Got to Springfield at half past five, a restless trembling night; such
roads and such furious driving as enough to break arms and legs, through
pits of water after the logs failed. Pretty good land divided into small
farms, woods rather than forests; rather flat and the road bad and
muddy, still worse, exceeding any I ever saw and yet this is called a
national road. Well there were no other passengers or we should have
been hauled out. Got to Columbus, it was the last twenty miles, all mud,
so that we could only walk most of the way. Coming into Columbus such a
flood that fields of corn are spoiled, and the road, half a yard of
granite washed away; the old bridge also washed away so that we had to
be ferried. Paid to Wheeling 6-1/2 dollars. At the next stage I was
informed my name was not entered as having paid my fare. During the
night the coach stopt and I and the other passengers were desired to get
out, the horses were completely set fast in the mud; after resting some
time they made a further effort; we scrambled through the mud and got
in; very surprising that the roads are not better protected by railing
or walls, not even over the mountains or ridges.