Travels Through North America, During the Years 1825 and 1826. v. 1-2

In front of the state house, whose lower floor is used as a court room, we saw a great assemblage of people; we heard it was the election of the common council. This state house is remarkable in an historical point of view, as being the place where the Declaration of Independence was signed, on the 4th of July, 1776, and in which the first Congress assembled, until its removal to Washington City. From the public houses in the vicinity, flags were displayed, to give notice what political party assembled there; hand-bills were sent all over town into the houses, to invite votes. From the tenor of these bills one might have concluded that the city was in great danger. The election, however, to our exceeding astonishment, passed over very peaceably.18

The Bank of the United States, which is situated in Chesnut street, is the handsomest building that I have yet beheld in this country; it is built of white marble, after the model of the Parthenon at Athens; its entrance is decorated by eight Doric columns, and large broad steps. White marble is very common here; the steps of most houses are made of it. The railings are generally of iron with bright brass knobs; even on the scrapers at the doors I observed these bright brass knobs. The private houses are generally built of brick, the kitchens, &c. are commonly in the cellar. I observed here a very good contrivance, which I also remarked in various cities of the United States, that there are openings through the foot-pavement, covered by a locked iron grate, which serves to throw wood, coal, &c. in the cellar, so that they need not be carried through the houses.

I visited several bookstores; the store of Messrs. Carey, Lea & Carey appeared to be well assorted; Tanner’s is the best mapstore.

The Philadelphia Museum was commenced by an artist, Charles Willson Peale, and was subsequently incorporated as a joint stock company. The most remarkable curiosity it contains is undoubtedly the famous skeleton of the mastodon, which has rendered this museum so celebrated. The height of the shoulders is eleven feet; the length of the animal, including the stooping of the back, from the point of the head to the tail, measures thirty-one feet, but in a straight line seventeen and a half feet; its two large tusks are ten feet seven inches long; one of the back teeth, – for there are no front teeth, – measures eighteen and a half inches in circumference, and weighs four pounds ten ounces. The whole skeleton weighs about one thousand pounds. I was somewhat astonished that the knee of the fore-foot bends backwards and not forwards.19 This skeleton was found in a swamp in the state of New York, and there is a painting representing the colossal machine and building, by which the skeleton was removed from the swamp. For the sake of contrast, they have put the skeleton of an elephant next the mastodon. Under its foot is the skeleton of a mouse.

The academy of fine arts is a collection of paintings and statues. The best works which we saw belong to Count Survilliers. Among these was the count’s own portrait, robed as king of Spain, the portrait of his lady, and his two daughters, while yet children, all painted by Gérard of Paris. There were four busts, one of Madame Mère, the queen of Naples, Madame Murat, the princess Borghese, and the empress Marie Louise; and last of all a statue, representing the infant king of Rome, all by Canova. Amongst other paintings I observed several from the Flemish school, very few Italian, but some very fine pieces by Granet, which represented the interior of an Italian cloister. Two large paintings, one representing the children of Niobe by Rehberg, and the other the raising from the dead by touching the bones of the prophet Elisha, by the American painter Allston; both have merit, but I was neither pleased with the colouring nor execution. The statues are mostly casts, copies of the most famous antiquities. I observed, however, amongst them, the Venus of Canova.

In wandering through the streets I was struck with a building having a dome similar to the Roman pantheon; it was a Baptist chapel. I accordingly entered; the interior arrangement was very simple, and offered nothing remarkable. In the midst of the chapel is the baptismal font for baptising grown persons; it is a marble bath, something in the manner of the bath in the palace of Weimar. While speaking on this subject, I will notice the various sects that have churches in this city. 1st, Catholics; 2d, Protestant Episcopal; 3d, Presbyterian; 4th, Scotch Presbyterian; 5th, Covenanters, or Reformed Presbyterians; 6th, Baptist; 7th, the Methodist; most of the coloured people belong to the latter sect; 8th, the Friends or Quakers; 9th, the Free Quakers; 10th, German Lutheran; 11th, German Reformed; 12th, Dutch Reformed; 13th, Universalists; 14th, Swedenborgians; 15th, Moravians, or United Brethren; 16th, Swedish Lutheran; 17th, Mount Zion; 18th, Menonists; 19th, Bible Christians; 20th, Mariners Church; 21st, Unitarians; and 22d, Israelites; and all these sects live peaceably in the vicinity of each other.

A merchant, Mr. Halbach, to whom I was introduced, took a walk with me to two gardens adjoining the city. One of these belongs to a rich merchant, Mr. Pratt, and is situated upon a rocky peninsula, formed by the Schuylkill, immediately above the water-works. The soil consists mostly of quartz and clay. The owner seldom comes there, and this is easy to be perceived, for instead of handsome grass-plots you see potatoes and turnips planted in the garden. The trees, however, are very handsome, mostly chesnut, and some hickory. I also observed particularly two large and strong tulip trees; the circumference of one was fifteen feet. In the hot-houses was a fine collection of orange trees, and a handsome collection of exotic plants, some of the order Euphorbia from South America; also a few palm trees. The gardener, an Englishman by birth, seemed to be well acquainted with his plants. Through a hydraulic machine the water is brought up from the river into several basins, and thence forced into the hot-houses. There was also in the garden a mineral spring of a ferruginous quality. From several spots in the garden there are fine views of the Schuylkill, whose banks, covered with trees, now in the fall of the year, have a striking and pleasant effect from the various hues of the foliage. The other garden, called Woodlands, belonged to the Hamilton family. The road led us through the village of Mantua, which altogether consists of country-seats, and where Mr. Halbach also has his country residence. Woodlands has more the appearance of an English park than Mr. Pratt’s country-seat; the dwelling house is large, and provided with two balconies, from both of which there is a very fine view, especially of the Schuylkill and floating bridge. Inside of the dwelling there is a handsome collection of pictures; several of them are of the Dutch school. What particularly struck me was a female figure, in entire dishabelle, laying on her back, with half-lifted eyes expressive of exquisite pleasure. There were also orange trees and hot-houses, superintended by a French gardener.

The navy-yard, which I visited with Mr. Tromp, was shown us by a lieutenant of the navy and major Miller of the marines; at the same time I became acquainted with the naval architect, Mr. Humphreys, who is considered one of the most skilful in his department in the United States. Three years ago he visited England and its dock-yards by order of the government. This navy-yard is not very large, for although ships are built here, yet they do not leave the yard perfectly equipped, as the Delaware is too shallow for completely armed ships of the line. On the stocks there was a ship of the line and a frigate yet incomplete, which, however, could be made ready for sea in a short time. The former is to carry one hundred and forty guns, and is said to be the largest vessel ever built. The frigate was of sixty-four guns. Each vessel had an elliptic stern, and was under cover. The house which covered the ship of the line is so large that I counted on one side one hundred and forty windows. Between the two houses the keel of a sloop of war is to be laid.20 There was no man-of-war here in actual service, but a small steam-brig in ordinary, called the Sea Gull, which had returned a few months ago from the West Indies, where she had been cruising after the pirates; she was now condemned as unseaworthy, and used as a receiving ship. Philadelphia is inhabited by many Germans and descendants of Germans; some respectable people among them have formed themselves into a German society, which has rendered great services, particularly to the unfortunate Germans who arrived here some years ago in great numbers. When those gentlemen heard of my arrival, they invited me to a dinner, given in honour of me. It took place on the 15th October, in the Masonic Hall, a large building, erected by the freemasons of this place, whose basement story contains a very handsome hall, which serves for public entertainments. The table was set for seventy persons; every thing was splendid.

Before dinner I was introduced to all the guests present; the descendants of Germans had almost forgotten their mother tongue; some of them were lawyers, some merchants, and some mechanics. At the dessert, several toasts were drank in honour of America and Germany, and also in honour of me; I of course thanked them in a short speech. Our waiters were blacks; even the music was performed by blacks, because white musicians will never perform at public entertainments. After every toast the music struck up; but our virtuosi were only acquainted with two German pieces. After drinking my health, they played “a dish and a song,” &c; and after the toast was given of “the German Athens,” they played “Oh thou dear Augustin,” &c. After the regular toasts by the president, Mr. Wampole, were finished, volunteer toasts were drank, ad infinitum. I soon retired to call upon Mr. Walsh, to whom I was introduced by letter.

At Mr. Walsh’s I found a numerous assembly, mostly of scientific and literary gentlemen. This assembly is called “Wistar Party;” it is a small learned circle which owes its existence to a Quaker physician, Dr. Wistar, who assembled all the literati and public characters of Philadelphia at his house, every Saturday evening, where all well-recommended foreigners were introduced. After his death, the society was continued by his friends, under the above title, with this difference, that they now assemble alternately at the houses of the members. The conversation generally relates to literary and scientific topics. I unexpectedly met Mr. E. Livingston in this assembly; I was also introduced to the mayor of the city, Mr. Watson, as well as most of the gentlemen present, whose interesting conversation afforded me much entertainment.

Mr. Shoemaker accompanied us to a Quaker meeting. The Quakers, as is well known, have no parsons, but sit quietly assembled until the spirit moves some one. The individual thus excited, then preaches, ad libitum, whether male or female. The meeting was very quiet when we entered, and remained quiet for more than an hour; the spirit moved no one; at last this fatiguing sitting terminated, and we went home unedified. The church, or rather the meeting-house, is very simple, without the least ornament; the whole hall is filled with benches, and on an elevated form sit the elders of both sexes, with those who are in the habit of preaching.

A Quaker, Mr. Vaux, is at the head of several public institutions in Philadelphia. I was introduced to him by Mr. Eddy: he received me kindly, although using the appellation “thou,”21 and promised to show me these institutions. The first objects we saw in his house, were paintings and copperplates referring to the first settlement of the Quakers in this state, and a model of a monument which is intended to be erected to the memory of William Penn. The model represented an obelisk, and was made of part of the elm tree under which this great benefactor of mankind concluded his treaty with the Indians.22 After that we drove to the new penitentiary, a prison which was built near the water-works.

Efforts have been made to abolish capital punishment in Pennsylvania, and to substitute solitary confinement, which hitherto has only been occasionally resorted to in the prisons, for offences committed there; it is even intended to inflict this punishment for life. It is also wished to separate prisoners condemned to hard labour, to give them their tasks in separate cells. For this purpose, a large square yard has been walled in, each side of which is six hundred and fifty feet long. This yard has but one entrance, over which is erected a Gothic building, to accommodate the officers, offices, watchrooms, and hospital wards. The portal has very much the appearance and strength of the gate of a fortification. In the middle of this yard is a round tower, which is intended for the watchmen, and from this central point, six wings run in an eccentric direction, containing the cells. Each wing consists of a vaulted corridor, which runs from one end of the wing to the other; on both sides of each of the six corridors are nineteen cells, whose entrance is from the outside. There is an opening in every cell, leading into the vaulted corridor, merely large enough to admit provisions; this aperture has a small iron door attached to it, only to be opened from the corridor. To every cell there is a yard, sixteen feet long and seven feet broad, surrounded by a wall twenty feet high: in this yard leading to the cell, the prisoner has the liberty of walking, provided the prisoners in the next cells are locked up. The cell itself is eight feet long and five feet broad, its entrance is low and small, and secured by a door and grate. The floor of the cell is of boards, the roof an arch which inclines outwardly, that the rain may run from it: a patent glass gives light to the prisoner. There are small apertures in the walls, in order to admit a current of air, and others to admit heated air during winter. Every cell has a water-closet, which is connected with the principal pipe, under the corridor, throughout all the length of the wings. They are not yet quite decided in what manner the prisoner is to sleep, whether in a bedstead or on a hammock.

I do not now wish to enter upon the question whether it is advisable to abolish capital punishment altogether or not, but I maintain that this solitary confinement, in which the prisoner is prohibited from all human converse, without work, exercise, and almost without fresh air, is even worse than punishment by death. From want of exercise they will certainly become sickly; from the want of work they will become unaccustomed to labour, and perhaps lose what skill they may have possessed heretofore in their trades, so that when restored to the world, they will be useless for any kind of business, and merely drag out a miserable existence. No book is allowed them but the bible. It appears therefore to me perfectly possible, that this insulation of the prisoner will be injurious to his mind, and drive him to fanaticism, enthusiasm, and even derangement. When Mr. Vaux asked my opinion of this prison, I could not refrain from answering him that it reminded me of the Spanish inquisition, as described by Llorente. Mr. Vaux answered that it is only an experiment to ascertain whether capital punishment can be abolished; but notwithstanding this philanthropic view, the experiment appears to me to be an expensive one, because the building has already cost three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and the state of Pennsylvania will have to expend annually for its support, an immense sum. The first great object of a government ought to be to provide for the welfare of its good citizens, and not to oppress them with taxes; on the contrary, to relieve them as much as possible, as it is hard for the good citizens to have to maintain vagabonds, for the sake of deterring others by example, or to render convicts harmless. In this view it should be the object of the government to arrange the prisons so that convicts can maintain themselves. When once this is realized, then it is likewise easier to improve their moral principles. Continued employment would answer both purposes. If it be possible that the prisoner can earn a little surplus money, in order that when he returns to society he may be in possession of a small sum for his pressing necessities, I believe it would be much better than any philanthropic experiment.23

The county jail contains prisoners who are waiting for trial; they are, however, seldom confined longer than one month before they receive sentence. The house consists of a principal building and two wings; the one for males, the other for females. In the centre building are the offices, dwellings of the keepers and watch, as well as the infirmary, where the patients have good bedding, and are carefully nursed. In the wings are long corridors, with rooms on each side, which are closed during the night with iron doors. About eight prisoners sleep in one room, they sleep on the floor, and have only two blankets, to sleep upon and cover themselves. The floor is of boards, and I was delighted at the great cleanliness prevailing through the whole house. At the end of each wing is a yard where the prisoners walk, and in each yard there is a shed under which they work. The men I found busy pulling horse-hair, and most of the females at their usual domestic occupations. Even here we perceived the great distinction between the white and coloured races.

The number of female prisoners of both colours was nearly equal, and the coloured were not permitted to sit on the same bench with the white; the coloured were separated to the left! I procured a sight of the register, and was astonished to see that in this free country a magistrate has the right to imprison a person for two days, for cursing in the streets, as I found in the book. There are also in the county jail several cells for solitary confinement, narrow dark holes, in which it must be insupportably hot during the summer. Those who are of savage behaviour are confined in these cells, and kept there till they become civil.

Of the charitable institutions, we visited first, the Orphan Asylum, and then the hospital for widows, which stand near each other. They owe their origin to the donation of a lady, which has been increased by voluntary contributions, and is now under the direction of a board of ladies, mostly Friends, who are aided by the advice of a few select gentlemen. In the Orphan Asylum were ninety children of both sexes, who remain till they are twelve years of age, and are then bound out to learn a trade. They are educated in the same way as the orphans at New York. During the hours of recess, the children run about in a garden; the house is very cleanly, the bed-rooms are spacious, and each contain twenty beds; nevertheless, two children have to sleep in one bed.

Some years ago, the house caught fire, and the conflagration was so rapid that more than thirty children perished in the flames. In rebuilding the house, they had the praiseworthy consideration to banish wood entirely from the building, and even the stairs are of stone. The Widow’s Asylum is tenanted by helpless widows, over which the above-mentioned board also have control. They are boarded, clothed, and nursed as long as they live. The rooms are occupied by one or two persons each, and there is a common sitting and eating room. In this establishment great cleanliness is also observable.

The large and celebrated hospital of Philadelphia was established by the Quakers, and is under their direction. It owes its origin to voluntary contributions and posthumous donations. It is surrounded by a garden, and consists of a main building with two wings, besides other separate buildings, one of which is used for incurable lunatics, another for venereal patients, and others for household purposes and stables; for they here keep carriages, in which the convalescents ride when it is allowed. Behind the principal building is a kitchen garden, with a hot-house that contains many exotic plants. A particular building has been erected for the painting of Sir Benjamin West, who was a native of Philadelphia, and presented it to the hospital. The subject of the painting is Christ healing the sick. Neither the composition nor the execution of this painting appear to me to be successful; and perhaps it is only here, where they are unaccustomed to see great and well executed paintings, that this could excite such astonishing admiration as it has done.24 It is really singular that near this painting, which certainly has some merit, they should hang a little picture, accidentally discovered in the city, which was daubed as a first essay by the same artist, when young.

The hospital is three stories high; in the lower story are the offices, the apothecary, the rooms of two physicians, one of whom must always be in the house, and the library, which contains a very handsome collection of books on medicine and natural history. As a sort of antiquity, they show here William Penn’s arm-chair; a leaden statue, made in England, of this eminent man, of full size and in the Quaker dress, stands in the square in front of the house. Corridors run through both wings, and thence you enter the rooms, each containing twelve patients; they are under the care of female nurses, and lay on wooden bedsteads; only the maniacs have them of iron. Throughout this house extraordinary cleanliness is observed. To the melancholy, every species of employment is permitted, provided it does not interfere with their own safety or that of other patients. Some worked in the garden, two were occupied as cabinet-makers, and a lock-maker from Darmstadt was engaged two years in making a musket, for which he has prepared a colossal lock of wire and tin.

When I returned from this remarkable institution, I received a visit from a literary gentleman from Leipzic, Mr. Rivinus. This young man had already been two years in this city, collecting observations on America, to make known in Germany. I was much interested by him. He appeared to me well suited to gather information concerning the new world and to present it to the old; perhaps he may contribute to make German literature known to the Americans.

Mr. Vaux had the politeness to accompany me to some literary institutions. We went first to the Franklin Library; this collection, which amounts to thirty thousand volumes, was established by voluntary subscriptions, and is supported by the same means. The subscribers have the right to take books home with them; the library contains likewise a large collection of copperplates, and amongst others a handsome edition of Hogarth’s prints. The library is arranged in two great halls, and as a curiosity they show Dr. Franklin’s library chair. The statue of this famous man stands in a niche over the entrance of the house, and was presented, as the inscription says, by Mr. Bingham, the meritorious father of Mr. Bingham of Montreal. After that we went to the Philosophical Society, which also owns a building, and possesses a rich library and cabinet.25 The librarian, Mr. John Vaughan, a venerable gentleman, equally esteemed for his benevolence and urbanity, performed the honours. He showed us the handwriting of several celebrated individuals of the revolution. The cabinet contains, amongst other things, a mineralogical cabinet, a collection of shells, &c. Finally, we went to the State House, and saw the plain and not very large hall in which the Declaration of Independence was signed on the 4th of July, 1776. This hall is decorated with a wooden statue, the size of life of President Washington; on the pedestal is the following inscription: “First in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen.”

On the 18th of October, I travelled in the stage to Bethlehem, a place settled in the year 1741, by the evangelical congregation of Moravians. It was impossible to me to leave the state of Pennsylvania without first visiting this society, which is highly esteemed here on account of their usefulness, morals, &c. Mr. Vaux gave me a recommendatory letter.

Bethlehem is fifty-two miles from Philadelphia; as the intercourse between both places is not very great, the stage goes but twice a week from each place. Day had not dawned when I left Philadelphia; the stage was very full, and the weather was uncommonly cold. As stage companions, I became acquainted with two Messrs. Rice, members of the Moravian Society, and inhabitants of Bethlehem, and found them very amiable, sensible, and well-informed men. One of them had travelled in Germany, and both spoke very good German. We changed horses twice, and also the stage, which unfortunately was worse at each change, the first time at Whitemarsh, and the second at Quakertown; the road was mostly turnpike, and somewhat resembled our German roads, except that the stones thrown on the road were rather too large, and the path was not well filled up. After having changed horses the second time, we went on a lately made turnpike, the stones not having been travelled on. The latter part of the road was not yet turnpiked, and resembled a rocky bye-road, but, on account of the dry season, was the most comfortable. The agriculture of this region shows that the country has already been long under cultivation. The houses are mostly strong, built of blue limestone, and covered with shingles. There has been considerable expense bestowed on the barns, most of them have the appearance of churches. The fields and meadows were fenced, mostly with zigzag, commonly called worm-fences. Corn was still standing on the fields, but they had begun to gather it. The winter grain had already sprouted, and had a pleasing appearance. The trade in wheat flour is carried on very largely in Pennsylvania; this flour has very justly obtained a good reputation, and is much sought for in the West Indies; no where, not even excepting Europe, have I eaten as good bread as in this state. The original forests have been eradicated, and you see very few old and handsome trees as in the state of New York; the wood, however, has grown again, and consists mostly of large-leafed oaks, chesnut, walnut, and hickory trees; the soil is partly limestone, and partly clay. In the neighbourhood of Bethlehem, the soil is mostly limestone; there are a great many rocks, and you observe here the earth often crumbled, as is the case in calcarious mountains. The inhabitants are mostly descendants of Germans, emigrants from Wirtemberg, who still retain their language, although in an imperfect state. They print here for the country people, newspapers and sheet almanacs, in American German. The difference is already perceptible in the state of Pennsylvania which exists between the southern and northern states in the education of the lower classes: it is said to be still more striking in the southern states. They particularly complain that the former German farmers did not send their children to school at all; lately, however, they have become more ambitious, and attend the schools, because the legislature of Pennsylvania has passed a law, that no citizen shall sit on a jury unless he can read and write the English language. The German farmers consider it an honour to be called upon a jury, but find themselves deprived of that honour on account of their ignorance. They now, therefore, have their sons instructed in English. I saw in the woods two small octagonal houses, and was informed that they were schools, which, however, were never frequented.