Journeying West Before 1840

ca. 1776

From A TOUR IN AMERICA,IN 1798, 1799, AND 1800.

By Richard Parkinson, 1805

pgs 303-310

The amusement of shooting (which is called gunning) will give but little pleasure to an English sportsman, as there is very little of what is termed game to be found in any part of America I visited.

The partridge is a small bird, about the size of the quail in England; and is commonly brought alive to market, as young chickens are in England, which in flavour it resembles more than any other thing. Partridges are chiefly taken by negroes, who have a device for snaring whole coveys together, in a box.

The pheasant is about the size of the English partridge, and tastes more like game than the American partridge. Their woodcocks are smaller than ours; the snipe is nearly the same: and the two last-mentioned kinds afford the only amusement worth noticing as a diversion. It is the custom to shoot at every bird that flies, and eat them all. There is not so great a number of birds in America as in England: a hedgeful of sparrows there would make a most excellent day's sport. There are many woodpeckers of different sorts.

Their doves are about the size of turtle-doves, and are good eating. They are taken, in large quantities, in nets or boxes. The contrivance is, to catch four, put out the eyes of two, and tie them to a stake with a piece of string to the leg: the other two they then also tie by the leg, with a string sufficiently long to allow them to fly to some distance; and when the bird-catcher sees a flight of these doves, as they fly in very great numbers, he lets these two doves fly to meet them, having previously blackened a sufficient space of ground for the execution of their project, by grubbing up the earth, and strewing it with some sort of
food which they like: then the two blind doves are made to keep fluttering so that the large drove can see them. The man, being first secreted in some bushes, draws the two doves down to the black place where the two blind ones are; in consequence of which the whole of the doves light on the part blackened. The man then draws a net over them: and I have been told that in this manner as many as one hundred are taken at a time.

As to hares, they have none. There is a small rabbit, which is sometimes called a hare; it runs into the hollow trees or stumps, and requires rather the axe than the gun to take him. Squirrel-shooting is a favourite diversion: these animals are found in trees, and are sold in the markets to eat, as hares and rabbits are in England. There are many kinds of squirrels (the ground, little grey, great grey, red, black, fox, and flying squirrel) and foxes (the flying fox, black, red, great grey, and little grey fox). Opossums and racoons are another kind of animal, similar in taste to the squirrels.

The Americans shoot and eat most of these animals as game, except the foxes. They are taken by men who hunt all night with dogs and guns. The better sort of people enjoy no other diversion on horse-back than fox-hunting, which by an English sportsman would be deemed very indifferent pastime. The fox which these night-hunters take, and sell for five or six dollars, is put into a bag, and turned off in some open place, which is never half a mile from a wood; therefore there is only wood-hunting: and, although the woods do not abound with under-wood, yet they contain enough of it to prevent the horsemen from galloping. At Baltimore is an English huntsman, who is well acquainted with the management of hounds. Considering, however, the great irregularities of the hunters, in hallooing and cracking their whips, &c. the hounds perform wonders. Apparently the highest enjoyment of the horsemen is liberty and equality in making an extraordinary noise. The foxes do not break away, as with us, but dodge about, somewhat like our hare. Of the red and grey foxes, the only kinds I saw, the red is the best for diversion, and most commonly hunted. They both run very slow, compared with the English fox. The fences, which are usually five or six feet high, are such as are extremely inconvenient to horsemen.

The horses in America generally leap well; they are accustomed to leap from the time of foaling: as it is not at all uncommon, if the mare foal in the night, for some part of the family to ride the mare, with the foal following her, from eighteen to twenty miles the next day, it not being customary to walk much. I think that is the cause of the American horse having a sort of amble: the foal, from its weak state, goes pacing after the dam, and retains that motion all its life. The same is the case with respect to leaping: there being in many
places no gates, the snake or worm-fence (which is one rail laid on the end of another) is taken down to let the mare pass through, and the foal follow; but, as it is usual to leave two or three rails untaken down, which the mare leaps over, the foal, unwilling to be left behind, follows her; so that, by the time it is one week old, it has learned to leap three feet high; and progressively, as it grows older, it leaps higher, till, at a year old, it will leap its own height. There are part of the horses raised by a description of men having only one mare, which the owner or his wife rides to market once or twice a week to sell truck: therefore the foal is a traveller from its first existence.

To return to hunting.--The season for this diversion is short; it being a continued frost from December to April: but the hounds hunt in such weather as would deter an Englishman from even making the attempt. Probably on account of the woods preventing the effects of the frost.

There are deer in the back woods, but none near Baltimore, which they shoot as game; and I have heard the venison praised. I ate of it several times; but it was very indifferent, compared with the venison in England. It was exceedingly poor; and I think no venison good, except it be fat: nor do I believe any other animal in perfection, except it be fat. These wild deer are of various kinds; the moose, elk, round-horned, caribou, red, croft, roe, and fallow. The moose is so scarce and difficult to take, that Mr. Jefferson told me, when he was in France, and desirous of having one, it cost him seventy guineas to procure the skin, stuffed. There are few or no deer in any of the inhabited parts.

Venison is brought to market in waggons, and sold at the price of beef: it is shocking stuff. It is commonly salted, smoked, and served up raw at breakfast. When dressed in the fresh state, it is usual to cut it into a saddle, by chopping the shanks off about the pope's eye, and just warm it at the fire: every gentleman has a
chafing-dish, and may truly be said to be his own cook; for, what with the wood-embers and the stew of the venison, the room is like the kitchen of Dolly's chop-house in London. About eight gentlemen will eat all the flesh off the hind-quarters, and nearly pick the bones. The season when the venison comes to market is from September to March; sometimes with the skin on, sometimes without it.

There is a bird they call a robin, something like our fieldfare, which they shoot. There is another bird, named a whip-poor-Will, which makes such a noise that it is impossible to sleep after three o'clock in the summer's morning; for it comes near to the houses, perhaps in search of food.

In regard to the amusement of fishing, there are very few waters where the angler can make use of the hook and line; the rivers being more like seas, and generally shallow for some distance from the banks, which renders a boat necessary.

This is taken from Travels in the Interior of Americ in the Years 1809, 1810, and 1811 by John Bradbury

In the evening of the 14th, we arrived at New Madrid, and having occasion for some necessaries, I bought them in the morning. I was much disappointed in this place, as I found only a few straggling houses, situated round a plain of from two to three hundred acres in extent. There are only two stores, which are very indifferently furnished. We set off about nine o'clock, and passed the Upper Chickasaw Bluffs; these bluffs are of soft sand-stone rock, of a yellow colour, but some parts being highly charged with oxyd of iron, the whole has a clouded appearance, and is considered as a curiosity by the boatmen. At the lower end of the bluffs we saw a smoke, and on a nearer approach, observed five or six Indians, and on the opposite side of the river, but lower down, we heard a dog howling. When the Indians perceived us, they held up some venison, to show us that they wished to dispose of it. Being desirous of adding to our stock of fresh meat, I hastily got into the canoe, and took with me one of the men, named La France, who spoke the Chickasaw language, as I supposed the Indians to be of that nation. We very imprudently went without arms an omission that gave me some uneasiness before we reached them; especially as the boat, by my direction, proceeded leisurely on.

We found that the Indians had plenty of deer's flesh, and some turkies. I began to bargain for them, when the people in the boat fired a shot, and the dog on the other side of the river instantly ceased howling. The Indians immediately flew to their arms, speaking all together, with much earnestness. La France appeared much terrified, and told me that they said our people in the boat had shot their dog. I desired him to tell them that we did not believe that our people had done so, but if they had, I would pay them any price for him. They seemed too much infuriated to hearken to him, and surrounded us with their weapons in their hands. They were very clamorous amongst themselves, and, as I was afterwards told by La France, could not agree whether they should immediately put us to death, or keep us prisoners until we could procure goods from the boat to pay for the dog, on which it appeared they set high value. Most fortunately for us, the dog, at this instant began to bark opposite to us, having run a considerable distance up the river after the shot was fired.

The tomahawks were immediately laid aside, and I bargained for half a deer, for which I gave them a quarter dollar and some gunpowder. I was not very exact in measuring the last, being rather anxious to get away, and could perceive that La France had no desire to stay any longer.

On reaching our canoe we seized our paddles, and being told by La France that we were not yet out of danger, we made every exertion to get out of their reach. When we conceived ourselves safe, we relaxed, and he told me that even when we were leaving them, they were deliberating whether they should detain us or not; some of them having remarked that the dog might be wounded. We had been so long delayed by this adventure, that it was more than an hour before we overtook the boat. I blamed the boatmen much for firing, and charged them with having fired at the dog: this, however, appeared not to have been the case, as they fired at a loon, (mergus merganser.) In the course of this day, we passed no fewer than thirteen arks, or Kentucky boats, going with produce to Orleans; all these we left a considerable distance behind, as they only float with the stream, and we made considerable head-way with our oars. In the evening we came in view of the dangerous part of the river, called by the Americans the Devil's Channel, and by the French Chenal du Diable. It appears to be caused by a bank that crosses the river in this place, which renders it shallow. On this bank, a great number of trees have lodged; and, on account of the shallowness of the river, a considerable portion of the branches are raised above the surface; through these the water rushes with such impetuosity as to be heard at the distance of some miles.

As it would require every effort of skill and exertion to pass through this channel in safety, and as the sun had set, I resolved to wait until the morning, and caused the boat to be moored to a small island, about five hundred yards above the entrance into the channel. After supper we went to sleep as usual; and in the night, about ten o'clock, I was awakened by a most tremendous noise, accompanied by so violent an agitation of the boat that it appeared in danger of upsetting. Before I could quit the bed, or rather the skin, upon which I lay, the four men who slept in the other cabin rushed in, and cried out in the greatest terror, "0 mon Dieu! Monsieur Bradbury, qu'est ce qu'il y a?" I passed them with some difficulty, and ran to the door of the cabin, where I could distinctly see the river agitated as if by a storm; and although the noise was inconceivably loud and terrific, I could distinctly hear the crash of falling trees, and the screaming of the wild fowl on the river, but found that the boat was still safe at her moorings. I was followed by the men and the patron, who, in accents of terror, were still enquiring what it was: I tried to calm them by saying, " Restez vous tranquil, c'est un tremblement de terre," which term they did not seem to understand.

By the time we could get to our fire, which was on a large flag, in the stern of the boat, the shock had ceased; but immediately the perpendicular banks, both above and below us, began to fall into the river in such vast masses, as nearly to sink our boat by the swell they occasioned; and our patron, who seemed more terrified even than the men, began to cry out, " 0 mon Dieu! nous perirons! " I wished to consult with him as to what we could do to preserve ourselves and the boat, but could get no answer except "0 mon Dieu! nous perirons !" and "Allons à terre! Allons à terre!" As I found Mr. Bridge the only one who seemed to retain any presence of mind, we consulted together, and agreed to send two of the men with a candle up the bank, in order to examine if it had separated from the island, a circumstance that we suspected, from hearing the snapping of the limbs of some drift trees, which were deposited between the margin of the river and the summit of the bank. The men, on arriving at the edge of the river, cried out, "Venez à terre! Venez à terre!" and told us there was a fire, and desired Mr. Bridge and the patron to follow them; and as it now occurred to me that the preservation of the boat in a great measure depended on the depth of the river, I tried with a sounding pole, and to my great joy, found it did not exceed eight or ten feet.

Immediately after the shock we observed the time, and found it was near two o'clock. At about nearly half-past two, I resolved to go ashore myself, but whilst I was securing some papers and money, by taking them out of my trunks, another shock came on, terrible indeed, but not equal to the first. Morin, our patron, called out from the island, "Monsieur Bradbury! sauvez vous, sauvez vous! " I went ashore, and found the chasm really frightful, being not less than four feet in width, and the bank had sunk at least two feet. I took the candle to examine its length, and concluded that it could not be less than eighty yards; and at each end, the banks had fallen into the river. I now saw clearly that our lives had been saved by our boat being moored to a sloping bank. Before we completed our fire, we had two more shocks, and others occurred during the whole night, at intervals of from six to ten minutes, but they were slight in comparison with the first and second. At four o'clock I took a candle, and again examined the bank, and perceived to my great satisfaction that no material alteration had taken place; I also found the boat safe, and secured my pocket compass. I had already noticed that the sound which was heard at the time of every shock, always preceded it at least a second, and that it uniformly came from the same point, and went off in an opposite direction. I now found that the shock came from a little northward of east, and proceeded to the westward. At day-light we had counted twenty-seven shocks during our stay on the island, but still found the chasm so that it might be passed. The river was covered with foam and drift timber, and had risen considerably, but our boat was safe. Whilst we were waiting till the light became sufficient for us to embark, two canoes floated down the river, in one of which we saw some Indian corn and some clothes. We considered this as a melancholy proof that some of the boats we passed the preceding day had perished. Our conjectures were afterwards confirmed, as we learned that three had been overwhelmed, and that all on board had perished. When the daylight appeared to be sufficient for us, I gave orders to embark, and we all went on board. Two men were in the act of loosening the fastenings, when a shock occurred nearly equal to the first in violence. The men ran up the bank, to save themselves on the island, but before they could get over the chasm, a tree fell close by them and stopped their progress. As the bank appeared to me to be moving rapidly into the river, I called out to the men in the boat, "Coupez les cordes!" on hearing which, the two men ran down the bank, loosed the cords, and jumped into the boat. We were again on the river: the Chenal du Diable was in sight, but it appeared absolutely impassable, from the quantity of trees and drift wood that had lodged during the night against the planters fixed in the bottom of the river; and in addition to our difficulties, the patron and the men appeared to be so terrified and confused, as to be almost incapable of action. Previous to passing the channel, I stopped that the men might have time to become more composed. I had the good fortune to discover a bank, rising with a gentle slope, where we again moored, and prepared to breakfast on the island. Whilst that was preparing, I walked out in company with Morin, our patron, to view the channel, to ascertain the safest part, which we soon agreed upon. Whilst we were thus employed, we experienced a very severe shock, and found some difficulty in preserving ourselves from being thrown down; another occurred during the time we were at breakfast, and a third as we were preparing to re-embark. In the last, Mr. Bridge, who was standing within the declivity of the bank, narrowly escaped being thrown into the river, as the sand continued to give way under his feet. Observing that the men were still very much under the influence of terror, I desired Morin to give to each of them a glass of spirits, and reminding them that their safety depended on their exertions, we pushed out into the river. The danger we had now to encounter was of a nature which they understood: the nearer we approached it, the more confidence they appeared to gain; and indeed, all their strength, and all the skill of Morin, was necessary; for there being no direct channel through the trees, we were several times under the necessity of changing our course in the space of a few seconds, and that so instantaneously, as not to leave a moment for deliberation. Immediately after we had cleared all danger, the men dropped their oars, crossed themselves, then gave a shout, which was followed by mutual congratulations on their safety.

We continued on the river till eleven o'clock, when there was another violent shock, which seemed to affect us as sensibly as if we had been on land. The trees on both sides of the river were most violently agitated, and the banks in several places fell in, within our view, carrying with them innumerable trees, the crash of which falling into the river, mixed with the terrible sound attending the shock, and the screaming of the geese and other. wild fowl, produced an idea that all nature was in a state of dissolution. During the shock, the river had been much agitated, and the men became anxious to go ashore: my opinion was, that we were much safer on the river; but finding that they laid down their oars, and that they seemed determined to quit the boat for the present, we looked out for a part of the river where we might moor in security, and having found one, we stopped during the remainder of the day.

At three o'clock, another canoe passed us adrift on the river. We did not experience any more shocks until the morning of the 17th, when two occurred; one about five and the other about seven o'clock. We continued our voyage, and about twelve this day, had a severe shock, of very long duration. About four o'clock we came in sight of a log-house, a little above the Lower Chickasaw bluffs. More than twenty people came out as soon as they discovered us, and when within hearing, earnestly entreated us to come ashore. I found them almost distracted with fear, and that they were composed of several families, who had collected to pray together. On entering the house, I saw a bible lying open on the table. They informed me that the greatest part of the inhabitants in the neighbourhood had fled to the hills, on the opposite side of the river, for safety; and that during the shock, about sun-rise on the 16th, a chasm had opened on the sand bar opposite the bluffs below, and on closing again, had thrown the water to the height of a tall tree. They also affirmed that the earth opened in several places back from the river. One of the men, who appeared to be considered as possessing more knowledge than the rest, entered into an explanation of the cause, and attributed it to the comet that had appeared a few months before, which he described as having two horns, over one of which the earth had rolled, and was now lodged betwixt them: that the shocks were occasioned by the attempts made by the earth to surmount the other horn. If this should be accomplished, all would be well, if otherwise, inevitable destruction to the world would follow. FindIng him confident in his hypothesis, and myself unable to refute it, I did not dispute the point, and we went on about a mile further. Only one shock occurred this night, at half past seven o'clock. On the morning of the 18th, we had two shocks, one betwixt three and four o'clock, and the other at six. At noon, there was a violent one of very long duration, which threw a great number of trees into the river within our view, and in the evening, two slight shocks more, one at six, the other at nine o'clock.

19th.- We arrived at the mouth of the river St. Francis, and had only one shock, which happened at eleven at night.

20th.- Detained by fog, and experienced only two shocks, one at five, the other at seven in the evening.

21st.- Awakened by a shock at half past four o'clock: this was the last, it was not very violent, but it lasted for nearly a minute.

On the 24th in the evening, we saw a smoke, and knowing that there were no habitations on this part of the river, we made towards it, and found it to be the camp of a few Choctaw Indians, from whom I purchased a swan, for five balls and five loads of powder.

25th.- Monsieur Longpre overtook us, and we encamped together in the evening. He was about two hundred miles from us on the night of the 15th, by the course of the river, where the earthquakes had also been very terrible. It appeared from his account, that at New Madrid the shock had been extremely violent: the greatest part of the houses had been rendered uninhabitable, although, being constructed of timber, and framed together, they were better calculated to withstand the shocks than buildings of brick or stone. The greatest part of the plain on which the on which the town was situated was become a lake, and the houses were deserted.

TO roast a Pound of Butter or more the Irish Way.--Take a pound of butter, season it well with salt, and put it on a wooden spit; place it at a good distance from the fire, let it turn round, and as the butter moistens or begins to drip, drudge it well with fine oatmeal, continuing so to do till there is any moisture ready to drip, then baste it, and it will soon be enough. A certain Irish woman told me this eats vere nicely, insomuch that she has done on a Christmas eve twenty-seven different pounds so, at a farmer's house in her country, where it has been kept all the holidays, to accommodate a friend with a slice or two, as we do cakes or minced pies here.

Another Irish Country Dish.--Boil potatoes and parsnips till they are soft, make them into a mash with some new milk, and add a cabbage boiled tender and cut very small; mix the whole well over the fire with store of good butter, some salt and pepper, and eat it hot.

To make a Herricane.--Take slices of turneps, carrots, and some young onions; boil them a little to make them somewhat tender, and after some mutton steaks are fry'd and taken up, put in the parboil'd roots and fry them brown; clear your pan, put in some butter, flower, water, and some gravey (if you have it) and brown it; then put in your meat, &c. to warm, and serve it up.

To collar a Breast of Mutton.--Bone and skin it; then prepare some seasoning of parsley, a little thyme, onion, pepper and salt, with some small slips of bacon laid cross-ways, and your seasoning spread along it; roll it up, and tie it, setting it up end-ways in the saucepan with some water; cover it close, letting it stew gently till it be very tender; when you think it about half done, turn it.

To dress a Loin of Mutton.--Skin a loin of mutton, and thrust in long-ways some stuffing of parsley, a little onion, egg, bread, nutmeg, pepper, and salt, and then roast it.

The best Way to roast Pigeons --Is first to stuff them with parsley chopt very small, some butter, pepper, and salt; tie them close neck and vent, parboil them, and afterwards roast them. The parboiling makes them eat pleasanter, plumps them, and they eat not so dry as otherwise; and it takes off the usual strong tang.

Jugging Pigeons --Is to put one or more so stuft without liquor into a stone or other wide-mouthed earthen pot close tied over with bladder, and so boiled in water till enough.

To eat raw Cucumers in a wholesome pleasant Manner.--When you have pared and sliced cucumers, put a little water and some salt over them, and let them stand so about ten minutes; then drain that from them, and just wash them with a little vinegar, throwing that away likewise, before you put oil and vinegar upon them. This will make them eat much crisper and finer than without such management.--The addition of a few green nasturtian pods fresh gathered and eat with them, correct them, and make them much wholesomer as well as pleasanter, especially to such as do not chuse to eat onions with them.

The best Way to pickle Walnuts after the French Method.--Take fine fresh-gathered succulent walnuts about the latter end of June or beginning of July; wipe them well with flannel, and pour upon them rape vinegar enough to cover them. Let it be upon them nine or ten days, then pour it off into a jar or wide-mouth'd glass vessel, adding thereto a few bay-leaves, some horse-radish grosly scraped, some black pepper and salt at discretion; stop the vessel close, and put it by to be used for sauce as kechup, which it far exceeds. Then having put some pieces of horse-radish, a few bay-leaves, and some whole black pepper between every layer of the nuts, till the jar is near full, fll it up with the stoutest right white-wine vinegar cold, and cover it very close with bladder and leather, and they are done.--Be sure let no salt touch the nuts, and (thus managed) they will appear beautifully green, have their natural fine taste, and eat firm and good for five years or more.--This receit with the following one was given by Monsieur Lebat, who says this is the right way, and that in England they do not know how to pickle walnuts right.

To pickle Cucumers.--Take girkin cucumers fresh and dry gather'd, wipe them clean with flannel, and cover them with the best vinegar cold; let it lie upon them nine or ten days, then pour it off and cast it away. Just boil up some more best vinegar with some grosly scraped horse-radish, and whole black pepper; let it stand till it is cold, and having first put a little horse-radish thin sliced and whole pepper between every layer of the cucumers, pour over them the boiled cold vinegar; stop your jar very close with bladder and leather, and they are done.

To pickle Walnuts white.--Take your walnuts at the latter end of June, try them with a pin, &c. pare the green outside till you come to the white, and put them into cold water as you pare them. When done, fling them into a pot of boiling water, boil them till tender and as quick as you can; then take them out, and put them into cold water. A hundred and half will take up a quart of vinegar, one ounce of black pepper whole, half a quarter of an ounce of mace, and twelve cloves. Let them boil together, then fling in the nuts, and give them one boil; when cold, stop them close, and keep for use.

To pickle Oisters.--Take a quart of oisters and wash them in their own liquor from the gravel, then drain your liquor to them again, and set them over a fire to boil a quarter of an hour softly, to plump them; then take them out of the liquor and put them into the pot you keep them in, drain the liquor over again, and put to it four spoonfuls of white-wine vinegar, half a spoonful of whole pepper, a blade or two of mace, and a quarter of an ounce of cloves, with some lemon-peel and some salt. Let all these boil together a little while, pour it to the oisters and the spice with it, and when cold cover close.

Mrs. Hays's Receit to make a Seed Cake.--Take three pounds of flour, four ounces of fine sugar, half a pint of cream boiled, two pounds of melted butter, one pint of good ale yeast, eight eggs with two whites. Mix the sugar with the flour, make a hole in the flour, and put all these together into it. Let it stand by the fire half an hour, then mix it together, and strew in one pound of carraway-seed, then put it in a hoop and bake it an hour.

A notable Oxfordshire Housewife's common Way of makeing Marrow Puddings.--Take the crumb of a penny loaf, a pound of clean pick'd wash'd currants, the quantity of two London quarts of new milk boiled, the marrow of a common large bone, a pound of suet, nine yolks of eggs, half a pound of sugar, a nutmeg, and two pennyworth of mace powder'd, a little salt, and half a dozen large spoonfulls of flour. Mix, and fll your hog's guts but half full, tying each yard in four equal parts. After you have tye'd them up (that they are not above half-full) wash them in rather hotter than blood-warm new milk, and directly throw them into a kettle of boiling water, letting them only simmer therein for eight minutes, for if they continue longer they will burst: When boiled, lay them upon wheat straw on a sieve, and they will dry in seven or eight minutes; then you may broil them brown, and eat them. They will keep five or six days in warm weather, but at Christmas or in a hard frost thee weeks.

The Process of making Hogs large Gut white delicate Puddings.--Take a quarter of a peck of the best flour, three pounds of the hog's leaf cut small, two pounds of the best raisins of the sun, a quarter of an ounce of powder'd ginger, half a nutmeg, a blade of mace, a little stick of cinnamon, and three whole eggs well beat. Season the whole with salt and with new milk, blend these together almost as stiff as paste for pye-crust, fll your large guts moderately full, tie them at both ends about half a yard long, put them in boiling water, and let them boil a quarter of an hour upon a slow fire. Lay these upon straw as the other, and keep them so till used; then cut them in slices about half an inch thick, lay them upon the gridiron over a clear fire, broil them brown and eat them.--n. b. These last are praised much, as being exceeding fine, short, and well relished of the hog's meat.

To preserve the Chine, the Tongue, the Spare Ribs, short Ribs, But-Pieces, Hocks, and Head of a Porker or Baconer.--The common way practised by our Hertfordshire farmers wives to do this is thus: When they salt down the fleshy pieces of pork for pickling them, I say after this is done, they salt the two but-pieces, the two hocks, the two spare ribs, the chine, the head, and the tongue. If the chine and spare ribs are to be sold, I generally contrive to kill the hog a day or two before the market day, for the opportunity of selling them to the London higler, because these pieces fetch a better price than ordinary; in this case they only just sprinkle them with common salt. But if they are to be kept for spending them in the family, they salt the spare ribs, and hang them up where the blow-fly cannot come; and the chine, the hocks, the head, and the tongue, they salt and lay in an earthen glazed pot or tub, where they are to remain as they are put in, till they are dressed. In doing all which, they make use of no other than common salt; for as they are to be boil'd or roasted, or baked in a little time, they think there is no occasion for any other salt.--A second receit is how to salt a chine, spare ribs, and tongue, for drying them in a chimney: To do this, mix about a quarter of an ounce of powder'd salt-petre with a quart of common salt, and with this mixture salt the pieces all over; and when it is rubbed well in, let them lie under this salting two or three weeks; then wrap each of them in paper, and hang them up near but not too near a fire, and if this is cleverly done, the chine and spare ribs will keep good four, five, or six months; the spare ribs for roasting or baking, and the chine for boiling, provided they are (just before using) soaked in warm water a day and a night; and if they are not fresh enough, you may soak them in more warm water, and you need not fear their eating good and fresh: And I also add, that by this same method both pork and bacon offald may be preserved a great while sweet and sound, though kill'd and thus managed in summer; partly because salt-petre is a most powerful searcher and preventer of taints, and because it forces and drives in common salt, when they are mix'd and used together. But salting spare ribs thus is not agreeable to all, because the salt-petre colours them reddish, and hardens the thin meat of these bony pieces too much.--A farmer's wife, that lives near Market-Street in Hertfordshire, allows it to be a housewifely way, to put the short ribs of a porker into pickle, because, as she says, there is less waste of the flesh this way than in salting them; besides which, she thinks this bony meat eats the pleasanter for being thus pickled.--Another of our country housewives manages her offald pieces of pork in this manner: She makes pyes of her short bony pieces, and the coarse pieces she boils first; so that she salts down only her fat fleshy pieces of pork clear of all bone, for if the bony pieces of pork were salted down with the fleshy pieces, they would stink and corrupt the fleshy pieces.

To make a Mince-Pye costly and rich.--To one pound of the meat of a tongue, add two pounds of suet, six pippins, and a green lemon-peel shred small, with an ounce of Jamaica pepper, two pounds of currants, citron, lemon, and orange peels, candy'd and shred small. Mix all these with half a pint of sack, and fll your pye with it. And to make this richer still, add two spoonfuls of lemon juice or verjuice, stoned and sliced dates, with some chop'd raisins.--Another says: take an ox heart, or tongue, or meat of a surloin of beef, parboil it, and chop it with two pounds of suet to every pound of lean meat; this mix with a two-penny grated loaf and eight pippins minced fine. It makes excellent pyes, if spice, sack, and orange-peel are added, with two pounds of currants to every pound of meat. Also that this composition may be kept in an earthen pot in a dry place a month or more good, and to make the pyes eat moist, as soon as they are out of the oven, put in a glass of brandy or white-wine.--Another says, that savoury mince-pyes are best made with equal parts of mutton and veal, and other proper ingredients.--Another says, that double tripe boiled tender and minced small, with currants, sugar, and other materials, makes good mince-pyes.--Another, to make mince-pyes without flesh, says: Boil a dozen or more of eggs hard, then boil also a pound of rice very soft; mince the eggs, and beat the rice to a pap: Mix these with beef suet shred, currants, raisins, sugar, nutmeg, candy'd orange-peel, and put the whole into a pye with sack, and bake it in an oven moderately heated.

From the Country Housewife's Family Companion, 1750. Online version is here

Reverend Joseph Doddridge writes in 1824 about his childhood in the (mostly)1770s:

The furniture for the table, for several years after the settlement of this country, consisted of a few pewter dishes, plates, and spoons; but mostly of wooden bowls, trenchers and noggins. If these last were scarce, gourds and hard shelled squashes made up the deficiency.
The iron pots, knives, and forks were brought from the east side of the mountains along with the salt, and iron on pack horses.

These articles of furniture, corresponded very well with the articles of diet, on which they were employed. “Hog and hominy” were proverbial for the dish which they were the component parts. Jonny cake and pone were at the outset of the settlement of the country, the only forms of bread in use for breakfast and dinner. At supper, milk and mush were the standard dish. When milk was not plenty, which was often the case, owing to the scarcity of cattle, or the want of proper pasture for them, the substantial dish of hominy had to supply the place of them; mush was frequently eaten with sweetened water, molasses, bears oil, or the gravey of fried meat.
Every family, besides a little garden, for the few vegetables which they cultivated, had another small enclosure containing from half an acre to an acre, which they called a “Truck patch.” In which they raised corn, for roasting-ears, pumpkins, squashes, beans, and potatoes. These in the latter part of the summer and fall, were cooked with their pork, venison and bear meat for dinner and made very wholesome and well tasted dishes. The standard dinner dish for every log rolling, house raising and harvest day was a pot pye, or what in other countries is called “Sea pye.” This besides answering for dinner, served for a part of the supper also. The remainder of it from dinner, being eaten with milk in the evening, after the conclusion of the labour of the day.

In our whole display of furniture, the delft, china, and silver were unknown. It did not then as now require contributions from the four quarters of the globe to furnish the breakfast table, vis. the silver from Mexico,; the coffee from the West Indies; the tea from China, and the delft and porcelain from Europe, or Asia. Yet our homely fare, and unsightly cabins, and furniture, produced a hardy veteran race, who planted the first foot steps of society, and civilization, in the immense regions of the west. Inured to hardihood bravery, and labour from their early youth, they sustained with manly fortitude the fatigue, of the chase, the campaign and the scout, and with strong arms “Turned the wilderness into fruitful fields” and have left to their descendants the rich inheritance of an immense empire blessed with peace and wealth.


From: On the Settlement and Indian Wars of the western parts of Virginia and Pennsylvania, pgs, 108-109