LETTERXVIII.
Description of the Passage of Patowmac and Shenandoah Rivers through a Break in the Blue Mountains.—Some Observations on Mr. Jefferson’s Account of the Scene.—Summary Account of Maryland.—Arrival at Philadelphia.—Remarks on the Climate of the United States.—State of the City of Philadelphia during the Heat of Summer.—Difficulty of preserving Butter, Milk, Meat, Fish, &c.—General Use of Ice.—Of the Winds.—State of Weather in America depends greatly upon them.
Philadelphia, June.
HAVING traversed, in various directions, the country to the west of the Blue Mountains in Virginia, I came to the Patowmac, at the place where that river passes through the Blue Ridge, which Mr. Jefferson, in his Notes upon Virginia, has represented as one of the soft “stupendous scenes in nature, and worth a voyage across the Atlantic.” The approach towards the place is wild and romantic. After crossing a number of small hills, which rise one above the other in succession, you at last perceive the break in the Blue Ridge; at the same time the road suddenly turning, windsdown a long and deep hill, shaded with lofty trees, whose branches unite over your head. On one side of the road there are large heaps of rocks above you, which seem to threaten destruction to any one that passes under them; on the other, a deep precipice presents itself, at the bottom of which is heard the roaring of the waters, that are concealed from the eye by the thickness of the foliage. Towards the end of this hill, about sixty feet above the level of the water, stands a tavern and a few houses, and from some fields in the rear of them the passage of the river through the mountain is, I think, seen to the best advantage.
PASSAGE OF RIVERS.
The Patowmac on the left comes winding along through a fertile country towards the mountain; on the right flows the Shenandoah: uniting together at the foot of the mountain, they roll on through the gap; then suddenly expanding to the breadth of about four hundred yards, they pass on towards the sea, and are finally lost to the view amidst surrounding hills. The rugged appearance of the sides of the mountain towards the river, and the large rocks that lie scattered about at the bottom, many of which have evidently been split asunder by some great convulsion, “are monuments,” as Mr. Jefferson observes, of the “war that has taken place at this spot betweenrivers and mountains; and at first sight they lead us into an opinion that mountains were created before rivers began to flow; that the waters of the Patowmac and Shenandoah were dammed up for a time by the Blue Ridge, but continuing to rise, that they at length broke through at this spot, and tore the mountain asunder from its summit to its base.” Certain it is, that if the Blue Ridge could be again made entire, an immense body of water would be formed on the western side of it, by the Shenandoah and Patowmac rivers, and this body of water would be deepest, and consequently would act with more force in sapping a passage for itself through the mountain, at the identical spot where the gap now is than at any other, for this is the lowest spot in a very extended tract of country. A glance at the map will be sufficient to satisfy any person on this point; it will at once be seen, that all the rivers of the adjacent country bend their courses hitherwards. Whether the ridge, however, was left originally entire, or whether a break was left in it for the passage of the rivers, it is impossible at this day to ascertain; but it is very evident that the sides of the gap have been reduced to their present rugged state by some great inundation. Indeed, supposing that the Patowmacand Shenandoah ever rose during a flood, a common circumstance in spring and autumn, only equally high with what James River did in 1795, that is fifteen feet above their usual level, such a circumstance might have occasioned a very material alteration in the appearance of the gap.
ROCKS LOOSENED.
The Blue Ridge, on each side of the Patowmac, is formed, from the foundation to the summit, of large rocks deposited in beds of rich soft earth. This earth is very readily washed away, and in that case the rocks consequently become loose; indeed, they are frequently loosened even by heavy showers of rain. A proof of this came within my own observation, which I shall never forget. It had been raining excessively hard the whole morning of that day on which I arrived at this place; the evening however was very fine, and being anxious to behold the scene in every point of view, I crossed the river, and attended the mountain at a steep part on the opposite side, where there was no path, and many large projecting rocks. I had walked up about fifty yards, when a large stone that I set my foot upon, and which appeared to me perfectly firm, all at once gave way; it had been loosened by the rain, and brought down such a heap of others with it in its fall, with such a tremendous noise at the same time,that I thought the whole mountain was coming upon me, and expected every moment to be dashed to pieces. I slid down about twenty feet, and then luckily caught hold of the branch of a tree, by which I clung; but the stones still continued to roll down heap after heap; several times, likewise, after all had been still for a minute or two, they again began to fall with increased violence. In this state of suspense I was kept for a considerable time, not knowing but that some stone larger than the rest might give way, and carry down with it even the tree by which I held. Unacquainted also with the paths of the mountain, there seemed to me to be no other way of getting down, excepting over the fallen stones, a way which I contemplated with horror. Night however was coming on very fast; it was absolutely necessary to quit the situation I was in, and fortunately I got to the bottom without receiving any further injury than two or three slight contusions on my hips and elbows. The people congratulated me when I came back on my escape, and informed me, that the stones very commonly gave way in this manner after heavy falls of rain; but on the dissolution of a large body of snow, immense rocks, they said, would sometimes roll down with a crash that might be heard for miles. The consequences then of a largerock towards the bottom of the mountain being undermined by a flood, and giving way, may be very readily imagined: the rock above it, robbed of its support, would also fall; this would bring down with it numbers of others with which it was connected, and thus a disruption would be produced from the base to the very summit of the mountain.
IRON.
The passage of the rivers through the ridge at this place is certainly a curious scene, and deserving of attention; but I am far from thinking with Mr. Jefferson, that it is “one of the most stupendous scenes in nature, and worth a voyage across the Atlantic;” nor has it been my lot to meet with any person that had been a spectator of the scene, after reading his description of it, but what also differed with him very materially in opinion. To find numberless scenes more stupendous, it would be needless to go farther than Wales. A river, it is true, is not to be met with in that country, equal in size to the Patowmac; but many are to be seen there rushing over their stony beds with much more turbulence and impetuosity than either the Patowmac or Shenandoah: the rocks, the precipices, and the mountains of the Blue Ridge at this place are diminutive and uninteresting also, compared with those which abound in that country. Indeed, from every part of Mr. Jefferson’sdescription, it appears as if he had beheld the scene, not in its present state, but at the very moment when the disruption happened, and when every thing was in a state of tumult and confusion.
After crossing the Patowmac, I passed on to Frederic in Maryland, which has already been mentioned, and from thence to Baltimore. The country between Frederic and Baltimore is by no means so rich as that west of the Blue Ridge, but it is tolerably well cultivated. Iron and copper are found here in many places. No works of any consequence have as yet been established for the manufacture of copper, but there are several extensive iron works. The iron is of a remarkably tough quality; indeed, throughout the states of Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, it is generally so; and the utensils made of it, as pots, kettles, &c. though cast much thinner than usual in England, will admit of being pitched into the carts, and thrown about, without any danger of being broken. The forges and furnaces are all worked by negroes, who seem to be particularly suited to such an occupation, not only on account of their sable complexions, but because they can sustain a much greater degree of heat than white persons without any inconvenience. In the hottest days in summer they are never without fires in their huts.
The farms and plantations in Maryland consist, in general, of from one hundred to one thousand acres. In the upper parts of the state, towards the mountains, the land is divided into small portions. Grain is what is principally cultivated, and there are few slaves. In the lower parts of the state, and in this part of the country between Frederic and Baltimore, the plantations are extensive; large quantities of tobacco are raised, and the labour is performed almost entirely by negroes. The persons residing upon these large plantations live very similar to the planters in Virginia: all of them have their stewards and overseers, and they give themselves but little trouble about the management of the lands. As in Virginia, the clothing for the slaves, and most of the implements for husbandry, are manufactured on each estate. The quarters of the slaves are situated in the neighbourhood of the principal dwelling house, which gives the residence of every planter the appearance of a little village, just the same as in Virginia. The houses are for the most part built of wood, and painted with Spanish brown; and in front there is generally a long porch, painted white.
WEATHER.
CLIMATE.
From Baltimore I returned to Philadelphia, where I arrived on the fourteenth day of June, after having been absent about three months.During the whole of that period the weather had been extremely variable, scarcely ever remaining alike four days together. As early as the fourteenth of March, in Pennsylvania, Fahrenheit’s thermometer stood at 65° at noon day, though not more than a week before it had been so low as 14°. At the latter end of the month, in Maryland, I scarcely ever observed it higher than 50° at noon: the evenings were always cold, and the weather was squally and wet. In the northern neck of Virginia, for two or three days together, during the second week in April, it rose from 80° to 84°, in the middle of the day; but on the wind suddenly shifting, it fell again, and remained below 70° for some days. As I passed along through the lower parts of Virginia, I frequently afterwards observed it as high as 80° during the month of April; but on no day in the month of May, previous to the fourteenth, did it again rise to the same height; indeed, so far from it, many of the days were too cold to be without fires; and on the night of the ninth instant, when I was in the neighbourhood of the South-west Mountains, so sharp a frost took place, that it destroyed all the cherries, and also most of the early wheat, and of the young shoots of Indian corn; in some particular places, for miles together, the young leaves of the forest trees even were all withered,and the country had exactly the appearance of November. On the tenth instant, the day after the frost, the thermometer was as low as 46° in the middle of the day; yet four days afterwards it stood at 81°. During the remainder of the month, and during June, until I reached Philadelphia, it fluctuated between 60° and 80°; the weather was on the whole fine, but frequently for a day or two together the air felt extremely raw and disagreeable. The changes in the state of the atmosphere were also sometimes very sudden. On the sixth day of June, when on my way to Frederic-town, after passing the Patowmac River, the most remarkable change of this nature took place which I ever witnessed. The morning had been oppressively hot; the thermometer at 81°, and the wind S. S. W. About one o’clock in the afternoon, a black cloud appeared in the horizon, and a tremendous gust came on, accompanied by thunder and lightning; several large trees were torn up by the roots by the wind; hailstones, about three times the size of an ordinary pea, fell for a few minutes, and afterwards a torrent of rain came pouring down, nearly as if a water-spout had broken over head. Just before the gust came on, I had suspended my thermometer from a window with a northern aspect, when it stood at 81°; but on looking at it at theend of twenty-three minutes, by which time the gust was completely over, I found it down to 59°, a change of 22°. A north-west wind now set in, the evening was most delightful, and the thermometer again rose to 65°. In Pennsylvania the thermometer has been known to vary fifty degrees in the space of twenty-six hours.
The climate of the middle and southern states is extremely variable; the seasons of two succeeding years are seldom alike; and it scarcely ever happens that a month passes over without very great vicissitudes in the weather taking place. Doctor Rittenhouse remarked, that whilst he resided in Pennsylvania, he discovered nightly frosts in every month of the year excepting July, and even in that month, during which the heat is always greater than at any other time of the year, a cold day or two sometimes intervene, when a fire is found very agreeable.
The climate of the state of New York is very similar to that of Pennsylvania, excepting that in the northern parts of that state, bordering upon Canada, the winters are always severe and long. The climate of New Jersey, Delaware, and the upper parts of Maryland, is also much the same with that of Pennsylvania; in the lower parts of Maryland the climate does not differ materially from that of Virginia tothe eastward of the Blue Ridge, where it very rarely happens that the thermometer is as low as 6° above cipher.
In Pennsylvania, the range of the mercury in Fahrenheit’s thermometer has been observed to be from 24° below cipher to 105° above it; but it is an unusual occurrence for the mercury to stand at either of these extreme points; in its approach towards them it commonly draws much nearer to the extreme of heat than to that of cold. During the winter of 1795, and the three preceding years, it did not sink lower than 10° above cipher; a summer however seldom passes over that it does not rise to 96°. It was mentioned as a singular circumstance, that in 1789 the thermometer never rose higher than 90°.
CLIMATE.
Of the oppression that is felt from the summer heats in America, no accurate idea can be formed without knowing the exact state of the hygrometer as well as the height of the thermometer. The moisture of the air varies very much in different parts of the country; it also varies in all parts with the winds; and it is surprising to find what a much greater degree of heat can be borne without inconvenience when the air is dry than when it is moist. In New England, in a remarkably dry air, the heat is not found more insupportable when the thermometer stands at 100°, than itis in the lower parts of the southern states, where the air is moist, when the thermometer stands perhaps at 90°, that is, supposing the wind to be in the same quarter in both places. In speaking of Virginia I have taken notice of the great difference that is found between the climate of the mountains and the climate of the low country in that state. The case is the same in every other part of the country. From the mountains in New England, along the different ridges which run through New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and the southern states, even to the extremity of Georgia, the heat is never found very oppressive; whilst as far north as Pennsylvania and New York, the heat in the low parts of the country, between the mountains and the ocean, is frequently intolerable.
WEATHER.
In the course of the few days that I have spent in Philadelphia during this month, the thermometer has risen repeatedly to 86° and for two or three days it stood at 93°. During these days no one stirred out of doors that was not compelled to do so; those that could make it convenient with their business always walked with umbrellas to shade them from the sun; light white hats were universally worn, and the young men appeared dressed in cotton or linen jackets and trowsers; every gleam of sunshine seemed to be considered as banefuland destructive; the window shutters of each house were closed early in the morning, so as to admit no more light than what was absolutely necessary for domestic business; many of the houses, indeed, were kept so dark, that on going into them from the street, it was impossible at first entrance to perceive who was present. The best houses in the city are furnished with Venetian blinds, at the outside, to the windows and hall doors, which are made to fold together like common window shutters. Where they had these they constantly kept them closed, and the windows and doors were left open behind them to admit air. A very different scene was presented in the city as soon as the sun was set; every house was then thrown open, and the inhabitants all crowded into the streets to take their evening walks, and visit their acquaintance. It appeared every night as if some grand spectacle was to be exhibited, for not a street or alley was there but what was in a state of commotion. This varied scene usually lasted till about ten o’clock; at eleven there is no city in the world, perhaps, so quiet all the year round; at that hour you may walk over half the town without seeing the face of a human being, except the watchmen. Very heavy dews sometimes fall after these hot days, as soon as the sun is down, and the nights are then found very cold; at othertimes there are no dews, and the air remains hot all the night through. For days together in Philadelphia, the thermometer has been observed never to be lower than 80° during any part of the twenty-four hours.
I observe now that meat can never be kept, but in an ice house or a remarkable cold cellar, for one day, without being tainted. Milk generally turns sour in the course of one or two hours after it comes from the cow. Fish is never brought to market without being covered with lumps of ice, and notwithstanding that care, it frequently happens that it is not fit to be eat. Butter is brought to market likewise in ice, which they generally have in great plenty at every farm house; indeed it is almost considered as a necessary of life in these low parts of the country. Poultry intended for dinner is never killed till about four hours before the time it is wanted, and then it is kept immersed in water, without which precaution it would be tainted. Notwithstanding all this, I have been told, that were I to stay in Philadelphia till the latter end of July or beginning of August, I should find the heat much more intolerable than it has been hitherto. Most of the other large sea-port towns, south of Philadelphia, are equally hot and disagreeable in summer; andBaltimore, Norfolk, and some others, even more so.
The winds in every part of the country make a prodigious difference in the temperature of the air. When the north-west wind blows, the heat is always found more tolerable than with any other, although the thermometer should be at the same height. This wind is uncommonly dry, and brings with it fresh animation and vigour to every living thing. Although this wind is so very piercing in winter, yet I think the people never complain so much of cold as when the north-east wind blows; for my own part I never found the air so agreeable, let the season of the year be what it would, as with the north-west wind. The north-east wind is also cold, but it renders the air raw and damp. That from the south-east is damp but warm. Rain or snow usually falls when the wind comes from any point towards the east. The south-west wind, like the north-west, is dry; but it is attended generally with warm weather. When in a southerly point, gusts, as they are called, that is, storms attended with thunder, lightning, hail, and rain, are common.
WINDS.
It is a matter of no difficulty to account for these various effects of the winds in America. The north-west wind, from comingover such an immense tract of land, must necessarily be dry; and coming from regions eternally covered with mounds of snow and ice, it must also be cold. The north-east wind, from traversing the frozen seas, must be cold likewise; but from passing over such a large portion of the watry main afterwards, it brings damps and moistures with it. All those from the east are damp, and loaded with vapours, from the same cause. Southerly winds, from crossing the warm regions between the tropics, are attended with heat; and the south-west wind, from passing, like the north-west, over a great extent of land, is dry at the same time; none however is so dry as that from the north-west. It is said, but with what truth I cannot take upon me to say, that west of the Alleghany and Appalachian mountains, which are all in the same range, the south-west winds are cold and attended with rain. Those great extremes of heat and cold, observable on the eastern side of the mountains, are unknown to the westward of them.