Chapter III (1)

Father of all, 'tis thine to give,
Not what our erring pray'r demands;
With joy thy blessings we receive,
And bow submissive 'neath thy hand.

_Sept. 7th_.--First appearance of the gulf-weed. The trade wind, between the Equator and the extent of the northern Tropic, setting from the eastward, forces the water against the islands, and at length into the gulf of Mexico where it meets with an uniform opposition from the main, causing a strong current to the N.E., or points somewhat in that direction. This stream is so violent as to tear up the sea weeds in the gulf, and bear them as far to the north as latitude 44: the stream is soon after absorbed in the Western ocean; but causes certain counter currents, which, for want of being properly allowed for by mariners, have been the causes of many shipwrecks.

_Sept. 8th_.--Fine morning; wind at W.S.W. A beautiful dolphin struck at an artificial flying fish, hanging at our bow-sprit; the hook breaking, he escaped;--continued playing round our bows for some time, and struck at several flying fish; but we could not again tempt him with the artificial bait.

_Mem_. To read this lesson once a month.

_Sept. 9th_.--Calm and fog, several flocks of wild fowl. Suppose ourselves near the banks of Newfoundland. Thermometer sunk 18 degrees since yesterday.

_Sept. 10th_.--Pleasant morning, having run to the S.W. during the night: no sign of the banks. A land bird, of the thrush kind, came and settled on our main yard; seemed quite exhausted; fell upon the deck, and was taken up by the cabin boy. The poor creature must have been driven off the coast of America in a violent gale at N.W., the distance from any land being upwards of a thousand miles; no other circumstance could account for it's flying so far.

_Sept. 19th_.--Wind at N.N.W. very moderate;--the afternoon calm. The sun set this evening with uncommon beauty, that glorious luminary was surrounded with clouds of a vivid yellow, green, and red; strongly shaded with black half the extent of the horizon. The moon at the same time rising to the east-ward, with a cool and faint sky, formed a strong and beautiful contrast.

_Sept. 21st_.--Wind S. with rain. Caught four dolphins, which afforded us a most delicious repast: in the paunch of one was found a dodon, or globe-fish; the sailors call it a parrot-fish, from its having a beak exactly resembling that bird.--At 9 A.M. spoke with the Queen Charlotte of London, bound to Bristol, out ten days from Baltimore; the captain's account of the longitude 67. Our joy in being so near the land was of short continuance; for, in one hour after, we spoke with the Union, eight days from Philadelphia. The captain informed us, there was a sort of plague in that city, which carries off great numbers, and that ten thousand of the inhabitants had fled to the country, to avoid the infection.

_Sept. 24th_.--Soundings at 60 fathom: lay to all night.

_Sept. 25th_.--Woke with the cry of "Land." At 10 A.M. we took a pilot on board: he informed us the disorder at Philadelphia is the yellow fever, imported in a french schooner from the West Indies; some of the passengers of this vessel died of this fatal disorder, at a lodging-house in Water-street, and communicated the infection to the family. It is now spreading rapidly through the city, in all directions. The faculty, so far from being able to cure this disorder, have, in several instances, fallen victims to it's fury. Within this few days, a Dr. Rush has discovered this disorder is _not_ the yellow fever of the West Indies and has applied an opposite mode of cure by copious bleedings, mercurial medicines, &c. with some success. What is truly extraordinary, the infection does not affect _people of colour!_

_Sept. 28th._--Came to an anchor off Glocester Point, five miles below Philadelphia: the vessel proceeds no further at present, as all intercourse with the city is cut off, and business at a stand.

_October 1st_.

Brought my baggage on shore, and arrived, at four in the afternoon, at Woodbury, the county town of Glocester, in the state of West Jersey. With some difficulty I procured a lodging within half a mile of the town. Woodbury consists of about fifty well built houses, chiefly inhabited by quakers, and other dissenters of the most rigid kind; so very primitive are they in their appearance, that a barber cannot make a living among them.

_Oct. 13th_.--Spent the last ten days in shooting, and rambling about the woods. The face of the country is exactly that of an immense forest, entirely covered with wood, except the plantation cleared by the settlers. The land sandy, and by no means of a good quality; the chief produce maize, or indian corn. I counted the increase of _one_ stalk with three ears; the amount of the grains were upward of _one thousand two hundred_.

_Oct. 16th_.--I believe the Americans conceive their woods to be inexhaustible. My landlord this day cut down thirty-two young cedars to make a hog-pen. A settler informs me, he raised a gum tree from the seed, which, in sixteen years, measured twenty inches diameter, three feet from it's base. He tells, me they have ten species of oak; viz, white, black, red, spanish, turkey, chesnut, ground, water, barren, and live oak. The white, turkey, and chesnut are used for ship-timber; the acorn of the latter very superiour in size to any other. Red oak is chiefly used for pipe-staves, and exported to most parts of Europe, and the West Indies. Black oak is a dry wood, and easily splits; is chiefly used for the rails and fences of their enclosures. Ground oak is bushy, and seldom exceeds six feet in height; it bears a small acorn of a very superiour flavour, which is the chief food of the deer, and sheep, who run wild in the woods. Water and barren oak are small and bushy, and only used for firing. Live oak is _said_ to be very superiour to all the rest, and the best _ship-timber_ in the world. I am informed it is a sort of evergreen, seldom met with north of the Carolinas.

_Oct. 26th_.--Went to Philadelphia.--After crossing the Delaware, I found the land very different from the Jersey shore; a fine stiff black soil, the clover growing spontaneously. The city exhibited a most melancholy spectacle; most of the houses and stores shut up, and grass growing in many of the streets; what few _white_ inhabitants I met with had a most dejected appearance. The disorder has been most favourable to the softer sex; women with child, and those above and under a certain age, were in general free from the infection: but so fatal has it proved to the other sex, that, in Apple-tree-alley, which does not exceed fifty yards in length, there are upwards of sixty widows within these two months. The total loss on this melancholy occasion already exceeds four thousand, nearly one tenth of the inhabitants! Returning to Woodbury, I met with a quaker, who informed me of the _cause_ of the infectious disorder in the Great City: "_It is_ a judgment on the inhabitants for their sins, insomuch that they sent to England for a number of play-actors, singers, and _musicians_, who were _actually arrived_; and as a just judgment on the Philadelphians for encouraging these _children of iniquity_, they were now afflicted with the yellow fever." I told him, that more likely the sins of the _quakers_ had drawn down this judgment on the city _of brotherly love_, and that it was now scourged for _their_ hypocrisy, lying, canting, and other _manifold iniquities_.

_Oct. 27th_.--Very cold wind at N.W. In the evening snow.

_Oct. 29th_.--Favourable accounts from Philadelphia: the late cold weather has entirely stopped the progress of the disorder.

_November 26th_.

Set out for Annapolis, and arrived there in health, the 29th, at five in the afternoon.

* * * * *

_Annapolis, 17th December, 1793._

DEAR FRIEND,

The bay of Chesapeak is one of the largest in the world. From it's entrance, between capes Henry and Charles, to the mouth of the Susquana, which forms the head of the bay, the distance is two hundred and eighty miles, through which great extent of water the tide ebbs and flows. This bay receives into it's bosom the following rivers; viz. the Patomac, the Rappahanock, the Patapsico, the York, the James, the Severn, and the Elk, beside innumerable creeks, and small streams. On an inlet from this bay, about two hundred miles from it's entrance from the Atlantic, stands Annapolis, the capital of the state of Maryland, so called in honour of queen Anne, as appears from the following extract from their charter:--

"Anne, by the grace of God, queen of Great Britain, &c....

"To all, and singular, our faithful subjects within our province of Maryland, greeting.... Whereas there is a pleasant and commodious place for trade ... laid out for a town, and port, and called Annapolis, in honour of us."

This city was intended for the emporium of the province; and surely no spot ever _seemed_ better calculated for a town of trade and commerce. Far to the south, and in one of the most pleasant and healthy situations in America; as the seat of government, being the greatest, and indeed then _only_ mercantile town in the province; the bay of Chesapeak, and adjacent rivers, wafting the tobacco and other produce of the country to this mart at a trifling expense; a harbour where ships might ride at anchor in perfect security, and where wharfs, with sufficient depth of water for a vessel of eight hundred tons, might be formed with very little trouble: but unfortunately these advantages were rendered abortive by the bite of a small insect; the worms are so troublesome in these waters, that a vessel lying in this harbour during the summer months will be as full of holes as a honey-comb. Baltimore, a town on a similar inlet from the bay, about thirty miles hence, being free from this plague, (by having a great proportion of fresh water from the Patapsico in it's harbour) has drawn all the trade from the _capital_: the Annapolians have now but _one_ square-rigged vessel belonging to their port, while their rivals have many hundreds, and drive a brisk trade to the four quarters of the globe.

Annapolis is whimsically laid out, the streets verging from each other, like rays from a centre. It is still the seat of government; and it's state-house is by much the best building I have seen in America. This little city is now the retreat of some of the best families in the state. The inhabitants in general are passionately fond of theatrical entertainments, and received us with a degree of kindness and hospitality which claims our warmest acknowledgments. I spend my time here very agreeably. The politeness, ease, and conviviality of the Annapolians form a strong and pleasing contrast to the behaviour of the stiff, gloomy and unsocial bigots I was lately surrounded with in the Jerseys. Next to Virginia, this state was the most famous for tobacco-plantations; but the people now find the culture of wheat more profitable, as well as less injurious to the soil. No plant impoverishes the earth so much by it's growth as tobacco; many plantations, owing to successive crops of this _weed_, are what is here called _worn out_; formerly, when their land was in this state, instead of endeavouring to bring it round by a few fallow years and manure, as in England, they immediately cleared a fresh tract. They now begin to use manure, and have discovered a very extraordinary kind; viz. antediluvian oyster-shells, large beds of which are found a few feet beneath the surface of the earth in several parts of the state[Footnote: See Bartram's Account of a similar Bed in Georgia, page 213.]: these being laid on the land, are, by the effect of the air, crumbled into dust in a few days, and fertilize the earth in an astonishing degree.--Farewell.--Conclude me

Yours very sincerely, &c.

_Philadelphia, 27th February, 1794._

DEAR FRIEND,

On the fourth instant I left Annapolis on my way to this city. After travelling eight miles, we passed through a long and dreary wood; here we met two negroes conveying a coffin on a sort of sledge. On inquiry, one of them informed us, the coffin contained the corpse of his mother; that on the death of his old master, his parents were sold to different planters, which his father took so much to heart, that he died soon after; his mother only survived him about five months; and they were now complying with her last request, which was, to be carried to a plantation about eight miles thence, and there buried with her husband. There seemed a great degree of dejection in the poor fellow's countenance; and I could not help telling him, by way of consolation, that his father and mother were gone to a better place, where there was no distinction of colour, and where no white man would dare again to part them; but as _words_ are _wind_, we agreed to administer some more _solid_ consolation, which the black man received with a look of gratitude, then cast his eye towards his mother's corpse, and shed a silent tear. Why was not _Sterne_ present at this scene?

I slept at an inn, about twenty miles from Annapolis, where we supped in the American fashion on fried squirrels and coffee, the former excellent.

_Feb. 5th_.--Arrived at Baltimore, and hired a caravan with four horses, which is here called a stage: the same afternoon we arrived at the Susquana. This noble river, which is here about a mile and a quarter wide, was frozen hard. Our _advanced guard_ crossed the day before, in a ferry boat: this circumstance will give you some idea of the severity of the cold in this climate. A negro slave, belonging to the ferry, undertook to drive our stage over the river for two dollars, which his _master put into his pocket_, and ordered _Sambo_ to proceed; the fellow drove boldly, and was across in a few minutes, the ice cracking most horribly all the way. I suppose I need not inform you, we were _not_ in the carriage.

On the evening of the 7th we slept at Wilmington, a pleasantly situate town on the banks of a creek, which joins the Delaware, about thirty miles below Philadelphia. There are about thirty square-rigged vessels, beside sloops, and schooners, belonging to this port, which was originally a danish settlement.

The next morning I walked to Brandywine, to see the grist mills, which are said to be the best in the United States. About five miles from this village was fought the battle of Brandywine. This was Washington's last effort to stop general Howe's progress, and save Philadelphia. The royal army being victorious, they got possession of that city without opposition. General Washington, after rallying his troops, took a very advantageous situation on a chain of hills, a few miles west of the British army.

We dined at Chester. This little town is situated on the Delaware, and is the same to Philadelphia that Gravesend is to London. Ships outward bound here receive their passengers, &c. &c.

At four the same day, arrived in this city, distant from Annapolis one hundred and forty one miles, and from Baltimore one hundred and eleven. Farewell.

Yours, &c.

* * * * *

_Philadelphia, March 1st, 1794._

DEAR SIR,

I perfectly agree with you, that the form of government in a great measure _affects_, or rather _forms_ the manners, and way of thinking of the people; but must decline answering the queries in your last, at least for the present. I have not been long enough in these states to draw any fair conclusions on these subjects; but that you may not be wholly disappointed, I send you two anecdotes, on which you may depend.

Peter Brown, a blacksmith of this city, having made his fortune, set up his coach; but so far from being ashamed of the means by which he acquired his riches, he caused a large _anvil_ to be painted on each pannel of his carriage, with two naked arms in the act of striking. The motto, "_By this I got ye_."

Benjamin Whitall, high sheriff for the county of Gloster, West Jersey, being obliged soon after his appointment to attend an execution, not approving of Jack Ketch's clumsy method of _finishing the law_, fairly tucked up the next criminal _himself_. Such behaviour in Germany would have branded him with eternal infamy, but is in this country (I think justly) thought a spirited action of a man, who was above receiving the emoluments of an office, without performing the most essential duty annexed to it himself.

I have often heard it asserted, that a servant should be born under an absolute monarchy: whether this observation is just or not, I cannot tell, but I know, that a republic is _not_ the place to find good servants. If you want to hire a maid servant in this city, she will not allow you the title of _master_, or herself to be called a _servant_; and you may think yourself favoured if she condescends to inform you when she means to spend an evening abroad; if you grumble at all this, she will leave you at a moment's warning; after which you will find it very difficult to procure another on any terms. This is one of the natural consequences of liberty and equality.

Farewell, &c.

_March 3d, 1794._

Dear friend,

Philadelphia, the present seat of government, both of the state of Pensylvania, and of the whole federal union, consisted, in the year 1681, of half a dozen miserable huts, inhabited by a few emigrants from Sweden; when the celebrated William Penn obtained a charter from king Charles the Second, for a certain tract of unsettled country in North America, extending from twelve miles north of Newcastle, along the courses of the Delaware, and a meridian line from its head, to the 43d degree of north latitude, and westward, 5 degrees of longitude from its eastern bounds.

In the year following, he arrived, and in 1701 the city was finally laid out from Cedar-street to Vine-street, forming an oblong square of two miles in length, from the river Delaware to the Scuylkill; and about a mile in width. It was the wish of the founder, that the fronts facing the _two_ rivers should be _equally_ built upon; by which means the city would naturally meet in the centre; but they have not only deviated from the original plan, by running the city along the banks of the Delaware, _beyond_ the aforesaid streets, which formed the bounds in that direction, but have left the _Scuylkill_ front without a single street.

Philadelphia is situate in latitude 39 deg. 56 min. north, and long. 75 deg. 8 min. west from Greenwich, on a narrow neck of land, between the rivers Delaware and Scuylkill, on the Pensylvania banks of the latter, where this river is about one mile wide, and one hundred and twenty (following it's course) from the Atlantic Ocean. This noble river affords a safe navigation for vessels of a thousand tuns burden up to the wharfs of the city. The Scuylkill (though by no means so wide) has nearly the same depth of water.

Philadelphia is the first port in the Union. The total value of it's exports in the year 1793, was 695736 dollars; the total of flower shipped in the year 1792 was 420000 barrels, and in the spring only of 1793 it exceeded 200000 barrels.

The total of inward entries at Philadelphia, in 1793, was 1414 vessels of different sizes, of which 477 were ships or brigs.

It is foreign from the subject of this city, but I cannot help informing you, that the imports of the _United States_ from _Great Britain_ alone, in the year 1791, were stated at 19502070 dollars, (chiefly of _manufactured articles_) and have been considerably increasing every year since.

By a slight inspection of the plan, you will perceive the great regularity observed in laying out this city; the streets intersect each other at right angles, the centre street, north and south, is 113 feet wide; that east and west 100 feet; and the other principal streets 50 feet wide. Had equal care been taken to build the houses uniformly, and their height in proportion to the width of the streets, this city would have been uncommonly beautiful; but except that the fronts of the buildings were not permitted to extend beyond the line laid down in the plan, every man built his house (to use the language of the first settlers,) "as it seemed good in his own eyes."

The first object of an industrious emigrant, who means to settle in Philadelphia, is to purchase a lot of ground in one of the vacant streets. He erects a small building forty or fifty feet from the line laid out for him by the city surveyor, and lives there till he can afford to build a house; when his former habitation serves him for a kitchen and wash-house. I have observed buildings in this state in the heart of the city; but they are more common in the outskirts. Our friend Wright is exactly in this situation; but I am afraid it will be many years before he will be able to build in _front_.

The buildings in this city are about two thirds of brick, and the rest of wood. The foundations of the former are in general of a species of marble; the bricks are uncommonly well manufactured; and these buildings are more firmly constructed than in Europe. Those of wood are the reverse, which you will easily credit, when I inform you, that when a house of this description is offered for sale, it is by no means understood, as in England, that the _land_ on which it stands is included in the purchase. They have a method of removing these buildings _entire_. A house _travelling_ in this manner through the streets of the city is to a European a truly grotesque and extraordinary sight.

During the time the British troops had possession of this city in the last war, they were much distressed for fuel, and obliged to cut down all the wood they could meet with; upwards of a thousand acres of peach and apple orchard were destroyed, belonging to one family. This destruction of the trees has materially hurt the prospects for three or four miles on the Pensylvania side; the opposite Jersey shore (except the plantations) is one entire forest.

Philadelphia is at present supplied with water from pumps, placed in different parts of the city; but a company of adventurers are bringing water from above the falls of Scuylkill, in the manner of the New River in London: but mean to improve on sir Hugh Middleton's plan, by making their aqueduct also serve the purposes of inland navigation.

The inhabitants are in general very fond of theatrical representations; their new theatre is an elegant building, from a design the subscribers obtained from London, where the principal scenes were painted by Richardson and Rooker. The receipts of the house have exceeded one thousand six hundred dollars.

The fair Philadelphians are by no means so fond of walking, as the English ladies; not that they have any _great dislike_ to a _trip_ into the _country_, but it is not fashionable even for a maid servant to make use of her _legs_ on these occasions; the consequence is, that there are 806 two and four wheeled machines entered at the office, and pay duty, as _pleasure carriages_, most of which are for hire; and yet the inhabitants do not exceed 50000, of whom there are not three individuals but follow some profession, trade, or employment. In a few days I shall have an opportunity of sending you a publication, which will give you a more ample account of this city than you now receive from

Yours, &c.

Since writing this letter, the seat of government of the state has been removed to Lancaster, as being nearer the centre; for the same reason, that of the general government of the United States, will, in the year 1800, be removed to the federal city, now building in the district of Columbia.

Several _uniform_ and elegant rows of houses have _lately_ been built.

* * * * *

_Philadelphia, March 7th, 1794._

DEAR SIR,

It is a general observation with respect to the English, that they eat more animal food than the people of any other nation. The following statement of the manner of living of the Americans[Footnote: By the term _American_ you must understand a white man descended from a native of the Old Continent; and by the term _Indian_, or _Savage_, one of the aborigines of the New World.] will convince you of the falsity of this opinion.

About eight or nine in the morning they breakfast on tea and coffee, attended always with what they call _relishes_, such as salt fish, beef-steaks, sausages, broiled-fowls, ham, bacon, &c. At two they dine on what is usual in England, with a variety of american dishes, such as bear, opossum, racoon, &c. At six or seven in the evening they have their supper, which is exactly the same as their breakfast, with the addition of what cold meat is left at dinner. I have often wondered how they acquired this method of living, which is by no means calculated for the climate; such stimulating food at breakfast and supper naturally causes thirst, and there being no other beverage at these meals than tea, or coffee, they are apt to drink too freely of them, particularly the female part of the family; which, during the excessive heats in summer, is relaxing and debilitating; and in winter, by opening the pores, exposes them to colds of the most dangerous kind.

The manner of living I have been describing is that of people in moderate circumstances; but this taste for _relishes_ with coffee and tea extends to all ranks of people in these states. Soon after my arrival at this city, I went on a party of pleasure to a sort of tea-garden and _tavern_[Footnote: By the word _tavern,_ in America, is meant an inn or public house of any description.], romantically situate on the bank of the Scuylkill. At six in the evening we ordered coffee, which I was informed they were here famous for serving _in style_. I took a memorandum of what was on the table; viz. _coffee, cheese, sweet cakes, hung beef, sugar, pickled salmon, butter, crackers, ham, cream_, and _bread_. The ladies all declared, it was a most _charming relish_!

Yours sincerely, &c.

* * * * *

_Philadelphia, March 12th, 1794._

Dear Friend,

The price of labour in this country is very great, owing to the prospect an industrious man has of procuring an independance by cultivating a tract of the waste lands; many millions of acres of which are how on sale by government; to say nothing of those held by individuals. The money arising from the sale of the former is appropriated to the discharge of the national debt.

During my residence in Jersey, I was at no little pains to inform myself of the difficulties attending a back settler. We will suppose a person making such an attempt to possess one hundred pounds, though many have been successful with a much less sum: his first care is to purchase about three hundred acres of land, which, if it is in a remote western settlement, he will procure for about nineteen pounds sterling: he may know the quality of the land by the trees, with which it is entirely covered. The hickory and the walnut are an infallible sign of a rich, and every species of fir, of a barren, sandy, and unprofitable soil. When his land is properly registered, his next care is to provide himself with a horse, a plough, and other implements of agriculture; a rifle, a fowling piece, some ammunition, and a large dog of the blood-hound breed, to hunt deer. We will suppose him arrived at the place of his destination in spring, as soon as the ground is clear of frost. No sooner is the arrival of a new settler circulated, than, for many miles round, his neighbours flock to him: they all assist in erecting his hut; this is done with logs; a bricklayer is only wanting to make his chimney and oven. He then clears a few acres by cutting down the large trees about four feet from the _ground_[Footnote: These stumps are many years rotting, and, when completely rotted, afford an excellent manure.], grubs up the underwood, splits some of the large timber for railing fences, and sets fire to the rest upon the spot; ploughs round the stumps of the large timber, and in May plants maize, or indian corn. In October he has a harvest of eight hundred or a thousand fold. This is every thing to him and his family. Indian corn, ground and made into cakes, answers the end of bread, and when boiled with meat, and a small proportion of a sort of kidney-bean (which it is usual to sow with this grain), it makes an excellent dish, which they call _hominy_. They also coarsely pound the indian corn, and boil it for five hours; this is by the Indians called _mush_; and, when a proportion of milk is added, forms their breakfast. Indian corn is also the best food for horses employed in agriculture in this climate: black cattle, deer, and hogs are very fond of it, and fatten better than on any other grain. It is also excellent food for turkies, and other poultry.

When this harvest is in, he provides himself with a cow, and a few sheep and hogs; the latter run wild in the woods. But for a few years he depends chiefly on his _rifle_, and _faithful dog_; with these he provides his family with deer, bear, racoon, &c.; but what he values most are the black, and gray squirrels; these animals are large and numerous, are excellent roasted, and make a soup exceedingly rich and nourishing.

He gradually clears his land, a few acres every year, and begins to plant wheat, tobacco, &c. These, together with what hogs, and other increase of his stock he can spare, as also the skins of deer, bear, and other animals he shoots in the woods, he exchanges with the nearest storekeeper, for clothing, sugar, coffee, &c.

In this state he suffers much for want of the comforts and even _necessaries_ of life. Suppose him afflicted with a flux or fever, attacked by a panther, bitten by a rattle-snake, or any other of the dreadful circumstances peculiar to his situation: but, above all, suppose a war to break out between the Indians, and him, and his whole family scalped, and their plantations burnt!

The following extract from an American work very feelingly describes him under these cruel apprehensions:--

EXTRACT.

"You know the position of our settlement; therefore I need not describe it. To the west it is enclosed by a chain of mountains, reaching to----. To the east, the country is yet but very thinly inhabited. We are almost insulated, and the houses are at a considerable distance from each other. From the mountains we have but too much reason to expect our dreadful enemy, the Indians; and the wilderness is a harbour, where it is impossible to find them. It is a door through which they can enter our country at any time; and as they seem determined to destroy the whole frontier, our fate cannot be far distant. From lake Champlain almost all has been conflagrated, one after another. What renders these incursions still more dreadful is, that they most commonly take place in the dead of the night. We never go to our fields, but we are seized with an involuntary fear, which lessens our strength, and weakens our labour. No other subject of discourse intervenes between the different accounts, which spread through the country, of successive acts of devastation; and these, told in chimney corners, swell themselves in our affrighted imaginations into the most terrific ideas. We never sit down, either to dinner, or supper, but the least noise spreads a general alarm, and prevents us from enjoying the comforts of our meals. The very appetite proceeding from labour and peace of mind is gone! Our sleep is disturbed by the most frightful dreams! Sometimes I start awake, as if the great hour of danger was come; at other times the howling of our dogs seems to announce the arrival of the enemy: we leap out of bed, and run to arms; my poor wife, with panting bosom, and silent tears, takes leave of me, as if we were to see each other no more. She snatches the youngest children from their beds, who, suddenly awakened, increase by their innocent questions the horrour of the dreadful moment! She tries to hide them in the cellar, as if our cellar was inaccessible to the fire! I place all my servants at the window, and myself at the door, where I am determined to perish. Fear industriously increases every sound; we all listen; each communicates to each other his fears and conjectures. We remain thus, sometimes for whole hours, our hearts and our minds racked by the most anxious suspense! What a dreadful situation! A thousand times worse than that of a soldier engaged in the midst of a most severe conflict! Sometimes feeling the spontaneous courage of a man, I seem to wish for the decisive minute; the next instant a message from my wife, sent by one of the children, quite unmans me. Away goes my courage, and I descend again into the deepest despondency: at last, finding it was a false alarm, we return once more to our beds; but what good can the sleep of nature do us, when interrupted with _such_ scenes?"

* * * * *

But we will suppose our planter to have escaped the scalping knife and tomahawk; and in the course of years situate in a thick, settled neighbourhood of planters like himself, who have struggled through all the foregoing difficulties: he is now a man of some consequence, builds a house by the side of his former hut, which now serves him for a kitchen; and as he is comfortably situate, we will leave him to the enjoyment of the fruits of his industry.

Such a being has often ideas of liberty, and a contempt of vassalage and slavery, which do honour to human nature.

The planter I have endeavoured to describe, I have supposed to be sober and industrious: but when a man of an opposite description makes such an attempt, he often degenerates into a demisavage; he cultivates no more land than will barely supply the family with bread, or rather makes his wife, and children perform that office. His whole employment is to procure skins, and furs, to exchange for rum, brandy, and ammunition; for this purpose he is often for several days together in the woods, without seeing a human being. He is by no means at a loss; his rifle supplies him with food, and at night he cuts down some boughs with his tomahawk, and constructs a _wigwam_[Footnote: The Indian name for their huts so constructed.], in which he spends the night, stretched on the skins of those animals he has killed in the course of his excursion. This manner of living he learned from his savage neighbours, the Indians, and like them calls every other state of life _slavery_. It sometimes happens, that an unsuccessful back settler joins the Indians at war with the states. When this is the case, it is observed he is, if possible, more cruel than his new allies; he eagerly imbibes all the vices of the savages, without a single spark of their virtues. Farewell,

Yours &c.

_Philadelphia, March 18th, 1794_.

Dear Friend,

My present intention is to give you some conception of the family of a planter, whose ancestors had in some degree gone through all the difficulties I described in my last.

We will suppose them descended from the original english emigrants, who came over with Penn; like them, to possess a high sense of religion; and that this family are now in the quiet possession of about three hundred acres of land, their own _property_[Footnote: There are very few _farms_ properly so called in the United States.], situate in Pennsylvania, about seventy or eighty miles from Philadelphia. Whatever difficulties they, or their ancestors, struggled formerly with, are now over; their lands are cleared, and in the bosom of a fine country, with a sure market for every article of produce they can possibly raise, and entirely out of the reach of the most desperate predatory excursions of the savages.

They enjoy a happy state of mediocrity[Footnote: The quakers in particular. I have seen at a meeting in West Jersey, in a very small town, upwards of two hundred carriages, one horse chairs, and light waggons, which are machines peculiar to this country, and well adapted to the sandy soil of the state of New Jersey; they are covered like a caravan, and will hold eight persons; the benches are removable at pleasure, and they are also used to convey the produce of the country to market.], between riches and poverty, perhaps the most enviable of all situations. When the boys of this family are numerous, those the father cannot provide for at home, and who prefer a planter's life to a trade, or profession, are, when married, presented with two or three hundred acres of uncultivated land, which their parents purchase for them as near home as possible. The young couple are supplied with stock, and supported till they have a sufficient quantity of land cleared to provide for themselves.

If unsuccessful through want of industry, &c., they often sell off, and emigrate to Kentucky, or some other new country seven or eight hundred miles to the S.W., and begin the world again as back settlers.

The daughters are brought up in habits of virtue and industry; the strict notions of female delicacy, instilled into their minds from their earliest infancy, never entirely forsake them. Even when one of these girls is decoyed from the peaceful dwelling of her parents, and left by her infamous seducer a prey to poverty and prostitution in a _brothel_ at Philadelphia, her whole appearance is neat, and breathes an air of modesty: you see nothing in her dress, language, or behaviour, that could give you any reason to guess at her unfortunate situation; (how unlike her unhappy sisters so circumstanced in England!) she by no means gives over the idea of a husband, she is seldom disappointed: and, I am informed, often makes an excellent wife.

The chief amusement of the country girls in winter is sleighing, of which they are passionately fond, as indeed are the whole sex in this country. I never heard a woman speak of this diversion but with rapture. You have doubtless read a description of a _sleigh_, or sledge, as it is common in all northern countries, and can only be used on the snow. In British America this amusement may be followed nearly all the winter; but so far to the south as Pennsylvania, the snow seldom lies on the ground more than seven or eight days together. The consequence is, that every moment that will admit of sleighing is seized on with avidity. The tavern and inn-keepers are up all night; and the whole country is in motion. When the snow begins to fall, our planter's daughters provide hot sand, which at night they place in bags at the bottom of the sleigh. Their sweethearts attend with a couple of horses, and away they glide with astonishing velocity; visiting their friends for many miles round the country. But in large towns, in order to have a sleighing frolic in _style_, it is necessary to provide a _fiddler_ who is placed at the head of the sleigh, and plays all the way. At every inn they meet with on the road, the company alight and have a dance. But I perceive I am _dancing_ from my subject, which I suppose you are by this time heartily tired of; I shall therefore conclude, by assuring you,

I am

Yours sincerely, &c.

* * * * *

"There be also store of frogs, which in the spring time will chirp, and whistle like birds: there be also toads, that will creep to the top of trees, and sit there croaking, to the wonderment of strangers!"

"To a stranger walking for the first time in these woods during the summer, this appears the land of enchantment: he hears a thousand noises, without being able to discern from whence or from what animal they proceed, but which are, in fact, the discordant notes of five different species of frogs!"

_Philadelphia, April 27th, 1794._

DEAR FRIEND,

Previous to my coming to this country, I recollect reading the foregoing passages, the first in a history of New England, published in London, in the year 1671; and the other in a similar production of a later date.

Prepared as I was to hear something extraordinary from these animals, I confess the first frog _concert_ I heard in America was so much beyond any thing I could conceive of the _powers_ of these _musicians_, that I was truly astonished. This _performance_ was _al fresco_, and took place on the night of the 18th instant, in a large _swamp_, where there were at least ten thousand _performers_; and I really believe not two _exactly_ in the same pitch, if the octave can possibly admit of so many divisions or shades of semitones. An hibernian musician, who, like myself, was present for the first time at this _concert_ of _antimusic_, exclaimed, "By Jasus but they stop out of tune to a _nicety!"_

I have been since informed by an _amateur_, who resided many years in this country, and made this species of _music_ his peculiar study, that on these occasions the _treble_ is performed by the tree-frogs, the smallest and most _beautiful_ species; they are always of the same colour as the bark of the tree they inhabit, and their note is not unlike the chirp of a cricket: the next in size are our _counter tenors_; they have a note resembling the _setting_ of a _saw_. A still larger species sing _tenor_; and the _under part_ is supported by the bull-frogs; which are as large as a man's foot, and _bellow_ out the _bass_ in a tone as loud and sonorous as that of the animal from which they take their name.

To an Englishman lately arrived in this country there are other phenomena, equally curious; as _fire-flies, night-hawks &c.;_ but, above all, such tremendous peals of thunder and flashes of lightning, as can be conceived only by those who have been in southern latitudes.

I have often thought, if an enthusiastic _cockney_, of weak nerves, who had never been out of the sound of Bow bell, could suddenly be conveyed from his bed, in the middle of the night, and laid, fast asleep, in an american swamp, he would, on waking, fancy himself in the infernal regions: his first sensation would be from the stings of a myriad of mosquitoes; waking with the smart, his ears would be assailed with the horrid noises of the frogs; on lifting up his eyes he would have a faint view of the night-hawks, flapping their ominous wings over his devoted head, visible only from the glimmering light of the fire-flies, which he would naturally conclude were sparks from the bottomless pit. Nothing would be wanting at this moment to complete the illusion, but one of those dreadful explosions of thunder and lightning, so _extravagantly_ described by Lee, in Oedipus:--

"Call you these peals of thunder, but the yawn or bellowing clouds? by Jove, they seem to me the world's last groans, and those large sheets of flame it's last blaze!"

I have often traversed the woods by myself at night, and sometimes during _such scenes_; and though I was conscious that all round me proceeded from natural causes, I could not at these times entirely forget,

"All that the _priest_ and all the nurse had taught."

Farewell.--Believe me

Yours very sincerely, &c.,

* * * * *

_Philadelphia, August 10th, 1794._

DEAR SIR,

Having a few weeks vacation at the theatre, we agreed upon a scheme to give three concerts at Lancaster, a town in Pennsylvania, about seventy miles west of this city. Our band was small, but select; and our singers Darley, and miss Broadhurst. We crossed the Scuylkill about two miles below the Falls.

The country, which, from the Atlantic to this spot, is nearly a level, now abruptly swells into hills, and rises as you advance westerly, till you reach the Allegany mountains, the great _back bone_ of America, as the Indians call that chain of mountains. There is then a considerable descent; but that the country rises afterward for many hundred miles is certain from the course of the rivers. No traveller has penetrated so far west, in these latitudes, as to find a river which did not ultimately run into the Atlantic Ocean,

We slept about a mile from the _Pioli_. I took a walk to reconnoitre the field of battle, with one who was present at that horrid affair.

General Wayne was here completely surprised, but had his revenge at Stoney Point.

After St. Claire's defeat, he was appointed by Congress to the command of the continental army in the present indian war. The fatal surprise at the Pioli has been an excellent lesson for him; since his present appointment he has established the most rigid discipline: this is of the utmost consequence in any army; but particularly so in _that_ he commands, as they have to contend with the most subtle and desperate foe on earth, flushed with their late victory over St. Claire.--In a former indian war, an army lay with it's rear and flanks well secured; a river three quarters of a mile broad in its front, and no enemy within fifty miles. A body of Indians, being informed by their scouts of the situation of this army, made a forced march, crossed the river in the night, on rafts hastily constructed, completely surprised the camp before sun-rise in the morning, butchered all before them, and made their retreat good with their scalps and plunder, before the enemy recovered from the general consternation. The system of military tactics Wayne has introduced is admirably adapted to the perilous service, in which he is engaged. He fights the Indians in their own way, and scalps are now taken on both sides.--There is expected to be warm work this campaign; and it is generally imagined Wayne will meet with the fate of Braddock and St. Clare. A few military men I have discoursed with, are of another opinion; they tell me the rifle-men of the western army were recruited from Kentucky, and other remote settlements, and are all experienced _back-woods-men_, who have been great part of their lives in the habits of Indian fighting; that the general is forming a body of cavalry, on principles entirely new, from which much is expected; in short, that Wayne will oblige the Indians to _bury the hatchet_ on his own terms. The Indian war is not popular. It has met with much opposition both in the General Assemblies of the States, and in Congress.

The devastation that has (even within the present century) taken place among the brave and independent aborigines of this continent, is really shocking to humanity[Footnote: The Cherokees are by no means the formidable body of warriors they were 40 years ago. The original possessors of the vast tract of land which forms North Carolina, are reduced to a single family; and several tribes of the eastern Indians actually exterminated.].

I spent the evening at the Pioli, with a surgeon of the american army lately from the scene of action; he gave me a disgusting account of the misunderstanding that subsists between the american citizens on the frontiers, and their neighbours in Upper Canada. It seems the Canadians are accused of assisting the indians in the decisive action against St. Clare.

As many of the descendants of the original french settlers have indian blood in their veins, the charge is not improbable, as far as relates to a few _individuals_, but that they received either the connivance, or protection of _government_, (as the Americans assert) is totally without foundation.

I never take up a western newspaper that does not teem with the most illiberal abuse of the british government. It would therefore be impossible to exonorate certain american citizens from _their share of provocation_, and a wish to blow up the hardly-extinguished embers of the late war. This temper is kept alive by french agents, who use every means of inflaming the public mind, by the most flagrant exaggerations of the late captures, &c.: and so successful have they been in their misrepresentations, that a war with England would at this time be very popular.

_Aug. 30th_.--You can conceive nothing more beautifully romantic, than the appearance of the country during the latter part of this day's journey. The hills, bold, rounding, and lofty, are covered with wood to their very summit. In the midst of this wild scenery is the mighty _Susquana_, above a mile wide, dashing over rocks and precipices, seventy or eighty miles distant from the flow of the tide. A similar body of running water, perfectly clear and transparent, with so many hundred cascades as beautify the Susquana, is perhaps no where else to be met with. Unfortunately these very beauties render the navigation of this noble river impracticable.

_Aug. 31st_.--Arrived at Lancaster, a prettily situate town, of about nine hundred houses. It is reckoned the largest inland town south of New England, and indeed the only large town without some kind of navigation; to remedy this inconvenience as much as possible, a turnpike road (very superiour to any thing of the kind in America, and which will cost three thousand dollars per mile,) is forming from Philadelphia, through Lancaster, to the Susquana. I before told you this river, owing to the rocks and falls, was not navigable; but I forgot to inform you, that the inhabitants of the back country contrive to waft the produce of their plantations down the river on floats, during the floods, in spring and fall; which will be conveyed by means of this new road to Philadelphia, whence it will be exported to the west indian or european markets.

The only manufactory in Lancaster is one of rifles; they have contracted to supply the continental army with these _"mortal engines."_

I have heard a hundred improbable stories relative to what was done with the rifle by famous marksmen in America, such as shooting an apple from a child's head, &c; to which I could not give credit: but, I have no reason to doubt the following feat: as it was actually performed before many hundred inhabitants of this borough, and the adjacent country.--During the late war, in the year 1775, a company of riflemen, formed from the back woodsmen of Virginia, were quartered here for some time: two of them _alternately_ held a board only nine inches square between his knees, while his comrade fired a ball through it from a distance of one hundred paces! The board is still preserved; and I am assured by several who were present, that it was performed without any manner of deception.

Lancaster was originally a german settlement; the inhabitants were so desirous of perpetuating their language, that they established german schools for the education of the rising generation; but their descendants, finding the inconvenience of being without a knowledge of English, now send their children first to the german, and afterward to the english schools; by which means they acquire a tolerable idea of both languages. They still retain many characteristics of their ancestors; such as frugality, plainness in dress, &c. At our first concert, three clownish-looking fellows came into the room, and, after sitting a few minutes, (the weather being _warm_, not to say _hot_) very composedly took off their coats: they were in the usual summer dress of farmers servants in this part of the country; that is to say, _without_ either stockings or breeches, a loose pair of trowsers being the only succedaneum. As we fixed our admission at a dollar each, (here seven shillings and sixpence,) we expected this circumstance would be sufficient to exclude _such_ characters; but on inquiry, I found (to my very great surprise!) our three _sans culottes_ were german _gentlemen_ of considerable property in the neighbourhood!

They manage these matters better at Hanover; (a settlement of germans about forty miles hence.) One of the articles of their dancing assembly is in these words; "No gentleman to enter the ball-room without _breeches_, or to be allowed to dance without his _coat_."

All the back parts of Pennsylvania were in general cleared, and settled by german, and irish emigrants; but the former are commonly more prosperous than their neighbours, whom they excel in sobriety and economy, and have also a much better understanding amongst themselves.