Atlantic States -- Description and travel; Kemble, Fanny, 1809-1893; United States -- Social life and customs -- 1783-1865
gliding through it, at about four miles and a half an hour, seemed to me
infinitely preferable to the noise of wheels, the rumble of a coach, and
the jerking of bad roads, for the gain of a mile an hour. The only
nuisances are the bridges over the canal, which are so very low, that
one is obliged to prostrate one's self on the deck of the boat, to
avoid being scraped off it; and this humiliation occurs, upon an
average, once every quarter of an hour. Mr. ---- read Don Quixote to us:
he reads very peculiarly; slowly, and with very marked emphasis. He has
a strong feeling of humour, as well as of poetry: in fact, they belong
to each other; for humour is but fancy laughing, and poetry but fancy
sad. The valley of the Mohawk, through which we crept the whole
sunshining day, is beautiful from beginning to end; fertile, soft, rich,
and occasionally approaching sublimity and grandeur in its rocks and
hanging woods. We had a lovely day, and a soft blessed sunset, which,
just as we came to a point where the canal crosses the river, and where
the curved and wooded shores on either side recede, leaving a broad
smooth basin, threw one of the most exquisite effects of light and
colour I ever remember to have seen over the water and through the sky.
The sun had scarce been down ten minutes from the horizon, when the deck
was perfectly wet with the heaviest dew possible, which drove us down to
the cabin. Here I fell fast asleep, till awakened by the cabin girl's
putting her arms affectionately round me, and telling me that I might
come and have the first choice of a berth for the night, in the horrible
hen-coop allotted to the female passengers. I was too sleepy to
acknowledge or avail myself of the courtesy; but the girl's manner was
singularly gentle and kind. We sat in the men's cabin until they began
making preparations for bed, and then withdrew into a room about twelve
feet square, where a whole tribe of women were getting to their beds.
Some half undressed, some brushing, some curling, some washing, some
already asleep in their narrow cribs, but all within a quarter of an
inch of each other: it made one shudder. As I stood cowering in a
corner, half asleep, half crying, the cabin girl came to me again, and
entreated me to let her make a bed for me. However, upon my refusing to
undress before so much good company, or lie down in such narrow
neighbourhood, she put D---- and myself in a small closet, where were
four empty berths, where I presently fell fast asleep, where she
established herself for the night, and where D----, wrapped up in a
shawl, sat till morning under the half-open hatchway, breathing damp
starlight.
_Thursday, 11th._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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