Chapter X: Part 10

BATH is a post town, and the principal town in the western parts of the state of New York. Though laid out only three years ago, yet it already contains about thirty houses, and is increasing very fast. Amongst the houses are several stores or shops well furnished with goods, and a tavern that would not be thought meanly of in any part of America. This town was founded by a gentleman who formerly bore the rank of captain in his Majesty’s service; he has likewise been the founder of Williamsburgh and Falkner’s Town; and indeed to his exertions, joined to those of a few other individuals, may be ascribed the improvement of the whole of this part of the country, best known in America by the name of the Genesee Country, or the County of the Lakes, from its being watered by that river, and a great number of small lakes.

[Sidenote: LAND SPECULATION.]

The landed property of which this gentleman, who founded Bath, &c. has had the active management, is said to have amounted originally to no less than six millions of acres, the greater part of which belonged to an individual in England. The method he has taken to improve this property has been, by granting land in small portions and on long credits to individuals who would immediately improve it, and in larger portions and on a shorter credit to others who purchased on speculation, the lands in both cases being mortgaged for the payment of the purchase money; thus, should the money not be paid at the appointed time, he could not be a loser, as the lands were to be returned to him, and should they happen to be at all improved, as was most likely to be the case, he would be a considerable gainer even by having them returned on his hands; moreover, if a poor man, willing to settle on his land, had not money sufficient to build a house and to go on with the necessary improvements, he has at once supplied him, having had a large capital himself, with what money he wanted for that purpose, or sent his own workmen, of whom he keeps a prodigious number employed, to build a house for him, at the same time taking the man’s note at three, four, or five years, for the cost of the house, &c. with interest. If the man should be unable to pay at the appointed time, the house, mortgaged like the lands, must revert to the original proprietor, and the money arising from its sale, and that of the farm adjoining, partly improved, will in all probability be found to amount to more than what the poor man had promised to pay for it: but a man taking up land in America in this manner, at a moderate price, cannot fail, if industrious, of making money sufficient to pay for it, as well as for a house, at the appointed time.

The numbers that have been induced by these temptations, not to be met with elsewhere in the States, to settle in the Genesee County, is astonishing; and numbers are still flocking to it every year, as not one third of the lands are yet disposed of. It was currently reported in the county, as I passed through it, that this gentleman, of whom I have been speaking, had, in the notes of the people to whom he had sold land payable at the end of three, or four, or five years, the immense sum of two millions of dollars. The original cost of the land was not more than a few pence per acre; what therefore must be the profits!

It may readily be imagined, that the granting of land on such very easy terms could not fail to draw crowds of speculators (a sort of gentry with which America abounds in every quarter) to this part of the country; and indeed we found, as we passed along, that every little town and village throughout the country abounded with them, and each place, in consequence, exhibited a picture of idleness and dissipation. The following letter, supposed to come from a farmer, though somewhat ludicrous, does not give an inaccurate description of one of these young speculators, and of what is going on in this neighbourhood. It appeared in a news-paper published at Wilkes-barré, on the Susquehannah, and I give it to you verbatim, because, being written by an American, it will perhaps carry more weight with it than any thing I could say on the same subject.

[Sidenote: METHOD OF IMPROVING PROPERTY.]

“To the Printers of the Wilkes-barré Gazette.

“Gentlemen,

“It is painful to reflect, that speculation has raged to such a
degree of late, that honest industry, and all the humble virtues
that walk in her train, are discouraged and rendered
unfashionable.

“It is to be lamented too, that dissipation is sooner introduced
in new settlements than industry and economy.

“I have been led to these reflections by conversing with my son,
who has just returned from the Lakes or Genesee, though he has
neither been to the one or the other;—in short, he has been to
Bath, the celebrated Bath, and has returned both a speculator
and a gentleman; having spent his money, swopped away my horse,
caught the fever and ague, and, what is infinitely worse, that
horrid disorder which some call the terra-phobia[18].”

Footnote 18:

Our farmer does not seem to have well understood the import of
this word, but we may readily guess at his meaning.

“We can hear nothing from the poor creature now (in his ravings)
but of the captain and Billy—of ranges—townships—
numbers—thousands—hundreds—acres—Bath—
fairs—races—heats—bets—purses—silk
stockings—fortunes—fevers—agues, &c. &c. &c. My son has part of
a township for sale, and it is diverting enough to hear him
narrate its pedigree, qualities, and situation. In fine, it lies
near Bath, and the captain himself once owned, and for a long
time reserved it. It cost my son but five dollars per acre; he
was offered six in half a minute after his purchase; but he is
positively determined to have eight, besides some precious
reserves. One thing is very much in my boy’s favour—he has six
years credit. Another thing is still more so—he is not worth a
sous, nor ever will be at this rate. Previous to his late
excursion the lad worked well, and was contented at home on my
farm; but now work is out of the question with him. There is no
managing my boy at home; these golden dreams still beckon him
back to Bath, where, as he says, no one need either work or
starve; where, though a man may have the ague nine months in the
year, he may console himself in spending the other three
fashionably at the races.

“_A Farmer._”

“_Hanover, October 25th, 1796._”

The town of Bath stands on a plain, surrounded on three sides by hills of a moderate height. The plain is almost wholly divested of its trees; but the hills are still uncleared, and have a very pleasing appearance from the town. At the foot of the hills runs a stream of pure water, over a bed of gravel, which is called Conhocton Creek. There is a very considerable fall in this creek just above the town, which affords one of the finest seats for mills possible. Extensive saw and flour mills have already been erected upon it, the principal saw in the former of which gave, when we visited the mill, one hundred and twenty strokes in a minute, sufficient to cut, in the same space of time, seven square feet, superficial measure, of oak timber; yet the miller informed us, that when the water was high it would cut much faster.

[Sidenote: CONHOCTON CREEK.]

Conhocton Creek, about twenty miles below Bath, falls into Tyoga River, which, after a course of about thirty miles, empties itself into the eastern branch of the River Susquehannah. During floods you may go down in light bateaux along the creek, Tyoga and Susquehannah rivers, the whole way from Bath to the Chesapeak Bay, without interruption; and in the fall of the year there is generally water sufficient for canoes from Bath downwards; but owing to the great drought that prevailed through every part of the country this year, the depth of water in the creek was found insufficient to float even a canoe of the smallest size. Had it been practicable, it was our intention to have proceeded from Bath by water; but finding that it was not, we once more set off on foot, and pursued our way along the banks of the river till we came to a small village of eight or ten houses, called Newtown, about thirty miles distant from Bath. Here we found the stream tolerably deep, and the people informed us, that excepting at one or two narrow shoals, they were certain that in every part of it, lower down, there was sufficient water for canoes; accordingly, determined to be our own watermen, being five in number including our servants, we purchased a couple of canoes from two farmers, who lived on the banks of the river, and having lashed them together, in order to render them more steady and safe, we put our baggage on board, and boldly embarked.

[Sidenote: CANOES STRANDED.]

It was about three o’clock on a remarkably clear though cold afternoon that we left the village, and the current being strong, we hoped to be able to reach before night a tavern, situated, as we were told, on the banks of the river, about six miles below Newtown. For the first two miles we got on extremely well; but beyond this the river proving to be much shallower than we had been led to believe, we found it a matter of the utmost difficulty to proceed. Our canoes repeatedly struck upon the shoals, and so much time was consumed in setting them again free, that before we had accomplished more than two thirds of our voyage the day closed. As night advanced a very sensible change was observable in the weather; a heavy shower of hail came pouring down, and, involved in thick darkness, whilst the moon was obscured by a cloud, our canoes were drifted by the current, to which, being unable to see our way, we had consigned them, on a bank in the middle of the river. In endeavouring to extricate ourselves we unfortunately, owing to the darkness, took a wrong direction, and at the end of a few minutes found our canoes so firmly wedged in the gravel that it was impossible to move them. Nothing now remained to be done but for every one of us to jump into the water, and to put his shoulder to the canoes. This we accordingly did, and having previously unlashed, in order to render them more manageable, we in a short time contrived to haul one of them into deep water; here, however, the rapidity of the current was so great, that notwithstanding all our endeavours to the contrary, the canoe was forcibly swept away from us, and in the attempt to hold it fast we had the misfortune to see it nearly filled with water.

Deprived thus of one of our canoes, and of a great part of our baggage in it, which, for ought we knew, was irrecoverably lost, we determined to proceed more cautiously with the remaining one; having returned, therefore, to the bank, we carried every thing that was in the canoe on our shoulders to the shore, which was about forty yards distant; no very easy or agreeable task, as the water reached up to our waists, and the current was so strong that it was with the utmost difficulty we could keep our feet. The canoe being emptied, we brought it, as nearly as we could guess, to the spot where the other one had been swept away from us, and one of the party then getting into it with a paddle, we committed it, pursuant to his desire, to the stream, hoping that it would be carried down after the other, and that thus we should be able to recover both it and the things which it contained. In a few seconds the stream carried the canoe out of our sight, for the moon shone but faintly through the clouds, and being all of us totally unacquainted with the river, we could not but feel some concern for the personal safety of our companion. Before many minutes, however, were elapsed, we had the satisfaction of hearing his voice at a distance, and having made the best of our way along the shore to the spot from whence the sound proceeded, we had the satisfaction to find that he had been carried in safety close beside the canoe which had been lost, we were not a little pleased also at finding our portmanteaus at the bottom of the canoe, though well soaked in water; but such of our clothes as we had taken off preparatory to going into the water, together with several light articles, were all lost.

[Sidenote: SCARCITY OF PROVISIONS.]

It froze so very hard now, that in a few minutes our portmanteaus, and such of our garments as had been wetted, were covered with a coat of ice, and our limbs were quite benumbed, in consequence of our having waded so often through the river. Desirous, however, as we were to get to a house, we determined, in the first instance, to dispose of our baggage in a safe place, lest it might be pillaged. A deep hollow that appeared under some fallen trees seemed well adapted for the purpose, and having stowed it there, and covered it with leaves, we advanced forward. There were no traces whatsoever of a path in the woods where we landed, and for upwards of a mile we had to force our way through the bushes along the banks of the river; but at the end of that distance, we hit upon one, which in a short time brought us to a miserable little log house. At this house no accommodation whatsoever was to be had, but we were told, that if we followed the path through the woods for about a mile farther, we should come to a waggon road, upon which we should find another house, where probably we might gain admittance. We reached this house according to the directions we had received; we readily gained admittance into it, and the blaze of an immense wood fire, piled half way up the chimney, soon made us amends for what we had suffered from the inclemency of the weather. The coldness of the air, together with the fatigue which we had gone through in the course of the day, had by this time given a keen edge to our appetites; no sooner therefore had we warmed ourselves than we began to make enquiries about what we could get to satisfy the calls of hunger; but had we asked for a sheep or an ox for supper at an inn in England, the man of the house could not, I verily believe, have been more amazed than was our American landlord at these enquiries: “The women were in bed”—“He knew not where to find the keys”—“He did not believe there was any thing in the pantry”—“Provisions were very scarce in the country”—“If he gave us any there would not be enough for the family in the morning”—Such were his answers to us. However we plied him so closely, and gave him such a pitiable description of our sufferings, that at length he was moved; the keys were found, the pantry opened, and to satisfy the hunger of five hungry young men, two little flour cakes, scarcely as big as a man’s hand each, and about a pint and a half of milk, were brought forth. He vowed he could give us nothing more; his wife would never pardon him if he did not leave enough for their breakfasts in the morning; obliged therefore to remain satisfied, we eat our little pittance, and then laid ourselves down to rest on our skins, which we had brought with us on our shoulders.

[Sidenote: SCARCITY OF PROVISIONS.]

In the morning we found that the man had really made an accurate report of the state of his pantry. There was barely enough in it for the family, and unable to get a single morsel to eat, we set out for the little house where we had first stopped the preceding night, which was the only one within two or three miles, there hoping to find the inhabitants better provided for: not a bit of bread however was to be had here; but the woman of the house told us, that she had some Indian corn meal, and that if we could wait for an hour or two she would bake a loaf for us. This was most grateful intelligence: we only begged of her to make it large enough, and then set off to search in the interim for our canoes and baggage. At several other places, in going down the Susquehannah, we afterwards found an equal scarcity of provisions with what we did in this neighbourhood. One morning in particular, after having proceeded for about four or five miles in our canoe, we stopped to breakfast; but nothing eatable was there to be had at the first house we went to, except a few potatoes that were roasting before the fire. The people very cheerfully gave us two or three, and told us at the same time, that if we went to some houses at the opposite side of the river we should most probably find better fare: we did so; but here the inhabitants were still more destitute. On asking them where we should be likely to get any thing to eat, an old woman answered, that if we went to a village about four miles lower down the river, we should find a house, she believed, where “_they did keep victuals_,” an expression so remarkable that I could not help noting it down immediately. We reached this house, and finding it well stocked with provisions of every kind, took care to provide ourselves, not only with what we wanted for immediate use, but also with what we might want on a future occasion, in case we came to any place equally destitute of provisions as those which we had before stopped at; a precaution that was far from proving unnecessary.

But to return. We found our canoes and baggage just as we had left them, and having embarked once more, we made the best of our way down to the house where we had bespoke breakfast, which stood on the banks of the river. The people here were extremely civil; they assisted us in making fresh paddles in lieu of those which we had lost the night before; and for the trifle which we gave them above what they asked us for our breakfasts they were very thankful, a most unusual circumstance in the United States.

[Sidenote: SUSQUEHANNAH.]

After breakfast we pursued our way for about seven miles down the river, but in the course of this distance we were obliged to get into the water more than a dozen different times, I believe, to drag the canoes over the shoals; in short, by the time we arrived at a house in the afternoon, we were so completely disgusted with our water conveyance, that had we not been able to procure two men, as we did in the neighbourhood, to conduct our canoes to the mouth of Tyoga River, where there was reason to imagine that the water would be found deeper, we should certainly have left them behind us. The men set out at an early hour in the morning, and we proceeded some time afterwards on foot along the banks, but so difficult was the navigation, that we reached Tyoga Point or Lochartzburg, a small town built at the mouth of the river, several hours before them.

On arriving at this place, we heard to our disappointment, that the Susquehannah, although generally at this season of the year navigable for boats drawing four feet water, was now nearly as low as the Tyoga River, so that in many places, particularly at the rapids, there was scarcely sufficient water to float a canoe over the sharp rocks with which the bed of the river abounds; in fine, we were informed that the channel was now intricate and dangerous, and that no person unacquainted with the river could attempt to proceed down it without great risk; we found no difficulty, however, in hiring from amongst the watermen accustomed to ply on the river, a man that was perfectly well acquainted with it; and having exchanged our two canoes, pursuant to his advice, for one of a very large size, capable of holding us all conveniently, we renewed our voyage.

[Sidenote: SUSQUEHANNAH.]

From Lochartzburgh to Wilkes-barré, or Wyoming, situated on the south-east side of the Susquehannah, the distance is about ninety miles, and when the river is full, and the current of course strong, as is usually the case in the fall and spring of the year, you may go down the whole of this distance in one day; but owing to the lowness of the water we were no less than four days performing the voyage, though we made the utmost expedition possible. In many parts of the river, indeed, we found the current very rapid; at the Falls of Wyalusing, for instance, we were carried down three or four miles in about a quarter of an hour; but in other places, where the river was deep, scarcely any current was perceptible in it, and we were obliged to work our way with paddles. The bed of the river abounds with rock and gravel, and the water is so transparent, that in many parts, where it must have been at least twenty feet deep, the smallest pebble was distinguishable at the bottom. The width of the river varies from fifty to three hundred yards, and scarcely any stream in America has a more irregular course; in some places it runs in a direction diametrically opposite to what it does in others. The country through which this (the eastern) branch of the Susquehannah passes, is extremely uneven and rugged; indeed, from Lochartzburgh till within a short distance of Wilkes-barré, it is bounded the entire way by steep mountains either on the one side or the other. The mountains are never to be met with at both sides of the same part of the river, except it be at places where the river takes a very sudden bend; but wherever you perceive a range of mountains on one side, you are sure to find an extensive plain on the opposite one; scarcely in any part do the mountains extend for more than one mile together on the same side of the river, and in many instances, during the course of one mile, you will perceive more than a dozen different changes of the mountains from one side to the other. It may readily be imagined, from this description of the eastern branch of the Susquehannah, that the scenery along it must be very fine; and, indeed, I think there is no river in America that abounds with such a variety and number of picturesque views. At every bend the prospect varies, and there is scarcely a spot between Lochartzburg and Wilkes-barré where the painter would not find a subject well worthy of his pencil. The mountains, covered with bold rocks and woods, afford the finest foreground imaginable; the plains, adorned with cultivated fields and patches of wood, and watered by the noble river, of which you catch a glimpse here and there, fill up the middle part of the landscape; and the blue hills, peeping up at a distance, terminate the view in the most pleasing manner.

The country bordering upon the Susquehannah abounds with deer, and as we passed down we met with numberless parties of the country people engaged in driving these animals. The deer, on being pursued in the neighbouring country, immediately make for the river, where men being concealed in bushes placed on the strand, at the part to which it is expected they will come down, take the opportunity of shooting them as soon as they enter the water. Should the deer not happen to come near these ambushes, the hunters then follow them in canoes: it seldom happens that they escape after having once taken to the water.

Very fine fish are found in every part of the Susquehannah, and the river is much frequented by wild fowl, particularly by the canvass back duck.

The whole way between Lochartzburg and Wilkes-barré are settlements on each side of the river, at no great distance from each other; there are also several small towns on the banks of the river. The principal one is French Town, situated within a short distance of the Falls of Wyalusing, on the western side of the river. This town was laid out at the expence of several philanthropic persons in Pennsylvania, who entered into a subscription for the purpose, as a place of retreat for the unfortunate French emigrants who fled to America. The town contains about fifty log houses; and for the use of the inhabitants a considerable track of land has been purchased adjoining to it, which has been divided into farms. The French settled here seem, however, to have no great inclination or ability to cultivate the earth, and the greater part of them have let their lands at a small yearly rent to Americans, and amuse themselves with driving deer, fishing, and fowling; they live entirely to themselves; they hate the Americans, and the Americans in the neighbourhood hate, and accuse them of being an idle dissipated set. The manners of the two people are so very different that it is impossible they should ever agree.

[Sidenote: WILKES-BARRÉ]

Wilkes-barré, formerly Wyoming, is the chief town of Luzerne county. It is situated on a plain, bounded on one side by the Susquehannah, and on the other by a range of mountains, and contains about one hundred and fifty wooden dwelling houses, a church, court house, and gaol. It was here that the dreadful massacre was committed, during the American war, by the Indians under the command of colonel Butler, which is recorded in most of the histories of the war, and which will for ever remain a blot on the English annals. Several of the houses in which the unfortunate victims retired to defend themselves, on being refused all quarter, are still standing, perforated in every part with balls; the remains of others that were set on fire are also still to be seen, and the inhabitants will on no account suffer them to be repaired. The Americans are equally tenacious of the ruins in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia.

It was our intention at first to have proceeded down the river from hence as far as Sunburg, or Harrisburgh; but the weather being now so cold as to render a water conveyance, especially a canoe, where you are always obliged to sit very still, extremely disagreeable, we determined to cross the Blue Mountains to Bethlehem in Pennsylvania, situated about sixty-five miles to the south-east of Wilkes-barré; we accordingly hired horses, as we had done on a former occasion, to carry our baggage, and proceeded ourselves on foot. We set out in the afternoon, the day after that on which we terminated our voyage, and before evening crossed the ridge of mountains which bounds the plain of Wilkes-barré. These mountains, which are extremely rugged and stony, abound with iron ore and coal; for the manufacture of the former several forges have been established, but no use is made of the coal, there being plenty of wood as yet in the country, which is esteemed much more agreeable fuel. From the top of them you have a very grand view of the plain below, on which stands the town of Wilkes-barré, and of the river Susquehannah, which may be traced above the town, winding amidst the hills for a great number of miles.

[Sidenote: WOODS.]

The country beyond the mountains is extremely rough, and but very thinly settled, of course still much wooded. The people, at the few houses scattered through it, appeared to live much better than the inhabitants of any other part of the States which I before passed through. At every house where we stopped we found abundance of good bread, butter, tea, coffee, chocolate, and venison; and indeed we fared sumptuously here, in comparison to what we had done for many weeks preceding.

The woods in many parts of this country consisted almost wholly of hemlock trees, which are of the pine species, and grow only on poor ground. Many of them were of an unusually large size, and their tops so closely matted together, that after having entered into the depth of the woods you could see the sky in but very few places. The brush wood under these trees, different from what I ever saw elsewhere, consisted for the most part of the oleander and of the kalmia laurel, whose deep green served to render the gloom of the woods still more solemn; indeed they seemed completely to answer the description given by the poets of the sacred groves; and it were impossible to enter them without being struck with awe.

About twenty miles before you come to Bethlehem, in going thither from Wilkes-barré, you cross the ridge of Blue Mountains at what is called the Wind-Gap; how it received that name I never could learn. This gap is nearly a mile wide, and it exhibits a tremendously wild and rugged scene. The road does not run at the bottom of the gap, but along the edge of the south mountain, about two thirds of the way up. Above you on the right, nothing is to be seen but broken rocks and trees, and on the left you look down a steep precipice. The rocks at the bottom of the precipice have every appearance, it is said (for we did not descend into it) of having been washed by water for ages; and from hence it has been conjectured that this must have been the original channel of the River Delaware, which now passes through the ridge, at a place about fifteen miles to the north-west. Whether this were the case or not it is impossible to determine at this day; but it is certain, from the appearance of the country on each side of the Delaware, that a great change has taken place in this quarter, in consequence of some vast inundation.

VIEW _of_ BETHLEHEM _a Moravian settlement_.
_I. Weld del. J. Dadley sculp^t._
_Published Dec. 12 1798, by I. Stockdale, Picadilly._
]

On the Atlantic side of the mountains the country is much less rugged than on the opposite one, and it is more cleared and much more thickly settled: the inhabitants are for the most part of German extraction.

[Sidenote: BETHLEHEM.]

Bethlehem is the principal settlement, in North America, of the Moravians, or United Brethren. It is most agreeably situated on a rising ground, bounded on one side by the river Leheigh, which falls into the Delaware, and on the other by a creek, which has a very rapid current, and affords excellent seats for a great number of mills. The town is regularly laid out, and contains about eighty strong built stone dwelling houses and a large church. Three of the dwelling houses are very spacious buildings, and are appropriated respectively to the accommodation of the unmarried young men of the society, of the unmarried females, and of the widows. In these houses different manufactures are carried on, and the inmates of each are subject to a discipline approaching somewhat to that of a monastic institution. They eat together in a refectory; they sleep in dormitories; they attend morning and evening prayers in the chapel of the house; they work for a certain number of hours in the day; and they have stated intervals allotted to them for recreation. They are not subjected, by the rules of the society, to perpetual confinement; but they seldom, notwithstanding, go beyond the bounds of their walks and gardens, except it be occasionally to visit their friends in the town.

[Sidenote: MORAVIANS.]

The Moravians, though they do not enjoin celibacy, yet think it highly meritorious, and the young persons of different sexes have but very little intercourse with each other; they never enter each other’s houses, and at church they are obliged to sit separate; it is only in consequence of his having seen her at a distance, perhaps, that a batchelor is induced to propose for a young woman in marriage, and he is not permitted to offer his proposals in person to the object of his choice, but merely through the medium of the superintendant of the female house. If from the report of the elders and wardens of the society it appears to the superintendant that he is able to maintain a wife, she then acquaints her protegée with the offer, and should she consent, they are married immediately, but if she do not, the superintendant selects another female from the house, whom she imagines would be suitable to the young man, and on his approval of her they are as quickly married. Hasty as these marriages are, they are never known to be attended with unhappiness; for being taught from their earliest infancy to keep those passions under controul, which occasion so much mischief amongst the mass of mankind; being inured to regular habits of industry, and to a quiet sober life; and being in their peaceable and retired settlements out of the reach of those temptations which persons are exposed to who launch forth into the busy world, and who mingle with the multitude, the parties meet with nought through life to interrupt their domestic repose.

Attached to the young men’s and to the young women’s houses there are boarding schools for boys and girls, under the direction of proper teachers, which are also inspected by the elders and wardens of the society. These schools are in great repute, and not only the children of Moravians are sent to them, but also those of many genteel persons of a different persuasion, resident in Philadelphia, New York, and other towns in the neighbouring States. The boys are instructed in the Latin, German, French, and English languages; arithmetic, music, drawing, &c.: the girls are likewise instructed in these different languages and sciences, and, in short, in every thing that is usually taught at a female boarding school, except dancing. When of a sufficient age to provide for themselves, the young women of the society are admitted into the house destined for their accommodation, where embroidery, fine needle-work, carding, spinning, knitting, &c. &c. and other works suitable to females, are carried on. A separate room is allotted for every different business, and a female, somewhat older than the rest, presides in it, to inspect the work, and preserve regularity. Persons are appointed to dispose of the several articles manufactured in the house, and the money which they produce is distributed amongst the individuals engaged in manufacturing them, who, after paying a certain sum towards the maintenance of the house, and a certain sum besides into the public fund of the society, are allowed to keep the remainder for themselves.

After the boys have finished their school education, they are apprenticed to the business which accords most with their inclination. Should this be a business or trade that is carried on in the young men’s house, they at once go there to learn it, but if at the house of an individual in the town, they only board and lodge at the young men’s house. If they are inclined to agricultural pursuits, they are then put under the care of one of the farmers of the society. The young men subscribe to the support of their house, and to the public fund, just as the young women do; the widows do the same; and every individual in the town likewise contributes a small sum weekly to the general fund of the society.

[Sidenote: MORAVIANS.]

Situated upon the creek, which skirts the town, there is a flour mill, a saw mill, an oil mill, a fulling mill, a mill for grinding bark and dye stuff, a tan yard, a currier’s yard; and on the Leheigh River an extensive brewery, at which very good malt liquor is manufactured. These mills, &c. belong to the society at large, and the profits arising from them, the persons severally employed in conducting them being first handsomely rewarded for their services, are paid into the public fund. The lands for some miles round the town, which are highly improved, likewise belong to the society, as does also the tavern, and the profits arising from them are disposed of in the same manner as those arising from the mills, the persons employed in managing the farms, and attending to the tavern, being nothing more than stewards or agents of the society. The fund thus raised is employed in relieving the distressed brethren of the society in other parts of the world, in forming new settlements, and in defraying the expence of the missions for the purpose of propagating the gospel amongst the heathens.

The tavern at Bethlehem is very commodious, and it is the neatest and best conducted one, without exception, that I ever met with in any part of America. Having communicated to the landlord, on arriving at it, our wish to see the town and public buildings, he immediately dispatched a messenger for one of the elders, and in less than a quarter of an hour, brother Thomas, a lively fresh coloured little man, of about fifty years of age, entered the room: he was dressed in a plain blue coat and waistcoat, brown corderoy breeches, and a large round hat; there was goodness and innocence in his looks, and his manners were so open and unconstrained, that it was impossible not to become familiar with him at once. When we were ready to sally forth, he placed himself between two of us, and leaning on our arms, and chatting without ceremony, he conducted us first to the young women’s house. Here we were shewn into a neat parlour, whilst brother Thomas went to ask permission for us to see the house. In a few minutes the superintendant herself came; brother Thomas introduced her to us, and accompanied by them both we visited the different apartments.

[Sidenote: MORAVIANS.]

The house is extensive, and the passages and stair-cases are commodious and airy, but the work rooms are small, and to such a pitch were they heated by stoves, that on entering into them at first we could scarcely breathe. The stoves, which they use, are built in the German style. The fire is inclosed in a large box or case formed of glazed tiles, and the warm air is thence conducted, through flues, into similar large cases placed in different parts of the room, by which means every part is rendered equally warm. About a dozen females or more, nearly of the same age, were seated at work in each apartment. The entrance of strangers did not interrupt them in the least; they went on with their work, and except the inspectress, who never failed politely to rise and speak to us, they did not even seem to take any notice of our being in the room.

The dress of the sisterhood, though not quite uniform, is very nearly so. They wear plain calico, linen, or stuff gowns, with aprons, and close tight linen caps, made with a peak in front, and tied under the chin with a piece of riband. Pink ribands are said to be worn as a badge by those who are inclined to marry; however, I observed that all the unmarried women wore them, not excepting those whose age and features seemed to have excluded them from every chance of becoming the votaries of Hymen.

The dormitory of the female house is a very spacious apartment in the upper story, which is aired by a large ventilator in the ceiling. It contains about fifty boarded beds without testers, each calculated to hold one person. They sleep here during winter time in the German style, between two feather beds, to which the sheets and blankets are stitched fast; in summer time the heat is too great here to admit even of a single blanket.

After having gone through the different apartments of the female house, we were conducted by the superintendant into a sort of shop, where different little articles of fancy work, manufactured by the sisterhood, are laid out to the best advantage. It is always expected that strangers visiting the house will lay out some trifling sum here; and this is the only reward which any member of the society expects for the trouble of conducting a stranger throughout every part of the town.

The house of the sisterhood exhibits a picture of the utmost neatness and regularity, as do likewise the young men’s and the widows houses; and indeed the same may be said of every private house throughout the town. The mills, brewery, &c. which are built on the most approved plans, are also kept in the very neatest order.

Brother Thomas, after having shewn us the different public buildings and works, next introduced us into the houses of several of the married men, that were most distinguished for their ingenuity, and in some of them, particularly at the house of a cabinet maker, we were entertained with very curious pieces of workmanship. This cabinet maker brought us a book of Indian ink and tinted drawings, his own performances, which would have been a credit to a person in his situation in any part of the world.

[Sidenote: MORAVIANS.]

The manufactures in general carried on at Bethlehem consist of woollen and linen cloths, hats, cotton and worsted caps and stockings, gloves, shoes, carpenters, cabinet makers, and turners work, clocks, and a few ether articles of hardware, &c. &c.

The church is a plain building of stone, adorned with pictures from sacred history. It is furnished with a tolerable organ, as likewise are the chapels of the young men’s and young women’s houses; they accompany their hymns, besides, with violoncellos, violins, flutes, &c. The whole society attends the church on a Sunday, and when any one of the society dies, all the remaining members attend his funeral, which is conducted with great solemnity, though with little pomp: they never go into mourning for their departed friends.

Every house in the town is supplied with an abundance of excellent water from a spring, which is forced through pipes by means of an hydraulic machine worked by water, and which is situated on the banks of the creek. Some of the houses are supplied with water in every room. The machine is very simple, and would easily raise the water of the spring, if necessary, several hundred feet.

The spring from whence the houses are supplied with water stands nearly in the center of the town, and over it, a large stone house with very thick walls, is erected. Houses like this are very common in America; they are called spring houses and are built for the purpose of preserving meat, milk, butter, &c. during the heats of summer. This spring house in Bethlehem is common to the whole town; a shelf or board in it is allotted to each family, and though there is no watch placed over it, and the door be only secured by a latch, yet every person is certain of finding, when he comes for it, his plate of butter or bowl of milk, &c. exactly in the same state as when he put it in.

[Sidenote: MORAVIANS.]

The Moravians study to render their conduct strictly conformable to the principles of the Christian religion; but very different notions, notwithstanding, are, and, no doubt, will be entertained respecting some of their tenets. Every unprejudiced person, however, that has visited their settlements must acknowledge, that their moral conduct is truly excellent, and is such as would, if generally adopted, make men happy in the extreme. They live together like members of one large family; the most perfect harmony subsists between them, and they seem to have but one with at heart, the propagation of the gospel, and the good of mankind. They are in general of a grave turn of mind; but nothing of that stiffness, or of that affected singularity, or pride, as I will call it, prevalent amongst the Quakers, is observable in their manners. Wherever their society has extended itself in America, the most happy consequences have resulted from it; good order and regularity have become conspicuous in the behaviour of the people of the neighbourhood, and arts and manufactures have been introduced into the country.

As the whole of the plot of ground, on which Bethlehem stands; belongs to the society, as well as the lands for a considerable way round the town, the Moravians here are not liable to be troubled by intruders, but any person that will conform to their line of conduct will be received into their society with readiness and cordiality. They appeared to take the greatest delight in shewing us their town, and every thing belonging to it, and at parting lamented much that we could not stay longer with them, to see still more of the manners and habits of the society.

They do not seem desirous of adding to the number of houses in Bethlehem; but whenever there is an increase of people, they send them off to another part of the country, there to form a new settlement. Since Bethlehem was founded, they have established two other towns in Pennsylvania, Nazareth and Letitz. The former of these stands at the distance of about ten miles from Bethlehem, and in coming down from the Blue Mountains you pass through it; it is about half the size of Bethlehem, and built much on the same plan. Letitz is situated at a distance of about ten miles from Lancaster.

The country for many miles round Bethlehem is most pleasingly diversified with rising grounds; the soil is rich, and better cultivated than any part of America I before saw. Until within a few years past this neighbourhood has been distinguished for the salubrity of its climate, but fevers, chiefly bilious and intermittent, have increased to a very great degree of late, and, indeed, not only here, but in many other parts of Pennsylvania, which have been long settled. During the last autumn, more people suffered from sickness in the well cultivated parts of the country than had ever been remembered. Various reasons have been assigned for this increase of fevers in Pennsylvania, but it appears most probably to be owing to the unequal quantities of rain that have fallen of late years, and to the unprecedented mildness of the winters.

Bethlehem is visited during summer time by great numbers of people from the neighbouring large towns, who are led thither by curiosity or pleasure; and regularly, twice a week throughout the year, a public stage waggon runs between it and Philadelphia. We engaged this carriage to ourselves, and early on the second day from that on which we quitted Bethlehem, reached the capital, after an absence of, somewhat more than, five months.

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_LETTER _ XXXVIII.

_Leave Philadelphia.—Arrive at New York.—Visit Long Island.—Dreadful
havoc by the Yellow Fever.—Dutch Inhabitants suspicious of
Strangers.—Excellent Farmers.—Number of Inhabitants.—Culture of
Corn.—Immense Quantities of Grouse and Deer.—Laws to protect
them.—Increase of the same.—Decrease of Beavers.—New York agreeable to
Strangers.—Conclusion._

MY DEAR SIR, New York, January 1797.

[Sidenote: LEAVE PHILADELPHIA.]

AFTER having remained a few days at Philadelphia, in order to arrange some matters preparatory to my taking a final leave of that city, I set out once more for New York. The month of December had now arrived; considerable quantities of snow had fallen; and the keen winds from the north-west had already spread a thick crust of ice over the Delaware, whose majestic stream is always the last in this part of the country to feel the chilly touch of the hand of winter. The ice however, was not yet strong enough to sustain the weight of a stage carriage, neither was it very readily to be broken; so that when we reached the falls of the river, where it is usual to cross in going from Philadelphia to New York, we had to remain for upwards of two hours, shivering before the bitter blasts, until a passage was opened for the boat, which was to convey us and our vehicle to the opposite side. The crossing of the Delaware at this place with a wheel carriage, even when the river is frozen over and the ice sufficiently thick to bear, is generally a matter of considerable inconvenience and trouble to travellers, owing to the large irregular masses of ice formed there, when the frost first sets in, by the impetuosity of the current, which breaking away the slender flakes of ice from the edges of the banks, gradually drifts them up in layers over each other; it is only at this rugged part, that a wheel carriage can safely pass down the banks of the river.

When the ground is covered with snow, a sleigh or sledge is by far the most commodious sort of carriage to travel in, as neither it nor the passengers it contains are liable to receive any injury whatsoever from an overturn, and as, added to this, you may proceed much faster and easier in it than in a carriage on wheels; having said then that there was snow on the ground, it will perhaps be a subject of wonder to you, that we had not one of these safe and agreeable carriages to take us to New York; if so, I must inform you, that no experienced traveller in the middle states sets out on a long journey in a sleigh at the commencement of winter, as unexpected thaws at this period now take place very commonly, and so rapid are they, that in the course of one morning the snow sometimes entirely disappears; a serious object of consideration in this country, where, if you happen to be left in the lurch with your sleigh, other carriages are not to be had at a moment’s warning. In the present instance, notwithstanding the intense severity of the cold, and the appearances there were of its long continuance, yet I had not been eight and forty hours at New York when every vestige of frost was gone, and the air became as mild as in the month of September.

[Sidenote: LONG ISLAND.]

This sudden change in the weather afforded me an opportunity of seeing, to much greater advantage than might have been expected at this season of the year, parts of New York and Long Islands, which the shortness of my stay in this neighbourhood had not permitted me to visit in the summer. After leaving the immediate vicinage of the city, which stands at the southern extremity of the former of these two islands, but little is to be met with that deserves attention; the soil, indeed, is fertile, and the face of the country is not unpleasingly diversified with rising grounds; but there is nothing grand in any of the views which it affords, nor did I observe one of the numerous seats, with which it is overspread, that was distinguished either for its elegant neatness or the delightfulness of its situation; none of them will bear any comparison with the charming little villas which adorn the banks of the Schuylkill near Philadelphia.

On Long Island much more will be found, in a picturesque point of view, to interest the traveller. On the western side, in particular, bordering upon the Narrows, or that contracted channel between the islands, through which vessels pass in sailing to New York from the Atlantic, the country is really romantic. The ground here is very much broken, and numberless large masses of wood still remain standing, through the vistas in which you occasionally catch the most delightful prospects of the distant hills on Staten Island and the New Jersey shore, and of the water, which is constantly enlivened by vessels sailing to and fro.

[Sidenote: LONG ISLAND.]