VIII.
A SUMMER AT BATH.
1791.
Captain Bayard, of the Artillery—From Baltimore to Bath—Bath described—Tea at Bath—Irish Comedians—Valley Lands—Winchester—Colonel P.—The Sabbath in America—Land Merchants.
IN the year VI (1798) there was published at Paris a book written by a retired captain of artillery, Ferdinand Marie Bayard, described on the title page, “A Journey Into the Interior of the United States, to Bath, Winchester, the Shenandoah Valley, etc., etc., During the Summer of 1791.” It is strange that this book has not been translated. It is interesting as a sort of sentimental journey of a very intelligent man (member of the Society of Sciences Letters and Arts at Paris), who visited a spot not often mentioned by the early traveler in this country. Captain Bayard was born at Moulins la Marche in 1768, and was living in 1836. He was in his twenty-third year the summer of 1791. He had already retired from the army and become a traveler in various parts of the world.
Captain Bayard seems to have landed at Baltimore, with his wife and small boy. He remarks, “The months of June, July and August are bad for children if kept in town in this country. Bath, situated 120 miles from Baltimore, and near the Valley of the Shenandoah, offered a stopping place in the country and a point of departure from which to visit that fertile region, where, beneath skies almost always serene, the inhabitants cultivate a generous soil, which rewards liberally the slightest efforts of human industry. I wished to see this promised land, from the bosom of which an innumerable population is beginning to arise, prosperous and content, and already passing the limits of the Valley to occupy the vast spaces beyond. Besides, before returning home, I desired to gain a knowledge of the American people, and this I could better compass in the country than in the towns. For the trip I hired a carriage at Baltimore, at 41 francs the passenger, baggage included. The owner was the driver, and a very skilful one, as we learned on the road, which is often abominable and extremely dangerous.
“Four miles south of the Potomac [by way of Ellicott’s Lower Mill, Ellicott’s Upper Mill, the Red House, the Monocacy River, Fredericktown, and Middletown] we arrived at Bath, in Virginia. The town is situated in a triangular and very narrow gorge. The mountain to the west is high and steep, and in the month of March snow and earth become loosened from the declivity and descend in avalanches. The houses built next to this dangerous mountain are protected by heavy palisades. Several people, having neglected the precaution, have had their houses engulfed. The residents boast of the climate—the winter not too cold, and the heat of summer moderate. Bath has two public buildings—the theatre and the bathhouse. The first is a log edifice, and the second a framed barrack, partitioned into eight cells, in each of which there are steps arranged for the convenience of the bathers. The spring is hard by. The water is dispensed in a goblet by the man in charge. The water is clear, lukewarm, and insipid, but very efficacious.
“I have seen many come to Bath fearfully rheumatic, who had to be carried to the spring at first, and in three weeks were able to walk with a crutch. Bath was formerly called Warm Springs. The name was changed in deference to the English resort. This imitative mania is a bad symptom, and augurs ill for that nation, whose name is dear to lovers of liberty everywhere. At Bath the young women ride about a great deal, and are excellent horsewomen. It is to be remarked that their physiognomy is distinct among American women. During the fall, boats come up the river from Alexandria and Georgetown, and return laden with grain. After that season there is no more traffic by water until the spring, and if any one has neglected to provide himself he must make a trip to Winchester for supplies, thirty-nine miles off. The inhabitants of this region are very fond of the English boxing match. Generally a bruiser (breaker of bones) is in charge of these combats, who sees to the strict carrying out of all the regulations.
“At our boarding house (excellent fare) there were about forty people, among them two Virginians—Madame B. and Madame A.—who spoke French tolerably well. Madame B. had read the works of Swedenborg, and entertained us with descriptions drawn from those mystical books. There were several very pious people at our boarding house, one of whom had a theory that eating was not to satisfy the appetite. I noticed that he ate a great deal. At Bath it is the custom to drink tea at 5 o’clock. Everything is very ceremonious. At the right of the lady dispensing tea are ranged in a half circle all the other ladies. A profound silence follows the entrance of each invited guest; all the ladies as grave as judges on the bench. A small acajou table is placed before the dispenser of tea. Silver pots contain the coffee and the hot water, which serves to weaken the tea or to receive the cups. A domestic brings on a silver waiter the cup, the sugar dish, the cream pot, the butter balls, the thin slices of ham. A Frenchman is embarrassed at the necessity of watching his cup and saucer in one hand, and with the other receiving a tart or a slice of very thin ham.
“In sending back the cup the spoon must be placed in a manner to indicate whether you will begin again, or have finished drinking. A Frenchman on one occasion, unfamiliar with English and ignorant of this polite sign language, was overcome at seeing the sixteenth cup arrive, which, having emptied, he hit upon the device of stowing it in his pocket, dreading a seventeenth. The tea dispensed and consumed, there are songs. Mademoiselle L. was the accomplished artist at Bath. Her favorite song was one of a certain Patrick, who, absent, was still to be remembered.