Journeying West Before 1840

Based on a chart from John Filson's THE DISCOVERY, SETTLEMENT And present State of KENTUCKE, Wilmington, 1784, pps 115-116

Road to Pittsburg

From Philadelphia to Lancaster.....66 miles

to Middleton.......................26 miles

Harris's Ferry.....................10 miles

Carlisle...........................17 miles

Shippensburgh......................21 miles

Chamber's-town.....................11 miles

Fort Loudon........................13 miles

Fort Littleton.....................18 miles

Juanita Creek......................19 miles

Bedford............................14 miles

the foot of the Allegany Mountains...15 miles

Stony Creek.........................15 miles

the East Side of Laurel Hill........12 miles

Fort Ligonier........................9 miles

Pittsburg...........................54 miles

Total from Philadelphia: 320 miles

Of Poultry and their Eggs.

POULTRY and their eggs come more immediately under the care and management of our country housewife, than any other outward part of the farmer's business; and accordingly many farmers think it their interest to let their wives have all the profit of their eggs and poultry, for raising money to buy what we call common or trivial necessaries in the house, as sugar, plumbs, spices, salt, oatmeal, &c. &c. which piece of encouragement engages our housewife and her maid-servants to take special care of feeding her poultry in due time, setting her hens early, and making capons at a proper age.

The best Feed for Dunghill Fowls, to make them lay early Eggs, and many of them --Is horsebeans and hempseed. Of the first, a particular woman had such an opinion, that she preferred it to all others, and the rather as horsebeans in some wet summers grow in prodigious plenty, and are sold very cheap, sometimes for less than two shillings a bushel; hempseed indeed is dearer. As this last is furnished with much hot oil, as the horsebean is with a very hot quality, they both cause hens to lay in winter, when no other common seed can so well; but if hens were confined always in a room, it hinders very much their laying. The game hen lays most eggs, but they are commonly the least sort.

Sorts of Hens.--The Hertfordshire dunghill fowls and their eggs have been in great esteem a long time, and at this time their eggs have the greater reputation of all others, insomuch that the very cryers of eggs about London streets take particular care to make the word Hertfordshire be well known; for our country is a Chiltern one, abounding with many hills, dry soils, gravelly rivers, plenty of most sorts of grain, and allow'd by professors of physick to be the healthiest air in England, all which undoubtedly contributes to the breeding of the best of eggs and soundest of dunghill fowls; a proof of which is very demonstrable, by the game cocks bred in Hertfordshire, that beat for the most part those bred in other counties. But I can't say our dunghill fowls exceed all others, for there are excellent sorts of the Poland, the Hamburgh, and the Darking dunghill fowls; the character of the last of which is hereafter inserted.

Of Hens sitting, and of Chickens and young Ducks.--The game hen sits oftner than the dunghill hen, and will fight the hawk better in defence of her chickens: But as their legs are commonly as black as their feathers, few farmers keep them, because their blackish chickens will not sell like the white-leg'd dunghill sort. When a hen sits on her own eggs, she commonly hatches in three weeks, but when she sits on duck eggs, a month. If she has sat a week on duck eggs, and by accident the eggs are broke, or the hen too much disturbed, so that if she is set again on other duck eggs, she will not sit out her time; in such a case, if she is set again on the hen eggs, she will, because on these she sits a shorter time than on the duck eggs. A hen that sits beyond her time of three weeks seldom brings all her eggs to perfection, which is chiefly owing to her being set in a cold place, or going too far for her meat when off; but that is the best hen that hatches a day or two before the usual time. It is a fault to set a pullet with too many eggs. One was set with eighteen eggs, which she sat on well till the first chicken chirp'd, and then she was affrighted, ran away, and forsook the rest, so that our housewife could preserve but three, and for bringing them up she was forced to use more than ordinary care.--To have early chickens, an industrious housewife living at Gaddesden had a brood of chickens a fortnight old this 25th of February 1747-8; she set her hen in a chimney corner that had no fire near it, but on the back of the same chimney there was a daily one kept, which struck such a sufficient heat to the corner, as enabled the hen to sit close in this cold season, and hatch twelve chickens, which our housewife kept in this place, giving them offald wheat, that was screened at the mill from good wheat, and now and then some wetted pollard; with these the chickens went on well, and for eating up what the chickens and their hen left, our housewife let in a laying hen now and then, so that here was no waste made.

Dunghill Fowls, their Nature, by Mortimer.--The oldest are best sitters, and the youngest best layers, but good for neither if kept too fat. To breed right chickens is, from two to five years old; the best month is February, and so any time between that and Michaelmas [here Mr. Mortimer is wrong, for when a hen begins to moult, she ought not to be set, because her chickens then seldom live.] A hen sits (says he) twenty days; geese, ducks, and turkeys, thirty; let them have always meat by them while they sit, that they may not straggle from their eggs and chill them. One cock will serve ten hens. If fowls are fed with buck-wheat, they will lay more eggs than ordinary, and the same with hempseed; the buck-wheat whole, or ground and made into paste, which is the best way: It is a grain that will fatten hogs or fowls speedily, but they are commonly fatten'd with barley-meal made into a paste with milk; but wheat-flower is better.--Mortimer, vol. I.

To fatten Hens, Pullets, Chickens, Capons, or Turkeys.--Their coops must be kept very clean, for all ill smells and nastiness is prejudicial to the fattening of fowls, as contributing towards giving their flesh a bad tang, and an unwholsome quality; to this purpose, they should have also two troughs, that one may be scalded and dried, while the other is in use, and both meat and water, or other liquor, should be kept from each other free of any mixture. As to their meat, there may be several sorts made; one by boiling barley till it is tender in water, another parcel of it in skim milk, another in strong ale; when so boiled, a little coarse sugar may be mixed with it. Or make a paste with barley-meal, and water or skim milk. And as to their drink, let them have strong ale or skim milk, or water wherein a little brickdust is mixed; for if they have not something to scower their maws or crops, they will not thrive to expectation, therefore if brickdust is not put into their drink, either a little of that, or fine sand, should be mixed with their meat now and then, to get them an appetite, and make them digest their food the quicker; the ale will intoxicate them, and cause them to sleep much and fatten the sooner, but the milk tends most to the whitening of their flesh. Now it wants no demonstration by argument, to prove that variety of meats forward the expeditious fattening of any animal; in this case, therefore, give any of these fowls these several sorts of foods alternately; so will they be creating them an appetite while they are fattening, to the making of them exceeding fat in a little time.

An ancient Author's Way to fatten Chickens.--Boil (says he) bread in milk, as though they were to eat it, but make it thick of the bread, which slice into it in thin slices, not so thick as if it were to make a pudding; but so that when the bread is eaten out, there may some liquid milk remain for the chickens to drink; or that at first you may take up some liquid milk in a spoon, if you industriously avoid the bread; sweeten very well the pottage with good kitchen sugar of four-pence per pound, so put it into the trough before them; put therein but little at a time (two or three spoonfuls) that you may not clog them, and feed them five times a day, between their awaking in the morning and their roosting at night. Give them no other drink, the milk that remaineth after they have eaten the bread is sufficient, neither give them gravel or aught else; keep their coops very clean, as also their troughs, cleansing them well every morning. To half a dozen very little chickens, little bigger than blackbirds, an ordinary porringer full every day may serve, and in eight days they will be prodigiously fat. One penny loaf, and less than two quarts of milk, and about half a pound of sugar, will serve little ones the whole time; bigger chickens will require more, and two or three days longer time; when any of them are at their height of fat, you must eat them, for if they live longer, they will fall back and grow lean; be sure to make their pottage very sweet.--Or you may pound rice in a mortar till it is very small, and the smaller the better, for then it may be made into a paste with scalded milk and coarse sugar, which if given to chickens by a little at a time, so that they are not gorged, will fatten them in a very little time; let them have ale or good small beer to drink, and give their meat warm.--But there is a receit that directs the fattening of chickens with rice without pounding or grinding it, only to boil rice in milk till it be very tender and pulpy, as when you make milk-pottage; it must be thick, that a spoon may stand an end in it; sweeten this very well with ordinary sugar, and put it into their troughs where they feed, that they may be always eating of it; it must be made fresh every day; their drink must be only milk in another little trough by their meat-trough; let a candle (ftly disposed) stand by them all night for seeing their meat, for they will eat all night long. You put the chickens up as soon as they can feed of themselves, which will be within a day or two after they are hatched, and in twelve days or a fortnight they will be prodigiously fat; but after they are come to their height, they presently fall back, so that they must be eaten. Their pen or coop must be contrived so, that the hen (who must be with them to sit over them) may not go at liberty to eat their meat, but be kept to her own diet in a part of their coop that she cannot get out of; but the chickens must have liberty to go from her to other parts of the coop, where they may eat their own meat, and come in again to the hen to be warm'd by her at their pleasure. You must be careful to keep their coop very clean.--Or you may scald oatmeal in milk, and feed the chickens with it the first week, and rice and sugar the second week; in a fortnight they will be prodigiously fat; a little gravel will now be necessary sometimes to cleanse their maws and give them an appetite.

Sir Kenelm Digby's Receit to make a luscious Food to fatten Chickens in the sweetest and quickest Manner.--Stone (says he) a pound of raisins of the sun, and beat them in a mortar to pulp, pour a quart of milk upon them, and let them soak so all night; next morning put to them as many crums of grated stale bread, which beaten together will bring them to a soft paste; work all well together, and lay it in the trough before the chickens (which must be about six in a pen, and keep it very clean) and let a candle be by them all night. The delight of this meat will make them eat continually, and they will be so fat (when they are but of the bigness of blackbirds) that they will not be able to stand, but sit down upon their bellies to eat.

Gaddesden Farmers Way to feed Chickens.--Notwithstanding we live on a high hill, and on a red clayey soil, yet some of our farmers venture their early bred chickens abroad, and let them take their chance in going with the hen abroad from the first, even in February or March, though the weather is frost or snow; but then we take care to give them a hearty food, for enabling them to withstand the cold; and that is whole oatmeal and barley mixt together, which will so hearten them, that they will not kill themselves with chirping and pain, as those chickens are apt to do, that are fed with sloppy meat, such as wetted pollard, &c. And if the chickens should fall sick, we give each one sow-bug or wood-louse, and it often recovers it; but a hen as well as a chicken is killed by musty corn. The chicken is cured by the bug, or both the hen and chicken are sometimes cured by rue.--Butter and scouring-sand must be given a little in large pills or pellets.--For the same reason, put rue into the water the chickens drink, which will keep them in health, and from the cramp.

The Country Housewife's Family Companion, W. Eliis, London,1750

From Travels in America performed in 1806, for the purpose of exploring the rivers Alleghany, Monongahela, Ohio, and Mississippi, and ascertaining the produce and condition of their banks and vicinity. By Thomas Ashe, esq, London, R. Phillips, 1808.

Letter 1 (pp 1-21)

General character of the north-eastern States of America:--of the middle States:--the southern. Town of Pittsburg. Alleghany mountains. Lancaster. The Susquehanna. Harrisburg. Shippensburg, and Strasburg. Interesting account of a tavern and its occupiers. Bedford. Sublimity and horror of a night passed in a forest. Thoughts on natural history:--St. Pierre.

Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, October, 1806.

DEAR SIR,

I THOUGHT that you knew my heart too well, to attribute my silence to a decay of affection; and I had hopes that you entertained too just an opinion of my head, to expect from me extraordinary discoveries in philosophy or politics. At the same time, I hope to convince you that my supposed neglect has operated to the advantage of my correspondence.

The American states through which I have passed, are unworthy of your observation. Those to the north-east are indebted to nature for but few gifts: they are better adapted for the business of grazing than for corn. The climate is equally subject to the two extremes of burning heat and excessive cold; and bigotry, pride, and a malignant hatred to the mother-country, characterize the inhabitants. The middle States are less contemptible: they produce grain for exportation; but wheat requires much labour, and is liable to blast on the sea-shore. The national features here are not strong, and those of different emigrants have not yet composed a face of local deformity: we still see the liberal English, the ostentatious Scotch, the warm-hearted Irish, the penurious Dutch, the proud German, the solemn Spaniard, the gaudy Italian, and the profligate French. What kind of character is hereafter to rise from an amalgamation of such discordant materials, I am at a loss to conjecture.

For the southern States, nature has done much, but man little. Society is here in a shameful degeneracy: an additional proof of the pernicious tendency of those detestable principles of political licentiousness, which are not only adverse to the enjoyment of practical liberty, and to the existence of regular authority, but destructive also of comfort and security in every class of society; doctrines here found by experience, to make men turbulent citizens, abandoned Christians, inconstant husbands, unnatural fathers, and treacherous friends. I shun the humiliating delineation, and turn my thoughts to happier regions which afford contemplation without disgust; and where mankind, scattered in small associations, are not totally depraved or finally corrupt. Under such impressions, I shall write to you with pleasure and regularity; trusting to your belief, that my propensity to the cultivation of literature has not been encouraged in a country where sordid speculators alone succeed, where classic fame is held in derision, where grace and taste are unknown, and where the ornaments of style are condemned or forgotten. Thus guarding you against expectations that I should fear to disappoint, I proceed to endeavour at gratifying the curiosity which my ramblings excite in your mind.

The town of Pittsburg* is rather more than 300 miles from Philadelphia: of which space, 150 miles are a continued succession of mountains, serving as a barrier against contending seas; and as a pregnant source of many waters, which take opposite directions, and after fertilizing endless tracts, and enriching various countries, are lost in the immensity of the Mexican Gulf and the Atlantic Ocean. Knowing the road to be mountainous and stony, I preferred travelling on horseback to going in a stage-coach, that is seven or eight days on the road; and the fare in which, for the whole journey, is twenty-four dollars. The first sixty miles were a turnpike road; and my horse, which cost me only eighty dollars, arrived tolerably fresh at the end of them in twelve hours. distant [Note : * Situated in latitude 40° 26' north, and longitude 79° 48' west from London.]

The place at which I stopped was Lancaster, the county-town of Pennsylvania. The inhabitants are chiefly Dutch and Irish, or of Dutch and Irish extraction: they manufacture excellent rifle-guns and other hardware. The town is large, clean, and well built; but in spite of these attractions, I quitted it the next morning by sun-rise. Dr. Johnson was never more solicitous to leave Scotland, than I was to be out of the Atlantic States. In hurrying along the next day, my career was interrupted by the rapid Susquehanna. The peevishness and dissatisfaction which before possessed me, were now compelled to yield to contrary sensations. The breadth and beauty of the river, the height and grandeur of its banks, the variation of scenery, the verdure of the forests, the murmur of the water, and the melody of birds, all conspired to fill my mind with vast and elevated conceptions.

Harrisburg, a handsome Dutch town, stands on the cast bank of this river. I did not stop however, but pursued my course to Carlisle; which has a college, and the reputation of a place of learning. This may be so but, I have the misfortune to dispute it; for though indeed I saw an old brick building called the university, in which the scholars had not left a whole pane of glass, I did not meet a man of decent literature in the town. I found a few who had learning enough to be pedantic and impudent in the society of the vulgar, but none who had arrived at that degree of science which could delight and instruct the intelligent.

Having thus no motive for delay here, I passed on to Shippensburg and Strasburg, both German or Dutch towns; the latter at the foot of the stupendous mountains before alluded to, and which are called the Alleghany. During the first and second days, I met with no considerable objects but such as I was prepared to expect; immense hills, bad roads, and frightful precipices: I drove my horse before me most of the distance. On the evening of the third, about dusk, I arrived at the tavern where I meant to repose: it was a miserable log-house, filled with emigrants who were in their passage to the Ohio; and a more painful picture of human calamity was seldom beheld:--old men embarking in distant arduous undertakings, which they could never live to see realized; their children going to a climate destructive to youth; and the wives and mothers partaking of all these sufferings, to become victims in their turn to the general calamity. This scene held out no very strong temptation to me for passing the night here, but there was no alternative; for my horse was tired, the wolves were out, and the roads impassable in the dark: the fire-side too, and all the seats, were occupied, and the landlord was drunk.

I was too much engrossed however with the distress round me, sensibly to feel my own. I stood in fact motionless, with my arms folded, and fell into a reverie; from which I was roused by a meteor crossing the room, or at least my surprise was as great as would have been occasioned by such a phenomenon. It was a beautiful young woman,

--"Fitted or to shine in courts With unaffected grace; or walk the plain, With innocence and meditation join'd In soft assemblage."

She spoke to her father, and then addressed me with infinite grace: lamenting that their accommodation "was so bad a gentleman;" and offering to make a fire and serve supper up stairs, and strive to make me as comfortable as the situation and circumstances would permit. In a short time she was as good as her word; and invited me to a small room, clean and warm, with supper already served. In all this proceeding; in her conversation, actions, and manners; there was a merit which could not be the result of a common mind. Her person was tall and elegant: her eyes were large and blue: her features regular and animated; and expressive of a pride and dignity which the meanest clothing, and the strongest consciousness of her humble circumstances in life, could neither destroy nor conceal. I desired her to sit down, and then questioned her on local subjects: her answers were neat and sensible. I extended my inquiries to a wider range; talking of natural curiosities in the neighbourhood, the face of the country, manners, books, &c. and to these particulars also her replies were judicious, intelligent, and unassuming. She had read much; and the impression which this had made on her, appeared favourable to her retired life, to virtue, and to feeling: too
much so to the latter; for when I exclaimed, "By what accident has one so lovely in person, so improved in understanding, and so delicate in mind, become the inhabitant of these terrific mountains, these gloomy woods?" she burst into tears, and left me. I then rose from table, called the ostler, and saw my horse fed; and this man explained the mystery. The young lady's father, it seems, was an Irishman; who, having been once opulent, gave his children the most refined education which his country could afford. He was respected and happy: they were admired and beloved. In an evil day, some jealous demon infused into his heart disaffection to his king: he associated with misguided characters, was implicated in their guilt, and with them banished from his native land. His amiable and suffering family followed him to America; where, soon after his arrival, some swindlers stripped him of most of his money. He took refuge in profligacy and drink; his wife died of a broken heart; his child is fading in unmerited misery; and he is left to drag on a wretched existence, which in the moments of reason must be embittered to a degree too painful to hear, or almost to think of.

I saw Eleanor (for that was the name of this interesting creature) the next morning, when she had returned to her usual duties and apparent serenity. I had an elegant edition of Thomson in my pocket, which attracted her notice as it lay on my supper-table the night before. I now wrote a romantic but just compliment on a blank leaf in it, and then presented to her the book: after which I instantly mounted my horse, and resumed my journey; deprecating the revolutionary politics which had brought this family, and thousands of others, into such ignominy and distress.

The town of Bedford is next to Strasburg, and consists of about two hundred well built houses. It is natural to inquire into the motives which could tempt men to settle in a region so remote from commerce and the world: iron-mines, and some fine interval land (as it is here called), were the original attractions. Bedford is but a short day's ride from the highest mountain of the prodigious chain; and which, by way of distinction, is called exclusively "the Alleghany:" the others having received names from local events, or something remarkable in their features; as Coneeocheque or Bloody Mountains, the Three Brothers, the Walnut and the Laurel Hills, &c. I travelled along so attentive to the objects round me, and wasted so much time in visionary speculations, that I was overtaken by night on the summit of the mountain; where the road was narrow and bounded by frightful precipices. If I attempted to advance, a sudden and rapid death was unavoidable; or if I remained where I was, wolves, panthers, and tiger-cats, were at hand to devour me. I chose the latter risk, as having less of fatal certainty in it: I thought I could effect something by resistance; or that fortune might favour me by giving a more suitable supper, and a different hunting-ground, to the ferocious animals.

The progress of night was considerably advanced; and the powerful exhalations of the preceding sun, for want of wind to disperse or waft them to other parts, were returning to their parent woods. They at first hovered, in the form of transparent clouds, over small creeks and rivulets in the intervals of the mountain; and then assumed a wider range, spreading over the entire valley, and giving to it the appearance of a calm continued sea. This beautiful transfiguration took place several hundred feet below me; while the summit of the hill had no mist, and the dew was not sensible. The moon shone, but capriciously: for though some places were adorned with her brightest beams, and exhibited various fantastic forms and colours, others were unaffected by her light, and awfully maintained an unvaried gloom; a "darkness visible," conveying terror and dismay.

Such apprehensions were gaining fast on my imagination, till an object of inexpressible sublimity gave a different direction to my thoughts, and seized the entire possession of my mind. The heavenly vault appeared to be all on fire: not exhibiting the stream or character of the aurora-borealis; but an immensity vivid and clear, through which the stars, detached from the firmament, traversed in eccentric directions, followed by trains of light of diversified magnitude and brightness. Many meteors rose majestically
out of the horizon: and having gradually attained an elevation of thirty degrees, suddenly burst; and descended to the earth in a shower of brilliant sparks, or glittering gems. This splendid phenomenon was succeeded by a multitude of shooting-stars, and balls and columns of fire; which, after assuming a variety of forms (vertical, spiral, and circular.), vanished in slight flashes of lightning, and left the sky in its usual appearance and serenity. "Nature stood checked" during this exhibition: all was

"A death-like silence, and a dread repose."

Would it had continued so for a time! for I had insensibly dropped on my knees; and felt that I was offering to the great Creator of the works which I witnessed, the purest tribute of admiration and praise. My heart was full: I could not suppress my gratitude, and tears gushed from my eyes.

These pious, these pleasing sensations, were soon forced to yield to others arising out of the objects and circumstances round me. The profound silence maintained during the luminous representation, was followed by the din of the demon of the woods. Clouds of owls rose out of the valleys, and flitted screaming about my head. The wolves too held some prey in chace, probably deer their howlings were reverberated from mountain to mountain; or, carried through the windings of the vales, returned to the ear an unexpected wonder. Nor was the panther idle; though he is never to be heard till in the act of springing on his victim, when he utters a horrid cry. The wolf, in hunting, howls all the time; certainly with the view of striking terror: for, being less fleet than many of the animals on which he subsists, they would escape him if he did not thus check their speed by confounding their faculties. This is particularly the case with the deer: at the hellish cry, the poor animal turns, stops, and trembles; his eyes fill; his flanks heave; his heart bursts; and he dies the moment before the monster rushes upon him. The tiger-cat was busily employed close by me. Like our little domestic creature of the same species, he delights in tormenting, and is admirably skilled in the art. He had now caught an opossum, as I understood by the lamentations, but was in no haste to kill it. By the action and noise, he must have let it escape his clutches several times, and as often seized and overpowered it again; dropping it from the tree, and chasing it up the trunk, till, the wretch being wearied at length with his vagaries and cruelty, he strangled and devoured it.

The intervals between these cries and roarings, were filled by the noise of millions of other little beings. Every tree, shrub, plant, and vegetable, harboured some thousands of inhabitants, endowed with the faculty of expressing their passions, wants, and appetites, in different tones and varied modulations. The most remarkable was the voice of whip-poor-will: plaintive and sad, "Whip poor Will!" was his constant exclamation; nor did he quit his place, but seemed to brave the chastisement which he so repeatedly lamented. The moon, by this time, had sunk into the horizon; which was the signal for multitudes of lightning-flies to rise amidst the trees, and shed a new species of radiance round. In many places, where they rose and fell in numbers, they appeared like a shower of sparks; and in others, where thinly scattered, they emitted an intermittent pleasing ray.

At length the day began to dawn: both the noisy and the glittering world now withdrew, and left to Nature a silent solemn repose of one, half-hour. This I employed in reflections on the immensity and number of her works, and the presumption of man in pretending to count and describe them. Whoever dares to compose the history of nature, should first pass a night where I did: he would there be taught the vanity of his views, and the audacity of his intentions. He would there learn, that though gifted with a thousand years of life, and aided by ten thousand assistants, he still would be hardly nearer to his purpose; neither the time nor the means would be sufficient for him to pourtray, with their properties, the herbs under his foot, and, with their affections, the insects that dwell among them. Yet every country has its natural historian! A residence of three weeks, and a daily walk of two hours for that period, are deemed an ample qualification for the
discovery and character of the productions of some of the finest regions on the globe. Such was not the disposition of St. Pierre: after passing many years in the laborious search of natural objects, and many years more in investigating their laws and principles, as a preparation for writing the history of nature, he abandoned the pursuit as impracticable and impious; and favoured the world merely with his Studies, which are beautiful, intelligent, and unassuming.

I conclude for the present; again entreating you to observe, that in my letters you are not to look for the graces of style, or peculiar accuracy of detail. I write from the heart, from the impulse of the impressions made by real events; and this will, I hope, sufficiently gratify your tender and amiable feelings.

T. A.