The first object of an industrious emigrant, who means to settle in Philadelphia, is to purchase a lot of ground in one of the vacant streets.
He erects a small building forty or fifty feet from the line laid out for him by the city surveyor, and lives there till he can afford to build a house; when his former habitation serves him for a kitchen and wash-house.
I have observed buildings in this state in the heart of the city; but they are more common in the outskirts. Our friend Wright is exactly in this situation; but I am afraid it will be many years before he will be able to build in _front_.
The buildings in this city are about two thirds of brick, and the rest of wood. The foundations of the former are in general of a species of marble; the bricks are uncommonly well manufactured; and these buildings are more firmly constructed than in Europe. Those of wood are the reverse, which you will easily credit, when I inform you, that when a house of this description is offered for sale, it is by no means understood, as in England, that the _land_ on which it stands is included in the purchase.
They have a method of removing these buildings _entire_. A house _travelling_ in this manner through the streets of the city is to a European a truly grotesque and extraordinary sight.
During the time the British troops had possession of this city in the last war, they were much distressed for fuel, and obliged to cut down all the wood they could meet with; upwards of a thousand acres of peach and apple orchard were destroyed, belonging to one family. This destruction of the trees has materially hurt the prospects for three or four miles on the Pensylvania side; the opposite Jersey sh.o.r.e (except the plantations) is one entire forest.
Philadelphia is at present supplied with water from pumps, placed in different parts of the city; but a company of adventurers are bringing water from above the falls of Scuylkill, in the manner of the New River in London: but mean to improve on sir Hugh Middleton"s plan, by making their aqueduct also serve the purposes of inland navigation.
The inhabitants are in general very fond of theatrical representations; their new theatre is an elegant building, from a design the subscribers obtained from London, where the princ.i.p.al scenes were painted by Richardson and Rooker. The receipts of the house have exceeded one thousand six hundred dollars.
The fair Philadelphians are by no means so fond of walking, as the English ladies; not that they have any _great dislike_ to a _trip_ into the _country_, but it is not fashionable even for a maid servant to make use of her _legs_ on these occasions; the consequence is, that there are 806 two and four wheeled machines entered at the office, and pay duty, as _pleasure carriages_, most of which are for hire; and yet the inhabitants do not exceed 50000, of whom there are not three individuals but follow some profession, trade, or employment. In a few days I shall have an opportunity of sending you a publication, which will give you a more ample account of this city than you now receive from
Yours, &c.
Since writing this letter, the seat of government of the state has been removed to Lancaster, as being nearer the centre; for the same reason, that of the general government of the United States, will, in the year 1800, be removed to the federal city, now building in the district of Columbia.
Several _uniform_ and elegant rows of houses have _lately_ been built.
_Philadelphia, March 7th, 1794._
DEAR SIR,
It is a general observation with respect to the English, that they eat more animal food than the people of any other nation. The following statement of the manner of living of the Americans[Footnote: By the term _American_ you must understand a white man descended from a native of the Old Continent; and by the term _Indian_, or _Savage_, one of the aborigines of the New World.] will convince you of the falsity of this opinion.
About eight or nine in the morning they breakfast on tea and coffee, attended always with what they call _relishes_, such as salt fish, beef-steaks, sausages, broiled-fowls, ham, bacon, &c. At two they dine on what is usual in England, with a variety of american dishes, such as bear, opossum, rac.o.o.n, &c. At six or seven in the evening they have their supper, which is exactly the same as their breakfast, with the addition of what cold meat is left at dinner. I have often wondered how they acquired this method of living, which is by no means calculated for the climate; such stimulating food at breakfast and supper naturally causes thirst, and there being no other beverage at these meals than tea, or coffee, they are apt to drink too freely of them, particularly the female part of the family; which, during the excessive heats in summer, is relaxing and debilitating; and in winter, by opening the pores, exposes them to colds of the most dangerous kind.
The manner of living I have been describing is that of people in moderate circ.u.mstances; but this taste for _relishes_ with coffee and tea extends to all ranks of people in these states. Soon after my arrival at this city, I went on a party of pleasure to a sort of tea-garden and _tavern_[Footnote: By the word _tavern,_ in America, is meant an inn or public house of any description.], romantically situate on the bank of the Scuylkill. At six in the evening we ordered coffee, which I was informed they were here famous for serving _in style_. I took a memorandum of what was on the table; viz. _coffee, cheese, sweet cakes, hung beef, sugar, pickled salmon, b.u.t.ter, crackers, ham, cream_, and _bread_. The ladies all declared, it was a most _charming relish_!
Yours sincerely, &c.
_Philadelphia, March 12th, 1794._
Dear Friend,
The price of labour in this country is very great, owing to the prospect an industrious man has of procuring an independance by cultivating a tract of the waste lands; many millions of acres of which are how on sale by government; to say nothing of those held by individuals. The money arising from the sale of the former is appropriated to the discharge of the national debt.
During my residence in Jersey, I was at no little pains to inform myself of the difficulties attending a back settler. We will suppose a person making such an attempt to possess one hundred pounds, though many have been successful with a much less sum: his first care is to purchase about three hundred acres of land, which, if it is in a remote western settlement, he will procure for about nineteen pounds sterling: he may know the quality of the land by the trees, with which it is entirely covered. The hickory and the walnut are an infallible sign of a rich, and every species of fir, of a barren, sandy, and unprofitable soil. When his land is properly registered, his next care is to provide himself with a horse, a plough, and other implements of agriculture; a rifle, a fowling piece, some ammunition, and a large dog of the blood-hound breed, to hunt deer. We will suppose him arrived at the place of his destination in spring, as soon as the ground is clear of frost. No sooner is the arrival of a new settler circulated, than, for many miles round, his neighbours flock to him: they all a.s.sist in erecting his hut; this is done with logs; a bricklayer is only wanting to make his chimney and oven. He then clears a few acres by cutting down the large trees about four feet from the _ground_[Footnote: These stumps are many years rotting, and, when completely rotted, afford an excellent manure.], grubs up the underwood, splits some of the large timber for railing fences, and sets fire to the rest upon the spot; ploughs round the stumps of the large timber, and in May plants maize, or indian corn. In October he has a harvest of eight hundred or a thousand fold. This is every thing to him and his family.
Indian corn, ground and made into cakes, answers the end of bread, and when boiled with meat, and a small proportion of a sort of kidney-bean (which it is usual to sow with this grain), it makes an excellent dish, which they call _hominy_. They also coa.r.s.ely pound the indian corn, and boil it for five hours; this is by the Indians called _mush_; and, when a proportion of milk is added, forms their breakfast. Indian corn is also the best food for horses employed in agriculture in this climate: black cattle, deer, and hogs are very fond of it, and fatten better than on any other grain. It is also excellent food for turkies, and other poultry.
When this harvest is in, he provides himself with a cow, and a few sheep and hogs; the latter run wild in the woods. But for a few years he depends chiefly on his _rifle_, and _faithful dog_; with these he provides his family with deer, bear, rac.o.o.n, &c.; but what he values most are the black, and gray squirrels; these animals are large and numerous, are excellent roasted, and make a soup exceedingly rich and nourishing.
He gradually clears his land, a few acres every year, and begins to plant wheat, tobacco, &c. These, together with what hogs, and other increase of his stock he can spare, as also the skins of deer, bear, and other animals he shoots in the woods, he exchanges with the nearest storekeeper, for clothing, sugar, coffee, &c.
In this state he suffers much for want of the comforts and even _necessaries_ of life. Suppose him afflicted with a flux or fever, attacked by a panther, bitten by a rattle-snake, or any other of the dreadful circ.u.mstances peculiar to his situation: but, above all, suppose a war to break out between the Indians, and him, and his whole family scalped, and their plantations burnt!
The following extract from an American work very feelingly describes him under these cruel apprehensions:--
EXTRACT.
"You know the position of our settlement; therefore I need not describe it. To the west it is enclosed by a chain of mountains, reaching to----.
To the east, the country is yet but very thinly inhabited. We are almost insulated, and the houses are at a considerable distance from each other.
From the mountains we have but too much reason to expect our dreadful enemy, the Indians; and the wilderness is a harbour, where it is impossible to find them. It is a door through which they can enter our country at any time; and as they seem determined to destroy the whole frontier, our fate cannot be far distant. From lake Champlain almost all has been conflagrated, one after another. What renders these incursions still more dreadful is, that they most commonly take place in the dead of the night. We never go to our fields, but we are seized with an involuntary fear, which lessens our strength, and weakens our labour. No other subject of discourse intervenes between the different accounts, which spread through the country, of successive acts of devastation; and these, told in chimney corners, swell themselves in our affrighted imaginations into the most terrific ideas. We never sit down, either to dinner, or supper, but the least noise spreads a general alarm, and prevents us from enjoying the comforts of our meals. The very appet.i.te proceeding from labour and peace of mind is gone! Our sleep is disturbed by the most frightful dreams! Sometimes I start awake, as if the great hour of danger was come; at other times the howling of our dogs seems to announce the arrival of the enemy: we leap out of bed, and run to arms; my poor wife, with panting bosom, and silent tears, takes leave of me, as if we were to see each other no more. She s.n.a.t.c.hes the youngest children from their beds, who, suddenly awakened, increase by their innocent questions the horrour of the dreadful moment! She tries to hide them in the cellar, as if our cellar was inaccessible to the fire! I place all my servants at the window, and myself at the door, where I am determined to perish. Fear industriously increases every sound; we all listen; each communicates to each other his fears and conjectures. We remain thus, sometimes for whole hours, our hearts and our minds racked by the most anxious suspense! What a dreadful situation! A thousand times worse than that of a soldier engaged in the midst of a most severe conflict! Sometimes feeling the spontaneous courage of a man, I seem to wish for the decisive minute; the next instant a message from my wife, sent by one of the children, quite unmans me. Away goes my courage, and I descend again into the deepest despondency: at last, finding it was a false alarm, we return once more to our beds; but what good can the sleep of nature do us, when interrupted with _such_ scenes?"
But we will suppose our planter to have escaped the scalping knife and tomahawk; and in the course of years situate in a thick, settled neighbourhood of planters like himself, who have struggled through all the foregoing difficulties: he is now a man of some consequence, builds a house by the side of his former hut, which now serves him for a kitchen; and as he is comfortably situate, we will leave him to the enjoyment of the fruits of his industry.
Such a being has often ideas of liberty, and a contempt of va.s.salage and slavery, which do honour to human nature.
The planter I have endeavoured to describe, I have supposed to be sober and industrious: but when a man of an opposite description makes such an attempt, he often degenerates into a demisavage; he cultivates no more land than will barely supply the family with bread, or rather makes his wife, and children perform that office. His whole employment is to procure skins, and furs, to exchange for rum, brandy, and ammunition; for this purpose he is often for several days together in the woods, without seeing a human being. He is by no means at a loss; his rifle supplies him with food, and at night he cuts down some boughs with his tomahawk, and constructs a _wigwam_[Footnote: The Indian name for their huts so constructed.], in which he spends the night, stretched on the skins of those animals he has killed in the course of his excursion. This manner of living he learned from his savage neighbours, the Indians, and like them calls every other state of life _slavery_. It sometimes happens, that an unsuccessful back settler joins the Indians at war with the states.
When this is the case, it is observed he is, if possible, more cruel than his new allies; he eagerly imbibes all the vices of the savages, without a single spark of their virtues. Farewell,
Yours &c.
_Philadelphia, March 18th, 1794_.
Dear Friend,
My present intention is to give you some conception of the family of a planter, whose ancestors had in some degree gone through all the difficulties I described in my last.
We will suppose them descended from the original english emigrants, who came over with Penn; like them, to possess a high sense of religion; and that this family are now in the quiet possession of about three hundred acres of land, their own _property_[Footnote: There are very few _farms_ properly so called in the United States.], situate in Pennsylvania, about seventy or eighty miles from Philadelphia. Whatever difficulties they, or their ancestors, struggled formerly with, are now over; their lands are cleared, and in the bosom of a fine country, with a sure market for every article of produce they can possibly raise, and entirely out of the reach of the most desperate predatory excursions of the savages.
They enjoy a happy state of mediocrity[Footnote: The quakers in particular. I have seen at a meeting in West Jersey, in a very small town, upwards of two hundred carriages, one horse chairs, and light waggons, which are machines peculiar to this country, and well adapted to the sandy soil of the state of New Jersey; they are covered like a caravan, and will hold eight persons; the benches are removable at pleasure, and they are also used to convey the produce of the country to market.], between riches and poverty, perhaps the most enviable of all situations. When the boys of this family are numerous, those the father cannot provide for at home, and who prefer a planter"s life to a trade, or profession, are, when married, presented with two or three hundred acres of uncultivated land, which their parents purchase for them as near home as possible. The young couple are supplied with stock, and supported till they have a sufficient quant.i.ty of land cleared to provide for themselves.
If unsuccessful through want of industry, &c., they often sell off, and emigrate to Kentucky, or some other new country seven or eight hundred miles to the S.W., and begin the world again as back settlers.
The daughters are brought up in habits of virtue and industry; the strict notions of female delicacy, instilled into their minds from their earliest infancy, never entirely forsake them. Even when one of these girls is decoyed from the peaceful dwelling of her parents, and left by her infamous seducer a prey to poverty and prost.i.tution in a _brothel_ at Philadelphia, her whole appearance is neat, and breathes an air of modesty: you see nothing in her dress, language, or behaviour, that could give you any reason to guess at her unfortunate situation; (how unlike her unhappy sisters so circ.u.mstanced in England!) she by no means gives over the idea of a husband, she is seldom disappointed: and, I am informed, often makes an excellent wife.
The chief amus.e.m.e.nt of the country girls in winter is sleighing, of which they are pa.s.sionately fond, as indeed are the whole s.e.x in this country. I never heard a woman speak of this diversion but with rapture. You have doubtless read a description of a _sleigh_, or sledge, as it is common in all northern countries, and can only be used on the snow. In British America this amus.e.m.e.nt may be followed nearly all the winter; but so far to the south as Pennsylvania, the snow seldom lies on the ground more than seven or eight days together. The consequence is, that every moment that will admit of sleighing is seized on with avidity. The tavern and inn-keepers are up all night; and the whole country is in motion. When the snow begins to fall, our planter"s daughters provide hot sand, which at night they place in bags at the bottom of the sleigh. Their sweethearts attend with a couple of horses, and away they glide with astonishing velocity; visiting their friends for many miles round the country. But in large towns, in order to have a sleighing frolic in _style_, it is necessary to provide a _fiddler_ who is placed at the head of the sleigh, and plays all the way. At every inn they meet with on the road, the company alight and have a dance. But I perceive I am _dancing_ from my subject, which I suppose you are by this time heartily tired of; I shall therefore conclude, by a.s.suring you,
I am
Yours sincerely, &c.
"There be also store of frogs, which in the spring time will chirp, and whistle like birds: there be also toads, that will creep to the top of trees, and sit there croaking, to the wonderment of strangers!"
"To a stranger walking for the first time in these woods during the summer, this appears the land of enchantment: he hears a thousand noises, without being able to discern from whence or from what animal they proceed, but which are, in fact, the discordant notes of five different species of frogs!"