July 24th.—We were aroused early by the trampling of steeds and upon looking out beheld several fine stages each having four horses which were soon to start upon their different roads. Our breakfast over we with the party mentioned above entered a large convenient coach and just as the clock struck seven left the hotel. Upon reaching the top of the hill above the town we looked down upon as fair a scene as any we had seen in our travels. The town was strewed over the hill below us, while the beautiful Ohio lay like a circlet of silver around a pretty island covered with waving corn and dotted with farm-houses, and then glided away in its course winding among the soft green hills until it disappeared behind one of them. The island is Zane’s island, containing three hundred and fifty acres. We had now looked our last upon the lovely valley of the Ohio, and its beautiful river the Belle riviere of the French, and Ohio Peekhanne of the Indian. This valley is from the sources of the Ohio to the Mississippi eleven hundred miles in length, and nearly three hundred miles in breadth. It sweeps down from the Alleghanies at an elevation of two thousand two hundred and thirty feet to the Ohio and then ascends gently four hundred feet to the ridge which divides its waters from those which flow into the gulf of St. Lawrence, a distance of nearly three hundred miles. Through this valley winds in graceful bends the noble Ohio eleven hundred miles from its source, and nine hundred and forty-eight from its junction with the Monongohela at Pittsburg. It divides the valley in two unequal portions, having one hundred and sixteen thousand square miles upon the south-east side, and eighty thousand upon the north-west. This valley enjoys a pleasant temperature not too cold to paralyze exertion, and not so warm as to enervate. Its soil is capable of yielding fruits, vegetables, and grains, of the finest quality and in great profusion, and mineral products of the utmost importance to man; and it is settled by a free, virtuous, and enlightened people; add to this the scenery is beautiful and varied, and I think you will look far to find a region of country uniting so many advantages. The dark clouds of slavery which shadow its borders is the only spot in its fair horizon. The valley of the Ohio is in the centre of a great plain, which as the Appalachian chain was elevated raised up that portion, and consequently the rivers which flow over that division come with more impetuosity and dig for themselves deep trenches in the earth. Many who have carefully examined this region are of opinion the regular hills which border the Ohio and many of its tributaries, are parts of the primitive plain, which the streams have worn down into their present shapes. In this valley lies that great coal basin which is so ably described by Dr. Hildreth in the American Journal of Science. It extends over four or five degrees of latitude, and as many of longitude. A circle drawn from the head waters of the Muskingum to the sources of the Alleghany, and from thence to those of the Monongohela and Kenawha would mark the extent of this deposit, comprising portions of Pennsylvania, Virginia, Ohio and Kentucky.
Adieu to the fair Ohio! It has carried us for nearly nine hundred miles in safety upon its bosom, unharmed by snag or sawyer; and I say with Milton,
“May thy brimmed waves for this,
Their full tribute never miss,
From a thousand petty rills,
That rumble down the snowy hills;
Summer drought or singed air,
Never reach thy tresses fair;
Nor wet October’s torrent flood,
Thy molten crystal fill with mud.”
Our day’s journey was very delightful. The country is rolling, and alternately pretty hill and dale scenery, and winding rivulets. The first part of our ride was through Virginia, but in a short time at the village of Alexandria, we entered Pennsylvania. We drove over the national road, which runs from Cumberland, in Maryland, and passes through the intervening States to Vandalia, Illinois, from whence it is expected to be finished to Alton. This is a firm McAdamized road, eighty feet broad, carried over mountains, vallies and rivers, crossing the latter as well as every ravine and depression by well built stone bridges. This very useful and well executed work was done by government, at the suggestion of our statesman, Henry Clay. We passed a neat farm house, before which stood a bronze statue of Clay, placed there by a widow lady, owner of the place, in gratitude for the benefit this road had produced to her property. We of course were in duty bound to admire the statue, while rolling so rapidly and smoothly over this excellent road. At Washington, Pa., we dined; a pretty town, having three churches, hotels, and shops, with a college, a large building, in the centre of pleasant grounds. A large court-house, of brick, was in progress. The dinner was good, but plain. The hills which we passed in the afternoon, were covered with rich pasture land, where sheep and cattle were making a fine feast. These grassy hills are famous for the ‘glade butter,’ which is celebrated around the country, and which we found very sweet and fresh. While descending the side of one of these hills, we were told Brownsville, Pa., was in sight, and looking down, we beheld a town in the valley, with the pretty Monongohela glistening in the bright sun, as it wound its way around the hills. Rattling over a fine, strong, covered bridge, we stopped to change horses before the principal hotel. This is a large manufacturing town, containing five thousand inhabitants. Steamboats are here built, and completely fitted up; and when the river is high, they run to Pittsburg, sixty miles distant. The hills are high around, abounding in bituminous coal, and laid with strata of limestone and sandstone. The coal here is very rich. Dark, heavy masses, after we had left this place, began to appear in the horizon, and we were rejoiced to hear they were the celebrated Alleghany mountains. We took tea at Uniontown, Pa., at the foot of the chesnut ridge, and soon after began to ascend the mountain. Our mountain ride was delightful, and when near the summit we all descended from the stage coach, to enjoy the views. What a glorious thing to stand upon the top of a mountain! How exultingly you gaze upon the world below! You feel so proud of the great feat you have performed; you breathe freer; the heavens seem nearer and brighter, and the earth—but do not let me speak against the earth, for never had it looked more enchanting than when looking upon it from the summit of the Alleghanies. The fair fields of Pennsylvania, were spread out below, varied with herbage of every shade; with groves and villages, and streams, whose waters were tinted with rose from the setting sun; around in every direction was a green ocean of hill tops, robed in a vesture of purple haze. You will smile at my heroics upon the summit of so small a mountain as one of the Alleghanies, scarcely three thousand feet above the earth, and think it better applied to the Chimborazo, Popocatapetl, or even Rocky Mountains; but fortunately, I have never been upon higher ground, and enjoy the view from the Appalachian range, as much as if I stood upon the Nevados of our southern continent, twenty-five thousand feet above the sea. Depend upon it, those who have seen every thing, who have been rowed down the Nile; climbed the rocks of Petra; worshipped at Jerusalem; toiled up the Himalayas; and frozen in Siberia, are no happier than we, who have been creeping about the circle of our home. To everything you call upon them to admire they answer, ‘J’ai vu;’ they have seen everything. If you praise a song, they turn away with scorn and speak of the opera at Naples; if you ask them to visit our springs or our cities, they talk of the spa’s of Europe, of Paris, of London, and Petersburgh. They have nothing to do but fold their hands, grumble at the present, and live upon the past. I have not seen, and therefore may be allowed to expatiate upon the beauties of the Alleghanies. All that night we drove up the hills and down the hills, shut up in the stage coach. We were glad of our cloaks, for it was very cold, and at every stopping place we found fires, although at the foot of the mountains the thermometer stood at eighty. We talked merrily at first and kept up each others spirits, but towards midnight we grew cold and weary, and one after another sank into silence. There was much nodding and dozing, but little sleeping; for as soon as one fell into a doze another was sure to ask you if you could sleep, or how you came on, a question sure to put to flight your endeavors. At last, hopeless of sleep, we gave it up by mutual consent, and tried to amuse each other by stories. One of our party was a western merchant who had frequently travelled over these mountains, and met with numerous adventures. He told us of an adventure which befel him twenty years since, when the mountains were little travelled, and only accessible on horseback. He was carrying a large sum of money in his saddle-bags, which he feared had been discovered by two ill looking men whom he had seen in the tavern where he had stopped just at dusk. He for some time felt a little fear, but the night had nearly worn away and he had not seen any one; when, soon after midnight, as he was pacing slowly along, he fancied he caught a glimpse of a man standing by the road side just before him. He gazed intently through the darkness and saw distinctly two men who drew farther out of the moonlight into the shade of the trees as he approached. He knew not what to do; he was not armed, no house was near, and if he left the road he must be lost in the pathless woods. Go on he must, and he determined to put spurs to his horse and dart past them. He gazed forward to see if his path were clear; a deep silence reigned around, when ‘Dismount and give up your money!’ resounded like thunder in his ears, echoing away among the silent aisles of the mountain forest. Two men were before him; his whip was wrenched from his hands; he was dragged to the ground; the robbers mounted his steed and rode away. ‘Well, there I was in a pretty fix, anyhow,’ he said, ‘sitting upon a mound of snow all alone, in a wild wood at midnight, my two hundred dollars and my horse all gone. I might have said with Shakspeare’s queen, ‘Here I in sorrow sit,’ etc., but I was not in a poetical mood anyhow. Besides, I could blame no one but myself, for I ought to have kept my eye skinned, and not have been so blind as not to see the danger of travelling in wild parts with so much gold. Still, if the parts were wild, we had never heard of any robbery committed here, and did not expect it.’ ‘Did you ever discover the robbers?’ we asked. ‘Oh, yes! I went back to the village, and every one turned out to help me. There was snow on the ground and we were thus able to track them. I was forced to go all the way to Buffalo, however, ere one was caught by the police. He had lived like a prince all along the road and spent his share of the money.’ ‘What became of the other man?’ ‘Why, ma’am, as I was one day walking through Pratt street, in Baltimore, some months after, whom should I meet but my man, dressed in the newest style, parading along as proud as a prairie cock, with a grand lady upon each arm. I knew him, as I had remarked him at the tavern, and by the bright moonlight. He also remembered me, and when he saw my eye so eagerly fixed upon him, without saying good bye to the ladies, or even waiting upon them home, he scattered at once down the street, and I after him. If you had seen the ladies stare! Away he went, up street, down street, along the wharves, in the vessels, out again. At last, thinking he had dodged me, he sprang into an empty hogshead. But I wasn’t to be did that way anyhow; so I flung a board over the top, and standing on it, clapped my arms and crowed in such a tone of triumph, that all the cocks in the neighboring yards crowed in concert. In short my man was treed and imprisoned, but my money was gone.’
July 25th.—At day-break I lifted the curtain, and by the uncertain light of dawn, beheld at my side a wide river, whose opposite shores were green and hilly. ‘Are we over the mountains already? What river can this be?’ I asked. With a smile, one of the party informed me we were on the summit of a high mountain, and the deep valley filled with mist, with the opposite summits for a shore, made my river. A bright sun soon dispersed the mist, and we were never tired of the variety of views we beheld upon every hand. That the mountains are not very high adds to the beauty of the scene; their heads are not lost in the clouds, and we frequently see the whole mass at once. While descending one Alleghany we beheld another before us, like a high green wall reaching to the heavens, while a line across the summit showed the road we were to travel; so high and precipitous it seemed, that we wondered how we ever should reach the road. Descending again this ridge, we gazed out over a great extent of country, or down into deep valleys, brightened by winding streams, while trees, and flowers, and vines of every tint and form, adorned the path. The laurels were out of bloom, but their deep green glossy leaves shone out continually from the foliage. The chesnut was also frequent; these two giving names to the two ridges we had passed, Laurel and Chesnut ridges. We also remarked the pretty striped maple, whose green bark is striped with black. This is sometimes called moose wood, as the moose-deer always seeks with avidity its tender leaves and bark. The box elder also occurs upon these slopes, with the holly, and varieties of the magnolia, the turpelo, gum tree, besides noble forests of many other trees. The road although leading over mountain ridges and passes, is not a lonely one, as stages loaded with passengers, were continual passing, and huge Pennsylvanian waggons with the large Normandy horses, high collar, and jingling a bell to give notice of their approach. The women of the country we often met upon horseback, sitting upon their gaily embroidered saddles. The fine broad smooth National road over which we were passing enabled the drivers to keep their horses upon a very quick trot. I am fond of rapid driving, but sometimes it made me rather nervous to dash at the rate of eight miles an hour, within two feet of a precipice down which we looked upon the tops of trees a thousand feet below. There is, however, very little danger, as where the descent is steep, the driver can, in a moment, by putting his foot upon a spring at his side, cramp the wheel, and check our speed. After ascending a high mountain, we found a tavern, whose sign bore the hospitable words ‘Welcome from the west.’ We were much pleased with this kind reception, until upon looking back, perceived upon the other side of the sign ‘welcome from the east.’ I wish the good lady who erected a statue to Clay, would place a monument upon the Alleghanies, to commemorate honest Daniel Boon, who claims to be the first who discovered the fair western plains. Sir Alexander Spotswood, a governor of Virginia, penetrated part of the way through the mountains. There was no National road then, and the hills were almost impassable. To stimulate discovery, he instituted the order of the golden horse-shoe, for those who could pass the Blue Ridge. He was anxious to counteract the influence of the French upon the Mississippi. There should also be a statue to good old Father Marquette, upon the shore of Lake Michigan, as, before him, no white man had penetrated farther in the wilderness. He persevered and discovered the Mississippi. We passed several towns, as Smythfield, Petersburg, Frostburg, Cumberland, &c. This last town is in Maryland, upon a branch of the Potomac, one hundred and forty miles from Baltimore. The scenery around it is beautiful. It lies in a valley, through which glistens the Potomac river, surrounded by mountains. We reached it this morning, after descending a slope which seemed to rise one mass of rocks above us. The town has several large hotels, a college, court-house, and many shops. We stopped here to change horses. Here commences the transition formations, the Appalachian range, dividing the transition from the secondary formations of the western valley. So clear and distinct is this division, that the celebrated geologist, Dr. Aikin, fixed upon the ground between Cumberland and Hancock, forty miles distant, as the spot where the Appalachian chain emerged from beneath, upheaved by igneous action. The mountain which we descended to Cumberland, is called the Alleghany by pre-eminence, it being the highest elevation, and is the ridge which divides the waters which flow into the Ohio, from those which reach the Atlantic. The rocks which we had observed upon our road, were the usual limestone, marl, and conglomerates of the west, mixed with much bituminous coal, while now we remarked with them, grey wacke and transition slates. The Baltimore and Ohio railroad will pass through Cumberland, and the Chesapeake and Ohio canal. Here also the National commences, and we there left it, but found a very good one which continued, with some failures, during the day. We dined at Pine Grove, a small village. Near the hotel is a sulphur spring, which we were obliged to taste, to gratify the landlord, and which was as nauseous as one could desire. This afternoon we passed some very pretty mountain scenery; none so high as those we had left behind, for we were only upon the steps which lead down from the ridge to the plains below. From Sidling Hill we looked down into a large valley surrounded by a circle of hills, through which a river winding its way formed several islands. In the centre, was a high rounded knoll covered with fields of ripened grain, its bright yellow contrasting well with the dark woods which surround it. They have a curious way here of laying the grain when cut, in squares or circles, which looks very pretty at a distance. We took tea at Hancock, a town upon the banks of the Potomac. The Chesapeake and Ohio canal is finished as far as this place. We were but little over half way to Baltimore here, having come, we were told, one hundred and sixty miles from Wheeling. Another night was passed in the stage, only varied by occasional stoppages to change horses. About day-break we stopped at Hagarstown, a very large, thriving place, containing churches, academies, and many handsome private dwellings. The hotel which we entered while the horses were changed, was large, and seemed very commodious. After leaving it, we found the valley in which it stands, was very highly cultivated. It is underlaid with a dark blue limestone; the soil is very rich, and the wheat which it produces, is sent to Baltimore, and highly esteemed. We saw some of this limestone which occasionally cropped out; veins of calcareous spar crossed the blue, in some instances. Quartz pebbles, and large nodules were spread over the country for miles, between this town and Frederic, as if a storm of enormous hail had spent its fury over the land. Rounded pieces, as large as a man’s fist, and white as milk, lay against the fences, or were piled up by the husbandman. The county to Frederic is very pretty, undulating, cultivated, and well settled, while dark masses in the distant horizon told us our pretty mountains were far behind us.
July 26th.—At eleven o’clock, we reached Frederick city, where we breakfasted. This is a very pretty city, having an air of antiquity; as we now had arrived in an old settled country, and the newly painted towns were giving place to what are called old, although not what an European would deem aged. I was almost too sleepy to see much of it, but as we rattled over paved streets, and looked upon rows of houses, we seemed quite at home again.
We bade adieu to the stage-coach, and after a good breakfast, entered the rail-road car, and were whirled along with a rapidity which was frightful, after our stage-coach pace. The cars were handsomely finished, having an apartment appropriated to the ladies, where reclining upon the blue satin sofas we relieved our cramped limbs. The country, between Frederick and Baltimore, is very pretty. I think it is about sixty miles from the one place to the other. We passed many good houses, surrounded with fine farms, having the shining Monocasy river, winding among them. We crossed this and the Petapsco, over several bridges. The latter river flows between high banks of granite. Fifteen miles, from Baltimore, are the celebrated Ellicots mills, built of the granite of the cliffs, upon which they stand, where is ground the excellent Baltimore flour, raised from the fertile country around Frederick and Hagarstown. Some of the deep cuts of the rail-road seem to be through a mass of debris, of all colours, red, white, and blue, mixed with talcose slate, and blue limestone, until near Baltimore, when we entered that granitic belt, which stretched through the Atlantic, border to Georgia, and which is supposed once to have been the original Atlantic coast, before the band of alluvion was formed. After passing many fanciful country seats, and the fine viaduct which leads to Washington, we beheld Baltimore, an enormous mass of brick and stone lying upon the shore of Petapsco bay. Our western friends were delighted and surprised at the sight of so large a city while driving through the street. We arrived at Barnham’s large and elegant hotel just as they were eating dinner. We had infringed upon our Sabbath thus far, without intending it, as we were told we should arrive in Baltimore in time for morning services. In the afternoon and evening, however, there was opportunity of joining in public worship, which my husband and some of the party embraced, leaving us, the weaker part, at home to rest.