were no horses!  How was this?  There was no “team,” we were told, for our coach!  I jumped out, and began to make diligent inquiry:  one told me one thing, and another another.  At length I learned that there was a “team” in the stable, but there was no driver disposed to go.  The one who should have taken us was cursing and swearing in bed, and would not get up.  This was provoking enough.  “Where is the agent of the stage-coach company?”—­“He lives about 47 miles off.”  “Where is the landlord of this house?”—­“He is in bed.”  There we were helpless and deserted on the highroad, between 12 and 1 o’clock, in an extremely cold night, without any redress or any opportunity of appeal!  It was nobody’s business to care for us.  I groped my way, however, to some outbuilding, where about half-a-dozen drivers were snoring in their beds, and, with the promise of making it “worth his while,” succeeded in inducing one of them to get up and take us to the next place for changing horses.  But before we could get off it was 2 o’clock in the morning.  We reached the next station, a distance of 10 miles, at 5 P.M., and paid our driver two dollars.  In America drivers are not accustomed to receive gratuities from passengers, but ours was a peculiar case.  After a most wearisome day of travel, being tossed about in the coach like balls, expecting every moment to be upset, and feeling bruised all over, we reached Cumberland at 9 P.M., having been 25 hours in getting over 73 miles, at the amazing rate of 3 miles an hour!  In Cumberland we had to stay all night.

At 8 A.M. the next day we set off by railway, or (as the Americans would say) “by the cars,” to Baltimore.  In committing my trunk to the luggage-van, I was struck with the simplicity and suitableness of the check system there adopted.  A piece of tin, with a certain number upon it, was fastened by a strap to each article of baggage, and a duplicate piece given to the passenger.  I also remarked the size, shape, and fittings-up of the cars.  They are from 30 to 50 feet long, having an aisle right through the middle from end to end, and on each side of that aisle rows of seats, each of sufficient length to accommodate two persons.  The arrangement reminded me of a little country meeting-house, the congregation amounting to from 50 to 100 persons.  Each carriage contained a stove,—­at that season a most important article of furniture.  The seats, which were very nicely cushioned, had their hacks so arranged as that the passengers could easily turn them as they pleased, and sit with either their faces or their backs “towards the horses” as they might feel disposed.  This part of the arrangement is indispensable, as these long carriages can never be turned.  The hind part in coming is the fore part in going, and vice versa.  The distinctions of first, second, and third class carriages are unknown.  That would be too aristocratic.  But the “niggers” must go into the luggage-van.  These republican carriages are very neatly fitted up, being mostly of mahogany with crimson velvet linings; but you often feel annoyed that such dirty people should get in.