Page images
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors]

we are walking where Richard, Duke of Gloucester, | one who affects a dashing carelessness in his dress "high-reaching Buckingham," or Harry Hotspur, and deportment, wears good clothes in a very ill actually walked, and that Shakspeare and Milton fashion, and has generally a checked shirt, a sailor's familiarly trod even where we then tread; or the hat, or some other article of dress sufficiently differHigh street of Edinburgh-where the Leslie and ent from the ordinary costume of those around him the Seyton, the Gordon and the Douglas, were to render him an object of notoriety. Mark the easy wont foolishly and gallantly to stab and dirk each dignity of that swagger as he rolls along, staring other for the "crown o' the causeway." True, all impudently at all the women and frowning valiantly is now commonplace and familiar; the merchant at all the men, as if he expected every moment to be plods homeward with his umbrella under his arm, insulted, and was afraid his courage might not be instead of his rapier by his side. But great as the screwed up "to the sticking point." A sort of perchange is there from the past to the present, it has sonage not unlike Mike Lambourne in Kenilworth, still been gradual. Step by step have they toiled allowing for the modifications of the times. But lo! their way from barbarism to civilization. Here, it what comes next-dame nature's loveliest work, a has been as the shifting of the scenery in a play, woman; but, heaven and earth! how the mantuarather than sober reality. It is but as the other day maker has spoiled her! Why, what frippery have when the forests flourished where now "merchants we here? Silks and lace, ribands and gauze, feathmost do congregate," and the streamlet murmured ers, flowers, and flounces! Not but that these are where the gin-shop stands. The council-fires blazed all excellent things in their way, when judiciously and the sachems spoke to their young men where used; but to see them all clustered, as in the presnow the honourable Richard Riker and the honour-ent instance, on one woman at one time, is what the able the corporation hold "long talks" about small proverb states to be "too much of a good thing," or matters. The wigwam sent its tiny wreaths of smoke what the poet terms "wasteful and ridiculous exinto the clear air, where now the bank coffee-house cess.' Then look at those sleeves* in which her pours forth volumes of odoriferous steam to mingle arms are lost, and that acre of hat upon her head, with the masses of vapour that overhang the city with a sufficiency of wheat ears and flowers on it, like a cloud; and its tables groan with "all the del- were they real, to feed a family or stock a garden. icacies of the season" where the deer from the wood And see! as far as the eye can reach it rests on coland the fish from the stream, were cooked and eaten ours as varied and fantastical as the butterflies in without the aid of pepper and salt-two of the great- summer or the leaves in autumn, in which the dear est blessings of civilization. creatures have arrayed themselves. Oh, matrimoAnd not more different than the scenes were the ny, matrimony! thou art indeed becoming a luxury actors concerned in them. Step aside, good reader, in which the rich and opulent alone will be able to and mark them as they now pass along Broadway. indulge. Nine small children might be supported, The first is one but little known to Indian life- but to deck out one of Eve's daughters in this fashone who lives by the folly and roguery of the fools ion three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, is and rogues around him-a lawyer. He is clad in what nothing but a prize in the lottery or a profitasolemn black, as if that were ominous of the gloom ble bankruptcy is equal to. Still on they pass in which follows in his train. What would the Indian, throngs: the grave and thoughtful student, abstracted with his untaught natural sense of right and wrong, from all around, building up his day-dream of fame, think of this man's "quiddets, his quillets, his cases, fortune, and beauty, and then in love with the cunhis tenures, and his tricks ;" and of "his statutes, ning coinage of his own brain; and the rich old his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, merchant, not in love with any thing but still in rapand his recoveries?" Alas! the poor Indian has tures, for cotton has risen an eighth. On they pass, but too deeply felt his power and the power of his the whiskered Don, the sallow Italian, the bulky brethren in the modern "black art." They conjur- Englishman, and the spare Frenchman, all as eager ed away his pleasant haunts, "under the greenwood (as a professed moralist might say) in the pursuit of tree," his silver streams teeming with life, his beau- business and pleasure, as if enjoyment were perpettiful lakes and fair hunting-grounds, all "according to ual and life eternal; and all this where, but a little law," and left him a string of beads and a bottle of while ago, the wolf made his lair, and the savage fire-water, a bruised heart and a broken spirit in their his dwelling-place. Verily, as a profound German place. Here comes another product of the present philosopher acutely though cautiously observed-times, neither rare nor valuable, indigenous to Broad-"Let a man live long enough, and it is probable he way, and flourishing there in peculiar rankness; a will see many changes." modern Sir Fopling Flutter, of whom it may well be said with the poet,

"Nature disclaims the thing-a tailor made him!" Mark with what affected effeminacy the full-grown baby lounges along, and the air of listless indifference or slightly awakened surprise with which it is his pleasure to regard a fine woman; but what indeed, are all the women in the world to this caricature of manhood, in comparison with his own sweet self? Anon, another variety of the same genus appears, quite as contemptible, not so amusing, and a great deal more disagreeable. This is your ruffian-dandy;

WAVES.

The depth to which the sea is agitated, even in violent tempests, is not very considerable; at the depth of twenty feet below what is the level in a calm, the effect is very slight, and at thirty feet it would probably be altogether imperceptible. It may therefore seem difficult to account for the mountainous waves encountered by seamen; but it must be remembered, that the wind is constantly acting, and that one wave is raised on the surface of another, till the accumulation becomes prodigious.

✦ The reader will perceive this was written several years ago.

ST. PAUL'S CHURCH, NEW YORK. THIS is one of the finest edifices of the kind, in the United States. It is situated in Broadway, south of the City Hall, and opposite to Ann street; and, with the cemetery adjoining, occupies the whole of the square, fronting on Broadway, being four hundred feet by one hundred and eighty. The square is enclosed by a handsome iron railing. The other streets bounding the square are Vesey, Fulton, and Church, facing Broadway; with a portico of the Ionic order, consisting of four fluted pillars of brown stone, supporting a pediment, with a niche in the centre, containing a statue of St. Paul. Beneath the portico, and under a large window, is a beautiful marble monument, erected by Congress, to the memory of General Montgomery, who was killed at the storming of Quebec, in 1775.

trance-door two sentinels were always posted by day and night; two more at the first and second barri cades, which were grated, barred and chained; also at the rear door, and on the platform at the grated door at the foot of the second flight of steps, lead ing to the rooms and cells in the second and third stories. When a prisoner, escorted by soldiers, was led into the hall, the whole guard was paraded, and he was delivered over, with all formality, to Captain Cunningham or his deputy, and questioned as to his name, rank, size, age, &c., all of which were enter ed in a record-book. What with the bristling of arms, unbolting of bars and locks, clanking of enor mous iron chains, and a vestibule as dark as Erebus, the unfortunate might well shrink under this infernal sight and parade of tyrannical power, as he crossed the threshold of that door which possibly closed on The spire of this church is one of the noblest or- him for life. But it is not our wish to revive the naments of the city; and is, with the entire building, horrours attendant on our revolutionary war; gratejustly esteemed one of the best specimens of archi-ful to Divine Providence for its propitious issue, we tecture in the country. It rises from the west end would only remark to the existing and rising generof the house, to the height of two hundred and thirty-ation, that the independence of the United States, four feet. Above the tower, which is one hundred and the civil and religious privileges they now enjoy, feet high, rises a quadrangular section of Ionic order, were achieved and purchased by the blood and suf with appropriate columns, pilasters and pediments; ferings of their patriotick forefathers. May they the two next stories are octangular, of the Corin- guard and transmit the boon to their latest pos thian and composite orders, supported by columns at terity. the angles; the whole is crowned with a lofty spire and gilt vane. The church is nine-y feet by seventy, and was built in 1765. The interiour is finished in the Corinthian style, with columns supporting an arched ceiling; and the pulpit and altar are appropriate to the rest of the interiour.

[blocks in formation]

"The northeast chamber, turning to the left, on the second floor, was appropriated to officers, and characters of superiour rank and distinction, and was called Congress-hall. So closely were they packed, that when they lay down at night to rest, when their bones ached on the hard oak planks, and they wished to turn, it was altogether by word of command, "right-left," being so wedged and compact, as to form almost a solid mass of human bodies. In the daytime the packs and blankets of the prisoners were suspended around the walls, every precaution being used to keep the rooms ventilated, and the walls and floors clean, to prevent jail fever; and, as the provost was generally crowded with American prisoners, or British culprits of every description, it is really wonderful that infec tion never broke out within its walls.

"In this gloomy terrifick abode were incarcera ted at different periods many American officers and citizens of distinction, awaiting with sickening hope and tantalizing expectation the protracted period of their exchange and liberation. Could these dumb walls speak, what scenes of anguish, what tales of agonizing wo, might they disclose!

[graphic]

66

Among other characters, there were, at the same time, the famous Colonel Ethan Allen, and Judge Fell, of Bergen county, New Jersey. When Captain Cunningham entertained the young British officers, accustomed to command the provost guard, by din for bad provisions, and other embezzlements prac of curtailing the prisoners' rations, exchanging good tised on John Bull, the captain, his deputy, and in deed the commissaries generally, were enabled to ally terminated his dinners, the captain would order fare sumptuously. In the drunken orgies that ust the rebel prisoners to turn out and parade, for the is the damned rebel, Colonel Ethan Allen-that a amusement of his guests; pointing them out, 'This rebel judge, an Englishman,' &c., &c."

[graphic][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small]

THE

NEW YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

Astor, Lorax and Tilden

Foundations.

[graphic]

NEW YORK CITY RESERVOIR.

New York City Reservoir.

THIS building was erected in 1829, by the corporation of New York, for the purpose of supplying the city with water in cases of fire It stands in the Bowery, near thirteenth street, and two miles from the City Hall, on a surface fifty-seven feet above tide-level. The tank or cistern rests on a foundation of solid stone masonry, forming a circle of forty-four feet diameter and thirty feet high. The tank itself, formed of cast-iron plates united by screws and cement, is forty-two feet diameter by twenty feet, six inches, in height, and holds twentyfive hundred hogsheads of water. The whole building rises seventy-five feet above the ground to the top of the tank and is surmounted by a cupola, making in all one hundred feet. It forms a very picturesque object to boats passing through both the East and North rivers.

After breaking ground to obtain water, and penetrating through the earth to the distance of eleven feet, the workmen employed in digging the well of the reservoir, came to the bed of rock forming the base of the city, and extending, in all probability, at various depths, to Blackwell's island, and under the waters of the Hudson. Through this rock they bored a well one hundred and thirteen feet in depth by seventeen feet in diameter, with two shafts extending in opposite directions, east and west, seventyfive feet each way, and another branch from the western shaft northerly twenty-two feet. The well is calculated to furnish eight hogsheads of water an hour, which is raised into the tank by a steam-engine of fifteen-horse power.

Attached to the bottom of the cistern, is a valve, communicating with a twenty-four-inch pipe, which conveys the water to the main branches in thirteenth street, through which it is conducted to the different

sections of the city. All the lines of pipe are furnished with hydrants for discharging the water, at intervais of ten or twenty rods, with stop-cocks, &c. Each hydrant will supply two engines with water, the force of which is so great, that in case of emergency, it can be thrown to any necessary height by attaching the apparatus of the hydrants to the engine leaders.

The water obtained here is soft and of the most salubrious quality imaginable, as it filters through beds of rock, sparkling, in its subterraneous course, with the utmost brilliancy.

THE MOTHER.

THE cold wind swept the mountain height,
And pathless was the dreary wild,
And 'mid the cheerless hours of night

A mother wander'd with her child-
As through the drifting snow she press'd,
The babe was sleeping on her breast.

And colder yet the winds did blow,

And darker hours of night came on, And deeper grew the drifts of snow

Her limbs were chill'd-her strength was gone.
Oh God! she cried, in accents wild,
If I must perish, save my child.

She stripp'd her mantle from her breast,
And bared her bosom to the storm,
And round the child she wrapp'd the vest,
And smiled to think the babe was warm;
With one cold kiss, one tear she shed,
And sank upon a snowy bed.

At dawn, a traveller pass'd by,

And saw her 'neath a snowy veil-
The frost of death was on her eye,

Her cheek was cold and hard and pale;
He moved the robe from off the child;
It lived-look'd up-and sweetly smiled.

« PreviousContinue »