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25 chapters
A GALLOP AMONG AMERICAN SCENERY: OR, SKETCHES OF AMERICAN SCENES AND MILITARY ADVENTURE
A GALLOP AMONG AMERICAN SCENERY: OR, SKETCHES OF AMERICAN SCENES AND MILITARY ADVENTURE
BY AUGUSTUS E. SILLIMAN. NEW-YORK: D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. PHILADELPHIA: GEO. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESNUT STREET. M DCCC XLIII. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, BY D. APPLETON AND CO., In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New-York. H. LUDWIG, PRINTER, 72 Vesey-st., N. Y. TO BENJAMIN D. SILLIMAN, THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, BY HIS BROTHER. A number of the following Sketches have appeared at intervals in
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BANKS OF THE POTOMAC.
BANKS OF THE POTOMAC.
No.—State-street—(storm without)—apartment strewed with sundry bachelor appurtenances, fronting on the Battery—a gentleman, in dressing-gown and embroidered slippers, measuring the room with hasty strides—exclaimeth impatiently— North-east by the flags of the shipping in the bay! North-east by the chill rain dashing on the window panes! North-east by the weather-cocks on all the steeples, from St. Paul’s to the dog-vane on the stable end! North-east by the ache of every bone in my body! Eheu! Wh
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THE COUNTRY PASTOR.
THE COUNTRY PASTOR.
The slow tolling—now almost dying away, and now striking more strongly upon the ear—arose from the church in the neighbouring town, where my friends were in the habit of worshipping, and where they were to have the opportunity on that evening of hearing the voice of their time-honoured pastor—an opportunity which his great age and increasing infirmities had made equally rare and valuable. I gladly accepted the invitation to join them, as, aside from a desire to see the aged man, of whom I had so
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MOUNT VERNON.
MOUNT VERNON.
The sun raised himself in a huge globe of fire above the eastern horizon, as my friend’s spirited bays stood saddled at the door of the cottage, pawing, champing the bit, and playfully endeavouring to bite the black boy who held them. Finishing an early breakfast, we were soon in our saddles and full gallop on our journey; the dogs in an ecstacy of delight, bounding along at our sides, overhauling and putting in bodily terror every unfortunate cur that came in their way, as they sportively tumbl
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THE MEDICAL STUDENT.
THE MEDICAL STUDENT.
I remained several weeks on my friend Tom’s plantation, enjoying the course of life that he pursued, which was entirely consonant to my tastes. His plantation consisted of about three hundred acres, principally laid down in wheat, indian corn and tobacco, though some of it still remained in meadow and woodland;—this, with a handsome productive property in the neighbouring towns of Alexandria and Washington, afforded him an abundant income to indulge his liberal, though not extravagant tastes. He
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THE RESURRECTIONISTS.
THE RESURRECTIONISTS.
As we returned to our lodgings, our conversation naturally turned upon the agitating event that we had just witnessed, and the extreme caution necessary in the procuring of subjects for anatomical examination. Lee related an occurrence that had happened to Dr. ——, a gentleman of high standing in South Carolina. Shortly after the American revolution, he visited Europe for the purpose of pursuing his medical studies, and was received into the family of the same distinguished gentleman, whom we had
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No. I.
No. I.
The sun became more and more powerful as it ascended towards the meridian, and was reflected with effulgent intensity from the mirror-surface of the river. As we bent over the side and looked far down into the deep vault reflected from above, and saw our gallant little yacht, with her white sails and dark hull, suspended with even minute tracery over it, we could almost imagine ourselves with the Ancient Mariner, “in a painted ship upon a painted ocean.”—The white sandbanks quivered and palpitat
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No. II.
No. II.
“Well—well—sailors, is queer animals any how—and always ready for a fight or frolic—and, so far as I sees, it don’t much matter which. Now, there was Captain ——, he was a Lieutenant then;—I was up in a draft of men, with him to the lakes in the war, and as there was no canals nor steamboats in them days, they marched us up sojer fashion. As we marched along the road, there was nothing but skylarking and frolic the whole time,—never a cow lying in the road but the lads must ride, nor a pig, but t
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No. III.
No. III.
“But,” says I, “Kennedy—I think you said your draft was bound for the lakes—which did you go to, Ontario, or Erie?” “I was on both, sir,” says he, “afore the war was over; and we got as much accustomed to poking our flying jib-boom into the trees on them shores, as if the sticks was first cousins—which, seeing as how the ships was built in the woods, wouldn’t be much of a wonder. Part of that ere draft staid down on Ontario, with the old commodore, as was watching Sir James, and part was sent up
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No. IV.
No. IV.
“Well, Mr. Kennedy,” says Lee, “you have told us of your victories,—have you always been victorious—have you always had the luck on your side,—where did you lose your arm?” The old man took a long and deliberate survey of the horizon ahead of us, apparently not well pleased with a dark cloud just beginning to lift itself above its edge; but whatever inferences he drew from it he kept to himself, and having relieved his mouth from the quid, and replenished the vacuum by a fresh bite of the pig-ta
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LEE’S PARTISAN LEGION.
LEE’S PARTISAN LEGION.
Old Kennedy quietly proceeded to make the necessary preparations to encounter the tempest. His peacoat was got out of the locker, and tightly buttoned about him, and his tarpaulin well secured by its lanyard to his button-hole. The mainsail and foresail were stowed and secured, and nothing but the jib, the bonnet of which was reefed down, was allowed to remain spread upon our dark and graceful schooner. The cloud in the horizon began to extend itself, increasing and gradually rising and covering
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HUDSON RIVER.
HUDSON RIVER.
Here we are met again, all booted and spurred, and ready for another journey. Come, let us make the most of our time on this mundane sphere, for verily we are but two of the automata of the great moving panorama which is so rapidly hastening o’er its surface—two of the unnumbered millions who, lifted from our cradles, are hurrying with like equal haste towards the great dark curtain of the future, where, drawing its gloomy folds aside, we shall pass behind and disappear for ever. Therefore let u
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NIGHT ATTACK ON FORT ERIE.
NIGHT ATTACK ON FORT ERIE.
Hostler! bring up the horses, we will cross to the Canadian shore, and ride leisurely o’er its battlegrounds. Tighten the girths, John. Take up another hole. So—never mind the stirrup. Jump—I’m in my saddle. Are you ready?— Allons. Well broken is that grey of yours, he has a good long trot—how easy it makes your rise in the saddle, and how graceful is the gait. But here we are at the Ferry. Now, we cross thy stream, Niagara! Now, we stand on British ground! Generous and gallant blood has deeply
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BATTLE OF LUNDY’S LANE.
BATTLE OF LUNDY’S LANE.
We cross thy tranquil plains, Oh! Chippewa. Scott—Ripley—Towson—Hindman—brave soldiers; long will this battle-ground your names remember. And thou too, Riall! brave Englishman, foeman wert thou worthy of warriors’ steel. But far different music has resounded through these continuous woods than the wild bird’s carol, the hum of insects, and the waving of the breeze that now so gently greets our ear. Ay! yonder it is—yonder is the white house. There, said the Major, as General Scott, making a forw
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LAKE GEORGE AND TICONDEROGA.
LAKE GEORGE AND TICONDEROGA.
The Sun of Morning hurls himself in blazing splendour o’er thy crystal waters, beautiful Horicon, as we float upon thy placid bosom, not as of yore, in feathery canoe, but in gaily-coloured bark, drawn by Steam Spirit, as he vainly strives to break his fiery prison. See, how he puffs and pants in the fierce embrace of the glowing element; in furious efforts dragging us onward with frantic swiftness, e’en as the frightened steed, the vehicle wildly bounding after him. As the valve of safety opens
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MONTREAL.
MONTREAL.
Now, in steam palace, we shoot in swift career o’er thy tranquil surface, Lake Champlain—thy rolling mountains, in wavy outline, accompanying us in our rapid progress. Vast primeval forests sleep in stillness along thy borders—their sylvan patriarchs, reigning for centuries, untouched by woodman’s axe, stretch proudly their far-reaching branches, ’till ancient Time, pointing with extended finger the wild spirit of the winds breathes on them as he passes, and they succumb with sullen uproar, long
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THE NUN.
THE NUN.
Now as we pass, look up! How minute appears the colossal statue of Our Lady in its niche on the vast front of the cathedral. And the nunneries—self-constituted prisons for those whom God hath born to freedom—how like birds of evil omen they do congregate. Here is that of the Grey Order. Ring at the gateway—we will enter. Here we pass the court-yard; how still, how gloomy, and how prison-like! This is their hospital. Piteous collection! The blind, the halt, the maimed, the hideously deformed—cons
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CATARACTS OF NIAGARA.
CATARACTS OF NIAGARA.
Now—on, on—over the Chute, and down the Rapid—leaping the Saults—through the rivers, over the islands—we glide—we glide—we rush—we fly. Ho! Ariel, beautiful spirit, riding on thy rainbow—shoot not thy silver arrows at us as we pass. Tricksy spirit—fare thee well—now far in the distance, fare—thee—well! Ha! ha!—Old frolic Puck—sweating, panting, holding thy lubbard sides—we race—we race—we pass thee too—in vain thou strugglest to o’ertake us. Farewell—farewell. Go pinch the housemaids—tickle with
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MOUNT HOLYOKE.
MOUNT HOLYOKE.
Here we are in the middle of the month of August. The “world” have long since fled the hot walls and blazing pavements of old Gotham, and even the very school-boys are let loose from their pale-faced pedagogues, to frolic like young colts in the country. Come, let us not alone remain in the sweltering city. Throw a few things in your carpet-bag—ay, that is sufficient. Make me the guide. We will leave Saratoga and Rockaway to their flirtations—another field is before us. Now, Eastward ho! shall l
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WHITE MOUNTAINS.
WHITE MOUNTAINS.
“Knock! knock! knock!” W-e-l-l. “Thump! thump! thump!” Who’s there? What do you want? “Passengers for the White Mountains, Sir, time to get up,—stage ready.” Is it possible? three o’clock already? W-e-l-l, I’ll get up. Call the gentleman in the next room. Well, my friend, how are you, after your trip of yesterday to Mount Holyoke?—a little stiff in the knees and ancles, eh!—but come, the stage is at the door. Waiter, hold the light. How forlorn look the heavy muddy vehicle, and half-waked horses
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BASS FISHING OFF NEWPORT.
BASS FISHING OFF NEWPORT.
Here we are at Newport—what a little gem of an island—rising like emerald on sapphire, from the surrounding ocean. Neither at Potter’s nor at Whitfield’s, will we take our abode. We will walk up to the Mall. Ay, here, with its green blinds and scrupulously clean piazza, is old Mrs. E——’s, and they are at tea already. Come, take your seat at table. With what serene dignity and kindness the old lady, in her nice plaited cap, her spotless kerchief, and russet poplin dress, her pin ball, with its si
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BRENTON’S REEF.
BRENTON’S REEF.
With what sullen and continuous roar the ocean waves heave in upon this inhospitable reef. See, as they recede, how the long slimy rock-weed hangs dripping, and how deeply the returning surge buries it again. Oh, never shall I forget the scene upon this horrid reef, witnessed in my boyhood. A dark portentous day in autumn, was followed in the evening by a terrific storm. Low, muttering thunder, which had been growling in the distant horizon, as the night set in, grew louder. The perfect stillnes
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OLD TRINITY STEEPLE. BROADWAY NEAR THE BOWLING-GREEN.
OLD TRINITY STEEPLE. BROADWAY NEAR THE BOWLING-GREEN.
(Ground covered with ice—Furious storm of snow and sleet. Two gentlemen becloaked and bemuffled, hurrying in different directions, come in full contact, and mutually recoiling hasten to make apology.) “My dear Sir—a thousand pardons.”—“No, indeed Sir, ’twas I—I was the offending party.”—“No, I assure you—I”—eh!—is it?—it is!—my old friend the reader.—Why, my dear friend—you came upon me as if you had been discharged from a Catapult—a Paixhan shot was nothing to you? But where so fast in the fury
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GREEN-WOOD CEMETERY.
GREEN-WOOD CEMETERY.
[To the untiring exertions of Major D. B. Douglass, Messrs. Joseph A. Perry, Henry E. Pierrepont, Gerrit G. Van Wagenen, and a few other liberal minded gentlemen, the public are indebted for the design and completion of this beautiful place of repose for the dead. It is anticipated that ten miles of avenue will be completed during the coming summer, and when the whole is laid out, according to the proposed plan, that there will be fifteen miles of picturesque road within its precincts. Part of t
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APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
Note to the Resurrectionists. — Ghost in the Grave Yard. —In New-England, most of the burying-grounds as they are called, are at some distance from the villages, and generally neglected and rude in their appearance, frequently overgrown with wild, dank weeds, and surrounded by rough stone walls.—Dr. W., a physician, whose extensive practice gave him a large circuit of country to ride over, relates that returning late one night from visiting a patient who was dangerously ill, his attention was at
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