Frances Trollope from Domestic Manners of the

Americans
I have never seen the bay of Naples, I can therefore make no comparison, but my
imagination is incapable of conceiving any thing of the kind more beautiful than the
harbour of New York. Various and lovely are the objects which meet the eye on
every side, but the naming them would only be to give a list of words, without
conveying the faintest idea of the scene. I doubt if ever the pencil of Turner could do
it justice, bright and glorious as it rose upon us. We seemed to enter the harbour of
New York upon waves of liquid gold, and as we darted past the green isles which
rise from its bosom, like guardian centinels of the fair city, the setting sun stretched
his horizontal beams farther and farther at each moment, as if to point out to us
some new glory in the landscape.
New York, indeed, appeared to us, even when we saw it by a soberer light, a lovely
and a noble city. To us who had been so long travelling through half-cleared forests,
and sojourning among an "I'm-as-good-as-you" population, it seemed, perhaps,
more beautiful, more splendid, and more refined than it might have done, had we
arrived there directly from London; but making every allowance for this, I must still
declare that I think New York one of the finest cities I ever saw, and as much
superior to every other in the Union (Philadelphia not excepted), as London to
Liverpool, or Paris to Rouen. Its advantages of position are, perhaps, unequalled any
where. Situated on an island, which I think it will one day cover, it rises, like Venice,
from the sea, and like that fairest of cities in the days of her glory, receives into its
lap tribute of all the riches of the earth.
The southern point of Manhatten Island divides the waters of the harbour into the
north and east rivers; on this point stands the city of New York, extending from river
to river, and running northward to the extent of three or four miles. I think it covers
nearly as much ground as Paris, but is much less thickly peopled. The extreme point
is fortified towards the sea by a battery, and forms an admirable point of defence; I
should suppose, no city could boast. From hence commences the splendid
Broadway, as the fine avenue is called, which runs through the whole city. This
noble street may vie with any I ever saw, for its length and breadth, its handsome
shops, neat awnings, excellent trottoir, and well-dressed pedestrians. It has not the
crowded glitter of Bond Street equipages, nor the gorgeous fronted palaces of
Regent Street; but it is magnificent in its extent, and ornamented by several
handsome buildings, some of them surrounded by grass and trees. The Park, in
which stands the noble city-hall, is a very fine area, I never found that the most
graphic description of a city could give me any feeling of being there; and even if
others have the power, I am very sure I have not, of setting churches and squares,
and long drawn streets, before the mind's eye. I will not, therefore, attempt a
detailed description of this great metropolis of the new world, but will only say that

during the seven weeks we stayed there, we always found something new to see
and to admire; and were it not so very far from all the old-world things which cling
about the heart of an European, I should say that I never saw a city more desirable
as a residence.
The dwelling houses of the higher classes are extremely handsome, and very richly
furnished. Silk or satin furniture is as often, or oftener, seen than chintz; the mirrors
are as handsome as in London; the cheffoniers, slabs, and marble tables as elegant;
and in addition, they have all the pretty tasteful decoration of French porcelaine,
and or-molu in much greater abundance, because at a much cheaper rate. Every
part of their houses is well carpeted, and the exterior finishing, such as steps,
railings, and door-frames, are very superior. Almost every house has handsome
green blinds on the outside; balconies are not very general, nor do the houses
display, externally, so many flowers as those of Paris and London; but I saw many
rooms decorated within, exactly like those of an European petite maitresse. Little
tables, looking and smelling like flower beds, portfolios, nick-nacks, bronzes, busts,
cameos, and alabaster vases, illustrated copies of ladylike rhymes bound in silk,
and, in short, all the pretty coxcomalities of the drawing-room scattered about with
the same profuse and studied negligence as with us.
Hudson Square and its neighbourhood is, I believe, the most fashionable part of the
town; the square is beautiful, excellently well planted with a great variety of trees,
and only wanting our frequent and careful mowing to make it equal to any square in
London. The iron railing which surrounds this enclosure is as high and as handsome
as that of the Tuilleries, and it will give some idea of the care bestowed on its
decoration, to know that the gravel for the walks was conveyed by barges from
Boston, not as ballast, but as freight.
The great defect in the houses is their extreme uniformity when you have seen one,
you have seen all. Neither do I quite like the arrangement of the rooms. In nearly all
the houses the dining and drawing rooms are on the same floor, with ample folding
doors between them; when thrown together they certainly make a very noble
apartment; but no doors can be barrier sufficient between dining and drawingrooms. Mixed dinner parties of ladies and gentlemen, however, are very rare, which
is a great defect in the society; not only as depriving them of the most social and
hospitable manner of meeting, but as leading to frequent dinner parties of
gentlemen without ladies, which certainly does not conduce to refinement.