At Cheyenne, we have another stoppage for refreshment. This is one of
the cities with which our guidebook writer falls into ecstasies. It is
"The Magic City of the Plains"--a place of which it "requires neither
a prophet nor the son of a prophet to enumerate its resources or
predict its future!" Yet Cheyenne is already a place of importance,
and likely to become still more so,--being situated at the junction
with the line to Denver, which runs along the rich and lovely valley
of the Colorado. Its population of 8000 seems very large for a place
that so short a time ago was merely the haunt of Red Indians. Already
it has manufactures, warehouses, wharves, and stores of considerable
magnitude; with all the usual appurtenances of a place of traffic and
business.
Before leaving Cheyenne, I invested in some hung buffalo steak for
consumption at intervals between meals. It is rather tough and
salt,--something like Hamburg beef; but seasoned with hunger, and with
the appetite sharpened by the cold and frost of these high regions,
the hung buffalo proved useful and nutritious.
For several hundred miles, our track lay across the
prairie--monotonous, and comparatively uninteresting now, in its
covering of white--but in early summer clad in lively green and
carpeted with flowers. I read that this fine cultivable well-watered
country extends seven hundred miles north and south, along the eastern
base of the Rocky Mountains, with an average width of two hundred
miles. It is said to be amongst the finest grazing land in the world,
with pasturage for millions of cattle and sheep.
Shortly after passing Antelope Station, the track skirts the "Prairie
Dog City," which I knew at once by its singular appearance. It
consists of hundreds of little mounds of soil, raised about a foot and
a half from the ground. There were, however, no dogs about at the
time. The biting cold had doubtless sent them within doors. Indeed, I
saw no wild animals on my journey across the continent, excepting only
some black antelopes with white faces, that I saw on the plains near
this Prairie Dog City.
For a distance of more than five hundred miles--from leaving Cheyenne
until our arrival in Omaha--the railway held along the left bank of
the Lodge Pole Creek, then along the South Fork or Platte river, and
finally along the main Platte river down to near its junction with the
Missouri. When I went to sleep on the night of the 11th of
February--my fourth night in the railway train--we were travelling
through the level prairie; and when I woke up on the following
morning, I found we were on the prairie still.
At seven in the morning, we halted at the station of Grand Island--so
called from the largest island in the Platte river, near at hand. Here
I had breakfast, and a good wash in ice-cold water. Although the snow
is heavier than ever, the climate seems already milder. Yet it is very
different indeed from the sweltering heat of Honolulu only some twelve
days ago. At about 10 A.M., we bid adieu to the uninhabited
prairie--though doubtless before many years are over, it will be
covered with farms and homesteads--and approached the fringe of the
settled country; patches of cultivated land and the log huts of the
settlers beginning to show themselves here and there alongside the
track.
Some eighty miles from Omaha, we cross the north fork of the Platte
river over one of the usual long timber bridges on piles,--and
continue to skirt the north bank of the Great Platte,--certainly a
very remarkable river, being in some places three-quarters of a mile
broad, with an average depth of only six inches! At length, on the
afternoon of the fifth day, the engine gives a low whistle, and we
find ourselves gliding into the station at Omaha.
CHAPTER XXVI.
OMAHA TO CHICAGO.
OMAHA TERMINUS--CROSS THE MISSOURI--COUNCIL BLUFFS--THE FOREST--CROSS
THE MISSISSIPPI--THE CULTIVATED PRAIRIE--THE FARMSTEADS AND
VILLAGES--APPROACH TO CHICAGO--THE CITY OF CHICAGO--ENTERPRISE OF ITS
MEN--THE WATER TUNNELS UNDER LAKE MICHIGAN--TUNNELS UNDER THE RIVER
CHICAGO--UNION OF LAKE MICHIGAN WITH THE MISSISSIPPI--DESCRIPTION OF
THE STREETS AND BUILDINGS OF CHICAGO--PIGS AND CORN--THE
AVENUE--SLEIGHING--THEATRES AND CHURCHES.
I have not much to tell about Omaha, for I did not make any long stay
in the place, being anxious to get on and finish my journey. It was
now my fifth day in the train, having come a distance of 1912 miles
from San Francisco; and I had still another twenty-four hours' travel
before me to Chicago. There was nothing to detain me in Omaha. It is
like all places suddenly made by railway, full of bustle and business,
but by no means picturesque. How can it be? The city is only seventeen
years old. Its principal buildings are manufactories, breweries,
warehouses, and hotels.
Omaha has been made by the fact of its having been fixed upon as the
terminus of the Union Pacific Railroad, and by its convenient position
on the great Missouri river. It occupies a sloping upland on the
right bank, about fifty feet above the level of the stream; and behind
it stretches the great Prairie country we have just traversed. On the
opposite bank of the Missouri stands Council Bluffs, from which
various railroad lines diverge north, south, and east, to all parts of
the Union. It is probable, therefore, that before many years have
passed, big though Omaha may now be--and it already contains 20,000
inhabitants--the advantages of its position will tend greatly to swell
its population, and perhaps to render it in course of time one of the
biggest cities of the West.
[Illustration: (Map of Atlantic and Pacific Railways) _Reduced from a
Map in Mr. Rae's_]
Having arranged to proceed onwards to Chicago by the North-Western
line, I gave up my baggage in exchange for the usual check, and took
my place in the train. We rolled down a steepish incline, on to the
"mighty Missouri," which we crossed upon a bridge of boats. I should
not have known that I was upon a deep and rapid river, but for the
huge flat-bottomed boats that I saw lying frozen in along the banks.
It was easy to mistake the enormous breadth of ice for a wide field
covered with snow. As we proceeded across we met numbers of sledges,
coaches, and omnibuses driving over the ice along a track made in the
deep snow not far from our bridge.
[Illustration: _'Westward by Rail.' Longmans._ 1871.]
After passing through Council Bluffs, we soon lost sight of the town
and its suburbs, and were again in the country. But how different the
prospect from the car window, compared with the bare and unsettled
prairies which we had traversed for so many hundred miles west of
Omaha! Now, thick woods extend on both sides of the track, with an
occasional cleared space for a township, where we stop to take up and
set down passengers. But I shall not proceed further with my
description of winter scenery as viewed from a passing railway train.
Indeed, I fear that my descriptions heretofore, though rapid, must be
felt somewhat monotonous, for which I crave the reader's forgiveness.
I spent my fifth night in the train pretty comfortably, having
contrived to makeup a tolerable berth. Shortly after I awoke, we
crossed the Mississippi on a splendid bridge at Fulton. What a noble
river it is! Here, where it must be fifteen hundred miles from its
mouth, it seemed to me not less than a mile across. Like the Missouri,
however, it is now completely frozen over and covered with thick snow.
We are again passing through a prairie country, the fertile land of
upper Illinois, all well settled and cultivated. We pass a succession
of fine farms and farmsteads. The fields are divided by rail fences;
and in some places stalks of maize peep up through the snow. The
pretty wooden houses are occasionally half hidden by the snow-laden
trees amidst which they stand. These Illinois clusters of
country-houses remind one very much of England, they look so snug and
homelike; and they occupy a gently undulating country,--lovely, no
doubt, in summer time. But the small towns we passed could never be
mistaken for English. They are laid out quite regularly, each house
with its little garden surrounding it; the broad streets being planted
with avenues of trees.
The snow is lying very heavy on the ground; and there are drifts we
pass through full twenty feet deep on either side the road. But the
day is fine, the sky is clear and blue, the sun shines brightly, and
the whole scene looks much more cheerful than the Rocky Mountain
region in the west.
Very shortly, evidences appear of our approach to a considerable
place. In fact, we are nearing Chicago. But long before we reach it,
we pass a succession of pretty villas and country-houses, quite in the
English suburban style, with gardens, shrubberies, and hothouses.
These are the residences of the Chicago merchants. The houses become
more numerous, and before long we are crossing streets and
thoroughfares, the engine snorting slowly along, and the great bell
ringing to warn all foot-passengers off the track.
What an immense smoky place we have entered: so different from the
pure snow-white prairie country we have passed. It looks just like
another Manchester. But I suspect we have as yet traversed only the
manufacturing part of the city, as the only buildings heretofore
visible are small dwelling-houses and manufactories. At length we pull
up in the station, and find ourselves safely landed in Chicago.
Oh, the luxury of a good wash after a continuous journey of two
thousand four hundred miles by rail! What a blessing cold water is,
did we but know it. The luxury, also, of taking off one's clothes to
sleep in a bed, after five nights' rolling about in railway
cars,--that also is a thing to be enjoyed once in a lifetime! But, for
the sake of the pleasure, I confess I have no particular desire to
repeat the process.
And now for the wonders of Chicago. It is really a place worth going a
long way to see. It exhibits the enterprise of the American people in
its most striking light. Such immense blocks of buildings forming fine
broad streets, such magnificent wharves and warehouses, such splendid
shops, such handsome churches, and such elegant public buildings! One
can scarcely believe that all this has been the work of little more
than thirty years.
It is true, the situation of Chicago at the head of Lake Michigan,
with a great fertile country behind it, has done much for the place;
but without the _men_, Chicago would have been nothing. It is human
industry and energy that have made it what it is. Nothing seems too
bold or difficult for the enterprise of Chicago men. One of their most
daring but successful feats was in altering the foundation level of
the city. It was found that the business quarter was laid too
low--that it was damp, and could not be properly drained. It was
determined to raise the whole quarter bodily from six to eight feet
higher! And the extraordinary feat was accomplished with the help of
screw-jacks, safely and satisfactorily.
With the growth of population--and its increase was most rapid (from
4000 persons in 1837 to about 350,000 at the present time)--the
difficulty of obtaining pure water steadily increased. There was pure
water enough in the lake outside, but along shore it was so polluted
by the sewage that it could not be used with safety. Two methods were
adopted to remedy this evil. One was, to make Artesian wells 700 feet
deep, which yield about a million gallons of pure water per day; but
another, and much bolder scheme, was undertaken, that of carrying a
tunnel under the bed of the lake, two miles out, into perfectly pure
water; and this work was successfully accomplished and completed on
the 25th of March, 1867, when the water was let into the tunnel to
flow through the pipes and quadrants of the city. Thus 57 million
gallons of water per day could be supplied to the inhabitants.
Another important and daring work was that involved in carrying the
traffic of the streets from one side of the Chicago river (which flows
through the city) to the other, without the interference of bridges.
This was accomplished by means of tunnels constructed beneath the bed
of the river. The first tunnel was carried across from Washington
Street to the other side some years since; it was arched with brick,
floored with timber, and lighted with gas. The second, lower down the
same river, was still in progress at the period of my visit to the
city in March last, and is not yet completed. By means of these
tunnels the traffic of the streets will be sufficiently accommodated,
without any interruption by the traffic of the river,--large ships
proceeding directly up to the wharves above to load and unload their
cargoes.
But the boldest project of all remains to be mentioned. It is neither
more nor less than the cutting down of the limestone ridge which
intervenes between the head-waters of the River Chicago and those of
the River Illinois, which flows into the Mississippi. The water supply
being still found insufficient, the carrying out of a second tunnel
into deep water under the bed of the lake was projected. It then
occurred to the Chicago engineers that a more simple method would be,
instead of going out into the lake for the pure water, to make the
pure water come to them. The sewage-laden stream of the Chicago river
now flowed north into the lake; would it not be practicable, by
cutting down the level inland, to make it flow south, and thus bring
the pure water of the lake in an abundant stream past their very
doors?
This scheme has actually been carried out! The work was in progress
while I was there, and I observe that it has since been completed. The
limestone plateau to the south of Chicago has been cut down at a cost
of about three millions of dollars; and an abundant supply of pure
water has thus been secured to the town for ever. But the cutting of
this artificial river for the purpose of water supply has opened up
another and a much larger question. It is, whether by sufficiently
deepening the bed, a channel may not be formed for large ocean-going
ships, so that Chicago may be placed in direct water communication
with the Gulf of Mexico, as it now is with the Gulf of St. Lawrence.
Should this project, which was freely spoken of when I was at Chicago,
be carried out, it may lead to very important consequences. While it
may have the effect of greatly promoting the prosperity of Chicago, it
may also have an altogether different result. "The letting out of
waters" is not always a safe thing; and the turning of the stream, or
any considerable part of the stream which now passes over the falls of
Niagara, into the bed of the Mississippi--whose swollen waters are
sometimes found sufficiently unmanageable as it is--might have a very
extraordinary and even startling effect upon the low-lying regions at
the mouth of that great river. But this is a point that must be left
for geologists and engineers to speculate about and to settle.
Shortly after my arrival in Chicago, I went out for a wander in the
streets. I was accompanied by the Hotel "tout" who soon gave me his
history. He had been a captain in the English army, had run through
all his money, and come here to make more. He had many reminiscences
to relate of his huntings in Leicestershire, of his life in the army,
of his foolish gamblings, of his ups and downs in America, and his
present prospects. Nothing daunted by his mishaps, he was still full
of hope. He was an agent for railways, agent for a billiard-table
manufacturer and for several patents, and believed he should soon be a
rich man again. But no one, he said, had any chance in Chicago, unless
he was prepared to work, and to work hard. "A man," he observed, "must
have his eyes peeled to make money; as for the lazy man, he hasn't the
ghost of a chance here."
My guide took me along the principal streets, which were full of
traffic and bustle, the men evidently intent upon business, pushing
on, looking neither to the right hand nor the left. The streets are
mostly stone-paved, and, in spite of the heavy snow which has fallen,
they are clean and well kept. We passed the City Hall, the Chamber of
Commerce, and the Post Office--all fine buildings. In the principal
streets, the houses are five stories high, with handsome marble
fronts. The office of the 'Chicago Tribune,' situated at the corner of
one of the chief thoroughfares, is a splendid pile with a spacious
corner entrance. The Potter Palmer block, chiefly occupied as a
gigantic draper's shop--here called a Dry Goods' Store--is an immense
pile of buildings, with massive marble front handsomely carved. But
the building which promises shortly to overtop all others in Chicago,
is the Pacific Hotel, now in course of erection,--an enormous
structure, covering an acre and a half of ground, with a frontage of
325 feet, and a height of 104 feet. It is expected to be the largest
and finest building in the city, until something else is projected to
surpass and excel it.
In my progress through the streets I came upon two huge steam cranes
at work, hoisting up stuff from a great depth below. I was told that
this was the second tunnel in course of construction underneath the
bed of the river to enable the traffic to pass across without the
necessity for bridges. The stream over the tunnel was busy with
shipping. In one street I passed a huge pile of dead pigs in front of
a sausage shop. They go in pigs and come out sausages. Pork is one of
the great staples of the place; the number of pigs slaughtered in
Chicago being something enormous. The pig-butcheries and pork stores
are among the largest buildings in the city. My guide assures me that
at least a pig a second is killed and dressed in Chicago all the year
through. Another street was occupied by large stores of grain, fruit,
and produce of all kinds. The pathways were filled with farmers and
grain brokers, settling bargains and doing business. And yet it was
not market day, when the streets are far more crowded and full of
bustle.
Some idea of the enormous amount of business in grain done in Chicago
may be formed from the fact that in one year, 1868, sixty-eight
million bushels of grain were shipped from its wharves. It is the
centre of the grain trade of the States; lines of railway concentre
upon it from all parts of the interior; and, by means of shipping, the
produce is exported to the Eastern States, to Great Britain, or to any
other part of the world where it is needed.
The street cars go jingling along with their heavy loads of
passengers. A continual stream of people keeps coming and going. There
are many young ladies afoot, doing their shopping; enveloped in furs,
and some with white scarfs--or "clouds" as they are called--round
their heads. Loud advertisements, of all colours, shapes, and sizes,
abound on every side. Pea-nut sellers at their stands on the pavement
invite the passers-by to purchase, announcing that they roast fresh
every half-hour. What amused me, in one of the by-streets from which
the frozen snow had not been removed, was seeing a number of boys
skating along at full speed.
Fronting the lake is the fashionable avenue of the city. Here, nice
detached houses range along the broad road for miles. Trees shade the
carriage-way, which in summer must look beautiful. Now all is covered
with hard-frozen snow, over which the sleigh-bells sound merrily as
the teams come dashing along. Here comes a little cutter with a pretty
black pony, which trots saucily past, and is followed by a grand
double-seated sleigh drawn by three splendid greys. Other sleighs,
built for lightness and speed, are drawn by fast-trotting horses, in
which the Americans take so much delight. The object of most of the
young men who are out sleighing seems to be to pass the sleigh in
front of them, so that some very smart racing is usually to be seen
along the Avenue drive.
As might be expected from the extent and wealth of its population,
Chicago is well supplied with places of amusement. I observe that
Christine Nilsson is here at present, and she is an immense favourite.
There are also many handsome stone churches in the city, which add
much to the fine appearance of the place. But I had neither time to
visit the theatres nor the churches, as my time in Chicago was already
up, and I, accordingly, made arrangements for pursuing my journey
eastward.[17]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 17: It will be observed that the above summary description
applies to Chicago as it was seen by the writer in February last.
While these sheets are passing through the press, the appalling
intelligence has arrived from America that the magnificent city has
been almost entirely destroyed by fire!]
[Illustration: NIAGARA FALLS--AMERICAN SIDE.]
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHICAGO TO NEW YORK.
LEAVE CHICAGO--THE ICE HARVEST--MICHIGAN CITY--THE FOREST--A RAILWAY
SMASHED--KALAMAZOO--DETROIT--CROSSING INTO CANADA--AMERICAN
MANNERS--ROEBLING'S SUSPENSION BRIDGE--NIAGARA FALLS IN WINTER--GOAT
ISLAND--THE AMERICAN FALL--THE GREAT HORSE-SHOE FALL--THE RAPIDS FROM
THE LOVERS' SEAT--AMERICAN COUSINS--ROCHESTER--NEW YORK--A
CATASTROPHE--RETURN HOME.
For some distance out of Chicago, the railway runs alongside the fine
avenue fronting Lake Michigan. We pass a long succession of villas
amidst their gardens and shrubberies, now white with snow and frost.
Then we cross an inlet on a timber viaduct laid on piles driven into
the bed of the lake. The ice at some parts is thrown up irregularly in
waves, and presents a strange aspect. It looks as if it had been
frozen solid in one moment at a time when the wind was blowing pretty
hard.
At another part, where the ice is smoother, men were getting in the
ice harvest between us and the shore. The snow is first cleared from
the surface by means of a snow plane. Then the plough, drawn by a
horse, with a man guiding the sharp steel cutter, makes a deep groove
into the ice. These grooves are again crossed by others at right
angles, until the whole of the surface intended to be gathered in is
divided into sections of about four feet square. When that is done,
several of the first blocks taken out are detached by means of
hand-saws; after which the remainder are easily broken off with
crow-bars. The blocks are then stored in the large ice-houses on
shore, several of which are so large as to be each capable of holding
some 20,000 tons of ice.
The consumption of ice in the States is enormous. Every one takes ice
in their water, in winter as well as in summer. Even the commonest
sort of people consume it largely; and they send round to the store
for ten cents' worth of ice, just as our people send round to the
nearest public for six penny worth of beer. I have heard Americans who
have been in London complain of the scarcity of ice with us, and the
parsimonious way in which it is used. But then we have not the
enormous natural stores of ice close to our doors, as they have at
Chicago and many other of the large American towns.
Meanwhile we have skirted the shores of the lake, and shot into the
country, the snow lying deep in the fields, in some places quite
covering the tops of the fences. After passing through a rather
thickly-wooded country, we came to Michigan city, which stands close
to the lake, with a river flowing past it, on which large barges piled
high with timber are now completely frozen up. What a pretty place
this Michigan must be in summer time, when the trees which line the
streets, and all the shady gardens about it, are clad in green. Even
now the town has a brisk, cheerful look. The sleighs are running
merrily over the snow, and the omnibuses glide smoothly along the
streets on their "runners."
Taking one last look of the great inland sea, we struck across the
broad peninsula formed by Lake Michigan on one side and Lake Huron on
the other, to the town of Detroit. The country was very thickly wooded
in some places,--apparently the remains of the old primeval forest.
Yet there were towns and villages at frequent intervals along the
route. The deer have not yet been extirpated, for often and again I
saw their tracks in the snow along the banks of the railway.
At one part of the road the speed of the train slackened, and the
engine moved along slowly, whistling as it went. What was wrong? I got
out on to the platform to see. We soon came up to a smashed train;
frames of cars, wrecks of cases, wheels, axles, and _dГ©bris_, lying
promiscuously tumbled together. I asked the conductor what had
happened? He answered quite coolly, "Guess the express ran into the
goods train!" It looked very much like it!
In the course of the day we passed several small manufacturing towns.
It seemed so odd, when we appeared as if travelling through the back
woods, to see above the trees, not far off, a tall red chimney, where
not long before we had passed the track of the wild deer. There was
one very large manufactory--so large that it had a special branch to
itself connecting it with the main track--at a place called Kalamazoo,
reminding one of Red Indians and war trails over this ground not so
very long ago. The town of Kalamazoo itself is a large and busy place:
who knows but that it may contain the embryo of some future Leeds or
Manchester?
It was dark when the train reached Detroit, where we had to cross the
river which runs between Lake St. Clair and Lake Erie by ferry-boat
into Canada. The street being dark, I missed my way, and at last found
myself on the edge of the water when I least expected it. I got on
board just as the last bell was sounding before the boat put off from
the quay. I then had my baggage checked on to Niagara, a custom-house
officer on board marking all the pieces intended only to pass through
Canada, thereby avoiding examination. All the arrangements of the
American railways with respect to luggage seem to me excellent, and
calculated greatly to promote the convenience of the travelling
public.
We were not more than a quarter of an hour on board the ferry-boat,
during which I found time to lay in a good supper in the splendid
saloon occupying the upper story of the vessel. Arrived at the
Canadian side, there was a general rush to the train; and the
carriages were soon filled. There were great complaints amongst some
of the passengers that the Pullman's cars were all full, and that no
beds were to be had; there being usually a considerable run upon these
convenient berths, especially in the depth of winter.
My next neighbour during the night was a very pleasant gentleman--an
American. I must here confess to the agreeable disappointment I have
experienced with respect to the Americans I have hitherto come in
contact with. I have as yet met with no specimens of the typical
Yankee depicted by satirists and novelists. In my innocence I expected
to be asked in the cars such questions as "I guess you're a Britisher,
Sir?" "Where do you come from, Stranger?" "Where are you going to,
Sir?" "What are you going to do when you get there?" and such like. It
is true that at San Francisco I encountered a few of such questions,
but the persons who put them were for the most part only hotel
touters. Among the Americans of about my own condition with whom I
travelled, I met with nothing but politeness and civility. I will go
further, and say that the generality of Americans are more ready to
volunteer a kindness than is usual in England. They are always ready
to answer a question, to offer a paper, to share a rug, or perhaps
tender a cigar. They are generally easy in manner, yet unobtrusive. I
will also add, that so far as my experience goes, the average
intelligence of young men in America is considerably higher than it is
in England. They are better educated and better informed; and I met
few or none who were not able to enter into any topic of general
conversation, and pursue it pleasantly.
I saw but little of Canada, for I passed through what is called the
"London district" of it in the night. It was about four in the morning
when the train reached the suspension bridge which crosses from Canada
into the States, about a mile and a half below the Falls of Niagara.
We were soon upon the bridge,--a light, airy-looking structure, made
principally of strong wire,--and I was out upon the carriage platform,
looking down into the gorge below. It was bright moonlight, so that I
could see well about me. There were the snow-covered cliffs on either
side, and the wide rift between them two hundred and fifty feet deep,
in the bottom of which ran the river at a speed of about thirty miles
an hour. It almost made the head dizzy to look down. But we were soon
across the bridge, and on solid land again. We were already within
hearing of the great roar of the Falls, not unlike the sound of an
express train coming along the track a little distance of. Shortly
after, we reached our terminus and its adjoining hotel, in which for a
time I forgot the Falls and everything else in a sound sleep.
The first thing that struck me on wakening was the loud continuous
roar near at hand. I was soon up and out, and on my way to the Falls,
seated in a grand sleigh drawn by a pair of fine black horses.
Remember it was the dead of winter, the fifteenth of February, not by
any means the time of the year for going about sight-seeing; and yet I
fancy the sight of Niagara in mid-winter must be quite as astonishing,
and perhaps even more picturesque, than at any other season.
Over the crisp snow, and through the clean little town, the sleigh
went flying, the roar of the water growing louder as we neared the
Falls. Soon we are at the gates of a bridge, where a toll is charged
for admission to the island from which the great Falls are best seen.
Crossing the bridge, we reach the small island, on which a large paper
mill has been erected; and I am pointed to a rock to which last winter
a poor fellow--beyond the reach of safety, though in sight--clung for
hours, until, unable to hold on any longer, he was finally swept away
down the torrent.
We cross another small bridge, and are on the celebrated Goat Island,
which divides the great Canadian from the smaller American fall. My
driver first took me to a point on the American side of this island,
from which a fine view is to be obtained. The sight is certainly most
wonderful. I walked down a steep pathway slippery with ice, with steps
cut here and there in the rock, and suddenly found myself on the brink
of the precipice. Close to my left, the water was pouring down into a
chasm a hundred and sixty feet below, disappearing in a great blue
cavern of ice that seemed to swallow it up. By the continual freezing
of the spray, this great ice-cave reaches higher and higher during
winter time. Immense icicles, some fifty feet long, hang down the
sides of the rock immediately over the precipice. The trees on the
island above were bent down with the weight of the frozen spray, which
hung in masses from their branches. The blending of the ice and water
far beneath my feet was a remarkable sight. As the spray and mist from
time to time cleared off, I looked deep down into the dark icy abyss,
in which the water roared, and foamed, and frothed, and boiled again.
Then I went to the other side of the island, quite fairy-like as it
glistened in the sunlight, gemmed with ice-drops, and clad in its
garment of white. And there I saw that astounding sight, the great
Horse-shoe Fall, seven hundred feet across, over which the enormous
mass of water pours with tremendous force. As the water rolled over
the cliff, it seemed to hang like a green curtain in front of it,
until it reached half-way down; then gradually breaking, white streaks
appeared in it, broadening as they descended, until at length the
mighty mass sprouted in foam, and fell roaring into the terrific gulf
some hundred and fifty feet below. A great ice bridge stretched across
the river beyond the boiling water at the bottom of the Fall, rough
and uneven like some of the Swiss glaciers. Clouds of spray flew
about, seemingly like smoke or steam. Words fail to describe a scene
of such overpowering grandeur as this.
I was next driven along Goat Island to a small suspension bridge, some
distance above the Falls, where I crossed over to one of the three
Sister Islands--small bits of land jutting right out into the middle
of the rapids. The water passes between each of these islands. I went
out to the extreme point of the furthest. The sight here is perhaps
second only to the great Fall itself. The river, about a mile and a
quarter wide, rushes down the heavy descent, contracting as it goes,
before leaping the precipice below. The water was tossing and foaming
like an angry sea, reminding me of the ocean when the waves are
running high and curling their white crests after a storm.
These rapids had far more fascination for me than the Falls
themselves. I could sit and watch for hours the water rushing past;
and it was long before I could leave them, though my feet were in deep
snow. It must be very fine to sit out at that extreme point in summer
time, shaded by the rich foliage of the trees, and dream away the
hours. The seat is known as the Lovers' seat, but lovers would need to
have strong lungs to shout their whispers to each other there, if they
wished them to be heard.
At length I turned my back upon the foaming torrent, and resumed the
road to my hotel. On my way back, I stopped at the genuine Niagara
curiosity-shop, where photographs, Indian bead and feather work, and
articles manufactured out of the "real Niagara spar," are sold. Only
the photographs are really genuine and good. The bead-work is a
manufacture, and probably never passed through Indian hands; while the
Niagara spar is imported from Matlock, much of it doubtless returning
to England in the form of curious specimens of workmanship from the
Great Falls.
* * * * *
I have very little more to add relating to my journey through the
States. I was not making a tour, but passing through America at
railway speed on my way home to England; and I have merely described,
in the most rapid and cursory way, the things that struck me along my
route. All that remained for me to do between Niagara and New York,
was to call at Rochester, and pay an unheralded visit to my American
cousins there. What English family has not got relations in the
States? I find that I have them living in Rochester, Boston, and St.
Louis. It is the same blood, after all, in both countries--in Old and
New England.
After travelling through the well-cultivated, well-peopled country
that extends eastward from Niagara to Rochester, I arrived at my
destination about four in the afternoon, and immediately went in
search of my American cousins. I was conscious of being a rather
untidy sight to look at, after my long railway journey of nearly three
thousand miles, and did not know what, in my rough travelling guise,
my reception might be. But any misgivings on that point were soon set
at rest by the cordiality of my reception. I was at once made one of
the family, and treated as such. I enjoyed with my new-found relatives
four delightful days of recruiting rest and friendly intercourse. To
use the common American phrase, I had a "real good time."
The town of Rochester is much bigger than the English city of the same
name. It is a place of considerable trade and importance, with a
population of about 60,000. Some of the commercial buildings are very
fine; and I was told of one place, that it was "the finest fire-proof
establishment in the world." Possibly the American world was meant,
and that is by no means a small one. Rochester is especially famous
for its nurseries, where trees of all kinds are reared and sent far
and near; its principal nursery firms being known all over Europe.
There are some fine waterfalls near Rochester--the falls of the
Genesee. Had I not seen Niagara, I should have doubtless wondered at
their beauty. Their height is as great, but the quantity of water is
wanting. After Niagara, all other falls must seem comparatively tame.
My short stay in Rochester was made most pleasant. I felt completely
at home and at my ease in the American household I had so suddenly
entered. I also accompanied my cousins to two evening entertainments,
one a fancy dress ball, and the other a _soirГ©e dansante_, where I
made the passing acquaintance of some very agreeable American ladies
and gentlemen. I was really sorry to leave Rochester; and as the
carriage drove me along the pretty avenue to the station, I felt as if
I were just leaving a newly-found home.
I travelled from Rochester to New York during the night, passing
several large towns, and at some places iron-furnaces at work,
reminding one of the "Black country" in England by night. The noble
Hudson was hard bound in ice as we passed along its banks, so that I
missed the beautiful sight that it presents in summer time. But it is
unnecessary for me to dwell either upon the Hudson or the city of New
York, about which most people are in these days well read up. As for
New York, I cannot say that I was particularly struck by it, except by
its situation, which is superb, and by its magnitude, which is
immense. It seemed to me only a greater Manchester, with larger
signboards, a clearer atmosphere, and a magnificent river front. It
contains no great buildings of a metropolitan character, unless
amongst such buildings are to be included hotels, newspaper offices,
and dry goods stores, some of which are really enormous piles.
Generally speaking, New York may be described as a city consisting of
comparatively insignificant parts greatly exaggerated, and almost
infinitely multiplied. It may be want of taste; but on the whole, I
was better pleased with Chicago. The season of my visit was doubtless
unpropitious. Who could admire the beauties of the noble Central Park
in the dead of winter? Perhaps, too, I was not in a good humour to
judge of New York, as it was there that I met with my first and only
misfortune during my two years' absence from home. For there I was
robbed.
I had been strongly urged by my friends at Rochester to go to Booth's
Theatre to see Mr. Booth play in 'Richelieu,' as a thing not to be
seen in the same perfection anywhere else. I went accordingly, enjoyed
Booth's admirable acting, and returned to my hotel. When I reached
there, on feeling my pocket, lo! my purse was gone! I had been
relieved of it either in the press at the theatre exit, or in entering
or leaving the tramway car on my return.
I had my ticket for Liverpool safe in my waistcoat pocket; but there
was my hotel bill to pay, and several necessaries to purchase for use
during the voyage home. What was I to do? I knew nobody in New York.
It was too far from home to obtain a remittance from thence, and I was
anxious to leave without further delay. I bethought me of the kind
friends I had left at Rochester, acquainted them with my misfortune,
and asked for a temporary loan of twenty dollars. By return post an
order arrived for a hundred. "A friend in need is a friend indeed."
The same post brought two letters from my Rochester friends, in one of
which my correspondent said that my misfortune was one that few
escaped in New York. He himself had been robbed of his purse in a
Broadway stage; his father had been robbed of a pocket-book containing
money; and his father-in-law of a gold watch. My other kind
correspondent, who enclosed me his cheque, said, by way of caution,
"You must bear in mind that the principal streets of New York are
full of pickpockets and desperadoes. They will recognize you as a
stranger, so you must be wary. You may be 'spotted' as you go into or
come out of the banking office. It often happens that a man is robbed
in Wall Street in open day,--is knocked down and his money 'grabbed'
before his eyes. So be very careful and trust nobody. Go alone to the
banking office, or get a trusty servant from the house to go with you.
But let no outsider see cheque or money."
Of course I took very good care not to be robbed in New York a second
time, and I got away from it in safety next morning by the 'City of
Brooklyn,' taking with me the above very disagreeable reminiscence of
my New York experience. It is not necessary to describe the voyage
home,--the passage from New York to Liverpool being now as familiar an
event as the journey from London to York. At Queenstown I telegraphed
my arrival to friends at home, and by the time the ship entered the
Mersey there were those waiting at the landing-place to give me a
cordial welcome back. I ran up to town by the evening train, and was
again at home. Thus I completed my Voyage Round the World, in the
course of which I have gained health, knowledge, and experience, and
seen and learnt many things which will probably furnish me with matter
for thought in all my future life.
INDEX.
Albatross, 45, 51.
Alta, Central Pacific Railway, 258.
American cousins, 296;
Indians, 262;
manners, 291;
railway cars, 251.
Amusements onboard ship, 18, 24, 25, 43, 54, 56.
Arrival of Home Mail, Majorca, 179.
Arum esculentum, Honolulu, 227.
Atlantic and Pacific Railway, 250-274;
the railway cars, 251;
Sacramento city, 253;
scenery of the Sierra Nevada, 255;
Cape Horn, 258;
snow-sheds, 259, 270;
the Summit, 259;
the Sage desert, 261;
Shoshonie Indians, 262;
Devil's Peak, 263;
Weber CaГ±on, 266;
Laramie City, 270;
Cheyenne, 272;
Prairie Dog City, 273;
River Platte, 273;
arrival at Omaha, 274.
Auckland, New Zealand, 205-211.
Aurora Australis, 129.
Australia, first sight of, 56;
last, 204.
Autumn rains, Majorca, 130.
Avoca, 176.
Azores, 17.
Ballarat, visit to, 163-170.
Bank, at Majorca, 91, 130.
Bank-robbing, 159.
Bar at a Gold-rush, 87.
Batman, first settler in Victoria, 63.
Battle Mount, Nevada, 262.
Becalmed on the Line, 29.
Beggars, absence of in Victoria, 64, 95.
Bell-bird, 134.
Birds in South Atlantic, 50.
Black Thursday in Victoria, 121.
'Blue Jacket,' burning of, 32-38.
Bonitos, 22, 25.
Booth's Theatre, New York, 299.
Botanic Gardens Melbourne, 71.
Botany Bay, 193.
Bourke Street, Melbourne, 61.
Brighton, 59, 71.
Brooke, the murderer, 156-158.
Bush-Animals:--marsupials, 131, 132, 138, 139;
reptiles, 137;
birds, 134-136.
Bush-fires, 121.
Bush, the, 104;
in summer, 118, 127;
by moonlight, 178.
Bush-piano, 129.
Calms on the Line, 29.
Cape Brett, 205.
Cape de Verd Islands, 21.
Cape Horn, Central Pacific Railway, 258.
Cape Leeuwin, 56.
Cape of Good Hope, 44, 47.
Cape Otway, 56, 57.
Cape-pigeons, 46, 51.
Carlton Gardens, Melbourne, 65.
Castlemaine, 80.
Castle Rocks, Rocky Mountains, 267.
Cautions against robbers, 160, 299.
Central Pacific Railway, 255-264.
Channel, in the, 5, 6.
Cheltenham, Australia, 71.
Cheyenne, U.S., 272.
Chicago, arrival at, 279;
enterprise of, 280;
water-supply, 280-281;
tunnels under river, 281, 284;
buildings, 283, 284;
pigs and pork, 284;
grain-trade of, 285;
sleighs, 286;
departure from, 287.
Chinese, character, 65-66;
gardens and gardeners, 93, 110, 115;
music, 102;
burials, 103;
gold-diggers, 142-144, 148;
at Honolulu, 234;
at San Francisco, 246.
Christmas, in Victoria, 121, 190.
'City of Melbourne,' s.s., 202-19.
Climate of Victoria:
winter, 107;
spring, 116;
summer, 117;
autumn, 125, 130.
Clunes, 109-111, 170.
Coach, journeys by:
Castlemaine to Majorca, 81;
Clunes to Ballarat, 164;
Auckland to Onehunga, 208.
Cochon Islands, 53.
Collingwood Bank, attempt to rob, 159.
Collins Street, Melbourne, 62.
Cook, Capt., in New South Wales, 193.
Corner, the, Ballarat, 168.
Council Bluffs, U.S., 276.
Crab-holes, 171.
Crozet Islands, 52.
Dale Creek Bridge, U.S., 271.
Death on board ship, 242.
Deck-bath in Tropics, 23.
Descent into a gold-mine, 147.
Detroit, U.S., 290;
to Niagara, 290-292.
Devil's Peak, Rocky Mountains, 263;
Gate, 266.
Diggers,
at a gold-rush, 86, 87, 88;
amateur, 145;
Chinese, 142, 148;
hospitality of, 97, 98.
Diggers' tales, 126, 150, 155.
Divers, Honolulu, 232.
Drink-licence, Honolulu, 234.
Drunkenness, absence of, in Majorca, 94.
Dust-winds in Victoria, 128.
Echo City and CaГ±on, U.S., 267.
Elsternwick, 71.
Elko, Nevada, 263.
Epsom, New Zealand, 209.
Eucalyptus, 108.
Farms, near Majorca, 125, 126, 128.
Ferry-boat, San Francisco, 249.
FГЄte at Talbot, 173-175;
at Majorca, for School-fund, 185.
Fires in the Bush, 121.
Fire-brigade, Ballarat, 169.
Fitzroy Gardens, Melbourne, 65.
Flies in Majorca, 121.
Floods, about Majorca, 111;
at Ballarat, 113-114;
at Clunes, 113.
Flowers, Majorca, 117.
Flying-fish, 22, 217.
Frenchman in Majorca, 181.
Fruits, Majorca, 122.
Funeral of Majorca Town Clerk, 187.
'Galatea,' H.M.S., 205, 210.
'George Thompson,' of London, 41.
Germans, in Victoria, 90, 91, 180, 181.
Genesee Falls, U.S., 297.
Goat Island, Niagara, 293.
Gold: buying, 140-144;
finding, 150-152;
mining, 145-152, 166, 256;
purifying, 141-142;
rushing, 85-88, 153, 165, 166.
Grain-trade, Chicago, 285.
Grapes, in Victoria, 124.
'Great Britain,' of Liverpool, 191.
Green sea, shipping a, 49.
Gum-tree, Australian, 83, 108.
Harvest-time, Majorca, 125.
Havelock rush, 154.
Hawaii, 218.
Heat in summer, Australia, 118.
Holystoning, 13.
Honey suckers, 134.
Honolulu: arrival at, 219;
the harbour, 220;
commercial importance of, 222;
description of, 223;
churches, 224;
Post Office, 224;
King's Palace at, 226;
visit to the Nuuanu Valley, 226-231;
Poi, 227;
Queen Emma's villa, 228;
the Pali, 230;
the natives, 231;
the women, 233;
liquor-licences, 234;
Chinese opium-licence, 234;
theatricals at, 235;
climate of, 227, 236.
Honolulu to San Francisco, 237-243.
Horse-shoe Fall, Niagara, 294.
Hudson River, 298.
Humboldt, U.S., 261.
Ice-Bird, 51.
Ice consumption in U.S., 288.
Ice harvest, Lake Michigan, 288.
Illinois Prairie, 278.
Irish in Majorca, 91.
Kalamazoo, U.S., 290.
Kamehameha V., 237.
Kanakas, Honolulu, 229-233.
Kangaroo, 138, 200.
Landing in Australia, 59.
Laramie City, U.S., 270.
Leatherheads, 134.
Leeches in Victoria, 129.
Les ApГґtres Islands, 53.
Libraries, Public, in Australia,--Melbourne, 66;
Ballarat, 167;
Majorca, 186.
Line, cross the, 29, 217.
Liquor-law, Honolulu, 234.
Lowe Kong Meng Mine, 147.
'Lord Raglan,' 26, 27.
Lovers' Seat, Niagara, 295.
Luggage, on American Railways, 290.
Lung complaints, sea voyage in, 10.
MacCullum's Creek, 114.
Macquarie Lighthouse, 194.
Magpie, Australian, 135.
Mails: Victoria and Honolulu, 225;
delays of, New Zealand, 210;
newspapers by Ocean mail, treatment of, 218;
arrival at Majorca, 179.
Majorca, life in, 84-188.
Manukau Bay, New Zealand, 210.
Maoris, 207.
Marsupials, 138, 139.
Maryborough, 81;
rush at, 126.
Mathews, Mr. Charles, 192, 235.
Mauna Loa, Sandwich Islands, 219.
Melbourne, arrival at, 60;
description of, 62;
youth of, 63;
rapid growth of, 64;
absence of beggars, 64;
the Chinese quarter, 65;
public library, 67;
visit to Pentridge Prison, 67-70;
Botanic Gardens, 71;
the Yarra, 71;
the sea suburbs of, 71;
hospitality of, 72;
Christmas in, 190.
Michigan City, U.S., 289.
Michigan, Lake, 280-282, 285, 287.
Mina Birds, 135.
Mississippi River, 228.
Missouri River, 276.
Monument to Cook, 193 (_note_) (now Page 201, _footnote_ 14).
Moonlight in Victoria, 119, 178.
Mormon fortifications, 267.
'Moses Taylor,' s.s., 232, 239, 241.
Mount Greenock, Australia, 122.
Musquitoes 133, 236.
New chums, 64, 247.
New York, 298.
New Zealand, 202-211.
Niagara Falls in winter, 292-296.
Nursery Gardens, Rochester, 297.
Nuuanu Valley, Honolulu, 226.
Oahu Island, 222.
Oakland, California, 251.
Ogden, Utah, 264.
Onehunga, New Zealand, 208-210.
Opium-licence, Honolulu, 234.
Opossum-shooting, 131-133.
Pacific, up the, 212-243.
Pali, of the Nuuanu Valley, 230.
Paroquets, 135, 136.
Parliament House, Melbourne, 61.
'Patter _v._ Clatter,' at Honolulu, 235 (_note_) (now Page 236,
_footnote 16_).
Pentridge Prison, 67-70.
Phosphorescence, 17.
Pigtail, Chinese, 66.
Piping-Crow, 135, 136.
Platte River, U.S., 274.
Plymouth Harbour, 8.
Poi, 227, 228.
Port Jackson, 194-196, 203.
Port Phillip Heads, 57.
Possession Island, 53.
'Pyrmont,' of Hamburg, 32, 38.
Queenscliffe, Australia, 58, 191.
Race with 'George Thompson,' 42.
Railway: Atlantic and Pacific, _see Atlantic_;
to Castlemaine, 79;
carriage, American, 251;
smash, 289;
touters at S. Francisco, 247.
Rain in Victoria, 109, 111.
Robbed in New York, 299.
Rochester, U.S., 296.
'Rosa' of Guernsey, abandoned, 7.
Rough life at the Diggings, 153.
Rushes, gold, 85, 86, 153, 165, 166.
Sacramento, California, 254.
Sage-bush, 261.
'Saginaw,' wreck of the, 238.
Sail Rock, New Zealand, 205.
St. Kilda, Victoria, 59, 71.
San Antonio, 21.
Sandridge, Victoria, 59, 61, 65, 191.
Sandwich Islands, 221.
San Francisco, 243-250;
arrival at, 243;
Bay of, 250;
buildings, 245;
Chinese quarter, 246;
ferry-boat, 249;
money-brokers, 246;
railway touters, 247;
railway terminus, 250;
streets, 246.
Schools, Majorca, 184.
Scotch at Majorca, 91.
Serious family, visit to a, 74.
Shipping a green sea, 49.
Shooting sea-birds, 52;
opossums, 131-133.
Shoshonie Indians, 262.
"Shouting" for drinks, 94.
Sierra Nevada, 255-264.
Sister Islands, Niagara, 295.
Snakes in the Bush, 137.
Snow-sheds and fences, Atlantic
and Pacific Railway, 259, 260, 270.
South Atlantic, 41.
Spring at Majorca, 116.
Squatters, 105, 127, 128.
Steam-voyage, monotony of, 212.
Stevenson, on power of waves, 49 (_note_) (now Page 53, _footnote_ 2).
Stink-pot, 51.
Stockton, California, 253.
Summer in Victoria, 117.
Sunrise in the Bush, 178.
Sunset in the Tropics, 30.
Suspension Bridge, Niagara, 292.
Sydney, 196-202;
age of, 197;
animals in Botanic Gardens, 200;
Botanic Gardens, 199, 200;
compared with Melbourne, 197, 198;
Cove, 196;
description of, 197;
domain, 199;
harbours, 197;
public buildings, 197, 199;
suburbs, 201.
