listlessly where it was not ranted
and torn to tatters. I sat it through and then went back to my hotel....
The loneliness of that room as I entered it has never left my memory.
For long hours I did not sleep. The city had 600 night watch, so the
manual said, and I could hear some of them going their rounds. At
last ... I awoke and it was morning. I awoke with a sense of delight in
the strength and vitality which sleep had restored to me.... I went below
to breakfast and to find the way to travel to Illinois.
CHAPTER IV
The clerk of the hotel told me that the best route was by way of Albany,
the canal, the Great Lakes to Chicago; that when I got there I would
likely find a boat or stage service to Jacksonville. I could leave at noon
for Albany if I wished. Accordingly, I made ready to do so.
I was entranced with the river boat. It was longer than the Columbia
and Caledonia. And it was propelled by steam. It had the most
enormous wheels. And no sooner were we under way than I found that
we were gliding along at the rate of twenty miles an hour. The swiftly
passing hills and palisades of the Hudson served to mark our speed.
There were great saloons, lovely awnings under which to read or
lounge, promenade decks. And there was a gay and well-behaved
crowd of passengers.... At dinner we were seated at long tables, and
served with every luxury. And the whole journey cost me less than
seven shillings.
On arriving at Albany that night at about nine o'clock I found myself in
the best of luck. I could get passage on a canal boat the next morning
for Buffalo; rather I was permitted to sleep on board.... I got on and
retired. I awoke just as the boat was beginning to start. I had never seen
anything like this before. The boat was narrow, sharp, gayly painted. It
was drawn by three horses, each ridden by a boy who urged the horses
forward. We traveled at the great speed of five miles an hour.
But it was delightful. We were more than three days going from
Albany to Buffalo. The time was well spent. The scenery was varied
and beautiful. All the while we were climbing, for Lake Erie, to which
we had to be lifted, was much above us. We went through lovely
valleys; we ran beside glistening streams and rivers; we wound around
hills. The farms were large and prosperous. The villages were new,
fresh with white paint and green blinds, hidden among flowers and
shrubbery.
You see, I am eighteen and these external objects realize my dreams
and stimulate them. I do not know these people. They are frank,
talkative, often vulgar and presuming. But they are friendly. There is
much merriment on board, for we have to dodge down frequently to
save our heads from the bridges which the farmers build right across
the canal. The ladies have to be warned and assisted. There are narrow
escapes and shouts of laughter. And when the dinner bell is rung by a
comical negro every one rushes for the dining room. I am introduced
again to the American oyster, raw, fried, and stewed. It is the most
delicious of discoveries among the new viands. Then we have
wonderful roast turkey, chicken, and the greatest variety of vegetables
and sweets. I am keeping a daily record of events and impressions to
mail to my dear grandmother when I shall arrive at Buffalo....
Sometimes I get tired of the boat. Then I go on land and run along the
path behind the horses. A young woman on her way to Michigan to
teach school joins me in these reliefs from the tedium of the boat. We
exchange a few words. But I see that I am not old enough for her. I
have already observed her in confiding conversation with a man about
the age of Yarnell. And soon they go together to trot along the path, to
stray off a little into the meadows, or at the base of the picturesque
hills.... I am interested in the talk of the passengers, and cannot choose
but follow it at times.... One man has been reading the _New Yorker_,
printed by H. Greeley and Company. I learn that Horace Greeley is his
full name, and he comes in for a berating at the hands of a man with
one of the characteristic goatees that I first observed at Castle Garden.
The Whigs! I had always associated this party with latitudinarian
principles. Now I hear it called a centralist party, a monarchist party. A
voluble man, who chews tobacco,
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