1826. LAND IN SIGHT. 313 I expected to see it submerged every minute; but she was brought round very cleverly, and I was glad to hurry down to my berth again. We had been twenty-five days at sea, when, on the 27th of September, the cry of "land in sight" was repeated by numerous voices, and produced a sensation through the ship that, strange as it may seem, I did not share. I felt pleasure in the delight and animation that brightened and laughed in every countenance, and the land itself, the breaking up of the level line of the horizon, the dim blue hill, towards which every eye was strained, was, as if by sympathy, an object of interest to me; but the "home" which my shipmates were approaching I felt more distant from me than before. Every one was soon actively engaged in arranging his trunks and changing his ship dress for gayer apparel. One gentleman, who during the voyage had skipped about the deck in a smart frock, emerged from his cabin, to my great surprise, in the single breast and upright collar of a Quaker's drab suit. The afternoon was beautiful; the sun was setting in mild, subdued splendour as we neared the lighthouse. The black fish were tumbling about around the ship; the land gave distinctly, as we advanced, the colours of the soil and foliage. The pilot being taken on board, all crowded around him, as if he had been an admiral come to hoist his flag over us. He was an old Dutch skipper, and had a habit of spitting on his hands before every order he gave, as if the effort was a manual exertion. At his command the man was slung to heave the lead. The day was now fast closing, and the land lay in deep shadow around, from which a light looked out now and then from some house on the shore like a friend we had missed for many a day. The vessel moved beautifully through the sea; the sun went down, and in the deep obscurity of the twilight I could sit apart and meditate upon the various states of mind around me, and my own absence from my native land. The melodious cry of the seaman as he heaved the lead-"Quarter less nine-a ha' less seven"-so musical, so melancholy, increased the dejection I felt. I sat listening to his chant until we passed the Narrows, a channel which the meeting points of the shore reduced to about half-amile in breadth, and from which the bay spreads open in grandeur and beauty. The dancing lights of the city, which multiplied as we approached, the steamboats, like fireworks on the waters, pouring from their chimneys streams of fiery sparks, the shouts and questionings as we passed the boats and shipping in the East River, made a scene, strange, picturesque, and interesting, and yet to us alone mournful. 1826. FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE U.S. 315 CHAPTER XXI. 1826.-T. A. Emmett-First appearance in Virginius at the Park Theatre, New York-Society in New York-Visits to public buildings, &c.—The Falls of the Passaic-Moving houses-Conway acting in New York-Forrest -Boston-Baltimore-Charles Carroll-New Year customs in New York. WHEN alongside of the quay, Captain Lang went up to the Park Place Hotel to bespeak rooms for us, and, strange as it may seem, I was glad when his messenger returned to say we could not be accommodated before the next day my reluctance to go on shore was so great, and I seemed to hold on to the good ship, as if with the feeling that there was something of England still about it. The next morning a very neat carriage, that might have put to shame the hackney-coaches of London, came to take us to our new residence, a well-furnished and comfortable suite in an hotel looking on the park, an open space of some extent planted with trees, having the City Hall, the Park Theatre, and some good houses on the different sides of it. Simpson, the partner of Price, and manager of the Park Theatre, lost no time in calling on me, and urging the expediency of an early public appearance; it was settled for Monday, October the 2nd, in the character of Virginius. The objects I had in view in coming to the United States were not confined to the single one of making money. The government of the country, its society, the manners of its citizens, and its scenes of grandeur and beauty, so unlike what we had left behind in our own dear land, had claims on my curiosity and interest. I had besides resolved to spare no pains in the cultivation of my art, and from noticing in other actors, as in myself, the injurious effect of grasping at gain by playing every night in the week, leaving no time for meditation and study, I laid it down as a rule to limit my performances to three or at most four nights in each week, and steadily to keep a watch on my improvement. It was my practice never to undervalue my audiences; and, though I often found them in America less sensitive and more phlegmatic than those at home, I wrestled with the tendency to yield to their apparent want of sympathy, and by acting determinedly to the character I had to represent, my hearers gradually kindled into excitement. The mornings of my two first days were given to rehearsals of my plays. The afternoons were occupied with the delivery of my letters of introduction. One of these was of peculiar interest, addressed by Sheil to Thomas Addis Emmett, who after his participation in Irish rebellion now stood at the head of the New York bar. In our many acquaintances we found very ready and agreeable cicerones, eager to point out what was remarkable in the city and its institutions, for which a moderate share of admiration would have sounded dull and disappointing to American ears, as you are expected in this country to praise without stint; and it was a complaint of Basil Hall's, who arrived shortly after us, that his friends would not wait for his deliberate judgment, but exacted unqualified commendation for whatever they might draw his attention to. There was much to admire and interest in the novel scenes presented to us; but to note a description of the streets and buildings as they appeared to us in 1826, when the line of Broadway had its utmost limit in Canal Street, would be to give a picture that few now living would recognise, so extensive, so surprising have been its alterations and improvements. On my appearance at the Park theatre, a spacious and handsome building, the house was crowded, and my reception all I could desire. The only occurrence to remind my wife and sister, who occupied a private box, that they were not in an English theatre was the rough treatment of a black woman, who by some mistake had got into the pit, and for a length of time was hustled about from one to another amidst shouts of laughter from the white spectators, until at last she got into a corner, and, nestling down there, was suffered to remain unmolested during the remainder of the evening. No coloured person was at that time allowed to sit 1826. NEW YORK MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. 317 either in the boxes or pit. My performances being limited to the repetition of the characters in which I had gained reputation at home, gave occasion to little remark. The houses were nightly crowded, my emoluments were most satisfactory, and thus three weeks passed away agreeably enough. The hospitality of our many friends gave us ample opportunity of gaining intimate knowledge of the society of New York, dinners and evening-parties following in quick succession. Customs have much changed since then, but at the time of which I write a stranger going to a dinner-party would probably find the street door open, without a servant to answer either knocker or bell; or if one did come to open the door, he would leave the visitor to make his way, unheralded and unannounced, to the reception-room. I have more than once suffered great embarrassment in entering a room full of people whom I did not know, and have been recognised as a guest by the courtesy of host and hostess from being the only stranger present. The round of introduction that follows your recognition, and which you are then condemned to undergo, every individual shaking your hand, merely in conformity with his own notions of good-breeding, and not caring one pin for you, is something of an annoyance. But I found the entertainment almost always unexceptionable; their tables are usually arranged with good taste and elegance; freedom and cheerfulness give life to their conversation, which is generally interesting and amusing. The scarcity of servants is a common inconvenience, and where one is almost as much an incumbrance as a help one is not surprised that families dispense with all the hands, as in-door residents, not absolutely necessary. Coffee is introduced at the dinner-table, it not being customary to return to the drawing-room to partake it with the women (I am writing of the year 1826). When the ladies rise from table they vanish," and no man sees them more." This is odious, and a remnant of barbarism that I am glad to say is losing part of its detestable character in the growing disuse of cigars with wine. The indefatigable attention of our many friends did not allow my leisure days to be idle ones. They were diligently and agreeably employed in visiting whatever was worthy of notice in or about the city. The principal public building at that time |