Baltimore, 2 February, 1777.
Last evening we arrived safe in this town, after the longest journey and
through the worst roads and the worst weather that I have ever
experienced. My horses performed extremely well.
Baltimore is a very pretty town, situated on Patapsco River, which
empties itself into the great bay of Chesapeake. The inhabitants are all
good Whigs, having some time ago banished all the Tories from among
them. The streets are very dirty and miry, but everything else is
agreeable, except the monstrous prices of things. We cannot get a horse
kept under a guinea a week. Our friends are well.
The Continental army is filling up fast, here and in Virginia. I pray
that the Massachusetts may not fail of its quota in season. In this
journey we have crossed four mighty rivers: Connecticut, Hudson,
Delaware, and Susquehannah. The two first we crossed upon the ice, the
two last in boats; the last we crossed a little above the place where it
empties into Chesapeake Bay.
I think I have never been better pleased with any of our American States
than with Maryland. We saw most excellent farms all along the road, and
what was more striking to me, I saw more sheep and flax in Maryland than
I ever saw in riding a like distance in any other State. We scarce
passed a farm without seeing a fine flock of sheep, and scarce a house
without seeing men or women dressing flax. Several times we saw women
breaking and swingling this necessary article.
I have been to meeting and heard my old acquaintance, Mr. Allison, a
worthy clergyman of this town, whom I have often seen in Philadelphia.