Departure from West Liberty Town to go among the Mountains in search of a Shrub supposed to give good Oil, a new Species of Azalea.—Ligonier Valley.—Coal Mines.—Greensburgh.—Arrival at Pittsburgh.
On my journey to Lancaster Mr. W. Hamilton had informed me that at a short distance from West Liberty Town, and near the plantation of Mr. Patrick Archibald, there grew a shrub, the fruit of which he had been told produced excellent oil. Several persons at New York and Philadelphia had heard the same, and entertained a hope that, cultivated largely, it might turn to general advantage. In fact, it would have been a treasure to find a shrub which, to the valuable qualities of the olive-tree, united that of enduring the cold of the most northern countries. Induced by these motives, I left my {48} travelling companion to go amongst the mountains in quest of the shrub. About two miles from West Liberty Town I passed by Probes’s Furnace, a foundry established by a Frenchman from Alsace, who manufactures all kinds of vessels in brass and copper; the largest contain about two hundred pints, which are sent into Kentucky and Tennessea, where they use them for the preparation of salt by evaporation; the smaller ones are destined for domestic uses. They directed me at the foundry which road I was to take, notwithstanding I frequently missed my way on account of the roads being more or less cut, which lead to different plantations scattered about the woods; still I met with the greatest civility from the inhabitants, who very obligingly put me in my road, and on the same evening I reached Patrick Archibald’s, where I was kindly received after having imparted the subject of my visit. One would think that this man, who has a mill and other valuables of his own, might live in the greatest comfort; yet he resides in a miserable log-house about twenty feet long, subject to the inclemency of the weather. Four large beds, two of which are very low, are placed underneath the others in the day-time, and drawn out of an evening {49} into the middle of the room, receive the whole family, composed of ten persons, and at times strangers, who casually entreat to have a bed. This mode of living, which would announce poverty in Europe, is by no means the sign of it with them; for in an extent of two thousand miles and upward that I have travelled, there is not a single family but has milk, butter, salted or dried meat, and Indian corn generally in the house; the poorest man has always one or more horses, and an inhabitant very rarely goes on foot to see his neighbour.
The day after my arrival I went into the woods, and in my first excursion I found the shrub which was at that moment the object of my researches. I knew it to be the same that my father had discovered fifteen years before in the mountains of South Carolina, and which, in despite of all the attention he bestowed, he could not bring to any perfection in his garden.[15] Mr. W. Hamilton, who had received a few seeds and plants of it from that part of Pensylvania where I then was, had not been more successful. The seeds grow so soon rancid, that in the course of a few days they lose their germinative faculty, and contract an uncommon sharpness. This shrub, which seldom rises above five feet in {50} height is diocal. It grows exclusively on the mountains, and is only found in cool and shady places, and where the soil is very fertile. Its roots, of a citron colour, do not divide, but extend horizontally to a great distance, and give birth to several shoots, which very seldom grow more than eighteen inches high. The roots and the bark rubbed together, produce an unpleasant smell. I commissioned my landlord to gather half a bushel of seed, and send it to Mr. William Hamilton, giving him the necessary precaution to keep it fresh.—On the banks of the creek where Mr. Archibald’s mill is erected, and along the rivulets in the environs, grows a species of the azalea, which was then in full blossom. It rises from twelve to fifteen feet. Its flowers, of a beautiful white, and larger than those of the other known species, exhale the most delicious perfume. The azalea coccinea, on the contrary, grows on the summit of the mountains, is of a nasturtium colour, and blows two months before.
Ligonier Valley is reckoned very fertile. Wheat, rye, and oats are among its chief productions. Some of the inhabitants plant Indian corn upon the summit of the mountains, but it does not succeed well, the country being too cold. The sun is not {51} seen there for three quarters of an hour after it has risen. They also cultivate hemp and flax, and each gathers a sufficient quantity of it to supply his domestic wants; and as all the women know how to spin and weave, they supply themselves and family, by this means, with linen. The price of land is from one to two piastres an acre. The taxes are very moderate, and no complaints are ever made against them. In this part of the United States, as well as in all mountainous countries, the air is very wholesome. I have seen men there upward of seventy-five years of age, which is very rare in the Atlantic states situated south of Pennsylvania. During my travels in this country the measles were very prevalent. At the invitation of my host I went to see several of his relatives and friends that were attacked with it. I found them all drinking whiskey, to excite perspiration. I advised them a decoction of the leaves of the viscous elm, with the addition of a spoonful of vinegar to a pint, and an ounce of sugar of maple. In consequence of the country being poor, and the population not very numerous, there are but few medical men there; and in cases of necessity they have to go twenty or thirty miles to fetch them.
{52} On the 4th of July I left Archibald’s, and posted on toward Greensburgh, which is about eleven miles from it. I had not gone far before I had to cross Chesnut Ridge, a very steep hill, the summit of which, for an extent of two miles, presents nothing but a dry and chalky soil, abounding with oaks and chesnut trees, stunted in their growth: but as I advanced toward Greensburgh the aspect of the country changes, the soil becomes better. The plantations, although surrounded with woods, are not so far apart as in the valley of Ligonier. The houses are much larger, and most of them have two rooms. The land better cultivated, the enclosures better formed, prove clearly it is a German settlement. With them every thing announces ease, the fruit of their assiduity to labour. They assist each other in their harvests, live happy among themselves, always speak German, and preserve, as much as possible, the customs of their ancestors, formerly from Europe. They live much better than the American descendants of the English, Scotch, and Irish. They are not so much addicted to spirituous liquors, and have not that wandering mind which often, for the slightest motive, prompts them to emigrate several {53} hundred miles, in hopes of finding a more fertile soil.
Prior to my arrival at Greensburgh[16] I had an opportunity of remarking several parts of the woods exclusively composed of white oaks, or quercus alba, the foliage of which being a lightish green, formed a beautiful contrast with other trees of a deeper colour. About a mile from the town, and on the borders of a tremendous cavity I perceived unequivocal signs of a coal mine. I learnt at Greensburgh and Pittsburgh that this substance was so common and so easy to procure, that many of the inhabitants burnt it from economical motives. Not that there is a scarcity of wood, the whole country being covered with it, but labour is very dear; so that there is not a proprietor who would not consent to sell a cord of wood for half the sum that coals would cost, provided a person would go a mile to fell the trees, and take them home.
Greensburgh contains about a hundred houses. The town is built upon the summit of a hill on the road from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. The soil of the environs is fertile; the inhabitants, who are of German origin, cultivate wheat, rye, and oats with great success. The flour is exported at Pittsburgh.
{54} I lodged at the Seven Stars with one Erbach, who keeps a good inn.[17] I there fell into company with a traveller who came from the state of Vermont, and through necessity we were obliged to sleep in one room. Without entering into any explanation relative to the intention of our journey, we communicated to each other our remarks upon the country that we had just travelled over. He had been upward of six hundred miles since his departure from his place of residence, and I had been four hundred since I left New York. He proposed accompanying me to Pittsburgh. I observed to him that I was on foot, and gave him my reasons for it, as it is very uncommon in America to travel in that manner, the poorest inhabitant possessing always one, and even several horses.
From Greensburgh to Pittsburgh it is computed to be about thirty-two miles. The road that leads to it is very mountainous. To avoid the heat, and to accelerate my journey, I set out at four in the morning. I had no trouble in getting out of the house, the door being only on the latch. At the inns in small towns, on the contrary, they are extremely careful in locking the stables, as horse-stealers are by no means uncommon in certain parts of the {55} United States; and this is one of the accidents to which travellers are the most exposed, more especially in the southern states and in the western countries, where they are sometimes obliged to sleep in the woods. It also frequently happens that they steal them from the inhabitants; at the same time nothing is more easy, as the horses are, in one part of the year, turned out in the forests, and in the spring they frequently stray many miles from home; but on the slightest probability of the road the thief has taken, the plundered inhabitant vigorously pursues him, and frequently succeeds in taking him; upon which he confines him in the county prison, or, which is not uncommon, kills him on the spot. In the different states the laws against horse-stealing are very severe, and this severity appears influenced by the great facility the country presents for committing the crime.
I had travelled about fifteen miles when I was overtaken by an American gentleman whom I had met the preceding evening at Greensburgh. Although he was on horseback, he had the politeness to slacken his pace, and I accompanied him to Pittsburgh. This second interview made us more intimately acquainted. He informed me that his intention {56} was to go by the side of the Ohio. Having the same design, I entertained a wish to travel with him, and more so, as he was not an amateur of whiskey; being compelled, by the heat of the weather, frequently to halt at the inns, which are tolerably numerous, I had observed that he drank very little of that liquor in water, and that he gave a preference to sour milk, whenever it could be procured.[18] In that respect he differed from the American officer with whom I had travelled almost all the way from Shippensburgh.
About ten miles from Greensburgh, on the left, is a road that cuts off more than three miles, but which is only passable for persons on foot or on horseback. We took it, and in the course of half an hour perceived the river Monongahela, which we coasted till within a short distance of Pittsburgh. A tremendous shower obliged us to take shelter in a house about a hundred fathoms from the river. The owner having recognized us to be strangers, informed us that it was on that very spot that the French, in the seven years’ war, had completely defeated General Braddock; and he also showed us several trees that are still damaged by the balls.[19]
We reached Pittsburgh at a very early hour, when {57} I took up my residence with a Frenchman named Marie, who keeps a respectable inn. What pleased me most was my having accomplished my journey, as I began to be fatigued with travelling over so mountainous a country; for during an extent of about a hundred and eighty miles, which I had travelled almost entirely on foot, I do not think I walked fifty fathoms without either ascending or descending.