Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Newburgh, on the Hudson, October 7
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made an end of me in the very beginning. I was
so weary of that first day’s labor in social life,
which lasted till long after midnight, and was so
much in want of rest and sleep, that I did not
believe it possible for me to set off from New
York at five o’clock the next morning. I told Mr.
Downing so, but he very decidedly, though mildly,
remarked: “Oh, we must endeavor to do it!” on
which I thought to myself, “These Americans
believe that everything is possible,” while feeling
at the same time that the plan was quite impracticable.
And yet at half past four the next morning
I was up, ready dressed, and hastening down to
place myself under the tyranny of Mr. Downing.
The carriage was already at the door, and seated
in it I found Miss [Anne] Lynch, whom Mr.
Downing had invited to pass the Sunday at his
house.
“Go ahead! New World!” cried the servant at
the door of the hotel to our driver; and we rolled
away down Broadway to the harbor, where the
big steamboat, the New World, received us on
board. This was really a little floating palace,
splendid and glittering with white and gold on the
outside, brilliant and elegant within; large saloons
and magnificent furniture, where ladies and gentlemen
reclined comfortably, talking or reading
the newspapers. I saw here none of Dickens’s
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