Historic Highways of America Volume XI Part 2

"A wagoner, next to a stagecoach-driver, was a man of immense importance, and they were inclined to be clannish. They would not hesitate to unite against landlord, stage-driver or coachman who might cross their path, as in a case when a wedding party was on its way to Philadelphia, which consisted of several gigs. These were two-wheeled conveyances, very similar to our road-carts of the present day, except that they were much higher and had large loop springs in the rear just back of the seat; they were the fas.h.i.+onable conveyance of that day. When one of the gentlemen drivers, the foremost one (possibly the groom), was paying more attention to his fair companion than his horses, he drove against the leaders of one of the numerous wagons that were pa.s.sing on in the same direction. It was an unpardonable offense and nothing short of an encounter in the stable yard or in front of the hotel could atone for such a breach of highway ethics. At a point where the party stopped to rest before continuing their journey the wagoners overtook them and they immediately called on the gentleman for redress. But seeing a friend in the party they claimed they would excuse the culprit on his friend's account; the offending party would not have it so, and said no friend of his should excuse him from getting a beating if he deserved it, and I have no doubt he prided himself on his muscular abilities also. However it was peaceably arranged and each pursued his way without any blood being shed or bones broken. That was one of the many similar occurrences which happened daily, many not ending so harmlessly.

"The stage lines were not only the means of conveying the mails and pa.s.sengers, but of also disseminating the news of great events along the line as they pa.s.sed. The writer remembers hearing it stated that the stage came through from Philadelphia with a wide band of white muslin bound around the top, and in large letters was the announcement that peace had been declared, which was the closing of the second war with Great Britain, known as the War of 1812. What rejoicing it caused along the way as it pa.s.sed!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: EARLIEST STYLE OF LOG TAVERN]

The taverns of this old turnpike were typical. Of them Mr. Moore writes:

"Independent of the heavy freighting, numerous stage lines were organized for carrying pa.s.sengers. As a result of this immense traffic, hotels sprung up all along the road, where relays of horses were kept, and where pa.s.sengers were supplied with meals. Here, too, the teamsters found lodging and their animals were housed and cared for over night.

The names of these hotels were characteristic of the times. Many were called after men who had borne conspicuous parts in the Revolutionary War that had just closed--such as Was.h.i.+ngton, Warren, Lafayette, and Wayne, while others represented the White and Black Horse, the Lion, Swan, Cross Keys, s.h.i.+p, etc. They became favorite resorts for citizens of their respective neighborhoods, who wished at times to escape from the drudge and ennui of their rural homes and gaze upon the world as represented by the das.h.i.+ng stages and long lines of Conestoga wagons.

Here neighbor met neighbor--it was the little sphere in which they all moved, lived and had their being. They sipped their whisky toddies together, which were dispensed at the rate of three cents a single gla.s.s, or for a finer quality, five for a Spanish quarter, with the landlord in, was asked; smoked cigars that were retailed four for a cent--discussed their home affairs, including politics, religion and other questions of the day, and came just as near settling them, as the present generation of men, that are filling their places, required large supplies and made convenient home markets for the sale of b.u.t.ter, eggs, and whatever else the farmers had to dispose of."

In our history of the c.u.mberland Road the difference between a wagonhouse and a tavern was emphasized. Mr. Witmer gives an incident on the Lancaster Turnpike which presents vividly the social position of these two houses of entertainment: "It was considered a lasting disgrace for one of the stage taverns to entertain a wagoner and it was sure to lose the patronage of the better cla.s.s of travel, should this become known. The following instance will show how carefully the line was drawn. In the writer's native village, about ten miles east of this city [Lancaster], when the traffic was unusually heavy and all the wagon taverns were full, a wagoner applied to the proprietor of the stage hotel for shelter and refreshment, and after a great deal of consideration on his part and persuasion on the part of the wagoner he consented, provided the guest would take his departure early in the morning, before there was any likelihood of any aristocratic arrivals, or the time for the stage to arrive at this point. As soon as he had taken his departure the hostlers and stable boys were put to work to clean up every vestige of straw or litter in front of the hotel that would be an indication of having entertained a wagoner over night!"

The later history of the turnpike has been sketched by Mr. Moore as follows:

"The turnpike company had enjoyed an uninterrupted era of prosperity for more than twenty-five years. During this time the dividends paid had been liberal--sometimes, it is said, exceeding fifteen per cent of the capital invested. But at the end of that time the parasite that destroys was gradually being developed. Another, and altogether new system of transportation had been invented--a railroad--and which had already achieved partial success in some places in Europe. It was about the year 1820 that this new method of transportation began to claim the serious attention of the progressive business men throughout the state.

The feeling that some better system than the one in use must be found was fed and intensified by the fact that New York State was then constructing a ca.n.a.l from Albany to the lakes; that when completed it would give the business men of New York City an unbroken water route to the west....

"With the completion of the entire Pennsylvania ca.n.a.l system to Pittsburg, in 1834, the occupation of the famous old Conestoga teams was gone.[18] The same may also be said of the numerous lines of the stages that daily wended their way over the turnpike. The changes wrought were almost magical. Everyone who rode patronized the cars; and the freight was also forwarded by rail. The farmers, however, were not ruined as they had maintained they would be. Their horses, as well as drivers, were at once taken into the railway service and employed in drawing cars from one place to another. It was simply a change of vocation, and there still remained a market for grain, hay, straw and other produce of the farm.

"The loss sustained by the holders of turnpike stock, however, was immeasurable. In a comparative sense, travel over the turnpike road was suspended. Receipts from tolls became very light and the dividends, when paid, were not only quite diminutive, but very far between.

"The officers of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company have always been noted for their foresight, as well as shrewdness in protecting the business interests of their organization--and none have given more substantial evidence of these traits than its present chief officer, Mr.

Alexander Ca.s.satt. In the year 1876 the horse cars had been extended as far west as the Centennial buildings and it became apparent in a year or two thereafter that they might be still further extended over the turnpike in the direction of Paoli and thus become an annoying compet.i.tor for the local travel, which had been carefully nurtured and built up by the efforts of the railroad company. Under the leaders.h.i.+p of Mr. Ca.s.satt a company was organized to purchase the road. When all the preliminaries had been arranged a meeting of the subscribers to the purchasing fund was held on the twentieth day of April, 1880. The turnpike was purchased from Fifty-second Street to Paoli, about seventeen miles, for the sum of twenty thousand dollars. In the following June a charter was secured for the 'Lancaster Avenue Improvement Company,' and Mr. Ca.s.satt was chosen president. The horse railroad was thus shut off from a further extension over the old turnpike. The new purchasers rebuilt the entire seventeen miles and there is today probably no better macadam road in the United States, nor one more scrupulously maintained than by 'The Lancaster Avenue Improvement Company.' Some parts of the turnpike road finally became so much out of repair that the traveling public refused to longer pay the tolls demanded. This was the case on that portion of the road lying between Paoli and Exton, a distance of some eight and a half miles. It traversed parts of the towns.h.i.+ps of Willistown and East and West Whiteland, in Chester County and upon notice of abandonment being served in 1880 upon the supervisors of these towns.h.i.+ps, those officials a.s.sumed the future care of the road. The turnpike was also abandoned from the borough of Coatesville to the Lancaster County line, a distance of about eight and one-half miles. This left only that portion of the turnpike lying between Exton station and the borough of Coatesville, a distance of some ten miles, under control of the old company, and upon which tollgates were maintained. The road was in a wretched repair and many persons driving over it refused to pay when tolls were demanded. The company, however, continued to employ collectors and gather shekels from those who were willing to pay and suffering those to pa.s.s who refused.

"Thus the old company worried along and maintained its organization until 1899, when the 'Philadelphia and West Chester Traction Company,'

made its appearance. This company thought it saw an opportunity to extend the railroad west over the turnpike at least as far as Downingtown, and possibly as far as the borough of Coatesville. Terms were finally agreed upon with the president of the Turnpike Company, and all the rights, t.i.tles and interests in the road then held by the original Turnpike Company, and which embraced that portion lying between Exton and the borough of Coatesville, were transferred to Mr. A. M.

Taylor, as trustee, for ten dollars per share. The original issue was twelve hundred shares. It was estimated that at least two hundred shares would not materialize, being either lost or kept as souvenirs. The length of the road secured was about ten miles. The disposition of the old road may be enumerated as follows:

SOLD

To Hestonville Railroad 3 $10,000 To Lancaster and Williamstown Turnpike Company 15 10,000 To Lancaster Avenue Improvement Company 17 20,000 To A. M. Taylor, trustee (estimated) 10 10,000 -- ------ Total miles sold 45 Total purchase money received $50,000

ABANDONED

Paoli to Exton 8-1/2 Coatesville to Lancaster Company line 8-1/2 ------ Total miles abandoned 17

"The distance from Coatesville to Philadelphia, via Whitford, a station on the Pennsylvania Railroad ten miles east of Coatesville, thence to West Chester and over the electric road, is somewhat less than by the Pennsylvania Railroad. Immediately after the purchase, Mr. Taylor announced that it was the intention of his company to extend their road to Downingtown, and, possibly, to Coatesville. But a charter for a trolley road does not carry with it the right of eminent domain. Upon investigation, Mr. Taylor discovered that the Pennsylvania Railroad Company owned property on both sides of the purchased turnpike, and that without the consent of that organization a trolley road could not be laid over the turnpike. He further discovered that at a point west of Downingtown the railroad company, in connection with one of its employees, owned a strip of land extending from the Valley Hill on the north to the Valley Hill on the south. The proposed extension of the trolley road, therefore, had to be abandoned.

"As the turnpike road could not be used by the new purchasers for the purposes intended, it was a useless and annoying piece of property in their hands. A pet.i.tion has already [1901] been filed in the Court of Quarter Sessions of Chester County looking toward having the road condemned. Judge Hemphill has appointed jurors to view the said turnpike road and fix the damages that may be due the present owners. Whatever damages may finally be agreed upon the county of Chester must pay, and the supervisors of the different towns.h.i.+ps through which the road pa.s.ses will thereafter a.s.sume its care. This will probably be the last official act in which the t.i.tle of the old organization will partic.i.p.ate. 'Men may come and men may go,' and changes be made both in owners.h.i.+p and purposes of use, but whatever the future may have in store for this grand old public highway, the basic principle will always be: 'The Old Philadelphia and Lancaster Turnpike;' and as such forever remain a lasting monument to the courageous, progressive, and patriotic men whose capital entered into and made its construction possible."

The princ.i.p.al rivals of the macadamized roads were the plank roads. The first plank road in America was built at Toronto, Canada, in 1835-36, during Sir Francis Bond Head's governors.h.i.+p. It was an experiment and one Darcy Boulton is said to have been the originator of the plan.[18*]

In 1837 this method of road-building was introduced into the United States, Syracuse, New York, possessing the first plank road this side the Canadian border. In fifteen years there were two thousand one hundred and six miles of these roads in New York State alone, and the system had spread widely through the more prosperous and energetic states. Usually these roads were single-track, the track being built on the left hand side of the roadway; the latter became known as the "turn-out." The planks, measuring eight inches by three, were laid on stringers, these, in turn, resting on a more or less elaborately made bed. The average cost of plank roads in New York was a trifle less than two thousand dollars per mile. It will be remembered that the c.u.mberland Road cost on the average over ten thousand dollars per mile in Maryland and Pennsylvania, and three thousand four hundred dollars per mile west of the Ohio River. Its estimated cost per mile, without bridging, was six thousand dollars. It was natural, therefore, that plank roads should become popular--for the country was still a "wooden country," as the pioneers said. It was argued that the cost was "infinitely less--that it [plank road] is easier for the horse to draw upon--and that such a road costs less for repairs and is more durable than a Macadam road.... On the Salina and Central road, a few weeks back, for a wager, a team [two horses] brought in, without any extraordinary strain, six tons of iron from Brewerton, a distance of twelve miles, to Syracuse [New York]....

Indeed, the farmer does not seem to make any calculations of the weight taken. He loads his wagon as best he can, and the only care is not to exceed the quant.i.ty which it will carry; whether the team can draw the load, is not a consideration...." Such arguments prevailed in the day when timber was considered almost a nuisance, and plank roads spread far and wide.

Few who were acquainted with primitive conditions have left us anything vivid in the way of descriptions of roads and road-making. "The pioneers of our State," wrote Calvin Fletcher, in an exceedingly interesting paper read before the Indiana Centennial a.s.sociation, July 4, 1900, "found Indian trails, which, with widening, proved easy lines of travel.

Many of these afterward became fixtures through use, improvement, and legislation.... Next to the hearty handshake and ready lift at the handspike, where neighbors swapped work at log-rollings, was the greeting when, at fixed periods, all able-bodied men met to open up or work upon the roads. My child-feet pattered along many of the well-constructed thoroughfares of today when they were only indistinct tracings--long lines of deadened trees, deep-worn horse paths, and serpentine tracks of wabbling wagon wheels. The ever-recurring road-working days and their cheerful observance, with time's work in rotting and fire's work in removing dead tree and stump, at last let in long lines of suns.h.i.+ne to dry up the mud, to burn up the miasma, and to bless the wayfarer to other parts, as well as to disclose what these pioneer road-makers had done for themselves by opening up fields in the forests.... To perfect easily and naturally these industries requires three generations. The forests must be felled, logs rolled and burned, families reared, and in most cases the land to be paid for. When this is accomplished a faithful picture would reveal not only the changes that had been wrought, but a host of prematurely broken down men and women, besides an undue proportion resting peacefully in country graveyards. A second generation straightens out the fields at odd corners, pulls the stumps, drains the wet spots, and casting aside the sickle of their father, swings the cradle over broader fields; and even trenches upon the plans of the third generation by pus.h.i.+ng the claim of the reaper, the mower and the thresher.... The labor of the three generations in road-making I cla.s.s as follows: To the first generation belonged locating the roads and the clearing the timber from them. The wet places would become miry and were repaired by the use of logs.... The roots and stumps caused many holes, called chuck holes, which were repaired by using brush and dirt--with the uniform result that at each end of the corduroy or brush repairs, a new mud or chuck hole would be formed in time; and thus until timber and brush became exhausted did the pioneer pave the way for the public and himself to market, to court, and to elections. The second generation discovered a value in the inexhaustible beds of gravel in the rivers and creeks, as well as beneath the soil.

Roadbeds were thrown up, and the side ditches thus formed contributed to sound wheeling. Legislation tempted capital to invest and tollgates sprang up until the third generation removed them and a.s.sumed the burden of large expenditures from public funds for public benefit.

"And thus have pa.s.sed away the nightmare of the farmer, the traveller, the mover and the mail-carrier--a nightmare that prevailed nine months of the year.... An experience of a trip from Indianapolis to Chicago in March, 1848, by mail stage is pertinent. It took the first twenty-four hours to reach Kirklin, in Boone County; the next twenty-four to Logansport, the next thirty-six to reach South Bend. A rest then of twenty-four hours on account of high water ahead; then thirty-six hours to Chicago--five days of hard travel in mud or on corduroy, or sand....

In the summer pa.s.senger coaches went through, but when wet weather came the mud wagon was used to carry pa.s.sengers and mail, and when the mud became too deep the mail was piled into crates, canvas-covered, and hauled through. This was done also on the National [c.u.mberland], the Madison, the Cincinnati, the Lafayette and the Bloomington Roads."

The _corvee_, or required work on the roads of France, has been given as one of the minor causes of the social unrest which reached its climax in the French Revolution. American peasants had no such hards.h.i.+p according to an anonymous rhymester:

Oh, our life was tough and tearful, and its toil was often fearful, And often we grew faint beneath the load.

But there came a glad vacation and a sweet alleviation, When we used to work our tax out on the road.

When we used to work our tax out, then we felt the joys of leisure, And we felt no more the p.r.i.c.k of labor's goad; Then we shared the golden treasure of sweet rest in fullest measure, When we used to work our tax out on the road.

The macadam and plank roads saw the Indian trail at its widest and best.

The railway has had a tendency to undo even such advances over pioneer roads as came in the heyday of macadam and plank roads. We have been going backward since 1840 rather than forward. The writer has had long acquaintance with what was, in 1830, the first turnpike in Ohio--the Warren and Ashtabula Road; it was probably a far better route in 1830 than in 1900. By worrying the horse you can not make more than four miles an hour over many parts of it. One ought to go into training preparatory to a carriage drive over either the c.u.mberland or the Pennsylvania road across the Alleghenies. As the trail was widened it grew better, but once at its maximum width it was eclipsed as an avenue by the railway and, exceptions aside, has since 1850 deteriorated. Every foot added in width, however, has contained a lesson in American history; every road, as we have said, indicates a need; and the wider the road, it may be added, the greater the need. An expanding nation, in a moment's time, burst westward through these narrow trails, and left them standing as open roadways. Few material objects today suggest to our eyes this marvelous movement. These old routes with their many winding tracks, the ponderous bridges and sagging mile-posts,[19] are relics of those momentous days.

CHAPTER II

A PILGRIM ON THE PENNSYLVANIA ROAD

The following chapter is from Francis Baily's volume, _A Journal of a Tour in Unsettled Parts of North America_. It is an account of a journey in 1796 from Philadelphia to Pittsburg over the Pennsylvania road treated of in Volume V of this series. Francis Baily was an English scientist of very great reputation. It is to be doubted whether there is another account of a journey as far west as Mr. Baily's record takes us (Cincinnati, Ohio) written at so early a date by an equally famous foreign scholar and scientist.

The route pursued was the old state road begun in 1785 running through Pennsylvania from Chambersburg, Bedford, and Greensburg to Pittsburg.

Mr. Baily's itinerary is by ancient taverns, most of which have pa.s.sed from recollection.

From Pittsburg he went with a company of pioneers down the Ohio River to their new settlement near Cincinnati. In his experiences with these friends he gives us a vivid picture of pioneer travel north of the Ohio River.

"There being no turnpikes in America, the roads are, of course, very bad in winter, though excellent in summer. I waited at Baltimore near a week before I could proceed on my journey, the roads being rendered impa.s.sable. There is, at present, but one turnpike-road on the continent, which is between Lancaster and Philadelphia,[20] a distance of sixty-six miles, and is a masterpiece of its kind; it is paved with stone the whole way, and overlaid with gravel, so that it is never obstructed during the most severe season. This practice is going to be adopted in other parts of that public-spirited state [Pennsylvania], though none of the other states have yet come into the measure.

"From Baltimore to Philadelphia are ninety-eight miles; between which places there is no want of conveyance, as there are three or four stages run daily. In one of these I placed myself on the morning of _March 3rd, 1796_. A description of them perhaps would be amusing. The body of the carriage is closed in, about breast high; from the sides of which are raised six or eight small perpendicular posts, which support a covering--so that it is in fact a kind of open coach. From the top are suspended leather curtains, which may be either drawn up in fine weather, or let down in rainy or cold weather; and which b.u.t.ton at the bottom. The inside is fitted up with four seats, placed one before the other; so that the whole of the pa.s.sengers face the horses; each seat will contain three pa.s.sengers; and the driver sits on the foremost, under the same cover with the rest of the company. The whole is suspended on springs; and the way to get into it is _in front_, as if you were getting into a covered cart. This mode of travelling, and which is the only one used in America, is very pleasant as you enjoy the country much more agreeably than when imprisoned in a close coach, inhaling and exhaling the same air a thousand times over, like a cow chewing the cud; but then it is not quite so desirable in disagreeable weather.[21]

"We had not proceeded far on our journey before we began to encounter some of those inconveniences to which every person who travels in this country _in winter time_ is exposed. The roads, which in general were very bad, would in some places be impa.s.sable, so that we were obliged to get out and walk a considerable distance, and sometimes to 'put our shoulders to the wheel;' and this in the most unpleasant weather, as well as in the midst of mire and dirt. However, we did manage to get twelve miles to breakfast; and after that, to a little place called Bush, about thirteen miles farther, to dinner; and about nine o'clock at night we came to _Havre de Grace_, about twelve miles further, to supper; having walked nearly half the way up to our ancles in mud, in a most inclement season. Havre de Grace is a pretty little place, most delightfully situated on the banks of the Susquehannah river, which at this place is about a quarter of a mile broad; it is about a couple of miles above the mouth of the river, where it empties into the Chesapeak Bay; a fine view of which you have from the town. An excellent tavern is kept here by Mr. Barney ... and which is frequented by parties in the shooting season, for the sake of the wild fowl with which the Susquehannah so plentifully abounds; the canva.s.s-back, a most delicious bird, frequents this river.... Next morning we got ferried across the river, and, breakfasting at the tavern on the other side, proceeded on our journey, encountering the same difficulties we had done the preceding day. About three miles from Barney's is a little place, called Principio, situated in a highly romantic country, where there is a large foundry for cannon and works for boring them, situated in a valley surrounded by a heap of rocks; the wheels of the works are turned by a stream of water running over some of these precipices. About three miles from this is another delightful place, called Charleston; I mean with respect to its _situation_; as to the town itself, it does not seem to improve at all, at which I very much wonder, as it is most advantageously situated at the head of the Chesapeak, of which and the country adjoining it commands a full and most charming view. We got about nine miles farther, to a town called Elkton, to dinner. This place has nothing in it to attract the attention of travellers. I shall therefore pa.s.s it by, to inform you that we intended getting to Newport, about eighteen miles, to sleep. It was four o'clock before we started; and we had not proceeded far on these miserable roads, ere night overtook us; and, as the fates would have it, our unlucky coachman drove us into a miry bog; and, in spite of all our endeavours, we could not get the coach out again; we were therefore obliged to _leave it there, with the whole of the baggage, all night_; and were driven to the necessity of seeking our way in the dark to the nearest house, which was about a mile and a half off; there, getting ourselves cleaned and a good supper, we went to bed. Next morning we found everything just as we left it; and, getting another coach, we proceeded on our journey, and, dining at Chester, got to Philadelphia about nine o'clock in the evening, completely tired of our ride, having been three days and three nights on the road.

"I would not have been thus particular, but I wished to give you a specimen of the American mode of travelling, though you will understand that these difficulties are to be met with only at that season of the year when the frost breaks up, and the roads get sadly out of order; for in summer time nothing can be more agreeable, expeditious, and pleasant.

The fare from Baltimore to Philadelphia is 6 dollars, or 27s., and the customary charges on the road are 1/2 dollar for breakfast, 1 dollar for dinner, wine not included, 1/2 dollar for supper, and 1/4 dollar for beds. These are their general prices, and they charge the same whatever they provide for you. By this, you will observe that travelling in these settled parts of the country is about as expensive as in England.

"The country between Baltimore and Philadelphia is of a _clayey_ nature, mixed with a kind of gravel; yet still, in the hands of a skilful farmer, capable of yielding good produce. The land on each side of the road, and back into the country, was pretty well cultivated, and (though winter) bore marks of industry and economy. Hedges are not frequent; but instead of them they place split logs angular-wise on each other, making what they call a "worm fence," and which is raised about five feet high.

This looks very slovenly, and, together with the stumps of trees remaining in all the new-cleared plantations, is a great _desight_ to the scenery of the country.... From Newark to New York is about nine miles, and the greatest part of the road is over a large swamp, which lies between and on each side of the Pasaik and Hackinsac rivers. Over this swamp they have made a causeway, which trembles the whole way as you go over it,[22] and shows how far the genius and industry of man will triumph over natural impediments.

"To New York, which is ninety-six miles from Philadelphia, we were a day and a half in coming. The roads were not so bad as when we came from Baltimore. Our fare was 6 dollars, and the charges on the road the same as between Baltimore and Philadelphia:--viz., 1/2 dollar breakfast, 1 dollar dinner, 1/2 dollar supper, and 1/4 dollar lodging.... The inhabitants of New York are very fond of music, dancing, and plays; an attainment to excellence in the former has been considerably promoted by the frequent musical societies and concerts which are held in the city, many of the inhabitants being very good performers. As to dancing, there are two a.s.sembly-rooms in the city, which are pretty well frequented during the winter season; private b.a.l.l.s are likewise not uncommon. They have two theatres, one of which is lately erected, and is capable of containing a great number of persons; there is an excellent company of comedians, who perform here in the winter. But the amus.e.m.e.nt of which they seem most pa.s.sionately fond is that of sleighing, which is riding on the snow in what _you_ call _a sledge_, drawn by two horses. It is astonis.h.i.+ng to see how anxiously persons of all ages and both s.e.xes look out for a good fall of snow, that they may enjoy their favourite amus.e.m.e.nt; and when the happy time comes, to see how eager they are to engage every sleigh that is to be hired. Parties of twenty or thirty will sometimes go out of town in these vehicles towards evening, about six or eight miles, when, having sent for a fiddler, and danced till they are tired, they will return home again by moonlight, or, perhaps more often, by _day_ light. Whilst the snow is on the ground no other carriages are made use of, either for pleasure or service. The productions of the earth are brought to market in sleighs; merchandise is draughted about in sleighs; coaches are laid by, and the ladies and gentlemen mount the _silent_ car, and nothing is heard in the streets but the tinkling[23] of bells.... I set off on the _1st_ of _September, 1796_, to make a tour of the western country,--that land of Paradise, according to the flattering accounts given by Imlay and others. Wis.h.i.+ng to go to the new city of Was.h.i.+ngton, _we_[24] took our route through Philadelphia and Baltimore, which I have already described. I shall not trouble you with any further remarks, excepting that as the season was just the reverse of what it was when I pa.s.sed through this country last, it presented quite a different appearance from what I described to you in my former letters. Besides, there was none of that inconvenience from bad roads, so terrible to a traveller in the winter. On the contrary, we went on with a rapidity and safety equal to any mode of travelling in England.

"From Baltimore to the new city of Was.h.i.+ngton is forty-five miles, where we arrived on the _5th_ of _October_ following. The road is well furnished with taverns, which in general are good, at least as good as can be expected in this part of the world. Close to Was.h.i.+ngton is a handsome town called Georgetown; in fact, it will form part of the new city; for, being so near the site intended for it, and being laid out nearly on the same plan, its streets will be only a prolongation of the streets laid out for the city of Was.h.i.+ngton: so it will in course of time lose its name of Georgetown, and adopt the general one of Was.h.i.+ngton. Much in the same manner the small places formerly separated from the metropolis of England have lost their name, and fallen under the general denomination of London.

"Georgetown is situated on a hill close to the river Potomak; it presents a beautiful view from the surrounding country, of which also it commands a fine prospect. It is a seaport town, and some of their vessels are employed in the London trade. There are stages run daily between this place and Baltimore, for which you pay four dollars. There are also stages to and from Alexandria, a handsome and flouris.h.i.+ng town situated on the Potomak, lower down the stream, and about eight miles off; for which you pay a fare of three quarters of a dollar. We put up at the Federal Arms whilst we were there. It is a good inn, but their charges are most extravagantly high.... At about half-past one, _October 7th_, we started on our journey over the Allegany mountains to Pittsburgh.[25] About fourteen miles on the road is a pretty little town called Montgomery Court House;[26] it contains some good houses, but the streets are narrow. About seven miles further is a little settlement, formed a few years back by Captain Lingham, called Middlebrook. Captain Lingham has a house on the road, near a mill, which he has erected; and here (following the example of many of his brother officers) he has retired from the toils and bustle of war, to spend his days in the enjoyments of a country life. We arrived here about six o'clock; the sun was just setting, yet there was time to go another stage; but, as we got into a part of the country where _taverns_[27]

were not very frequent, we proposed stopping here this night.

Accordingly, putting our horses up at a little tavern, (which, together with four or five more houses, composed the whole of the settlement,) we had a comfortable supper and went to bed. About half-past six the next morning we started from this place, and stopped, about seven miles on the road, at an old woman's of the name of Roberts.[28] This old woman (whose house, I believe, was the only one we saw on the road) acts at times in the capacity of a tavern-keeper: that is, a person travelling that way, and straitened for provisions, would most probably find something there for himself and his horse. The old lady was but just up when we called; her house had more the appearance of a hut than the habitation of an hostess, and when we entered there was scarcely room to turn round. We were loath to stop here; but there not being any other house near, we were obliged to do it, both for the sake of ourselves and our horses. We soon made her acquainted with our wants, and she, gathering together a few sticks, (for her fire was not yet lighted,) and getting a little meal and some water, mixed us up some cakes, which were soon dressed at the fire, and then all sitting down at the table, and having mixed some tea in a little pot, we enjoyed a very comfortable breakfast. The poor old woman, who was a widow, seemed to live in a deal of distress: the whole of her living was acquired by furnis.h.i.+ng accommodation to travellers. When we were sitting over the fire, and partaking of our meal-cakes with this old woman, it brought to mind the story of Elijah and the widow, (I Kings, chap, xvii.,) particularly where she answers him with, 'As the Lord thy G.o.d liveth, I have not a cake, but one handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.' The appositeness of our situations rendered this pa.s.sage very striking, and made me look upon my hostess in a more favourable point of view than when I first saw her. I gave her something to render her situation more comfortable and happy.