My own ticket was given me at once, and an oldish
man, who preserved his head in the midst of this tur-
moil, got my baggage registered, and counselled me to
stay quietly where I was till he should give me the word
to move. I had taken along with me a small valise, a
knapsack, which I carried on my shoulders, and in the
bag of my railway rug the whole of Bancrofts's History
of the United States, in six fat volumes. It was as
much as I could carry with convenience even for short
distances, but it insured me plenty of clothing, and the
valise was at that moment, and often after, useful for a
stool. I am sure I sat for an hour in the baggage-room,
and wretched enough it was; yet, when at last the word
was passed to me and I picked up my bundles and got
under way, it was only to exchange discomfort for down-
right misery and danger.

I followed the porters into a long shed reaching
downhill from West Street to the river. It was dark,
the wind blew clean through it from end to end; and
here I found a great block of passengers and baggage,
hundreds of one and tons of the other. I feel I shall
have a difficulty to make myself believed; and certainly
the scene must have been exceptional, for it was too
dangerous for daily repetition. It was a tight jam;
there was no fair way through the mingled mass of
brute and living obstruction. Into the upper skirts of
the crowd porters, infuriated by hurry and overwork,
clove their way with shouts. I may say that we stood
like sheep, and that the porters charged among us like
so many maddened sheep-dogs; and I believe these
men were no longer answerable for their acts. It
mattered not what they were carrying, they drove

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