The Truth About America Part 2

But, except at night, they are seldom indoors. Riding many miles after stray cattle, milking, b.u.t.ter-making, rearing crops for cattle food in the winter. There is plenty of occupation and they work well.

The cattle on such ranches stay out the year round. On the largest the owner often knows not how many there are. Occasionally they are driven into corrals (wooden enclosures), and counted, while the young stock are then branded. The life is necessarily wild, rough, and solitary. The ranch-owner, like Robinson Crusoe, is lord of all he surveys for many miles round. His work is not hard, his gun, his rod, his horses are his amus.e.m.e.nts, but domestic happiness, the charm of "home" is not his. Think you he is to be envied or pitied?

All ranches in the States are not as above described. Where there is more population the ranches are smaller and differ in other ways. I shall have to describe one later which I bought, so will not do it here.

I had with me a mattress and blankets for the emigrant car beyond New Orleans, but having a first-cla.s.s ticket I supposed this ent.i.tled me to a regular made-up bed in the Pullman carriage which was next to the first-cla.s.s car. I found though it was not so, and that two dollars a night had to be paid for the luxury. In the first-cla.s.s carriage, with small seats holding only two, it was impossible to lie down at all, and so I paid it, but this was the first experience I had of the way Europeans are deceived on the American railroads. When I paid at New York the difference of third to first as far as New Orleans, the official well knew, for I told him, I did it to secure sleeping accommodation, but he took good care not to undeceive me. I have known the same sort of thing occur again and again. The most flagrant case I met with I will mention here. I was in Colorado at the time, and about leaving for England. I wrote to a high official of the Central Pacific Railway, at Denver, for the rates of through tickets to New York. He replied that first-cla.s.s was 48 dollars, second, I think, 44, and added, the difference was small (which was quite true), and that an additional advantage obtained by going first-cla.s.s was that "it ent.i.tled you to sleeping accommodation." (I can swear to the six words quoted.) "Yankee cuteness" had made me suspicious by this time, besides I had never known the Pullman beds included in first-cla.s.s fare, so I wrote again, and asked if he meant what his letter said. Driven into a corner he explained what I had previously known, viz. that only first-cla.s.s pa.s.sengers _could_ use the Pullman, but had to pay extra for it. I wrote back indignantly and said the statement in his first letter was a.n.a.logous, and equally truthful, to the following supposit.i.tious case. A meets his friend B in a town. A points to a jeweller's shop, and tells B he is "ent.i.tled" to anything in it. So he is if he pays for it, and it was the same with the Pullman car!

We reached New Orleans in due course. It is in lat.i.tude 30 while New York is 41. It is thus much further south, about 1600 miles by rail.

It is not a healthy place, the yellow fever often makes great ravages, but I heard nothing of it. I was only there one day, so can say very little about the town. The sun was very powerful and I did not care to roam. There are many French, and they had imported Cafes on their national plan, with seats outside. Of course the coloured race was numerous, and as a consequence the semi-coloured also. Many ladies and women of this latter cla.s.s are very handsome; I saw some beautiful faces among them. The "Yankees" are not in the ascendant so far south, and as a consequence the habits of the people are more courteous. The large French element there also conduces thereto.

Another thing struck me, the inhabitants seem to take life easier, there is not the rush and drive one meets with in New York. As regards the people I should not object to live there, but the climate is a sad drawback. The winters are much pleasanter than met with north, but the summers must be far worse, and the yellow fever is a sad ogre.

The princ.i.p.al street is a grand one, very wide, with trees on the Boulevard plan. In this respect it far surpa.s.ses Broadway in New York,[3] while in buildings it is equal to it. I also found New Orleans much cheaper, the dollar commands more. I was only there about sixteen hours, and then left by the Southern Pacific line _en route_ for California.

As I said before, for this part of the journey I had only emigrant cla.s.s tickets. The distance is very great, right across the continent, and to San Francisco, where I was bound, some 2900 miles.

It was with no little anxiety, therefore, I stepped into and inspected the said emigrant cla.s.s carriage, in which I was to spend some five days and nights. The interior will be better understood after I have described the general plan and principle of American trains.

Here in England each carriage is divided into compartments, distinct from each other, holding 6, 8, or 10 pa.s.sengers. In America there are no compartments whatever. Whether first, second, or emigrant cla.s.s, the carriage is open from end to end. In the middle, connecting the doors at either extremity (there are no doors at the sides), runs an open s.p.a.ce, about three feet wide, and the seats are on either side of this pa.s.sage, and placed at right angles to it. Each seat holds two people, the seats are placed in front of one another on both sides the whole length of the carriage or car, except a certain s.p.a.ce at either end, of which presently. When the pa.s.sengers are seated they thus all face the engine, but the back of each seat works on a pivot at its foot, so that the said back can be placed on either side of the seat. In other words, you can thus sit either with your face or back to the engine. This is a great convenience, for, if the carriage is not crowded and two people can occupy two seats, by placing the backs different ways, you can put your legs on the opposite cushion. But it is a greater convenience still in the emigrant cars, for in them a board can be drawn out to fill up the vacancy between the seats, and you thus have s.p.a.ce for a bed. In the emigrant carriages each pa.s.senger is ent.i.tled to s.p.a.ce for his bed at night, and it is thus arranged. The two seats hold four in the day.

At night two of the said four vacate, and occupy a s.p.a.ce above, made large enough for two beds. This is the arrangement when the car is full, which is not often the case, but otherwise one sleeps above and one below. I was fortunate. Sometimes I occupied the upper, sometimes the lower s.p.a.ce, but I never had to share either with another. The above arrangement, viz. s.p.a.ces for beds, is only in the emigrant cars. In the first cla.s.s, and in the second if there is one (for a second cla.s.s carriage is the exception), there is no board to pull out to fill up the vacancy between the seats, nor is there any s.p.a.ce for beds above, so that really, unless you go first and pay the nightly charge for the made bed in the Pullman car, you are far better off in the emigrant carriage than in either of the others.

The s.p.a.ces alluded to above at both ends of the carriages are occupied in one case by a stove and reservoir for iced water, in the other by a lavatory and retiring closet. The long journeys in America _could_ not be undertaken without these conveniences.

In front of the door at each end of the carriage is a small platform, which joins on to and very nearly touches the adjoining one of the next car. The conductor or guard can thus at any time go from one end of the train to the other. So in fact can anybody else, though not permitted into a higher cla.s.s than paid for. There is no difficulty whatever in going from one carriage to another. I have often seen children do it with the train running at full speed. The said platforms, except the pa.s.sing s.p.a.ce, are railed in, and it is often very pleasant to stand out there in the day time and see the scenery, often at night too, when it is hot, for the draught then is very welcome.

The seats in the emigrant cars have no cushions, they are plain wood.

The pa.s.sengers sit on the pillows or mattresses brought with them, and there is thus no hardship in it. The other carriages have all cushioned seats. The Pullman cars are models of luxury. In some trains there are two Pullmans; one used as a drawing-room in the day and for beds at night, the other for meals. The lavatories in these are most commodious, one for men and one for ladies, and in every possible way the comfort of the pa.s.sengers is studied. You have your meals at any hour you like, the _cuisine_ is good, and all kinds of wine are on the list. You pa.s.s the day reading or writing, though the last is not easy, perfect as the springs are. You smoke, when you will, in a luxurious smoking-room. You can wander from one end of the train to the other, and at night you have a perfect bed. What more can one desire? Under such circ.u.mstances, a week's journey is no hardship; but, and it is an important "but" to many, to "do" America in this way is very expensive. The fare is high, the meals dear; thus, to cross the continent in this wise, costs perhaps 40_l._

I advise none but the rich to visit America with travel in view. But those to whom "money is no object," as the saying goes, can wander in the States with more comfort and luxury than anywhere in the world.

The American rail-cars, in their construction and arrangements, being so different to ours, it is well worth while to consider which is the better. I do not hesitate for a moment to award them the palm, in their phraseology, "far and away." In the first place, in such carriages the murders, thefts, and outrages, we occasionally hear of in England, are simply impossible. I will not dwell on this point, it must be so obvious. Secondly, you can quench your thirst, when you will, in whatever cla.s.s you are; here you cannot do it at all. More, you can wash, you can retire for any purpose, while here, the suffering both s.e.xes often go through, for want of such conveniences, is often very great, sometimes permanently injurious. Thirdly, you are not boxed up in a confined s.p.a.ce in their cars as you are in our carriages. You can have change, choose your society, stretch your legs, go outside, and all this necessarily makes the time pa.s.s pleasantly. That all this is so, every one must allow. Should we not then do well to copy their plan? The conservative feeling, prevalent with some, that _because_ "our plan is ours it cannot be beaten, and we'll stick to it," is so contemptible. Let each nation, I say, learn from the other in every way. Perfection is not human, there is always room for improvement, and narrow-minded is the individual who, puffed up with conceit for his own or national attributes, fails to recognize it outside. I know, of course, that to change our plan of rail carriages must in any case take many years, but some might be built on the new plan, and the change tried gradually. If any like privacy, a carriage on the old build would meet the want.

But beyond the carriages there is nothing regarding American railroads equal to, or as good, as our system. Here in England the lowest tariff, the third cla.s.s, is fixed by Act of Parliament. Every line is compelled to provide traffic at a given rate, viz. one penny per mile (parliamentary fares), and thus the poor can always travel cheaply, or the rich either if they choose to go third cla.s.s. In America, as far as I could ascertain, there is no Government interference at all in this respect, and each railroad company can charge what fares it pleases. The consequence is that on some lines the rates are simply prohibitory.

In England we have first, second, and third cla.s.s, to suit the means of pa.s.sengers. In America some lines have first and second cla.s.s, some first and emigrant cla.s.s, but some again only first! The second cla.s.s avails nothing for long distances, inasmuch as you have no room to lie down, and if you go second, as I said above, you cannot, even if ready to pay the charge, get a bed in the Pullman car. You are therefore, unless prepared to go emigrant, practically driven into the first cla.s.s. On those lines where there is only first cla.s.s, you are, of course, still more helpless, and can simply elect between rail and any other conveyance. I later bought a ranch in Colorado, close to a railroad. On that line there was only first cla.s.s. I there wrote the following letter to a local newspaper, and I give it here, as it elucidates much of what I have said.

A RANCHMAN'S PLAINT.

_To the Editor of the_ DAILY GAZETTE.

Sir,--I am an Englishman. I have lately bought a ranch near a station on the Denver and Rio Grande Railway. I naturally thought when I did so, that being near one of the iron roads would be a great advantage in many ways, but experience has shown me I was mistaken, inasmuch as the rates for pa.s.sengers, goods, and live stock are so high, no benefit whatever is conferred by the said railroad.

First, as to the said rates. On all the railroads I have seen in all the many countries I have visited, and I have travelled much, there are different cla.s.ses for pa.s.sengers. Here, on this railroad, there is only one, and that first-cla.s.s.

Where the justice, nay the policy, of this, even in the interests of the railroad? Is it fair to make a poor man travel in a velvet bedecked and gilded carriage and pay for the same, when economy being the one important point to him, he would rather pay less for ruder accommodation? Of course the only object the railroad directors can have by this unique and singular arrangement is to increase the receipts. But does it do so? I say no; many times no. How empty the carriages are! In my own case, had there been a cheap cla.s.s, I should, since I have been here, have once or twice a week visited Denver or the Springs. Instead of perhaps twenty trips, I have made three (my family none), and the last time there were only two other pa.s.sengers with me in the carriage. None of the ranchmen around use the rail. If they have to go anywhere on the line they drive, and all say it is far cheaper to do so and pay livery for the team than incur such high rates. Is not this an absurdity? The rate is, I believe, six cents a mile, which is just about three times that for the third cla.s.s in England. A railway should increase and foster travel. It always does so. No; one exception: the D. and R. G. Railway does not.

In the same way as individuals use their legs, horses, anything in preference to the rail, so it is on this line found cheaper to cart crops to market, and it is so done. Another result: crops don't pay here because the cost of taking them to market is so high. So not only does the railroad not get the existing crops, it also forfeits all which would be grown were the rates reasonable.

Truly the policy figured is a strange one and exemplifies exactly the best way "not to do it."

But I dare not trespa.s.s more on your s.p.a.ce, or I could enlarge greatly on other singular facts.

How, because there is compet.i.tion in one case and not in the other, short distances cost more for both pa.s.sengers and goods than longer ones. How it was (I am not sure as to the present) cheaper to take a through ticket when the destination was an intermediate station and get out at that station--if you could! These and much more are not peculiar to the railroad under discussion, though peculiar to America. The whole system of railroads in America puzzles me. With much that other countries might with advantage copy, there are crying evils which, were public opinion more expressed, could never be tolerated. But enough for to-day. If you care to insert this I may write again. E. M.

The American carriages have not the cla.s.s painted on them as ours.[4]

How you are supposed to know which is which, beats my comprehension.

Having settled yourself with all your small parcels, you suddenly find you are not in your right cla.s.s, and have all the trouble of changing!

When the train stops, be it for meals or otherwise, you are not warned beforehand, and no notice is given when about to start again.

Not even a whistle when it _does_ start! How different this from our plan, or the one on the Continent. The object in the States would seem to be to try and leave pa.s.sengers behind. This uncertainty also diminishes the advantage of stoppages, especially when meals are in the case.

I omitted, when describing the carriages, to dilate on the advantages of the stoves. These warm the cars most thoroughly. With the thermometer outside 20 or 25 below zero, the interior will be, say, 60! Here the most we get is a foot-warmer, and must needs shiver!

The Americans certainly score against us in all as regards the carriages and their comforts.

In England there are porters at all stations. In the States there are very few. Luggage once "checked," that is registered, you have no further trouble with it, but you will find no one to help you with what you keep by you. Changing trains with mattresses, bedding, baskets with food, &c., &c., is often very difficult. You carry your belongings, or rather as much as you can, to the new train, there is nothing to indicate the cla.s.s, so you place them in any carriage, and rush back for the rest, doubtful how much may be stolen at either end. Perhaps three trips are necessary, and you know not how long before the new train starts. No one thinks of helping you. Darkness, possibly, adds to your difficulties, for you can't find your last carriage, or the train you came in has been shunted. You are lucky if, after gymnastic performances with luggage which is a new experience, and wishing, as no porters exist, barrows were supplied, for then you could carry all in one trip, the new train has not started, without you, but with a share of your belongings!

I have seen ladies with children, emigrant women with their little all in peril, nearly insane in such cases. I have done their porter work more than once myself, and broken my shins in doing it. It is very shameful that it should be so; more shameful the fact that if on railroads, in such cases, you ask for information or help, the chances are you are answered _a la_ Yankee, i.e. rudely, and no a.s.sistance or information given you. Oh, this beastly want of courtesy in America, how I did loathe it!

The rail wars in the States are a grand feature--grand in the sense that they produce great results, some of them very absurd. One line tries to swamp the other by lowering its rates; the other retaliates, and quotes still lower figures. The first comes down more still, and the second follows suit. This goes on for months, to the advantage of the public, to the ruin of the lines. At last the _reductio_ is truly _ad absurdum._ 1500 miles for $5! Then the companies agree, and, presto, the rate is $50!! On a line there may be compet.i.tion at either end, not in the middle, e.g. the Denver and Rio Grande Railway above. Then is it cheaper to take a ticket right through than for half the distance, and get out at your destination if you can, for they often try to prevent your doing so! The Americans may be, nay, they are, "cute," but common sense would be more to the purpose in cases like the above.

Cut-rate-offices exist in all the large towns. The meaning of the term is an office where rail tickets can be bought under the existing rates. This is accomplished legitimately, and also by fraud; the first, by the fact that the companies think it worth their while to give such agents a commission on tickets sold, and they allow you a portion of such commission; the second, by selling you, often at a large reduction, the return ticket of another, who on arrival has found it unnecessary, and sold it for what he could get. As such tickets are not transferable, you have, after buying such, to personate on the return journey the original possessor, and sign his name. But the Yankees think nothing of this. Thank goodness, all Americans are not Yankees!

The object "far west" being population, emigrant carriages are supplied westward, in order that this said poor cla.s.s shall go cheaply; but having arrived, it is wiser to keep them there, and _ergo_, if they return they must do so first, or at least second-cla.s.s, for there are no emigrant fares back, i.e. eastward. I presume they are supposed to make so much money by even a short sojourn in the west, that economy can be no object on their return!

In England luggage is not registered, why, I never understood, for there is practically no safety in our plan. The boxes are labelled for their destination, and are thus safe so far; but if from any cause you are not then by to claim them, any one can walk off with any portion, and consequently the smallest delay on arrival is dangerous. Strange that losses are not more frequent. _For_, or _on_ the Continent, it _is_ registered through, and you get a receipt for the number of packages. So far good, but if you are obliged to stop _en route_, you cannot obtain the luggage or any part of it. Only at its destination can it be claimed by the production of the receipt.

The Continental plan is better than ours, but inferior to the American. They use bra.s.s labels with numbers; one is attached to the package, one given to the owner. Presenting this label, he can claim the baggage it represents at any time _en route_. The said labels are convenient enough, thin bra.s.s plates about half an inch square, and can easily be carried in a purse. The corresponding label is attached to the package in an excellent way. It is fastened to a leather strap, some six inches long, and in this, at the opposite end, is a slit; the strap is pa.s.sed through the handle of portmanteau or carpet-bag, or under the cord of any box, the label pa.s.sed through the said slit, and the strap drawn tight. It cannot possibly come off. On the label attached is the destination besides the number. On arrival there it is kept until claimed by the production of the corresponding ticket. It is by far the best arrangement for luggage I have ever seen.

Before arriving at any large town the train is boarded by what are called express-men. If you deliver to one of these your labels he gives you a receipt for them, and telling him where your baggage is to be sent, you will receive it there, without fail, in a couple of hours. There is no risk whatever in doing so, and the plan is very convenient; but as regards their charges the said express-men are most extortionate. They think nothing of fifty cents for each article, however short the distance may be, but half that amount if the things are few and large, one quarter if many and small, is enough, and when they find you won't give more, they agree.

Still you are then not quite safe. Having been "done" once or twice by express-men to a considerable amount, I, on one occasion, when leaving Denver, the capital of Colorado, made a bargain with an express-man to take my baggage to the rail for a certain sum. He brought it to the station, delivered to me what I supposed was all, and I had it duly "checked," as described. I then tendered him his payment; he asked half as much again, saying the amount agreed to was not enough. I objected. He replied, "I kept back one thing till you paid me; it is in the waggon outside, and I shall not give it up." I appealed to the rail officials; they answered curtly that it was no business of theirs, and that I had better go to the police. This was impossible, for the train was just leaving. I had my son with me, and I thought I could take it from his waggon by force, but there were many of his cla.s.s by, and I did not fancy a free fight. "Pay the money," said some one, "take his number and report him to the superintendent of police," and I thought this the better way and did so. I did report the case fully, and offered to return to Denver to prove it by my son's evidence, but the said superintendent was not even courteous enough to reply. The express-men are licensed by the police, and accountable to them, but many told me, e'er I wrote, I should get no redress, for unless prepared to spend money in the case I should not get a hearing. The law on every point is most lax in the States, for bribery and corruption are acknowledged on every side to be the rule, and cases promising no profit are pa.s.sed over. Still I must add the above was an exceptional case, I having always found the express-men act up to their bargains. I think, therefore, a bargain made with them will be completed.

But all this does not advance the journey from New Orleans to San Francisco. If you look them up on the map you will see how far they are apart--some 2500 miles as the crow flies, and by rail, say, 3000 miles. You traverse the states of Louisiana, Texas, a little of New Mexico, Arizona, and California. A state in America is, speaking generally and leaving out the smallest, as large as England, some much larger, twice as big. Thus it was no small journey; it took me five days' and nights' incessant travel by rail. But what must the distances in America have been before the days of railroads. Here in England, between the old waggon era and the rail time, we had an interregnum of coaches, which for speed were the best in the world.

Thus from one end of the kingdom to the other was then only an affair of three or four days. It was different in the United States. As far as I could ascertain there never had been a coaching-time, except for short distances. The long ones were done by waggons, at the rate of, say, fifteen miles a day, the pa.s.sengers sleeping in or under the said vehicles at night. From New York to California at that time took a good six months. It is now done by the direct route in something less than that number of days.

Louisiana, the first state we traversed on leaving New Orleans, is an uninteresting and swampy country, and must be very unhealthy. The vegetation is luxurious and semi-tropical. Mosquitoes exist in swarms. Some of the jungle we pa.s.sed through (it has that character) reminded me of the jungles in the south-east of Bengal. Louisiana cannot be a good state for emigrants.

Texas, the next, is very different. No swamps, indeed not much water.

Vast and interminable plains of gra.s.s, very thinly inhabited, and almost entirely dest.i.tute of trees. The soil in many parts seemed good; the climate, though hot, is not bad, and millions of emigrants might find homes here. This is the largest cattle-breeding state, and the ranches there are of enormous size. I have said much on this head previously, so we need not linger here.

New Mexico comes next. We only traversed a corner of this; it was all desert, and from this point, all through Arizona and well into California, there was nothing else as far as the eye could reach on either side but sand, sand, desert sand, and not a drop of water. If I remember right, we were nearly two days and nights traversing it. I was astonished beyond measure; I had read much about the United States, and I knew that there was a desert around Salt Lake, the abode of the Mormons, but I had never heard of any other. When later, both from what I saw and what was told me, I found that a very considerable part of the States is desert, I wondered more that such a great and important fact is not at all known in England, and that none of the numerous writers on America have brought it forward.[5]

In the following, I may in one or two cases be open to correction, but substantially I know I am right, for most cases are the result of my own experience.

A great, if not the best part of Arizona, Nebraska, Nevada, and Utah are mostly desert.

More or less of California and New Mexico are the same.

A small part of Daho and Texas may, I believe, be included, but my information on these is from hearsay.

There may be much more than the above. I cannot doubt, from what I have seen in the parts I traversed, that there is, but the above is enough to justify my a.s.sertion that "a very considerable part of the States is desert."

I would I could give a map here of the States with all the deserts painted yellow. No map extant delineates these vast wastes. I am afraid to hazard a guess what proportion the said painted parts would bear to the whole, but enough, I am sure, to make the reader wonder as I did.

How enormous these deserts are may be judged of by the fact that the four first states in the list above are together roughly about one third larger than France ... and that the far greater part of them, to say the least, are howling wastes!