PIONEER TRAVEL IN KENTUCKY
The following interesting and vivid picture of early travel in Kentucky
is taken from Judge James Hall's _Legends of the West_ (Philadelphia,
1832); though largely a work of fiction, such descriptions as these are
as lifelike as the original picture.
The place at which the party landed was a small village on the bank of
the [Ohio] river, distant about fifty miles from a settlement in the
interior to which they were destined.
"Here we are on dry land once more," said the Englishman as he jumped
ashore; "come, Mr. Logan, let us go to the stage-house and take our
seats." Logan smiled, and followed his companion.
"My good friend," said Edgarton, to a tall, sallow man in a
hunting-shirt, who sat on a log by the river with a rifle in his lap,
"can you direct us to the stage-house?"
"Well, I can't say that I can."
"Perhaps you do not understand what we want," said Edgarton; "we wish to
take seats in a mail-coach for ----."
"Well, stranger, it's my sentimental belief that there isn't a coach,
male or female, in the county."
"This fellow is ignorant of our meaning," said Edgarton to Logan.
"What's that you say, stranger? I _spose maybe_ you think I never _seed_
a coach? Well, it's a free country, and every man has a right to think
what he pleases; but I reckon I've saw as many of _them are fixens_ as
any other man. I was raised in Tennessee. I saw General Jackson once
riding in the elegantest carriage that ever mortal man _sot_ his eyes
on--with glass winders to it like a house, and _sort o'_ silk
_curtings_. The harness was mounted with silver; it was _drawd_ by four
blooded nags, and _druv_ by a mighty likely _nigger_ boy."
The travellers passed on, and soon learned that there was indeed no
stage in the country. Teams and carriages of any kind were difficult to
be procured; and it was with some difficulty that two stout wagons were
at last hired to carry Mr. Edgarton's movables, and a _dearborn_
obtained to convey his family, it being agreed that one of the gentlemen
should drive the latter vehicle while the other walked, alternately.
Arrangements were accordingly made to set out the next morning.
The settlement in which Mr. Edgarton had judiciously determined to pitch
his tent, and enjoy the healthful innocence and rural felicity of the
farmer's life, was new; and the country to be traversed to reach it
entirely unsettled. There were two or three houses scattered through the
wilderness on the road, one of which the party might have reached by
setting out early in the morning, and they had determined to do so. But
there was so much fixing and preparing to be done, so much stowing of
baggage and packing of trunks, such momentous preparations to guard
against cold and heat, hunger and thirst, fatigue, accident, robbery,
disease, and death, that it was near noon before the cavalcade was
prepared to move. Even then they were delayed some minutes longer to
give Mr. Edgarton time to oil the screws and renew the charges of his
double-barrel gun and pocket-pistols. In vain he was told there were no
highwaymen in America. His way lay chiefly through uninhabited forests;
and he considered it a fact in natural history, as indisputable as any
other elementary principle, that every such forest has its robbers.
After all, he entirely neglected to put flints in his bran new locks
instead of the wooden substitutes which the maker had placed there to
protect his work from injury; and thus "doubly armed," he announced his
readiness to start with an air of truly comic heroism.
When they began their journey, new terrors arose. The road was
sufficiently plain and firm for all rational purposes; that is to say,
it _would do_ very well for those who only wanted to get along, and were
content to make the best of it. It was a mere path beaten by a
succession of travellers. No avenue had been cut for it through the
woods; but the first pioneers had wound their way among the trees,
avoiding obstacles by going round them, as the snake winds through the
grass, and those who followed had trodden in their footsteps, until they
had beaten a smooth road sufficiently wide to admit the passage of a
single wagon. On either side was the thick forest, sometimes grown up
with underbrush to the margin of the _trace_, and sometimes so open as
to allow the eye to roam off to a considerable distance. Above was a
dense canopy of interwoven branches. The wild and lonesome appearance,
the deep shade, the interminable gloom of the woods, were frightful to
our travellers. The difference between a wild forest in the simple
majesty of nature, and the woodlands of cultivated countries, is very
great. In the latter the underbrush has been removed by art or destroyed
by domestic animals; the trees as they arrive at their growth are felled
for use, and the remainder, less crowded, assume the spreading and
rounded form of cultivated trees. The sunbeams reach the soil through
the scattered foliage, the ground is trodden by grazing animals, and a
hard sod is formed. However secluded such a spot may be, it bears the
marks of civilization; the lowing of cattle is heard, and many species
of songsters that hover round the habitations of men, and are never seen
in the wilderness, here warble their notes. In the western forests of
America all is grand and savage. The truth flashes instantly upon the
mind of the observer, with the force of conviction, that Nature has been
carrying on her operations here for ages undisturbed. The leaf has
fallen from year to year; succeeding generations of trees have
mouldered, spreading over the surface layer upon layer of decayed fibre,
until the soil has acquired an astonishing depth and an unrivalled
fertility. From this rich bed the trees are seen rearing their shafts to
an astonishing height. The tendency of plants towards the light is well
understood; of course, when trees are crowded closely together, instead
of spreading, they shoot upwards, each endeavouring, as it were, to
overtop his neighbours, and expending the whole force of the vegetative
powers in rearing a great trunk to the greatest possible height, and
then throwing out a top like an umbrella to the rays of the sun. The
functions of vitality are carried on with vigor at the extremities,
while the long stem is bare of leaves or branches; and when the
undergrowth is removed nothing can exceed the gloomy grandeur of the
elevated arches of foliage, supported by pillars of majestic size and
venerable appearance. The great thickness and age of many of the trees
is another striking peculiarity. They grow from age to age, attaining a
gigantic size, and then fall, with a tremendous force, breaking down all
that stands in their downward way, and heaping a great pile of timber on
the ground, where it remains untouched until it is converted into soil.
Mingled with all our timber are seen aspiring vines, which seem to have
commenced their growth with that of the young trees, and risen with
them, their tops still flourishing together far above the earth, while
their stems are alike bare. The undergrowth consists of dense thickets,
made up of the offspring of the larger trees, mixed with thorns, briers,
dwarfish vines, and a great variety of shrubs. The ground is never
covered with a firm sward, and seldom bears the grasses, or smaller
plants, being covered from year to year with a dense mass of dried and
decaying leaves, and shrouded in eternal shade.
Such was the scene that met the eyes of our travellers, and had they
been treated to a short excursion to the moon they would scarcely have
witnessed any thing more novel. The wide-spread and trackless ocean had
scarcely conveyed to their imaginations so vivid an impression of the
vast and solitary grandeur of Nature, in her pathless wildernesses. They
could hardly realize the expectation of travelling safely through such
savage shades. The path, which could be seen only a few yards in
advance, seemed continually to have terminated, leaving them no choice
but to retrace their steps. Sometimes they came to a place where a tree
had fallen across the road, and Edgarton would stop under the
supposition that any further attempt to proceed was hopeless--until he
saw the American drivers forsaking the track, guiding their teams among
the trees, crushing down the young saplings that stood in their way, and
thus winding round the obstacle, and back to the road, often through
thickets so dense, that to the stranger's eye it seemed as if neither
man nor beast could penetrate them. Sometimes on reaching the brink of a
ravine or small stream, the bridge of logs, which previous travellers
had erected, was found to be broken down, or the ford rendered
impassable; and the wagoners with the same imperturbable good nature,
and as if such accidents were matters of course, again left the road,
and seeking out a new crossing-place, passed over with scarcely the
appearance of difficulty.
Once they came to a sheet of water, extending as far as the eye could
reach, the tall trees standing in it as thickly as upon the dry ground,
with tufts of grass and weeds instead of the usual undergrowth.
"Is there a ferry here?" inquired Edgarton.
"Oh no, sir, it's nothing but _a slash_."
"What's that?"
"Why, sir, jist a sort o' swamp."
"What in the world shall we do?"
"We'll jist put right ahead, sir; there's no dif-_fick_-ulty; it's nice
good driving all about here. It's sort o' muddy, but there's good bottom
to it all the way."
On they went. To Edgarton it was like going to sea; for no road could be
seen; nothing but the trackless surface of the water; but instead of
looking down, where his eye could have penetrated to the bottom, he was
glancing forward in the vain hope of seeing dry land. Generally the
water was but a few inches deep, but sometimes they soused into a hole;
then Edgarton groaned and the ladies screamed; and sometimes it got
gradually deeper until the hubs of the wheels were immersed, and the
Englishman then called to the wagoners to stop.
"Don't be afeard, sir," one of them replied, "it is not bad; why this
ain't nothing; it's right good going; it ain't a-going to swim your
horse, no how."
"Anything seems a good road to you where the horse will not have to
swim," replied the Englishman surlily.
"Why, bless you," said the backwoodsman, "this ain't no part of a
priming to places that I've seed afore, no how. I've seed race paths in
a worse fix than this. Don't you reckon, stranger, that if my team can
drag this here heavy wagon, loaded down with plunder, you can sartainly
get along with that _ar_ little carry-all, and nothing on the face of
the _yeath_ to tote, but jist the women and children?"
They had but one such swamp to pass. It was only about half a mile wide,
and after travelling that far through the water, the firm soil of the
woods, which before seemed gloomy, became cheerful by contrast; and
Edgarton found at last, that however unpleasant such travelling may be
to those who are not accustomed to it, it has really no dangers but such
as are imaginary.
As the cavalcade proceeded slowly, the ladies found it most pleasant to
walk wherever the ground was sufficiently dry. Mrs. Edgarton and the
children might be seen sauntering along, and keeping close to the
carriage, for fear of being lost or captured by some nondescript monster
of the wild, yet often halting to gather nosegays of wild flowers, or to
examine some of the many natural curiosities which surrounded them....
The sun was about to set when the wagoners halted at an open spot,
covered with a thick carpet of short grass, on the margin of a small
stream of clear water. On inquiring the reason, Mr. Edgarton was assured
that this was the best _campground_ on the route, and as there was no
house within many miles, it was advisable to make arrangements for
passing the night there.
"Impossible!" exclaimed the European gentleman; "what! lie on the ground
like beasts! we shall all catch our death of cold!"
"I should never live through the night," groaned his fair partner....
"Don't let us stay here in the dark, papa," cried the children.
Logan expressed the opinion that an encampment might be made quite
comfortable, and the sentimental Julia declared that it would be
"delightful!" Edgarton imprecated maledictions on the beggarly country
which could not afford inns for travellers, and wondered if they
expected a gentleman to nestle among the leaves like Robin Hood's
foresters....
This storm, like other sudden gusts, soon blew over, and the party began
in earnest to make the best of a bad business by rendering their
situation as comfortable as possible. The wagoners, though highly amused
at the fears of their companions, showed great alacrity and kindness in
their endeavours to dissipate the apprehensions and provide for the
comfort of foreigners; and, assisted by Mr. Logan, soon prepared a
shelter. This was made by planting some large stakes in the ground, in
the form of a square, filling up the sides and covering the tops with
smaller poles, and suspending blankets over and around it, so as to form
a complete enclosure. Mrs. Edgarton had a carpet taken from the wagons
and spread on the ground; on this the beds were unpacked and laid,
trunks were arranged for seats, and the emigrants surprised at finding
themselves in a comfortable apartment, became as merry as they had been
before despondent. A fire was kindled and the teakettle boiled, and
there being a large store of bread and provisions already prepared, an
excellent repast was soon placed before them, and eaten with the relish
produced by severe exercise.
The night had now closed in, but the blaze of a large fire and the
light of several candles threw a brilliant gleam over the spot and
heightened the cheerfulness of the evening meal. The arrangements for
sleeping were very simple. The tent, which had been divided into two
apartments by a curtain suspended in the middle, accommodated all of Mr.
Edgarton's household: Logan drew on his greatcoat, and spreading a
single blanket on the ground, threw himself down with his feet to the
fire; the teamsters crept into their wagons, and the several parties
soon enjoyed that luxury which, if Shakspeare may be believed, is often
denied to the "head that wears a crown."
The light of the morning brought with it cheerfulness and merriment.
Refreshed from the fatigues of the preceding day, inspired with new
confidence, and amused by the novelties that surrounded them, the
emigrants were in high spirits. Breakfast was hastily prepared, and the
happy party, seated in a circle on the grass, enjoyed their meal with a
keen relish. The horses were then harnessed and the cavalcade renewed
its march.
The day was far advanced when they began to rise to more elevated ground
than that over which they had travelled. The appearance of the woods was
sensibly changed. They were now travelling over a high upland tract with
a gently-waving surface, and instead of the rank vegetation, the dense
foliage and gloomy shades by which they had been surrounded, beheld
woodlands composed of smaller trees thinly scattered and intermingled
with rich thickets of young timber. The growth though thick was low, so
that the rays of the sun penetrated through many openings, and the
beaten path which they pursued was entirely exposed to the genial beams.
Groves of the wild apple, the plum, and the cherry, now in full bloom,
added a rich beauty to the scene and a delightful fragrance to the air.
But the greatest natural curiosity and the most attractive scenic
exhibitions of our Western hemisphere was still in reserve; and a
spontaneous expression of wonder and delight burst from the whole party,
as they emerged from the woods and stood on the edge of _a prairie_.
They entered a long vista, carpeted with grass, interspersed with
numberless flowers, among which the blue violet predominated; while the
edges of the forest on either hand were elegantly fringed with low
thickets loaded with blossoms--those of the plum and cherry of snowy
whiteness, and those of the crab-apple of a delicate pink. Above and
beyond these were seen the rich green, the irregular outline, and the
variegated light and shade of the forest. As if to produce the most
beautiful perspective, and to afford every variety of aspect, the vista
increased in width until it opened like the estuary of a great river
into the broad prairie, and as our travellers advanced the woodlands
receded on either hand, and sometimes indented by smaller avenues
opening into the woods, and sometimes throwing out points of timber, so
that the boundary of the plain resembled the irregular outline of a
shore as traced on a map.
[Illustration: PIONEER VIEW OF HOUSES AT FORT CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND]
Delighted with the lovely aspect of Nature in these the most tasteful of
her retreats, the party lingered along until they reached the margin of
the broad prairie, where a noble expanse of scenery of the same
character was spread out on a larger scale. They stood on a rising
ground, and beheld before them a vast plain, undulating in its surface
so as to present to the eye a series of swells and depressions, never
broken nor abrupt, but always regular, and marked by curved lines. Here
and there was seen a deep ravine or drain, by which the superfluous
water was carried off, the sides of which were thickly set with willows.
Clumps of elm and oak were scattered about far apart like little
islands; a few solitary trees were seen, relieving the eye as it
wandered over the ocean-like surface of this native meadow.
It so happened that a variety of accidents and delays impeded the
progress of our emigrants, so that the shadows of evening began to fall
upon them, while they were yet far from the termination of their
journey, and it became necessary again to seek a place of repose for the
night. The prospect of encamping again had lost much of its terrors, but
they were relieved from the contemplation of this last resource of the
houseless, by the agreeable information that they were drawing near the
house of a farmer who was in the habit of "accommodating travellers."
It was further explained that Mr. Goodman did not keep a public-house,
but that he was "well off," "had houseroom enough, and plenty to eat,"
and that "_of course_," according to the hospitable customs of the
country, he entertained any strangers who sought shelter under his roof.
Thither they bent their steps, anticipating from the description of it a
homestead much larger and more comfortable than the cheerless-looking
log-cabins which had thus far greeted their eyes, and which seemed to
compose the only dwellings of the population.
On arriving at the place, they were a little disappointed to find that
the abundance of _houseroom_ which had been promised them was a mere
figure of speech, an idiomatic expression by a native, having a
comparative signification. The dwelling was a log house, differing from
others only in being of a larger size and better construction. The logs
were hewed and squared instead of being put up in their original state,
with the bark on; the apertures were carefully closed, and the openings
representing windows, instead of being stopped when urgent occasion
required the exclusion of the atmosphere, by hats, old baskets, or
cast-off garments, were filled with glass, in imitation of the dwellings
of more highly civilized lands. The wealth of this farmer, consisting
chiefly of the _plenty to eat_ which had been boasted, was amply
illustrated by the noisy and numerous crowd of chickens, ducks, turkeys,
pigs, and cattle, that cackled, gobbled, and grunted about the house,
filling the air with social though discordant sounds, and so obstructing
the way as scarcely to leave room for the newly-arrived party to
approach the door.
As the cavalcade halted, the foremost driver made the fact known by a
vociferous salutation.
"Hal-low! Who keeps house?"
A portly dame made her appearance at the door, and was saluted with,--
"How de do, ma'am--all well, ma'am?"
"All right well, thank you, sir."
"Here's some strangers that wants lodging; can we get to stay all night
with you?"
"Well, I don't know; _he's_ not at home, and I harly know what to say."
"I'll answer for _him_," replied the driver, who understood distinctly
that the pronoun used so emphatically by the good lady alluded to her
inferior moiety; "he wouldn't turn away strangers at this time of day
when the chickens is jist goin to roost. We've ben a travellin all day,
and our critters is mighty tired and hungry, as well as the rest of us."
"Well," said the woman, very cheerfully, "I reckon you can stay; if you
can put up with such fare as we have, you are very welcome. My man will
be back soon; he's only jist gone up to town."
The whole party were now received into the dwelling of the backwoodsman
by the smiling and voluble hostess, whose assiduous cordiality placed
them at once at their ease in spite of the plain and primitive, and to
them uncomfortable aspect of the log house. Indeed, nothing could be
more uninviting in appearance to those who were accustomed only to the
more convenient dwellings of a state of society farther advanced in the
arts of social life. It was composed of two large apartments or
separate cabins, connected by an area or space which was floored and
roofed, but open at the sides, and which served as a convenient
receptacle to hang saddles, bridles, and harness, or to stow travellers'
baggage, while in fine weather it served as a place in which to eat or
sit.
In the room into which our party was shown there was neither plastering
nor paper, nor any device of modern ingenuity to conceal the bare logs
that formed the sides of the house, neither was there a carpet on the
floor, nor any furniture for mere ornament. The absence of all
superfluities and of many of the conveniences usually deemed essential
in household economy was quite striking. A table, a few chairs, a small
looking-glass, some cooking utensils, and a multitudinous array of
women's apparel, hung round on wooden pins, as if for show, made up the
meagre list, whether for parade or use, with the addition of several
bedsteads closely ranged on one side of the room, supporting beds of the
most plethoric and dropsical dimensions, covered with clean cotton
bedding, and ostentatiously tricked out with gaudy, parti-colored
quilts.
The "man" soon made his appearance, a stout, weatherbeaten person, of
rough exterior, but not less hospitably disposed than his better half,
and the whole household were now actively astir to furnish forth the
evening's repast, nor was their diligent kindness, nor the inquisitive
though respectful cross-examination which accompanied it, at all
diminished when they discovered that their guests were English people.
Soon the ample fire-place, extending almost across one end of the house,
was piled full of blazing logs; the cries of affrighted fowls and other
significant notes of preparation announced that active operations were
commenced in the culinary department. An array of pots and kettles,
skillets, ovens, and frying-pans, covered the hearth, and the astonished
travellers discovered that the room they occupied was not only used as a
bedchamber, but "served them for parlour, and kitchen, and hall."
We shall not attempt to describe the processes of making bread, cooking
meat and vegetables, and preparing the delightful beverage of the
evening meal, a portion of which took place in the presence of the
surprised and amused guests, while other parts were conducted under a
shed out of doors. A large table was soon spread with clean linen, and
covered with a profusion of viands such as probably could not be found
on the board of the mere peasant or labouring farmer in any other part
of the world.[48] Coffee was there, with sweet milk and buttermilk in
abundance; fried chickens, venison, and ham: cheese, sweetmeats,
pickles, dried fruit, and honey; bread of wheat and corn, hot biscuits
and cakes, with fresh butter; all well prepared and neat, and all
pressed upon the hungry travellers with officious hospitality. Had the
entertainment been furnished in regal style at some enchanted castle by
invisible hands, the guests could scarcely have been more surprised by
the profusion and variety of the backwoods repast, so far did the result
produced exceed the apparent means afforded by the desolate-looking and
scantily-furnished cabin.
If our worthy travellers were surprised by the novelties of backwoods
_inn_-hospitality which thus far had pressed upon them, how much was
their wonder increased when the hour for retiring arrived, and the
landlady apologized for being obliged to separate guests from their
hosts.
"Our family is so large," said the woman, "that we have to have two
rooms. I shall have to put all of you strangers into a room by
yourselves."
The party were accordingly conducted into the other apartment, which was
literally filled with arrangements for sleeping, there being several
bedsteads, each of which was closely curtained with sheets, blankets,
and coverlids hung around it for the occasion, while the whole floor was
strewed with pallets. Here Mr. Edgarton and his whole party, including
Logan and the teamsters, were expected to sleep. A popular poet, in
allusion to this patriarchal custom, impertinently remarks,
Some cavillers
Object to sleep with fellow-travellers.
And on this occasion the objection was uttered vehemently, the ladies
declaring that martyrdom in any shape would be preferable to lodging
thus like a drove of cattle. Unreasonable as such scruples might have
seemed, they were so pertinaciously adhered to on the one side, and so
obstinately resisted by the exceedingly difficult nature of the case on
the other, that there is no knowing to what extremities matters might
have gone, had not a compromise been effected by which Logan and the
wagon-drivers were transferred into the room occupied by the farmer's
family, while the Edgartons, the sister, the maid, the greyhound, the
pug-dog, and the parrot, remained sole occupants of the apartment
prepared for them.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Diary of George Washington, Sept. 2 to Oct. 4, 1784._
[2] Cf. "Journal of Lieut. Robert Parker," _The Pennsylvania Magazine_,
vol. xxvii, No. 108, pp. 404-420.
[3] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. v, p. 93.
[4] _Wisconsin Historical Collections_, vol. xi, p. 230.
[5] _Public Documents Relating to the New York Canals_ (New York, 1821),
p. 312.
[6] _Id._, pp. 352-353.
[7] _A Pedestrious Tour_, by Estwick Evans.
[8] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. xiii, ch. 4.
[9] Watson's _Annals of Philadelphia_, vol. i, p. 257.
[10] See "Hulme's Journal" in W. Cobbett's _A Year's Residence in the
United States_ (1819), p. 490.
[11] D. Hewett's _American Traveller_ (1825), p. 222.
[11*] It is curious to note that while the introduction of coaches is
said here to be injurious to the breed of horses, Macaulay, a century or
so later, decried the passing of the coach and the old coaching days
because this, too, meant the destruction of the breed of horses!--See
_Historic Highways of America_, vol. x, p. 122.
[12] Florida Avenue is said to have been the first street laid out on
the present site of Washington, D. C. As it is the most crooked of all
the streets and avenues this is easy to believe.
[13] _Retrospect of Western Travel_, vol. i, pp. 88-89.
[14] Moore's notes are as follows:
On "ridges" (line 3): "What Mr. Weld [an English traveler in America]
says of the national necessity of balancing or trimming the stage, in
passing over some of the wretched roads in America, is by no means
exaggerated. 'The driver frequently had to call to the passengers in the
stage to lean out of the carriage, first on one side, then on the other,
to prevent it from oversetting in the deep ruts, with which the road
abounds. "Now, gentlemen, to the right!" upon which the passengers all
stretched their bodies half out of the carriage to balance on that side.
"Now, gentlemen, to the left!" and so on.'--_Weld's Travels._"
On "bridges" (line 4): "Before the stage can pass one of these bridges
the driver is obliged to stop and arrange the loose planks, of which it
is composed, in the manner that best suits his ideas of safety, and as
the planks are again disturbed by the passing of the coach, the next
travelers who arrive have, of course, a new arrangement to make.
Mahomet, as Sale tells us, was at some pains to imagine a precarious
kind of bridge for the entrance of paradise, in order to enhance the
pleasures of arrival. A Virginia bridge, I think, would have answered
his purpose completely."
[15] _Sketch of the Civil Engineering of North America_, pp. 132-133.
[16] "The Oldest Turnpike in Pennsylvania," by Edward B. Moore, in
Philadelphia _Press_ or Delaware County _American_, June 22, 1901; and
"The Old Turnpike," by A. E. Witmer in _Lancaster County Historical
Society Papers_, vol. ii (November, 1897), pp. 67-86.
[17] Sherman Day, _Historical Collections of the State of Pennsylvania_
(Philadelphia, 1843).
[18] The rise of the Pennsylvania canal and railway system will be
treated in chapter four of _Historic Highways of America_, vol. xiii.
[18*] For these and other facts concerning plank roads we are indebted
to W. Kingsford's _History, Structure and Statistics of Plank Roads_
(1852).
[19] The frontispiece to this volume represents a mile-stone which was
erected beside Braddock's old road, near Frostburg, Maryland, during the
Revolutionary War. On the reverse side it bears the legend, "Our
Countrys Rights We Will Defend." On the front these words can be traced:
"[12 ?] Miles to Fort Cumberland 29 Miles to Capt Smith's Inn & Bridge
by Crossings. [Smithfield, Pennsylvania] the Best Road to Redstone Old
Fort 64 M." The stone was once taken away for building purposes and
broken; the town authorities of Frostburg ordered it to be cemented,
returned and set up on its old-time site.
[20] The Lancaster Turnpike.
[21] "In these stages," as Brissot [Jean Pierre Brissot de Warville,
_New Travels in the United States_ (London, 1794)] observes, "you meet
with men of all professions. The member of congress is placed by the
side of the shoemaker who elected him; they fraternise together, and
converse with familiarity. You see no person here take upon him those
important airs which you too often meet with in England."--BAILY.
[22] It consists of several layers of large logs laid longitudinally,
and parallel to each other, and covered at the top with earth.--BAILY.
[23] The sleighs not making any noise when in motion over the snow, the
horses are obliged by law to have little bells fastened around their
necks, to warn foot-passengers of their approach.--BAILY.
[24] I was in company with a gentleman of the name of Heighway, who was
going down to the northwestern settlement to form a plantation.--BAILY.
See p. 144.
[25] By D. Hewett's _American Traveller_, the principal points on the
Washington-Pittsburg route are given as follows:
Distance.
Montgomery c. h. 14.
Clarksburg 13.
Monocasy River 8.
Fredericktown 7.
Hagerstown 27.
Pennsylvania State line 8.
M'Connell'stown 20.
Junietta River 17.
Bedford 14.
Stoyestown 27.
Summit of Laurel Hill 13.
Greensburg 26.
Pittsburg 32.
Total 226.
[26] Mr. Hewett gives this note of Montgomery C. H.: "This village is
also called Rockville. There is an extremely bad turnpike from
Washington to this place, so much so, that the man who keeps the toll
house, _after_ having taken toll, recommends travellers to go the _ola
road_."--p. 51.
[27] All the inns and public-houses on the road are called
taverns.--BAILY.
[28] Clarksburg.
[29] Hagar's-town is ten miles from Boone's-town.--BAILY.
[30] McDowell's Mill.
[31] Mr. Heighway, an Englishman who settled now at Waynesville, Warren
County, Ohio.--_History of Warren County, Ohio_ (Chicago, 1882), p. 412.
[32] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. ii, p. 109.
[33] The patriot-pioneer of Wheeling, the first settlement on the Ohio
River below Pittsburg, which he founded in 1769, and where he lived
until 1811. He was born in Virginia in 1747.
[34] The importance of the historic _entrepôt_ Limestone Mason County,
Kentucky (later named Maysville from one of its first inhabitants) has
been suggested in Volume IX of this series (pp. 70, 89, 128). It was the
most important entrance point into Kentucky on its northeastern river
shore-line. What it was in earliest days, because of the buffalo trail
into the interior, it remained down through the earlier and later
pioneer era to the time of the building of the trunk railway lines.
[35] _United States Statutes at Large, Private Laws 1789-1845,
inclusive_, p. 27.
[36] _American Pioneer_, vol. i, p. 158.
[37] An exaggerated statement, yet much in accord with the truth, as we
have previously observed.
[38] County seat of Adams County, Ohio.
[39] Evans and Stivers, _History of Adams County, Ohio_, p. 125.
[40] Wilcoxon's clearing, Sinking Spring, Highland County, Ohio.--_Id._,
p. 125.
[41] _Id._, p. 88.
[42] _Society and Solitude_, essay on "Civilization," pp. 25-26.
[43] See Graham's _History of Fairfield and Perry Counties, Ohio_, pp.
133-134.
[44] _Bills & Resolutions, House Reps., 1st Sess., 21st Cong., Part 2,
1829 & '30_, H. R., p. 285.
[45] Richardson's _Messages and Papers of the Presidents_, vol. ii, pp.
451, 452.
[46] _Id._, pp. 483-493.
[47] Reizenstein's "The Economic History of the Baltimore and Ohio
Railroad," _Johns Hopkins Studies in Historical and Political Science_,
fifteenth series, vii-viii, p. 23.
[48] I cannot resist the opportunity of nailing to the counter a
wretched fabrication of some traveller, who represents himself as
dismounting at a Western house of entertainment, and inquiring the price
of a dinner. The answer is, "Well, stranger--with wheat bread and
chicken fixens, it would be fifty cents, but with corn bread and common
doins, twenty-five cents." The slang here used is of the writer's own
invention. No one ever heard in the West of "chicken fixens," or "common
doins." On such occasions, the table is spread with everything that the
house affords, or with whatever may be convenient, according to the
means and temper of the entertainers. A meal is a meal, and the cost is
the same, whether it be plentiful or otherwise.--HALL.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
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2. Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected.
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