WILLIAM'S DEPARTURE.— GREENWOOD CEMETERY.— JOURNEY TO WASHINGTON.— ARRANGEMENTS FOR OUR JOURNEY TO THE FAR WEST.— TOPSY.

Washington, 16th Oct. 1858.

I closed my last letter to you on the 12th, and gave it to William to take to you. On the following day we bade him a sorrowful farewell, made all the more melancholy by the day being very rainy, which prevented our seeing him on board. We so very rarely see rain, that when it comes it is most depressing to our spirits, without any additional cause for lamentation; but it never lasts beyond a day, and is always succeeded by a renewal of most brilliant weather.

To console ourselves next day, although papa said it was an odd source of consolation, we went to see the Greenwood Cemetery, which is one of the four remaining sights of New York, the fifth, the Crystal Palace, being, as I wrote to you, burnt down. The cemetery, however, proved a great "sell," as William would have called it; for it is not to be compared to the one at Philadelphia; and instead of the beautiful white marble, surrounding each family plot, we found grey stone, or, still more commonly, a cast iron rail. Moreover, it had to be reached by an endless series of steamer-ferries and tramways, which, though they did not consume much money (under 1s. a head), occupied a great deal more time than the thing was worth. The excursion, however, gave us an opportunity of seeing the town of Brooklyn, which, though insignificant, in point of size, as compared with New York, has nearly as many inhabitants as either Boston or Baltimore, and numbers more than twice those in the town from which I now write.

We left New York yesterday, end slept at Philadelphia. When we went there last week, the first thirty miles of our route was across the Bay of New York, in a steamer, and, on our return, we came the whole way by rail; but there is a third line, which we took on this occasion, called the New Jersey Line, by which we went as far as Burlington by rail, and thence a distance of nineteen miles in a steamboat down the Delaware. It was splendid moonlight, and the town of Philadelphia, which stretches along the banks of the river for nearly five miles, was well lighted, and the river being crowded with ships, the whole effect was very pretty.

It is marvellous how well they manage these huge steam-boats. They come noiselessly up to the pier without the least shock in touching it, and it is almost impossible to know when one has left the boat and reached terra firma, so close do they bring the vessel up to the wharf. The whole process is directed by a man at the wheel, and regulated by sound of bell. There is a perfect absence of all yells, and cries, and strong expressions, so common in a French steamer, and not unfrequent in an English one.

We arrived too late at Philadelphia to be able to do much that evening, and this morning, we started early for Baltimore, en route for this place. We had two very pleasant and communicative fellow-travellers, one a coal merchant, who resides at Wilmington, the capital of Delaware, the other a Quaker, a retired merchant from Philadelphia, who gave us a good deal of information about some of the institutions and charities of that place. He stood up much for the Girard College, and justified the enormous cost of the building, by saying it was meant as a monument to the founder. He made a very good defence of the solitary system, which I mentioned in my last as existing in the penitentiary, and we were beginning to think him a very wise "Friend," when he broke out on the merits of Phonography, which, by his account, seems to have made much progress in America, and he has asked us to call on Mr. Pitman, their great authority on that subject, at Cincinnati. The old gentleman's name was Sharpless, and it deserves to be recorded in this journal, he being the only American we have heard take anything like a high tone upon the subject of slavery. He gave us the names of some books upon the subject, which we, in the innocence of our hearts, have been asking for in Baltimore and here, forgetting that we are now in those states where it forms a happy (?) feature in their domestic institutions.

As we were about to part, the old gentleman addressed us both, and turning to me, said, "I must tell thee how well it was in thee to come out to this country with thy husband, and not to let him come alone. A man should never allow himself to be separated from a good wife, and thou doest well, both of thee, to keep together." To which complimentary speech I replied, that I had made it the one stipulation in giving my consent to papa's crossing the ocean that I should accompany him; and I confessed that I little thought at the time that I should be taken at my word, or that our berths would be engaged the following day; but hoped rather, by such stipulation, to prevent his going altogether. I added that if all went well with our family at home, as I trusted it would, I had no reason to do otherwise than be very glad I had come. We arrived here at last. The Americans are very proud of their country. But, oh! it would do them all good to see this blessed Washington, which few of them do, except their Senators and Members of Congress, and others connected with government. Well may Dickens term it "the city of magnificent intentions." Such ambitious aspirings to make a great city! Such streets marked out; twice or three times the width of Portland Place! and scarcely anything completed, with the exception of some public buildings, which, to do them justice, are not only on a magnificent scale, but very beautiful. I shall, however, delay my account of Washington till we have seen more of it, as we stay here till Monday afternoon, when we return to Baltimore so as to allow us to make a start for the West on Tuesday.

We are to travel quite en prince, over the Ohio and Baltimore railroad, one of the most wonderful of all American railways. At New York we had introductions given us to request the officials of this line to allow us to travel on the engine, or on the cowcatcher if we preferred it! either of which would undoubtedly have given us a fair opportunity of viewing the scenery; but papa saw to-day, at Baltimore, the managing director, who has arranged for the principal engineer to go with us, and he is to take us in the director's car, which we are to have to ourselves, and this gentleman, Mr. Tyson, is to let us stop whenever we have a fancy to do so. We are to go fast or slow as we may prefer. We are to start on Tuesday morning, at the tail of the express train, and we have only to give the signal when our car will be detached. There are only two or three trains daily for passengers; but there are goods' and extra trains for various purposes, which are constantly running at different speeds on the road. It is by reattaching ourselves to any of these, that we can, when we like, effect all this, and have an opportunity of seeing, in the most leisurely manner, and without any detriment to the other passengers, the various parts of the road that may be worth exploring. The line is very beautiful, and I hope Mr. Tyson will be prepared for my frequently stopping him when I see trees, with their splendid red leaves that I may wish particularly to gather. We are to take our food in this carriage, if necessary, and have beds made up in it, so as to make us quite independent of inns, and we may pass as many days as we like upon the road. We are to do this because, though some of the hotels are good, we may not find them at the exact places where we wish to stop. Papa has no connection with this road, and it must be American appreciation of his virtues which has led the officials to deal with us in this luxurious way.

On Tuesday the 19th inst., therefore, we make our real start for the West, and shall probably the first night reach Harper's Ferry, a place which President Jefferson, in his "Notes on Virginia," which you will find in papa's library, said, was "one of the most stupendous scenes in nature, and well worth a voyage across the Atlantic to witness;" and this was written when these voyages were not so easily accomplished as they are now. But this railway has opened up scenery which was not known to Jefferson, and is said far to surpass, in beauty, even this celebrated Harper's Ferry; but of this we shall soon be able to judge for ourselves.

October 18th.—This must be posted to-day before we lionise this place, so I shall reserve all I have to say about Washington till my next, and shall fill up this page with a description of a real live "Topsy" slave, with whom we have made acquaintance here. She is fourteen, the property of an old Miss D. We noticed her yesterday standing about in the passage, and asked her if she belonged to the hotel, and she said no, that she belonged to Miss D. We said, quite seriously, as we now always do to blacks and whites of the lower orders, "Where were you raised?" The creature answered us quietly, "In Virginny." She is a full, well grown girl, with a large bushy crop of wool on her head; a pleasant, large, round intelligent face, that is almost pretty. The young niggers have very little of the real negro cast of countenance, and the little boys and girls about the streets are really pretty, and almost loveable looking; while the elders, especially the females, are hideous to behold, and are only to be tolerated, in point of looks, when they wear coloured turbans. When I see one adorned in a bonnet at the back of her head, with a profusion, inside, of the brightest artificial flowers, a bright vulgar shawl and dress, and an enormous hoop, with very narrow petticoats, I always wish to rush home, light a large bonfire, and throw into the flames every article of ornamental dress that I possess.

But to return to dear Topsy. We asked her if she were a slave, feeling very backward to put so trying a question to her; but she answered with the utmost simplicity, that she was, just as if we had asked her if she were from France or Germany. In reply to our questions, she said that her father and mother were slaves; that she has several younger brothers and sisters; that Miss D. is very rich. "'Spect she has above a hundred slaves;" and that she is very kind to them all. "Can you read?" "No; Miss D. has often tried to teach me, but I never could learn. 'Spect I am too large to learn now." We lectured her about this, and gave her Sir Edward Parry's favourite advice, to "try again." I then asked her if she went to church. "No, never." "Does Miss D.?" "Mighty seldom." "Do you know who made you?" "Yes, God." "Do you ever pray?" "No, never; used to, long ago; but," with a most sanctimonious drawl, "feel such a burden like, when I try to kneel down, that I can't." This was such a gratuitous imitation of what she must have heard the goody[6] niggers say, that I felt sorely disposed to give her young black ears a sound boxing, for supposing such a piece of acting could impose upon us. However, leaving the dark ears alone, I urged the duty of prayer upon her, as strongly and simply as I could, and made her promise to kneel down every night and morning and pray. She had heard of Christ, and repeated some text (again a quotation, no doubt, from the goody niggers) about his death; but she did not know, on further examination, who He is, nor what death He died. She said Miss D. read to them all, every Sunday; but probably not in a very instructive manner. She said her name was Almira. I gave her Miss Marsh's "Light for the Line," which happened to be the only book I had by me which was at all suitable, and told her to get it read to her, and that I was sorry I had nothing else to give her; but I shall try this morning to get her an alphabet, in order to encourage her to make another attempt to learn to read. At parting last night, I spoke as solemnly as I could to her, and told her we should probably never meet again in this world, but that we should be sure to meet hereafter, at the judgment seat of God, and I entreated her to remember the advice I had given her.

As we do not know Miss D., who is a very deaf old lady, staying here, like ourselves, for a day or two, our conferences with young Topsy have been necessarily very short, and constantly interrupted by Miss D.'s coming past us, and wanting her; but we should like very much to buy Almira, and bring her home to make a nursery maid of her, and teach her all she ought to know, and "'spect" after all she is not "too large" to learn, poor young slave! It was pleasant, in our first colloquy of the kind, to talk to such an innocent specimen of a slave. I mean innocent, as respects her ignorance of the horrors of slavery, of which she evidently had not even the faintest idea. I asked her what she did for Miss D.? "Dresses her, does her room, and fixes her up altogether." The real, original Topsy is no doubt a most correctly drawn character, judging by this specimen. And now adieu; you shall have a further chapter on Washington next time.