Category: Travelers in the United States

The Trade in Indentured Servants

In the early years of the United States there was a brisk trade in European indentured servants, except in New England, where the trade was outlawed. These servants were slaves for a term: they could be bought and sold, and they had no right to leave a master, no matter how cruel their treatment. Of course there were two great differences from African slavery: first, that the term of service was limited, and children born to indentured servants were not servants themselves; second, that a European appearance made it much easier to take one’s place in society once the term of service was over—and, we suppose, much easier to escape service.

This description is written by William Priest, an English musician who had worked in the theaters at Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Boston. Some of what he reports is second-hand, but much is first-hand knowledge, and he carefully distinguishes the two.

Philadelphia, September 15th, 1796.

Dear sir,

I write this in my way to Boston, where I am going to fulfil my engagement with W—, the particulars of which I informed you of in a former letter.

When I arrived at Newcastle, I had the mortification to find upwards of one hundred irish passengers on board the packet.

For some time before I left Baltimore, our papers were full of a shocking transaction, which took place on board an irish passenger ship, containing upwards of three hundred. It is said, that, owing to the cruel usage they received from the captain, such as being put on a very scanty allowance of water1 and provision, a contagious disorder broke out on board, which carried off great numbers; and, to add to their distress, when they arrived in the Delaware, they were obliged to perform quarantine, which, for some days, was equally fatal.

The disorder was finally got under by the physicians belonging to the Health Office. We had several of the survivors on board, who confirmed all I had heard: indeed their emaciated appearance was a sufficient testimony of what they had suffered. They assured me, the captain sold the ship’s water by the pint; and informed me of a number of shocking circumstances, which I will not wound your feelings by relating.

It is difficult to conceive how a multitude of witnesses can militate against a fact; but more so, how three hundred passengers could tamely submit to such cruelties, from a bashaw of a captain.

I am happy to inform you the Philadelphia Hibernian Society are determined to prosecute this flesh butcher for murder. As the manner of carrying on this trade in human flesh is not generally known in England, I send you a few particulars of what is here emphatically called a white Guinea man. There are vessels in the trade of Belfast, Londonderry, Amsterdam, Hamburgh, &c. , whose chief cargoes, on their return to America, are passengers; great numbers of whom, on their arrival, are sold for a term of years to pay their passage; during their servitude, they are liable to be resold, at the death or caprice of their masters. Such advertisements as the following, are frequent:—

“To be disposed of, the Indentures of a strong, healthy, irish woman; who has two years to serve, and is fit for all kind of house work.—Enquire of the printer.”

“Stop the villain!

“Ran away this morning, an irish servant, named Michael Day, by trade a tailor, about five feet eight inches high, fair complexion, has a down look when spoken to, light bushy hair, speaks much in the Irish dialect, &c.:—Whoever secures the above described, in any gaol, shall receive thirty dollars reward, and all reasonable charges paid.—N.B. All masters of vessels are forbid harbouring, or carrying off the said servant at their peril.”

The laws respecting the redemptioners2 are very severe; they were formed for the english convicts before the revolution. There are lately hibernian, and german societies, who do all in their power, to mitigate the severity of these laws, and render their countrymen, during their servitude, as comfortable as possible. These societies are in all the large towns south of Connecticut. In New England they are not wanting, as the trade is there prohibited. The difficulty of hiring a tolerable servant induces many to deal in this way. Our friend S——lately bought an irish girl for three years, and in a few days discovered he was likely to have a greater increase of his family than he bargained for; we had the laugh sadly against him on this occasion: I sincerely believe the jew regrets his new purchase is not a few shades darker. If he could prove her a woman of colour, and produce a bill of sale, he would make a slave of the child as well as the mother! The emigration from Ireland has been this year very great; I left a large vessel3 full of passengers from thence at Baltimore: I found three at Newcastle: and there is one in this city. The number of passengers cannot be averaged at less than two hundred and fifty to each vessel, all of whom have arrived within the last six weeks!

While the yellow fever was raging in this city, in the year 1793, when few vessels would venture nearer than Fort Miflin, a german captain in this trade arrived in the river, and hearing that such was the fatal nature of the infection, that a sufficient number of nurses could not be procured to attend the sick for any sum, conceived the philanthropic idea of supplying this deficiency from his redemption passengers! Actuated by this humane motive, he sailed boldly up to the city, and advertised4 his cargo for sale:—

“A few healthy servants, generally between seventeen and twenty-one years of age; their times will be disposed of, by applying on board the brig.”

Generous soul! thus nobly to sacrifice his own countrymen, pro bono publico. I never heard this honest german was properly rewarded; but virtue is it’s own reward, and there is no doubt but the consciousness of having performed such an action is quite sufficient; at least, it would be to

Yours, &c.

——Travels in the United States of America, Commencing in the Year 1793, and Ending in 1797. By William Priest. London: Printed for J. Johnson, 1802

  1. By a law of the United States, the quantity of water and provision every vessel is obliged to take (in proportion to the length of the passage and persons on board) is clearly defined. A master of a vessel violating this law forfeits five hundred dollars. ↩
  2. The name given to these persons. ↩
  3. These vessels frequently belong to Philadelphia, but land their passengers here, as there is a direct road to the back parts of Pennsylvania. ↩
  4. I have preserved this advertisement, and several others equally curious. ↩

From Pittsburgh to Harmony in the Early 1800s

John Melish, a traveler in the United States, wrote a detailed and enthusiastic description of the Harmonist settlement at Harmony in Pennsylvania. It is certainly worth reading. What interests us here, however, is the trip to Harmony from Pittsburgh. Today it would be a short drive out into the suburbs. In the early 1800s, it was an all-day ordeal, made possible only by stopping for beer or whiskey at least three times. The route taken by our travelers is probably close to the route of the Perry Highway (U.S. 19) today.

I shall now introduce by name a fellow-traveller, Dr. Isaac Cleaver, of Philadelphia. This gentleman travelled in the stage with me from Bedford; we lodged together at Pittsburg, and we now agreed to travel together to visit the Harmonist Society. With this view we procured a couple of hacks, very sorry ones indeed, and set out from Pittsburg on Monday the 19th August, at six o’clock in the morning. We crossed the Allegany by a boat: it is here about 400 yards broad, and the deepest part of it seven feet; the current is gentle, and the water remarkably pure. On the opposite side of the river there is a narrow bottom of very rich land; after passing which, we ascended pretty steep hills, and by a rough road reached a tavern eight miles from the river. The day was now very hot; but we could only stop a few minutes, and moved on six miles to Dixon’s tavern, where we found the landlord completely drunk. The day continuing uncommonly hot, we rested here about half an hour; and after travelling about a mile, we reached the Plains, so called from being a sort of meadow and destitute of trees. Here we were entirely without shade, and the force of the sun nearly overpowered us. I never recollect to have suffered so much from the heat; and we got no relief till after travelling four miles, when we reached another tavern at the further end of the Plains, where we found a sober industrious family busily employed in domestic manufactures. The whole country from Pittsburg to this place is rather rough and uncultivated; and land sells at from two to three dollars per acre. Beyond this as we continued our journey we found the country to improve; and approaching the precincts of the Harmonist Society, we passed some of their well-cultivated farms. Here the road passes over a considerable hill; and on reaching the top we saw at a little distance the town of Harmony, elegantly situated amid flourishing and well-cultivated fields. We reached the town at three o’clock, and proceeded to the tavern, an excellent stone building, where we found good accommodations.

——John Melish, “Account of a Society at Harmony, (Twenty-five miles from Pittsburg) Pennsylvania, United States of America.” Taken from Travels in the United States of America, in the Years 1806 and 1807, 1809, 1810, and 1811. From The Philanthropist, No. XX.

A Trip on the National Road in 1832

An English traveler named Thomas Hamilton came to America in about 1832 and, like every other English traveler of the era, proceeded to write a book about his experiences. Much of what he saw was delight­ful. The National Road, however, was not. This was our first national highway, and its route, with many of the original mile­stones, can still be followed on U. S. Route 40 and Maryland Route 144; but these roads are in much better shape now than the National Road was when our English traveler traversed it in several days of lurching discomfort. Note that our traveler, whose description will still be familiar to anyone who travels this road almost two centuries later, seems to have mixed up Washington (Pennsylvania) and Uniontown; Uniontown was doubtless his last stop before Brownsville.

From Washington I returned to Baltimore, where I ex­peri­enced a renewal of that kindness and hospi­tality, to which, on my former visit, I had been so largely indebted. As the best mode of proceeding to the South, I had been recom­mended to cross from Baltimore to Wheeling, on the Ohio, and there to take steam for New Orleans, as soon as the navi­gation of the river should be reported open. For this intelligence, however, it was necessary to wait in Baltimore, and certainly a more agreeable place of confine­ment could not have been selected.

Fortune favoured me. In a few days the news­papers an­nounced that the ice had broken up, and the Ohio was again navigable. Having had the good fortune to en­counter one of my English fellow-passengers by the New York, like­wise bound for New Orleans, we agreed to travel together, and, on the morning of the 6th of March, before daylight, stepped into the rail-way carriage which was to convey us ten miles on our journey.

The vehicle was of a description somewhat novel. It was, in fact, a wooden house or chamber, somewhat like those used by itinerant showmen in England, and was drawn by a horse at the rate of about four miles an hour. Our progress, therefore, was not rapid, and we were nearly three hours in reaching a place called Ellicot Mills, where we found a wretched break­fast awaiting our arrival.

Having done honour to the meal in a measure rather propor­tioned to our appetites than to the quality of the viands, we embarked in what was called the “Accommo­dation Stage,” so designated, probably, from the absence of every accommo­dation which travellers usually expect in such a vehicle. The country through which we passed was partially covered with snow. The appearance both of the dwelling-houses and the inhab­itants gave indication of poverty, which was confirmed by the rough and stony aspect of the soil wherever it was visible. The coach stopped to dinner at a con­siderable village called Fredericks­town, where the appearance of the enter­tainment was so forbidding, that I found it impossible to eat. My appetite, therefore, was somewhat over­weening when we reached Hagerstown, a place of some magnitude, where we halted for the night, having accomplished a distance of eighty miles.

At three o’clock on the following morning we again started on our journey. The roads were much worse than we had found them on the preceding day, the country was buried deeper in snow, and our progress was in conse­quence slower. The appearance of poverty seemed to increase as we advanced. Here and there a ragged negro slave was seen at work near the wretched log hovel of his master; and the number of deserted dwellings which skirted the road, and of fields suffered to relapse into a state of nature, showed that their former occupants had gone forth in search of a more grateful soil. We breakfasted at Clearspring, a trifling village, and then commenced mounting the eastern ridge of the Alleghanies, called Sideling Mountain. To one who has trodden the passes of the Alps and the Appenines, the Alleghany Mountains present nothing very striking. Indeed, the general character of American mountains is by no means picturesque. They are round and corpulent pro­tuberances, and rarely rise into forms of wild and savage grandeur. But some of the scenes presented by the Alleghanies are very fine. Nature, when undisturbed by man, is never without a beauty of her own. But even in these remote mountain recesses, the marks of wanton havoc are too often visible. Numbers of the trees by the road were scorched and mutilated, with no intelligible object but that of destruc­tion. Objects the most sublime or beauti­ful have no sanctity in the eyes of an American. He is not content with the full power of enjoyment, he must exert the privilege to deface. Our day’s journey terminated at Flints­town, a solitary inn, near which is a mineral spring, whereof the passen­gers drank each about a gallon, without experi­encing, as they unanimously declared, effect of any sort. I own I did not regret the inefficiency of the waters.

With the morning of the third day our difficulties commenced. We now approached the loftier ridges of the Alleghanies; the roads became worse, and our progress slower. The scenery was similar in character to that we had already passed. The mountains, from base to summit, were covered with wood, interspersed with great quantities of kalmias, rhodo­dendrons, and other flowering shrubs.

On the day following, our route lay over a ridge called the Savage Mountain. The snow lay deeper every mile of our advance, and at length, on reaching a miserable inn, the landlord informed us, that no carriage, on wheels, had been able to traverse the mountain for six weeks. On inquiring for a sleigh, it then appeared that none was to be had, and the natives all assured us that proceeding, with our present carriage, was impossible. The landlord dilated on the depth of snow, the dangers of the mountain, the darkness of the nights, and strongly urged our taking advantage of his hospitality till the following day. But the passengers were all anxious to push forward, and, as one of them happened to be a proprietor of the coach, the driver very un­willingly determined on making the attempt. We ac­cordingly set forth, but had not gone above a mile, when the coach stuck fast in a snow-drift, which actually buried the horses. In this predica­ment, the whole men and horses of the little village were summoned to our assis­tance, and, after about two hours’ delay, the vehicle was again set free.

We reached the next stage in the hollow of the mountain, without farther accident, and the report as to the state of the roads yet to be travelled, was very unpromising. The majority of the passengers, however, having fortified their courage with copious infusions of brandy, determined not to be delayed by peril of any sort. On we went, therefore; the night was pitchy dark; heavy rain came on, and the wind howled loudly amid the bare and bony arms of the surrounding forest. The road lay along a succes­sion of precipitous descents, down which, by a single blunder of the driver, who was quite drunk, we might at any moment be precipitated. Dangerous as, under these circum­stances, our progress unques­tionably was, the journey was accom­plished in safety; and halting for the night at a petty village, situated between the ridge we had crossed, and another which yet remained to be surmounted, the passengers exchanged congratu­lations on the good fortune which had hitherto attended them.

Before sunrise we were again on the road, and commenced the ascent of Laurel Mountain, which occupied several hours. The view from the summit was fine and extensive, though, perhaps, deficient in variety. We had now sur­mounted the last ridge of the Alleghanies, and calculated on making the rest of our way in compara­tive ease and comfort. This was a mistake. Though we found little snow to the westward of the mountains, the road was most execrable, and the jolting exceeded any thing I had yet experienced. The day’s journev terminated at Washington, a town of con­siderable popula­tion, with a tavern somewhat more comfortable than the wretched and dirty dogholes to which, for some days, we had been condemned.

During our last day’s journey we passed through a richer country, but experi­enced no improvement in the road, which is what is called a national one, or, in other words, constructed at the expense of the general government. If intended by Congress to act as an instrument of punishment on their sovereign constituents, it is, no doubt, very happily adapted for the purpose. In its forma­tion all the ordinary prin­ciples of road-making are reversed; and that grateful travellers may be instructed to whom they are indebted for their frac­tures and contusions, a column has been erected to Mr. Clay, on which his claims to the honours of artifex maximus, are duly emblazoned.

The tedium of the journey, however, was enlivened by the presence of a very pretty and communi­cative young lady, returning from a visit in the neigh­bourhood, to Alexandria, the place of her residence. From her I gathered every information with regard to the state of polite society in these tramontane regions. This fair damsel evidently made conquest of a Virginian doctor, who had been our fellow-traveller for several days, and was peculiarly disgusting from an inordinate addiction to the vernacular vices of dram-drinking and tobacco-chewing. Being generally drunk, he spat right and left in the coach, and especially after dark, discharged volleys of saliva, utterly reckless of conse­quences. One night I was wakened from a sound sleep by the outcries of a Quaker, into whose eye he had squirted a whole mouthful of tobacco juice. The pain caused by this offensive appli­cation to so delicate an organ was very great. Broad­brim forgot for the nonce all the equanimity of his cloth; cursed the doctor for a drunken vagabond; and, on reaching our resting-place for the night, I certainly observed that his eye had suffered con­siderable damage. For myself, being a tolerably old traveller, I no sooner discovered the doctor’s propensity, than I contrived to gain possession of the seat immediately behind him, and thus for­tunately escaped all annoyance, except that arising from the filthiness of his person, and the brutality of his conversation. About mid-day we reached Browns­ville, a manu­facturing town of considerable size, situated on the Monon­gahela, which, by its junction with the Alleghany, near Pittsburg, forms the Ohio. The appearance of Browns­ville is black and disgusting; its streets are dirty, and unpaved; and the houses present none of the externals of opulence. The river is a fine one, about the size of the Thames, at West­minster; and having crossed it, our route lay for some miles through a pretty and undulating country. At night we reached Wheeling, after a day’s journey of only thirty miles, accomplished with more diffi­culty and incon­venience than we had before experienced.

Men and Manners in America, by the author of Cyril Thornton, etc. [Thomas Hamilton], 1833.

Slaves Escaping Up the Hudson

In 1841, an English abolitionist named Joseph Sturge came to the United States to report on the state of slavery there. On his way up the Hudson to Albany, he met a couple who were escaping from slavery in the South. Striking up a conversation with them, he found out how they did it.

On the evening of the 17th, in company with several of my abolition friends, I started for Albany, where the State legis­lature was then in session. The distance from New York is about a hundred and fifty-five miles, and is fre­quently per­formed by the steamers, on the noble river Hudson, in nine hours and a half up the stream, and in eight hours down. On these steamers there is accom­mo­dation for several hundred passen­gers to lodge, and the fare is only one dollar, with an extra charge for beds and meals. For an additional dollar, two per­sons may secure a state room to themselves.

As night drew on, and the deck began to be cleared, I observed a well-dressed black man and woman sitting apart, and sup­posing they could obtain no berths on ac­count of their color, I went and spoke to them. I told them I and several others on board were aboli­tion­ists. The man then informed us they were escaping from slavery, and had left their homes little more than two days before. They appeared very intel­ligent, though they could neither read nor write, and described to us how they had ef­fected their escape. They had obtained leave to go to a wedding, from which they were not ex­pected to return till the evening of the day fol­lowing. Having procured forged certificates of freedom, for which they paid twenty-five dollars, each, they came forward with expe­dition by railway and steam boat. They had heard of emanci­pation in the British West Indies, and the efforts of the abolitionists in the States, but they were unac­quainted with the existence of vigilance committees, to facil­itate the escape of runaway slaves. We assisted them to proceed to the house of a relative of one of our party, out of the track of the pursuer, should they be followed. There is little doubt that they have safely reached Canada, for I was told at Albany, public opinion had become so strong in favor of self-emanci­pation, that if a runaway were seized in the city, it is probable he would be rescued by the people.

I would also point attention to the fact, which is brought to light by this relation, that the slave-holders have not only to contend with the honest and open-handed means which the abolitionists most righteously employ,* to facil­itate the escape of slaves, but with the mercenary acts of members of their own community, who live by the manu­facture and sale of forged free papers.

*See Deut. xxiii. 15, 16 [“Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant which is escaped from his master unto thee: He shall dwell with thee, even among you, in that place which he shall choose in one of thy gates, where it liketh him best: thou shalt not oppress him.”].

——A Visit to the United States in 1841.