Volume 2 — THE BALLOON.

TAUNTON.—COTTON MANUFACTURES.—POCASSETT.—RHODE ISLAND.

On arriving at Boston, I found the whole city in movement to assist, as the French say, in the ascent of a balloon, constructed by a Mr. Durant, already well known as an experienced and intrepid aëronaut.

Purchasing a ticket for the Amphitheatre, a lofty temporary enclosure with rows of seats running round it, I fell into the crowd, and made my way across the common at the extremity of which the building in question was situated.

Although the day was hot and bright, there was a very strong southerly wind blowing; and rolling away to the north-east, heavy masses of cloud passed over the sun like snow-drifts, promising a rapid flight for the balloon.

This common, flanked as it is by the finest residences of the city, the Bostonians often compare with our Hyde Park. Its surface is broken and irregular, and on this day the whole area was alive with expectant gazers; whilst the several lines of streets leading into it were thronged with hurrying reinforcements.

Selecting a point of vantage, I stood for some time examining the materials out of which this vast congregation was made up, and I have never seen a population whose general appearance would endure so close a scrutiny as well.

I computed that the women outnumbered their less attractive companions by at least a third: these were all in holiday trim, of course; invariably well dressed, but commonly having a pretension to taste and style I have never elsewhere observed so universally prevalent amongst the same class. The men, both in air and dress, were inferior to their female friends; so much so that it was difficult to imagine them belonging to the same order: and this remark, I think, will be found to apply generally throughout the Union.

It is not difficult to account for this discrepancy: a love of adornment is natural to women; the general prosperity which prevails here enables all classes to indulge a taste for dress, whilst the leisure enjoyed by females gives them facilities for acquiring those little aids by which gay attire is disposed and set off to the best advantage.

After a time I slowly made my way to the Amphitheatre, presented my ticket and was admitted within the enclosure, where the arrangements for the flight were in busy progress.

The inflation was nearly complete, and the huge machine rolled about from side to side uneasily abiding the restraint which alone prevented its immediate ascent. It was covered by the netting commonly used; and about this a number of volunteer assistants clung, restraining the balloon whilst the aëronaut made all his little arrangements.

The car was a small wicker basket; its cargo consisted of a few bags of sand for ballast, a barometer, and a couple of small kedges with lines to match. I had no idea a balloon could be brought up, all standing, by so small a cable.

I observed Mr. Durant devoted no small attention to the disposition of a little fellow-passenger he purposed giving a lift to,—a rabbit, muzzled and netted within a small basket, which, being appended to a parachute, was destined to come from aloft with the latest lunar intelligence. Chance, however, robbed the rabbit of the honour of performing this desperate service; for as the balloon was about to mount, the pipe bound within the neck of the valve was by some unlucky pull withdrawn, and, before this could be re-inserted, so much gas had escaped it became necessary to make a proportionate diminution in the freight. The rabbit was at once detached from the car, evidently chagrined at the disappointment, judging by the resistance it made; and several bags of ballast, together with such stores as might be best spared, were also discharged.

During all this time, and the bustle consequent upon the accident, Mr. Durant preserved the most admirable coolness; and, having stopped the leak, next set about repairing his fractured netting with infinite quickness and dexterity.

On a second attempt he rose in good style, loudly cheered by the spectators within the Amphitheatre; but no sooner had he cleared its wall than the shout of the people arose. Making a stoop almost to their heads, he discharged the greater part of the remaining ballast, and mounting again, was borne away to the eastward with great rapidity. The crowd dispersed immediately, but the whole afternoon was filled by the accounts constantly arriving of his route, and the probable result. Report was at an early hour brought that the machine had been seen to alight in the ocean, about sixteen miles north-east of Nahant, where it sank in sight of several schooners, taking its pilot down with it. Soon after it was affirmed that a Portland steamer had rescued the man, and that the balloon alone was drowned.

In this state of uncertainty the public continued until about nine o'clock next morning, at which hour Mr. Durant walked into the hall of the Tremont, where numbers of persons were arguing his probable fate. After the greeting of his friends was over, he gave a very particular and interesting account of the peril he had been rescued from. It appeared that the aërial part of his voyage had terminated, as was reported, in the Atlantic, some miles off Nahant. Sustained by an inflated girdle, he hung on to the balloon, and was dragged after it at no small rate for some time, until a schooner falling in with this strange sail, gave chase, and overhauled the queer craft.

As soon as the schooner got alongside, a line was flung to the aëronaut, which he, solicitous to save his machine as well as himself, made fast to the car, and bade them hoist away: the first hearty pull lifted the balloon from the waves, when, the wind catching it, up it mounted. The line to which it was fastened chanced to be the topsail halliards; and whisk! before a belay could be passed, up flew poor Mr. Durant high over the vessel's mast; after hanging on for a moment, his strength failed, and down he plumped from an elevation of some hundred and fifty feet back into the sea. How deep he dived, or for what length of time he remained below amongst the codling, he did not say, not having calculated "the sum of his sensation to a second:" but he readily "guessed" he would no-how admire such another tumble. His resolution, however, was nothing abated; for he immediately began to repair his balloon, and make ready for a new "sail i' the air."

The day following the return of the adventurous balloonist, I left Boston, accompanied by my friend Captain B——n, taking the land route for Newport, Rhode Island. Our vehicle was a Jersey waggon, with a couple of capital ponies; we started early, breakfasted at a good road-side inn, and reached the town of Taunton about mid-day, where we halted to let the heat of the sun pass over, and dine.

We took a stroll about the little town, which is famous for its cotton manufactures; and were pleased to observe every symptom of prosperity that might be outwardly exhibited,—a well-dressed population, houses remarkably clean and neat, with much bustle in the streets. The military mania, which pervades the whole country, we also saw here exhibited in a way really quite amusing, and by a class to whom it would be well were it confined, since the display was more becoming in them than in any less precocious corps of volunteers I remember to have seen.

Whilst standing in the shade of our hotel, the rattle of drums gave note of some display of war; an event of daily occurrence during this season of the year throughout these northern States, where playing at soldiers is one of the choicest amusements. Captain B——n asked a stander-by what volunteer corps was parading to-day: "Why, I don't rightly know; but I guess it may be the Taunton Juvenile Democratic Lancers."

Our informant was quite right; for whilst, puzzled by the gravity of the man, I was considering whether or no he meant a hoax by the style which he bestowed upon the gallant corps, into the square it marched, with drums beating and colours flying. The colonel commanding was a smart little fellow, about twelve years old, dressed in a fancy uniform jacket, and ample linen cossacks; his regiment mustered about forty rank and file, independent of a numerous and efficient staff: they were in full uniform; most of them were about the colonel's age, some of the cornets perhaps a trifle younger, as became their station; they were armed with lances; and their motto was most magnanimous, being all about glory, death, liberty, and democracy. Nothing could be more steady than the movements of this corps on foot; and, when mounted, I have no doubt they prove as highly efficient a body as any volunteer lancer cavalry in the Union.

This could not be called "teaching the young idea how to shoot," since the corps only bore l'arme blanche; but it was highly creditable to the waggery of the citizens of Taunton, and the most efficient burlesque upon the volunteer system I had yet seen, although I have encountered many more elaborately gotten up.

Whilst we were devising some means of visiting the principal manufactory, a gentleman entered our room, and introducing himself said, that, having recognised me in the street, he had called to know if he could be of any service in showing myself and friend the only lions of the place,—its manufactories.

This act of politeness, which I have found a common occurrence in every part of the Union, at once relieved us from our difficulty, and off we set in company with our civil guide to visit the largest depôt of the place.

The designs of the printed cottons, and the colours, both struck me as being exceedingly good; in texture, however, I did not conceive any of the cloths equal to similar stuffs which I had seen at home in manufacturing towns. One of the partners informed me that they supplied large quantities of goods to the markets both of India and of South America: the manufacturer's chief drawback, he said, was found in the cost of labour; indeed, judging by the dress and neat appearance of the young women employed here, they must be exceedingly well paid: a comparison drawn between them and the same class of employées in England would be singularly in favour of the Taunton "Maids of the Mill."

The cool time of the day being come, we once more had our active ponies put to, and away they went as eager to "go a-head" as on our first start. From this place to Pocassett the ride was lovely: our road lay high above the river; and, over the luxuriant foliage, topsail-schooners, large sloops, and other craft, were seen working their different courses, some bound up, others to Providence, Newport, or the ports on the coast.

A few miles from the town we came upon a small clearing by the road-side, evidently in use as a place of burial, and nothing ever struck me as more neglected; a few decayed boards, with an ill-shaped falling head-stone or two, were all the prosperous living had bestowed upon their departed kindred. This neglect of those little decencies with which, amongst most people, places of sepulture are surrounded, is a thing of common observance in this part of the Union, and is one of the reproaches readily noticeable by all strangers. The distinction in this respect between the North and South is remarkable, and highly creditable to the feelings of the latter.

By the time we reached Pocassett it was nearly dark, and here we settled for the night, having driven the ponies fifty odd miles, without their being in the least distressed, and on a day of no ordinary fervor.

In the evening we attended a book sale, and were much amused by the volubility and humour of the Yankee salesman, who, with his coat off in a close crowded room, lectured upon the merits of the authors he offered, whether poetical, religious, historical, mathematical, or political, with equal ease and grace, greatly to the edification of the bystanders. The editions were chiefly American, made to sell, and thus exceedingly cheap. History and novels appeared to be the literature in demand; and Walter Scott, Byron, and Bulwer, the names most familiar in the verbal catalogue galloped over by the "learned gentleman," as our auctioneer advertisements have it.

The hotel here was remarkably neat and clean; we procured an excellent cup of tea, and next morning found a most substantial breakfast. After seeing the population assemble for church, and walking about the banks of the river, which are very beautiful, we about noon set out for our final destination, over a villanous, rough road, reached Rhode Island, by the long substantial causeway connecting it with the main land, and from this point we had a good turnpike, pulling up at Newport by two o'clock.

The public dinner was already over, being Sabbath; but the proprietor of our hotel, a worthy Quaker named Potter, got us a very comfortable meal at five o'clock, according to our wishes: meantime we rid ourselves of the accumulated dust of two days, and were comfortably established in out-quarters, the hotel being full.