Sunday, Oc. Myself
and friend proceeded on our journey. We arrived
at Siers, a distance of thirty miles, at dusk, much
relieved by the change from our horses to the wagon.
The roads were muddy, the weather drizzly and the
country hilly. Buildings indifferent. The
land very fertile and black. Trees uncommonly
tall. Passed the little village of Cadis.
In this country a tavern, a store, a smith shop and
two or three cabins make a town. Passed ten or
fifteen travelers. Great contrast between the
quality of the land from Chambersburg to Pittsburg,
and that which we have already traveled over from
Steubenville in Ohio.
Monday, Oc. Left Siers
at 6 o’clock a. m. The morning fair and
cold. Roads extremely rough. Country fertile,
but hilly. Log cabins, ugly women and tall timber.
Passed a little flourishing village called Freeport,
settled by foreigners. Yankee Quakers and mechanics.
Remarkable, with two taverns in the village, there
was nothing fit to drink, not even good water.
The corn fields in the woods among dead trees and
the corn very fine. We arrived at Adairs, a distance
of twenty-seven miles, at 6 o’clock p. m.
Passed some peddlers and a few travelers. Value
of land from Steubenville to Adairs from $2 to $30
per acre. Lots in Freeport, eighteen months old,
from $30 to $100. This day being Monday and the
end of the second week since leaving home, our feelings
were warm and our hearts beat high for those that are
dear and behind us.
Tuesday, Oc. Left
Adairs at 6 o’clock a. m. The country extremely
hilly and not quite so fertile. Independent people
in log cabins. They make their own clothes, sugar
and salt, and paint their own signs. They picture
a lion like a dove, a cat like a terrapin, and Gen.
Washington like a bird’s nest. Salt wells
and sugar orchards are common in this country.
Steep hills, frightful precipices, little or no water,
and even a scarcity of new whisky. Ragged and
ignorant children and but little appearance of industry.
Met a number of travelers inclining to the east, and
overtook a larger number than usual bound to the land
of promise. The evening being rainy, the roads
soon became muddy. We arrived at Silver’s
Travelers’ Rest at 6 o’clock. Distance
twenty-nine miles. Passed a little village called
Cambridge.
Wednesday, Oc. Left
Silver’s at 7 o’clock and breakfasted at
Zanesville, a very growing and flourishing village.
It is situated on the Muskingum river, which is navigable
for flat-bottomed boats. Zanesville is a lively
and busy little town. There are several mills
and manufactories in and at the place. Neat bridges
and a canal cut at great labor and expense through
a solid rock for a considerable distance, by which
very important water power is gained. Left Zanesville
and traveled twenty-three miles to a village called
Somerset. The country very hilly and the lands
not so fertile as those met with near Cadis.
Rain continues. Roads extremely slippery.
Met and overtook about sixty travelers, many on foot Scotch,
Irish, and Yankees. Oats, 25 cents; butter, 12-1/2
cents; brandy, 50 cents a half-pint; hay, $8 a ton.
Thursday, Oc. Left
Somerset at 7 o’clock a. m. Dull, drizzly
weather. Deep roads. Horse lame in consequence
of bad shoeing in Pittsburg. Heart a little heavy.
Thought of home. Rallied again and arrived at
a neat little town at the foot of a hill. It is
called New Lancaster. Distance, eighteen miles.
Stopped on the road for refreshment and found a Pennsylvania
family whose kindness and hospitality deserve mention,
as we had been denied water and sometimes other refreshments
by the almost wild inhabitants west of Pittsburg to
this place. Some brick houses and a few neat
frame dwellings to be seen in the last two days’
ride.
Friday, Oc Left New
Lancaster at 8 o’clock and arrived at Chillicothe,
a distance of thirty-four miles. Passed some elegant
farms and some neat dwellings. The people appear
more polite and better educated. Chillicothe
is situated on the Sciota, a stream navigable for
flat-bottomed boats. The bridge over the Sciota
is long, substantial and handsome. Chillicothe
is a town of considerable business for its size.
One of the branches of the United States bank is at
this place. The bank was entered lately by a
man named Harper, acting under the authority of the
state, and a large amount of money was taken out.
Harper and his attendants in gaol. Mob threatens
to release them. Bank of the United States and
all its branches are much abused by the inhabitants
and some very impudent threats made. When the
bank was entered by Harper no resistance was made
by its officers. Passed Tarlton and Kingston,
two inconsiderable villages.
Saturday, Oc. Left
Chillicothe at 7 o’clock a. m. Arrived at
Sinking Springs, a little village, after traveling
a distance of thirty-three miles. Passed over
some rich bottoms, neat farms and very fertile prairies.
A few poor ridges, part level, part mountainous.
People look healthy, but are extremely impudent and
lazy. Game is abundant deer, turkeys, partridges
and squirrels.
Sunday, Oc. Left Sinking
Springs at 7 o’clock a. m. Traveled to
West Union, a little village. Distance twenty-three
miles. Lands of three qualities, broken, barren
and mountainous. Miserable log huts. Inhabitants
more polite and civil. Crossed Brush creek at
the foot of a small mountain. At this place met
some travelers, among them some Philadelphians.
The inhabitants in this part of the country generally
emigrants. Real Ohios, real savages in appearance
and manners, destitute of every degree of politeness.
Not uncommon for a man to follow three or four occupations.
For example, John Noble follows both tailoring and
saddlering. My barber is also a waiter on the
table, assistant cook and hostler. In this town
one man is a lawyer, a merchant and an apothecary.
Monday, Oc. Left West
Union at 10 o’clock a. m. My friend having
business here, we lost one day. Traveled over
a poor, hilly and mountainous country for seventeen
miles and arrived at Limestone. Crossed the Ohio
in a horse-boat and landed at Maysville, Ky., at 5
o’clock p. m., bidding a willing adieu to Ohio,
not leaving behind a single individual whom we ever
wished to see again. I must confess from the
many favorable representations made of the habits,
manners and state of society and quality of the lands
in the state of Ohio, I was prepared to meet a different
soil and a different people from those just left.
Before I take a final leave of Ohio I must mention
an occurrence that transpired a few days previous
to our arrival in New Lancaster. Ten or fifteen
friendly Indians were traveling from near New York
to visit their red brethren in the west. They
were poor, but peaceable and well behaved. When
they were within about twenty-five miles of New Lancaster
three of the Indians were unable to keep up with the
leading party, a man, a young squaw and a child.
Those unoffending and unfortunate people were waylaid
by three monsters in human shape, ruffians belonging
to the neighborhood. They lay hid until those
three Indians got in a rake, and then fired upon them,
intending to kill all at the same shot. The child
and man escaped unhurt, but the unfortunate female
had her thigh broken and received a ball in the abdomen.
No hope was entertained of her recovery. The
villains were taken and committed to prison. The
only reason given by them for committing this extraordinary
outrage was that during the war the Indians had murdered
in battle some of their connections or relatives.
Tuesday, Oc. Maysville
is a growing little village, situated on the Ohio
and reaching in a southerly direction to the foot of
a small mountain. Left Maysville at 6 o’clock
a. m. and arrived four miles beyond the Blue Licks
at 5 o’clock, a distance of thirty miles.
Passed Washington, May Licks and some smaller villages.
Some good land, some very poor. Country mountainous
and stony. Great difficulty in obtaining meat
or drink during the day, although taverns are plenty.
The Blue Licks are rude, uncultivated, stony barrens,
poor beyond description and extremely difficult to
travel over. Passed several dead horses on the
road. An infectious disease called the sore tongue
had produced their deaths, and was to be found at
every stable for hundreds of miles. Men, cows,
hogs and sheep were subject to it. Being tired,
hungry and disappointed in the appearance of the country,
I retired to bed early. On the 25th inst. the
ground was covered with snow. Little or no rain
had fallen in this part of the country for near six
months. Many creeks nearly dry. Great difficulty
in obtaining water to drink. Passed some salt
springs and wells. Salt $2.50 per bushel, coffee
50 cents per pound. Those prices will sound very
high to the merchants of Philadelphia.
Wednesday, Oc. Left
Artis’ tavern, thirty miles from Maysville, at
7 o’clock a. m. Traveled over a very fertile
country, a distance of seventeen miles, and arrived
at a neat little town called Paris. Passed some
handsome houses. Saw many negroes. They were
ragged, foolish, and, in appearance, miserable.
Paris, as a town, has some claim to beauty. It
is placed on an eminence. Many of the houses are
brick and of handsome shape. There is constantly
that stir and bustle which denotes a place of business.
The country around is fertile, and, although there
is no navigable stream near, the eye is prevented
from falling too heavily on the neighboring fields
and valleys by the winding of a small stream, upon
which there is a busy-looking mill.
“How often have I paused
on every charm
The sheltered cot, the
cultivated farm,
The never-failing brook,
the busy mill,
The decent church that
topped the neighboring hill.”
In this little town we met a hearty
welcome. The inhabitants are polite and hospitable.
The singular variety which is to be found in the human
family by a traveler is difficult to be described.
Indeed, every hundred miles would take a small volume.
Straggling play-actors and tightrope dancers had found
their way to Paris, besides other amusements which
were to be found in this sprightly little town, which
had a tendency to make our time pass very agreeably.
On Wednesday night at 11 o’clock, I was called
to visit Miss Craughan, sister of Col. Craughan,
an old acquaintance. I found her dangerously
ill with quinsy. Large bleedings and some other
medicines gave relief. Was compelled to leave
her and proceed on my journey. Heard of her recovery.
Interesting lady.
Thursday, Oc. Left
Thorgmorton’s tavern at 9 o’clock a. m.
Good roads; fair weather; generous people; good land
and neat dwellings. Dined in Lexington, a town
of considerable size, and a place of great business.
Saw large numbers of country people dealing in stores.
Met and overtook but few travelers the last three
or four days. Traveled this day thirty-two miles
to Cole’s. The lands not so fertile and
a little hilly.
Friday, Oc. Left Cole’s
at 6 o’clock a. m. Breakfasted at Frankfort,
the seat of the government of Kentucky. It is
situated in a deep valley near a stream, surrounded
with high and uneven hills, and at a distance, from
its shape and situation, it resembles a garden laid
off in squares. A very handsome bridge, neatly
painted, is thrown across the Kentucky river, which,
together with some public buildings erected with considerable
taste, assist much in enlivening and adding beauty
and elegance to the appearance of the town. Left
Frankfort at 9 o’clock. Crossed the Kentucky
river, which was only three feet wide, owing to the
uncommon drought. Foot passengers were crossing
on a rail. Passed through Shelbyville, a small
village. Many creeks, rivers and branches entirely
dry. Every animal suffering for water. The
farmers compelled to cart a sufficient quantity to
support life, many miles. No water to be obtained
in the village for our horses. Fortunately we
were enabled to purchase some on the road. Traveled
twenty-nine miles to Smith’s. Lands rich.
Country broken on the old road. Deep valleys.
Frightful precipices. Beech woods. Large
trees. Good corn. Warm and dry weather.
Saturday, Oc. Left
Smith’s at 7 o’clock a. m. Traveled
over a very rich and flat country. Passed through
Middletown, and at 4 o’clock arrived at Louisville,
after traveling twenty-eight miles. This day
being Saturday, and having met some old friends and
acquaintances, a party was made up to visit the Louisville
theater. Philadelphia being the theater for all
great performers, curiosity was on tip-toe to view
the players of Louisville. The theater is a neat
little building. It was but thinly attended,
owing to the pressure of the times. The play was
“Wives as They Were and Maids as They Are,”
Mr. Drake and Mrs. Grochong supporting the principal
characters. Their persons, features, voices and
gestures were fine, appearing to possess the nicest
feelings and tenderest sympathies, and, in my opinion,
they were well suited to a better stage. The
play better performed than expected. Indeed, I
may say well performed, if I may be permitted to add
there was more than one of the actors who was unfeeling,
unmeaning, made of wood and more like a gate-post
than an animated being. This had the happiest
of effects, for after shedding tears of grief at interesting
parts of the play they were kept flowing with laughter
at those ridiculous performers making tragedy into
comedy. Louisville is a flourishing town immediately
on the banks of the Ohio. The town and business
principally confined to one street. The inhabitants
are polite, hospitable and live fast.
Sunday, No. This day
was spent in visiting a family near Louisville, friends
of my youthful days, whom I had not seen for eighteen
years. As I approached the dwelling, happy days
that are never to return, pleasant hours, youthful,
happy and blooming faces, joyous scenes and many dear
moments, flashed suddenly across my mind. But
judge of my disappointment on meeting the remains
of this amiable family. I will not attempt to
express feelings that in the human language know no
description. Mrs. M , a truly
good woman, had been borne to that shore “from
whence no traveler returns.” Her daughter,
who was the admiration of all that knew her, soon
followed. The remains of the family which eighteen
years ago was young and fashionable, elegant and beautiful,
had become sedate, crooked, wrinkled and even gray.
To witness the ravages of time produced a gloom which
lasted several days. I took an affectionate leave
of them, never expecting to see them again.
Tuesday, No. Remained
in Louisville Monday and part of today. Left
Aleen’s the 2d. Passed through Shipping
Port, on the bank of the Ohio, two and one-half miles
below Louisville. A very promising little village.
Twelve or thirteen steamboats lying at this place aground,
owing to the unusual drought. Curiosity induced
me to go on board the largest steamboat in the world,
lying at this place. She is called the United
States, and is owned by a company of gentlemen.
I have taken down her dimensions: Length of keel,
165 feet 8 inches; depth of hold, 11 feet 3 inches;
breadth of beam and girder, 56 feet; length on deck,
176 feet 8 inches; breadth of beam without girder,
37 feet. This mammoth boat has eight boilers
and elegant accommodations for a large number of passengers.
Many of the steamships lying at this place are built
on improved plans and are very handsome. We crossed
the Ohio at a point where it is three-quarters of
a mile wide. Passed through New Albany, Ind.,
a little village inhabited by tavernkeepers and mechanics.
Traveled to Miller’s, a distance of six miles
over the knobs. Country very much broken.
Some steep hills and sugar-loaf knobs. The woods
being on fire, a scene truly sublime presented itself
at night. The lands indifferent. Weather
warm and dry. Passed many travelers bound to the
west, and met three or four wagons with families returning
from the promised land. Slept in a house without
glass in the windows and no fastenings to the doors.
The inhabitants impudent and lazy beyond example.
Supped on cabbage, turnips, pickles, beets, beefsteak
made of pickled beef, rye coffee and sage tea.
The people of Indiana differ widely from Kentuckians
in habits, manners and even dialect. Whilst hospitality,
politeness and good sense characterize Kentuckians,
ignorance, impudence and laziness has stamped the Indianians.