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 Chapter IV                                           CHAPTER IV - AN AMERICAN RAILROAD.  LOWELL AND ITS FACTORY SYSTEM
 
 
 
 BEFORE leaving Boston, I devoted one day to an excursion to Lowell.  
 I assign a separate chapter to this visit; not because I am about 
 to describe it at any great length, but because I remember it as a 
 thing by itself, and am desirous that my readers should do the 
 same.
 
 I made acquaintance with an American railroad, on this occasion, 
 for the first time.  As these works are pretty much alike all 
 through the States, their general characteristics are easily 
 described.
 
 There are no first and second class carriages as with us; but there 
 is a gentleman's car and a ladies' car:  the main distinction 
 between which is that in the first, everybody smokes; and in the 
 second, nobody does.  As a black man never travels with a white 
 one, there is also a negro car; which is a great, blundering, 
 clumsy chest, such as Gulliver put to sea in, from the kingdom of 
 Brobdingnag.  There is a great deal of jolting, a great deal of 
 noise, a great deal of wall, not much window, a locomotive engine, 
 a shriek, and a bell.
 
 The cars are like shabby omnibuses, but larger:  holding thirty, 
 forty, fifty, people.  The seats, instead of stretching from end to 
 end, are placed crosswise.  Each seat holds two persons.  There is 
 a long row of them on each side of the caravan, a narrow passage up 
 the middle, and a door at both ends.  In the centre of the carriage 
 there is usually a stove, fed with charcoal or anthracite coal; 
 which is for the most part red-hot.  It is insufferably close; and 
 you see the hot air fluttering between yourself and any other 
 object you may happen to look at, like the ghost of smoke.
 
 In the ladies' car, there are a great many gentlemen who have 
 ladies with them.  There are also a great many ladies who have 
 nobody with them:  for any lady may travel alone, from one end of 
 the United States to the other, and be certain of the most 
 courteous and considerate treatment everywhere.  The conductor or 
 check-taker, or guard, or whatever he may be, wears no uniform.  He 
 walks up and down the car, and in and out of it, as his fancy 
 dictates; leans against the door with his hands in his pockets and 
 stares at you, if you chance to be a stranger; or enters into 
 conversation with the passengers about him.  A great many 
 newspapers are pulled out, and a few of them are read.  Everybody 
 talks to you, or to anybody else who hits his fancy.  If you are an 
 Englishman, he expects that that railroad is pretty much like an 
 English railroad.  If you say 'No,' he says 'Yes?' 
 (interrogatively), and asks in what respect they differ.  You 
 enumerate the heads of difference, one by one, and he says 'Yes?' 
 (still interrogatively) to each.  Then he guesses that you don't 
 travel faster in England; and on your replying that you do, says 
 'Yes?' again (still interrogatively), and it is quite evident, 
 don't believe it.  After a long pause he remarks, partly to you, 
 and partly to the knob on the top of his stick, that 'Yankees are 
 reckoned to be considerable of a go-ahead people too;' upon which 
 YOU say 'Yes,' and then HE says 'Yes' again (affirmatively this 
 time); and upon your looking out of window, tells you that behind 
 that hill, and some three miles from the next station, there is a 
 clever town in a smart lo-ca-tion, where he expects you have 
 concluded to stop.  Your answer in the negative naturally leads to 
 more questions in reference to your intended route (always 
 pronounced rout); and wherever you are going, you invariably learn 
 that you can't get there without immense difficulty and danger, and 
 that all the great sights are somewhere else.
 
 If a lady take a fancy to any male passenger's seat, the gentleman 
 who accompanies her gives him notice of the fact, and he 
 immediately vacates it with great politeness.  Politics are much 
 discussed, so are banks, so is cotton.  Quiet people avoid the 
 question of the Presidency, for there will be a new election in 
 three years and a half, and party feeling runs very high:  the 
 great constitutional feature of this institution being, that 
 directly the acrimony of the last election is over, the acrimony of 
 the next one begins; which is an unspeakable comfort to all strong 
 politicians and true lovers of their country:  that is to say, to 
 ninety-nine men and boys out of every ninety-nine and a quarter.
 
 Except when a branch road joins the main one, there is seldom more 
 than one track of rails; so that the road is very narrow, and the 
 view, where there is a deep cutting, by no means extensive.  When 
 there is not, the character of the scenery is always the same.  
 Mile after mile of stunted trees:  some hewn down by the axe, some 
 blown down by the wind, some half fallen and resting on their 
 neighbours, many mere logs half hidden in the swamp, others 
 mouldered away to spongy chips.  The very soil of the earth is made 
 up of minute fragments such as these; each pool of stagnant water 
 has its crust of vegetable rottenness; on every side there are the 
 boughs, and trunks, and stumps of trees, in every possible stage of 
 decay, decomposition, and neglect.  Now you emerge for a few brief 
 minutes on an open country, glittering with some bright lake or 
 pool, broad as many an English river, but so small here that it 
 scarcely has a name; now catch hasty glimpses of a distant town, 
 with its clean white houses and their cool piazzas, its prim New 
 England church and school-house; when whir-r-r-r! almost before you 
 have seen them, comes the same dark screen:  the stunted trees, the 
 stumps, the logs, the stagnant water - all so like the last that 
 you seem to have been transported back again by magic.
 
 The train calls at stations in the woods, where the wild 
 impossibility of anybody having the smallest reason to get out, is 
 only to be equalled by the apparently desperate hopelessness of 
 there being anybody to get in.  It rushes across the turnpike road, 
 where there is no gate, no policeman, no signal:  nothing but a 
 rough wooden arch, on which is painted 'WHEN THE BELL RINGS, LOOK 
 OUT FOR THE LOCOMOTIVE.'  On it whirls headlong, dives through the 
 woods again, emerges in the light, clatters over frail arches, 
 rumbles upon the heavy ground, shoots beneath a wooden bridge which 
 intercepts the light for a second like a wink, suddenly awakens all 
 the slumbering echoes in the main street of a large town, and 
 dashes on haphazard, pell-mell, neck-or-nothing, down the middle of 
 the road.  There - with mechanics working at their trades, and 
 people leaning from their doors and windows, and boys flying kites 
 and playing marbles, and men smoking, and women talking, and 
 children crawling, and pigs burrowing, and unaccustomed horses 
 plunging and rearing, close to the very rails - there - on, on, on 
 - tears the mad dragon of an engine with its train of cars; 
 scattering in all directions a shower of burning sparks from its 
 wood fire; screeching, hissing, yelling, panting; until at last the 
 thirsty monster stops beneath a covered way to drink, the people 
 cluster round, and you have time to breathe again.
 
 I was met at the station at Lowell by a gentleman intimately 
 connected with the management of the factories there; and gladly 
 putting myself under his guidance, drove off at once to that 
 quarter of the town in which the works, the object of my visit, 
 were situated.  Although only just of age - for if my recollection 
 serve me, it has been a manufacturing town barely one-and-twenty 
 years - Lowell is a large, populous, thriving place.  Those 
 indications of its youth which first attract the eye, give it a 
 quaintness and oddity of character which, to a visitor from the old 
 country, is amusing enough.  It was a very dirty winter's day, and 
 nothing in the whole town looked old to me, except the mud, which 
 in some parts was almost knee-deep, and might have been deposited 
 there, on the subsiding of the waters after the Deluge.  In one 
 place, there was a new wooden church, which, having no steeple, and 
 being yet unpainted, looked like an enormous packing-case without 
 any direction upon it.  In another there was a large hotel, whose 
 walls and colonnades were so crisp, and thin, and slight, that it 
 had exactly the appearance of being built with cards.  I was 
 careful not to draw my breath as we passed, and trembled when I saw 
 a workman come out upon the roof, lest with one thoughtless stamp 
 of his foot he should crush the structure beneath him, and bring it 
 rattling down.  The very river that moves the machinery in the 
 mills (for they are all worked by water power), seems to acquire a 
 new character from the fresh buildings of bright red brick and 
 painted wood among which it takes its course; and to be as light-
 headed, thoughtless, and brisk a young river, in its murmurings and 
 tumblings, as one would desire to see.  One would swear that every 
 'Bakery,' 'Grocery,' and 'Bookbindery,' and other kind of store, 
 took its shutters down for the first time, and started in business 
 yesterday.  The golden pestles and mortars fixed as signs upon the 
 sun-blind frames outside the Druggists',  appear to have been just 
 turned out of the United States' Mint; and when I saw a baby of 
 some week or ten days old in a woman's arms at a street corner, I 
 found myself unconsciously wondering where it came from:  never 
 supposing for an instant that it could have been born in such a 
 young town as that.
 
 There are several factories in Lowell, each of which belongs to 
 what we should term a Company of Proprietors, but what they call in 
 America a Corporation.  I went over several of these; such as a 
 woollen factory, a carpet factory, and a cotton factory:  examined 
 them in every part; and saw them in their ordinary working aspect, 
 with no preparation of any kind, or departure from their ordinary 
 everyday proceedings.  I may add that I am well acquainted with our 
 manufacturing towns in England, and have visited many mills in 
 Manchester and elsewhere in the same manner.
 
 I happened to arrive at the first factory just as the dinner hour 
 was over, and the girls were returning to their work; indeed the 
 stairs of the mill were thronged with them as I ascended.  They 
 were all well dressed, but not to my thinking above their 
 condition; for I like to see the humbler classes of society careful 
 of their dress and appearance, and even, if they please, decorated 
 with such little trinkets as come within the compass of their 
 means.  Supposing it confined within reasonable limits, I would 
 always encourage this kind of pride, as a worthy element of self-
 respect, in any person I employed; and should no more be deterred 
 from doing so, because some wretched female referred her fall to a 
 love of dress, than I would allow my construction of the real 
 intent and meaning of the Sabbath to be influenced by any warning 
 to the well-disposed, founded on his backslidings on that 
 particular day, which might emanate from the rather doubtful 
 authority of a murderer in Newgate.
 
 These girls, as I have said, were all well dressed:  and that 
 phrase necessarily includes extreme cleanliness.  They had 
 serviceable bonnets, good warm cloaks, and shawls; and were not 
 above clogs and pattens.  Moreover, there were places in the mill 
 in which they could deposit these things without injury; and there 
 were conveniences for washing.  They were healthy in appearance, 
 many of them remarkably so, and had the manners and deportment of 
 young women:  not of degraded brutes of burden.  If I had seen in 
 one of those mills (but I did not, though I looked for something of 
 this kind with a sharp eye), the most lisping, mincing, affected, 
 and ridiculous young creature that my imagination could suggest, I 
 should have thought of the careless, moping, slatternly, degraded, 
 dull reverse (I HAVE seen that), and should have been still well 
 pleased to look upon her.
 
 The rooms in which they worked, were as well ordered as themselves.  
 In the windows of some, there were green plants, which were trained 
 to shade the glass; in all, there was as much fresh air, 
 cleanliness, and comfort, as the nature of the occupation would 
 possibly admit of.  Out of so large a number of females, many of 
 whom were only then just verging upon womanhood, it may be 
 reasonably supposed that some were delicate and fragile in 
 appearance:  no doubt there were.  But I solemnly declare, that 
 from all the crowd I saw in the different factories that day, I 
 cannot recall or separate one young face that gave me a painful 
 impression; not one young girl whom, assuming it to be a matter of 
 necessity that she should gain her daily bread by the labour of her 
 hands, I would have removed from those works if I had had the 
 power.
 
 They reside in various boarding-houses near at hand.  The owners of 
 the mills are particularly careful to allow no persons to enter 
 upon the possession of these houses, whose characters have not 
 undergone the most searching and thorough inquiry.  Any complaint 
 that is made against them, by the boarders, or by any one else, is 
 fully investigated; and if good ground of complaint be shown to 
 exist against them, they are removed, and their occupation is 
 handed over to some more deserving person.  There are a few 
 children employed in these factories, but not many.  The laws of 
 the State forbid their working more than nine months in the year, 
 and require that they be educated during the other three.  For this 
 purpose there are schools in Lowell; and there are churches and 
 chapels of various persuasions, in which the young women may 
 observe that form of worship in which they have been educated.
 
 At some distance from the factories, and on the highest and 
 pleasantest ground in the neighbourhood, stands their hospital, or 
 boarding-house for the sick:  it is the best house in those parts, 
 and was built by an eminent merchant for his own residence.  Like 
 that institution at Boston, which I have before described, it is 
 not parcelled out into wards, but is divided into convenient 
 chambers, each of which has all the comforts of a very comfortable 
 home.  The principal medical attendant resides under the same roof; 
 and were the patients members of his own family, they could not be 
 better cared for, or attended with greater gentleness and 
 consideration.  The weekly charge in this establishment for each 
 female patient is three dollars, or twelve shillings English; but 
 no girl employed by any of the corporations is ever excluded for 
 want of the means of payment.  That they do not very often want the 
 means, may be gathered from the fact, that in July, 1841, no fewer 
 than nine hundred and seventy-eight of these girls were depositors 
 in the Lowell Savings Bank:  the amount of whose joint savings was 
 estimated at one hundred thousand dollars, or twenty thousand 
 English pounds.
 
 I am now going to state three facts, which will startle a large 
 class of readers on this side of the Atlantic, very much.
 
 Firstly, there is a joint-stock piano in a great many of the 
 boarding-houses.  Secondly, nearly all these young ladies subscribe 
 to circulating libraries.  Thirdly, they have got up among 
 themselves a periodical called THE LOWELL OFFERING, 'A repository 
 of original articles, written exclusively by females actively 
 employed in the mills,' - which is duly printed, published, and 
 sold; and whereof I brought away from Lowell four hundred good 
 solid pages, which I have read from beginning to end.
 
 The large class of readers, startled by these facts, will exclaim, 
 with one voice, 'How very preposterous!'  On my deferentially 
 inquiring why, they will answer, 'These things are above their 
 station.'  In reply to that objection, I would beg to ask what 
 their station is.
 
 It is their station to work.  And they DO work.  They labour in 
 these mills, upon an average, twelve hours a day, which is 
 unquestionably work, and pretty tight work too.  Perhaps it is 
 above their station to indulge in such amusements, on any terms.  
 Are we quite sure that we in England have not formed our ideas of 
 the 'station' of working people, from accustoming ourselves to the 
 contemplation of that class as they are, and not as they might be?  
 I think that if we examine our own feelings, we shall find that the 
 pianos, and the circulating libraries, and even the Lowell 
 Offering, startle us by their novelty, and not by their bearing 
 upon any abstract question of right or wrong.
 
 For myself, I know no station in which, the occupation of to-day 
 cheerfully done and the occupation of to-morrow cheerfully looked 
 to, any one of these pursuits is not most humanising and laudable.  
 I know no station which is rendered more endurable to the person in 
 it, or more safe to the person out of it, by having ignorance for 
 its associate.  I know no station which has a right to monopolise 
 the means of mutual instruction, improvement, and rational 
 entertainment; or which has ever continued to be a station very 
 long, after seeking to do so.
 
 Of the merits of the Lowell Offering as a literary production, I 
 will only observe, putting entirely out of sight the fact of the 
 articles having been written by these girls after the arduous 
 labours of the day, that it will compare advantageously with a 
 great many English Annuals.  It is pleasant to find that many of 
 its Tales are of the Mills and of those who work in them; that they 
 inculcate habits of self-denial and contentment, and teach good 
 doctrines of enlarged benevolence.  A strong feeling for the 
 beauties of nature, as displayed in the solitudes the writers have 
 left at home, breathes through its pages like wholesome village 
 air; and though a circulating library is a favourable school for 
 the study of such topics, it has very scant allusion to fine 
 clothes, fine marriages, fine houses, or fine life.  Some persons 
 might object to the papers being signed occasionally with rather 
 fine names, but this is an American fashion.  One of the provinces 
 of the state legislature of Massachusetts is to alter ugly names 
 into pretty ones, as the children improve upon the tastes of their 
 parents.  These changes costing little or nothing, scores of Mary 
 Annes are solemnly converted into Bevelinas every session.
 
 It is said that on the occasion of a visit from General Jackson or 
 General Harrison to this town (I forget which, but it is not to the 
 purpose), he walked through three miles and a half of these young 
 ladies all dressed out with parasols and silk stockings.  But as I 
 am not aware that any worse consequence ensued, than a sudden 
 looking-up of all the parasols and silk stockings in the market; 
 and perhaps the bankruptcy of some speculative New Englander who 
 bought them all up at any price, in expectation of a demand that 
 never came; I set no great store by the circumstance.
 
 In this brief account of Lowell, and inadequate expression of the 
 gratification it yielded me, and cannot fail to afford to any 
 foreigner to whom the condition of such people at home is a subject 
 of interest and anxious speculation, I have carefully abstained 
 from drawing a comparison between these factories and those of our 
 own land.  Many of the circumstances whose strong influence has 
 been at work for years in our manufacturing towns have not arisen 
 here; and there is no manufacturing population in Lowell, so to 
 speak:  for these girls (often the daughters of small farmers) come 
 from other States, remain a few years in the mills, and then go 
 home for good.
 
 The contrast would be a strong one, for it would be between the 
 Good and Evil, the living light and deepest shadow.  I abstain from 
 it, because I deem it just to do so.  But I only the more earnestly 
 adjure all those whose eyes may rest on these pages, to pause and 
 reflect upon the difference between this town and those great 
 haunts of desperate misery:  to call to mind, if they can in the 
 midst of party strife and squabble, the efforts that must be made 
 to purge them of their suffering and danger:  and last, and 
 foremost, to remember how the precious Time is rushing by.
 
 I returned at night by the same railroad and in the same kind of 
 car.  One of the passengers being exceedingly anxious to expound at 
 great length to my companion (not to me, of course) the true 
 principles on which books of travel in America should be written by 
 Englishmen, I feigned to fall asleep.  But glancing all the way out 
 at window from the corners of my eyes, I found abundance of 
 entertainment for the rest of the ride in watching the effects of 
 the wood fire, which had been invisible in the morning but were now 
 brought out in full relief by the darkness:  for we were travelling 
 in a whirlwind of bright sparks, which showered about us like a 
 storm of fiery snow.
 
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