There was something very similar and quite as ridiculous in the affair at Sackett’s harbour. Our forces advancing would have cut off some hundreds of the American militia, who were really retreating, but by a road which led in such a direction as for a time to make the English commandant suppose that they were intending to take him in flank. This made him imagine that they must be advancing in large numbers, when, the fact was, they were running away from his superior force. He made a retreat; upon ascertaining which, the Americans turned back and followed him, harassing his rear.

  I was told, at Baltimore, that had the English advanced, the American militia was quite ready to run away, not having the idea of opposing themselves to trained soldiers. It really was very absurd; but in many instances during the war, which have come to my knowledge, it was exactly this,— “If you don’t run, I will; but if you will, I won’t!”

  The name given by the French to Vermont, designates the features of the country, which is composed of small mountains, covered with verdure to their summits; but the land is by no means good.

  At the bottoms, on the banks of the rivers, the alluvial soil is rich, and, generally speaking, the land in this State admits of cultivation about half-way up the mountains; after which, it is fit for nothing but sheep-walks, or to grow small timber upon. I have travelled much in the Eastern States, and have been surprised to find how very small a portion of all of them is under cultivation, considering how long they have been settled; nor will there be more of the land taken up, I presume, for a long period; that is to say, not until the West is so over-peopled that a reflux is compelled to fall back into the Eastern States, and the crowded masses, like the Gulf-stream, find vent to the northward and eastward.

  Set off by coach, long before day-light. There is something very gratifying when once you are up, in finding yourself up before the sun; you can repeat to yourself, “How doth the little busy bee,” with such satisfaction. Some few stars still twinkled in the sky, winking like the eyelids of tired sentinels, but soon they were relieved, one after another, by the light of morning.

  It was still dark when we started, and off we went, up hill and down hill — short steep pitches, as they term them here — at a furious rate. There was no level ground; it was all undulating, and very trying to the springs. But an American driver stops at nothing; he will flog away with six horses in hand; and it is wonderful how few accidents happen: but it is very fatiguing, and one hundred miles of American travelling by stage, is equal to four hundred in England.

  There is much amusement to be extracted from the drivers of these stages, if you will take your seat with them on the front, which few Americans do, as they prefer the inside. One of the drivers, soon after we had changed our team, called out to the off-leader, as he flanked her with his whip. “Go along, you no-tongued crittur!”

  “Why no-tongued?” enquired I.

  “Well, I reckon she has no tongue, having bitten it off herself, I was going to say — but it wasn’t exactly that, neither.”

  “How was it, then?”

  “Well now, the fact is, that she is awful ugly,” (ill-tempered); “she bites like a badger, and kicks up as high as the church-steeple. She’s an almighty crittur to handle. I was trying to hitch her under-jaw like, with the halter, but she worretted so, that I could only hitch her tongue: she ran back, the end of the halter was fast to the ring, and so she left her tongue in the hitch — that’s a fact!”

  “I wonder it did not kill her; didn’t she bleed very much? How does she contrive to eat her corn?”

  “Well, now, she bled pretty considerable — but not to speak off. I did keep her one day in the stable, because I thought she might feel queer; since that she has worked in the team every day; and she’ll eat her peck of corn with any horse in the stable. But her tongue is out, that’s certain — so she’ll tell no more lies!”

  Not the least doubting my friend’s veracity I, nevertheless, took an opportunity, when we changed, of ascertaining the fact; and her tongue was half of it out, that is the fact.

  When we stopped, we had to shift the luggage to another coach. The driver, who was a slight man, was, for some time, looking rather puzzled at the trunks which lay on the road, and which he had to put on the coach: he tried to lift one of the largest, let it down again, and then beckoned to me: —

  “I say, captain, them four large trunks be rather overmuch for me; but I guess you can master them, so just lift them up on the hind board for me.”

  I complied; and as I had to lift them as high as my head, they required all my strength.

  “Thank ye, captain; don’t trouble yourself any more, the rest be all right, and I can manage them myself.”

  The Americans never refuse to assist each other in such difficulties as this. In a young country they must assist each other, if they wish to be assisted themselves — and there always will be a mutual dependence. If a man is in a fix in America, every one stops to assist him, and expects the same for himself.

  Bellows Falls, a beautiful, romantic spot on the Connecticut River, which separates the States of New Hampshire and Vermont. The masses of rocks through which the river forces its way at the Falls, are very grand and imposing; and the surrounding hills, rich with the autumnal tints, rivet the eye. On these masses of rocks are many faces, cut out by the tribe of Pequod Indians, who formerly used to fish in their waters. Being informed that there was to be a militia muster, I resolved to attend it.

  The militia service is not in good odour with the Americans just now. Formerly, when they did try to do as well as they could, the scene was absurd enough; but now they do all they can to make it ridiculous. In this muster there were three or four companies, well equipped; but the major part of the men were what they call here flood-wood, that is, of all sizes and heights — a term suggested by the pieces of wood borne down by the freshets of the river, and which are of all sorts, sizes, and lengths. But not only were the men of all sorts and sizes, but the uniforms also, some of which were the most extraordinary I ever beheld, and not unlike the calico dresses worn by the tumblers and vaulters at an English fair. As for the exercise, they either did not, or would not, know any thing about it; indeed, as they are now mustered but once a year, it cannot be expected that they should; but as they faced every way, and made mistakes on purpose, it is evident, from their consistent pertinacity in being wrong, that they did know something. When they marched off single file, quick time, they were one half of them dancing in and out of the ranks to the lively tune which was played — the only instance I saw of their keeping time. But the most amusing part of the ceremony was the speech made by the brigade major, whose patience had certainly been tried, and who wished to impress his countrymen with the importance of the militia. He ordered them to form a hollow square. They formed a circle, proving that if they could not square the circle, at all events they could circle the square, which is coming very near to it. The major found himself, on his white horse, in an arena about as large as that in which Mr Ducrow performs at Astley’s. He then commenced a sort of perambulating equestrian speech, riding round and round the circle, with his cocked hat in his hand. As the arena was large, and he constantly turned his head as he spoke to those nearest to him in the circle, it was only when he came to within a few yards of you, that you could distinguish what he was saying; and of course the auditors at the other point were in the same predicament. However, he divided his speech out in portions very equally, and those which came to my share were as follows:

  “Yes, gentlemen — the president, senate, and house of representatives, and all others ... you militia, the bones and muscle of the land, and by whom ... Eagle of America shall ruffle her wings, will ever dart ... those days so glorious, when our gallant forefathers ... terrible effect of the use of ardent spirits, and shewing ... Temperance societies, the full benefits of which, I am ... Star-spangled banner, ever victorious, blazing like....”

  The last word I heard was glory; but his audience being very impatient for their dinner, cried out loudly for it — preferring it to the mouthfuls of eloquence which fell to their share, but did not stay their stomach. Altogether it was a scene of much fun and good-humour.

  Stopped at the pretty village of Charlestown, celebrated for the defence it made during the French war. There is here, running by the river side, a turnpike road, which gave great offence to the American citizens of this State: they declared that to pay toll was monarchical, as they always assert every thing to be which taxes their pockets. So, one fine night, they assembled with a hawser and a team or two of horses, made the hawser fast to the house at the gate, dragged it down to the river, and sent it floating down the stream, with the gate and board of tolls in company with it.

  Progressing in the stage, I had a very amusing specimen of the ruling passion of the country — the spirit of barter, which is communicated to the females, as well as to the boys. I will stop for a moment, however, to say, that I heard of an American, who had two sons, and he declared that they were so clever at barter, that he locked them both up together in a room, without a cent in their pockets, and that before they had swopped for an hour, they had each gained two dollars a piece. But now for my fellow-passengers — both young, both good-looking, and both ladies, and evidently were total strangers to each other. One had a pretty pink silk bonnet, very fine for travelling; the other, an indifferent plush one. The young lady in the plush, eyed the pink bonnet for some time: at last Plush observed in a drawling half-indifferent way:

  “That’s rather a pretty bonnet of your’s, miss.”

  “Why yes, I calculate it’s rather smart,” replied Pink.

  After a pause and closer survey.— “You wouldn’t have any objection to part with it, miss?”

  “Well now, I don’t know but I might; I have worn it but three days, I reckon.”

  “Oh, my! I should have reckoned that you carried it longer — perhaps it rained on them three days.”

  “I’ve a notion it didn’t rain, not one. — It’s not the only bonnet I have, miss.”

  “Well now, I should not mind an exchange, and paying you the balance.”

  “That’s an awful thing that you have on, miss!”

  “I rather think not, but that’s as may be. — Come, miss, what will you take?”

  “Why I don’t know, — what will you give?”

  “I reckon you’ll know best when you answer my question.”

  “Well then, I shouldn’t like less than five dollars.”

  “Five dollars and my bonnet! I reckon two would be nearer the mark — but it’s of no consequence.”

  “None in the least, miss, only I know the value of my bonnet. — We’ll say no more about it.”

  “Just so, miss.”

  A pause and silence for half a minute, when Miss Plush, looks out of the window, and says, as if talking to herself, “I shouldn’t mind giving four dollars, but no more.” She then fell back in her seat, when Miss Pink, put her head out of the window, and said:— “I shouldn’t refuse four dollars after all, if it was offered,” and then she fell back to her former position.

  “Did you think of taking four dollars, miss?”

  “Well! I don’t care, I’ve plenty of bonnets at home.”

  “Well,” replied Plush, taking out her purse, and offering her the money.

  “What bank is this, miss?”

  “Oh, all’s right there, Safety Fund, I calculate.”

  The two ladies exchange bonnets, and Pink pockets the balance.

  I may here just as well mention the custom of whittling, which is so common in the Eastern States. It is a habit, arising from the natural restlessness of the American when he is not employed, of cutting a piece of stick, or any thing else, with his knife. Some are so wedded to it from long custom, that if they have not a piece of stick to cut, they will whittle the backs of the chairs, or any thing within their reach. A yankee shewn into a room to await the arrival of another, has been known to whittle away nearly the whole of the mantle-piece. Lawyers in court whittle away at the table before them; and judges will cut through their own bench. In some courts, they put sticks before noted whittlers to save the furniture. The Down-Easters, as the yankees are termed generally, whittle when they are making a bargain, as it fills up the pauses, gives them time for reflection, and moreover, prevents any examination of the countenance — for in bargaining, like in the game of brag, the countenance is carefully watched, as an index to the wishes. I was once witness to a bargain made between two respectable yankees, who wished to agree about a farm, and in which whittling was resorted to.

  They sat down on a log of wood, about, three or four feet apart from each other, with their faces turned opposite ways — that is, one had his legs on one side of the log with his face to the East, and the other his legs on the other side with his face to the West. One had a piece of soft wood, and was sawing it with his penknife; the other had an unbarked hiccory stick which he was peeling for a walking-stick. The reader will perceive a strong analogy between this bargain and that in the stage between the two ladies.

  “Well, good morning — and about this farm?”

  “I don’t know; what will you take?”

  “What will you give?”

  Silence, and whittle away.

  “Well, I should think two thousand dollars, a heap of money for this farm.”

  “I’ve a notion it will never go for three thousand, any how.”

  “There’s a fine farm, and cheaper, on the North side.”

  “But where’s the sun to ripen the corn?”

  “Sun shines on all alike.”

  “Not exactly through a Vermont hill, I reckon. The driver offered me as much as I say, if I recollect right.”

  “Money not always to be depended upon. Money not always forthcoming!”

  “I reckon, I shall make an elegant ‘backy stopper of this piece of sycamore.”

  Silence for a few moments. Knives hard at work.

  “I’ve a notion this is as pretty a hiccory stick as ever came out of a wood.”

  “I shouldn’t mind two thousand five hundred dollars, and time given.”

  “It couldn’t be more than six months then, if it goes at that price.”

  (Pause.)

  “Well, that might suit me.”

  “What do you say, then?”

  “Suppose it must be so.”

  “It’s a bargain then,” rising up; “come let’s liquor on it.”

  Chapter Nineteen.

  The farmers on the banks of the Connecticut river are the richest in the Eastern States. The majestic growth of the timber certified that the soil is generally good, although the crops were off the ground. They grow here a large quantity of what is called the broom corn: the stalk and leaves are similar to the maize or Indian corn, but, instead of the ear, it throws out, at top and on the sides, spiky plumes on which seed is carried. These plumes are cut off, and furnish the brooms and whisks of the country; it is said to be a very profitable crop. At Brattleboro’ we stopped at an inn kept by one of the State representatives, and, as may be supposed, had very bad fare in consequence, the man being above his business. We changed horses at Bloody Brook, so termed in consequence of a massacre of the settlers by the Indians. But there are twenty Bloody Brooks in America, all records of similar catastrophes.

  Whether the Blue laws of Connecticut are supposed to be still in force I know not, but I could not discover that they had ever been repealed. At present there is no theatre in Connecticut, nor does anybody venture to propose one. The proprietors of one of the equestrian studs made their appearance at the confines of the State, and intimated that they wished to perform, but were given to understand that their horses would be confiscated if they entered the State. The consequence is that Connecticut is the dullest, most disagreeable State in the Union; and, if I am to believe the Americans themselves, so far from the morals of the community being kept uncontaminated by this rigour, the very reverse is the case — especially as respects the college students, who are in the secret practice of more vice than is to be found in any other establishment of the kind in the Union. But even if I had not been so informed by creditable people, I should have decided in my own mind that such was the case. Human nature is everywhere the same.

  It may be interesting to make a few extracts from a copy of the records and of the Blue laws which I have in my possession, as it will show that if these laws were still in force how hard they would now bear upon the American community. In the extracts from the records which follow I have altered a word or two, so as to render them fitter for perusal, but the sense remains the same:

  “(13.) If any childe or children above sixteene yeares old, and of suffitient understanding, shall curse or smite their naturall father or mother, hee or they shall bee put to death; unless it can be sufficiently testified that the parents have been very unchristianly negligent in the education of such children, or so provoke them by extreme and cruell correction that they have been forced thereunto to preserve themselves from death, maiming. — Exo., xxi., 17. Levit., xx. Ex., xxi., 15.

  “(14.) If any man have a stubborne and rebellious sonne of sufficient yeares and understanding, viz., sixteene yeares of age, which will not obey the voice of his father or the voice of his mother, and that when they have chastened him will not hearken unto them, then may his father and mother, being his naturall parents, lay hold on him, and bring him to the magistrates assembled in courte, and testifie unto them that their sonne is stubborne and rebellious, and will not obey theire voice and chastisement, but lives in sundry notorious crimes — such a sonne shall bee put to death. — Deut., xxi, 20, 21.