapidly behind the hills, and leaves
the Western hemisphere aglow with golden light, with
feathery plumes of crimson, isles of amber, and pale
amethyst cloudlets floating therein, changing nnd
amalgamating their gorgeous hues, till they form one
brilliant cavalcade of coloured glory. Long after the
sun has departed the skies retain their brightest blue ;
slowly the trailing skirts of the twilight cover them,
and we take a last look at the mountains shrouded
in the purple mist peculiar to the Californian climate,
which for the time gives them a mysterious airy
appearance, as though they were growing in cloudland
rather than on this solid earth of ours. In the glow-
ing daylight this airy drapery is invisible ; it is only
seen when the shades of evening begin to fall.
208
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XX.
IN THE VALLEY OF CARMELO.
Monterey — The Ruins of the Mission — The Spanish Inhabitants
of the Old Town— The Moss Beach— The Lighthouse- -The
Pebbly Pescadero — Grood-bye.
We reach Monterey in the cool of the evening. A
queer, tumble-down Spanish town lyinj^ close along
the sea-shore. One or tw^ fishermen are trailing their
nets on the face of the water, and some fishing-smacks,
with their brown, patched sails, are anchored in the
bay, and are rocked so gently by the waves they seem
to be coquetting with their own shadows. Not much
more than a century ago a host of Spanish vessels
sailed into this now lonely and deserted harbour, their
colours flying, their decks crowded with soldiers,
sailors, priests, and nuns. Here they landed in search
of a good site whereon to found a mission for their
priestly labours. They stationed themselves on an
elevated point about two miles from the sea ; there the
labour of love began. They built a presidio for the
soldiers to protect the fathers from the native Indians.
Every man who had hands to work devoted himself to
the cause, and laboured till the church and mission
buildings were completed. All that part of the
IN THE VALLEY OF CARMELO.
209
country was taken possession of in the name of the
King of Spain, and the work of conversion began.
The ceremony was performed with a blare of trumpets,
beating of drums, and salvos of artillery, calling out an
army of echoes from the surrounding hills and moun-
tains. The poor Indians were at first dazed with the
display of tawdry magnificence and frightened at the
thundering sounds which shook the air and seemed to
make the solid earth tremble beneath their feet ; but
by degrees they approached, and then learned that this
wonderful expedition was organized expressly for their
benefit. Peace in this world and glory in the next
was freely promised them. The gates of Paradise
were opened before them ; they had nothing to do but
walk in and take possession. Scores were converted
every day ; they bowed down before the altar. The
acolytes swung the incense, the fathers preached and
chanted in an unknown tongue, the nuns, from behind
their grated gallery, lifted their songs of adoration
and praise, and the poor heathen souls were caught up
in the great mystery and won to God.
From Mexico and Spain settlers soon came flocking
into the beautiful valley, establishing themselves upon
the sea-shore, building dwellings, grazing cattle, and
growing fruits and flowers, increasing and multiplying
themselves and their houses till the city grew and, for
a time, flourished in peace and plenty, carrying on a
thriving trade not only with Spain and Mexico, but
with the inhabitants along the coast. The descendants
of the first settlers, to a great extent, still occupy the
now half-deserted, dilapidated town. The mission
church, presidio, and other buildings appertaining
thereto are on an elevated spot some two miles distant
210
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
from the town, overlooking the lovely and extensive
Carmel Valley.
• Only a century ago. the church was filled with
priests and converts, the presidio with soldiers, their
clanking arms and breastplates glittering in the sun ;
vessels rode at anchor in the harbour, and crowds of
Dutch and Spanish traders, with their bales of mer-
chandise, swarmed upon the silver-sanded beach below.
Now all is gone, like painted shadows fading from the
sunshine.
The church, crowning the hilltop and dominating
the landscape for miles round, is one of the most
beautiful, picturesque, and perfect ruins upon the
coast. Its exterior is complete, even to the rusty bell
which still hangs in the belfry tower, and creaks with
a ghostly clang when the wind blows through; and
we are surprised to find so much of the decorative
masonry still intact. Dilapidated saints and cherubs,
with broken trumpets and mouldering wings, still hold
their places, while all around is slowly but surely crum-
bling to decay ; and, though in places you may see the
daylight streaming through the roof, you can still
ramble through the nuns' gallery and look down upon
the altar, where the broken font still clings to the wall.
On the occasion of our visit, a small side chapel or
vestry was decorated with ivy, evergreens, and paper
flowers, and tin sconces, with the remains of guttering
candles, were left upon the walls. It had been evi-
dently used . very lately — by the villagers, perhaps, for
some festive gathering. The extensive range of adobe
bu7 dings which surround the church and were occu-
pied by the converts and day labourers, are still in a
state of semi-preservation ; the roofs are gone, but the
IN THE VALLEY OF CARMELO.
211
walls are still standing. The whole of these sacred
possessions were enclosed, and entered then as now by
a massive gateway at the foot of the southern slope.
The town of Monterey is only interesting from its
association with the past. It is dirty, it is dusty, it is
utterly void of all modern improvements. Streets !
there are none to speak of, except, perhaps, a row of
slovenly shops which have been run up by some
demented genius the last few years. The old adobe
houses — and they are all made of that species of sun-
dried clay — straggle about in the most bewildering
fashion ; it is much easier to lose your way than to
find it. The people are all strongly characteristic of
their Spanish origin ; they are a dark, swarthy, lazy-
looking race, and scarcely seem to have energy enough
to keep themselves awake. Their houses have no pre-
tension to architecture of any kind ; there is no attempt
at pretty cottage-building or rural decoration ; not
even a creeping plant is trained to hide the bare walls ;
they have low doorways — a tall man must stoop to
enter them — and small, square windows set in the
thick clay walls. I suppose the men do work some-
times, but I have seen them at all hours, shouldering
the doorposts, smoking in sombre, majestic silence,
while the wives sit on stools beside them, generally
with bright-coloured handkerchiefs pinned across their
breasts, huge gold hoops in their ears, and often thick
bracelets on their arms. In her barbaric love of dis-
play the woman forms a picturesque and striking
figure in the shadow of her majestic lord; she is a
piece of brilliant colouring, from the full, red lips, ricli-
hued complexion, to the sparkling black eyes which
illuminate the whole.
212
TMROrOII CITIES AND rRAIRIE LANDS.
I
I
In the lioart of the town there is a lon^^, low
ran^e of deserted buildings formerly occupied by the
military ; tlie windows are all broken, the worm-eaten
doors hanp!". like helpless cripples, on their hinges, and
only the ghostly 'echoes of the wind goes wandering
through the empty chambers. In all quarters of the
town you may come upon houses with windows patched
or broken and ])adlocked doors, the owners having
died or wandered away, and no one (but the rats) cares
to take possession of bare walls. Nobody heeds them ;
they are left to natural decay. We passed some lonely,
barnlike dwellings, with curtained windows and large
gardens behind, where we could see the orchard trees,
and flowering shrubs, and white winter roses growing;
these were shrouded with almost monastic quietude.
We go to the primitive Catholic Church on Sunday,
and wonder where all the beautiful women dressed in
their picturesque national costume have come from.
They have a proud, haughty look upon their faces, and
seem to resent our intrusion. These, we were told, are
the aristocratic remains of the ancient dwellers in the
city, who form a small, exclusive society amc ig them-
selves, and live in the secluded barnlike buildings
above alluded to. Some are in the midst of the town ;
some scattered on the outskirts. The music was good
and the service reverently conducted.
There are tw3 or three old-established hotels, all of
a more or less indifferent kind. We went to the best,
which is of quite a second-rate character, but it serves
well enough as a resting-place for passing tourists.
The inhabitants are strictly conservative — not with the
true spirit of conservatism, which retains the best and
improves or lops off what is bad in its constitution, but
IN THE VALLEY OF CARMELO.
213
they carry out the conserv.itisiu of ignorance ; tliey
will not advance with the age; *' what was good
enough for their forefathers," they argue, " is good
enough for them ; as they were in the old days, so
they are now; they plod along in the old groove, and
keep to their old customs, and nurse their old su{)er-
stitions with undeviating hlind persistency. Why
should they trouble about improving ? "
There is not a drop of water fit to drink in the
whole city. The bright sparkling springs may be
bubbling beneath their feet, but they will not dig for
it. The tourist must drink aerated water, lager beer,
or a poisonous decoction called wine. Eveu the visitors
have hitherto been content with the meagre accommo-
dation afforded them. The United States, which, as a
rule, is quick to perceive and put its progressive ideas
in motion, seems to have forgotten Monterey and left
it, so far, to govern itself. But things are changing
now. People are awakening to a sense of the im-
portance of MoRterey, which might, and most probably
will, become one of the most delightful seaside resorts
in the State ; it has every requisite to make it most
attractive. It has excellent facilities for bathing, a
magnificent sea view, and the walks and drives about
the surrounding country are beautiful in the extreme ;
tliere are wooded bosky dells, luxuriant green valleys,
and undulating hills on every side, and it is in close
proximity to points of great interest; the roads are
pleasant and easy to drive along ; in fact, the only
want at Monterey is accommodation for visitors, and that
want is being rapidly supplied. A monster hotel of
quaint Swiss architecture is in course of erection within
a short distance of the town ; it is partially surrounded
214
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
t:^!
by a wood of scented pine and grand old forest trees,
and a wide, magnificent sea view stretches before it;
its appointments are to be of the most luxurious
description ; hundreds of busy workmen are employed
upon it, and a promise is held out that it will be opened
for this summer season.*
One clear, cool morning we pack a luncheon basket
and start for a " cruise on wheels." We drive first
past the old mission buildings to the Moss Beach,
lying along the shores of the Pacific Ocean, and so
called from the peculiar mossy character and beauty of
the seaweed it flings so liberally along the pure, white
sand, for the beach here is like powdered snow, and
stretches far into the wild inland, its still, billowy
waves sparkling like diamonds in the sunshine. A few
miles farther on, and after a pleasant drive through
pretty home scenery, we pass a Chinese fishing village,
it being a mere collection of miserable hovels, and, as
an Indian decorates his wigwam with scalps, these are
hung inside and out with rows of dTied and dying
bodies of fish. The beach is covered with their bony
skeletons and fishy remains in diife er t stages of de-*
composition, and the whole air is : jdolent with an
" ancient and fishlike smell." We are satisfied with an
outside view, and have no desire to explore, but drive
on as fast as we can till we reach the " pebbly beach of
Pescadero," which is quite a celebrated spot. People
come from miles round to visit it, and spend many
hours in hunting for moss agates ; for these, and many
others of a beautiful and rare description, may be found
in great numbers there. But apart from the chance of
* Since those lines were written the Hotel Del Monte has been
completed and is now opened.
IN THE VALLEY OF CARMELO.
215
finding these treasures, the pebbly beach is in itself a
great attraction for its rarity, as all along that portion
of tlie coast there is only a sandy shore.
Thence we drive on to the lighthouse, which stands
on a rocky eminence jutting out into the sea. We
climbed the narrow stairway to the top, and enjoyed
an extensive panoramic view of the wild sea and
wilder land surrounding. A lonely, desolate place it
was, and to some folk would be maddening in its
monotonous dreariness, with the waves for ever beating
round its rocky base, varied only by the screech of the
sea-birds or howling of the wandering wind. Yet
even in this bleak spot the keeper has coaxed flowers
into growing, and hollyhocks, scarlet geraniums,
dahlias, and other hardy plants are blooming round the
lonely dwelling.
We are to take our lunch at Cypress Point, which we
reach about three o'clock in the afternoon. This in-
teresting and romantic spot which we had selected for
our temporary festivity is an extensive grove, a miniature
forest of cypress trees, covering and growing to the very
verge of a lofty cliff which rises about two hundred feet
perpendicularly from the sea. Their sombre forms, still
and motionless, though a stiff breeze is blowing, turn
oceanwards like dark-plumed, dusky sentinels keeping
watch and ward over the rock-bound land. How
many centuries have they stood there ? Their age is
beyond our ken. We feel the strange fascination of
this gloomy spot. The ancient trees have grown into
strange, fantastic forms. Some lie prone upon the
ground, gnarled and twisted as though they had
wrestled in their death-agony ages ago, and left their
skeletons bleaching in the sunshine, for like the
216
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
whitening bones of a dead man they crumble at the
touch. Some have twined their stiff branches in-
extricably together, apparently engaged in an ever-
lasting wrestling match. Here, like a half-clothed
wizard, stands a skeleton tree with withered arms out-
stretched, and crooked fingers pointing menacingly at
its invisible destroyer. On every side the weird,
strange forms strike the imagination, and though
the sea is laughing and sparkling in the sun, and
the soft wind fanning us with its cool, invigorating
breath, the grim, silent congregation gives us an
uncanny feeling, though we gather under their shade
and eat, drink, and are merry. We shiver as we think
what a spectral scene this cypress gi'ove must be in the
moonlight.
We drive through the beautiful Carmel Yalley,
with its wealth of picturesque beauty spread in rich
luxuriance for miles round us. Wood and water,
undulating hills and grassy slopes succeed each other,
making a natural panorama, as we drive slowly on,
taking in the dainty scene with unwearying eyes.
Occasionally we passed a lonely farmhouse in the
valley, or a chicken ranche half hidden among the
trees on the hillside. These, we were told, are many
of them occupied by English gentlemen of culture and
education. Indeed, not only in this part of the
country, but all over California and in Colorado, in
corners farthest away from the sight and sound of their
fellow-men, we find our countrymen have settled down
as tillers of the land and cultivators of the soil. We
are sometimes disposed to wonder what has driven
• them to these far corners of the earth. With some,
perhaps, a. love of adventure ; a desire to Ibrm a part of
IN THE VALLEY OF CARMELO.
217
the electric life of a new land. One gentleman in-
formed us that he had been plucked at college; another
had failed in a public examination. They had gene-
rally been crowded out of the Old World by failure of
one kind or another, and wandered away to the New,
where there is room for men to build up another life,
and every facility for striking out " into fresh fields
and pastures new." They appear prosperous, happy,
and contented, but one and all seem to encourage a
desire to return to the old land "when the children
have grown up."
Our pleasant visit came to an end. I don't think
any of us cared to say " good-bye," but we went
through the ceremony with dignified calm. The
wonder rose in our hearts, though it never reached
our lips, " shall we ever stand face to face in this world
again ? " " Perhaps," whispers hope softly. We
shake hands. " Grood-bye," " Good-bye." With a
shriek and a whistle our train steams onward. We
carry away with us, and I hope leave behind, many
pleasant memories of our Christmas in California.
'
218
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XXI.
ON THE BANKS OF THE BAY.
Now Year's Visits — The Gentleman's Day — Local Attractions —
Berkeley College— Sancelito — In Arcadia — Among the Woods
and Flowers — A Fairy Festival.
The streets of San Francisco are empty — that is, empty
as regards the female population. Not a petticoat is to
be seen ; Kearney is deserted, and masculine humanity
is left in full possession of California and Montgomery.
Rank, beauty, and fashion is "receiving" to-day.
Buggies, sulkies, rockaways, and every conceivable kind
of vehicle, filled with gentlemen in evening costumes,
are dashing frantically along the streets ; hospitable
doors are open, and a constant stream of the nobler
sex flows in and out ; they come and go in such quick
succession it seems as though they were shot out of
a catapult one moment and shot back the next. It
is a sort of " go-as-you-please " visiting race, and he
who pays most calls between midday and midnight
rises to £|,n imaginary place of honour. The 1st of
January is essentially the " gentleman's day." Every
lady — that is, everybody who is anybody, and many
who are " nobodies," who hold neutral ground, and
cling, like a ragged fringe, to the skirts of society —
ON THE BANKS OF THE BAY.
219
stays at home to receive New Year's calls and friendly
greetings from her gentleman friends. The advent
of a lady on this occasion would be considered an
outrage of all propriety. Sometimes ladies unite, two
or three together, and hold their mutual receptions
under one roof, generally choosing the most important
and most central position, so as to simplify as much
as possible the labours of their admirers. Their
decision is generally announced to the world in this
fashion : " The lovely Miss A. and the accomplished
Miss B. will assist Mrs. So-and-so in receiving to-day."
Although the sun is shining brilliantly without, the
windows are closed, the gas lighted, the rooms beauti-
fully decorated with choice flowers, and the ladies
descend in their full accoutrement of charms and enter
into this artificial night to receive the greetings of
their several admirers. This custom obtains in all the
great cities of America, but in San Francisco it is held in
the fullest splendour and maintained with the greatest
tenacity. The next day the press teems with a thrilling
account of the day's proceedings. Whole columns of
the Chronicle are devoted to details of the ladies' dresses ;
the number of their visitors are duly chronicled, and
woe be to the delinquent he who has failed in his duty ;
the rest — well, I fancy there is a good deal of unchari-
tableness working behind a masked battery of smiles in
the exchange of female confidences on the next day's
meeting.
The time flies so fast in this beautiful, hospitable
land that we are anxious to make the most of it,
and, having fulfilled our engagements in the city,
we decided to pay flying visits to some of the lovely
resorts lying along the banks of the bay, which.
220
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
as I have said before, is large enough fur all the
navies of the world to play hide-and-seek in. Oak-
land, perhaps, takes precedence, it being the most
extensive, the most important, and certainly among
the loveliest of these rural suburbs. It has a railway
of its own dashing through the crowded public
thoroughfares from one end of the town to the other,
its engine bell cling-clanging, warning everybody out
of the way as it charges onward. There are plenty of
handsome shops, some very fine churches, banks, and
a free mercantile library, presided over by an ac-
c )mplished and efficient lady librarian, for female in-
tellect is held at a higher premium, and is utilized
to a greater extent in the New World than in the
Old. Branching off from the populous highway are
picturesque grassy streets, with quaint or fanciful
dwellings on either side, all detached and surrounded
by blooming gardens, stretching away on all sides, till
the busy, bright little town, with a series of coquettish
manoeuvres, touches the green slopes of Berkeley, the
seat of learning, the fount of knowledge, whence the
youth of California draw their mental sustenance.
There stands Berkeley College, presided over by Pro-
fessor John Le Conte, one of the most eminent classical
scholars of the day, of European reputation. The pro-
fessors are all chosen from the foremost rank of what-
ever branch of study they adopt. The college is formed
upon the principles of similar institutions in . England,
and, if they take proper advantage of the benefits to be
acquired there, the Californian youth should be second
to none. The building itself is of handsome red brick,
massive and simple in its architecture. It lies at the
base of the foothills, surrounded by a luxurious growth
ox THE BANKS OF THE BAY.
221
of green, nnd it forms a principal feature in the land-
scape for miles round. Oakland and Berkeley seem to
run hand in hand till they are lost and buried in the
green hillsides. Many of the citizens of San Francisco
make their homes in those attractive suburbs, which lie
about eight miles across the bay. Magnificent ferry-
boats, decorated with mirrors, carving, and gilding,
with luxurious lounges and velvet carpets, ply to and
fro every half-hour during the day. Alameda, St.
Quentin, and many other sylvan retreats are settled
down in cosy nooks scattered round the bay, all being
equally attractive and easy of access.
One bright February morning, when the bay is as
smooth as glass and a score or two of vessels with
sails all set to catch what little breeze is stirring
are floating like white birds on the face of the water,
and the sky wears its Californian livery of intense blue,
we start to spend a long day at Saucelito, which lies in
quite an opposite direction across the bay. We watch
the steep streets of the city (the people passing to and
fro, the vehicles crawling up and down are dwarfed to
the size of dolls and toy carriages) recede from our
view. "We pass by "the silent guns of Alcatras" ; they
are muzzled, masked, and silent now, like lions couchant
and asleep, but should danger threaten that city of the
sunland they would rouse up and roar as loudly as in
days gone by. Small green islets, some sparsely in-
habited, others the solitary home of the waterfowl, are
scattered round the fortified island. These, with the
richly wooded hills surrounding this part of the bay
give a picturesque beauty to the scene. The briny
bre.eze, laden with three thousand miles of iodine,
sweeps through the Golden Gate, and as we breathe
900
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
this health-giving air our pulse quickens and we feel
we are taking a lease of a new life, and as though
lassitude of limb or weariness of heart could afflict us
never any more. There is a glorious sunshine over-
head, and we look out through the Golden Gate at the
silvery Pacific stretching away and lying like a bar
across the distant sky, while behind us a chain of soft
green and purple hills embrace the peaceful Bay. The
fresh invigorating wind sets our cheeks aglow, and
our spirits seem to rise on invisible wings. We feel it
is a glorious thing to live. Life is worth the living
while there are such days and hours to enjoy, and our
hearts sing their voiceless song of thanksgiving, which
only God can hear.
The boat slackens speed. We have been so occu-
pied by the extensive land and sea views that we have
failed to cast our eyes towards the sheltered nook we
are now fast approaching. We seem to have come
suddenly upon a delicious bit of Italian scenery trans-
planted to this far corner of the Western World. The
richly wooded land rises before us, clothed in its glory
of luxuriant green. A few tiny cottages are strewn
along the bay shore, and we catch glimmerings of
white-faced, red-tiled dwellings, hidden here and there
among the trees on the sloping hillsides. Two or
three drowsy officials are lounging about the landing-
stage, and a shabby-looking vehicle, with a skeleton
steed, stands baking in the hot sun, waiting for pas-
sengers. But there is no one else about, no sign of
humanity abroad, everything is quiet and peaceful
everywhere ; it seems as though nature had taken all
her living children in Her arms and lulled them to sl^ep
in the sunshine. ' i
ON THE BANKS OF THE BAY.
223
We climb into the vehicle aforesaid, and begin
slowly ascending the undulating hillside. It is a lovely,
winding road, with luxuriant trees, flowering shrubs,
and sweet-smelling wild flowers sloping away from us
on the one side, and climbing up the gradual ascent on
the other. The brisk breeze which had swept so keen
and invigorating through the Golden Gate dies away
here into a murmuring soft and low, making music in
the tall tree-tops, stirring the leafy branches, and
coquetting with the wealth of wild roses. Here and
there we come upon some quaint, fanciful dwelling
peeping out from a bower of green, the gardens run-
ning out in unconfined loveliness, as though they were
proud to show their blooming progeny to the passing
world outside.
There is no such thing in America as hedging
and walling in private grounds for the solitary grati-
fication of the owner only. PJverything is liberally
and lavishly thrown open for all the world to see,
and in so much, the poorest tramp trudging along
the road, or the poorest labourer in the field, shares his
more fortunate neighbour's wealth, and may "enjoy the
luxury of the rich man's pleasure-gardens, even as the
rich man shares with him the sunshine God freely
gives to all. Although, according to the division of
time, it is early spring, it might be blooming summer-
time, for here it is the very carnival of flowers ; they
are everywhere growing in such glorious profusion, too.
The dainty plants, such as geraniums, fuchsias, myrtles,
roses, etc., which we are accustomed to see flowering in
pots or perhaps growing two or three feet from the
ground, here expand into monstrous bushes or tall
graceful trees. We have stood under a geranium tree
22t
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
and looked up, tliroiifj^h its wealth of scarlet blossoms, "
at the blue sky beyond. Camelias, orchids, and other
delicate plants and shrubs bloom out in the open air,
laden with a f^orj^eous display of dainty flowers. We
counted one hundred and ten waxen white camelias
on one tree alone, and were lost in admiration of
the California Acacia, which flung out its golden
banners on every side, its soft fluffy blossoms, like
plumes of fairy feathers, hiding every trace of the
green leaves which gave them such fostering shelter
only a few weeks ago. We wound our way slowly
through this romantic Arcadian scenery ; there were no
wanderers, no tourists, no tramps astir ; the narrow
winding road was solitary enough, except for once
or twice, when we overtook a batch of women, in short
petticoats and sun-bonnets, trotting along singing, in
not unmusical voices, to beguile the way. Our skeleton
steed, jingling his bells as though to advertise to the
world how much work he was doing, suddenly pulled
up at the foot of a rugged green bank, broken with
rustic steps, leading up to a kind of " Glen Eyrie " or
eagle's nest, half hidden in the rugged hillside. This
was our destination ; we climbed up the rough-hewn
steps and found ourselves at the entrance-gate of a
pretty white cottage with a verandah literally covered
with creeping plants running along in front of it.
Our hostess came out to greet us — a sweet, grave-
looking woman, whose smiling eyes had a shade of
something in them, as though, in some invisible part
of her nature, there was
" A feeling of sadness and longing ' ' •• '•
' /. \ ' :■ That is not akin to pain ;
"Which resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembhs rain," ' ^
«. • , * ■ k
.
ox THE BANKS OF THE BAY.
225
She formed a pretty picture, standing there beneath
her trailing vines to welcome us wanderers from the
Old World. We followed her into a long, low-roofed,
comfortable room, with chairs and lounges covered
with the skins of animals ; cases of rare birds, and
butterflies, and natural curiosities of all descriptions
were arranged on all sides ; gatherings of great rarity
from the bowels of the earth, realms of the air, and the
depths of the sea, spoils from the very heart of nature
were arranged in every nook and corner. Both within
and without the house everything was quaint, pic-
turesque, and suggestive of Old World fancies.
Our hostess was one of those women to whom Pope
alludes as
" Mistress of herself though china fall."
It appears we had mistaken our day. We should
have put in an appearance the day before, when all
preparations had been made for our entertainment.
Now the lady was alone, absolutely alone in the
house. Her Chinese servants (they all employ China-
men here) had gone to participate in some national
festivity, and the sudden irruption of half a dozen
unexpected guests must have been trying to the nerves
of our solitary hostess. We ought to have grovelled
in the dust, but didn't. She was equal to the occasion,
and, in a genial, pleasant way, made us feel quite at
home — as though, indeed, we could not have come at a
better season. We all enjoyed the idea of a general
picnic, improvised on the spot, and, amid much chatter,
laughter, and the mildest of mild jokes, there was a
stampede towards the larder ; but the idle drones and
butterflies of the party (whose offers of assistance in
the culinary department were wisely declined) went
^
'
226 TiiKoron citiks and prairie laxVds.
wnnrlerlng' about the wilderness of a garden and
strayed out into the sweet-scented woods beyond,
looking down through the tangled branches upon the
shining bay below. A perfect paradise this Saucelito
seemed to us, made up of flowers, and peace, and
sunshine; a fitting birthplace for romance; the cradle
of poetry, where fine thoughts are nursed till they
burst out into full-fledged phrases, and fly abroad, and
stir the soul of the world with their wise philosophy or
tender song. Presently the melancholy voice of the
horn came moaning through the woods, calling us to
return. We knew what that meant, and were not
slow in obeying the summons, taking with us such
healthy appetites as would have digested the sole of an
old shoe if dressed to taste.
We found our way into the kitchen, where the
feast was spread. It was not a commonplace kitchen,
where the whole culinary battery is unmasked and its
mysteries are carried on before your very eyes, and
clatter of pans and frizzle and frying take away your
appetite without opposition on your part. This was a
poetical kitchen, with no signs of prose about it ;
coppers bright as mirrors reflected you from the walls,
multiplied you by scores, till the room seemed full of
your shadows. Quaint old china decorated the dressers;
bunches of the beautiful pampas grass and vases of
wild flowers were ranged upon the shelves. The
most useful articles were of an ornamental character.
Standing in one corner was a shining black, quaintly
designed stove, with bright brass knobs and decorated
scrolls, polished to the highest point of polishing, like
a black prince with " gilded honours thick upon him."
His fiery eye was closed ; he had done his work
0\ TIIK BANKS OF TflK RAY.
227
iV.
id
and was at rest. From the bowels of this gnome had
been conjured the dainty repast whicli awaited our
attack. A table spread with fine linen, rare glass,
and quaint old china, such as would have made a
collector's mouth water, was ranged along one side of
the room. As for the repast, it was a recherche thing,
that might have tickled the palate of an epicure.
There were broiled chickens, crisp salad, mayonaise,
and such rich, luscious fruit and cream, witli lovely
flowers and trailing smilax nestled among them. The
very wine, as it was poured out into the Venetian
vine-stemmed glasses, seemed to bubble and sparkle
and cream over, as though it quite enjoyed being
drank out of such rare prettiness. We kept the door
which led into the garden wide open. The tall calla
lilies bent their fair heads, and the saucy red roses,
blushing at their own beauty, sent their perfumed
breath wandering towards us, fluttering their tender
leaves as though to frighten away the droning bees,
who would rifle their sweets before our eyes. A whole
squadron of familiar shrubs and flowers were gathered
thickly round them, and they shook out their rustling
leaves, nodded their fragile heads, and stared in at us
with their white and violet eyes. We stared back and
thought how lovely and refreshing it all was.
Our day in this modern Arcadia passed quickly,
too quickly ; we would fain have put on the drag and
kept it for awhile. The purple mist began to fall
over the mountain-sides as we started on our way
homeward through a beautiful wide canon, fringed
with graceful ferns and tall stately trees, screening
from our sight the light of the setting sun ; a poor
little wandering stream crept in and out among the
228
THROUaH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
broken boulders, as though it was tired and wanted to
rest somewhere, and was trying to find its way to the
great sea ; once absorbed in the everlasting waters
there would be peace, or it might chance to filter its
way down to the hearts of the dead men who lie there
shrouded in weeds waiting for eternity. We were late
in reaching the boat, for we had been tempted to linger
by the way ; the bell was ringing and we had scarcely
stepped on board the boat, when the engine gave a
great satisfactory snort, swung round and started.
The sun had already sunk behind the hills, and the
shades of twilight were rapidly cl '"'ng around us, but
the red clouds were still floating in the west, and
ragged banners and broken bars of gold still streamed
through the darkening skies. It was quite dark when
we reached San Francisco ; we saw the lights in her
steep streets, and the fiery eye of the dummy dashing
up and down, and the red and white car lights flashing
hither and thither like fireflies ; truly she looked like
a queen gorgeously arrayed, flashing her diamonds of
living light in the face of thtj tsombre night.
( 229 )
CHAPTER XXII.
IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
Pleasant Eetreats — Californian Trees — Canon and Forest Scenery —
Duncan Mills — A Stormy Evening — The Redwoods — Farewell
to the " Golden City."
There is so much that is beautiful, and of a most
varied kind of beauty, from the magnificent and sub-
lime to the pretty and picturesque, all along the won-
derful Pacific Coast, and reaching inland to rivers and
mountains, you might spend many months there and
not have time to exhaust, nor even to thoroughly
enjoy, them all, but to those whose time is limited it
is difficult to know what to do with it ; but there are
some places which must be visited, some things which
must be seen. There are the orange groves of Los
Angeles, where you wander for miles through forests
of golden fruit, which, in this month of February,
have just reached perfection, and are ready for the
gathering. Men, women, and children are busy at
their work, piling the dainty fruit in bushel baskets,
with such delicate handling that not a bruise shall
fleck the smooth gold skin, while the air is literally
laden with the pungent perfume. Some of the fruit
grows to an immense size, as large as melons, but
^
230
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
what they gain in size they lose in flavour ; in fact,
it is so with the generaHty of Californian fruits, which
are magnificent to look at, both as to size, form, and
colour, but they seem to have outgrown their strength
and weakened their flavour, for it is very inferior to
that of the same kind of fruit which is grown in the
Eastern States. Of course there are exceptions, but
I refer to the rule.
San Joaquin and San Jose are the most wonderfully
prolific wheat-growing countries, perhaps, in the world.
The grain grows so tall, so heavy and full, that the
tasselled ears droop and seem topplino- over from their
own weight. These miles of fair fruitful lands lay
rolling out from the foot of the mountains, catching
every gleam of sunshine, absorbing every breeze that
blows. Thriving farms are scattered throughout
these valleys ; on all sides there are vineyards, grain
fields, orchards, and extensive cattle ranches ; signs of
thrift and prosperity are evident everywhere. It is
very pleasant to pass through these highly cultivated
lands, where civilization has left her mark in such
unmistakable characters ; but Nature in her wilder
stages, amid her kingly rivers, her lakes, her unap-
proachable mountains and untrodden forests, is more
sublimely impressive.
We were anxious to visit Yosemite Valley and the
Mariposa Grove of big trees, but that was impossible,
the valley being still snowed up, and the roads leading
thereto rough and almost impassable. In order to be
thoroughly enjoj^able a pleasure excursion to the
Yosemite Yalley should be taken from early June
until late October ; during these months the mag-
nificent scenery of this wonderful valley is seen in
IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
231
the hif^hest perfection. Of course there are many
adventurous spirits who make the tour at all seasons
of the year, and force their way into the valley when
it is clothed with icicles and crowned with snow. As
we must, perforce, miss the Yosemite for this year at
least, we decide on a visit to the Redwood Forest in
Sonoma County. Once more we cross the bay, pass
on the other side of Alcatraz, and thread our way
through the green islets surrounding it till we are
landed at St. Quentin ; thence we take our tickets for
Duncan Mills — the railway station is close to the land-
ing stage. It is a narrow-gauge line ; the carriages
or cars are long and narrow ; we can only sit three
abreast. It looks like a train of tiny toy carriages, but
our bright little engine is up to its work, and carries
us on in a swift, spirited way, as though it was taking
a holiday on its own account, not at all on ours. It
looks like a serpent winding its way through a para-
dise of luxuriant green. We run alongside of Tomales
Bay, nay, run into it, and cross its long arms more
than once. Scores of wild ducks and geese are
skimming along the face of the water. Qn one side
of the bay is a range of low-lying hills, while our
little train is puffing along on the other close under
the shadow of massive gray rocks, with skeleton trees
and stumpy bushes growing out of their broken sides.
We pass the pretty fishing village of Tomales, and
some few queer-looking hovels, on the edge of the bay,
inhabited by Indians, for the squaws and little brown
children are grouped under the eaves mending nets
or making willow-baskets. We soon leave the bay
behind us, and pass by picturesque villages nestling
peacefully among the foothills, and here and there a
232
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
lii;' M
half-ruined deserted dwelling at tbe mouth of a deep
canon, which leads hundreds of miles away into the
wilds where the brown bear feels safe from the hunter
and the young wolves bay the moon at night. We
cross deep ravines upon narrow trellis-work which
would have made us shudder in the old days. Pre-
sently we find ourselves running along the base of
thickly wooded hills, with their wealth of strangely
beautiful trees, which were new to our eyes. Here
are a group of Madrono trees, with their orange-
coloured bark, sometimes deepening to crimson, but
always shining and smooth as polished ivory, their red
veins running like graceful lacework through their
leaves of tender green. These lovely trees will flourish
nowhere but in their native woods. Ml known
methods have been tried to raise them in ornamental
grounds, but they obstinately refuse to take root ; in
spite of the tenderest care they droop and die. Then
comes the Manzanita, with its pale-green leaves and
delicate pink blossoms, drooping in bunches so close
to us we could reach out our hands and pluck them
as we pass. We are going now at only the rate of
ten miles an hour, and the conductor occasionally gets
off the train and runs alongside, gathering flowers or
specimen leaves for us till we are overladen. Higher
up the hillsides stand whole families of ash and poplar,
looking as fresh and green as the hand of spring could
paint tbem. Here, grim and hoary, rise a company
of live oaks, their ragged mossy robes scarce covering
their long straggling limbs, but hanging all over them
like a jagged fringe or gray beard matted and falling
from its bald head, twisting and writhing round it as
though to strangle the little life that lingered in its
T\ TFTE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
233
gnarled and knotted trunk. The scene changes, and,
glancing across on the other side of the bed of the
Russian River, we see the fir and pine trees growing
in dense dark masses, with here and there a clump of
golden trees, like yellow islands in a sombre sea of
green. Presently we reach the forest, drive into it
and through it for many miles ; the dark trees, grown
so straight and tall and strong in their native soli-
tudes, close round us on every side. Looking upward
we can scarcely see the sky, and the sun tries hard to
fight its way down through the branches, but only
succeeds in sending a bright lance here and there to
smite the ground we are rolling over. Then the
forest, on one side at least, falls back and climbs the
sloping hills on our left. On our right lies the Russian
River, which has followed us all along, winding its
way through the dense forest, playing hide-and-seek
with the sun ; sometimes with silent, secret persistency
forcing its way through broken boulders and other
natural impediments which hinder its progress ; then,
dividing its forces, creeping stealthily through narrow
crevices till it unites again with double strength, and
storms its way onward till it reaches a low-lying rocky
ledge, and sweeps over with a thunderous roar and
falls into its bed below. It is all right now, and its
swirling waters roll on, leaping and laughing in the
sunshine, on their smooth and pleasant journey towards
the sea. Here and there we pass a wooden house lying
upon its side in the bed of the river. Some of these
capsized cottages are entire, as though they had merely
toppled over ; some are dilapidated and broken like
match-boxes. We wonder how they got there, and are
told that a few months ago the river rose fifty-four feet.
Ill
^
i
J
'■')
234 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
overflowing its banks, and, rushing in its mad, head-
long course through the country, swept all before it,
leaving the debris where it still remained, some lodging
on the banks and some lying in the bed of the river.
The wreckage of homes and lands are strewn for miles
along the river's course. We had but one fellow-
passenger through all this journey, and he was
shrouded in self-complacency and a linen-duster. He
sat with his hat pulled over his eyes, and his nose
buried in a book ; he never once looked out on the
grand scenery we were passing through ; but that was
Nature's book, perhaps he couldn't understand the
language. He had been a candidate for Congress, we
were told, and failed ; if he had been a candidate for
Napa Asylum, I think he'd have got it.
Duncan Mills is the terminus ; the train goes no
farther ; it lies in the very heart of the forest. It is
a mere station ; it cannot by any stretch of fancy be
called a village. It consists of one handsome resi-
dence, the home of Mr. Duncan, the owner of the great
lumber mill, whence the station takes its name. The
wood, cut down some miles away, where they are
clearing the ground, is floated down the Russian River
to its destination here. There are also some half-dozen
cottages for the lumbermen, a livery stable, where
excellent horses and carriages may be had for excur-
sions in the surrounding country. Of course wherever
a train stops there must be a hotel ; here is one, a
pretty rural-looking place, two storeys high, with a
verandah running all round it, externally most pleasant
g-^ to look at, and the interior arrangements render it a
most deliglitful place for a temporary residence. In
summer it is crowded with tourists, who are sometimes
IX THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
235
SO charmed with the picturesqueness of the place as to
settle there for many weeks, and season after season
visit it again. Its surroundings are lovely and ro-
mantic in the extreme, mountain, river, and forest
scenery lying close round you. It was the off season,
the tourists had not yet began to arrive, consequently
we had this charming primitive hotel all to ourselves ;
there were no chambermaids, no Chinamen.
" We arrange things on a different plan when the
real season begins," said our hostess, a pleasant-
mannered, sensible-looking woman. " We have plenty
of waiters and that kind of thing, but till then my
daughter and I manage the work between us.''
We were glad to have arrived at a season when
there were no " waiters or that sort of thing ; " it was
pleasanter to be waited upon by our landlady and her
charming young daughter than by a pig-tailed "Chinee"
or the supercilious white, who looks as though he was
doing you a favour every time he hands you your soup.
A violent storm arose on the evening of our arrival.
There was a kind of haze over the sky, and the sun
set with a heavy mist circling round it. We looked
out and watched the gathering shades of evening creep
down the sable-skirted pine forest, and were struck by
the intense silence ; the invisible insect world seemed
suddenly to have sank to rest ; there was not a sound
on the earth nor a tremulous motion in the air. A
black darkness by degrees overspread the heavens, and
big raindrops began to fall faster and faster, splashing
on the verandah outside. The wind, from a low sidlen
murmur, swelled to a perfect gale ; we heard it sweep-
ing down the defiles and hurrying along the hillsides,
shrieking like a company of fiends, surging round and
236 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIR LANDS.
battling with the big trees till they groaned and reeled
and shivered beneath the assaults of its fierce, strong
breath. The rain increased to a perfect avalanche of
water, as though it would drown us and send us
floating down the Russian River. A dimly lighted
room in a strange hotel was not a comfortable location
for a stormy night. Our landlady invited us into the
family sitting-room, where there was a big blazing
wood fire ; we drew our chairs round it and sat rocking
in a lazy, listless way, listening to the storm without
and enjoying the comfortable scene within. The
mistress of the house sat sewing by the light of a
softly shaded lamp, while her daughter was busily
engaged arranging some dried ferns and flowers.
Presently the door opened, and a tall brown-bearded
man, a perfect type of the strong stout-hearted fron-
tiersman, with top-boots, frieze coat, and leather
breeches, strode into the room. He glanced at us with
a pair of sharp bright eyes. Mrs. W , with a half-
introductory smile, said, " Mr. Gr , our express
agent ; he lives here all the year round." He drew his
chair to the fire, " hoped he didn't intrude." He apolo-
gized for his presence, we apologized for ours, and in
the course of a few minutes found ourselves engaged
in an interesting conversation. They knew we had
come from England, and were deeply interested in all
concerning it. We would rather have gathered in-
formation of this wild Western world, teeming as it
is with new interests, new life ; but their thoughts
were directed to the grave Old World across the sea.
Their lives were saturated, filled to overflowing, with
the adventurous, restless spirit that permeates their
beautiful land ; they seemed to enjoy the distant con-
IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
237
con-
templation of the settled clignit}' and steadfast insti-
tutions of the mother country. They talked of the
political aspect of to-day contrasted with that of the
past, and argued that one had grown out of the other.
In the course of conversation there were allusions to
the repeal of the corn laws, the passing of the Reform
Bill, and such bygone matters, with all of which they
were perfectly conversant. They discussed Lord
Palmerston's foreign policy as contrasted with that of
the present, and were strong upon the ministerial
difficulties of to-day, insisting that the then Conserva-
tive Grovernment would go out, having made so many
and, such disastrous mistakes, and the parliamentary
ribbons must fall into Mr. Gladstone's hands. They
watch our political movements at home with as much
interest as their own elections. We are not petticoat
politicians, and occasionally found ourselves flounder-
ing out of our depths ; it is as much as we can do to
swim on the surface of the smoothest political waters,
and were not sorry when politics went down and
literature came up. They were familiar, the handsome
express agent especially so, with our old. dramatists
and popular prose writers, and discussed their works
with a propriety of expression, appreciation of subject,
and judicious criticism that one could scarcely expect
to find in these latitudes. There was a strength and
originality in his thoughts and expressions, which we
seldom find in what is called " cultivated society,"
where originality of any kind rarely comes to the
surface. Towards the end of the evening our host
entered the room quietly and gingerly, as though he
were treading on eggs ; he seated himself on the very
edge of his chair, clasped his hands stiffly on his knees,
238 TUROUGII CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
and was dumb ; if anything struck him as " funny " he
opened his mouth, let a laugh escape, and shut it
again with a snap. Long before we parted for the
night the storm was over.
The morning broke calm and fair ; no sign of the
last night's tempest lingered on earth, in air, or sky,
and we started on an excursion to Austin Creek, a
beautiful romantic spot, about four miles on the other
side of the forest.
On first starting from Duncan Mills we had to
ford the Russian River, which was somewhat swollen
owing to the heavy rains of the previous night. The
horses plunged in, and before they had taken many
steps the water was up to their bellies and surged over
the axletrees of the carriage. Instead of crossing the
river direct, our driver turned and drove towards the
sea. I say " drove," but he merely let the reins lie on
the horses' necks and allowed them to follow their
own devices. To our eyes, looking over the sides of
the carriage, it seemed as though we were being
carried away by the strong tide that was flowing
seawards. We glanced at our driver's face ; it was
perfectly serene ; he was evidently master of the situ-
ation. In answer to our anxious eyes he said, " There's
no danger, ladies ; these horses have swum this river
when it was sixteen feet deep."
" All very well for the horses," I replied, " but the
carriage couldn't swim too." After going about a
hundred yards down the river, he turned the horses'
heads, and we were thankful to be once more on
dry land. Almost immediately we plunged into the
narrow forest paths, which are rough and uneven, and
by no means pleasant to travel over, especially when
IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
239
the
a
rses'
on
the
and
hen
we come to a piece of corduroy road, which consists
of the felled trunks of trees, laid across, and partially
sinking into a muddy Slough of Despond.
We are so bumped and bruised, and jolted from one
side to the other, we can scarcely breathe, — we clutch
the carriage sides, — we cling to each other, and when
we are safe over, we feel our limbs to see if there is not
a case of dislocation somewhere. For nearly two hours
we drive through the solemn redwood forest, the tall
straight trees growing like an army around us ; there
is no gentle swaying or fluttering of branches here;
they rise high above our heads, and twist and turn
their dark masses together, shutting out the light of
the sun. We presently come to a part of the forest
more densely populated with its silent multitude, where
the trees grow larger, taller, and their gnarled roots
force their way upward, and lie, like writhing serpents,
petrified on the ground. The sound of the woodman's
axe has never echoed through this solitude ; it is a
wild, virgin forest, vast, and in parts almost impene-
trable. The roughness of the roads detracts somewhat
from the pleasure of this excursion, though on arriving
at Austin Creek you are well repaid for your trouble.
It is a most delightful spot, dreamy and romantic ;
you feel inclined to sit there by the bubbling water,
and dream the long day through. An old backwoods-
man, — quite a character in his way, — lives in a pretty
rustic cottage near the creek, and is always ready to
refresh his visitors with a good supply of lager beer,
tea, coffee, the w^hitest of bread, and yellowest of
butter ; and, perhaps a salmon trout, fresh from the
stream, to add flavour to the simple meal.
We made sundry other excursions in the beautiful
240 TIIROL'GU CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
neigliLourliood of Duncan Mills, and left on the third
day. The housoliold turned out to walk with us across
to the station, which is not fifty yards from the hotel
door ; the women with hright coloured kerchiefs thrown
over their heads ; our solemn, silent host carrying our
valise ; a fat sow, with a young litter of grunters ;
two huge setters, with whom we had made great
friends, and a pig-tailed Chinaman bringing up the
rear. Our kind hostess handed us a dainty basket of
fruit and sandwiches as we shook hands all round,
and said " good-bye." Our gallant expressman, too,
put in an appearance at the last moment ; he had just I
time to wave his sombrero and wish us " Grod speed,"
when our smart little engine gave a snort, a jerk,
and started on her way.
Beautiful as the redwoods are in this locality, they
are not so fine as the redwoods in the neighbourhood
of Santa Cruz, which is one of the loveliest seaside
resorts on that part of the coast. The road to these
redwoods is a most attractive one, through canons filled
with trees, all stretching their long arms upwards
ready to clutch you as you pass by ; sparkling
streams, whose waters are ever flowing round spurs
of timbered hills, broken with gorges and deep ravines,
scars of an earthquake or sabre-cuts of time ; then
we wind along the steep mountain-side, looking down
upon the boiling river, which is rushing among the
broken boulders below. At last there is a sharp turn,
and rapid descent into the forest, where there are some
magnificent redwoods, second only to the world-famous
" big trees " of the Calaveras and Mariposa groves.
We are soon in the midst of them ; they grow so
smooth, so straight, and high, like the columns of
IN THE FOREST PRIMEVAL.
241
some great cathedral, outspreading and uniting their
leafy crowns like a groined green roof, more than a
hundred feet above our heads. We wander through
these symmetrical, silent aisles, — tlie triumph of
nature's architectural grandeur, — and feel inclined to
bow our heads and lift our hearts heavenward.
It is difficult at first to realize the dimensions of
these giants of the forest, all being of an immense size
and height. There is no contrast ; but when some of
our party went to measure one we speedily realized its
magnitude, for the men and women looked like animated
dolls paradin<j slowly round the huge trunk. They
measured it about four feet from the ground, and ascer-
tained that it was more than seventy-five feet in circum-
ference. This was considered one of the largest. We
entered into one hollow trunk where General Fremont
had taken a fortnight's rest during his arduous expe-
dition westwards. After he had vacated this sylvan
retreat a man with a wife and two children took pos-
session and lived there for two years, while they were
gathering together money and materials to build them-
selves a home on the fringe of the forest about three
miles eastward. On one side they had inserted a glass
window, which is still there, and, strange to say,
unbroken ; in another place they had cut a huge round
hole, evidently for a stovepipe to carry off the smoke.
One very fine symmetrical tree was clothed to the
height of six feet with visiting cards, stuck on with
tin-tacks ! We wandered for some hours through this
sacred solitude, and left it with much regret, feeling it
was perhaps the last excursion we should make on this
side of the Rocky Mountains.
We return to San Francisco, and somewhat dole-
R
I
!iiit .:!
242 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
fully make preparations for our departure from this
glorious sunland ; but our time is up, and the longer
we stay the greater will grow our regrets. We spend
our last few days in paying farewell visits, and go
through that melancholy ceremony with satisfactory
calm. We keep our lugubrious feeling deep down in
our hearts, and say " good-bye " with smiling faces.
We had entered San Francisco at sunset ; we leave it
in the ros}' morning, when the sun is shining and
flooding the beautiful city and its purple hills with
golden light. A host of our kind friends escort us
across the bay. Our hearts are too full to talk much,
so with eloquent hand-clasps and brief " good-byes "
we part.
The huge ferryboat bears them back to their
Golden City, which fades from our sight in a mist, a
mist that blurs it in our eyes only ; then the great
yellow cars of the Central Pacific bear us eastward.
We pass through the Sacramento Valley, climb once
more the grand Sierras, and California fades from our
sight, and is fast becoming only a memory and a
dream.
To all those who are in search of health, of novelty,
and who are able to enjoy the noblest, grandest, and
most varied scenery this world can boast, I would say,
" Go Westward," go over the sea, across the Kocky
Mountains, the glorious Sierras, and sit down at the
Golden Gate and rest.
( 243 )
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SILVER STATE.
Snowed in — Indians — Journey to Denver — A Forage for a Supper
— "Crazed" — Domestic Difficulties— Colorado Springs— Chey-
enne Canon— The " Garden of the Gods "— Ute Pass— Glen
Eyrie.
Once more we are travelling eastward. It is early
April, and in the land we have left the earth is
wearing her gorgeous spring robes, embroidered with
the loveliest and brightest of wild flowers ; they are
everywhere, they cover her like a jewelled mosaic of
crimson, violet, white, and gold. Nowhere is there
such a luxuriant growth of wild flowers, as iu Cali-
fornia. We soon begin to feel that we have left the
land of the sun behind us. The weather grows cool,
and the blue skies are filled with floating islands of
leaden clouds. At Colfax, which we reach about six
o'clock in the evening, there is a general bustle and
confusion. There is something wrong ahead ; every-
body worries everybody with inquiries " What is the
mT,tter?" and we learn, to our chngrin, that the
weight of snow has broken in a thousand feet of snow
sheds on the summit of the Sierras. We are shunted
on to a siding where we are to remain for the night,
244
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
Si
ill
while fifty men are told off to clear the road. They
come swinging down upon the platform, a crowd of
strong, weather-beaten fellows, while the moon, shining
like a white ghost amid the thunder-clouds aLove,
lights up their swarthy faces. An engine and truck is
soon prepared. They swarm into it, loaded with pick-
axes and shovels ; they overflow and cling wherever
they can find a foothold ; and the engine, with a huge
snow-plough as big as a house, goes snorting and
shrieking on its way, the men shouting and hurrahing
as it bears them out of sight. We go to bed some-
what disconsolately ; the idea of being " snowed in " at
the foot of the mountains is not pleasant, and we look
forward anxiously to what may await us at the top.
At six in the morning it is telegraphed " All clear,"'
and we recommence our journey. A gray mist
has rolled over the Sierras, and shrouded the magni-
ficent forest in a gray cloud mantle ; we look down
on a weird world of shadows ; here and there a gleam
of sunlight breaks out from the gloomy skies and
is gone in a moment. It is dreary travelling for a
while — a gray sky above, a gray world below, and a
gray cloud mist falling over us on all sides ; but
our living street moves slowly with slackened speed
through all. We settle down in a comfortable palace
car, and with a chosen few of our fellow-passengers
form quite a pleasant coterie.. We visit each other's
sections, passing freely from one car to another ; we
read, chat, tell anecdotes (some of us had quite a gift
that way), and keep the ball of conversation rolling
pretty briskly ; when our wits are exhausted we take
refuge in the inevitable fifteen puzzle. .
In the evening we had our section lighted, and played
THE SILVER STATE.
245
a solemn game of whist, or were initiated into the
mysteries of euchre, or watched the rollicking game of
poker being carried on by a merry party in the oppo-
site section.
The weather changed, the clouds lifted, and the
next morning we found ourselves once more ascending
the Rocky Mountains, which struck us with an idea of
even greater sublimity, now that the novelty of our
first view had worn oft*. The sun shone brilliantly, and
an intense blue sky bent over us as we slowly wound
our way through the lovely God-created world of stone
where no man dwells. At Elko, and sundry other
mountain stations, the Indians came down to see the
trains pass. There were braves of all ages, with their
squaws and pappoose staring in silent stolidity at the
bustling scene. They were evidently got up for eft'ect.
The women wore striped blankets pinned round their
bodies, and bright handkerchiefs or shawls over their
heads. Their long matted hair streamed over their
shoulders, sometimes over their eyes ; and they had
added to their natural attractions by blotches of coarse
red paint daubed on tlie dark faces. The men were,
on the whole, more gaily dressed and painted than the
women. One especi. '^y attracted our attention. He
was evidently a " buck" of the first water. He wore
a blue blanket wrapped round him, and on his head
a broad-brimmed ragged felt hat, with a mass of blue
feathers drooping on his shoulders. The men stood in
groups, solemnly regarding us with their big black
eyes, still as statues ; the women squatted on the plat-
form or peeped at us from round corners. It was not
exactly pleasant, but very interesting to find ourselves
amid a score or two of this savage race, the men
246
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
S 111!
!
all armed with guns and knives. Some of them got
on to the train (all Indians are allowed to ride free,
getting on and off as they please : they never ride in
cars with the other passengers, but on the steps or in
the baggage van) and went with us to the next station.
After a run of five days we reach Denver City,
capital of the Silver State of Colorado. It is near
midnight as we roll through the silent streets and
stop at the Grand Central Hotel, whose doors are
hospitably open to receive us. We are tired and
hungry. We had reserved a good appetite, intending
to dine at Cheyenne, where we knew we should
get a luxurious meal ; but as we desired to push on
to Denver that night, and there was no connecting
train at Cheyenne proper, we turned off at the junction,
and having missed our dinner reach Denver in a serai-
exhausted state. A solitary black porter, all smiles,
relieves us of our hand-baggage, and shows us to
a clean comfortable room on the third floor, the only
unoccupied room in the house. It was fortunate we
telegraphed, or we should not have had that. The
house is crowded, the town is crowded ; people are
pouring in and out every day on their way to and
from " Leadville," a city that has grown up in two
years, and has churches, banks, waterwor]v:s, stage
roads cut out of a wilderness, and thirty thousand
inhabitants. Mines are open, shafts sunken, and
thousands of workers are digging in the bowels of
the earth, searching for gold and silver — finding it, too.
We ask for supper. We cannot have anything till
the morning. The cook has gone ; the larder is locked
up. We stand a-'liast, but not cast down. We insist
that we shall die of exhaustion before the morning, and
THE SILVER STATE.
247
we " must have something — anything, we don't care
what." He grins, shows his white teeth, scratches his
woolly head, and shakes it in the teeth of our distress.
At last, by dint of prayers and entreaties, we induce
him to go on a foraging expedition into the town. He
returns presently — I believe he knocked up the doctor
— with some roughly cut sandwiches of rancid butter
and tough leathery beef in one hand, and a bottle of
lager beer in the other. With this we are forced to
be satisfied, if not content.
The next morning we have a capital breakfast, and
are most anxious to go on a reconnoitring expedition
through the town, but a blinding snowstorm confines
us to the house. Still it is not cold ; although there is
a stove in the room we do not need a fire. It clears
up in the afternoon ; we wrap ourselves in our
warmest clothing and prepare to sally forth. As we
cross the hall we hear our name uttered in a familiar
tone, and we encounter an old friend whom we had
last seen in a London drawing-room. He recognized
us ; we should never have recognized him, in his
frontier dress, with top-boots, broad sombrero hat, and
clean-shaven face, bronzed and brown with the " bright
sun's kiss." He had just returned from a seven-
hundred-mile ride through the Indian territory, and
still had his knives and pistols in his belt. These
he now deposited in a huge box, which the office-clerk
proudly opened for our inspection.
" See here, ladies ; " he said ; " when the gentlemen
come down from the hills they leave their arms here.
Ours is a peaceable town now ; there is no need to go
armed. A dozen years ago every man carried his life
in his hand — the air was full of pistol-sho.s ; in foul
^
1111
248 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
weather it rained bullets. Now it is altogether different.
You are as safe in the streets as in your own houses."
He slammed the lid down with a clang.
Our Chicago friend volunteered to escort us about
the town if we would give him time " to refresh him-
self." lie was a long time refreshing, and when he
made his reappearance he was refreshed out of all know-
ledge. He had discarded his top-boots, frieze jacket,
and broad sombrero, and now appeared, white-shirted
and frock-coated, fit for a lounge in Bond Street. He
had dug out the insignia of civilization from the
depths of a huge trunk which travelled ahead of him
" in case of being wanted." He had destroyed his
picturesqueness, but looked respectable. With this
renovated being we paraded the streets of Denver. Its
ancient rowdyism is dead ; its bowie-knived, swag-
gering, swearing population of ten years ago has de-
parted ; it is now a peaceful, law-abiding city, with
long streets or boulevards planted with fine trees,
which in summer-time must form a delightful shade,
but in consequence of the great altitude, I suppose the
summer is very backward here, for at present there is
L. ' a single green leaf to be seen. There are numbers
of handsome dwelling-houses, mostly occupied by
families who have flocked from all parts of the world,
and settled here in consideration of the beautiful
climate, which is genial and pleasant at all seasons,
and especi;dly beneficial to those who are in the least
affected with any chest or lung disease. I have met
here many hale, strong, hearty men, who the moment
they leave the city and descend to the valleys below
become suffering invalids. It is the same throughout
the entire State of Colorado ; the pure rarefied air has
THE SILVER STATE.
249
a surprisingly healing effect upon the lungs, and the
asthmatic sufferers breathe like healthy men ; they only
recognize their afflictions when they leave these
mountain heights. There are numbers of very hand-
some shops of all descriptions, the jewellers making
a specially brilliant display ; they are the best pa-
tronized, perhaps, of any here, for the miners, when they
have made their " pile," come down from the hills and
invest their gold in diamonds and jewellery for their
wives or S'veethearts. There are substantial banks ;
plenty of churches and chapels for all denominations
and creeds ; very fine public buildings — town hall,
^^'brary, police courts, etc. The inhabitants are espe-
cially tetchy, and take seriously to heart any ob-
servation concerning the respectability of their city,
and are greatly scandalized by any allusion to its
former delinquencies. It is like a reformed rake in
broadcloth and fine linen, and resents any allusion to
its days of bowie-knives and buckskins. There is very,
good, though not exactly luxurious, accommodation for
travellers in the way of hotels ; but there is a monster
hotel now in the course of building, which promises
a combination of luxuries and comforts to tourists of
the future.
The city is built on a wide plateau five thousand
feet above the sea-level. A few streets and houses
cover a wide area ; there is plenty of room to build
and breathe in. Some of the streets, two miles long,
have scarcely fifty houses in them, but these are sur-
rounded by gardens and pleasure-grounds ; they are
very wide, and planted with rows of cotton trees. The
roads in all directions are beautifully smooth ; it is a
delight to drive over them. It is now the 12th of
250 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
April ; there is a bright bhie sky, warm balmy sunshine,
and a crisp invigorating air, but there is not a flower
to be seen, not the twitter of a spring bird to be heard
anywhere. Ranges of hills and mountains arise on all
sides of it, some far away over the plains, some near,
but mostly covered with eternal snows, their icy peaks
flashing in the sunshine in striking contrast to the blue
foothills below. Glancing on one side we see a wide
endless plain ; it seems bounded by the horizon. This,
by mild gradations, unbroken by hills or mountains,
leads through towns, forests, and cultivated prairie lands
to the Mississippi river six hundred miles.
Having promenaded the streets of Denver for some
hours we return to our Grand Central Hotel. On our
way up to our rooms we meet a young, pretty-looking
girl with an intensely preoccupied look upon her face.
She hurries past us. We are inclined to ask " if any-
thing is the matter ? " but before we have time to think
she is gone. We meet her several times during the after
part of the day, running up and down the stairs, or
roaming along the passages, still with the same strange,
intent look upon her fixce. Late in the evening, while
we are sitting chatting previous to retiring to rest, the
handle of our door is very quietly turned. We step
forward and throw it open. There is no one there,
but this girl is hurrying along the corridor, wringing
her hands and moaning pitifully, " I've lost a pair of
little baby's shoes ! " and throughout the long night she
was wandering about the house, along the passages, and
up and down the stairs, uttering the same pathetic cry.
The next morning we were roused by a succession
of piercing shrieks, and on our hurrying out to learn
the cause, found the poor girl being dragged through
THE SILVER STATE.
251
the corridor by two sturdy, rough-looking men, who
certainly did not " do their spiriting gently." All the
visitors had turned out of their rooms, alarmed at the
tragic disturbance, and though every one deplored
what seemed to be the unnecessary violence of these
petty officers " dressed in their brief authority," no one
spoke to prevent it, well knowing that any interference
with the " police " is dangerous, and followed by dan-
gerous consequences. In spite of her heartrending
shrieks, and appeals for help, the unfortunate creature
was dragged down the stairs uttering the one piteous
cry—
" I've done no harm. I was only looking for my
little baby's shoes."
" She's crazv, ' volunteered the head waiter. " It is
very sad. She's a stranger, too, in these parts ; nobody
knows anything about her. She drove up here yester-
day morning in the station fly, and engaged a room, but
she behaved queer, roaming about the house all day
and all night. We were forced to send for the police
to take her away ; we could not have crazy folk
hanging round here."
We returned silently to our rooms, all of us, I think,
sad at heart — th men looking especially downcast,
evidently feeling that they might have done sometJiing
for this solitary distressed woman. But what ? They
all knew that authority once acknowledged in these
mountain cities must be held unquestioned and
supreme.
It is quite a common thing in Denver for families
to take up their residence entirely at hotels. Only
two classes of people can enjoy the luxury of a home :
viz. those who possess great wealth, and are able to
r
252 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDb.
keep large establishments, and pay princely wages for
very indifferent service ; and those who are able and
willing to do their own housework, cooking, etc., with-
out any extraneous help whatever. People of modest
means, who in the old country might enjoy a cosy
home and neat-handed maidservant, must not look for
it here. An English lady resident in the hotel gave
me her experience in the matter. She took a pretty
house, furnished it, engaged a " help," and prepared
once more to enjoy the luxury of home : the "help" had
laid down the law what she would do, and what she
would not do. All preliminaries being satisfoctorily
arranged, she entered on her duties. The dinner-hour
came ; the table was laid for three.
" There will be only the Captain and myself to
dinner to-day ; we seldom have company," said the
mistress.
" But there's me ! I'm to dine with you, I sup-
pose ? " replies the " help."
Upon its being mildly suggested that their conver-
sation would not be particularly interesting to her — ■
besides " they preferred dining alone" — she flounced
out of the room. An hour afterwards the mistress
ventured into the kitchen to learn the cause of the
dinner's delay, and discovered that savoury meal flung
into the scullery sink, the fire raked out, and the
irate " help " departed !
Household labour is at a premium. The social
aspect of affairs seems to be turned upside down ; it is
the employee who dictates terms, not the employer.
There exists a kind of female domestic guild, whose
members seem eternally " on strike." They decide who
shall be served and who shall not be served ; the scale
THE SILVER STATE.
253
sup-
of wages, find the rules to be observed by the house-
hold they condescend to enter. Woe be to the mistress
who rebels against her maid ! — she shall bo maidless
ever after. In spite, however, of this trifling drawback
to domestic bliss, many ladies are brave enough to face
the difficulties, and accompany their lords to the fields
of gold, as in the old days they did to the field of battle.
Denver is, and will long continue to be, crowded with
adventurers from all parts of the world, for it is a
place where fortunes are easily made, — perhaps as
easily lost. It is a paradise, they say, for men, dogs,
and horses, but no heaven for women.
The next day we bid adieu to our friend, who is
starting for Leadville, while we take the train for
" Colorado Springs," about four hours' run from Denver
City. We reach the depot early, and take our seats in
an empty car ; throngs of people begin to arrive, some
on foot, some in ramshackle vehicles of all descriptions ;
the hotel omnibuses dash up one after the other and
empty their living freight upon the platform, which is
speedily crowded with an array of masculine humanity ;
but there is not a woman to be seen — not one !
A dark, swarthy, rough-looking set of men they
are, with stern, impassive faces ; they are mostly
armed, and are evidently bound for the hills hundreds
of miles up the country. One after another they
swarm into the cars, exchange silent salutations; a nod,
a smile, perhaps a few low-voiced words, and that is
all. There is no laughing, no handshaking, no jesting,
no geniality ; they are thoughtful, energetic men, and
all seem bent on the world's most serious business ;
each bearing the weight of his own concerns. Some
read the Denver News. Nobody seems to be sociably
254
TRROUOn CITIES AND PRATRIE LANDS.
inclined towards his neighbour ; occasional scraps of
conversation are floated to our ears ; but they are
mostly silent and preoccupied. We are the only ladies
on board the cars, but that is not an embarrassing
fact. No one takes any notice of us ; they don't even
seem to glance our way, though the fact of two ladies
travelling in these regions without an escort must have
been a novelty. Occasionally, if the sun incommoded
us, a hand belonging to an invisible body arranged
our blinds comfortably : by this token only was our
presence recognized.
We reach Colorado Springs about midday, and as
the train stops, a bearded giant in top-boots addressed
us in lamb-like tones —
" You get out here ? Strangers, T guess ? "
We admitted both facts.
" Know what hotel you're going to ? No ? Well,
I guess you'll find the National about the thing."
In another moment we find ourselves and our hand-
baggage deposited in the omnibus of the National
Hotel, and our depositor, with a profound obeisance,
stands bareheaded as we drive away.
Colorado Springs (so called, I suppose, because the
nearest spring is five miles off) stands on a sandy
plain, six thousand feet above the sea-level ; the Rio
Grande Railway has a station here, where there is
clean, comfortable, though not luxurious accommodation
for tourists desiring to explore the attractions of this
wonderful State, with its boundless plains, ice-crowned
mountains, and great rolling uplands, sweeping away
till they are broken up by the low, rugged foothills, or
lost among eternal snows. Colorado Springs is a
bright, lively little town, which, during the last five
THE SILVER STATE.
255
38 of
are
adies
ssiiig
even
[adies
have
aoded
iiiged
,s our
md as
ressed
Well,
hand-
ational
jisance,
use the
sandy
;he Rio
ihere is
odation
of this
irowned
g away
hills, or
gs is a
last five
years, has risen from tlio wild [)rairie laud, and has now
a population of throe thousand residents. There are two
other delightful resorts in the neighbourhood — the old
* Colorado city, sedate, solemn, and picturesque, but
much neglected by tourists generally, who prefer the
brisk, bustling " Springs," or the more aristocratic
" ^[anitou," about six miles off, which is most roman-
tically situated, and has luxurious hotel accommodation.
In the immediate vicinity are several sod. and iron
springs, at which any passing traveller may stop and
drink. Any one who tastes, as we did (we did more
than taste, we drank draughts of it), the sparkling soda
water bubbling up from its natural source, will for-
swear the manufactured article ever after.
On the afternoon of our arrival we start on an
expedition to Cheyenne Canon, some half-dozen miles
from the " Springs." We feel the full magnetism of
this rarefied mountain air as we speed over the wide,
rolling plain, which spreads in billowy waves of short
gray-green grass on all sides of us. The skies are
intensely blue, the air flooded with sunshine. Not the
twitter of a bird is to be heard, not a tree, is in leaf,
not a flower in blossom, and it is late in April. The
white bare branches of the cotton tree stand out like
silvery lacework, traced in fantastic patterns upon the
bright blue sky. There is nothing of soft, pretty pic-
turesqueness here ; it is all grand, wild, and bare.
" You should have come here in June," says our
driver ; " there will be plenty of greenery and flowers
then. Of course everything is looking dry and thirsty
now ; we haven't had a drop of rain since last August.
It's due now, though ; we're expecting showers every
day."
ill .
!
256 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
We get out of the carriap;e at the month of the
canon, and make our way through this wonderful
chasm on foot as best we can, ch'mbinf^ over the rough,
liroken bouhlors crossing and recrossing the creek,
now on ^'elled tree-trunks, balancing ourselves on
stones or stumps, climbing up slippery banks, beneath
the shadow of the great gray rocks which lift their
rugged heights five hundred feet above our head.
Looking up we see a band of blue sky. We are wander-
ing through a twilight world ; not a gleam of sunshine
ever strays into these mysterious depths. We are sur-
rounded on all sides by these dark, jagged rocks — above,
below, everywhere — as though they would crowd round
and crush us. Here and there a gnarled skeleton tree
starts from some deep fissure, as though it had wasted
its life trying to get out ; and the gurgling waterfalls,
gliding down from their home in the mountains to join
the brawling stream below, makes a pleasant plashing
music to our ears. We spend two hours amid the
gloomy grandeur of Cheyenne Canon, and return to
the hotel in time for dinner.
The next morning early we start for the " Garden
of the Grods," which is no paradise of shady groves
and blooming flowers, but a collection o"^ bright red
rocks of most curious formations, covering an area
of about fifty acres. At the entrance to the garden
stand two tall red sandstone cliffs, rising sheer up
from the ground to a height of three hundred feet.
Glancing through these gigantic gates, and framed
as it were with' n them, we see " Pike's Peak " flashing
its icy crown in the face of the sun. It is seventy-
five miles away, but it is so clearly outlined it seems
quite near. We fancy we can distinguish the cattle
THE SILVER STATE.
257
grazing among the blue foothills below. We enter
between these gates and find ourselves amid what
might even be the ruins of some grand God-created
cathedral, created and ruined before the age of man ;
the tall straight columns still stand crumbling in the
deserted aisles, and the •' garden " is spread like a
panorama before us ; the bright red sandy ground,
rising and undulating in all directions, is embroidered
with silvery sage brush and tufts of gray-green prairie
grass ; here and there the straggling evergreen trees
struggle into a dwarfed, half-barren life. Their scanty
verdure is, however, a relief to the eyes, for the
intense blue skies and the golden sunlight, shining
on the red rocky world round us, form a mass of
brilliant colouring that is dazzling to the sight, and
contrasts strongly with the massive white rocks which
stand outside the garden gates. Weird, strange figures
and half-formed fantastic shapes are on all sides of us,
sometimes grotesque, like things seen in a dream, but
always realistic and impressive. Local genius has
classified these wonderful formations, and given to
'them familiar names ; but the glib guide's chatter is
wearisome. We prefer to wander at our leisure
through this marvellous locality, and let our ima-
gination run riot amid this warm glow of brilliant
colouring and world of petrified wonders. It is easy
to fancy that this must have been the vground
or workshop of some athletic gods of old, v>ho were
disturbed in their work or in their play v. hen the
thunder of the Almighty Yoice rolled down the moun-
tain-side and called them home. The laggards were
turned to stone ; the warrior, with his broken club,
is half-buried in the ground • and the tall figure of a
258
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
\m
veiled nun and hooded friar are rooted to tlie earth,
where they are doomed to stand for all the world's
wonder till the judgment day.
We cast many a long-, lingering look behind us as
we leave this fascinating spot, this veritable region of
enchantment, which holds our thoughts chained long
after it has passed from our sight. We drive on to
Glen Eyrie, where there are some curious rocky forma-
tions of various colours — green, purple, and a dull dead
gold ; and, rising amid a very wilderness of cott;.ii-
wood and fir-trees, stands a group of gigantic needle-
rocks — tall, straight-pointed shafts, which might be
used to sew a broken world together. There are
various other grotesque formations, grouped in har-
monious confusion amid a luxuriant growth of ever-
greens, which flourish here in greater perfection than
in the wide open plains above. A stream of sparkling
water runs gurgling through the glen. Clinging,
as it seems, like an eyrie's nest to the face of the cliff
on the opposite side, is a lovely villa, the residence of
General Palmer, the owner of the glen ; from this spot
the view of the surrounding scenery is unequalled fot
its extent and picturesqueness.
On our return journey we drive to the Ute pass,
which, for the grandeur and sublimity of its scenery, is
second to none. Not the ghost of an Indian is to be *
seen now on this their once favourite hunting-ground ;
its narrow winding paths — with steep precipice and
brawling river running below on the one side, and the
tall gray cliff rising on the other, sometimes over-
hanging above as though they might fall and crush us
— are crowded now with waggon-trains, cattle, lumber-
carts, and squadrons of men, women, and children all
THE SILVER STATE.
259
are
har-
pass,
IS
plodding their way to the Leadville mines near a
hundred miles away. We could not abandon ourselves
wholly to the beauty of the scenery, for we were
occasionally diverted by the cries and shouts of the
men as they extricated some little staggering calf from
between our horses' hoofs or carriage wheels, while
the poor mother lowed piteously in at the window,
her horns in unpleasant proximity to our faces. We
went as far as the Rainbow Falls, and then drove back
through the pass, and thence to Manitou, where
we pulled up for a few minutes and drank some de-
licious draughts from the sparkling soda springs.
During the whole of this route our attention was
constantly directed to some lovely homes, built some-
times on the hillsides, sometimes nestling at their feet,
but always on some choice picturesque spot. These,
we were told, are generally inhabited by English
gentlemen, and one or two exceedingly pretty villas
were pointed out to us as the residences of some
American ladies of literary and artistic distinction.
It was late in the afternoon as we rattled over the
breezy uplands and across the bleak, bare plains, back
to Colorado Springs. We caught many a glimpse of
the gigantic gates, which guard the bright red garden
of the gods ; in fact, they form the chief point in the
landscape for many miles round. We regretted bitterly
the compulsory shortness of our stay in this wonderful
region ; but we must " move on," leaving the utmost
grandeur unseen. We had heard so much of the
beautiful valleys, verdure-clad ravines, gloomy gorges,
and almost inaccessible mountains, rugged and ice-
bound with eternal snows. Among the most regretted
of these unseen wonders is the mountain of the " Holy
260
THROUGH CITTER AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
illl
lliil
Cross." This most remarkable mountain is nearly
fifteen thousand feet high, and the ascent is so difficult
that few attempt it. A contemporary describes it
thus : —
" The characteristic which gives it its name, is the
vertical face, nearly three thousand feet in depth, with
a cross at the upper portion, the entire fissures being
filled with snow. The cross is of such remarkable
size, and distinct contrast with the dark granite rock,
that it can be seen nearly eighty miles away, and easily
distinguished from all other mountain-peaks. The
snow seems to have been caught in the fissure, which
is formed of a succession of steps, and here, becoming
well lodged, it remains all the year. Late in the
summer the cross is very much diminished in size by
the melting of the snow. A beautiful green lake lies
at the base of the peak, which forms a reservoir for the
waters falling from the high peaks. The perpendicular
arm of the cross is fifteen hundred feet in length, and
fully fifty feet in breadth, the snow lying in the crevice
from fifty to one hundred feet in depth ; the horizontal
arm of the cross averages seven hundred feet."
Although Colorado is a rainless land, water is
plentiful, rivers and streams are abundant enough, and
the system of irrigation is perfect. In no other part of
this vast continent are there more fertile, flourishing
farms, or such a production of gigantic fruits and
vegetables ; they tell of cabbages weighing forty
pounds — potatoes, apples, grapes, in fact, fruits and
vegetables of all kinds, in similar proportions.
July and August are the best months for a tour in
Colorado ; then the mountain-passes are open, the snow
has almost disappeared fiom the higher regions, and
THE SILVER STATE.
261
the beautiful parks and valleys lying among the
mountains are easy of access, while the gloomy gorges
and marvellous canons, inaccessible at other seasons of
the year, may be fully explored. There are some
curious laws in Colorado. Any man who may be found
spending his time in public-houses, saloons, gambling-
houses, etc., and who is without any visible means of
support, is liable to be arrested as a " vagrant,'' and
upon being convicted by a justice of the peace, he is
handed over to the sheriff's officer, to be sold at public
auction to the highest bidder, for his services, for a
term not exceeding three months. The proceeds of the
sale to be given to his family, or, if he has no family,
the money is added to the city treasury. I have just
read a case in a Leadville paper : "' Charles Green,
having been convicted of vagrancy, was ordered to be
sold at auction, and was placed on sale in front of
Justice MacDowall's court yesterday forenoon, and
auctioned off by Marshall Watson. Either his services
were not considered valuable, or the principle of buying
at auction was not favourably entertained, for the vag
only fetched two dollars. Mr. Wyman was the success-
ful bidder."
262 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
m
CHAPTER XXIY.
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
The Road to St. Louis — Tho Kansas Brigands' Exploit — Pic-
turesquo Population — Mississippi Eiver — Washington — The
Capitol — Public Buildings — Society — A Monument to a Lost
Cause — Mount Vernon.
We rest one more night in Denver, and start early next
morning for St. Louis, via Kansas City. We soon feel
as though we have left all the beauty and brightness of
the world behind ; for anything more dreary than the
road thither cannot well be imagined. The whole day
long, from morning till night, we look out upon the dull,
uninteresting prairie land ; the icy peaks, snow-clad
mountains, and verdant valley have all disappeared, as
though the magic plains had collapsed with all their
wonders. We see nothing but the dreary dead level
covered with short tufts of buffalo grass, so much
beloved and so nutritious to the beasts of the plains.
The road is strewn with the bones and bodies of dead
cattle, some seeming to have dropped but yesterday,
others bare skeletons, their bones bleached dry and
white in the crisp rarefied air. No loathsome flies or
birds of prey are hovering in the air ; for the bodies do
not decay, they simply dry up, and in time the bones
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
263
crumble into atoms, like pulverized stone. It is a
pitiful scene. The poor brutes have wandered from the
herded numbers, to freeze and starve on these bleak
plains. It is dull gray weather, the blue has faded
from the skies, and for the greater part of the time a
drizzling rain is falling. We buy a paper of the
perambulating newsboy, and read the startling in-
telligence, that only yesterday, on this very journey,
two swaggering ruffians, armed to the teeth, had
boarded the train at a small wayside station ; the con-
ductor recognized them at once as the two notorious
brigands, Jesse and Henry James, whose illustrated
" Lives and Exploits " were at that time, by a strange
coincidence, being sold on the cars for twenty-five cents.
" For God's sake, keep quiet — take no notice, what-
ever they do," whispered the anxious conductor to the
rather alarmed passengers ; but tliey were evidently
" off duty," neither robbery nor murder were on the
cards that day. They swaggered about the cars,
talking and laughing loudly, their very aspect creating
alarm, as no one knew what might come next. They
presently selected a table, ordered " supper and a
bucket of champagne — quick as greased lightning, too."
Their order was obeyed promptly as might be ;
they flung their six-shooters on the table before them,
enjoyed a hearty meal, becoming quite hilarious
towards the end ; then readjusted their arms, stopped
the train in the middle of the wilderness, stepped off
the platform, saying — •
" Charge two more suppers to the Government."
No such adventure befalls us ; we have a mere
commonplace journey, with no genial companionship to
brighten the way. So, for nearly eight hundred miles,
264 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
we journey through this interminahle desert land.
During the last hundred miles, however, signs of culti-
vation begin to appear. The first sight of green fields
is blessed and refreshing to our eyes. Herds of cattle,
thousands strong, are feeding on these wide Kansas
j)lains, and presenth" homesteads and farmhouses are
dotted here and there, ^ying in the laps of their own
cultivated lands. Soon, among the gathering twilight
shadows, there looms upon our sight a wide-spreading
city, rising from the level plains. This is Kansas
City. We steam into the station ; there is a general
hubbub and confusion on the platform, which is
crowded with a heterogeneous mass of humanity. There
is the half-breed, clothed in a flour-sack or blanket ; the
cattle-dealer, in his quaint-cut fustian ; and a scanty
few western tourists going eastward. There is a great
pushing and struggling, everybody rushing in search
of the right train, often getting into the wrong one ;
engines are whistling and dashing in and out of the
station, going to or coming from all points of the
States. We wait here half an hour for refreshments ;
there is a capital buffet, where you may get anything
you require at a moderate price. For any one who is
not professionally interested in agricultural progress,
there is no temptation to stay in Kansas City. We
change carriages, having secured our sleeping-car, and
proceed on our way. Next morning about eight o'clock
we reach St. Louis.
Once more we are in a land of bricks and mortar ; the
air is close, warm, the atmosphere what is best under-
stood by " muggy." We breathe the air with a sense
of depression, both physically and mentally, and in the
course of twenty-four hours our energies had left us so
BRICKB AND MORTAR.
265
completely, we thought they would never come back.
The city is a fine, large, substantial one, with long
streets and fine houses, with the usual amount of public
buildings, churches, theatres, and other places of
amusement. It is full of bright, bustling life, flourish-
ing trade, and thriving manufactories ; there is a look
of settled solidity about it that contrasts strongly with
the Western cities we have been lately passing through.
In some respects we might almost fancy ourselves
transported back to London. Here are the omnibuses,
tramcars, the gas-lamps, the long rows of tall houses,
the hazy atmosphere, and the suffocating air of a damp
July day ; a gray, cloudy sky above, and the glorious
Mississippi rolling sluggishly through the town in a
state of far more muddy impurity than our own much-
maligned Thames. An extremely light and elegant
bridge, both for foot-passengers or carriages, spans the
river and connects one jjart of the city with the other.
There are pretty little parks or pleasure-grounds break-
ing out in all parts of the crowded town for the people's
benefit. On the outskirts there are two very beautiful
and extensive pleasure-grounds — Tower • Grove and
Forest Park ; the former having been presented to the
city by an English gentleman who has been a resident
there for many years. It is beautifully laid out in
shady walks and drives ; great taste has been used in
the arrangement of the rare shrubs, trees, and flowers,
which are everywhere displayed to the best advantage.
Forest Park is farther away from the town, and is on
a wilder, larger scale, and rich in natural beauties.
There are grand old forest trees, bosky dells, green
slopes, and shady nooks and corners, with a rich
luxuriant growth of green everywhere. So far St.
266 TIIROTJGII CITIKS AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
Louis reminds us of our native land ; but on closer
observation, as we ramble through the streets and round
about the town, we realize the fact that we are in a
strange country. We explore the markets, and they
abound in all quarters of the town, and street stalls,
which are likewise plentiful. Here are bushels of cocoa-
nuts, yams, sweet potatoes, egg and oyster plants, rich
gold and red bananas a quarter of a yard long, and all
kinds of tropical fruits and flowers, and crowds of
coloured people everywhere, engaged in every possible
kind of business — a bright, busy, industrious population ;
groups of curly-headed coloured children, slates and
J satchels in hand, hurrying to or from school, chattering
and fluttering round like so many magpies. Little
i brown babies are paddling about, making mud-pies in
I the gutter, with a mingling of white babies joining in
; the fun ; women flash about with their short cotton
skirts, big gold earrings, and kerchiefs of all the colours
of the rainbow pinned across their breasts, or bound
turban-like round their heads. The weather had par-
■ tially cleared, and a lurid red sun looked down through
the murky clouds on this semi-tropical city, as we took
our last stroll through the busy kaleidoscopic streets.
We stayed just long enough to get a glimpse at the
outer aspect of the city, and to test the hospitality of
one of its most prominent members, which was cha-
racterized by all the hearty cordiality of our friends at
home. St. Louis, I believe, is justly proud of its culti-
vated and refined society, of which Judge H. J
and his charming wife are most attractive represen-
tatives. We spent a brief but pleasant time in their
genial society, and only regretted our inability to stay
longer and enjoy more of it.
HRTCKS AND MORTAK.
2()7
Another two days' railway travelling throngh the
populous Eastern States; through manufacturing towns
and agricultural regions, with signs of prosperity and
well-doing everywhere ; through straggling villages
and grassy meadows — no wild, uidcempt lands, gloomy
canons, or weird ravines flash past us now — we reach
Washington late in the evening, and drive through
the brilliantly lighted streets to our hotel, the Ebbitt
House, one of the most luxurious ai^d delightful resting-
places. In the morning we begin our usual campaign,
and issue forth to reconnoitre the city — the finest and
fairest of all the modern cities we have ever seen, or
I believe we ever shall see (San Francisco excepted :
that stands unique and alone). Its situation is most
picturesque ; it stands at the head of the beautiful
Potomac river, a chain of low wooded hills forming a
kind of amphitheatre, behind and around it. The city
was planned by George Washington during his early
days at Mount Vernon, and his design has been carried
out in every particular, and has resulted in the pro-
duction of one of the finest residential cities in the
world ; for Washington is by no means a busy, money-
making, mercantile city. It is one of the most aris-
tocratic quarters — if we may use that term in this
republican laud. Here is the seat of Government, and
thither flock the diplomatic corps with their wives and
families. The army and navy, the medical and legal
professions, are also largely represented ; for the pulse
of the nation seems to require constant regulating, like
a Brummagem watch with the mainspring out of order ;
and the legal machine is always at hand, well oiled and
in good order, ready to right the wrong, or wrong the
right, as the case may be. There is society here, too,
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
A
1.0
I.I
1.25
£f Ufi
IIIM
w 11111^^=
ll-'-«
1.4
1.6
V]
<^
/^
v:
'^ >
y
y^
''if %
L
i
\i-
268
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
which keeps rigidly to its own lines, and allows no
doubtful outsider to set foot within its magic circle.
You must have your credentials ready, and well attested,
for delivery at the doors. There are gradations of
society here as elsewhere, from the elite and fashion
of the White House, to the lowest rung of the social
ladder. Each forms its own circle ; one rarely touches
the other; each keeps distinct and to itself. The
equality and fraterni1;y system, if indeed it exists any-
where, certainly ends here, and Madam Etiquette holds
sovereign sway. No fear of meeting a man-milliner in
her domain ; everything is exclusive and select ; every-
body as a rule knows " who's who," and if they do not
they take the quickest and surest means to find out. A
visit to the consul of any special nation is generally
satisfactory in such personal matters.
It is a positive pleasure to walk about the streets of
"Washington ; they are all wide, beautifully clean, and
paved with tiles as red as cherries, with rows of shady
trees on either side — a luxuriant regiment keeping guard
over the quaint, old-fashioned-looking brick houses
behind. There are no ragged edges, or jagged fringe
of squalid homes, clinging to the skirts of the town.
It is all neatly finished up ; there are no dilapidated
sidewalks, or rugged roadways ; it is everywhere
smooth and pleasant, either for driving or walking.
There are wide streets of handsome shops, as well
stocked and tastefully arranged as those on the Paris
Boulevards.
The public buildings are generally of fine white
marble, or of sandstone painted to resemble it, and
most impressive and massive structures they are. The
Patent Office is really a splendid edifice — a fine specimen
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
269
rell
of Doric architecture, most striking for its simple,
majestic grandeur; the body is of sandstone painted
white, but the wings are of pure marble. The
Treasury is also remarkably impressive ; it has a
colonnaded front 330 feet long, supported by thirty
elegant Ionic columns, and is flanked on either side
by extensive buildings of massive granite masonry,
which breaks the monotony of the long colonnaded
front of the chief building ; it has several magnificent
porticoes, and on either side of the platform or steps
leading thereto are masses of beautiful shrubs and
flowers. About the centre of the city, and dominating
the landscape for miles round, stands the Capitol, high
and mighty in its pure architectural glory, crowning
a gently swelling hill, and surrounded by a garden
of velvet lawns, and shrubs, and flowers, sloping down
to the wide park-like streets, which radiate from all
sides of it ; its white wings spread on either side. Lofty
flights of marble steps lead to the colonnaded galleries
which encircle the building. The beautiful white dome
(which is only four feet lower than St. Paul's, and,
standing on a cleared space of elevated ground, appears
higher and more imposing), with its graceful spire, is
silhouetted against the bright blue sky. The architec-
ture is purely Corinthian, and in every particular it is
most elaborately finished. The view from the portico of
the Capitol is very fine. The city's self spreads a wide
panorama on all sides, melting away into the softly
swelling hills and wooded valleys beyond; while the
silvery streak of the Potomac seems to creep out from
between the distant hills, gliding and wending its
serpentine way till it meets and merges into the shining
waters of the bay. To give the briefest description
270
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
of the rest of the public buildings, schools, etc., of this
beautiful young city would fill more pages than I
dare devote to the subject ; they are all specimens of
architectural beauty of varied kinds. The Smith-
sonian Institute is perhaps one of the most striking;
it makes no attempt to trench on classic ground, and
is of no special style, but a mingling of many. Some,
who will accept nothing without a name, call it
Romanesque, or Byzantine, or Norman ; it is neither,
but a fanciful rendering of all, and the result is
most striking and effective. The Botanical Gardens,
comprising ten acres of land, lies by me West
Capitol Pai'k, and the elegant conservatories and
beautifully laid out grounds form a prominent feature
in the landscape. Rare trees, and shrubs, and flowers
of every clime are flourishing here ; among them is one
of rare significance, the dumb-cane of South America.
If man or woman taste the sap from the root of this
tree, it destroys their powers of speech.
We could not be in Washington without paying a
visit to the Senate Chamber and House of Representa-
tives, to which the public have free access, even when
the House is sitting. Of course the floor of the house
is occupied by members of Congress. A gallery, three
or four seats deep, runs round the building for the use
of visitors. As we entered, Mr. Thurman was speaking
on the Alabama indemnity. He has a fine presence, a
good delivery, and spoke most eloquently upon the sub-
ject. I don't know whether he was much listened to.
A good deal of parliamentary eloquence is flung to the
wind. Each member had a desk before him. Some were
writing, some were reading the news, some were dozing,
others looked extremely, bored, while a few were having
*
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
271
a genial conversation. The floor was strewn with
papers. Boy-messengers were flashing hither and
thither, larking by the way as though they were just
out of school. The whole scene was wanting in that
grave decorum and order which characterize our own
parliamentary assemblies. On going from one Chamber
to the other — the Senate which represents our House
of Lords — we heard loud talking, it seemed of many
voices. We glanced through the half-open door at the
crowd within, and inquired of the thin, loose-jointed
individual who was lounging about on the threshold
taking his duty easily, " if there was anything in-
teresting going on ? "
" They're doing nothing," he answered, with
supreme contempt ; " they're always doing nothing —
and they take a long time about it. They've been
a-filibustering and a-filibustering all day, and I suppose
they'll go on all night. I'm sick of 'em."
There are lovely drives all round Washington City,
some of historic interest. Our first visit was to
Arlington House, the home of General Robert Lee ;
it is but a short drive from the city, and -stands in a
most prominent position on Arlington Heights, sur-
rounded by lovely scenery, and in the distance, loom-
ing out of the city's midst, stands the Capitol " with
white dome lifted." At the close of the war the estate
was confiscated, and a great portion of the beautiful
grounds was set apart as a burial-ground for the
Union soldiers. On every side, stretching away into
the dim distance, are graves — graves everywhere ;
thousands upon thousands of them, not raised in
mounds, but under the smooth turfed ground. Each
one is marked by a stone about a foot high, setting
272
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
forth the name and age of the sleeper below. It
seems a strange fatality that the home of the grand
old rebel soldier should be the resting-place of the
federal dead. In one part of the grounds stands a
massive granite sarcophagus, which is placed over the
bones of two thousand one hundred and eleven un-
known soldiers, gathered from the battle-field of " Bull
Run " and the route to Rappahannock after the war.
The house is dismantled now, and our hollow footsteps
echo through the vacant passages and empty chambers.
As we wander through the deseited dwelling, we
scarcely feel we are alone. The ghost of the dead days
seems to be an ever-haunting presence there. Arling-
ton House, in its isolated lonely state, stands there as
a most melancholy monument to a lost cause.
Outside, at the back of the house, are the kitchens,
stables, and slave quarters — all empty now, dilapidated
and falling fast to ruin, like ghastly skeleton homers,
scarred with many memories, and mutely eloquent of
the days that have been. On our way homeward we
drove through the beautifully picturesque grounds of
the " Soldiers' Home," which consists of about five
hundred acres, tastefully laid out in lawns, meadows,
gardens, and lakes, and about seven miles of drives
winding now by the lake side, or under the shady
trees, or through the blooming " garden of roses."
Our next visit was to the home of Washington, the
founder and father of the Union. Mount Yernon is
situated about fifteen miles from Washington, down the
Potomac river, passing through pretty home scenery,
and some highly interesting spots by the way. "W e
have splendid views of the Arsenal grounds which run
along the banks of the river, and the Government
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
273
home for the insane, a ma<^rilficent buildini^ standing
on elevated ground east of tlie city. Presently we
pass Fort Foote and Fort AVashi ngton. Every rood of
ground on either side of this lovely Potomac is marked
by the footprints of the war, and is historied and en-
riched with its many memories. At length we reach
Mount Yernon — a spot dear to American hearts of
every degree, however one man may differ from
another in social, political, or sectarian matters. What-
ever tumult may rack the State, or tear at the spirit
of the Union, all unite in their reverence for this one
noble dead. AVhen the horrors of war ceased ^or an
hour, thither came men from both armies, with hands
red with their brothers' blood ; but here all was peace.
The bitter enmity and hatred which convulsed the
land was forgotten here ; and the men in blue and the
men in gray stood side by side, bared their heads, and
bent reverently as before a shrine, by the grave of the
father of their country.
General Washington is laid to rest in the grounds of
his own home ; we pass his tomb on our way to the
house. Everything here is kept in perfect order ; the
quaint garden, designed and laid out by Washington
himself in the fashion of the old days, with odd-shaped
beds, and thick box borders about a foot high, is filled
with gay, sweet-scented, rather than rare, flowers ; on
the lawn there are several trees, and a hoary old hedge "
four feet high, and four feet thick, all planted by the be-
loved G-eneral's own hand, nearly a hundred years ago ;
and they are all green and flourishing, as though they
meant to live another century at least. Here also is
a superb magnolia tree, reared from a slip brought by
the hand of Lafayette from St. Helena. The slave
274
TIIROUOn CITIES AND PRAIRIE LAXDS.
quarters, gardeners' cottages, laundries, stables, etc.,
are all ranged on the lawn at the back of the house.
These are still occupied by coloured people, thj direct
descendants of those slaves who were raised on tlie
place in the old days ; and they are as proud of their
race, and their connection with the Washington family,
as though they had descended from a line of kings.
They are a very superior and obliging class of people,
and provide an excellent lunch for visitors, at a very
moderate price.
Mount Yernon, though very beautifully situated,
and surrounded by fine views, sloping away from all
sides of it, is not so imposing an edifice as Arlington
House. It is built of wood to imitate stone, and has
a long, wide verandah running along the front. The
rooms are small, with the exception of the banqueting
hall, which, in comparison with the rest, is a large,
handsome apartment. Here are some fine old oil paint-
ings, and portraits of Washington and his family, with
some few miscellaneous curiosities ; among them, the
key of the Bastile, presented by General Lafayette.
So much loving reverence surrounds the name of
" Washington," that every room in the house is named
after a particular State, which holds it in special
care. The rooms are all furnished after the fashion of
the old time ; many still contain the Chippendale furni-
ture that was used by the Washington family ; there
is the General's own escritoire, with its numerous
pigeon-holes, and cunning secret drawers, the chair he
sat in, and the bed he died on, in exactly the same
position, and with the same coverlid and fast-fading
hangings as when he left it. There is not a speck of
dust to be seen anywhere. The house and grounds are
BRICKS AND MORTAR.
275
the property of the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association,
and everything is arranged and carried on under their
personal supervision and care. Every relic having
the remotest connection with General Washington is
gathered together here, and most carefully preserved.
A sweet scent of the old dead days lingers every-
where ; even the roses that climb round the verandah
have a perfume all their own — different, it seems, from
other roses. As we retrace our steps through the
quaint garden, down Washington's favourite path, be-
tween the thick box hedges, in our mind's eye (which
sees so much more than mortal sight) we see him walk-
ing before us, in his cocked hat and periwig, with
head bent down, and hands clasped behind him, exactly
as, we are told, he used to walk there, to and fro, a
hundred years ago.
ith
the
are
276
THROUGH CITIES AND PIUIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XXY.
THE QUAKER CITY.
Baltimore — Its Stony Streets — Druids' Park — A Stroll through the
City — Aristocratic Quarters — Washington Monument — Phila-
delphia — General Aspect — Picturesque Market Street — Fair-
mount Zoological Gardens.
A TWO hours' drive and we are at Baltimore, one of the
busiest and brightest of Southern cities, with miles of
streets running in all directions, in a state of labyrin-
thine uncertainty, as though they did not know which
way to. turn, or where to go next ; some are straight
and wide, some narrow and crooked. The houses are
of many colours ; they scorn to be bound to the common-
place rules of mere bricks and mortar ; you may see a
pink front blushing near a sombre gray, a creamy
white or chocolate, picked out with amber, elbowing a
bright blue, or olive-tinted green ; the side-walks are
paved with cherry-red tiles, and all this varied colour-
ing, together with the quaint style of street archi-
tecture, gives the city a gay, picturesque appearance.
The business thoroughfares are overflowing with
the hurry and bustle of life, and at certain hours of the
day the side-walks are crowded with a jostling multi-
tude, fluctuating to and fro, while the roadways are
alive with many-coloured cars, dashing hither and
THE QUAKER CITY.
277
thither. It is pleasant enough riding on tramways, but
you cannot enjoy the luxury of a private carriage —
without running tlie risk of dislocation, at least ; for
the roads are of the roughest cobble-stones. The
vehicles, driven at reckless speed, lurch and plunge
from side to side, and bump you up and down. You
hold on to the sides breathlessly, feeling they must
topple over. But they don't ; they land you at your
destination alive, though with splitting head and aching
bones. You are disposed to patrontee the humble cars
in future ; and the cars go everywhere, and one bright
morning they landed us at Druids' Park.
You enter through a lofty pair of handsome iron
gates, inta a wide avenue, flanked on either side by
stone vases fifteen feet high, filled with evergreens in
winter, and in summer with showy flowers. The
Baltiniore folk are very proud of their Druids' Park ;
and well they may be, for it is a most lovely spot, con-
sisting of about five hundred acres of land beautifully
laid out, their natural attractions being supplemented,
not overwhelmed, by art. There are clumps of grand
old forest trees, grassy slopes, and shady dells, filled
with evergreen shru.bs, feathery ferns, and sweet wild
flowers, and a silvery lake, w^inding like a glittering
white serpent through a paradise of green. Groups of
cokmred folk, with their wives and rollicking little
piccaninnies, and young men with their swarthy
sweethearts, all sprucely dressed in broadcloth and fine
linen, with flowers in their button-holes, light-gloved,
and patent-booted, their faces shining, as though they
had been extra polished by Nixey's patent, are stroll-
ing under the trees, or sit chatting beneath their
branches. The women, as a ride, wear less gaudv
278
THROUOri CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
colours than their sisters at St. Louis, and altogether
seem of a better-educated class.
Any lady desiring to enjoy the luxury of shopping,
should postpone that pleasure till she gets to Balti-
more, where there are plenty of shops, well stocked,
and well arranged with every possible kind of fancy
articles, as well as the necessary articles for daily use,
and at certainly one-third less price than she would
pay in most of the Eastern cities ; besides this ad-
vantage, she will bte treated with respect and civility,
which does not seem indigenous to the nature of the
American shopkeeper or his subordinates.
Tlie residential part of the city, viz. Monument
Square (and such-like fashionable localities), has a
quiet, dull, deserted appearance, like a country town
on Sundays when the shops are shut and the good
folk are all at church, undergoing their spiritual ab-
lutions. The houses in these aristocratic quarters of
the city are more uniform and monotonous than the
busier portions, and yet there is a picturesqueness in
the monotony of the long rows of tall brick houses,
picked out with white, the white steps projecting on
to the red-tiled pavement, while. rows of green trees
stretch their green arms before them. In every city
throughout the United States statues of their beloved
founder, George Washington, abound — some execrable,
some well enough to look at ; but that which occupies
the centre of Monument Square is a finely conceived
and splendidly executed piece of work. There is no
exaggeration, no attempt at ornament or decoration
about it — a tall, fluted column rises from a square
stone platform, surmounted at the top by an effigy of
General George Washington ; it is no theatrical figure
TIIK QUAKER CITY.
279
of an impossible utlileto in an attitude of patriotic
ardour or military devotion. He stands in the position
of a simple gentleman, as he may have stood many
times in the flesh, with folded arms, looking out over
the city to Chesepeake, where the stars and stripes of
the Union he founded are streaming now from scores
of vessels in the beautiful bay.
The hotel accommodation is comfortable enough,
and no doubt answers all the requirements of the
mercantile population who are constantly passing to
and fro this busy trading city, for the river is filled
with shipping from all parts of the world, and the
wharfs swarming with a working population, loading
and unloading the vessels ; the visitor who runs down
for a glimpse at these characteristic localities gets
bewildered in the tangled collection of cranks, cattle,
and the surging mass of pushing, shouting humankind.
The hotels are wanting in some of those luxurious
arrangements to which the tourists thi'ough the great
cities of America have grown so accustomed as to
regard them as necessities.
Our next point of attraction was • Philadelphia,
which delightful city we entered under most favour-
able auspices ; the atmosphere was bright, warm, and
cloudless. We caught our first glimpse of it from our
car-windows, and beheld it afar oft" lying in the sun-
shine, its shining domes and cupolas outlined in the
broad blue skies, and its myriad spires lifted lance-like
in the air. On arriving there and first driving
through the long, stately streets, we were struck by
the number of magnificent buildings we passed on our
route — marble fronts, marble columns, marble steps,
marble everywhere.
.
280
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
The city is clothed with architect aral beauty on
whichever side you look. The public buildings,
academies, churches, etc., are all, without exception,
magnificent structures, some most striking from their
grand simplicity, others from their varied and fanciful
picturesqueness. Mr. Lippincott has published a guide
to " Philadelphia and its Environs," profusely and
beautifully illustrated with woodcuts of many im-
portant private dwellings and all the public buildings,
the centennial erections in Fairmount Park, and some
of the lovely scenery surrounding it. When you have
" done " the city, you will not throw aside your guide,
but keep it as a pleasant refresher to your memory in
after days. It is a pleasure to walk up and down the
clean, pretty streets, with their quaint old houses.
Every window has an outside protection from the
summer sun ; some have the thick wooden shutters
rarely seen in these days, others have green Venetians,
which makes you feel you are in a semi-tropical
region.
The streets running one way across the town al-e
named after different trees, which at one time were
supposed to have flourished on their site — such as
" Chestnut," " Pine," " Spruce," " Filbert," etc. ; those
running in an opposite direction are simply numbered
on the same plan as that followed in New York.
Market Street, one of the great trading thoroughfares,
runs straight across the city from one river to the
other ; it is a splendid street, a hundred feet wide.
In Penn's time this was the High Street of the city.
Some of the houses have gaily striped awnings,
stretching across to the roadway ; some have flags or
banners flying, and adopt other fanciful means of
THE QUAKER CiiZ.
281
calling attentioi? to their special attractions. A full-
length figure of Pocahontas, or some other savage
celebrity, geaerally stands at the door of the retail
tobacconists, offering a pinch of snuff to the passer-by.
An eagle spreads its wings over one Art Gallery, while
a lion in a cocked hat paws the air on the opposite
side. Altogether, the streets have always a gay,
festive appearance.
The great thoroughfares are crowded with pedes-
trians and vehicles of all description. Wholesale and
retail trading we know is being briskly carried on ;
but there is no skurry or confusion anywhere, no
pushing and jostling ; the living stream flows evenly
to and fro ; business seems to be conducting itself in a
quiet, orderly fashion. Taken altogether, Philadelphia
is a sedate city ; there is an air of severe respectability
and old-world solidity about it, ^ve feel it would take
a great deal to stir its substantial self-possession. It
lies between the Delaware and Schuylkill rivers, and
covers an area of great extent ; it is nearly double the
size of New York, with a population considerably less.
There are no overcrowded quarters here, no narrow
courts or gloomy alleys, no tall tenement houses, like
with human creatures,
warrens.
swarming
rabbit
sheltering hundreds w^ithin its reeking, dilapidated
w^alls, where there is scarcely room for a score to Hve
and breathe in. Everywhere in Philadelphia there is
room " to turn round in, to breathe, and be free."
No grim poverty parades the streets, no sickly
faces turn to the wall, no wolf-eyed hunger lurks in
corners ; the working population looks healthy, strong,
and self-respecting, free from that communistic element
which is agitating tlie far Western cities. Every man,
282
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
from the lowest rniig in the ladder, can rear his family
in a home of his own if he pleases ; rent is cheap, and
the smallest cottage has its bath-room, wash-house,
and patch of garden-ground. The city is confined
within no limits ; it has overflowed the river on either
side, where there is plenty of room for it to stretch its
limbs and grow, as it has grown, with its beautiful
suburban branches, Kensington, Southwark, Grerman-
town, etc. It is growing still ; elegant villas, sub-
stantial squares, and meandering streets are springing
up as fast as they can, clinging to the skirts of the
great city, which is like a monstrous body, with arms
as long as a gigantic octopus, reaching away on all
sides, seizing all it can, or like a loadstone attracting
all to itself.
Philadelphia is rich, too, in historical associations,
and has preserved many interesting relics of the old
times ; for a century acquires the dignity of age in the
New World, and anything that is a hundred years old
is considered worthy of a pilgrimage. Penn's cottage,
occupied by him in 1701, is still extant; so far it has
escaped the improving mania which has swept so
many of the old landmarks away. It is a small, un-
pretentious brick building, two storeys high, situated in
Letitia Street, near the market, and quite overshadowed
by the fine buildings which have sprung up round it.
Indeed, many of the old interesting homes of the earlier
settlers have wholly disappeared ; others are elbowed
away out of sight, to make way for the elegant villas
and marble palaces of the present generation of wealthy
Philadelphians, who form a nucleus of the most refined
and cultivated society to be found in any quarter of
Ihe world. The oldest inhabitants of the State have
THE QUAKER CITY.
283
still their representatives in Pennsylvania, though
they congregate mostly in the city. Thither, in early
days, came wandering branches from some of the best
families in the old countries, and their descendants
still occupy the land. We recognize a kindred spirit
as we walk through the public streets, and feel the
fascination of the Old World mingling with the
vigorous strength of the New.
Philadelphia has not the cosmopolitan character of
New York, and consequently does not present such
varied fluctuating phases of life. It is a sedate
matronly city, with nothing fast or frivolous about
it, and its inhabitants uphold its dignity in a manner
worthy of themselves. The most beautifully pic-
turesque scenery lies round the immediate neighbour-
hood; few cities contain so many attractions within
their grasp. The views on the winding Wissahickon
are especially lovely, with a warm glow and romantic
loveliness which makes one inclined to " linger long
summer days " beside its banks. But Fairmount Park
is, however, Philadelphia's greatest pride ; its position
and its natural beauties are indeed unsurpassed. Lying
along the loveHest part of the Schuylkill river, it
occupies three thousand acres of land, and is one of the
most extensive parks known, being three times larger
than the Grand Central Park, New York — and that,
with its twelve miles of driving roads, strikes every
one with surprise ; but Fairmoimt has double that
space set apart for driving and riding exercise.
At certain hours of the day the streams of hand-
some equipages and regiments of fair equestrians,
driving and riding along the wide curving road by the
river, i)resents a kaleidoscopic scene of great bril-
m
284 THROUGH CITIES AND PllAIRIE I^NDS.
liancy ; it is like a living panorama, which breaks up
and fades like .. dissolving view, as one by one they
turn out of the main drive. Some disappear in groves
of shady trees, or are lost among the romantic hills or
pleasant winding ways which lead, between banks of
blooming flowers, to the more secluded parts of the
ground. But to thoroughly enjoy and appreciate the
beauties of Fairmount Park, you must go on foot,
ramble among its leafy dells and sunny slopes, its
placid lakes hidden away in the heart of the woodlands,
amid the tangled masses of a luxuriant growth of
green, lichen-covered boulders and moss-grown banks,
left to flourish in their natural wilfulness and beauty.
Magnificent fountains have been erected in different
parts of tbo ground, and marble monuments to deceased
statesmen, philanthropists, and heroes are gleaming
white on every side. That to Abraham Lincoln is
perhaps the finest of them all.
In no country in the world are there such extensive
and delightful public parks and pleasure-grounds as in
America. Nature, in most cases, has laid so much
material ready to hand — rocks, hills, wilderness, forest
land, and rivers. Art has but to wave her magic wand,
clear away or reject all she does not require, and
utilize and lay out the rest according to her tasteful
pleasure. Thus, many of the primeval forest trees,
rocky mounds, and sparkling rivers of the dead ages
beautify the recreation grounds of to-day. The
Zoological Gardens, lying along the opposite bank of
the river, promise to be second to none ; they occupy
a vast extent of beautifully laid out ground, and the
different buildings already erected there are architec-
turally pleasant lo tlic c}e, and at the same time those
THE QUAKER CITY.
285
best suited to the requirements, and for the exhibition
of the remarkably fine collection of animals gatheied
therein. The society has agents in all parts of the
world, being resolved to spare neither pains, labour,
nor expense in their endeavour to make their collection
the most perfect of its kind in all the civilized world.
-est
(
nd,
lliU.
iful
3es,
S'es
:he ^ ^
of
ipy '
1
Dne
ec-
ose
«
286
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS,,
CHAPTER XXYI.
SUMMER AMONG THE GOTHAMITES.
A New York Summer — How they meet it — Airy Customs — Coney
Island — Eockaway and Long Branch — A Mountain Village —
Ellenville — View from " Sam's Point."
Philadelphia to New York is a pleasant three hours'
journey, and we were glad to find ourselves settled
down for a few weeks' rest in the " Empire City " — if
rest can be obtained in that electric atmosphere, which
quickens the pulse and fills you with its own restless
life, whether you will or no. We arrived there in the
middle of May. The season was over, their fashionable
season being the reverse of ours, for their gaieties are
at their full flood-tide during the winter months, when
ours are ended — if such things ever do come to an
end in a great city, but it seems to me that the general
mass build up a tolerable palace of pleasure out of the
debris the fashionable world leaves behind it.
Our friends, the few who remained in Gotham to
battle with the fierce summer sun, regretted that we
had come back at the dead season ; but they managed to
make it lively enough. What with excursions on the
water, picnics on land, theatres, and social gatherings
at home, the time passed only too quickly. The days
SUMMER AMOXG THE OOTIIAMITEP.
287
were too short ; if we could lengthen them as we do
our skirts, by adding a flouncing of a few hours, we
should have had engagements enough to fill them.
The weather wv^ unusually warm for May, the ther-
mometer sometimes rising as high as 90° in the shade.
As the weeks passed on, the temperature became
almost unendurable. The coolest place in all New
York was the Madison Square Theatre. The ther-
mometer had mounted to 100° when we received
a box for an afternoon miscellaneous performance in
aid of the Edgar Poe Memorial Statue. Among the
many other things selected for the occasion was an
abridged version of " The Taming of the Shrew," when
Edwin Booth consented to play Petruchio. Nothing
less than a desire to see this celebrated actor would
have tempted us to stir. The sun, like a ball of bur-
nished copper, filled the skies with a heat-created mist,
and poured upon the earth a fiery atmosphere ^that
seemed to burn as it touched you, and the very breeze
might have issued from the mouth of a furnace ; but
we gathered ourselves together — all that was left of
us, for we were gradually melting away — and, armed
with fans, smelling-salts and sundry antidotes to faint-
ing fits, panted our way from Forty-fifth Street to a
Sixth Avenue car, which landed us close to the theatre.
Immediately on entering, we felt as though we had
left the hot world to scorch and dry up outside, while
we were enjoying a soft summer breeze within.
Where did it come from ? The house was crowded —
there was not standing-room for a broomstick ; but the
air was as cool and refreshing as though it had blown
over a bank of spring violets. "VVe learned the reason
of this. By some simple contrivance the outer air,
288 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
circulating tlirou^h and among- tons of ice, is forced
to find its way through a thousand frozen cracks and
crevices before it enters the auditorium ; thus a flow
of fresh air is kept in constant circulation, which
renders an afternoon in Madison kS(i[uare Theatre a
luxury durinf the hottest of dog-days.
The death-roll is terrible during these hot spells,
sometimes amounting from sun-stroke alone to twenty
in a single day. The New Yorkers, however, know
how to make the best of their semi-tropical summer.
The more sensible portion of the masculine population
go about in their linen suits and panama hats, though
some men cling to their beloved chimney-pot and
swelter under a weight of broadcloth ; but no man is
above carrying an umbrella, white, green, or brown,
as the case may be. Rivers of iced lemonade are
flowing at the street corners, at two cents per glass.
You* may see a multitude closing round and pouring
in and out of the " drug stores " (chemists' shops).
You think there must have been an accident — some-
body run over, somebody killed. No such thing ; it
is only the more aristocratic thirsty multitude, who
eschew street corners, crowding in for their iced
drinks. The " drug stores " have, every one, a neat
white marble fountain, with a dozen shining silver
taps, which pour forth streams of fruit-flavoured iced
drinks — pine, cherry, strawberry, raspberry, and lemon
cream soda, the most delicious of all. From early
morning till late in the evening these fountains never
cease playing ; small fortunes pour from their silver
mouths into the pockets of their owners. .-
In the summer evenings the whole indoor popu-
lation of New York seems to overflow on to the
SUMMER AMONG THE GOTHAMITES.
289
ipu-
the
" stoops " of their house. Walking through some of
the best streets, you may glance in at the open
windows, and see the elegantly furnished vacant rooms,
with their luxurious lounges, paintings, mirrors, and
gilded magnificence, mellowed in the low-burning gas-
light, while the inhabitants are taking the air on their
doorsteps. The white moon, shining down on the
yellow gas-lighted streets ; the elevated railroad, rush-
ing with its living freight through the air, blinking
its green-and-red fiery eyes upon the world below ; the
• tall dark houses, with their dimly lighted, luxurious
interiors and family groups, from paterfamilias down
to the youngest-born, the ladies, in their pretty,
fanciful toilettes, taking the air on the doorsteps ; —
all combine to form a pretty picture, quite like a
theatrical scene on the broad stage of life. Rippling
waves of low laughter and scraps of musical chit-chat
follow you as you pass along. This is an old knicker-
bocker custom, which still obtains everywhere except
in the sacred Fifth Avenue, which confines itself
strictly within doors, shrined from the vulgar gaze ;
perhaps the nouveau riche element (being largely re-
presented) is afraid of compromising its dignity by
following old-fashioned customs.
As the weeks passed on the weather became more
and more trying, and we made daily excursions to the
numerous watering-places immediately surrounding
New York, leaving home early in the morning and
returning the same evening, which is easily done.
Coney Island, one of the great resorts for the million,
is reached from the foot of Twenty-third Street in
about an hour. A few years ago it was a mere wide
waste of sand, and was bought by a clever speculator
u
290 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
for a mere song; it is now worth millions of dollars,
and is covered on all sides with a miscellaneous
mass of buildings of all descriptions. Restaurants,
shooting-galleries, pavilions, and refreshment-rooms
to suit all classes, and some monster hotels, of light,
airy structure, lift their faces towards the sea. Culver,
Brighton, and Manhattan Beaches, the one being a
continuation of the other, spread their wide stretch of
silver sand along the side of the island and down to
the blue Atlantic waves below. There are no pleasant
walks or drives, there exists not a tree, there is no
shade from the fierce, blinding sun to be found any-
where. No gray rocks or picturesque battlemented
cliffs; nothing but the level island, with its wide
stretch of silver sand and a world of sea. The hotels
are crowded, every nook and corner of the island filled
to overflowing during the season ; the beach is covered
with a lively mass of holiday-makers, all bent on
enjoying themselves ; gay bunting is flaunting and
flying everywhere ; musicians are hard at work, beat-
ing drums, scraping fiddles, and blowing trumpets, as
though their very lives depended on the noise they
are making. Altogether, it is a gay, stirring scene.
Coney Island is not a place where the fashionable or
aristocratic multitude most do congregate ; it is a
rather fast, jolly, rollicking place, and serves its pur-
pose well, as the health-breathing lungs of a great city.
Rockaway Beach is about half an hour's journey
off, and is disposed to set up a race of rivalry with
Coney Island. Its general aspect is much the same —
flat, level land, and sand, and sea; it is less fre-
quented, less gay, and certainly has not such good
accommodation ; but a very fine hotel is now in course
SUMMER AMONG THE GOTnAMITES.
291
of erection, which promises very superior accom-
modation to visitors. Rockaway is scarcely as flat and
barren as Coney Island ; in its immediate vicinity
clumps of trees are makinp^ praiseworthy efforts to
grow, but at present their long, gaunt branches are
but sparsely covered with green. Long Branch and
Long Island are both of easy access from the upper
part of the city, by ferry and rail ; they are equally
favourite watering-places with those already men-
tioned, though of a rather different character ; they
do not depend for popularity on a floating population,
being the resort (Long Branch especially so) of the
more fashionable public. There are whole legions of
hotels, and squadrons of boarding-houses, together
with numerous elegant villas or cottage residences,
which are let by the season, to such as prefer the
freedom of their own household to establishing them-
selves in an hotel. Many build their own fanciful
dwellings, and migrate thither in early summer, and
remain till the chill autumn breezes drive them back
to the city ; others make it their head-quarters, and
reside there all the year round.
Long Branch is a delightful place. You can choose
your companionship, and join the coteries of pleasant
society, and have as much gaiety or as much social
seclusion as you please. Some of the first-class hotels,
which are largely patronized by transient travellers,
have been erected on the low bluff which rises behind
the strip of sandy beach. A fine wide avenue runs
between them and the sea. They are none of them
grand, imposing-looking buildings, and have no pre-
tensions to architectural beauty, being for the most
part long, low, frame-houses, with wide verandahs and
202 THUOUGH CITIES AND PUAIUIE LANDS.
balconies running wherever it is possible for verandali
or balcony to go. Smooth-shaven, well-kept lawns run
along the front, where there is a deliglitful promenade
extending for nearly two miles, overlooking the sea.
Orchestral music of the best description is provided for
the amusement of the gue .ts ; everything is arranged
for the enjoyment of people of refined, cultivated
taste. Ocean Avenue is the fashionable promenade,
which at certain hours of the day is crowded with
elegant equipages of every description ; from the
bachelor in his " sulky," to the light landau, filled with
pretty, tastefully dressed women, who change their
toilettes half a dozen times in the day, and do a great
deal of dancing and flirting in the evening — too much,
perhaps, for their own good.
Those who prefer soft inland scenery, and mountain
air, to the keen, invigorating sea-breezes, may gratify
their taste in any of the many beautiful rural districts
which surround New York. Their names are legion,
but one of the sweetest and loveliest of them all is
Ellenville, which lies in the heart of the " Shewan-
gunk Mountains." It is a mere mountain village,
pretty, and picturesque in the extreme. There being
only one small hotel in the place, it does not lay itself
out for visitors, but is very glad to see them when
they come. The narrow, winding high street of the
village is a picture in itself. Tiny toy-cottages lie
in the midst of their little gardens, where cabbages
and sunflowers, gooseberry bushes, dahlias, and
wild-rose trees grow together in sweet companion-
ship. Some break out into shop-windows, and your
" butcher and baker and candlestick-maker " show
forth from a bower of green, or hide themselves be-
SUMMER AMONG THE (lOTnAMITKfl.
2on
iieuth liixuriiint grap(3-vines, where you would least
expect to find them.
There are some elegant villa residences nestling
among tall trees, and broken rows of loss pretentious,
but equally pretty dwellings standing in their own
grounds of blooming flowers, and peach and apple
trees, with wide verandahs, where the ladies sit in
their rocking-chairs and work, or lie in a hammock
indulging in dolce far niente, amid the drowsy hum
of bees, and perfume of flowers, reading or dreaming
through the sultry noontide. Planted on either side
of these rust 'o lane-like streets, are rows of tall, wide-
spreading chestnut trees, whose thick umbrageous
branches form a perfect shade. There are several
excellent boarding-houses, and some private families,
who are happy to recei^ 3 temporary residents when
they come with friendly recommendations. We were
received by two charming young orphan ladies, who
made their house a most idyllic home for us during our
too brief stay.
The artist world is beginning to penetrate the
seclusion of this beautifr^ valley, lying so peacefully
within its green girdle of mountains, and are making
rapid acquaintance with its varied scenery, which holds
so many tempting pictures ready grouped for their
brush and canvas. There are hills and river, green
ferny dells, deep ravines cut in the steep mountain-
sides, and rocky chasms, whose mysteries are still un-
explored. Here and there you come upon some of the
loveliest nooks in all creation, full of wondrous lights
and shadows — so still and peaceful, you feel inclined to
lie down with folded hands and be at rest : you could
sleep so soundly there, hidden away from all the world,
until the judgment day.
294 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
It was decided among us that " Sam's Point," a
lofty peak of the Shewangunk, must be visited. We
started one bright morning by a narrow winding road
which is carried along the face of the mountain,
climbing upwards through tangled brushwood, past
banks of flowering laurel, their shining leaves half
hidden by their luxuriant masses of delicate pink
and white blossoms ; up, still up, through forests of
pine and fir, over broken masses of lichen-covered
boulders, with fantastic rocks looming on every side,
and on over sloping stretches of breezy uplands, till we
came to a strip of table-land. The horses pricked up
their ears and put on a " spurt." Poor, tired brutes !
they had travelled that road often enough, and could
find their way to the low-lying shanty, where they
know they are to be stabled for the next hour or two,
without any of our guidance. At this stage of our
journey we came in close view of " Sam's Point," stand-
ing out in clear-cut lines against the sky.
Here, according to the general custom, we unpacked
our luncheon-basket. It was filled with such good
things, and so many of them, we hardly knew which
to begin first. We spread our feast under the shadow
of a belt of dark trees, the last of their line that can
lift their heads and grow on the now barren, flinty
soil. With much fun and laughter we got through a
luxurious meal ; then our general commanding for the
season insisted that we must climb to the very top of
" Sam's Point." - We obey, and start ou a scrambling
expedition up the sloping stony path, where straggling
+^'.orny bushes caught us viciously at every turn. With
the hot sun blazing fiercely upon us, and a high, warm
wind almost blowing us off our feet, we struggled on
SUMMER AMONG THE GOTHAMITES.
295
to the top. No, not quite the top : we halted on a rocky
platform, just below the extreme point, and looked down
from its dizzy, precipitous height upon the lovely land-
scape below, lying in the peaceful smile of a glorious
sunshine, rolling and spreading out hundreds of feet
below, as far as the eye can see. Dark belts of fc 'est
trees outline the distant horizon, thickets and wild woods
sweep down through the hilly defiles, reach out their
green arms, and run like a fancy network of nature's
cunningest pattern over the valleys, while the silver
thread of a river runs round and about, lacing the
green meadow lands together. Scores of white villages,
dwarfed by distance till they look like collections of
dolls' houses, are scattered over the plains or cling to
the sloping hillsides. The colouring, and the lights and
shadows falling everywhere, give an additional charm
to the exquisite picture before us. It holds us like
a magnet ; we cannot tear ourselves away from it ; we
perch ourselves on the narrow parapet and gaze our
fill. There is a mellowness and balm in the atmo-
sphere, and slowly a soft pink mist falls over the land-
scape like a bridal veil, and covers everything with a
tender mystery.
We turn and scramble down the stony path, and are
soon winding our way down the mountain road home-
ward, still feasting our eyes with delicious bits of
scenery as we go along. We drive round among the
foothills to get a view of the Nopanoc falls, which are
only about half an hour from Ellenville. They are
not grand or imposing, nor do they fall from any
visible height, but they are beautiful from their wild
surroundings, and come creaming and foaming down the
rugged mountain-sides, till they reach the stony bed
296 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
below, and flow on beneath our feet to their far-oflf
watery home ; they seem arranged by nature for
transfer to an artist's canvas. Tired though we were
with our long day's outing, we enjoyed our homeward
drive through the evening shadows. There was no
moon, and the dusky air was full of fireflies, floating
about, like globes of living light ; and the " whip-poor-
will " commenced his melancholy plaint, which he
never utters till the day is done. The bird came to his
curious cognomen something in this wise. A be-
nighted sinner commonly called " Poor Will " was
stumbling home late one night when the bird began
to sing, and to his muddled ears the notes arranged
themselves into the words, " Whip poor Will." He
knew he deserved whipping, and believed that an order
for his future castigation was being despatched
through some mysterious agency to the realms above.
Thenceforth, whipped by the stings of an awakened
conscience, he set to and repented as hard as he had
sinned, and the name stuck to the bird ever after-
wards.
The " whip-poor-will's" notes had hardly died away,
when the frogs, huge green goggle-eyed monsters,
commenced their croaking concert, which is by no
means an unpleasant thing to listen to ; it goes with
a rather musical, monotonous swing, quite different
from the harsh croak of their froggy brethren on our
side of the water.
The next morning we returned to New York, to
rest one more night, our last, in that city previous to
our visit to Boston,, We left Ellenville with much
regret. 1 know of no place where one could so delight-
SUMMER AMONG THE OOTHAMITES.
297
fully dream away the long summer days, as in that
rural little village with its tempting and delightful
surrounding. It is reached by the Erie Railway from
Jersey City, and is about four hours' journey from
New York.
__
298 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XXYII.
THE "AMERICAN ATHENS."
Aboard the Massachusetts — A Perambulation — The Electric Ma-
chine — An Easy Way of committing Suicide — Boston — The
Cars— The Common— The " Glorious Fourth of July."
There had been so many terrible accidents by the
river steamers during the last few weeks, that we were
half inclined to go to Boston by rail ; but on reflection
we determined not to yield to an imaginary evil.
Judging by averages, we ought to have a safe passage,
for one of the finest vessels had been destroyed by
fire only two days before, and great disasters are rarely
continuous. Because misfortune had happened to
other people, it was no reason it should tread upon
our heels also.
Accordingly, we started on one of the finest Provi-
dence Boats, the Massachusetts, for Boston, leaving
New York at five o'clock in the afternoon. We spent
the few remaining hours of daylight in admiring the
river scenery, as our majestic boat steamed towards the
Sound, and enjoying the brisk sea-breezes. Never
had the " briny kisses " of the great sweet mother
seemed so fresh and invigorating. The captain, to
whom we had been previously introduced, invited us
THE " AMERICAX ATHENS.
299
into the wheelhouse, which, contrary to our homo
custom, is lifted high up above the deck, commanding
a clear view of all surrounding objects. There we
watched with great interest the steering and working
of the vessel. The bell seemed always to be ringing
its signal, warning the small craft out of our way, and
informing the larger craft which way we would " keep
her head."
Afterwards we descended into the engine-room, and
found the huge monster well worth seeing — its black
body bound in bright bands, and studded with polished
decorations of brass and steel, like a grim warrior
wearing his coat of mail. We saw him fed with his
vast furnace fires. He seemed always hungry, opening
his red mouth for more food. We watched its gigantic
walking beam rise and fall, in its solemn march across
the world of waters. The vessel in all parts is lighted
by electricity ; and we were allowed to go downstairs
to inspect the generating apparatus. In order to reach
it we had to go through the machinery-room, where
the crashing, groaning, and thudding, the rapid
whirling of wheels, and clanking to and fro of count-
less bars, and the up-and-down stroke of the piston,
deafened our ears, dazzled our eyes, and bewildered our
senses, while the walking beam above, the great pro-
pelling power of all, tramped steadily on.
We passed through this distracting place, crossed a
narrow passage, and at the end of it found ourselves
in an empty room — empty except for the electric
machine, with its invisible wonders working before our
eyes. We could not absolutely see the machine ; its
evolutions were so rapid, they might have been im-
pelled by lightning. It was surrounded by scintilla-
300 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
ting sparks of weird greenish light, playing round it as
though some fiery genie was confined therein. There
was not much noise, only a whizzing, whirring sound,
and the ground shook beneath our feet with a quivering
motion like a living thing in mortal pain. Radiating
from the machine were sundry thin wires, each con-
ducting the illuminating power to the decks and
saloons, both above and below. Two wires ran per-
pendicularly one on each side of the apparatus, one
conducting the negative, the other the positive current.
Each one might be handled singly with impunity, but
a simultaneous touch of the two together would be
fraught with instant death. This easy mode of com-
mitting suicide lay within reach of our hands. We
shuddered, and beat a hasty retreat, lest a sudden
impulse might tempt us to try the experiment. How
many unintentional suicides have been hurried into
eternity by the uncontrollable impulse of a moment !
About seven o'clock a capital dinner, a la carte, was
served, and we had the double delight of enjoying a
dainty meal, and watching the sunset from the saloon
windov/s. There was no gorgeous colouring such as
sometimes clothes the western skies with the barbaric
splendour of crimson, amethyst, green, and gold ; but
the whole hemisphere where the sun went down was
filled with floating islands of golden light, sailing
hither and thither in the face of the pale-blue sky.
But soon came the twilight, trailing her dusky skirts
between land and sea, and shut the heavens from our
sight.
After dinner we went on deck, but there was
nothing to tempt us to stay there. It was a cool gray
evening ; there was no moon, and not a star was
THE " AMERICAN ATHENS.
301
visible ; we therefore went into the grand saloon,
which is <;orgeously upholstered in crimson velvet, and
decorated with much carving and gilding, while
mirrors and looking-glasses reflect and multiply you
by dozens on every side. A piano stood at the farther
end, and there was already a man in possession. lie
was short, he was fat, he was bald, and wore an
immense pair of green goggles, such as are rarely worn
except when crossing the ice. He looked as stupid and
stolid as an animated jelly-fish, and knew as little about
music as an oyster ; but he sang, out of tune and out of
time, the most lugubrious ditties. He enjoyed them if
nobody else did. When he got to the end of one, he
began another. He might have seen the expression of
disgust on everybody's face, but he was self-absorbed,
he never looked ; if any one attempted to talk within
earshot, he glared round reproachfully and sang louder
than before. It is strange, but painfully true : it is
precisely those people who can neither play nor sing
who attempt to do both for the torture of their fellow-
passengers on those river excursions, and. perhaps on
some other occasions.
We were driven to our state-room early, and the
first thing that met our sight was a huge pair of
ominous-looking life-preservers. We tried them on,
saw that they fitted and fastened correctly, then
leisurely proceeded to plait our hair in long pigtails
for the convenience of our escort, so that, in case
of accidents, he might float us easily. We had passed
the wrecked remains of the Seawanhaka an hour
before ; it had been destroyed by fire, and scores of
its passengers had met their death within fifty yards
of the shore. These river boats are splendid to look
302 THROUGH cities and prairie lands.
at, luxurious to travel in, but if a fire once seizes on
any part of the vessel, being made of wood, it burns
like a matchbox ; there is no hope for it. There was
nothing left of the unfortunate Seawanhaka but the
huge boiler and a few ribs of iron, lying like a
mutilated skeleton on the shore. It was not a pleasant
picture to possess our mind the last thing at night ;
but we went to bed, and, strange to say, slept soundly
enough until six o'clock in the morning, when we
were served with a comfortable breakfast, and left the
boat at Providence, wliere the train was waiting, and
in abouv an hour we reached Boston.
It was one of the loveliest of summer mornings.
A kind of spiritual sunshine lay upon the silent land
as we drove through the empty streets, for at that
early hour few people were astir. We felt as though
we were entering some solemn cathedral town of the
Old World ; everything is so different from any other
American city which we have lately been passing
through. There are no long, straight streets, no lines
of tall stone houses, whose sameness wearies the sight ;
no dull monotony here. The streets are labyrinthine ;
they radiate from all sides and cross at all angles ;
they run up and down, round corners, curving or
straight, wide or narrow. There is no irritating
uniformity anywhere.
From the first glance we feel that this city has
a character of its own, and that character is essentially
English. There is a certain undefinable something
in the general aspect of the place and of the people
which makes us feel near home. Familiar names greet
us at street corners, their nomenclature being similar
to our own. No tubs of household refuse stand on the
THE "AMERICAN ATHENS.
303
side-walks, or flow over into the gutter. The streets
are beautifully clean ; it is a pleasure to walk in them.
Beacon Street, which is one of the most fashionable
localities, reminds us forcibly of Park Lane ; in fact,
it is Park Lane, in miniature, seen through the
wrong end of a telescope. The houses are all in good
taste, though of different sizes and varied forms of
architecture. Some have old-fashioned bay windows,
others are flat fronted, some of white or gray stone,
some of cherry-red bricks. One has its balcony and
window-sills filled with bright-hued and sweet-smell-
ing flowers ; another is literally covered with Westeria,
all abloom with rich purple blossoms. It is the pretty
floral decorations and varied style of building which
gives it so quaint and picturesque an appearance. It
stands on gently rising ground. At the top is the
State House, a very handsome colonnaded building,
crowned with a huge bronze cupola shining like bur-
nished gold, dominating the landscape and visible for
miles round.
In front, railed in with light elegant railings, and
running the whole length of Beacon Street, is the
" Common," as the Bostonians modestly call it, though
it is in reality a very beautiful park ; but a park with-
out carriage drives, devoted entirely to pedestrian
exercise. There is a fine growth of forest trees, which
for centuries cannot have had an axe among them.
There are fountains, too, and flower-gardens, and com-
fortable seats arranged under the umbrageous shade of
the spreading walnut trees. On one mound of ele-
vated ground is a handsome memorial in honour of
their dead ancestors ; in another part of the common,
on a greater elevation, stands an equestrian statue of
n04 TTIROUGir CITIES AND PRAIRIE LAXPS.
General WaHhington. No city is complete without a
statue of the founder of the United States. The
common is a dclig'litful rural promenade and pleasure-
ground, and when the hand is playing presents a most
brilliant and imposing scene.
The absence of the tobacco-chewing process and
its disgusting results is another striking feature in
Boston. You may walk through the public streets
or ride in the cars the whole day long without once
being subject to the nuisance to which we ought to
have become accustomed. In the streets, on the cars,
or among the people, you recognize a familiar Old-
World look, and signs of refinement and cultivation
everywhere. Even a Boston crowd is a well-behaved,
orderly gathering. We were there on the 4th of July.
In the morning, escorted by a friend whose name will
remain ever green in our memory, we went to an
entertainment at the grand opera-house, which we
imagined would partake of a national character. We
expected to hear martial music and the national airs
sang with the enthusiasm of a people who " exulted to
be free ; " but we didn't. The concert was confined to
a few everyday melodies — " The Old Folks at Home "
and "Annie Laurie" — all well enough in their way,
but hardly suited to such an occasion as the " glorious
fourth." Then, for the first time in our lives, we
heard the " Act of Independence " read, with great
emphasis and distinctness. We felt we ought to have
blushed — but didn't.
In the evening there was a grand display of
fireworks, an open air orchestral concert, and other
amusements. The people swarmed upon the common
by hundreds and thousands of all classes, all degrees.
THE " AMERICAN ATHENS."
305
to
to
of
her
■non
ees.
There were no " reserved seats," and no possibility of
enjoying any part of the festivity in " luxurious ease."
Anybody who wished to see or enjoy anything must
go on foot. It is this temporary incorporation of the
refined with the rougher elements of humanity which
makes an American crowd different from any other.
There is no pushing, no horse-play, no practical joking ;
nobody hustles or tramples on you. It is essentially
a polite crowd. Of course we never got into one
from choice, but sometimes from necessity found our-
selves in the midst of it, and everywhere, in other
cities besides Boston, found the same orderly behaviour.
On the evening of the " glorious fourth " we went
out, with a pleasant titillation of curiosity, mingled
with a nervous notion that brickbats might be flying,
or squibs and crackers be fizzing about too freely, or,
perhaps, some little patriotic pleasantry awkwardly
demonstrated.
An American visiting in England had said on a
previous " fourth," " Ah ! in my country every man
will be gloriously drunk to-night; not a single one
will go sober to bed." This perhaps coloured our ideas
of the " glorious fourth ; " whereas it might have been
the fourth of any other month. The concerts which
took place on different parts of the common were by
no means of a patriotic or exhilarating nature. The
orchestras were excellent, the music well played, but
ill chosen ; that is, ill chosen for such an occasion. It
was chiefly classical. Occasionally it pranced off into
a waltz, and encouraged the idea of frivolity for a
moment, but was speedily recalled under cover of the
big drum, and a more select fugue or fantasia took its
place. Classical music is not fitting for an open-air
30G THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
promenacle, when nobofly's attention can be wholly
absorbed by it, as shoiiKl be the case when p^ood music
is being played. Fancy a running fire of chit-chat, or
cannonade of laughter being carried on, while the
solemn strains of iriindol, the subtle harmonies of
Beethoven, or sweet mc^lodies of Joseph Ilaydn are
filling the air ! Merry catching tunes or patriotic airs
are best suited to these occasions, but never the ghost
of one was abroad that night. John Brown's sovd
might have marched to the end of his journey, and lain
down to undisturbed rest ; there was no one to " rally
round the flag," shouting the battle-cry of freedom.
The star-spangled banner was folded away out of sight,
but the stars and stripes fluttered faintly from a few
windows, and that was all.
The fireworks crackled and fizzed, while the multi-
tude looked solemnly on. Roman candles burnt blue,
showers of golden light were falling, Catherine wheels
were whirling in circles of brilliant colours, fantastic
designs, and fine set pieces blazed on all sides. AVe
made our bow to an illuminated President, and
watched the American eagle light himself up with a
gjlden body, bright-green wings, and ruby claws, big
enough to clutch the world by the throat. He was a
gorgeous bird, and dazzled our sight for a few moments,
and then faded from it. "VVe went home to bed with a
virtuous feeling that we had assisted at the celebration
of the " glorious fourth."
The arrangements for street traffic in Boston are
as nearly perfect as they can be. Cars are running
everywhere every minute of the day. Most comfort-
able cars they are — a great improvement upon any
similar conveyances we had seen in any other part of
THE "AMERICAN ATHENS.'
307
are
the States. Some are closed, some are open ; the seats
are placed so that every one sits face forward. They
are splendidly horsed, and you can fly in the face of
the wind from one end of the city to another for five
cents (2)^(1.). It is well li<>'hted, and the numerous
cars, with their coloured buUs'-eyes behind and before,
illuminate the streets, like the flashing of monster
fireflies.
Here, as elsewhere, are handsome churches, mu-
seums, picture-galleries, etc. No one need ever pass
a dull day in this intellectual and cultivated city.
Like Washington and Philadelphia, Boston is exclusive
in the matter of society. Its social laws are many, and
strictly kept. Reserved and dignified in its every-
day life, it is not overgiven to demonstrative rejoicing,
even among its best friends. We have all our little
weaknesses, and perhaps Boston may be a little vain of
its intellect and refinement. " We don't do * that ' in
Boston," is a common phrase, and considered strong
enough to condemn " that " when it is done else-
where.
The rural surroundings of Boston are -very beauti-
ful ; but the interest of most tourists centres in the
city itself, which, besides its many attractions, is the
home of two men who have made the genius of
America known and honoured in every quarter of the
civilized world — I mean of the Poet Longfellow, and
the genial philosophical poet and essayist, Oliver
Wendell Holmes.
brt-
any
■t of
308
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FAREWELL VISITS.
A Visit to Longfellow — The Poet's Home— Dr. Oliver Wendell
Holmes — Newport — A Fashionable Watering-place — The Old
Town- — The " Cottages " — Homeward.
It is not admissible, as a rule, to turn the result of a
private visit into public copy. To be received into
a family circle on terms of social equality, and there
gather up scraps of conversation, and turn the sayings
and doings of the unsuspecting household into public
property, is a most ungracious return for kindly
hospitality ; therefore I have hitherto avoided all
mention of my private friends in these pages. But
every rule has an exception, and as the general world
is supposed to be interested in, and are kept fully
informed of, the most trivial circumstances surrounding
the royal rulers of nations, I take it for granted that a
much livelier interest must cling round the monarcbs
of mind, whose names are " familiar to our ears as
household words "^ — w^iose gentle genius, playful
humour, or tender philosophy has coloured the lives
and gladdened the hearts of thousands, and helped to
make the ignorant wise and the wise happy. Their
thoughts come to us over land and over sea ; invisibly
FAREWELL VISITS.
309
and subtly, as the sweet fresh air we breathe, they
permeate our lives, and become a part of us, circulating,
with a pure ennobling influence, from the cottage to
the palace. These are the only true magicians, god-
inspired workers of miracles ; shrined in the sanctity
of their own peaceful homes, they are working to give
light to the blind old world, that it may be better for
their lives when the Great Master calls them home.
We should have been sorely disappointed if we
had been compelled to leave Boston without paying
our affectionate homage to Longfellow, whose name
is associated with our earliest awakening thoughts.
He had been so often with us in spirit for this many
a long year, that we longed to see him in the flesh ;
it was therefore with great pleasure we received an
invitation to pay him a visit at his marine residence,
Nahant, where he generally spends the summer
months. Nahant lies on the shores of the Atlantic,
just outside Boston Harbour. We had a glorious sail,
for it was one of summer's loveliest days — earth, air,
sea, and sky were all invisibly blended in one perfect
harmony. Our brief, bright journey was soon over,
and on turning a sudden point of the bay we found
ourselves scudding along on the waves of the Atlantic.
Nahant was before us. Longfellow's house was
pointed out to us from the vessel ; it seemed to be
lying close on the shore, but in reality it stands on
elevated rising ground, open to the sea, but about a
quarter of a mile from it. A carriage waited on the
landing-stage to convey us to the house — an attention
for which we were grateful, as a walk uphill, even for
so short a distance, in the face of a blazing sun, was
not desirable. After a short breezy drive, the carriage
310
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
stopped at a delightfully picturesque villa, or cottage
ornee, though it was more like a Swiss chalet than
either. A child was playing with its toys and dolls
in the verandah which ran round the four sides of the
house, and two gentlemen were seated in rocking-
chairs facing the wide winding road. As we drove
up, one of the gentlemen rose and came down the
steps and across the small front garden to meet us.
There was no mistaking the man — it was our host
himself; we had seen him often gazing at us with
stony photographic eyes from the shop-windows
thousands of miles away, but no more like the poet's
actual self tlian a stagnant pool is like the living sea.
We observed him well as he came down the steps,
with a gracious dignity born of a benignant spirit.
He is tall, slight, and erect as a soldier on duty, with
refined features, and a pale complexion, with a slight
tinge of colour on his cheeks, almost as delicate as the
blush of a woman, kind blue eyes, and wavy hair, which
is more white than gray ; he wears a beard, has long
shapely white hands that any lady might be proud
of; his voice is peculiarly soft, and his manners full of
that gentle courtliness which is fast dying out. He
is in his seventy-fourth year, but looks considerably
younger. There is none of the physical feebleness or
querulous spirit of age about him; he seems now to
be in the full autumn-tide of a hale, healthy life. Time
is dealing very gently with him, leading him imper-
ceptibly (as it is leading us all) down the valley
towards " the silent land " which he has told us of.
After shaking hands and exchanging the usual
greetings, he presented us to his two brothers-in-law,
who reside with him. The household was not entirely
FAREWELL VISITS.
311
masculine, however ; the poet's two dan|^hters were
out in their yacht crijoying a sail : the one is married,
and, with her httle cliild, is only on a visit ; the other,
a very cliarming y^^ng hidy, lives at home with her
fathe-r. We went through the house and sat in tlie
back verandali. A tempting-looking hammock swung
there, and wild roses climbed up the lattice-work and
nodded their odorous heads at us, and showered their
pink petals at our feet. The poet gathered us a bunch
of the fairest blossoms; they lie faded and scentless
in my alhum to-day, but the memory of that July
afternoon at Nahant is fresh and green still.
We sat there cliatting in a pleasant way of the Old
World and the New; the gray Atlantic, scarcely
wrinkled in the light breeze, lay before us. Wo
watched the various vessels — light brigs, sloops, and
schooners, all full-rigged to catch the breeze, and
stately steamers on tlicu'r march across the world of
waters, and pretty yachts, some curtsying to their
own shadows, otliers with their white sails sprciid, like
gigantic swans skimming over the fiice of the ocean.
Presently the one particular yacht we awaited came
prancing over the tiny waves, like a steed tliat knows
he is nearing home. The two ladies sprang ashore,
and speedily made a pleasant addition to our party in
the verandah. The time passed only too rpiickly. The
pretty, fair-haired little grandchild sat in the lap of its
blooming young mother, playing and [)rattling its baby
prattle. It was an idyllic picture, with its pleasant
home surroundings — a living illustration of three
stages of life : the dawn, the meridian, and the evening
before the sun sets and the night closes in.
The conversation was never allowed to flag ; some-
312
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
how, the merest everyday chit-chat seemed to gather
weight and pungency hy the mode of utterance : a
pointed word, a look, the turn of a sentence, gave to
every commonplace phrase an attraction and a meaning
it would not in itself possess. Mr. Longfellow is no
egotist ; he evidently does not care to talk of himself or
his work. He is full of that modesty which generally
characterizes great genius, but is lamentably wanting
in the many poetical aspirants who are buzzing about
the world, trying their wings to see how far they can
soar into those ideal realms where true genius sits
calmly crowned. Whatever he says it is pleasant to
listen to.
During the few brief hours of a first acquaintance,
it is rarely we get into a very deep or animated
discussion on any subject ; we must first get the key
to each other's minds, and become en rapport with each
other's feeling, before the spirit of either can give forth
its fullest, freest tones. As a rule, it is enough to skim
the surface of the current topics of the day.
We sat down sociably to a recherche little dinner, the
first course of which was one of the national dishes,
to which we were by this time well accustomed — clam
chowder. The meal, gastronomically considered, was
on strictly international principles ; we sipped the
vintage of Champagne, while we enjoyed the pork and
beans of Boston, and washed down corn-cobs and
hominy with mineral waters of Germany.
We were obliged to leave Nahant early, as the
Boston boat was at the pier, and time and tide wait
for no woman, even in this chivalrous land. Cordially
and regretfully we said " Good-bye." The dear old
man, with his delightful family group, stood in the
FAREWELL VISITS.
313
verandah, shading his eyes from the setting sun,
watching till we were out of sight. He is photo-
graphed on my mind ; I shall see him often in days to
come, as I looked my last upon him then.
The next day, according to appointment, we paid
a visit to another celebrity. Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes,
who has made himself a name in the Old World as
well as in the New. He, too, was residing at his
country cottage at " Beverly Farms," another of those
delightful rural retreats in the vicinity of Boston,
being little more than an hour's railway journey
from it.
We reached Beverly Farms about noon — the fiercest,
hottest part of the dry. We had no idea how far the
Doctor's residence might be from the station, but
trusted to find some conveyance to take us there, feel-
ing that it would be an effort even to walk a hundred
yards in the heat of the blazing sun. The train
steamed away from the platform, and we looked round
in search of some one of whom we might inquire our
road, and then looked blankly at one another. We
had no idea which way to turn, and there was not a
creature in sight to tell us. We walked through the
empty station ; the ticket oftice was closed, and not
a railway official was in sight. Only a big black dog
was lying curled up under one of the benches ; every
other living thing had mysteriously vanished. Some
labourers were working in a field not far from the
station, and we noticed a pretty white cottage close
to the roadway on the opposite side — scarcely a stone's
throw from us. A gentleman in a linen suit, a straw
hat, and carrying a green umbrella, came out of the
gate and walked quickly towards the station ; we
314
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
\
advanced to meet him, and inquired if he could tell us
where Dr. Holmes lived ?
" I am Dr. Holmes," he answered, " and you, I
presume, are the ladies I was hurrying to meet ? " We
acknowledged that we believed we were. He turned
back with us, and in another moment we all three
entered the garden which we had seen him leave a
moment before. It was a pleasant first introduction,
and here we scored another delightful day. We found
Dr. Holmes a most genial and agreeable companion —
exactly, as from reading his books, we had expected he
would be. He is neither tall nor short, but of medium
height ; a thin, wiry man, with iron-gray hair, and eyes
twinkling with humour and philosophy. Age has not
dimmed their lustre, nor taken the spring from his
elastic spirit ; he is as brisk in his movements as many
a man at five-and-twenty. JMrs. Holmes, a gentle-
mannered lady, just the wife necessary for such a
man — one who would make his home a harbour of rest
and peace — came out to meet and welcome us. It is
always pleasant to see a genius and philosopher well
matched in his life's companionship ; unfortunately,
we have so often to look on the reverse picture. The
right woman is an inspiration to the one, a study for
the other; but the wrong acts like an irritant and
blister, his whole life through. We were presently
joined by his daughter — a brilliant young widow, a
feminine edition of himself. Altogether we made a
very pleasant party, and soon floated off into a brisk
conversation. I wish I could reproduce his spirited,
quaintly-turned phrases and quick repartee, to which
the expression of his face gave additional point and
high flavour. I think the most dryasdust doctrine
FAREWELL VISITS.
315
would quicken into life if passed through the alembic
of his sparkling philosophy.
It is not often that poetry and philosophy go hand
in hand together as in this case it does. Dr. Holmes
seems surprised to find himself so much more famous
in this country for his prose works and philosophical
studies than for his poetical productions. Scientific
research and semi-philosophical lectures and literature
are the occupations of his daily life, but poetry is the
darling of his heart, the beloved companion of his
holiday hours, the airy architect who builds for his
spirit a home we know not of. We retired to luncheon
in a pretty parlour looking out into the flower-garden;
where the bees were droning and the tall lilies and
roses nodding sleepily in the sunshine. He seemed
very much interested in our intonation, and frequently
called attention to our mode of pronouncing certain
words. He afterwards read to us some scraps and
snatches of his new poems, which was a great treat to
us, for he has a melodious voice, and reads with great
emphasis and spirit ; indeed, we were so- deeply en-
grossed by his brilliant conversations that we almost
lost our train. With much regret we bade him and
his family a cordial adieu.
There was one more visit to pay, and that the last.
Time, the great " whipper-in," was behind us, bidding
us gather our energies together, for we must soon — too
soon — bid adieu to the New World, and turn our faces
homeward towards the old land. The next day we
started to pay a visit to Newport, Rhode Island, whose
fame as the most beautiful, select, and fashionable water-
ing-place in America had long been familiar to us. It
is only about four hours' rail from Boston. Our host
316
THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
and hostess met us at the station, and we were too much
occupied in conversing with them to take much notice
of the town as we drove through it ; we made closer
acquaintance with it afterwards. A half-hour's drive
took us through the lower part of the town, the busi-
ness quarters, and past the " old mill " which stands in
a wide, open square. Some say it is a relic left by the
Norsemen who once overran the land, and others assert
that it was built by the earliest colonists centuries ago ;
but nobody knows exactly when it was built, nor what
was its use. It is a massive stone tower, with no
visible means of entrance ; it must have been entered
by scaling-ladders from without. It is now a ruin, by
no means a picturesque one, but it is the only ancient
relic on the island, and the people are proud of it ;
they seem to have a vested interest in its antiquity,
and regard it as a sort of illustration of their history
and of themselves. Past this ancient monument,
through a pleasant winding road, with charming villa
residences, and shady trees on either side, and we turn
through a pair of handsome iron gates into some beau-
tifully laid out grounds ; a miniature park, indeed, with
clumps of fine old trees of the most rare and varied
descriptions, and evergreens and shrubs of the choicest
kind, all so arranged that the foliage of one should con-
trast artistically with that of the other. We roll through
a long, curving drive, and in another moment stop
before an old-fashioned red-brick mansion, with gabled
front and pointed roof, which might have been lifted
bodily up, and transplanted thither from some ancient
English manor. The house in its general style and
all its arrangements was purely English, and both host
and hostess were simply perfect, and combined the re-
FAREWELL VISITS.
317
fined courtesy of our country with the lavisli liberality
and genial hospitality of their own. It is the same in
quality and degree in most American houses ; there is
no stiffness or formality, but that peculiar kind of good
breeding and bonhomniie which makes the transient
guest feel most perfectly at home. There is nothing
fast, frivolous, or shoddy about Newport ; only the
creme de la crhne of American society congregates
there ; the fun-loving, vulgar herd, with their holiday
squibs and crackers, hold no orgies on its sacred shores.
The floating population is clothed (metaphorically
speaking) in broadcloth and fine linen ; it takes up its
abode for a night or so at the one solitary and rather
gloomy-looking hotel, and passes away.
Newport proper, that is the lower, older portion
of the town, is a dull, ragged, out-at-elbows sort of
place ; it looks tired and worn out, as though it had
had its day, and wanted rest. Indeed, it has been
busy and bright enough in its time. A century ago
it was a bustling seaport ; scores of ships were riding
at anchor in the bay ; the wharves were crowded with
merchandise, and sailors from all parts of the world
wandered to and fro, creating a confusion of tongues,
and perhaps a confusion of morals at the same time.
All is lonely and deserted now ; the wharves are dila-
pidated, rotting away ; a few broken boats are hauled
up on shore, and children play at hide-and-seek amid
the ruins of the old dead days.
The fashionable Newportians reside in the upper
portion of the town, which grows along the face of
the cliff, and is held sacred to themselves. Lodging-
houses or " genteel apartments " are things unknown.
Only the aristocracy of the surrounding States gather
318 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
here ; people of culture, of refinement, and of wealth.
There are no flashily dressed people or Brummagem
buildings in Newport, but a solid, substantial dignity
greets you everywhere. The road from the lower
town winds upwards through a labyrinth of lovely
cottages, covered with vines and trailing roses, past
an ancient Jewish burial-ground, which has received
no silent inmates for many a long year. It is kept
in perfect order, and looks like a blooming flower-
garden, funds for this purpose having been left by a
deceased Rabbi. The old synagogue, gray and hoary,
stands in the midst, deserted, haunted only by the
echoes of departed days.
By this pretty winding way you reach the high-
way, if such a commonplace term can be applied to
such a royal road. It is a fashionable thoroughfare
and general drive, about two miles and a half long,
bordered on either side along the whole route by
tasteful villas. Some, indeed, are quite palatial resi-
dences ; every one is a specimen of architectural
beauty ; each bears a sort of family resemblance to the
other, but no two are exactly alike. Never was such
a wealth of architectural attractions gathered on one
spot. Along the whole line one beautiful dwelling
rises after another, till your mind becomes a jumble of
points and arches, cupolas and towers ; and you don't
know which to admire most. One part of the houses
faces seaward, the other fronts the road, which during
the season is crowded with handsome, well-appointed
equipages, which would do credit to Longchamps or
Rotten Row. The ladies sit in their verandahs
reading, chatting, or working, as the case may be, and
watch their friends " go riding by." The air, laden
FAREWELL VISITS.
319
high-
with the salt sea-breeze, is soft and salubrious ; there
is generally a sea-wind blowing inland, which tempers
the heat of the sun, and renders Newport delightful
when the cities are unendurable.
This is our dast resting-place in America. Our
holiday is over ; the time has come when we must turn
our faces homeward. No more lingering by the way,
no more rolling over prairie lands, or lounging by
inland seas. Regretfully, yet not wholly regretful, we
say good-bye to Newport, spend half an hour in
Boston, then on through Canada, a twenty-four hours'
journey to Quebec. We pass through long flat stretches
of country, where Nature seems to have exerted herself
to show how dull, dreary, and monotonous she could
have made the world if she had only tried. Everything
is brown, dusty, and parched with the hot thirsty sun,
which seems to have drawn every drop of moisture from
the poor old earth. Occasionally we catch a glimpse of
a lazy, sluggish stream, cn^eping along as though it was
trying to hide itself from the fierce blaze above. We
were glad, when the night closed in, to get into our
comfortable berth, and shut our eyes on the dreary
landscape. At seven next morning we reached Point
Levis, and were ferried across to Quebec, where our
. vessel lay at anchor.
The cathedral bells are ringing, and the sound of
their musical chime comes to us pleasantly across the
water ; we look once more upon the shining roofs and
gilded spires pricking the pale morning sky. We
should have liked one more ramble through the quaint
old streets, but the Sardinian lies at the quay, ready
to start, the smoke coiling up from her great red
funnel, her huge prow rising like the wall of a house
11
320 THROUGH CITIES AND PRAIRIE LANDS.
from the sluggish water that splashes slowly against
her sides. There is bustle on the decks, which are all
swept and garnished in readiness for the advent of the
coming passengers. Our good captain's genial voice
hails us on the gangway ; the well-remembered faces
of the ship's officers smile a welcome to us as we pass
along the deck ; last, not least, our kindly stewardess
meets and marshals us to our cosy little state-room.
In the saloon — which is gay with ferns and flowers and
polished plate and shining glass — the ship's canary,
the pet alike of officers and passengers, is trilling his
loudest and sweetest. All is smiling, bright, and
cheery, as we take up our quarters in the little floating
world, which was so pleasant a nine-days' home to us
a year ago, and is now to be so once more.
An hour afterwards, the shining spires of Quebec
have faded from our sight, we are steaming down the
mighty St. Lawrence, and our faces are set for England
and for Home!
THE END.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
IF
against
h are all
it of the
al voice
ed faces
we pass
iwardess
te-room.
vers and
canary,
ling his
ht, and
floating
le to us
Quebec
•wn the
Dngland