Atlantic States -- Description and travel; Kemble, Fanny, 1809-1893; United States -- Social life and customs -- 1783-1865
wonderful, than the reality of things presents to those who understand
their properties and natures. The waters were all fast frozen up, and
one or two little pools, all curdled with ice, and locked up in deep
gravelly basins, looked like onyx stones set in gold. As for the road,
we had been assured it was exceedingly good; but mercy on us! I can't
think of it without aching. Here we went up, up, up, and there we went
down, down, down,--now, I was in my father's lap, and now I was half out
of window. The utter impossibility of holding one's self in any one
position for two minutes is absolutely ridiculous. Sometimes we laughed,
and at other times we groaned, at our helpless and hopeless condition;
but at last we arrived, with no bones broken, at about three o'clock, at
the capital and seat of government of the United States.[83] Upon the
height immediately above the city is situated the Capitol, a very
handsome building, of which the Americans are not a little proud; but it
seems placed there by mistake, so little do the miserable untidy hovels
above, and the scattered unfinished red-brick town below, accord with
its patrician marble and high-sounding title. We drove to Gadsby's,
which is an inn like a little town, with more wooden galleries, flights
of steps, passages, door-ways, exits, and entrances, than any building I
ever saw: it reminded me of the house in Tieck's Love-charm. We had not
been arrived a quarter of an hour, when in walked Mr. ---- and Captain
----, and presently Mr. ----. They sat for some time discussing,
laughing, quizzing, and being funny, and then departed. Captain ---- was
telling us a story about a man somewhere up in the lost lands, who was
called Philemon, and whose three sons were paganed (christened, I
suppose, one can't say,) Romulus, Remus, and Tiberius. I thought this
was too good to be true; and D---- and I, laughing over it at dinner,
agreed that we wished any thing of the sort had happened to us. "Some
bread, waiter: what is your name?" said I to the black who was waiting
upon us. "Horatius!" was the reply; which sent me and D---- into fits.
_Monday, 14th._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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