Arrival at Pittsburg—Its Trade and Prospects—Temperance—Newspapers
—Trip up the Monongahela to Brownsville—Staging by Night across the
Alleghany Mountains—Arrival at Cumberland—The Railway Carriages of
America.

Arriving at Pittsburg in the middle of the night of the 10th of March, we remained on board till morning. As we had been accustomed on this "Clipper No. 2" to breakfast at half-past 7, I thought they surely would not send us empty away. But no! we had to turn out at that early hour of a morning piercingly cold, and get a breakfast where we could, or remain without. This was "clipping" us rather too closely, after we had paid seven dollars each for our passage and provisions.

Pittsburg is in the State of Pennsylvania. Its progress has been rapid, and its prospects are bright. Seventy years ago the ground on which it stands was a wilderness, the abode of wild beasts and the hunting ground of Indians. Its manufactures are chiefly those of glass, iron, and cotton. It is the Birmingham of America. Indeed one part of it, across the river, is called "Birmingham," and bids fair to rival its old namesake. Its advantages and resources are unparalleled. It occupies in reference to the United States, north and south, east and west, a perfectly central position. It is surrounded with, solid mountains of coal, which—dug out, as I have intimated, with the greatest ease—is conveyed with equal ease down inclined planes to the very furnace mouths of the foundries and factories! This great workshop communicates directly, by means of the Ohio, the Mississippi, Red River, &c., with immense countries, extending to Texas, to Mexico, and to the Gulph. Its population, already 70,000, is (I believe) incomparably more intelligent, more temperate, more religious, and more steady than that of any manufacturing town in England. In fact, England has not much chance of competing successfully with America, unless her artizans copy more extensively the example of the American people in the entire abandonment of intoxicating liquors. In travelling leisurely from New Orleans to Boston (the whole length of the United States), and sitting down at all sorts of tables, on land and on water, private and public, I have never once seen even wine brought to the table. Nothing but water was universally used!

At Pittsburg I bought three good-sized newspapers for 5 cents, or twopence-halfpenny. One of them, The Daily Morning Post, was a large sheet, measuring 3 feet by 2, and well filled on both sides with close letter-press, for 2 cents, or one penny. The absence of duty on paper and of newspaper stamps is no doubt one great cause of the advanced intelligence of the mass of the American people. What an absurd policy is that of the British Government, first to impose taxes upon knowledge, and then to use the money in promoting education!

At Pittsburg the Ohio ends, or rather begins, by the confluence of the Alleghany and the Monongahela rivers. We ascended the latter to Brownsville, about 56 miles. Having booked ourselves at an office, we had to get into a smaller steamer on the other side of the bridge which spans the river. The entire charge to Philadelphia was 12 dollars each. We went by the "Consul," at half-past 8 A.M. of the 11th of March. The water was very high, as had been the case in the Ohio all the way from Cincinnati. We had not proceeded far when I found the passengers a-stir, as if they had got to their journey's end. What was the matter? Why, we had come to falls, which it was very doubtful whether the steamer could get over. The passengers were soon landed, and the steamer, with the crew, left to attempt the ascent. There were locks at hand by which, under ordinary circumstances, boats evaded the difficulty; but the flood was now so great that they could not be used. Our steamer, therefore, stirred up her fires, raised her steam, brought all her powers to bear, faced the difficulty, dashed into it, cut along, and set at defiance the fury of the flood. "There she goes!"—"No!"—"Yes!"—"No!"—"She's at a stand,"—the next moment she was gliding back with the torrent: she had failed! But nil desperandum. "Try—try—try again!" An immense volume of smoke issued from her chimney, and soon she seemed again to be fully inflated with her vapoury aliment. I expected every moment an explosion, and, while rejoicing in our own safety on terra firma, felt tremblingly anxious for the lives of those on board. Having had sufficient time to "recover strength," she made for the foaming surge once more. "There she goes!"—"No!"—"Yes!"—she paused—but it was only for the twinkling of an eye,—the next moment she was over, and the bank's of the Monongahela resounded with the joyful shouts of the gazing passengers. We now breathed more freely, and were soon on board again; but we had not advanced very far before we had to get out once more, in consequence of other falls, which were stemmed with the same inconvenience, the same anxiety, and the same success as in the preceding instance.

But ere long an obstacle more formidable than the falls presented itself—a bridge across the river. This bridge the boats were accustomed to pass under, but the water was now so high that it could not be done; and we had to wait till another boat belonging to the same company, above the bridge, came down from Brownsville, and enabled us to effect an exchange of passengers; for neither of the boats could get under the bridge. The down boat soon made its appearance; and a scene of confusion ensued which I know not how to describe. Imagine two sets of passengers, about 150 persons in each set, exchanging boats! Three hundred travellers jostling against each other, with "plunder" amounting to some thousands of packages, to be removed a distance of 300 or 400 yards, at the risk and responsibility of the owners, without any care or concern on the part of the officers of the boats! Trunks seemed to run on wheels, carpet-bags to have wings, and portmanteaus to jump about like grasshoppers. If you had put down one article while looking for the rest, in an instant it would be gone. In this amusing scuffle were involved several members of Congress, returning in the "down" boat from their legislative duties. The celebrated Judge M'Lean was among them. But the safety of some box or parcel was just then—to most of us—of more importance than all the great men in the world. The baggage storm being over, and the great division and trans-shipment effected, we moved forward in peace. By-and-by, however, each one was called upon to show his baggage, that it might be set apart for the particular coach to which it would have to be consigned. This was a most troublesome affair. At half-past 6 in the evening we arrived at Brownsville, having been ten hours in getting over the 56 miles from Pittsburg.

And now for the stage-coaches; for, nolens volens, "a-head" we must go that very night. About seven or eight coaches were filled by those of our fellow-passengers who, like ourselves, were going to cross the mountains. Some of the vehicles set off immediately; but three waited to let their passengers get tea or supper, meals which in America are identical. About 8 P.M. we started on our cold and dreary journey of 73 miles across the Alleghany Mountains. A stage-coach in America is a very different thing from the beautiful machine that used to pass by that name in England.

It has no outside accommodation, except for one person on the box along with the driver. The inside, in addition to the fore seat and the hind seat, has also a middle seat across the vehicle. Each of these three seats holds three persons, making nine in all. In our stage we had ten persons; but the ten, in a pecuniary point of view, were only eight and a half. The night was fearfully dark, and the roads were altogether unworthy of the name. Yet there is an immense traffic on this route, which is the highway from East to West. The Americans, with all their "smartness," have not the knack of making either good roads or good streets. About 11 P.M. we arrived at Uniontown, 12 miles from Brownsville. There the horses were to be changed, an operation which took about an hour to accomplish. Three coaches were there together. The passengers rushed out of the inn, where we had been warming ourselves, and jumped into the coaches. Crack went the whips, off went the horses, and round went the wheels. But, alas! while we could hear the rattling of the other coaches, our own moved not at all! "Driver, why don't you be off?" No answer. "Driver, push on." No reply. "Go a-head, driver,—don't keep us here all night." No notice taken. We began to thump and stamp. No response. At last I put my head out through the window. There was no driver; and, worse still, there were no horses! How was this? There was no "team," we were told, for our coach! I jumped out, and began to make diligent inquiry: one told me one thing, and another another. At length I learned that there was a "team" in the stable, but there was no driver disposed to go. The one who should have taken us was cursing and swearing in bed, and would not get up. This was provoking enough. "Where is the agent of the stage-coach company?"—"He lives about 47 miles off." "Where is the landlord of this house?"—"He is in bed." There we were helpless and deserted on the highroad, between 12 and 1 o'clock, in an extremely cold night, without any redress or any opportunity of appeal! It was nobody's business to care for us. I groped my way, however, to some outbuilding, where about half-a-dozen drivers were snoring in their beds, and, with the promise of making it "worth his while," succeeded in inducing one of them to get up and take us to the next place for changing horses. But before we could get off it was 2 o'clock in the morning. We reached the next station, a distance of 10 miles, at 5 P.M., and paid our driver two dollars. In America drivers are not accustomed to receive gratuities from passengers, but ours was a peculiar case. After a most wearisome day of travel, being tossed about in the coach like balls, expecting every moment to be upset, and feeling bruised all over, we reached Cumberland at 9 P.M., having been 25 hours in getting over 73 miles, at the amazing rate of 3 miles an hour! In Cumberland we had to stay all night.

At 8 A.M. the next day we set off by railway, or (as the Americans would say) "by the cars," to Baltimore. In committing my trunk to the luggage-van, I was struck with the simplicity and suitableness of the check system there adopted. A piece of tin, with a certain number upon it, was fastened by a strap to each article of baggage, and a duplicate piece given to the passenger. I also remarked the size, shape, and fittings-up of the cars. They are from 30 to 50 feet long, having an aisle right through the middle from end to end, and on each side of that aisle rows of seats, each of sufficient length to accommodate two persons. The arrangement reminded me of a little country meeting-house, the congregation amounting to from 50 to 100 persons. Each carriage contained a stove,—at that season a most important article of furniture. The seats, which were very nicely cushioned, had their hacks so arranged as that the passengers could easily turn them as they pleased, and sit with either their faces or their backs "towards the horses" as they might feel disposed. This part of the arrangement is indispensable, as these long carriages can never be turned. The hind part in coming is the fore part in going, and vice versa. The distinctions of first, second, and third class carriages are unknown. That would be too aristocratic. But the "niggers" must go into the luggage-van. These republican carriages are very neatly fitted up, being mostly of mahogany with crimson velvet linings; but you often feel annoyed that such dirty people should get in.