Part 2 (1/2)
His remains were taken to G---- for interment yesterday.
List! heard you that angel say, As he waved his little wing, ”Come, Freddy, come away, Learn of me a song to sing!”
The most gigantic advertiser--if the _New York Daily Sun_ is to be trusted for information--is Professor Holloway, so well known in this country. According to that paper, he advertises in thirteen hundred papers in the United States, and has expended, in different parts of the world, the enormous sum of nearly half a million sterling, solely for that purpose.
But, reader, there are more interesting objects to dwell upon than these. If you will only ”loaf” up and down Broadway on a fine afternoon, you will see some of the neatest feet, some of the prettiest hands, some of the brightest eyes, and some of the sweetest smiles the wildest beauty-dreamer ever beheld in his most rapturous visions; had they but good figures, they would excite envy on the Alamedas of Andalusia; in short, they are the veriest little ducks in the world, and dress with Parisian perfection. No wonder, then, reader, when I tell you that ”loafing” up and down Broadway is a favourite occupation with the young men who have leisure hours to spare. So attractive did my young friend of the Household Brigade find it, that it was with difficulty he was ever induced to forego his daily pilgrimage. Alas! poor fellow, those days are gone--he has since been ”caught,” and another now claims his undivided adoration.
CHAPTER III.
_Sights and Amus.e.m.e.nts_.
There is a very pleasant yacht club at New York, the festive a.s.sembly whereof is held at Hoboken. Having received a hospitable invite, I gladly availed myself of it, and, crossing the Hudson, a short walk brought me and my chaperon to the club-house--no palatial edifice, but a rustic cottage, with one large room and a kitchen attached, and beautifully situated a few yards from the water's edge, on the woody bank of Hoboken, and on one of the most graceful bends of the river. It commands a splendid view, while perfectly cozy in itself, and is, ”par excellence,” the place for a pic-nic. The property belongs to Commodore Stevens, who is well known to English yachting gentlemen, not only from his having ”taken the s.h.i.+ne out of them” at Cowes, but also for his amiability and hospitality.
On my arrival, I found a host of bachelors, and wedded men _en garcon_, ready to greet me with a hearty welcome. The room was very comfortable, but as unfurnished as those who like to smoke could desire; in fact, barring the table and its burden, the chairs and their occupiers, the remainder of the furniture consisted of models of all the yachts of the club. The only exception was that of the Commodore's triumphant ”Black Maria,” of which extraordinary vessel I purpose speaking more fully hereafter. One of the peculiar customs of the club is, that two members, whose capabilities are beyond dispute, are appointed, one to make the soup, called ”chowder,” the other the punch--or ”toddy,” as it is here termed,--both of these being excellent in their way, and different in many respects from any similar article at home. The proper recipe for the same shall be forthcoming when I give details of the ”Black Maria.”
Our party was a very jovial one, as I think parties generally are when composed of those who are much _on_ the water. Such people naturally look upon a leak as very lubberly and unprofessional, and therefore scrupulously avoid letting _in_ any water, supplying its place with something more cheery, under the enlivening influence whereof, those who would be puzzled to decide whether a hand-organ was playing ”Hail, Columbia!” or ”Pop goes the Weasel,” lose all false modesty as to their musical powers, and become royally (I beg majesty's pardon) vocal.
Choruses receive the additional charm of variety from each vocalist giving his tongue ”universal suffrage” as to power, matter, and melody; everybody evinces a happy independence, and if, as the chorus is beginning, an unlucky wight finds his cigar just going out, he takes a few puffs to save the precious fire, and then starts off Derby pace to catch up his vocal colleagues, blending ten notes into one in his frantic chase.
To any one who delights in the opera, this description might suggest a slight idea of discord, but to one who has enjoyed a mids.h.i.+pman's berth it recals some of the cheeriest days of his life; as I heard the joyous shouts, I felt my grey lank hairs getting black and curly again (?). Do not imagine this merry scene was the produce of any excess; we were as sober as judges, though we felt their gravity would have been out of place; but when some choice spirit--and there was more than one such--with the soul of melody in him, took the field, we left him to make all the running himself, and smoked our cigars with increased vigour, shrouding him in the curling cloud to prevent any nervous hesitation.
Everything, however, must have an end, and as the hour for the last ferry-boat was fast approaching, the voice of melody was hushed in the hall, to echo through the groves of Hoboken and o'er the waters of the Hudson, as we strolled from the club-house to the ferry, and thence to bed.
Among other ”lions” to be seen, my curiosity was excited by the news of a trotting match, to come off at Long Island: some friend was ever ready, so off we started for Brooklyn Ferry, whence we went by railway.
In the olden time these races were as fas.h.i.+onable at New York as Ascot or Epsom are in England; all the _elite_ of both s.e.xes filled the stand, and the whole scene was lively and gay. Various circ.u.mstances, which all who know the turf are aware it is liable to, rendered gentlemen so disgusted with it at Long Island, that they discontinued sending horses to run, and gradually gave up going themselves, and it is now left all but entirely to the ”rowdies,”--_alias_ mob.
The railway carriage into which we got contained about forty of these worthies, all with cigars in their mouths, and exhibiting many strange varieties of features and costume. In the pa.s.sage up and down the middle of the carriage; ragged juvenile vendors of lollipops and peanuts kept patrolling and crying out their respective goods, for which they found a ready market; suddenly another youth entered, and, dispensing a fly-leaf right and left as he pa.s.sed along to each pa.s.senger, disappeared at the other door. At first, I took him for an itinerant advertiser of some Yankee ”Moses and Son,” or of some of those medicinal quacks who strive to rob youth by lies calculated to excite their fears. Judge my astonishment, then, when on looking at the paper, I found it was hymns he was distributing. A short ride brought us close to the course, and, as I alighted, there was the active distributor freely dispensing on every side, everybody accepting, many reading, but all hurrying on to the ground.
Having paid a good round sum as entrance to the stand, I was rather disappointed at nearly breaking my neck, when endeavouring to take advantage of my privilege, for my foot well-nigh went through a hole in the flooring. Never was anything more wretched-looking in this world. It was difficult to believe, that a few years back, this stand had been filled with magnates of the ”upper ten thousand” and stars of beauty: there it was before me, with its broken benches, scarce a whole plank in the floor, and wherever there was one, it was covered with old cigar stumps, sh.e.l.ls of peanuts, orange-peel, &c. When, however, I found that seven people const.i.tuted the number of spectators in the stand, its dilapidation was more easily explained, especially when I discovered that access, with a little activity, was easily obtainable at the sides _gratis_--a fact soon proved by the inroad of a few ”rowdies,” and the ubiquitous vendors of lollipops and peanuts, headed by the persevering distributor of hymns.
Let us turn now from the dreary stand to the scene below. The race-course is a two-mile distance, perfectly level, on a smooth and stoneless road, and forming a complete circle--light trotting waggons are driving about in the centre, taking it easy at sixteen miles an hour; outside are groups of ”rowdies.” making their hooks and looking out for greenhorns--an article not so readily found at Long Island as at Epsom.
The race is to be ”under the saddle,” and the long list of compet.i.tors which had been announced has dwindled down to the old and far-famed Lady Suffolk and the young and unfamed Tacony.
A stir among the ”rowdies” is seen, followed by the appearance ”on the boards” of Lady Suffolk. I gazed in wonder as I saw her--a small pony-looking animal--moving her legs as though they were in splints, and as if six miles an hour was far beyond her powers; soon after, Tacony came forward, the picture of a good bony post-horse, dest.i.tute of any beauty, but looking full of good stuff. The riders have no distinctive dress; a pair of Wellington boots are pulled on outside the trousers, sharp spurs are on the heels--rough and ready looking birds these. The winning-post is opposite the stand, the umpire is there with a deal board in his hand, a whack on the side of the stand ”summons to horse,”
and another summons to ”start.” The start is from the distance-post, so as to let the horses get into the full swing of their pace by the time they reach the winning-post, when, if they are fairly up together, the cry ”Off” is given; if it be not given, they try again. When speaking of the time in which the mile is completed, the fact of its commencing at full speed should always be borne in mind: sometimes false starts are made by one party, on purpose to try and irritate the temper of the adversary's horse; and in the same way, if a man feels he has full command of his own horse, he will yell like a wild Indian, as he nears his adversary, to make him ”break up”--or go into a gallop; and, as they are all trained to speed more by voice than by spur, he very often succeeds, and of course the adversary loses much ground by pulling up into a trot again.
On the present occasion there was no false start; the echo of the second whack was still in the car as they reached the winning-post neck and neck. ”Off” was the word, and away they went. It certainly was marvellous to see how dear old Lady Suffolk and her stiff legs flew round the course; one might have fancied she had been fed on lightning, so quick did she move them, but with wonderfully short steps. Tack, on the contrary, looked as if he had been dieted on India-rubber b.a.l.l.s: every time he raised a hind leg it seemed to shoot his own length a-head of himself; if he could have made his steps as quick as the old lady, he might have done a mile in a minute nearly. Presently, Tacony breaks up, and, ere he pulls into a trot, a long gap is left. Shouts of ”Lady Suffolk, Lady Suffolk wins!” rend the air; a few seconds more, and the giant strides of Tacony lessen the gap at every step: they reach the distance-post neck and neck; ”Tacony wins!” is the cry, and true enough it is--by a length. Young blood beats old blood--India-rubber b.a.l.l.s ”whip” lightning. Time, five minutes.
The usual excitement and disputing follow, the usual time elapses--whack number one is heard, all ready--whack number two, on they come, snaffle bridles, pulling at their horses' mouths as though they would pull the bit right through to the tips of their tails. ”Off” is the cry: away they go again; Tacony breaks up--again a gap, which huge strides speedily close up--again Tacony wins. Time, five minutes five seconds.
All is over, rush to the cars, &c. Remarks:--first, the pace is at the rate of twenty-four miles an hour; second, the clear old lady, who was only beaten by a length, is long out of her teens; is it not wonderful, and is she not glorious in her defeat? Fancy Dowager Lady L---- taking a pedestrian fit, and running a race along Rotten Row with some ”fast young man;” what would you say, if she clutched his coat-tail as he touched the winning-post? Truly, that dear old Lady Suffolk is a marvellous quadruped. Reader, as you do not care to go back again with the Rowdies and Co., we will suppose ourselves returned to New York, and I can only hope you have not been bored with your day's amus.e.m.e.nt.
Among the extraordinary fancies of this extraordinary race--who are ever panting for something new, even if it be a new territory--the most strange is the metallic coffin: the grave is no protection against their mania for novelty. In the windows of a shop in Broadway, this strange, and to my mind revolting, article may be seen, shaped like a mummy, fitting hermetically tight, and with a plate of gla.s.s to reveal the features of the inanimate inmate. I have certainly read of the disconsolate lover who, on the death of her who ungratefully refused to reciprocate his affection, disinterred her body by stealth, supplied himself with scanty provision, and embarking in a small boat, launched forth upon the wide waters, to watch her gradual decomposition till starvation found them one common grave. I also knew an officer, who, having stuffed an old and faithful dog, and placed him on the mantel-piece, when his only child died soon after, earnestly entreated a surgeon to stuff the child, that he might place it beside the faithful dog. Nevertheless, I cannot believe that such aberrations of human intellect are sufficiently frequent to make the Patent Metallic Coffin Company a popular or profitable affair.
An important feature in a populous town is the means of conveyance, which here, in addition to hack cabs and omnibuses, includes railway carriages. I would observe, once for all, that the horses of America, as a whole, may be cla.s.sed as enduring, wiry, and active hacks. You do not see anything to compare with some of the beautiful nags that ”Rotten Row” or Melton exhibits; but, on the other hand, you rarely see the lumbering, lolloping, heavy brutes so common in this country. Then, again, a horse in this country is groomed and turned out in a style which I never saw in America, and therefore shows to much greater advantage, in spite of the Yankee sometimes ornamenting his head with hairs from his tail; while on the other hand, though an Englishman considers a pair of nags that will go a mile in five minutes a great prize, no man in America who is a horse fancier would look at a pair that could not do the same distance in four; nor would he think them worth speaking about, if they could not do the distance in a very few seconds over three minutes. On one side of the water, pace is almost the only object; on the other side, shape and appearance are weighty matters.
The habits of the Americans being essentially gregarious, and business teaching the truism that a cent saved is a cent gained, hackney coaches are comparatively little used by the men; for it must be remembered that idlers in this country are an invisible minority of the community! The natural consequence is, that they are clean and expensive. The drivers are charmingly independent and undeniably free-and-easy birds, but not meaning to be uncivil. One of them showed his independence by asking two dollars one night for a three-mile drive home to the hotel. I inquired of the master, and found the proper charge was a dollar and a half; but, on my sending out the same, Jarvey was too proud to confess he was wrong, and, refusing the money, drove off--nor did I ever hear more of him.