18878	----	APRIL 2, 1918 BULLETIN NO. 1 RETURN-LOADS BUREAUS TO SAVE WASTE IN TRANSPORTATION HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE WASHINGTON, D. C. RESOLUTION PASSED BY THE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. _"The Council of National Defense approves the widest possible use of the motor truck as a transportation agency, and requests the State Councils of Defense and other State authorities to take all necessary steps to facilitate such means of transportation, removing any regulations that tend to restrict and discourage such use."_ WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1918 COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE. WASHINGTON, D. C. RETURN-LOAD BUREAUS TO SAVE WASTE IN TRANSPORTATION. RELIEF FROM RAILROAD DELAYS AND EMBARGOES. Through the cooperation of State Councils of Defense, Chambers of Commerce, local War Boards, and Motor Clubs, the Council of National Defense, through its Highways Transport Committee and its State Councils Section is building up a system for more efficient utilization of the highways of the country as a means of affording merchants and manufacturers relief from railroad embargoes and delays due to freight congestion. This system already is in successful operation in Connecticut and is being extended throughout the country. The purpose is to take some of the burden of the short haul off the railroads and put it on motor trucks operating over the highways. Very considerable quantities of merchandise and materials of all kinds are now being carried by trucks operated by private concerns in their own businesses and by motor express and haulage companies. In a majority of cases, however, these trucks, after delivering a load, return empty, whereas there are shippers who would be glad to avail themselves of the opportunity to send a load back on such a truck to its home town if they knew it was going back empty. On the other hand, the truck owner would be equally glad to secure a return load because the charge made for hauling it would reduce his own haulage cost. To bring the shipper and truck owner together serves the interests of both. It doubles the efficiency of the motor truck, enables business men to make prompt shipments or secure deliveries in a day instead of several, relieves the railroads of much short-haul freight, and thereby releases cars for necessary long-distance haulage of munitions, equipment, and other supplies for our Army in France, and for foodstuffs, fuel, etc., for the civilian population at home. CHAMBERS OF COMMERCE BRING SHIPPER AND TRUCK OWNER TOGETHER. The logical agency for bringing the two interests together is the local business men's organization in each locality--the Chamber of Commerce, Board of Trade, or by whatever name it is known. They are in direct touch with the manufacturers and merchants in their respective communities, they know the present difficulties of shipping and they have the facilities for most quickly and systematically putting the shipper in touch with the man who has the facility for haulage. The method of doing this is by the establishment of a Return-Loads Bureau--an information department that acts as a clearing house for this particular purpose. Once initiated, the work of such a bureau can, in most cities, be carried on by a single employee of the Chamber, probably in addition to his other duties. If necessary or desirable, a small charge can be made to the truck owner or the shipper for the service to cover whatever expense may be involved in starting and maintaining the bureau. But the plan affords an opportunity to be of such additional service to members of the organization and to business interests of the city generally that the increased support which may be gained through it should offset the cost incurred. Apart from this is the opportunity it presents to be of patriotic service to our country by increasing its transportation facilities at a time when the safety of the Nation depends absolutely upon transportation. Shortage of railroad cars and locomotives created a shortage of coal during the winter. Lack of coal slowed down production of steel, which in turn delayed ship construction. Insufficient coal for bunkering ships created a critical congestion of freight in Atlantic port terminals and in railroad yards hundreds of miles inland. A certain part of this congestion was due to short-haul shipments of freight within cities and originating in near-by points, 10, 20, or 50 miles from the cities. Much of this short-haul freight can be carried on the highways by motor trucks. It can be picked up at the door of the shipper and delivered at the door of the consignee, entailing only two handlings. It can be delivered the same day it is shipped, whereas the same shipment by rail would require several days if not a week or more. And the shipment can go forward by motor when a rail freight and express embargo precludes shipment by rail at all. DEPENDABILITY OF MOTOR-TRUCK HAULAGE PROVEN. The practicability and dependability of motor-truck haulage not only within cities but between neighboring cities have been demonstrated fully. Hundreds of local and intercity motor express lines are in successful operation in widely scattered sections of the country. The Return-Load Bureau system has been installed in England, where it is now considered unpatriotic to run a truck without a load. Manchester, England, for example, and all the surrounding cities have their Return-Load Bureaus and have reciprocal arrangements whereby they exchange information regarding available trucks and loads. Consequently, any Chamber of Commerce in a city whose merchants are adversely affected by rail embargoes and delays, freight congestion, or lack of sufficient and direct rail transportation, and where there is any considerable number of motor trucks, will not be embarking upon a doubtful experiment in establishing such a bureau. NO RESPONSIBILITY ASSUMED. A Return-loads Bureau can be established by a Chamber of Commerce without creating any legal liability to the shipper or assuming any other responsibility. The function pure and simple is to advise the shipper where and when a truck can be obtained to haul his goods and to advise the truck owner where a load can be obtained. It has been found in England that very often, when such a relationship has been established between the shipper and the truck owner, an arrangement is made between them for regular service, and they do not need to call on the bureau for further assistance, thus lightening the work to be performed by the Chamber. It is left entirely to the shipper and the truck operator to make their own agreement as to the rate to be paid for haulage, liability of the truck owner or driver for safety of the goods in transit, and so forth. It is expected, however, that the Chamber of Commerce will exercise reasonable judgment and precaution, inquiring into the reliability of truck drivers and endeavoring to correct any abuses that may arise. HOW TO START A RETURN-LOADS BUREAU. No difficulty and no great amount of work are involved in establishing a Return-Loads Bureau. All that is necessary is to follow the example of Connecticut where through the initiative of the State Council of Defense, Return-Loads Bureaus have been established in 15 cities. The Council addressed letters to the Chambers of Commerce, inviting their cooperation in the movement. Return post cards were printed and mailed to motor-truck owners in the different cities. On the reverse side of the cards was a brief questionnaire to be filled out by the truck owner stating whether or not he would carry "back loads" for reasonable compensation, whether he would rent his truck at full capacity or partial capacity, number of trucks owned, number of hours a day or days a week the truck would be available under the return-loads plan, its capacity in tons, etc. As these reply cards came back, they were filed in a 3 by 5 card index drawer, arranged by cities and by routes out of the respective cities. It developed from this canvass that there were in the 15 cities more than 700 trucks of 1-ton capacity or more available for such service and that they operated over 49 main routes. Names and addresses of truck owners may be obtained from the automobile registration bureau in the office of the secretary of state or the commissioner of motor vehicles, as the case may be. DUPLICATE RECORDS IN NEIGHBORING CITIES. Duplicates of this master file were furnished by the State Council of Defense in Connecticut to the Chamber of Commerce in each of the 15 cities, together with a map showing the location of each Return-Loads Bureau and all of the truck routes, numbered serially. Thus, the head of the bureau in each city knows just what trucks are available in the other cities and the routes over which they operate. It is desirable that the State Council of Defense, where one exists, should indorse this movement, but it is not necessary that the Chamber of Commerce in any city should wait for it to do so. It is perfectly feasible for the Chamber to initiate the work itself in its own community and then propose to similar chambers in neighboring cities to do likewise and establish an exchange of information. Having ascertained what trucks are available for hauling, the next move is for the Return-Loads Bureau to circularize the merchants, manufacturers, and other business enterprises in the community, advising them of the establishment of the bureau and asking them to report to it whenever they have any goods or materials which they wish to have hauled, either within the city or to near-by cities or villages. These reports may be made by telephone or on postal cards. Blank cards of a size (as 3 by 5 inches) suitable for filing may be supplied to shippers in quantity by the bureau for the purpose. LIST RETURN-LOADS BUREAU IN TELEPHONE DIRECTORY. The telephone company should be asked to list the Return-Loads Bureau under the title "Return Loads" in the local directory and truck owners and shippers be notified that by calling "Return Loads" or the telephone number of the bureau they can learn where a load may be obtained to carry back to the city from which the truck brought a load or where a truck can be obtained to carry the goods the shipper desires delivered. Publicity should be given in all the local newspapers and in those of neighboring cities of the establishment of the bureau, so that all interests may immediately begin making use of the facilities afforded. It will be found that there are two classes of business to be handled by the bureau--regular and irregular. In many cities there are motor express lines operating on daily schedule over regular routes and there are shippers who have regular shipments to make. Having brought these together once, further service of the bureau will be unnecessary so far as these particular parties are concerned. Then there are many companies, firms or individuals that own trucks which they use only in their own business but which stand idle part of the time or which from time to time deliver a load in a neighboring city and return home empty. There are also shippers who have depended on the railroad but in emergency wish to make a quick shipment. It will be necessary to keep a daily record of these and cross off the truck or the shipment as soon as it is learned that the truck has gone back to its home city and is no longer available or the shipment has been completed. INTERCHANGE INFORMATION ON IRREGULAR WORK. A system of daily interchange of information regarding this irregular service should be arranged with bureaus in other cities, so that a truck operator in Hartford, for example, who has a load to haul to New Haven can learn from the bureau in Hartford before starting where and on what day or at what time he can secure a load in New Haven to take back to Hartford. He may find that by delaying his own shipment a day or by making it a day earlier he can get a return load, whereas otherwise he might have to return light. Shippers, therefore, should be urged to give as much advance notice as possible of shipments they wish to make. Within a short time this system will extend to long distances. Recently a company in New York called up the Chamber of Commerce (before any Return-Loads Bureau was established there) and stated it intended to send a motor truck to Vermont to bring back some machinery and wanted to know where a load could be secured to take to Vermont or at least a considerable part of the way. Another company called up and said it had a truck coming from Philadelphia with a load and wanted to get a load going back. Motor express lines are already operating on daily schedule between New York and Philadelphia, between Hartford and New York, and between Boston and Hartford. It is the purpose of the Highways Transport Committee to bring about, just as quickly as possible, the organization of Return-Loads Bureaus in all the cities where it will be beneficial and to establish reciprocal relations among them on the plan of the Connecticut system. SECURE COOPERATION OF MOTOR-TRUCK DEALERS. Motor-truck dealers can be of great assistance to the Chambers of Commerce in promoting this movement and in helping to get the bureaus started. They are in direct touch with truck owners, know the routes over which trucks are operated, condition of the roads, railroad shipping difficulties, etc. It is recommended that the Chambers of Commerce call on them to appoint a representative committee from among them to cooperate with it. They can furnish a great deal of useful information and will be a valuable factor in disseminating information regarding the work of the bureau and making it 100 per cent useful. (Copy of a bulletin is reprinted below, which was issued to its members by the Chamber of Commerce of the United States, Riggs Building, Washington, D. C.) MOTOR-TRUCK TRANSPORTATION. RETURN-LOAD BUREAU. The motor truck is a part of the transportation equipment in every community. Its use more nearly to capacity will help solve local problems. More complete use means loads both ways. A motor truck usually carries a good load to its destination, whether the destination is in the same community or in another city. Too often, however, the truck makes the return trip with no load. Every time this occurs there is waste of at least half the capacity of a truck to do work in transportation. Owners of trucks do not wish half the earning power of their vehicles to be lost. Manufacturers and merchants with goods piled up and awaiting shipment do not like to see empty trucks pass their doors. Both need a local clearing house for information about the trucks that are available and the shipments that are ready--i. e., to bring together loads and empty trucks. Such a clearing house the local commercial organization can easily provide. It will not ordinarily entail any special expense. It will promote cooperation in the community. It will render a very real service for which business men will be thoroughly grateful. Return-Load Bureau is a convenient name for a clearing house. The bureau should ascertain the established lines of trucks that run regularly on fixed routes and the part of their capacity that is not being utilized. It should then obtain information from all owners of trucks used for private hauling, getting statements about the capacity of each truck, how far its capacity is used, between what points the capacity is unused, if the unused capacity can be made available for other persons at a reasonable price, etc. Besides gathering this information the bureau can make known to everyone that whenever a truck is to make a trip without a load the bureau will respond to a telephone inquiry by endeavoring to give the name of a person who wants to send a load over the route in question. Efforts can be made also to have drivers who bring loads by truck from other points telephone to the bureau in order to get return loads. At the same time the bureau can enlist the cooperation of business men who may have shipments to make. In order that any driver or other person from out of town may quickly ascertain if there is a return load for him, each bureau should be specially listed in the telephone directory. With incidental questions the bureau will not usually need to deal. For example, it can leave the compensation that is to be paid to negotiation between the parties. In England Return-Load Bureaus have proved of great assistance. They have been most developed in the United States by commercial organizations in Connecticut. Experience has demonstrated that the assistance they can render is very real and important, and that they can be organized advantageously in many communities where they have not as yet been tried. 
19757	----	* * * * * AUGUST 1, 1918 BULLETIN NO. 3 (FOR SHIPPERS) "RETURN LOADS" TO INCREASE TRANSPORT RESOURCES BY AVOIDING WASTE OF EMPTY VEHICLE RUNNING HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE WASHINGTON, D.C. [Illustration] RESOLUTION PASSED BY THE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. "_The Council of National Defense approves the widest possible use of the motor truck as a transportation agency, and requests the State Councils of Defense and other State authorities to take all necessary steps to facilitate such means of transportation, removing any regulations that tend to restrict and discourage such use._" WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1918 COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE. WASHINGTON, D.C. HIGHWAYS TRANSPORTATION AS A WAR-TIME MEASURE ONE OF THE SOLUTIONS OF THE SHIPPER'S "SHORT-HAUL" PROBLEM. To increase the highways transport resources as one of the means of strengthening the entire transportation system of the country, and for the purpose of avoiding the waste incurred by running transport vehicles empty, return-load bureaus are established. These bureaus are a means of bringing together the shipper having goods to move and the operator of an empty vehicle which is possibly running to the point for which the goods to be shipped are destined. With the cooperation of State councils of defense, chambers of commerce, local war boards, and other organizations the Council of National Defense, through its Highways Transport Committee and its State Councils Section, is building up a system for the efficient utilization of the highways of the country as a means of strengthening the Nation's transportation resources and affording merchants and manufacturers relief from necessary railroad embargoes and delays due to freight congestion. State Highways Transport Committees are being organized in all States of the Union. The primary functions of the State Highways Transport bodies are the development of the five outstanding activities to which instant attention is being given by the Highways Transport Committee of the National Council of Defense, as follows: Return Load Bureaus, Rural Express, Cooperation with Federal Railroad Administration, Educational, Transport Operating Efficiency. These activities encompass, briefly, and in the order named, the following: Elimination of empty running of trucks by bringing together shipper and truck owner in such way as to provide full loads wherever possible. Rapid development, over fixed routes, of daily power-vehicle service, with definite schedules of stops and charges and provision made for gathering shipments both on outgoing and incoming trips. Substitution of adequate truck service that the intracity and short-haul service of rail carriers may be relieved and partially supplanted; the relief of congested terminals, and an effective store-door delivery plan. Organization of a campaign to place highways transport work throughout the States in its proper light before the public, that the support of the people in favor of national policies may be made certain. To this end an outstanding feature of the work will be enlistment of the support of all users of highways transport. Making transportation more efficient through encouragement of such use of highways transport as will eliminate making trips with part loads, the loss of time in loading and unloading, and unnecessary delays in the handling of receipts. By taking part of the burden of the "short haul" off the railroads and placing it on motor trucks operating over the highways, millions of tons of merchandise and materials are transported satisfactorily and the railroads are given much needed relief. The motive power and cars thus freed from short-haul work can be employed in very important long-distance service. The Railroad Administration has indorsed motor transportation for this work and reported that this form of relief will make it possible for the railroads to operate more effectively under the present traffic congestion; hence shippers using the highways are assisting in the solution of transportation problems and rendering a patriotic service. It is also to be noted that if shippers use the highways for short hauls and thus relieve the railroads of a burden, they assist in improving general conditions so that they will indirectly benefit by having more prompt service on long-distance shipments. Dependability of Highways Transportation Proven. The practicability and dependability of highway haulage between neighboring cities has been demonstrated fully. Hundreds of local and intercity motor express lines are in successful operation in widely scattered sections of the country. The return-load bureau system has been installed in England, where it is now considered unpatriotic to run a truck without a load. Manchester, England, for example, and all the surrounding cities were among the first to start return-load bureaus and have reciprocal arrangements whereby they exchange information regarding available trucks and loads. Much of the short-haul freight is carried on the highways by motor trucks. It is picked up at the door of the shipper and delivered at the door of the consignee, entailing only two handlings. It is delivered the same day it is shipped, which for certain commodities is the rapidity of transport desired. Frequently after motor trucks deliver a load, they return empty, whereas there are shippers who would avail themselves of the opportunity to send a load on such a truck to its home town. On the other hand, the truck owner would like to obtain a return load because the charge for it would reduce his own haulage cost. To bring the shipper and truck owner together serves the interests of both, hence the return-load bureaus are of mutual benefit. These bureaus are nonmoney-making patriotic organizations deserving of the support of shippers whom they serve unselfishly. Return-Load Bureaus Listed in Telephone Directories. In many cities the telephone companies have listed the return-load bureaus under the title "Return loads" in the local directories. By calling "Return loads" or the telephone number of the bureau, shippers can learn where trucks may be obtained to carry loads to points which the shipper wishes to reach quickly. In many cities there are motor express lines operating on daily schedule over regular routes, but there are also many companies, firms, and individuals that own trucks which stand idle part of the time. The return-load bureaus list these trucks and can place them at the service of the shippers on short notice. There may be many transportation problems confronting shippers, especially during the winter period, when it is difficult for the railroads to operate at maximum efficiency due to weather conditions. There is, however, no period in the year when the judicious use of the highways can not be of service both to the country and its shippers. It is suggested that a contact be made with the traffic manager of the local return-load bureau and the possibilities of this type of transportation studied. Preparedness is proportionately of as much benefit to the individual as to the Nation, and if consideration is now given by the shippers to the few problems that may be confronting them in connection with highway transportation, they will be in a position to profit by this form of transportation when the needs arise. It is the purpose of the Highways Transport Committee to bring about as quickly as possible an organization of return-load bureaus in all States where it will be beneficial to establish reciprocal relations. In the meantime shipments can be made over those routes which have been designated for highway transportation. Motor trucks are a part of the transportation equipment of every community, and to increase their transport capacity they should operate continuously under full loads as far as possible. This is also in the interests of conservation, in that they do not "wear the road without the load," and effect a saving of the equipment and incidental supplies. Shippers can be of considerable assistance in making efficient this war-time measure by cooperating with the return-load bureaus. Shippers are urged to give as much advance notice as possible, so that the bureaus may notify those in other cities in time to arrange for loads for motor trucks on return trips. Since transportation problems have greatly multiplied, due to the demands made upon the railways, waterways, etc., the one source left open for quick expansion is the highway. Manufacturers, merchants, and others interested in the shipment of materials and supplies of all kinds should give this form of transportation careful consideration and encourage the work of return-load bureaus. Shippers should realize the vital importance of patronizing these bureaus, which are so unselfishly rendering a great service, as the expenses of each bureau are cared for by the local community or organization where the bureau is located. In many cases highway transportation costs less than rail express rates, while in some cases it is slightly in excess, but, regardless of rates, highway transportation is a war-time measure. Shippers derive great benefits from the quick movement of merchandise by rail over long distances, due to the relief the railroads receive as the result of short hauls being taken care of by motor trucks. Shippers thus directly assist in the solution of their own transportation problems by using the highways. * * * * * We are always interested in receiving suggestions regarding the operation of return-load bureaus, or suggested need for such a bureau where one is not already to be found. These communications should properly be directed to the highways transport committee of the State council of defense, or to the Highways Transport Committee, Council of National Defense, 944 Munsey Building, Washington, D.C. * * * * * 
19758	----	* * * * * OCTOBER 15, 1918 BULLETIN NO. 4 ADDRESS BY HONORABLE WILLIAM C. REDFIELD SECRETARY OF COMMERCE AT CONFERENCE OF REGIONAL CHAIRMEN OF THE HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE WASHINGTON, D.C. SEPTEMBER 19, 1918 [Illustration] RESOLUTION PASSED BY THE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE "_The Council of National Defense approves the widest possible use of the motor truck as a transportation agency, and requests the State Councils of Defense and other State authorities to take all necessary steps to facilitate such means of transportation, removing any regulations that tend to restrict and discourage such use._" WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1918 [Illustration: MAP SHOWING REGIONAL AREAS Highways Transport Committee Council of National Defense] _Recognizing the national value of our highways in relation to, and properly coordinated with, other existing transportation mediums, and more particularly the necessity for their immediate development that they might carry their share of the war burden, the Highways Transport Committee was appointed by, and forms a part of, the Council of National Defense._ _The object of the committee is to increase and render more effective all transportation over the highways as one of the means of strengthening the Nation's transportation system and relieving the railroads of part of the heavy short-haul freight traffic burden._ _National policies are directed from the headquarters of the national committee in Washington to the highways transport committees of the several State Councils of Defense. These State organizations, which by proper subdivisions reach down through the counties to the communities, are grouped together into 11 regional areas, as shown by the map used above. The State committees of the different areas are assisted by and are under the direct supervision of the 11 regional chairmen of the Highways Transport Committee, Council of National Defense._ COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE. WASHINGTON, D.C. ADDRESS BY HON. WILLIAM C. REDFIELD, SECRETARY OF COMMERCE, BEFORE THE REGIONAL CHAIRMEN OF THE HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1918. MR. CHAPIN AND GENTLEMEN: It would be a truism to say that I have always been interested in transportation. It has always been a subject of keen interest to me, I presume, because I was born with it. By the fortune of birth I came to live in a region where transportation has been through every one of its stages in this country. If you go back into the history of the Colonies, you will find the two first lines of through transportation in America were east and west--the St. Lawrence River and the Lakes--while for over a century the one great central north and south line was the Hudson River, Lake George, and Lake Champlain. In that entire length from the St. Lawrence to New York Harbor there was but about 13 miles that could not be traveled by water with such boats as they used. You will recall that great historic events of our early history centered about this transportation line. Burgoyne's surrender, Arnold's treason, the great contests of the French wars, Macdonough's victory on Lake Champlain were all associated with this water route. Such names as Montcalm, Schuyler, and Champlain are linked to it. Historically, it is true both for war and peace that transportation has been formative and controlling in our national life. One of the early evidences of the growth of transportation in this country, and therefore of our national progress, was the act of connecting the Great Lakes by the Erie Canal with the Hudson River. The largest number of railroad tracks paralleling any navigable stream follows to-day the line of the Hudson. There are six much of the way--four tracks on one side and two on the other. I am going to make that historical line of water and rail transportation the basis for a little study with you, to see what the normal development of transportation is, and whether, as I believe, the particular form that concerns you is a natural outgrowth of all that has gone before. If it is so it is here to stay. If in the process of transportation evolution we have reached the normal use of the highway, together with the waterway and the railway, then you are doing a constructive work for your country. But if that work is not normal, if you are trying to impose upon the body politic something strange and artificial, then your work will, and ought to, fail. The transportation system of the United States is not a unity. It can not be run on what we may call unitarian lines. It is a trinity, and has to be run on trinitarian lines. You must link up railways and waterways and highways to get a perfect transportation system for this country. If there were no railroads we would have little transportation. If there were no waterways there would be insufficient transportation. If we had an abundance of railways and waterways and lacked the use of highways, we should have imperfect transportation. We should fail to bring it to every man's door, and it must be brought to every man's door to be perfect. The early transportation in the Hudson River Valley was by sloop. The history of the river is full of the traditions from the old sloop days, when it was sometimes five and sometimes nine days from New York to Albany by water. The river was just as navigable then as it is now; the difference lies in the tool that was used. Now in that use of the fit tool for the route lies the whole truth in transportation, and yet so far as I know the full bearing of the application of the tool to the job is almost new to our discussions of the several phases of transportation. In due time comes Robert Fulton and the _Clermont_ begins to flap flap her weary 36 hours from New York to Albany. A new tool but the same route. In time she passed into a more modern type. The steamboat developed, and came the canal with its mule power. How strange it seems in these days to think of mule power ever having been considered. Yet I have in my possession a letter to the constructing engineer of the Erie Railroad urging that it should be operated by horses between New York and Buffalo and giving 10 very excellent reasons why horses were far better than steam locomotives could be. It took a lot of argument to keep the horses off the Erie Railroad. Came the steam locomotive. Now the rail was not new any more than the river was new. The railroad or tramway in England is far back, earlier than the railroad in America. There were tracks laid many years before anybody thought of a locomotive engine. The invention lies not in the railway but in the tool put upon it. Again the principle of the tool to the job. Also a new principle that the way, whether it was waterway or railway or highway must adapt itself also to the most effective kind of tool that could be put upon it. You could apply it but partially to the river. When canals came along later, it became apparent that you must not only have the best tool for your waterway, but must suit the latter also to the tool. We understand this about railways; we have not been so clear about it as to waterways and highways. It is within two years that the governor of a great State has suggested to me that the use of large motor trucks be forbidden because they destroyed highways. I ask you if you will warrant the removal of locomotive engines because they are made 100 tons heavier and would break the light rail made 40 years ago? The problem is a duplex one. The best tool must be had for the job and the opportunity must be provided for the tool to do its work. So the railway came along and since the mechanical engine fitted so perfectly into the American temperament and the national needs, the railway and the tool for the railway developed together side by side. Still with the coming of the railroad we thought of transportation as a unity. Highways did not amount to very much. Men went by horseback often, because they had to, not always because they wanted to. And after the railroad came, the waterway was all but destroyed, because we thought of transportation as a unity of railroads. Up to a very few years ago all of us who are not far-seeing would have thought of public transportation as meaning essentially the railroads. Yet so rapidly in the last five years has the law of transportation been developed that it is a little bit difficult for us to keep up with the rush of this movement. There came into the world a new tool--the internal-combustion engine--destined to work almost as great a change in the human life as the steam engine in its time, making possible a tool for the waterway that the waterway had never had before, making it possible to use for the highway what the highway had never had before, making necessary the alteration of the highway to suit the new tool built for it. It has never been true until now; it has just now become true that the waterway and highway have been, as regards the tools for their use, on a technical and scientific level with the railway. The Government is just putting in operation this month the first great barges for the Mississippi River intended to carry ore south and coal north, made possible because of the internal-combustion engine. The tool has come, the internal-combustion engine is altering the face of the marine world. So that we do not really need but over 6 feet of water in the northern Mississippi to carry 1,800 tons of ore in one boat. We look upon the development of the New York State barge canal with a certainty of its profitable use for the Nation, for with a 12-foot draft we know we can carry 2,500 tons in any vessel constructed for the purpose, driven by internal-combustion engines. The tool for the job and the way made ready for the tool. I go into my shop to put up a hammer. What is the essential feature of my hammer's operation? The foundation. It may be the most powerful hammer made, but unless given a sufficient sub-structure it can only be destructive. So for the waterway, so for the highway. You may have the most perfect equipment for their use but the instrument must work in a proper environment. So the waterway, then, the last few years--in fact, very recently--has come rapidly into its own. It is within 18 months, gentlemen, that I stood upon the first load of ore going south on the Mississippi River and saw it enter the port of St. Louis. It was only yesterday that I sent to the Senate my formal report urging Government ownership and operation of all the northern coastal canals from North Carolina to New England, with the certainty that adequate and efficient vessels could be provided for their use. Now, these three ways of transporting developed to their full are not hostile to each other. In the days of our ignorance we thought they were. In other times the railroad bought canals to suppress them. But we have learned a larger outlook now and the congestion so recently as a year ago taught us that there are certain kinds of goods, certain types of transportation, that the railways of this country can not afford to do. Certain great items of bulk freight they must always carry. We should starve for steel if we had to depend upon our railroads to bring the ores from Minnesota to Pittsburgh, and the Northwest would be in a hard case if we had always to send coal to them by rail from the region of the East. We are learning that there is a differentiation in transportation. So these two enemies of the past are likely to operate as friends to-day. It is not a strange thing that the internal waterways of the country are at this time being operated by the Railroad Administration. It means an advance in thought. I told the Director General of Railways that two-thirds of the job was fairly well in hand, but that he had left out one-third, and that I thought he would not get his unity complete until he made it a trinity by taking in the highways. I told him that the highways as a transportation system and their development both as to roads and as to means of using the roads were quite as essential to the country as the other two. In reply he suggested that it was a larger job than he himself could undertake, with the railroads and the waterways on his hands, and asked me if I would not do it. To my regret I was obliged to refuse. The law does not give me authority. I should have been glad if I could have had more of a part in it, because, given your perfected railroad--and I speak as a friend of the railroad and a friend of the waterway, which I think is also coming into its own--I am convinced that neither will reach its normal place as a servant of the people unless linked up with motor-truck routes. There is a steamboat line running from New Haven to New York. At New Haven lines of motor trucks radiate out in several directions. From this radius around New Haven for many miles in three directions the motor trucks come down in the evening to the boat. The boat leaves a little before midnight and arrives in New York in the morning, when the freight is transferred and goes out on the early trains for the West. It is a good system of interlocking service such as we have got to have. My conception of the future of the New York Barge Canal and the canal across New Jersey and the Chesapeake and Ohio and all the waterways is that the companies operating on them shall pick up and deliver at every important terminal point by lines which shall radiate out by motor trucks from 50 to 100 miles, and they shall take from these places goods thus brought to their station. So that if when, for example, they were delivering goods from Kentucky to Illinois, it might start from a farm or from an inland village by motor truck and go to the nearest waterway station, there to be picked up by a vessel and to be carried down the Kentucky and Ohio to a point sufficiently near in Illinois to where it was to go, there to be picked up by motor trucks which would carry it to its destination, and it should be billed through by one bill of lading. That would definitely establish that the vehicles and highways are not accidental or incidental but an essential factor. That, it seems to me, is what we are coming to before very long. I imagine we will come to it almost before we think of it. From that are a number of inferences. The public authorities have got to be sufficiently educated to make a good thing possible. They have got to learn, as many a farmer has to learn, that the most costly thing in the world is a bad road; that as compared with seal-skin furs and platinum mud is far more costly an item; and that there is no such evidence of a muddy state of mind in a community as a muddy state of highways in the community. They go together--mental and physical mud. Now, let us see whether our idea is false or true in its application. The Hudson River has by it six tracks of railroad. The fleet of vessels upon the Hudson River was never as great, never so new or well equipped as to-day. The vessel with the largest passenger capacity, or at least second largest (6,000 persons), is in operation on that river. The freight carried on the river amounts to over 8,000,000 tons a year by water. I put a factory at Troy because I could get by water express service at freight rates, loading machines on the boat in the evening and have them delivered in New York the next morning, while to ship the same material by railroad to New York would require three to five days by freight. Directly back from the river bank on either side are two of our fine highways. Neither the railroad nor the river meet all the needs of the men living on those roads. You might build the railroads up until they are 10 tracks wide, but you do not fully help the farmer 10 miles away to get his produce to market. And you might fill the river with steamers, and he may be still isolated. There must come something to his farm which transports his produce easily and systematically and in harmony with other methods in duplex action going and coming. So our friend the farmer must have the rural express or its equivalent, which comes to his door, which in the morning connects him up with all the round earth and brings him what he wants of the earth's products back to his door that night. I can not think of that except as a matter of common sense. It is a thing which has got to be, and in a very few years, at least, will be as accepted as such things as the rising of the sun and the setting of the sun. It will be considered normal. You will even find, if you have not already found, farms offered for sale on the basis of having a rural express coming and going on one side of it--perhaps on two sides of it as we get into it more thoroughly. The whole rural postal-delivery system was the promise and pledge of the rural express. What we do when we send the motor truck through the rural centers is to push the rural free-delivery and the parcel-post service just one step forward. I have had motor trucks put on the Pribilof Islands, in the Behring Sea. They are building the roads to run on before they can run on them. And there, 250 miles north of the Aleutian Islands, we can make motor trucks pay for themselves in a single year by the force they add in effective transportation. We have a seal rookery 13 or 14 miles from the village of St. Paul Island. We have not been able to kill seals there, because we could not get skins down to the village. Now a couple of motor trucks bring them down without the least difficulty, and in order to get the road there they carried down materials to build the road. So in the same way we have a great many fishery stations isolated. You can not put fish hatcheries in towns. We get them as far off as practicable. The problem is to get sufficient water and isolation, and so those stations are rather difficult to reach. In those places to-day we have put motor trucks. Here with these important stations 6, 8, 9, and 10 miles and sometimes more away, it was perfectly obvious that the best, simplest, and quickest means of access was necessary and for several years now we have been putting little Ford trucks in there, if you can call them trucks, and I presume some of you anyway still do. They have changed the effectiveness of the whole thing. That is all very simple. I imagine that one great difficulty in this world is that the simple things are sometimes very hard to bring about. It is true in a certain sense that if we bring to a man something that is difficult and complex it catches the mind by its very complexity and strangeness. But if we come to him and say that mud is one of his worst enemies it seems hard to him that it could be as bad as it really is, as he is sort of friendly toward the mud. So many are familiar with the automobile--not as familiar, I believe, as they are going to be--that it seems hard to think it can work as revolutionary a change in their life as it is going to do. But I am perfectly certain that there abide these three elements of transportation--railway, water way, and highway--that they are one, and that none of them will reach its full value to the community without the other, and that each is the friend of the other. * * * * * 
19759	----	BULLETIN No. 5 ADDRESS BY HONORABLE FRANKLIN K. LANE SECRETARY OF THE INTERIOR AT CONFERENCE OF REGIONAL CHAIRMEN OF THE HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE WASHINGTON, D.C. SEPTEMBER 17, 1918 [Illustration] RESOLUTION PASSED BY THE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE "_The Council of National Defense approves the widest possible use of the motor truck as a transportation agency, and requests the State Councils of Defense and other State authorities to take all necessary steps to facilitate such means of transportation, removing any regulations that tend to restrict and discourage such use._" WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1919 [Illustration: MAP SHOWING REGIONAL AREAS Highways Transport Committee Council of National Defense] _Recognizing the national value of our highways in relation to, and properly coordinated with, other existing transportation mediums, and more particularly the necessity for their immediate development that they might carry their share of the war burden, the Highways Transport Committee was appointed by, and forms a part of, the Council of National Defense._ _The object of the committee is to increase and render more effective all transportation over the highways as one of the means of strengthening the Nation's transportation system and relieving the railroads of part of the heavy short-haul freight traffic burden._ _National policies are directed from the headquarters of the national committee in Washington to the highways transport committees of the several State Councils of Defense. These State organizations, which by proper subdivisions reach down through the counties to the communities, are grouped together into 11 regional areas, as shown by the map used above. The State committees of the different areas are assisted by and are under the direct supervision of the 11 regional chairmen of the Highways Transport Committee, Council of National Defense._ COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE. WASHINGTON, D.C. ADDRESS BY HON. FRANKLIN K. LANE, SECRETARY OF THE INTERIOR, BEFORE THE CONFERENCE OF REGIONAL CHAIRMEN OF THE HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE, SEPTEMBER 17, 1918. I did not come to-day with the idea of bringing you anything new. On the contrary, I have come here to get the inspiration which association with those from the outside gives. There is no hope for this place unless we can keep in contact with the remainder of the United States. In isolation we think in a vacuum, and it is only when we know what you are thinking of on the outside that we get the impulse which leads to construction. I think I can say out of my knowledge of 12 years of administrative work in this city, that we have to look abroad, go up on the tops of the hills and see the great valleys of our country, before we know really what our policies should be. When we live alone or live in isolation and try to deal with things abstractly or theoretically we make mistakes. The problem that you deal with is one that I have never had any contact with, but I know this from my knowledge of history; that you can judge the civilization of a nation, of a people, of a continent, or of any part of a nation, by the character of its highways. If you will think over that proposition you will realize that what I have said is true, that those parts of this Nation are most backward, where people live most alone, where they develop those diseases of the mind which come from living alone, where they develop supreme discontent with what is done at Washington or what is done in their own State legislatures, where they are unhappy and discontented, and movements that make against the welfare of our country arise, are those parts where there are poor highways and consequently a lack of communication between the people. Our eyes are all turned at this time to the other side of the water. I suppose that there has never been a month in the history of the United States when so many people were so anxious to see the morning paper or the evening paper as during the past month. There never has been a time when we have been so thrilled to the very core of our beings. Achievements that those boys over there have made are things that will live in our memories. And why has it been possible for France to carry on for four years a successful war against the greatest military power that the world has ever seen? Because France had the benefit of the engineering skill and of the foresight of two men who are 1,800 years apart--Napoleon and Caesar. Those men built the roads of France. Without those roads, conceived and built originally by Caesar for the conquest of the Gauls and for the conquest of the Teutons, without the roads built by Napoleon to stand off the enemies of France and to make aggressions to the eastward, Paris would have fallen at least two years ago. So that you gentlemen who are engaged in the business of developing the highways of the country and putting them to greater use may properly conceive of yourselves as engaged in a very farsighted, important bit of statemanship, work that does not have its only concern as to the farmer of this country or the helping of freight movement during this winter alone, but may have consequences that will extend throughout the centuries. Take the instance of Verdun. Verdun would have fallen unquestionably if it had not been for the roads that Napoleon constructed and that France has maintained; for all the credit is not to go to the man who conceived and the man who constructed. This is one thing where we have been short always. One thing that the people of the United States do not realize. It is not sufficient to pay $25,000 a mile for a concrete foundation, but you must put aside 10 cents out of every dollar for the maintenance of these roads or your money has gone to waste and your conception is idle. And you gentlemen know, if you continue, as I hope you will, after the war, you will have not merely a function in the securing of the building of good roads, but will have a very great function in the maintaining of these roads as actual arteries in the system of transportation of the country. You remember that at Verdun the railroad was cut off, and Verdun was supported by the fact that she had trucks which could go 40 feet apart all night long over the great highway that had been built from Paris to the east. Now I saw my first national service in connection with the Interstate Commerce Commission and I was much impressed by the theory that the railroad men had, which was a very natural theory, arising out of their own experience and out of the fact that there was a new force in the world with which they were playing. Their conception was that the highway was a mere means of getting from the farm to the railroad; that the waterway was a mere means of carrying off the surplus waters from the hills to the oceans. The statement has often been made to me that there would never be an occasion when it would be necessary or possible to put into competition with the railroads the waterways of this country; that it would cost more to use those waterways or to use highways than it would to do the same transportation work by railroad. And they had obtained figures to show that under conditions of unlimited competition the Illinois Central, for instance, paralleling the Mississippi River, could do business at a cheaper rate than it could be transported by water, considering the cost of bringing it to the water station and unloading it at the other end. Now, as Mr. Chapin has said, a larger conception has come into the American mind--the conception of the utilization of all our resources. While the railroad has a great burden cast upon it; while it is the strong right arm in this work, still we must remember that the strong right arm must have fingers, and that there should be in a complete physical system a good left arm. The highways that you are interested in are more than interesting to me for another reason. I have thought of the men who will come back after the war. Every nation has had a problem to deal with the returning soldier. If you read Ferraro's history of Rome, you will find that one of the chief reasons why the republic of Rome went out of existence and the empire of Rome came into existence was because of the returned soldiers. They looked to their general to take care of them on their return, and their general found that the way to take care of them was to give them, as they said in those days, "bread and circuses," and so they reached over into Egypt, got the great wheat supply of that country, and provided the great circuses that are historical for the amusement of those people. The Emperor of Germany 10 years ago was asked why he was unwilling to agree to a demobilization of his forces or to a reduction of his army and he said because it would demoralize the industries of Germany. They could not reabsorb so many men without reducing wages and throwing upon the country so many unemployed that it would make against the welfare of the land. We will have that problem to deal with. The firm, strong position taken by the President in his note published yesterday indicates that he is ready to fight this thing out to a finish and that he will show to those on the other side that America has a determination to win, and that it is not a determination that fades quickly. If the Emperor of Germany has ever had a good look at a photograph of Woodrow Wilson, he has seen a prolongation of a chin that must have confirmed him in the belief that America does not take up a fight unless it puts it through; and we are to reach a military determination by whipping them until they say they have had enough. Now, when this thing is over, our men will begin to come back into the United States. But not all at once. We won't have three or four million men to deal with in a single month. We will have them slowly returning to us through a year or a year and a half. As those men come filtering in through our ports we ought to be able to meet every man at every port with the statement that he does not have to lie idle one single day. We ought to be able to say to the man, "Here is something that you can do at once. If your old position is not vacant, if you can not go home to the old place and take up the work that you were in, then the Government of the United States, in its wisdom, has provided something which you can do at wages upon which you can live well." And what should that be? The greatest problem that any country has, to my mind, is its own self-support. We have come to be independent in our resources, to be strong, and be respected. So long as we are industrially dependent, agriculturally dependent, somebody has a lever that he can use in a time of crisis, as against this nation. Long years ago we were the greatest of all agricultural people, and Thomas Jefferson wanted us to remain in that position. He thought that the safety and security of the United States lay in the fact that we would live on farms. When De Toquevile came over here in 1830 he said the reason democracy was a success in this country was because we were all practically living on farms, living on what we raised ourselves, and standing equally. To-day the tendency is away from the farm toward the city, toward industrial life, toward aggregations of people, away from the small town to the larger town, and from the larger town to the metropolis. People are being drawn from the farms, so that one-half of the arable land this side of the Mississippi is unused to-day; so that between here and New Orleans there are 40,000,000 acres of land privately owned and unused; so that in the great Northwest, Minnesota, Oregon, Washington, etc., there are 100,000,000 acres of cut-over lands that are practically unused; and we have a new nation practically in the undrained lands of our rivers and our bays and inlets, lands that are as rich as any that lie out of doors, as rich as the valley of the Nile or of the Euphrates. In the far western country, there are at least 15,000,000 acres of land that we can put under water. Under water, that land produces more than one crop a year, and that an exceptionally rich crop. We have been extending ourselves because of war in a great many different directions. The Government has taken to itself unprecedented and unthought-of powers because of the necessities of our condition. I say that to meet the problem of the returned soldier we ought to take advantage of this opportunity to do the work now that must eventually be done and reclaim these arid lands of the West. Turn the waters of the Colorado over the desert of Arizona, store those waters in the Grand River and in the Green River, and let them flow down at the right times on that desert so as to raise cotton and cantaloupes and alfalfa. Then come east and take the stumps from these cut-over lands. Do it not as a private enterprise, because that is a slow, slow process. Men are discouraged and disheartened when they look at the problem of pulling an Oregon fir stump out of the ground. It really requires large capital. Then come farther east and take these lands that are swamp, that need draining, and build ditches and dikes and put these lands into the service of America. This is what I call the making of the nation. That land should tie up with all other land. Means of communication should be a part of that general scheme. We should have as good roads between the little farms in Mississippi or in South Carolina or in Northern Minnesota as we have in Maryland or in California. There is a work--the work that I have in mind, and for which Congress has made a small and tentative appropriation--the work of surveying this country and seeing how many of this Nation's land resources have not been mobilized and how best they can be used for providing homes for these men who come back, as well as adding to the wealth of the world. There is a work that ties up directly with your work, because I want to have small communities in which men have small acreages of land, not to speculate with but to cultivate; and these acreages are to center in small communities where men can talk together and profit by their own mistakes and their own successes and where those small communities will be tied up with all neighboring communities, so that there will be easy access between all parts of the country. Good roads and a rural express must be had. If you can help the Government in building good roads for little money or show how a rural express can be most profitably developed, you will be helping in the making of a new America. And I can conceive of a United States that will be as rich per acre as France; in which the people will be divided into small communities, industrial communities as well as agricultural; for every one of these little places ought to have its own creamery, its own cannery. The farmer is the poorest man in the world to develop any kind of cooperative scheme. He needs assistance and is always hampered by the lack of capital. But now is our chance to see what can be done; to show it in the building of ideal communities, communities that have good houses, that have good sanitation, that are on good land where there is somebody who can direct them as to what should be planted and what should be avoided, communities which may be connected up with the world by highways, by developing rivers, and by railroads. Now, I think if there is one great fault that industrially we have been guilty of in the United States, it has been the effort to develop quantity at the expense of quality. We have been a wholesale Nation. We have had a continent that was rich beyond any precedent. We did not know what any acre of our land might produce. A man might go on it out in Oregon and think it was a fir land, think it was good for nothing but timber, and find first that it was the richest kind of dairying land, and find next that it contained a gold mine or a chrome mine. We have never known, and we do not know yet, what the riches of the United States are, and we won't know until we have put study and thought and money into the problem of making this country what it can be by the application of thought, energy and investment. The United States is not going to be after the war as it has been. That is a thing that you sober men of business are already thinking about. We are never going to return to the idea that was. The man that comes back from this war will be treated by us with distinguished consideration, because he has taken a risk that we have not taken; that we have not had the opportunity to take, I am sorry to say. But that man is going to insist upon larger opportunity for himself, and the largest opportunity that he wants is an opportunity to make himself independent, and he is going to have a conception of a social America that we have not had. This war is a leveling force. When we adopted the draft, under the leadership of that man over there (Senator Chamberlain), we did a thing that was of the deepest and most far-reaching consequence. We did a thing that put the millionaire's boy and the lawyer's boy and the Cabinet official's boy alongside of the bootblack and the farmer and the street-car driver. It was the most essentially democratic thing that this country has ever done, and the spirit of the draft is going to continue after this war. Those boys are always going to look upon each other as brothers in arms, sympathetic toward each other. Yesterday Mrs. Lane established a little hospital for convalescent soldiers, and as she was gathering up the 10 men she was taking into the hospital, one of the men from out West said: "Won't you take my chum? We left Colorado and went out to California together and took up a piece of land. When the war came on we went into the war together, and we fought together in France, and when we were making the charge together I saw him fall, struck by a bullet. I ran to pick him up and I got mine." Now, those two fellows are going to be tied together for life, and that is the relationship that will exist between all those men. We men who are in politics to-day have seen our day. They are going to take charge of the politics of the United States. They are going to take charge of the social problems. They are going to insist upon industrial as well as social equality. We know that this does not necessarily mean that the Nation must be run by them because they were soldiers, not unless they have the quality that gives them foresight and good sense. But now we should prepare for them. We must realize that these men are all comrades, that they are going to work together, and we ought to spread this feeling throughout the entire country. The fighting men themselves ought to get the feeling that we who have been left behind are also in the service of the country, trying to do something large for the making of this Nation along real lines. You know that there is a big man and a little man in each one of us; and the little man had his day. He was the selfish, egotistic, narrow, money-making fellow. Just as soon as this country went into the war the big man came out. The big man inside of us was challenged and he arose at once and responded. And so we found railroad presidents, and bankers, the automobile men, and the business men of the country coming down to Washington and saying we want our opportunity to help. It was not selfish; it was noble. And that spirit if carried out will make this country a new land in which these boys who come back will find they have been cared for; that helpfulness has come to take the place of indifference and cooperation to supplement individual initiative. * * * * * +--------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Typographical error corrected in text: | | Page 5: solider replaced with soldier | | | +--------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * 
19799	----	[Transcriber's Note: One obvious typographical error ("poulation" for "population") was corrected, but the remainder of the text was left as originally printed.] BULLETIN NO. 2 MAY, 1918 THE RURAL MOTOR EXPRESS TO CONSERVE FOODSTUFFS AND LABOR AND TO SUPPLY RURAL TRANSPORTATION HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE WASHINGTON, D. C. [Illustration] RESOLUTION PASSED BY THE COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. "_The Council of National Defense approves the widest possible use of the motor truck as a transportation agency, and requests the State Councils of Defense and other State authorities to take all necessary steps to facilitate such means of transportation, removing any regulations that tend to restrict and discourage such use._" WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1918 * * * * * COUNCIL OF NATIONAL DEFENSE. HIGHWAYS TRANSPORT COMMITTEE. WASHINGTON, D. C. THE RURAL MOTOR EXPRESS. The transportation burden on the railroads and highways of the country has been tremendously increased by the war. There is a larger load to be carried, of manufactured goods, raw materials, and foodstuffs. Not only has production of manufactures, raw materials, and farm products increased, but it is now necessary to transport a much larger proportion of these goods over long distances. The burden is further increased by the fact that we have removed across the sea, 3,000 miles away, a considerable part of our population, which must be provisioned and maintained. These men were in our Army camps last winter. This year there are other men in these camps, and we must handle goods and foodstuffs not only to these 30 new cities but to a great population 3,000 miles away. It is absolutely necessary to utilize our facilities to the maximum and to extend the use of the highways by the more efficient use of motor vehicles which can operate independent of fixed lines or terminals where congestion of traffic is likely to occur. The motor truck can help the railroad by reducing the short-haul load, and also act as a feeder line in sections far removed from market. Added to the increased loads of goods to be transported is the fact that man power must be conserved. Heretofore the farmer has done his own hauling to market, but adoption of the rural motor express will enable him to delegate his hauling and to devote his own time to farm operations. An enormous waste of time and labor of both men and teams can be prevented by consolidating the small loads from a number of farms into a single load to be carried by a motor truck. In many localities local food supplies are in need of development. A better use must be made of agricultural lands in the immediate vicinity of population centers. It improves the business of the local community and adds to the total food supply of the country. The improvement of marketing facilities through the opening of regular daily traffic to market centers and shipping points is a most effective agency in encouraging food production. We have, therefore, three outstanding facts that demand especial attention be given to the increased use of the highways for rural transportation: 1. The increased volume of foodstuffs to be hauled. 2. The need for more labor on farms. 3. The need to encourage local food production. =The Purpose of Rural Motor Express.= The motor truck has demonstrated its adaptability to the hauling of farm products. It is dependable wherever the roads are capable of carrying its load. The use of the motor truck for farm transport is growing rapidly and in the vicinity of many cities regular routes are now maintained. The purpose of the organization of rural express on a national scale is to bring to agricultural communities throughout the country an understanding of the greater benefits to be derived from regular daily service over the main highways from farm to city and from city to farm. By "Rural Motor Express" is meant the use of the motor truck in regular daily service, over a fixed route, with a definite schedule of stops and charges, gathering farm produce, milk, live stock, eggs, etc., and delivering them to the city dealer and on the return trip carrying merchandise, machinery, supplies, etc., for farmers and others along the route. This service amounts to a collection and delivery that comes to the farmer's door with the same regularity that the trolley car passes over its tracks. =The Plan of Organization.= The Council of National Defense adopted the following resolution on March 14, 1918: The Council of National Defense approves the widest possible use of the motor truck as a transportation agency, and requests the State Council of Defense and other State authorities to take all necessary steps to facilitate such means of transportation, removing any regulations that tend to restrict and discourage such use. The highways transport committee of the Council of National Defense is charged to carry out the purpose of this resolution. The several State councils of defense have been asked to appoint highways transport committees, or to delegate the organization of rural express to some committee which will have charge of the development of the work within the State. These State committees will in turn further the work through local organizations. =Indorsements of Rural Express.= The Council of National Defense approved the widest possible use of the motor truck in its resolution of March 14, 1918. The Post Office Department has demonstrated the value of motor-truck transportation through experimental lines of parcel-post trucks now in operation in several of the Eastern States. =The Need.= The United States Food Administration has approved the plan in the following statement by the Food Administrator: The development of the rural motor express idea, in my opinion, is in the line of progress and should redound to the benefit of the producer, the consumer, and the railroads. This means of transportation should facilitate delivery, conserve labor, conserve foodstuffs, and should effect delivery of food in better condition. The United States Department of Agriculture through its bureau of markets has inaugurated an investigation of the efficiency of motor-truck transportation in the marketing of farm produce. The United States Department of Labor through its employment service urges the adoption of motor-truck transportation facilities in order to conserve the time of men in farming neighborhoods during the period of planting, cultivation, and harvest, so as to relieve the farm labor shortage. The preliminary surveys by the highways transport committee in sections of Maryland and Virginia have shown that farmers and merchants enthusiastically indorse the plan and wherever rural motor express lines have been properly developed they have received the support of the communities which they serve. =Present Development of Rural Express.= The rural express is in successful operation in the vicinity of many of the larger cities. The development of this system of transportation has been particularly rapid in Maryland and a survey of existing routes in this State has been made by the highways transport committee and shows the general possibilities of the idea. A detailed survey was made of 22 routes, leading from agricultural sections into Baltimore, Md., and Washington, D. C. On these routes 30 trucks were found in operation; the total capacity of these trucks was 73 tons; the mileage traversed daily was 1,574 miles; the average length of the routes was about 50 miles for the round trip. Most of these routes are operated by truck owners living at the outer terminal, making daily round trips into the marketing center. Many of these routes are operated by farmers who first learned the advantages of motor-truck transportation by using trucks for their individual needs. These lines have been developed on a sane, practical basis without any special promotion or encouragement from any state or national organization. The trucks start at a small town, gather the produce of farmers and merchants along the road to the city, deliver it at the market, secure a return load from city merchants, including orders by farmers, and return to the country terminal, delivering the orders along the route. These lines have developed chiefly on the roads of the state road system where the condition of the roads facilitate the use of trucks. Many farmers living short distances away from the rural express route bring their milk and produce to a point on this route with horse-drawn buggies and wagons and these constitute feeders to the lines. A preliminary survey for the State of California has been made, showing an extensive use of motor trucks for passenger, freight, and express hauling throughout that state. Over 136 separate lines were found; some traversing routes as long as 125 miles on daily trips. Large quantities of farm produce are handled, and charges are made according to published rates. The excellent highways of California made it possible for these lines to develop rapidly. The detailed survey among patrons of a number of these routes discovers the fact that there are three great economic advantages in this method of transportation: 1. Food production is stimulated since the regular outlet to market encourages many farmers to expand production which they would not be justified in doing if they were obliged to transport their own produce to market. 2. Shortage of labor is greatly offset from the fact that the system leaves the farmer on the farm and his time is not consumed in trips to market. 3. There is immediate improvement in the efficiency of the farm since supplies, machinery, and repairs can be secured promptly from city distributers of fertilizers and farm machinery. From the national standpoint these routes aid in several ways: 1. They relieve the railroads of local freight which permits car-load lot of materials and foodstuffs from distant points to enter the terminals. 2. They help to avoid the necessity for local freight embargoes. The need for the system of carrying goods to market without requiring men and teams is generally recognized by farmers and where production of the individual farmer has justified the purchase of a motor truck, the adoption has been very rapid during the past few years. On many farms, however, the quantity of production is not sufficient to justify the investment in a truck by the individual farmer if he must maintain his teams for farm power. The use of the rural express with its greater speed enables the farmer to operate the same or an increased acreage with fewer horses, making more land available for food production which was previously needed to grow grain and hay for teams. In many instances, the introduction of rural express has enabled farmers to engage in the production of milk which requires daily marketing. The rural express greatly aids the country merchants in carrying more complete stocks of goods; in filling special orders promptly, and in avoiding temporary shortage of staples due to delayed shipments or embargoes on the railroad. In many instances the country merchants have reported that their business has been greatly improved because of the daily delivery service from wholesale centers. =Expansion to a National System.= The success of existing lines of rural express is convincing evidence that the expansion of the system is an immediate necessity, both for its value in meeting the present emergency and as a means of permanently improving rural transportation. What has already developed becomes an integral part of our national transportation system. The present strain on our transportation facilities has emphasized our need for improved means of internal communication not only between cities, but also reaching out into every agricultural community. The rural motor express is not, however, a development to meet an emergency only, but rather an expansion of transportation facilities to meet the growing demands, to bring the consumer in closer touch with the producer; to relieve the producer of the burden of marketing his produce and permit him to remain on the land where his labor is of highest value to the community. =The Organization of New Routes.= The state highways transport committees are organizing local committees in all communities where there appears to be the need for improved rural transportation. The local committee first secures co-operation of the local press and leading organizations interested in transportation and food supplies. Among the various groups who might be interested are the following: Chambers of commerce, boards of trade, merchants' associations, local food administrators, farmers' clubs, county agricultural agents, dealers in farm implements, feed, fertilizers, grain, and other farm produce. Meetings of the representatives of these organizations are held to explain the plan of rural express and to make general survey of local needs. Among the facts that are brought out at such meetings are the following: 1. Experience of existing motor-truck lines in the locality. 2. Instances of localities now lacking such facilities. 3. Conditions of highways in such localities. 4. Labor shortage among farmers. 5. Transportation facilities of country merchants from wholesale centers. After a general survey of the country or district has been made the local committee conducts an intensive survey by means of mailed questionnaires or personal visits among farms and merchants along route of prospective lines. Lists of names of farmers and merchants are secured through county agricultural agents or their local organizations. When the desirability of establishing a new route for a certain section has been determined the committee proceeds to consult owners of trucks, farmers, and other private owners to locate a man to establish the route. Questions of scale of charges, the schedule of the trips, character of produce to be carried, etc., are worked out by the committee on the basis of experience of existing lines in the same community, or other lines which have been surveyed by the state committee. Detailed suggestions on conducting these local surveys, methods of making surveys through questionnaires, questions concerning roads, charges, etc., will be furnished by the highways transport committee of the Council of National Defense through the state committees. The plan of organization is to adapt the service as perfectly as possible to local requirements, utilizing at the same time the experience of communities throughout the country as gathered by state and national committees. 
33706	----	HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 15 [Illustration: General Roy Stone (_Father of the good-roads movement in the United States_)] HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 15 The Future of Road-making in America A Symposium BY ARCHER BUTLER HULBERT and others _With Illustrations_ [Illustration] THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY CLEVELAND, OHIO 1905 COPYRIGHT, 1905 BY THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 11 I. THE FUTURE OF ROAD-MAKING IN AMERICA 15 II. GOVERNMENT COÖPERATION IN OBJECT-LESSON ROAD WORK 67 III. GOOD ROADS FOR FARMERS 81 IV. THE SELECTION OF MATERIALS FOR MACADAM ROADS 170 V. STONE ROADS IN NEW JERSEY 190 ILLUSTRATIONS I. PORTRAIT OF GENERAL ROY STONE (father of the good-roads movement in the United States) _Frontispiece_ II. A GOOD-ROADS TRAIN 59 III. SAMPLE STEEL TRACK FOR COMMON ROADS (showing portrait of Hon. Martin Dodge) 66 IV. TYPICAL MACADAM ROAD NEAR BRYN MAWR, PENNSYLVANIA 83 V. A STUDY IN GRADING 89 VI. SAND CLAY ROAD IN RICHLAND COUNTY, SOUTH CAROLINA 115 VII. GRAVEL ROAD NEAR SOLDIERS' HOME, DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA 127 VIII. OYSTER-SHELL OBJECT-LESSON ROAD 137 IX. EARTH AND MACADAM ROADS 168 PREFACE The present volume on the Future of Road-making in America presents representative opinions, from laymen and specialists, on the subject of the road question as it stands today. After the author's sketch of the question as a whole in its sociological as well as financial aspects, there follows the Hon. Martin Dodge's paper on "Government Coöperation in Object-lesson Road Work." The third chapter comprises a reprint of Hon. Maurice O. Eldridge's careful article, "Good Roads for Farmers," revised by the author for this volume. Professor Logan Waller Page's paper on "The Selection of Materials for Macadam Roads" composes chapter four, and E. G. Harrison's article on "Stone Roads in New Jersey" concludes the book, being specially valuable because of the advanced position New Jersey has taken in the matter of road-building. For illustrations to this volume the author is indebted to the Office of Public Road Inquiries, Hon. Martin Dodge, Director. A. B. H. MARIETTA, OHIO, May 31, 1904. The Future of Road-making in America CHAPTER I THE FUTURE OF ROAD-MAKING IN AMERICA In introducing the subject of the future of road-making in America, it may first be observed that there is to be a future in road-building on this continent. We have today probably the poorest roads of any civilized nation; although, considering the extent of our roads, which cover perhaps a million and a half miles, we of course have the best roads of any nation of similar age. As we have elsewhere shown, the era of railway building eclipsed the great era of road and canal building in the third and fourth decades of the old century, and it is interesting to note that freight rates on American railways today are cheaper than on any railways in any other country of the world. To move a ton of freight in England one hundred miles today, you pay two dollars and thirty cents; in Germany, two dollars; in France, one dollar and seventy-five cents; in "poor downtrodden" Russia, one dollar and thirty cents. But in America it costs on the average only seventy-two cents. This is good, but it does not by any means answer all the conditions; the average American farm is located today--even with our vast network of railways--at least ten miles from a railroad station. Now railway building has about reached its limit so far as mileage is concerned in this country; in the words of Stuyvesant Fish, president of the Illinois Central Railroad Company, we have "in the United States generally, a sufficiency of railroads." Thus the average farm is left a dozen miles from a railway, and in all probability will be that far away a century from now. And note: seventy-five per cent of the commerce of the world starts for its destination on wagon roads, and we pay annually in the United States six hundred million dollars freightage to get our produce over our highways from the farms to the railways. Let me restate these important facts: the average American farm is ten miles from a railway; the railways have about reached their limit of growth territorially; and we pay six hundred million dollars every year to get the seventy-five per cent of our raw material and produce from our farms to our railways. This is the main proposition of the good roads problem, and the reason why the road question is to be one of the great questions of the next half century. The question is, How much can we save of this half a billion dollars, at the least expenditure of money and in the most beneficial way? In this problem, as in many, the most important phase is the one most difficult to study and most difficult to solve. It is as complex as human life itself. It is the question of good roads as they affect the social and moral life of our rural communities. It is easy to talk of bad roads costing a half billion dollars a year--the answer should be that of Hood's--"O God! that bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap." You cannot count in terms of the stock exchange the cost to this land of poor roads; for poor roads mean the decay of country living, the abandonment of farms and farm-life, poor schools, poor churches, and homes stricken with a social poverty that drives the young men and girls into the cities. You cannot estimate the cost to this country, in blood, brain, and muscle, of the hideous system of public roads we have possessed in the decade passed. Look at any of our cities to the men who guide the swift rush of commercial, social, and religious affairs and you will find men whose birthplaces are not preparing another such generation of men for the work of the future. For instance, bad roads and good schools are incompatible. The coming generation of strong men and strong women is crying out now for good roads. "There is a close and permanent relation," said Alabama's superintendent of education, "existing between good public roads and good public schools. There can be no good country schools in the absence of good country roads. Let us be encouraged by this movement looking toward an improvement in road-building and road-working. I see in it a better day for the boys and girls who must look to the country schools for citizenship." "I have been longing for years," said President Jesse of the University of Missouri, "to stump the capital state, if necessary, in favor of the large consolidated schoolhouse rather than the single schoolhouses sitting at the crossroads. But the wagons could not get two hundred yards in most of our counties. Therefore I have had to smother my zeal, hold my tongue, and wait for the consolidated schoolhouse until Missouri wakes to the necessity of good roads. Then not only shall we have consolidated schoolhouses, but also the principal of the school and his wife will live in the school building, or in one close by. The library and reading-room of the school will be the library and reading-room of the neighborhood.... The main assembly room of the consolidated schoolhouse will be an assembly place for public lectures.... I am in favor of free text-books, but I tell you here and now that free text-books are a trifle compared with good roads and the consolidated schoolhouse." It is found that school attendance in states where good roads abound is from twenty-five to fifty per cent greater than in states which have not good roads. How long will it take for the consolidated schoolhouse and increased and regular attendance to be worth half a billion dollars to American men and women of the next generation? This applies with equal pertinency to what I might call the consolidated church; good roads make it possible for a larger proportion of country residents to enjoy the superior advantages of the splendid city churches; in fact good roads have in certain instances been held guilty of destroying the little country church. This could be true within only a small radius of the cities, and the advantages to be gained outweigh, I am sure, the loss occasioned by the closing of small churches within a dozen miles of our large towns and cities--churches which, in many cases, have only occasional services and are a constant financial drain on the city churches. Farther out in the country, good roads will make possible one strong, healthy church where perhaps half a dozen weak organizations are made to lead a precarious existence because bad roads make large congregations impossible throughout the larger part of the year. This also applies to city schools, libraries, hospitals, museums, and lyceums. Good roads will place these advantages within reach of millions of country people who now know little or nothing of them. Once beyond driving distance of the cities, good roads will make it possible for thousands to reach the suburban railways and trolley lines. Who can estimate in mere dollars these advantages to the quality of American citizenship a century hence? American farms are taxed by the government and pay one-half of the seven hundred million dollars it takes yearly to operate this government. After receiving one-half, what per cent does the government return to them? Only ten per cent. Ninety per cent goes to the direct or indirect benefit of those living in our cities. Where does the government build its fine buildings, where does it spend its millions on rivers and harbors? How much does it expend to ease this burden of six hundred millions which lies so largely on the farmers of America? A few years ago a law was passed granting $50,000 to investigate a plan to deliver mail on rural delivery routes to our farmers and country residents. The law was treated about as respectfully as the long-headed Jesse Hawley who wrote a series of articles advocating the building of the Erie Canal; a certain paper printed a few of them, but the editor sent the remainder back saying he could not use them--they were making his sheet an object of ridicule. Eighteen years later the canal was built and in the first year brought in a revenue of $492,664. So with the first Rural Free Delivery appropriation--the postmaster general to whose hands that first $50,000 was entrusted for experimental purposes, refused to try it and sent the money back to the treasury. Today the Rural Free Delivery is an established fact, of immeasurable benefit; and if any of the appropriations for it are not expended it is not because they are being sent back to the treasury by scrupulous officials. Rural delivery routes diverge from our towns and cities and give the country people the advantages of a splendid post office system. Good roads to these cities would give them a score of advantages where now they have but this one. Like rural delivery it may seem impracticable, but in a short space of time America will leap forward in the front rank of the nations in point of good highways. An execrable road system, besides bringing poor schools and poor churches, has rendered impossible any genuine community of social interests among country people. At the very season when the farm work is light and social intercourse feasible, at that season the highways have been impassable. To this and the poor schools and churches may be attributed the saddest and really most costly social revolution in America in the past quarter of a century. The decline of country living must in the nature of things prove disastrously costly to any nation. "The roar of the cannon and the gleam of swords," wrote that brilliant apostle of outdoor life, Dr. W. H. H. Murray, "is less significant than the destruction of New England homesteads, the bricking up of New England fireplaces and the doing away with the New England well-sweep; for these show a change in the nature of the circulation itself, and prove that the action of the popular heart has been interrupted, modified and become altogether different from what it was." In the popular mind the benefits of country living are common only as a fad; the boy who goes to college and returns to the farm again is one of a thousand. Who wants to be landlocked five months of the year, without social advantages? Good roads, in one generation, would accomplish a social revolution throughout the United States that would greatly tend to better our condition and brighten the prospect of future strength. President Winston of the North Carolina State College of Agriculture said: "It might be demonstrated beyond a reasonable doubt that bad roads are unfavorable to matrimony and increase of population." Seven of the most stalwart lads and beautiful lasses of Greece were sent each year to Crete to be sacrificed to the Minotaur; bad roads in America send thousands of boys and girls into our cities to the Minotaurs of evil because conditions in the country do not make for the social happiness for which they naturally yearn. Thus we may hint at the greater, more serious, phase of the road problem. Beside it, the financial feature of the problem can have no place; the farm has been too much to the American nation, its product of boys and girls has been too eternally precious to the cause of liberty for which our nation stands, to permit a system of highways on this continent which will make it a place where now in the twentieth century foreigners, only, can be happy. The sociological side of the road question is of more moment today in this country, so far as the health of our body politic in the future is concerned, than nine-tenths of the questions most prominent in the two political platforms that come annually before the people. William Jennings Bryan, when addressing the Good Roads Convention at St. Louis in 1903, said: "It is a well-known fact, or a fact easily ascertained, that the people in the country, while paying their full share of county, state, and federal taxes, receive as a rule only the general benefits of government, while the people in the cities have, in addition to the protection afforded by the Government, the advantage arising from the expenditure of public moneys in their midst. The county seat of a county, as a rule, enjoys the refreshing influence of an expenditure of county money out of proportion to its population. The capital of a state and the city where the state institutions are located, likewise receive the benefit of an expenditure of public money out of proportion to their population. When we come to consider the distribution of the moneys collected by the Federal Government, we find that the cities, even in a larger measure, monopolize the incidental benefits that arise from the expenditure of public moneys. "The appropriations of the last session of Congress amounted to $753,484,018, divided as follows: Agriculture $ 5,978,160 Army 78,138,752 Diplomatic and consular service 1,968,250 District of Columbia 8,647,497 Fortifications 7,188,416 Indians 8,512,950 Legislative, executive, and judicial departments 27,595,958 Military Academy 563,248 Navy 81,877,291 Pensions $ 139,847,600 Post Office Department 153,401,409 Sundry Civil 82,722,955 Deficiencies 21,561,572 Permanent annual 132,589,820 Miscellaneous 3,250,000 "It will be seen that the appropriation for the Department of Agriculture was insignificant when compared with the total appropriations--less than one per cent. The appropriations for the Army and Navy alone amounted to twenty-five times the sum appropriated for the Department of Agriculture. An analysis of the expenditures of the Federal Government will show that an exceedingly small proportion of the money raised from all the people gets back to the farmers directly; how much returns indirectly it is impossible to say, but certain it is that the people who live in the cities receive by far the major part of the special benefits that come from the showering of public money upon the community. The advantage obtained locally from government expenditures is so great that the contests for county seats and state capitals usually exceed in interest, if not in bitterness, the contests over political principles and policies. So great is the desire to secure an appropriation of money for local purposes that many will excuse a Congressman's vote on either side of any question if he can but secure the expenditure of a large amount of public money in his district. "I emphasize this because it is a fact to which no reference has been made. The point is that the farmer not only pays his share of the taxes, but more than his share, yet very little of what he pays gets back to him. "People in the city pay not only less than their share, as a rule, but get back practically all of the benefits that come from the expenditure of the people's money. Let me show you what I mean when I say that the farmer pays more than his share. The farmer has visible property, and under any form of direct taxation visible property pays more than its share. Why? Because the man with visible property always pays. If he has an acre of land the assessor can find it. He can count the horses and cattle.... The farmer has nothing that escapes taxation; and, in all direct taxation, he not only pays on all he has, but the farmer who has visible property has to pay a large part of the taxes that ought to be paid by the owners of invisible property, who escape taxation. I repeat, therefore, that the farmer not only pays more than his share of all direct taxation, but that when you come to expend public moneys you do not spend them on the farms, as a rule. You spend them in the cities, and give the incidental benefits to the people who live in the cities. "When indirect taxation is considered, the farmer's share is even more, because when you come to collect taxes through indirection and on consumption, you make people pay not in proportion to what they have but in proportion to what they need, and God has so made us that the farmer needs as much as anybody else, even though he may not have as much with which to supply his needs as other people. In our indirect taxation, therefore, for the support of the Federal Government, the farmers pay even more out of proportion to their wealth and numbers. We should remember also that when we collect taxes through consumption we make the farmer pay not only on that which is imported, but upon much of that which is produced at home. Thus the farmer's burden is not measured by what the treasury receives, but is frequently many times what the treasury receives. Thus under indirect taxation the burden upon the farmer is greater than it ought to be; yet when you trace the expenditure of public moneys distributed by the Federal Government you find that even in a larger measure special benefits go to the great cities and not to the rural communities. "The improvement of the country roads can be justified also on the ground that the farmer, the first and most important of the producers of wealth, ought to be in position to hold his crop and market it at the most favorable opportunity, whereas at present he is virtually under compulsion to sell it as soon as it is matured, because the roads may become impassable at any time during the fall, winter, or spring. Instead of being his own warehouseman, the farmer is compelled to employ middlemen, and share with them the profits upon his labor. I believe, as a matter of justice to the farmer, he ought to have roads that will enable him to keep his crop and take it to the market at the best time, and not place him in a position where they can run down the price of what he has to sell during the months he must sell, and then, when he has disposed of it, run the price up and give the speculator what the farmer ought to have. The farmer has a right to insist upon roads that will enable him to go to town, to church, to the schoolhouse, and to the homes of his neighbors, as occasion may require; and, with the extension of rural mail delivery, he has additional need for good roads in order that he may be kept in communication with the outside world, for the mail routes follow the good roads. "A great deal has been said, and properly so, in regard to the influence of good roads upon education. In the convention held at Raleigh, North Carolina, the account of which I had the pleasure of reading, great emphasis was placed upon the fact that you can not have a school system such as you ought to have unless the roads are in condition for the children to go to school. While we are building great libraries in the great cities we do not have libraries in the country; and there ought to be a library in every community. Instead of laying upon the farmer the burden of buying his own books, we ought to make it possible for the farmers to have the same opportunity as the people in the city to use books in common, and thus economize on the expense of a library. I agree with Professor Jesse in regard to the consolidation of schoolhouses in such a way as to give the child in the country the same advantages which the child in the city has. We have our country schools, but it is impossible in any community to have a well-graded school with only a few pupils, unless you go to great expense. In cities, when a child gets through the graded school he can remain at home, and, without expense to himself or his parents, go on through the high school. But if the country boy or girl desires to go from the graded school to the high school, as a rule it is necessary to go to the county seat and there board with some one; so the expense to the country child is much greater than to the child in the city. I was glad, therefore, to hear Professor Jesse speak of such a consolidation of schools as will give to the children in the country advantages equal to those enjoyed by the children of the city. "And as you study this subject, you find it reaches out in every direction; it touches us at every vital point. What can be of more interest to us than the schooling of our children? What can be of more interest to every parent than bringing the opportunity of educational instruction within the reach of every child? It does not matter whether a man has children himself or not.... Every citizen of a community is interested in the intellectual life of that community. Sometimes I have heard people complain that they were overburdened with taxes for the education of other people's children. My friends, the man who has no children can not afford to live in a community where there are children growing up in ignorance; the man with none has the same duty as the man with many, barring the personal pride of the parent. I say, therefore, that anything that contributes to the general diffusion of knowledge, anything that makes more educated boys and girls throughout our country, is a matter of intense interest to every citizen, whether he be the father of a family or not; whether he lives in the country or in the town. "And ought not the people have the opportunity to attend church? I am coming to believe that what we need in this country, even more than education of the intellect, is the education of the moral side of our nature. I believe, with Jefferson, that the church and the state should be separate. I believe in religious freedom, and I would not have any man's conscience fettered by act of law; but I do believe that the welfare of this nation demands that man's moral nature shall be educated in keeping with his brain and with his body. In fact, I have come to define civilization as the harmonious development of the body, the mind, and the heart. We make a mistake if we believe that this nation can fulfil its high destiny and mission either with mere athletes or mere scholars. We need the education of the moral sense; and if these good roads will enable men, women, and children to go more frequently to church, and there hear expounded the gospel and receive inspiration therefrom, that alone is reason enough for good roads. "There is a broader view of this question, however, that deserves consideration. The farm is, and always has been, conspicuous because of the physical development it produces, the intellectual strength it furnishes, and the morality it encourages. The young people in the country find health and vigor in the open air and in the exercise which farm life gives; they acquire habits of industry and economy; their work gives them opportunity for thought and reflection; their contact with nature teaches them reverence, and their environment promotes good habits. The farms supply our colleges with their best students and they also supply our cities with leaders in business and professional life. In the country there is neither great wealth nor great poverty--'the rich and the poor meet together' and recognize that 'the Lord is the father of them all.' There is a fellowship, and, to use the word in its broadest sense, a democracy in the country that is much needed today to temper public opinion and protect the foundations of free government. A larger percentage of the people in the country than in the city study public questions, and a smaller percentage are either corrupt or are corrupted. It is important, therefore, for the welfare of our government and for the advancement of our civilization that we make life upon the farm as attractive as possible. Statistics have shown the constant increase in the urban population and the constant decrease in the rural population from decade to decade. Without treading upon controversial ground or considering whether this trend has been increased by legislation hostile to the farm, it will be admitted that the government is in duty bound to guard jealously the interests of the rural population, and, as far as it can, make farm life inviting. In the employment of modern conveniences the city has considerably outstripped the country, and naturally so, for in a densely populated community the people can by coöperation supply themselves with water, light, and rapid transit at much smaller cost than they can in a sparsely settled country. But it is evident that during the last few years much has been done to increase the comforts of the farm. In the first place, the rural mail delivery has placed millions of farmers in daily communication with the world. It has brought not only the letter but the newspaper to the door. Its promised enlargement and extension will make it possible for the wife to order from the village store and have her purchases delivered by the mail-carrier. The telephone has also been a great boon to the farmer. It lessens by one-half the time required to secure a physician in case of accident or illness--an invention which every mother can appreciate. The extension of the electric-car line also deserves notice. It is destined to extend the borders of the city and to increase the number of small farms at the expense of flats and tenement houses. The suburban home will bring light and hope to millions of children. "But after all this, there still remains a pressing need for better country roads. As long as mud placed an embargo upon city traffic, the farmer could bear his mud-made isolation with less complaint, but with the improvement of city streets and with the establishment of parks and boulevards, the farmer's just demands for better roads find increasing expression." The late brilliant congressman, Hon. Thomas H. Tongue of Oregon, left on record a few paragraphs on the sociological effect of good roads that ought to be preserved: "Good roads do not concern our pockets only. They may become the instrumentalities for improved health, increased happiness and pleasure, for refining tastes, strengthening, broadening, and elevating the character. The toiler in the great city must have rest and recreation. Old and young, and especially the young, with character unformed, must and will sweeten the daily labor with some pleasure. It is not the hours of industry, but the hours devoted to pleasure, that furnish the devil his opportunity. It is not while we are at work but while we are at play that temptations steal over the senses, put conscience to sleep, despoil manhood, and destroy character. Healthful and innocent recreations and pleasure are national needs and national blessings. They are among the most important instrumentalities of moral reform. They are as essential to purity of mind and soul as to healthfulness of body. Out beyond the confines of the city, with its dust and dirt and filth, morally and physically, these are to be found, and good roads help to find them. What peace and inspiration may come from flowers and music, brooks and waterfalls! How the mountains pointing heavenward, yesterday battling with storms, today bathed with sunshine, bid you stand firm, walk erect, look upward, cherish hope, and for light and guidance to call upon the Creator of all light and of all wisdom! How such scenes as these kindle the imagination of the poet, quicken and enlarge the conception of the artist, fire the soul of the orator, purify and elevate us all! But if love of action rather than contemplation and reflection tempts you, how the blood thrills and the spirits rise as one springs lightly into the saddle, caresses the slender neck of an equine beauty, grasps firmly the reins, bids farewell to the impurities of the city, and dashes into the hills and the valleys and the mountains to commune with nature and nature's God. Or what joy more exquisite than with pleasant companionship to dash along the smooth highway, drawn by a noble American trotter? What poor city scenes can so inspire poetic feeling, can so increase the love of the beautiful, can so elevate and broaden and strengthen the character, and so inspire us with reverence for the great Father of us all? But for the full enjoyment of such pleasures good roads are indispensable. "Another blessing to come with good roads will be the stimulus and encouragements to rural life, farm life. The present tendency of population to rush into the great cities makes neither for the health nor the character, the intelligence nor the morals of the nation. It has been said that no living man can trace his ancestry on both sides to four generations of city residents. The brain and the brawn and the morals of the city are constantly replenished from the country. The best home life is upon the farm, and the most sacred thing in America is the American home. It lies at the foundation of our institutions, of our health, of our character, our prosperity, our happiness, here and hereafter. The snares and pitfalls set for our feet are not near the home. The pathways upon which stones are hardest and thorns sharpest are not those that lead to the sacred spot hallowed by a father's love and a mother's prayers. The bravest and best of men, the purest and holiest women, are those who best love, cherish, and protect the home. God guard well the American home, and this done, come all the powers of darkness and they shall not prevail against us. Fatherhood and motherhood are nowhere more sacred, more holy, or better beloved than upon the farm. The ties of brotherhood and sisterhood are nowhere more sweet or tender. The fair flower of patriotism there reaches its greatest perfection. Every battlefield that marks the world's progress, the victory of liberty over tyranny or right over wrong, has been deluged with the blood of farmers. He evades neither the taxgatherer nor the recruiting officer. He shirks the performance of no public duty. In the hour of its greatest needs our country never called for help upon its stalwart yeomen when the cry was unheeded. The sons and daughters of American farmers are filling the seminaries and colleges and universities of the land. From the American farm home have gone in the past, as they are going now, leaders in literature, the arts and sciences, presidents of great universities, the heads of great industrial enterprises, governors of states, and members of Congress. They have filled the benches of the supreme court, the chairs of the cabinet, and the greatest executive office in the civilized world. Our greatest jurist, our greatest soldier, our greatest orators, Webster and Clay, our three greatest presidents, Washington, Lincoln, and McKinley, were the product of rural homes. The great presidents which Virginia has given to the nation, whose monuments are all around us, whose remains rest in your midst, whose fame is immortal, drew life and inspiration from rural homes. The typical American today is the American farmer. The city life, with its bustle and stir, its hurry and rush, its feverish anxiety for wealth, position, and rank in society, its fretting over ceremonies and precedents, is breaking down the health and intellect and the morals of its inhabitants. These must be replenished from the rural home. Whatever shall tend to create a love for country life, to decrease the rush for the city, instil a desire to dwell in the society of nature, will make for the health, the happiness, the refinement, the moral and intellectual improvement of the people. Nothing will contribute more to this than the improvement of our common roads, to facilitate the means of communication between one section of the country and the other, and between all and the city." * * * * * Turning now from the high plane of the social and moral effect of good roads, let us look at the financial side of the question. Good roads pay well. In urging good roads in Virginia, an official of the Southern Railway said that if good roads improved the value of lands only one dollar per acre, the gain to the state by the improvement of all the roads would be twenty-five million dollars. Yet this is an inconceivably low estimate; lands upon improved roads advance in value from four to twenty dollars per acre. Virginia could therefore expect a benefit from improved highways of at least one hundred million dollars--more than enough to improve her roads many times over. Indeed this matter of the increase in value of land occasioned by good roads can hardly be overestimated. Near all of our large towns and cities the land will advance until it is worth per foot what it was formerly worth per acre. Take Mecklenburg County, North Carolina. Beginning in 1880 to macadamize three or four miles of road a year with an annual fund of $10,000, the county now has over a hundred miles of splendid roads; the county seat has increased in population from 5,000 to 30,000. "I know of a thirty-acre farm," said President Barringer of the University of Virginia, a native of that county, "that cost ten dollars an acre, and forty-six dollars an acre has been refused for it, and yet not a dollar has been put on it, not even to fertilize it. Some of the farms five and six miles from town have quadrupled in value." In Alabama the same thing has been found true. "The result of building these roads," said Mayor Drennen of Birmingham, "is that the property adjoining them has more than doubled in value." That wise financier, D. F. Francis, President of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, when suggesting that Missouri would do well to bond herself for one hundred million to build good roads, said: "The average increase in the value of the lands in Missouri would be at least five dollars per acre." Taking President Francis at his word, the difference between the value of Missouri before and after the era of good roads would buy up the four hundred and eighty-four state banks in Missouri eleven times over. What President Francis estimates Missouri would be worth with good roads over and above what her farms are now worth would buy all the goods that the city of St. Louis produces in a year. In other words, the estimated gain to Missouri would be more than two hundred and twenty million dollars. Passing the increased value of lands, look at the equally vital question of increased values of crops. Take first the crops that would be raised on lands not cultivated today but which would be cultivated in a day of good roads. Look at Virginia, where only one-third of the land is being cultivated; the value of crops which it is certain would ultimately be raised on land that is now unproductive would amount to at least sixty million dollars. The general passenger agent of the Oregon Railway and Navigation Company said recently that his lines were crying out for wheat to ship to China; "we have about reached the limit of our facilities; twelve or fifteen miles is the only distance farmers can afford to haul their wheat to us. Make it possible for them to haul it double that distance and you will double the business of our railway." And the business of local nature done by a railroad is a good criterion of the prosperity of the country in which it operates. Crops now raised on lands within reach of railways would of course be enhanced in value by good roads; more loads could be taken at less cost; weather interferences would not enter into the question. But of more moment perhaps than anything else, a vast amount of land thus placed within quick reach of our towns and cities would be given over to gardening for city markets, a line of agriculture immensely profitable, as city people well know. "The citizens of Birmingham," said the mayor of that city, "enjoy the benefits of fresh products raised on the farms along these [improved] roads. The dairymen, the truck farmers, and others ... are put in touch with our markets daily, thereby receiving the benefits of any advance in farm products." Poor roads are like the interest on a debt, and they are working against one all the time. It is noticeable that when good roads are built, farmers, who are always conservative, adjust themselves more readily to conditions. They are in touch with the world and they feel more keenly its pulse, much to their advantage. Too many farmers, damned by bad roads, are guilty of the faults of which Birmingham's mayor accused Alabama planters: "The farmers in this section," he said, "are selling cotton today for less than seven cents per pound, while they could have sold Irish potatoes within the past few months at two dollars per bushel." Farmers over the entire country are held to be slow in taking advantage of their whole opportunities; bad roads take the life out of them and out of their horses; they think somewhat as they ride--desperately slow; and they will not think faster until they ride faster. It is said that a man riding on a heavy southern road saw a hat in the mud; stopping to pick it up he was surprised to find a head of hair beneath it: then a voice came out of the ground: "Hold on, boss, don't take my hat; I've got a powerful fine mule down here somewhere if I can ever get him out." You can write and speak to farmers until doomsday about taking quick advantage of the exigencies of the markets that are dependent on them, but if they have to hunt for their horses in a hog-wallow road all your talk will be in vain. When we seriously face the question of how a fine system of highways is to be built in this country, it is found to be a complex problem. For about ten years now it has been seriously debated, and these years have seen a large advance; until now the problem has become almost national. One great fundamental idea has been proposed and is now generally accepted by all who have paid the matter any attention, and that is that those who live along our present roads cannot be expected to bear the entire cost of building good roads. This may be said to be settled and need no debate. Practically all men are agreed that the rural population should not bear the entire expense of an improvement of which they, however, are to be the chief beneficiaries; the state itself, in all its parts, benefits from the improved conditions which follow improved roads, and should bear a portion of the expense. Do not think that city people escape the tax of bad roads. In St. Louis four hundred thousand people consume five hundred tons of produce every day. The cost of hauling this produce over bad roads averages twenty-five cents per mile and over good roads about ten cents per mile, making a difference of fifteen cents per mile per ton. For five hundred tons, hauled from farms averaging ten miles distance, this would be seven hundred and fifty dollars per day, or a quarter of a million dollars a year--enough to build fifty miles of macadamized road a year. The farmers shift as much as they can of their heavy tax on the city people--the consumer pays the freight. Everybody is concerned in the "mud-tax" of bad roads. And so what is known as the "state aid" plan has become popular. By this plan the state pays a fixed part of the cost of building roads out of the general fund raised by taxation of all the people and all the property in the state. Under these circumstances corporations, railroads, and the various representatives of the concentrated wealth of the cities all contribute to this fund. The funds are expended in rural districts and are supplemented by money raised by local taxation. The state of New York, which has a good system, pays one-half of the good roads fund; each county pays thirty-five per cent, and the township fifteen per cent. Pennsylvania has appropriated at one time six and a half millions as a good roads fund. The new Ohio law apportions the cost of new roads as follows: The state pays twenty-five per cent, the townships twenty-five per cent, and the county fifty per cent. Of the twenty-five per cent paid by the townships fifteen per cent is to be paid by owners of abutting property and ten per cent by the township as a whole. In New Jersey, which has a model system of road-building and many model roads, the state pays a third, the county a third, and the property owners a third. A more recent theory in American road-building which has been advanced is a plan of national aid.[1] This is no new thing in America, though it has been many years since the government has paid attention to roadways. In the early days the wisest of our statesmen advocated large plans of internal improvement; one great national road, as we have seen, was built by the War Department from the Potomac almost to the Mississippi, through Wheeling, Columbus, Indianapolis and Vandalia, at a cost of over six million dollars. And this famous national road was built, in part, upon an earlier pathway, cut through Ohio by Ebenezer Zane in 1796, also at the order of Congress, and for which he received grants of land which formed the nucleus of the three thriving Ohio cities, Zanesville, Lancaster, and Chillicothe. The constitutionality of road-building by the government was questioned by some, but that clause granting it the right to establish post-offices and post roads "must, in every view, be a harmless power," said James Madison, "and may perhaps, by judicious management, become productive of great public conveniency. Nothing which tends to facilitate the intercourse between the states can be deemed unworthy of the public care."[2] But the government was interested not only in building roads but in many other phases of public improvement; it took stock in the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal; Congress voted $30,000 to survey the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal route, and the work was done by government engineers. When railways superseded highways, the government was almost persuaded to complete the old National Road with rails and ties instead of broken stone. When the Erie Canal was proposed, a vast scheme of government aid was favored by leading statesmen;[3] the government has greatly assisted the western railways by gigantic grants of land worth one hundred and thirty-eight million dollars. The vast funds of private capital that have been seeking investment in this country, at first in turnpike, plank, and macadamized roads, then in canals, and later in railways, has rendered government aid comparatively unnecessary. In the last few years the only work of internal improvement aided by the government is the improvement of the rivers and harbors, which for 1904 takes over fifty millions of revenue a year. The sum of $130,565,485 has been well spent on river and harbor improvement in the past seven years. Not only are the great rivers, such as the Ohio and Mississippi, improved, but lesser streams. A short time ago I made a journey of one hundred miles down the Elk River in West Virginia in a boat eleven inches deep and twelve feet long; a channel all the way down had been made about two feet wide by picking out the stones; the United States did this at an expense of fifteen hundred dollars. The groceries and dry goods for thousands were poled up that river in dug-outs through that two-foot channel. I doubt if a two-wheel vehicle could traverse the road which runs throughout that valley, but I know a four-wheel vehicle could not. The advocates of national aid urge the right to establish post roads; "I had an ancestor in the United States Senate," said ex-Senator Butler of South Carolina, "who refused to vote a dollar for the improvement of Charleston Harbor; but almost the first act of my official life was to get an appropriation of two hundred and fifty thousand for that purpose. There is as ample constitutional warrant for the improvement of public roads out of the United States Treasury--as large as there is for the improvement of rivers and harbors, or for the support of the agricultural colleges." "But few judicial opinions have been rendered on this subject. In the case of Dickey against the Turnpike Company, the Kentucky court of appeals decided that the power given to Congress by the constitution to establish post roads enabled them to make, repair, keep open, and improve post roads when they shall deem the exercise of the power expedient. But in the exercise of the right of eminent domain on this subject the United States has no right to adopt and use roads, bridges, or ferries constructed and owned by states, corporations, and individuals without their consent or without making to the parties concerned just compensation. If the United States elects to use such accommodations, it stands upon the same footing and is subject to the same tolls and regulations as a private individual. It has been asserted that Jefferson was opposed to the appropriation of money for internal improvements, but, in 1808, in writing to Mr. Lieper, he said, 'Give us peace until our revenues are liberated from debt, ... and then during peace we may chequer our whole country with canals, roads, etc.' Writing to J. W. Eppes in 1813 he says, 'The fondest wish of my heart ever was that the surplus portion of these taxes destined for the payment of the Revolutionary debt should, when that object is accomplished, be continued by annual or biennial reënactments and applied in times of peace to the improvement of our country by canals, roads, and useful institutions.' Congress has always claimed the power to lay out, construct, and improve post roads with the assent of the states through which they pass; also, to open, construct, and improve military roads on like terms; and the right to cut canals through the several states with their consent for the purpose of promoting and securing internal commerce and for the safe and economical transportation of military stores in times of war. The president has sometimes objected to the exercise of this constitutional right, but Congress has never denied it. Cooley, the highest authority on constitutional law, says: "'Every road within a State, including railroads, canals, turnpikes, and navigable streams, existing or created within a State, becomes a post-road, whenever by law or by the action of the Post-Office Department provision is made for the transportation of the mail upon or over it. Many statesmen and jurists have contended that the power comprehends the laying out and construction of any roads which Congress may deem proper and needful for the conveyance of the mails, and keeping them repaired for the purpose.'"[4] It has been many years since the United States government was interested considerably in mail routes on the roadways of this country; in the past half century the government has spent but one hundred thousand dollars for the improvement of mail roads. The new era of rural delivery brings a return, in one sense, of the old stagecoach days. A thousand country roads are now used daily by government mail-carriers, but the government demands that the roads used be kept in good condition by the local authorities. Thus the situation is reversed; instead of holding it to be the duty of the government to deliver mail in rural districts, Congress holds that the debt is on the other side and that, in return for the boon of rural delivery, the rural population must make good roads. Madison well saw that government improvement of roads as mail routes would be of great general benefit; for in _The Federalist_ he adds that the power "may perhaps by judicious management become productive of great public conveniency." [Illustration: A GOOD-ROADS TRAIN [_The Southern Roadway's good-roads train, October 29, 1901, consisting of two coaches for officials and road experts and ten cars of road machinery; for itinerary through Virginia, North Carolina. Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia_]] One great work the government has done and is doing. It has founded an Office of Public Road Inquiries (described elsewhere) at Washington, and under the efficient management of Hon. Martin Dodge and Maurice O. Eldridge a great work of education has been carried on--samples of good roads have been built, good road trains have been sent out by the Southern Railway and the Illinois Central into the South, a laboratory has been established at Washington, under the efficient charge of Professor L. W. Page, for the testing of materials free of charge, and a great deal of road information has been published and sent out. The Brownlow Bill, introduced into Congress at the last session, is the latest plan of national aid, and is thus described by Hon. Martin Dodge of the Office of Public Road Inquiries: "The bill provides for an appropriation of twenty million dollars. This is to be used only in connection and coöperation with the various states or civil subdivisions of states that may make application to the General Government for the purpose of securing its aid to build certain roads. The application must be made for a specific road to be built, and the state or county making the application must be ready to pay half of the cost, according to the plans and specifications made by the General Government. In no case can any state or any number of counties within the state receive any greater proportion of the twenty million dollars than the population of the state bears to the population of the United States. "In other words, all of the plans must originate in the community. The bill does not provide that the United States shall go forward and say a road shall be built here or a road shall be built there. The United States shall hold itself in readiness, when requested to do so, to coöperate with those who have selected a road they desire to build, provided they are ready and willing to pay one-half the cost. Then, if the road is a suitable one and is approved by the government authorities, they go forward and build that road, each contributing one-half of the expense. In order to prevent the state losing jurisdiction of the road, it is provided that it may go forward and build the road if it will accept the government engineer's estimate. For instance, if a state or county asks for ten miles of road, the estimated cost of which is thirty thousand dollars, and the state or county officials say they are willing to undertake the work for thirty thousand dollars, the government authorizes them to go ahead and build that road according to specifications, and when it is finished the government will pay the fifteen thousand dollars. If the state or county does not wish to take the contract, the General Government will advertise and give it to the lowest bidder, and will pay its contributory share and the other party will pay its contributory share. "It is no part of the essential principle involved in this national aid plan that the exact proportion should be fifty per cent on each side. Any other figure can be adopted. Some think ten per cent is sufficient; some think thirty-three and one-third is the proper percentage; others think twenty-five per cent only should be paid by the government, twenty-five per cent by the state, twenty-five per cent by the county, and twenty-five per cent by the township. The one idea that seems to be generally accepted is that the government should do something." Thus the interest in the great question is beginning to forge to the front; through the Office of Public Road Inquiries a great deal of information is being circulated touching all phases of the question. There is a fine spirit of independence displayed by the leaders of the movement; no one plan is over-urged; the situation is such that the final concerted popular action will come from the real governing power--the people. When they demand that the United States shall not have the poorest rural roads of any civilized and some uncivilized nations, we as a nation will hasten into the fore front and finally lead the world in this vital department of civic life, as we are leading it in so many other departments today. [Illustration: SAMPLE STEEL TRACK FOR COMMON ROADS [_On the driver's right is seated Hon. Martin Dodge, since 1898 Director of the Office of Public Road Inquiries_]] FOOTNOTES: [1] See _post_, pp. 68-80. [2] _The Federalist_, p. 198. [3] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. xiv, p. 57. [4] Thomas M. Cooley, _Constitutional Law_ (Boston, 1891), pp. 85-86. CHAPTER II GOVERNMENT COÖPERATION IN OBJECT-LESSON ROAD WORK[5] In a government having a composite nature like that of the United States it is not always easy to determine just what share the General Government, the state government, and the local government should respectively take in carrying out highway work, though it is generally admitted that there should be coöperation among them all. In the early history of the Republic the National Government itself laid out and partially completed a great national system of highways connecting the East with the West, and the capital of the nation with its then most distant possessions. Fourteen million dollars in all was appropriated by acts of Congress to be devoted to this purpose, an amount almost equal to that paid for the Louisiana Purchase. In other words, it cost the government substantially as much to make that territory accessible as to purchase it; and what is true of that territory in its larger sense is also true in a small way of nearly every tract of land that is opened up and used for the purposes of civilization; that is to say, it will cost as much to build up, improve, and maintain the roads of any given section of the country as the land in its primitive condition is worth; and the same rule will apply in most cases after the land value has advanced considerably beyond that of its primitive condition. It is a general rule that the suitable improvement of a highway within reasonable limitations will double the value of the land adjacent to it. Seven million dollars, half of the total sum appropriated by acts of Congress for the national road system, was devoted to building the Cumberland Road from Cumberland, Maryland, to St. Louis, Missouri, the most central point in the great Louisiana Purchase, and seven hundred miles west of Cumberland. The total cost of this great road was wholly paid out of the United States Treasury, and though never fully completed on the western end, it is the longest straight road ever built by any government. It passes through the capitals of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, and the cost per mile was, approximately, ten thousand dollars. It furnishes the only important instance the country has ever had of the General Government providing a highway at its own expense. The plan, however, was never carried to completion, and since its abandonment two generations ago, the people of the different states have provided their own highways. For the most part they have delegated their powers either to individuals, companies, or corporations to build toll roads, or to the minor political subdivisions and municipalities to build free roads. With the passing of the toll-road system, the withdrawal of the General Government from the field of actual road construction, and the various state governments doing little or nothing, the only remaining active agent occupying the entire great field is the local government in each community; and while these various local governments have done and are still doing the best they can under the circumstances, there is great need that their efforts should be supplemented, their revenues enlarged, and their skill in the art of road construction increased. The skill of the local supervisor was sufficient in primitive times, so long as his principal duties consisted in clearing the way of trees, logs, stumps, and other obstructions, and shaping the earth of which the roadbed was composed into a little better form than nature had left it; and the resources at his command were sufficient so long as he was authorized to call on every able-bodied male citizen between twenty-one and forty-five years of age to do ten days' labor annually on the road, especially when the only labor expected was that of dealing with the material found on the spot. But with the changed conditions brought about by the more advanced state of civilization, after the rights of way have been cleared of their obstructions and the earth roads graded into the form of turnpikes, it became necessary to harden their surfaces with material which often must be brought from distant places. In order to accomplish this, expert skill is required in the selection of materials, money instead of labor is required to pay for the cost of transportation, and machinery must be substituted for the hand processes and primitive methods heretofore employed in order to crush the rock and distribute it in the most economical manner on the roadbed. Skill and machinery are also required to roll and consolidate the material so as to form a smooth, hard surface and a homogeneous mass impervious to water. The local road officer now not only finds himself deficient in skill and the proper kind of resources, but he discovers in many cases that the number of persons subject to his call for road work has greatly diminished. The great cities of the North have absorbed half of the population in all the states north of the Ohio and east of the Mississippi, and those living in these great cities are not subject to the former duties of working the roads, nor do they pay any compensation in money in lieu thereof. So the statute labor has not only become unsuitable for the service to be performed, but it is, as stated, greatly diminished. In the former generations substantially all the people contributed to the construction of the highways under the statute labor system, but at the present time not more than half the population is subject to this service, and this, too, at a time when the need for highway improvement is greatest. While the former ways and means are inadequate or inapplicable to present needs and conditions, there are other means more suitable for the service, and existing in ample proportion for every need. The tollgate-keeper cannot be called upon to restore the ancient system of turnpikes and plank roads to be maintained by a tax upon vehicles passing over them, but there can be provided a general fund in each county sufficient to build up free roads better than the toll roads and with a smaller burden of cost upon the people. The statute labor in the rural districts cannot be depended upon, because it is unsuitable to the service now required and spasmodic in its application, when it should be perennial; but this statute labor can be commuted to a money tax, with no hardships upon the citizens and with great benefit to the highway system. Former inhabitants of the abandoned farms or the deserted villages cannot be followed to the great cities and the road tax which they formerly paid be collected from them again to improve the country roads; but it can be provided that all the property owners in every city, as well as in every county, shall pay a money tax into a general fund, which shall be devoted exclusively to the improvement of highways in the rural districts. The state itself can maintain a general fund out of which a portion of the cost of every principal highway in the state shall be paid, and by so doing all the people of the state will contribute to improving the highways, as they once did in the early history of the nation, when substantially all the wealth and population was distributed almost equally throughout the settled portions of the country. Having a general fund of money instead of statute labor, it would be possible to introduce more scientific and more economical methods of construction with coöperation. This coöperation, formerly applied with good results to the primitive conditions, but which has been partially lost by the diminution in the number and skill of the co-workers, would be restored again in a great measure by drawing the money with which to improve the roads out of a general fund to which all had contributed. In many countries the army has been used to advantage in time of peace in building up and maintaining the highways. There is no army in this country for such a purpose, but there is an army of prisoners in every state, whose labor is so directed, and has been so directed for generations past, that it adds little or nothing to the common wealth. The labor of these prisoners, properly applied and directed, would be of great benefit and improvement to the highways, and would add greatly to the national wealth, while at the same time it would lighten the pressure of competition with free labor by withdrawing the prison labor from the manufacture of commercial articles and applying it to work not now performed, that is, the building of highways or preparing material to be used therefor. The General Government, having withdrawn from the field of road construction in 1832, has since done little in that line until very recently. Eight years ago Congress appropriated a small sum of money for the purpose of instituting a sort of inquiry into the prevailing condition of things pertaining to road matters. This appropriation has been continued from year to year and increased during the last two years with a view of coöperating to a limited extent with other efforts in road construction. The General Government can perform certain duties pertaining to scientific road improvement better than any other agency. Scientific facts ascertained at one time by the General Government will serve for the enlightenment of the people of all the states, and with no more cost than would be required for each single state to make the investigation and ascertain the facts for itself. With a view to securing scientific facts in reference to the value of road-building materials, the Secretary of Agriculture has established at Washington, D. C., a mechanical and chemical laboratory for testing such material from all parts of the country. Professor L. W. Page, late of Harvard University, is in charge of this laboratory, and has tested many samples of rock without charge to those having the test made. There is, however, no test equal to the actual application of the material to the road itself. With a view to making more extensive tests than could be done by laboratory work alone, the Director of the Office of Public Road Inquiries has, during the past two years, coöperated with the local authorities in many different states in building short sections of object-lesson roads. In this work it is intended not only to contribute something by way of coöperation on the part of the General Government, but also to secure coöperation on the part of as many different interests connected with the road question as possible. The local community having the road built is most largely interested, and is expected to furnish the common labor and domestic material. The railroad companies generally coöperate, because they are interested in having better roads to and from their railroad stations. They therefore contribute by transporting free or at very low rates the machinery and such foreign material as is needed in the construction of the road. The manufacturers of earth-handling and road-building machinery coöperate by furnishing all needed machinery for the most economical construction of the road, and in many cases prison labor is used in preparing material which finally goes into the completed roadbed. The contribution which the General Government makes in this scheme of coöperation is both actually and relatively small, but it is by means of this limited coöperation that it has been possible to produce a large number of object-lesson roads in different states. These have proved very beneficial, not only in showing the scientific side of the question, but the economical side as well. In the year 1900 object-lesson roads were built under the direction of the Office of Public Road Inquiries near Port Huron, Saginaw, and Traverse City, Michigan; Springfield, Illinois; and Topeka, Kansas. Since that time the object-lesson roads so built have been extended and duplicated by the local authorities without further aid from the government. The people are so well pleased with the results of these experiments that they are making preparations for additional extensions, aggregating many miles. During the year 1901 sample object-lesson roads were built on a larger scale in coöperation with the Illinois Central, Lake Shore, and Southern railroad companies, and the National Association for Good Roads in the states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, New York, North Carolina, South Carolina, Alabama, and Georgia. In all of these cases the coöperation has been very hearty on the part of the state, the county, and the municipality in which the work has been done, and the results have been very satisfactory and beneficial. Hon. A. H. Longino, governor of Mississippi, in his speech made at the International Good Roads Congress at Buffalo, September 17, 1901, said: "My friends, the importance of good roads seems to me to be so apparent, so self-evident, that the discussion thereof is but a discussion of truisms. Much as we appreciate railroads, rivers, and canals as means for transportation of the commerce of the country, they are, in my judgment, of less importance to mankind, to the masses of the people, and to all classes of people, than are good country roads. "I live in a section of the country where that important subject has found at the hands of the people apparently less appreciation and less effort toward improvement than in many others. In behalf of the Good Roads Association, headed by Colonel Moore and Mr. Richardson, which recently met in the state of Mississippi, I want to say that more interest has been aroused by their efforts concerning this important subject among the people there than perhaps ever existed before in the history of the state. By their work, demonstrating what could be done by the methods which they employed, and by their agitation of the question, the people have become aroused as they never were before; and since their departure from the state a large number of counties which were not already working under the contract system have provided for public highways, worked by contract, requiring the contractor to give a good and sufficient bond, a bond broad enough in its provisions and large enough in amount to compel faithful service; and Mississippi is today starting out on a higher plane than ever before." FOOTNOTES: [5] By Hon. Martin Dodge, Director of the Office of Public Road Inquiries. CHAPTER III GOOD ROADS FOR FARMERS[6] Poor roads constitute the greatest drawback to rural life, and for the lack of good roads the farmers suffer more than any other class. It is obviously unnecessary, therefore, to discuss here the benefits to be derived by them from improved roads. Suffice it to say, that those localities where good roads have been built are becoming richer, more prosperous, and more thickly settled, while those which do not possess these advantages in transportation are either at a standstill or are becoming poorer and more sparsely settled. If these conditions continue, fruitful farms may be abandoned and rich lands go to waste. Life on a farm often becomes, as a result of "bottomless roads," isolated and barren of social enjoyments and pleasures, and country people in some communities suffer such great disadvantage that ambition is checked, energy weakened, and industry paralyzed. Good roads, like good streets, make habitation along them most desirable; they economize time and force in transportation of products, reduce wear and tear on horses, harness and vehicles, and enhance the market value of real estate. They raise the value of farm lands and farm products, and tend to beautify the country through which they pass; they facilitate rural mail delivery and are a potent aid to education, religion, and sociability. Charles Sumner once said: "The road and the schoolmaster are the two most important agents in advancing civilization." [Illustration: TYPICAL MACADAM ROAD NEAR BRYN MAWR, PENNSYLVANIA] The difference between good and bad roads is often equivalent to the difference between profit and loss. Good roads have a money value to farmers as well as a political and social value, and leaving out convenience, comfort, social and refined influences which good roads always enhance, and looking at them only from the "almighty dollar" side, they are found to pay handsome dividends each year. People generally are beginning to realize that road-building is a public matter, and that the best interests of American agriculture and the American people as a whole demand the construction of good roads, and that money wisely expended for this purpose is sure to return. Road-making is perfected by practice, experience, and labor. Soils and clays, sand and ores, gravels and rocks, are transformed into beautiful roads, streets, and boulevards, by methods which conform with their great varieties of characters and with nature's laws. The art of road-building depends largely for its success upon being carried on in conformity with certain general principles. It is necessary that roads should be hard, smooth, comparatively level, and fit for use at all seasons of the year; that they should be properly located, or laid out on the ground, so that their grades may be such that animate or inanimate power may be applied upon them to the best advantage and without great loss of energy; that they should be properly constructed, the ground well drained, the roadbed graded, shaped, and rolled, and that they should be surfaced with the best material procurable; that they should be properly maintained or kept constantly in good repair. All the important roads in the United States can be and doubtless will be macadamized or otherwise improved in the not distant future. This expectation should govern their present location and treatment everywhere. Unless changes are made in the location of the roads in many parts of this country it would be worse than folly to macadamize them. "Any costly resurfacing of the existing roads will fasten them where they are for generations," says General Stone. The chief difficulty in this country is not with the surface, but with the steep grades, many of which are too long to be reduced by cutting and filling on the present lines, and if this could be done it would cost more in many cases than relocating them. Many of our roads were originally laid out without any attention to general topography, and in most cases followed the settler's path from cabin to cabin, the pig trail, or ran along the boundary lines of the farms regardless of grades or direction. Most of them remain today where they were located years ago, and where untold labor, expense, and energy have been wasted in trying to haul over them and in endeavors to improve their deplorable condition. The great error is made of continuing to follow these primitive paths with our public highways. The right course is to call in an engineer and throw the road around the end or along the side of steep hills instead of continuing to go over them, or to pull the road up on dry solid ground instead of splashing through the mud and water of the creek or swamp. Far more time and money have been wasted in trying to keep up a single mile of one of these "pig-track" surveys than it would take to build and keep in repair two miles of good road. Another and perhaps greater error is made by some persons in the West who continue to lay out their roads on "section lines." These sections are all square, with sides running north, south, east, and west. A person wishing to cross the country in any other than these directions must necessarily do so in rectangular zigzags. It also necessitates very often the crossing and recrossing of hills and valleys, which might be avoided if the roads had been constructed on scientific principles. [Illustration: A STUDY IN GRADING [_The old road had a grade of eight per cent; by the improved route the grade is four per cent_]] In the prairie state of Iowa, for example, where roads are no worse than in many other states, there is a greater number of roads having much steeper grades than are found in the mountainous republic of Switzerland. In Maryland the old stagecoach road or turnpike running from Washington to Baltimore makes almost a "bee line," regardless of hills or valleys, and the grades at places are as steep as ten or twelve per cent, where by making little detours the road might have been made perfectly level, or by running it up the hills less abruptly the grade might have been reduced to three or four per cent, as is done in the hilly regions of many parts of this and other countries. Straight roads are the proper kind to have, but in hilly countries their straightness should always be sacrificed to obtain a level surface so as to better accommodate the people who use them. Graceful and natural curves conforming to the lay of the land add beauty to the landscape, besides enhancing the value of property. Not only do level, curved roads add beauty to the landscape and make lands along them more valuable, but the horse is able to utilize his full strength over them; furthermore, a horse can pull only four-fifths as much on a grade of two feet in one hundred feet, and this gradually lessens until with a grade of ten feet in one hundred feet he can draw but one-fourth as much as he can on a level road. All roads should therefore wind around hills or be cut through instead of running over them, and in many cases the former can be done without greatly increasing the distance. To illustrate, if an apple or pear be cut in half and one of the halves placed on a flat surface, it will be seen that the horizontal distance around from stem to blossom is no greater than the distance over between the same points. The wilfulness of one or two private individuals sometimes becomes a barrier to traffic and commerce. The great drawback to the laying out of roads on the principle referred to is that of the necessity, in some cases, of building them through the best lands, the choicest pastures and orchards, instead, as they do now, of cutting around the farm line or passing through old worn-out fields or over rocky knolls. But if farmers wish people to know that they have good farms, good cattle, sheep, or horses, good grain, fruit, or vegetables, they should let the roads go through the best parts of the farms. The difference in length between a straight road and one which is slightly curved is less than one would imagine. Says Sganzin: "If a road between two places ten miles apart were made to curve so that the eye could see no farther than a quarter of a mile of it at once, its length would exceed that of a perfectly straight road between the same points by only about one hundred and fifty yards." Even if the distance around a hill be much greater, it is often more economical to construct it that way than to go over and necessitate the expenditure of large amounts of money in reducing the grade, or a waste of much valuable time and energy in transporting goods that way. Gillespie says "that, as a general rule, the horizontal length of a road may be advantageously increased to avoid an ascent by at least twenty times the perpendicular height which is thus to be avoided--that is, to escape a hill one hundred feet high it would be proper for the road to make such a circuit as would increase its length two thousand feet." The mathematical axiom that "a straight line is the shortest distance between two points" is not, therefore, the best rule to follow in laying out a road; better is the proverb that "the longest way round is the shortest way home." The grade is the most important factor to be considered in the location of roads. The smoother the road surface, the less the grade should be. Whether the road be constructed of earth, stone, or gravel, steep grades should always be avoided if possible. They become covered at times with coatings of ice or slippery soil, making them very difficult to ascend with loaded vehicles, as well as dangerous to descend. They allow water to rush down at such a rate as to wash great gaps alongside or to carry the surfacing material away. As the grade increases in steepness either the load has to be diminished in proportion or more horses or power attached. From Gillespie we find that if a horse can draw on a level one thousand pounds, on a rise of-- 1 foot in-- Pounds 100 feet he draws 900 50 feet 810 44 feet 750 40 feet 720 30 feet 640 25 feet 540 24 feet 500 20 feet 400 10 feet 250 It is therefore seen that when the grades are 1 foot in 44 feet, or 120 feet to the mile, a horse can draw only three-fourths as much as he can on a level; where the grade is 1 foot in 24 feet, or 220 feet to the mile, he can draw only one-half as much, and on a ten per cent grade, or 520 feet to the mile, he is able to draw only one-fourth as much as on a level road. As a chain is no stronger than its weakest link, just so the greatest load which can be hauled over a road is the load which can be hauled through the deepest mud hole or up the steepest hill on that road. The cost of haulage is, therefore, necessarily increased in proportion to the roughness of the surface or steepness of the grade. It costs one and one-half times as much to haul over a road having a five per cent grade and three times as much over one having a ten per cent grade as on a level road. As a perfectly level road can seldom be had, it is well to know the steepest allowable grade. If the hill be one of great length, it is sometimes best to have the lowest part steepest, upon which the horse is capable of exerting his full strength, and to make the slope more gentle toward the summit, to correspond with the continually decreasing strength of the fatigued animal. So far as descent is concerned, a road should not be so steep that the wagons and carriages cannot be drawn down it with perfect ease and safety. Sir Henry Parnell considered that when the grade was no greater than one foot in thirty-five feet, vehicles could be drawn down it at a speed of twelve miles an hour with perfect safety. Gillespie says: "It has been ascertained that a horse can for a short time double his usual exertion; also, that on the best roads he exerts a pressure against his collar of about one thirty-fifth of the load. If he can double his exertion for a time, he can pull one thirty-fifth more, and the slope which would force him to lift that proportion would be, as seen from the above table, one of one in thirty-five, or about a three per cent grade. On this slope, however, he would be compelled to double his ordinary exertion to draw a full load, and it would therefore be the maximum grade." Mr. Isaac B. Potter, an eminent authority upon roads, says: "Dirty water and watery dirt make bad going, and mud is the greatest obstacle to the travel and traffic of the farmer. Mud is a mixture of dirt and water. The dirt is always to be found in the roadway, and the water, which comes in rain, snow, and frost, softens it; horses and wagons and narrow wheel tires knead it and mix it, and it soon gets into so bad a condition that a fairly loaded wagon cannot be hauled through it. "We cannot prevent the coming of this water, and it only remains for us to get rid of it, which can be speedily done if we go about it in the right way. Very few people know how great an amount of water falls upon the country road, and it may surprise some of us to be told that on each mile of an ordinary country highway three rods wide within the United States there falls each year an average of twenty-seven thousand tons of water. In the ordinary country dirt road the water seems to stick and stay as if there was no other place for it, and this is only because we have never given it a fair opportunity to run out of the dirt and find its level in other places. We cannot make a hard road out of soft mud, and no amount of labor and machinery will make a good dirt road that will stay good unless some plan is adopted to get rid of the surplus water. Water is a heavy, limpid fluid, hard to confine and easy to let loose. It is always seeking for a chance to run down a hill; always trying to find its lowest level." An essential feature of a good road is good drainage, and the principles of good drainage remain substantially the same whether the road be constructed of earth, gravel, shells, stones, or asphalt. The first demand of good drainage is to attend to the shape of road surface. This must be "crowned," or rounded up toward the center, so that there may be a fall from the center to the sides, thus compelling the water to flow rapidly from the surface into the gutters which should be constructed on one or both sides, and from there in turn be discharged into larger and more open channels. Furthermore, it is necessary that no water be allowed to flow across a roadway; culverts, tile, stone, or box drains should be provided for that purpose. In addition to being well covered and drained, the surface should be kept as smooth as possible; that is, free from ruts, wheel tracks, holes, or hollows. If any of these exist, instead of being thrown to the side the water is held back and is either evaporated by the sun or absorbed by the material of which the road is constructed. In the latter case the material loses its solidity, softens and yields to the impact of the horses' feet and the wheels of vehicles, and, like the water poured upon a grindstone, so the water poured on a road surface which is not properly drained assists the grinding action of the wheels in rutting or completely destroying the surface. When water is allowed to stand on a road the holes and ruts rapidly increase in number and size; wagon after wagon sinks deeper and deeper, until the road finally becomes utterly bad, and sometimes impassable, as frequently found in many parts of the country during the winter season. Road drainage is just as essential to a good road as farm drainage is to a good farm. In fact, the two go hand in hand, and the better the one the better the other, and vice versa. There are thousands of miles of public roads in the United States which are practically impassable during some portion of the year on account of bad drainage, while for the same reason thousands of acres of the richest meadow and swamp lands lie idle from year in to year out. The wearing surface of a road must be in effect a roof; that is, the section in the middle should be the highest part and the traveled roadway should be made as impervious to water as possible, so that it will flow freely and quickly into the gutters or ditches alongside. The best shape for the cross section of a road has been found to be either a flat ellipse or one made up of two plane surfaces sloping uniformly from the middle to the sides and joined in the center by a small, circular curve. Either of these sections may be used, provided it is not too flat in the middle for good drainage or too steep at the gutters for safety. The steepness of the slope from the center to the sides should depend upon the nature of the surface, being greater or less according to its roughness or smoothness. This slope ought to be greatest on earth roads, perhaps as much in some cases as one foot in twenty feet after the surface has been thoroughly rolled or compacted by traffic. This varies from about one in twenty to one in thirty on a macadam road, to one in forty or one in sixty on the various classes of pavements, and for asphalt sometimes as low as one in eighty. Where the road is constructed on a grade or hill the slope from the center to the sides should be slightly steeper than that on the level road. The best cross section for roads on grades is the one made up from two plane surfaces sloping uniformly from the center to the sides. This is done so as to avoid the danger of overturning near the side ditches, which would necessarily be increased if the elliptical form were used. The slope from the center to the sides must be steep enough to lead the water into the side ditches instead of allowing it to run down the middle of the road. Every wheel track on an inclined roadway becomes a channel for carrying down the water, and unless the curvature is sufficient these tracks are quickly deepened into water courses which cut into and sometimes destroy the best improved road. In order to prevent the washing out of earth roads on hills it sometimes becomes necessary to construct water breaks; that is, broad shallow ditches arranged so as to catch the surface water and carry it each way into the side ditches. Such ditches retard traffic to a certain extent, and often result in overturning vehicles; consequently they should never be used until all other means have failed to cause the water to flow into the side channels; neither should they be allowed to cross the entire width of the road diagonally, but should be constructed in the shape of the letter V. This arrangement permits teams following the middle of the road to cross the ditch squarely and thus avoid the danger of overturning. These ditches should not be deeper than is absolutely necessary to throw the water off the surface, and the part in the center should be the shallowest. Unfortunately farmers and road masters have a fixed idea that one way to prevent hills, long and short, from washing is to heap upon them quantities of those original tumular obstructions known indifferently as "thank-you-ma'ams," "breaks," or "hummocks," and the number they can squeeze in upon a single hill is positively astonishing. Quoting Mr. Isaac B. Potter: "Side ditches are necessary because the thousands of tons of water which fall upon every mile of country road each year, in the form of rain or snow, should be carried away to some neighboring creek or other water channel as fast as the rain falls and the snow melts, so as to prevent its forming mud and destroying the surface of the road. When the ground is frozen and a heavy rain or sudden thaw occurs, the side ditch is the only means of getting rid of the surface water; for no matter how sandy or porous the soil may be, when filled with frost it is practically water-tight, and the water which falls or forms on the surface must either remain there or be carried away by surface ditches at the sides of the road. "A side ditch should have a gradually falling and even grade at the bottom, and broad, flaring sides to prevent the caving in of its banks. It can be easily cleared of snow, weeds, and rubbish; the water will run into it easily from each side, and it is not dangerous to wagons and foot travelers. It is therefore a much better ditch than the kind of ditch very often dug by erosion along the country roadside." Where the road is built on a grade some provision should be made to prevent the wash of the gutters into great, deep gullies. This can be done by paving the bottom and sides of the gutters with brick, river rocks, or field stone. In order to make the flow in such side ditches as small as possible it is advisable to construct outlets into the adjacent fields or to lay underground pipes or tile drains with openings into the ditches at frequent intervals. The size of side ditches should depend upon the character of the soil and the amount of water they are expected to carry. If possible they should be located three feet from the edge of the traveled roadway, so that if the latter is fourteen feet wide there will be twenty feet of clear space between ditches. The bottom of the ditch may vary in width from three to twelve inches, or even more, as may be found necessary in order to carry the largest amount of water which is expected to flow through it at any one time. Sometimes the only ditches necessary to carry off the surface water are those made by the use of the road machines or road graders. The blade of the machine may be set at any desired angle, and when drawn along by horses, cuts into the surface and moves the earth from the sides toward the center, forming gutters alongside and distributing the earth uniformly over the traveled way. Such gutters are liable to become clogged by brush, weeds, and other débris, or destroyed by passing wagons, and it is therefore better, when the space permits, to have the side ditches above referred to, even if the road be built with a road machine. In order to have a good road it is just as necessary that water should not be allowed to attack the substructure from below as that it should not be permitted to percolate through it from above. Especially is the former provision essential in cold climates, where, if water is allowed to remain in the substructure, the whole roadway is liable to become broken up and destroyed by frost and the wheels of vehicles. Therefore, where the road runs through low wet lands or over certain kinds of clayey soils, surface drainage is not all that is necessary. Common side drains catch surface water and surface water only. Isaac Potter says: "Many miles of road are on low, flat lands and on springy soils, and thousands of miles of prairie roads are, for many weeks in the year, laid on a wet subsoil. In all such cases, and, indeed, in every case where the nature of the ground is not such as to insure quick drainage, the road may be vastly benefited by under drainage. An under drain clears the soil of surplus water, dries it, warms it, and makes impossible the formation of deep, heavy, frozen crusts, which are found in every undrained road when the severe winter weather follows the heavy fall rains. This crust causes nine-tenths of the difficulties of travel in the time of sudden or long-continued thaws. "Roads constructed over wet undrained lands are always difficult to manage and expensive to maintain, and they are liable to be broken up in wet weather or after frosts. It will be much cheaper in the long run to go to the expense of making the drainage of the subjacent soil and substructure as perfect as possible. There is scarcely an earth road in the United States which cannot be so improved by surface or subdrainage as to yield benefits to the farmers a hundred times greater in value than the cost of the drains themselves. "Under drains are not expensive. On the contrary, they are cheap and easily made, and if made in a substantial way and according to the rules of common sense a good under drain will last for ages. Use the best tools and materials you can get; employ them as well as you know how, and wait results with a clear conscience. Slim fagots of wood bound together and laid lengthwise at the bottom of a carefully graded drain ditch will answer fairly well if stone or drain tile cannot be had, and will be of infinite benefit to a dirt road laid on springy soils." Subdrains should be carefully graded with a level at the bottom to a depth of about four feet, and should have a continuous fall throughout their entire length of at least six inches for each one hundred feet in length. If tile drains cannot be had, large, flat stones may be carefully placed so as to form a clear, open passage at the bottom for the flow of the water. The ditch should then be half filled with rough field stones, and on these a layer of smaller stones or gravel and a layer of sod, hay, gravel, cinders, or straw, or, if none of these can be had, of soil. If field stones or drain tile cannot be procured, satisfactory results may be attained by the use of logs and brush. If there be springs in the soil which might destroy the stability of the road, they should, if possible, be tapped and the water carried under or along the side until it can be turned away into some side channel. Such drains may be made of bundles of brush, field stones, brick, or drain tiles. They should be so protected by straw, sod, or brush as to prevent the soil from washing in and clogging them. Most of the roads in this country are of necessity constructed of earth, while in a few of the richer and more enterprising communities the most important thoroughfares are surfaced with gravel, shell, stones, or other materials. Unless some new system for the improvement of public roads is adopted, the inability of rural communities to raise funds for this purpose will necessarily cause the construction of hard roads to be very gradual for some time to come. Until this new system is adopted the most important problem will be that of making the most of the roads which exist, rather than building new ones of specially prepared materials. The natural materials and the funds already available must be used with skill and judgment in order to secure the best results. The location, grades, and drainage having been treated in the preceding pages, the next and most important consideration is that of constructing and improving the various kinds of roads. Of earth roads, as commonly built, it suffices to say that their present conditions should not be tolerated in communities where there are any other materials with which to improve them. Earth is the poorest of all road materials, aside from sand, and earth roads require more attention than any other kind of roads, and as a rule get less. At best, they possess so many defects that they should have all the attention and care of which their condition is susceptible. With earth alone, however, a very passable road can be made, provided the principles of location, drainage, and shape of surface, together with that of keeping the surface as smooth and firm as possible by rolling, be strictly adhered to. In fact a good earth road is second to none for summer travel and superior to many of the so-called macadam or stone roads. "Water is the great road destroyer," and too much attention cannot be given to the surface and subdrainage of earth roads. The material of which their surfaces are composed is more susceptible to the action of water and more easily destroyed by it than any other highway material. Drainage alone will often change a bad road into a good one, while on the other hand the best road may be destroyed by the absence of good drains. The same can be said of rolling, which is a very important matter in attempting to build or maintain a satisfactory earth road. If loose earth is dumped into the middle of the road and consolidated by traffic, the action of the narrow-tired wheels cuts it or rolls it into uneven ruts and ridges, which hold water, and ultimately results, if in the winter season, in a sticky, muddy surface, or if it be in dry weather, in covering the surface with several inches of dust. If, however, the surface be prepared with a road machine and properly rolled with a heavy roller, it can usually be made sufficiently firm and smooth to sustain the traffic without rutting, and resist the penetrating action of the water. Every road is made smoother, harder, and better by rolling. Such rolling should be done in damp weather, or if that is not possible, the surface should be sprinkled if the character of the soil requires such aid for its proper consolidation. In constructing new earth roads all stumps, brush, vegetable matter, rocks, and bowlders should be removed from the surface and the resulting holes filled in with suitable material, carefully and thoroughly tamped or rolled, before the road embankment is commenced. No perishable material should be used in forming the permanent embankments. Where possible the longitudinal grade should be kept down to one foot in thirty feet, and should under no circumstances exceed one in twenty, while that from center to sides should be maintained at one foot in twenty feet. Wherever the subgrade soil is found unsuitable it should be removed and replaced with good material rolled to a bearing, _i.e._, so as to be smooth and compact. The roadbed, having been brought to the required grade and crown, should be rolled several times to compact the surface. All inequalities discovered during the rolling should be leveled up and rerolled. On the prepared subgrade, the earth should be spread, harrowed if necessary, and then rolled to a bearing by passing the unballasted road roller a number of times over every portion of the surface of the section. In level countries and with narrow roads, enough material may be excavated to raise the roadway above the subgrade in forming the side ditches by means of road machines. If not, the required earth should be obtained by widening the side excavations, or from cuttings on the line of the new roadway, or from pits close by, elevating graders and modern dumping or spreading wagons being preferably used for this purpose. When the earth is brought up to the final height, it is again harrowed, then trimmed by means of road levelers or road machines and ultimately rolled to a solid and smooth surface with road rollers gradually increased in weight by the addition of ballast. No filling should be brought up in layers exceeding nine inches in depth. During the rolling, sprinkling should be attended to wherever the character of the soil requires such aid. The cross section of the roadway must be maintained during the last rolling stage by the addition of earth as needed. On clay soils a layer of sand, gravel, or ashes spread on the roadway will prevent the sticking of the clay to the roller. As previously explained, the finishing touches to the road surface should be given by a heavy roller. Before the earth road is opened to traffic, deep and wide side ditches should be constructed, with a fall throughout their entire length of at least one in one hundred and twenty. They should be cleaned and left with the drain tiling connections, if any, in good working order. Clay soils, as a rule, absorb water quite freely and soften when saturated, but water does not readily pass through them; hence they are not easily subdrained. When used alone, clay is the least desirable of all road materials, but roads constructed over clay soils may be treated with sand or small gravel, from which a comparatively hard and compact mass is formed which is nearly impervious to water. Material of this character found in the natural state, commonly known as hardpan, makes, when properly applied, a very solid and durable surface. In soil composed of a mixture of sand, gravel, and clay, all that is necessary to make a good road of its kind is to "crown" the surface, keep the ruts and hollows filled, and the ditches open and free. [Illustration: Sand Clay Road in Richland County, South Carolina [_Sand soil with nine inches of clay and two inches cover of sand_]] Roads are prone to wear in ruts, and when hollows and ruts begin to make their appearance on the surface of an earth road great care should be used in selecting new material, with which they should be immediately filled, because a hole which could have been filled at first with a shovel full of material would soon need a cart full. It should, if possible, be of a gravelly nature, entirely free from vegetable earth, muck, or mold. Sod or turf should not be placed on the surface, neither should the surface be renewed by throwing upon it the worn-out material from the gutters alongside. The last injunction, if rightly observed and the proper remedy applied, would doubtless put an end to the deplorable condition of thousands of miles of earth roads in the United States. A road-maker should not go to the other extreme and fill up ruts and holes with stone or large gravel. In many cases it would be wiser to dump such material in the river. These stones do not wear uniformly with the rest of the material, but produce bumps and ridges, and in nearly every case result in making two holes instead of one. Every hole or rut in a roadway, if not tamped full of some good material like that of which the road is constructed, will become filled with water, and finally with mud and water, and will be dug deeper and wider by each passing vehicle. The work of maintaining earth roads will be much increased by lack of care in properly finishing the work. The labor and money spent in rolling a newly-made road may save many times that amount of labor and money in making future repairs. After the material has been placed it should not be left for the traffic to consolidate, or for the rains to wash off into the ditches, but should be carefully formed and surfaced, and then, if possible, rolled. The rolling not only consolidates the material, but puts the roadbed in proper shape for travel immediately. If there is anything more trying on man or beast than to travel over an unimproved road, it must be to travel over one which has just been "worked" by the antiquated methods now in vogue in many of the states. The traveled way should never be repaired by the use of plows or scoops. The plow breaks up the compact surface which age and traffic have made tolerable. Earth roads can be rapidly repaired by a judicious use of road machines and road rollers. The road machine places the material where it is most needed, and the roller compacts and keeps it there. The labor-saving machinery now manufactured for road-building is just as effectual and necessary as the modern mower, self-binder, and thrasher. Road graders and rollers are the modern inventions necessary to permanent and economical construction. Two men with two teams can build more road in one day with a grader and roller than fifty men can with picks and shovels, and do it more uniformly and more thoroughly. Doubtless the best way to keep an earth road, or any road, for that matter, in repair is by the use of wide tires on all wagons carrying heavy burdens. Water and narrow tires aid each other in destroying streets, macadam, gravel, and earth roads. Narrow tires are also among the most destructive agents to the fields, pastures, and meadows of farms, while on the other hand wide tires are road-makers; they roll and harden the surface, and every loaded wagon becomes in effect a road roller. Nothing so much tends to the improving of a road as the continued rolling of its surface. Tests recently made at the experiment stations in Utah and Missouri show that wide tires not only improve the surface of roads, but that under ordinary circumstances less power is required to pull a wagon on which wide tires are used. The introduction in recent years of a wide metallic tire which can be placed on any narrow-tired wheel at the cost of two dollars each, has removed one very serious objection to the proposed substitution of broad tires for the narrow ones now in use. Repairs on earth roads should be attended to particularly in the spring of the year, but the great mistake of letting all the repairs go until that time should rot be made. The great want of the country road is daily care, and the sooner we do away with the system of "working out" our road taxes, and pay such taxes in money, the sooner will it be possible to build improved roads and to hire experts to keep them constantly in good repair. Roads could then secure attention when such attention is most needed. If they are repaired only annually or semiannually they are seldom in good condition but when they are given daily or weekly care they are almost always in good condition, and, moreover, the second method costs far less than the first. A portion of all levy tax money raised for road purposes should be used in buying improved road machinery, and in constructing each year a few miles of improved stone or gravel roads. The only exceptions to the instructions given on road drainage are found in the attempt to improve a sand road. The more one improves the drainage of a sand road the more deplorable becomes its condition. Nothing will ruin one quicker than to dig a ditch on each side and drain all the water away. The best way to make such a road firm is to keep it constantly damp. Very bushy or shady trees alongside such roads prevent the evaporation of water. The usual way of mending roads which run over loose sandy soils is to cover the surface with tough clay or mix the clay and sand together. This is quite an expensive treatment if the clay has to be transported a great distance, but the expense may be reduced by improving only eight or ten feet or half of the roadway. Any strong, fibrous substance, and especially one which holds moisture, such as the refuse of sugar cane or sorghum, and even common straw, flax, or swamp grass, will be useful. Spent tan is of some service, and wood fiber in any form is excellent. The best is the fibrous sawdust made in sawing shingles by those machines which cut lengthwise of the fiber into the side of the block. Sawdust is first spread on the road from eight to ten inches deep, and this is covered with sand to protect the road against fire lighted from pipes or cigars carelessly thrown or emptied on the roadbed. The sand also keeps the sawdust damp. The dust and sand soon become hard and packed, and the wheels of the heaviest wagons make but little impression upon the surface. The roadbed appears to be almost as solid as a plank road, but is much easier for the teams. The road prepared in this manner will remain good for four or five years and will then require renewing in some parts. The ordinary lumber sawdust would not be so good, of course, but if mixed with planer shavings might serve fairly well. Roads built of poles or logs laid across the roadway are called corduroy roads, because of their corrugated or ribbed appearance. Like earth roads, they should never be built where it is possible to secure any other good material; but, as is frequently the case in swampy, timbered regions, other material is unavailable, and as the road would be absolutely impassable without them at certain seasons of the year, it is well to know how to make them. Roads of this character should be fifteen or sixteen feet wide, so as to enable wagons to pass each other. Logs are superior to poles for this purpose and should be used if possible. The following in regard to the construction of corduroy roads is from Gilmore's _Roads, Streets, and Pavements_: "The logs are all cut the same length, which should be that of the required width of the road, and in laying them down such care in selection should be exercised as will give the smallest joints or openings between them. In order to reduce as much as possible the resistance to draft and the violence of the repeated shocks to which vehicles are subjected upon these roads, and also to render its surface practicable for draft animals, it is customary to level up between the logs with smaller pieces of the same length but split to a triangular cross section. These are inserted with edges downward in the open joints, so as to bring their surface even with the upper sides of the large logs, or as nearly so as practicable. "Upon the bed thus prepared a layer of brushwood is put, with a few inches in thickness, with soil or turf on top to keep it in place. This completes the road. The logs are laid directly upon the natural surface of the soil, those of the same or nearly of the same diameter being kept together, and the top covering of soil is excavated from side ditches. "Cross drains may usually be omitted in roads of this kind, as the openings between the logs, even when laid with utmost care, will furnish more than ample water way for drainage from the ditch on the upper to that on the lower side of the road. When the passage of a creek of considerable volume is to be provided for, and in localities subject to freshets, cross drains or culverts are made wherever necessary by the omission of two or more logs, the openings being bridged with planks, split rails, or poles laid transversely to the axis of the road and resting on cross beams notched into the logs on either side." The essential requirement of a good road is that it should be firm and unyielding at all times and in all kinds of weather, so that its surface may be smooth and impervious to water. Earth roads at best fulfil none of these requirements, unless they be covered with some artificial material. On a well-made gravel road one horse can draw twice as large a load as he can on a well-made earth road. On a hard smooth stone road one horse can pull as much as four horses will on a good earth road. If larger loads can be hauled and better time made on good hard roads than on good earth ones, the area and the number of people benefited are increased in direct proportion to the improvement of their surface. Moreover, it is evident that a farm four or five miles from the market or shipping point located on or near a hard road is virtually nearer the market than one situated only two or three miles away, but located on a soft and yielding road. Hard roads are divided here into three classes--gravel, shell, and stone. Although it is impracticable, and in many cases impossible, for communities to build good stone roads, a surface of gravel may frequently be used to advantage, giving far better results than could be attained by the use of earth alone. Where beds of good gravel are available this is the simplest, cheapest, and most effective method of improving country roads. [Illustration: GRAVEL ROAD NEAR SOLDIERS' HOME, DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA] In connection with the building and maintenance of gravel roads the most important matter to consider is that of selecting the proper material. A small proportion of argillaceous sand, clayey, or earthy matter contained in some gravel enables it to pack readily and consolidate under traffic or the road roller. Seaside and river gravel, which is composed usually of rounded, waterworn pebbles, is unfit for surfacing roads. The small stones of which they are composed, having no angular projections or sharp edges, easily move or slide against each other, and will not bind together, and even when mixed with clay may turn freely, causing the whole surface to be loose, like materials in a shaken sieve. Inferior qualities of gravel can sometimes be used for foundations; but where it becomes necessary to employ such material even for that purpose it is well to mix just enough sandy or clayey loam to bind it firmly together. For the wearing surface or the top layer the pebbles should, if possible, be comparatively clean, hard, angular, and tough, so that they will readily consolidate and will not be easily pulverized by the impact of traffic, into dust and mud. They should be coarse, varying in size from half an inch to an inch and one-half. Where blue gravel or hardpan and clean bank gravel are procurable, a good road may be made by mixing the two together. Pit gravel or gravel dug from the earth as a rule contains too much earthy matter. This may, however, be removed by sifting. For this purpose two sieves are necessary, through which the gravel should be thrown. The meshes of one sieve should be one and one-half or two inches in diameter, while the meshes of the other should be three-fourths of an inch. All pebbles which will not go through the one and one-half inch meshes should be rejected or broken so that they will go through. All material which sifts through the three-fourths inch meshes should be rejected for the road, but may be used in making side paths. The excellent road which can be built from materials prepared in this way is so far superior to the one made of the natural clayey material that the expense and trouble of sifting is many times repaid. The best gravel for road-building stands perpendicular in the bank; that is, when the pit has been opened up the remainder stands compact and firm and cannot be dislodged except by use of the pick, and when it gives way falls in great chunks or solid masses. Such material usually contains tough angular gravel with just enough cementing properties to enable it to readily pack and consolidate, and requires no further treatment than to place it properly on the prepared roadbed. Some earth roads may be greatly improved by covering the surface with a layer of three or four inches of gravel, and sometimes even a thinner layer may prove of very great benefit if kept in proper repair. The subsoil of such roadway ought, however, to be well drained, or of a light and porous nature. Roads constructed over clay soils require a layer of at least six inches of gravel. The gravel must be deep enough to prevent the weight of traffic forcing the surface material into weak places in the clay beneath, and also to prevent the surface water from percolating through and softening the clay and causing the whole roadway to be torn up. Owing to a lack of knowledge regarding construction, indifference, or carelessness in building or improving, roads made of gravel are often very much worse than they ought to be. Some of them are made by simply dumping the material into ruts, mud holes, or gutter-like depressions, or on unimproved foundation, and are left thus for traffic to consolidate, while others are made by covering the surface with inferior material without any attention being paid to the fundamental principles of drainage. As a result of such thoughtless and haphazard methods the road usually becomes rougher and more completely covered with holes than before. In constructing a gravel road the roadbed should first be brought to the proper grade. Ordinarily an excavation is then made to the depth of eight to ten inches, varying in width with the requirements of traffic. For a farm or farming community the width need not be greater than ten or twelve feet. A roadway which is too wide is not only useless, but the extra width is a positive damage. Any width beyond that needed for the traffic is not only a waste of money in constructing the road, but is the cause of a never-ending expense in maintaining it. The surface of the roadbed should preferably have a fall from the center to the sides the same as that to be given the finished road, and should, if possible, be thoroughly rolled and consolidated until perfectly smooth and firm. A layer, not thicker than four inches, of good gravel, such as that recommended above, should then be spread evenly over the prepared roadbed. Such material is usually carried upon a road in wheelbarrows or dump carts, and then spread in even layers with rakes, but the latest and best device for this purpose is a spreading cart. If a roller cannot be had, the road is thrown open to traffic until it becomes fairly well consolidated; but it is impossible properly to consolidate materials by the movement of vehicles over the road, and if this means is pursued constant watchfulness is necessary to prevent unequal wear and to keep the surface smooth and free from ruts. The work may be hastened and facilitated by the use of a horse roller or light steam roller; and of course far better results can be accomplished by this means. If the gravel be too dry to consolidate easily it should be kept moist by sprinkling. It should not, however, be made too wet, as any earthy or clayey matter in the gravel is liable to be dissolved. As soon as the first layer has been properly consolidated, a second, third, and, if necessary, fourth layer, each three or four inches in thickness, is spread on and treated in the same manner, until the road is built up to the required thickness and cross section. The thickness in most cases need not be greater than ten or twelve inches, and the fall from the center to the sides ought not to be greater than one foot in twenty feet, or less than one in twenty-five. The last or surface layer should be rolled until the wheels of heavily loaded vehicles passing over it make no visible impression. If the top layer is deficient in binding material and will not properly consolidate, a thin layer, not exceeding one inch in thickness, of sand or gravelly loam or clay, should be evenly spread on and slightly sprinkled if in dry weather, before the rolling is begun. Hardpan or stone screenings are much preferred for this purpose if they can be had. The tendency of material to spread under the roller and work toward the sides can be resisted by rolling that portion nearest the gutters first. To give the surface the required form and to secure uniform density, it is necessary at times to employ men with rakes to fill any depressions which may form. In order to maintain a gravel road in good condition, it is well to keep piles of gravel alongside at frequent intervals, so that the person who repairs the road can get the material without going too far for it. As soon as ruts or holes appear on the surface some of this good fresh material should be added and tamped into position or kept raked smooth until properly consolidated. If the surface needs replenishing or rounding up, as is frequently the case with new roads after considerable wear, the material should be applied in sections or patches, raked and rolled until hard and smooth. Care must be taken that the water from higher places does not drain upon or run across the road. The side ditches, culverts, and drains should be kept open and free from débris. In many of the Eastern and Southern States road stones do not exist; neither is it possible to secure good coarse gravel. No such material can be secured except at such an expense for freight as to practically preclude its use for road-building. Oyster shells can be secured cheaply in most of these states, and when applied directly upon sand or sandy soil, eight or ten inches in thickness, they form excellent roads for pleasure driving and light traffic. Shells wear much more rapidly than broken stone or gravel of good quality, and consequently roads made of them require more constant attention to keep them in good order. In most cases they should have an entirely new surface every three or four years. When properly maintained they possess many of the qualities found in good stone or gravel roads, and so far as beauty is concerned they cannot be surpassed. The greatest obstacles to good stone road construction in most places in the United States are the existing methods of building and systems of management, whereby millions of dollars are annually wasted in improper construction or in making trifling repairs on temporary structures. [Illustration: OYSTER-SHELL OBJECT-LESSON ROAD [_In course of construction, near Mobile, Alabama_]] The practice of using too soft, too brittle, or rotten material on roads cannot be too severely condemned. Some people seem to think that if a stone quarries easily, breaks easily, and packs readily, it is the very best stone for road-building. This practice, together with that of placing the material on unimproved foundations and leaving it thus for traffic to consolidate, has done a great deal to destroy the confidence of many people in stone roads. There is no reason in the world why a road should not last for ages if it is built of good material and kept in proper repair. If this is not done, the money spent is more than wasted. It is more economical, as a rule, to bring good materials a long distance by rail or water than to employ inferior ones procured close at hand. The durability of roads depends largely upon the power of the materials of which they are composed to resist those natural and artificial forces which are constantly acting to destroy them. The fragments of which they are constructed are liable to be attacked in cold climates by frost, and in all climates by water and wind. If composed of stone or gravel, the particles are constantly grinding against each other and being exposed to the impact of the tires of vehicles and the feet of animals. Atmospheric agencies are also at work decomposing and disintegrating the material. It is obviously necessary, therefore, that great care be exercised in selecting for the surfacing of roads those stones which are less liable to be destroyed or decomposed by these physical, dynamical, and chemical forces. Siliceous materials, those composed of flint or quartz, although hard, are brittle and deficient in toughness. Granite is not desirable because it is composed of three materials of different natures, viz., quartz, feldspar, and mica, the first of which is brittle, the second liable to decompose rapidly, and the third laminable or of a scaly or layerlike nature. Some granites which contain hornblende instead of feldspar are desirable. The darker the variety the better. Gneiss, which is composed of quartz, feldspar, and mica, more or less distinctly slaty, is inferior to granite. Mica-slate stones are altogether useless. The argillaceous slates or clayey slates make a smooth surface, but one which is easily destroyed when wet. The sandstones are utterly useless for road-building. The tougher limestones are very good, but the softer ones, though they bind and make a smooth surface very quickly, are too weak for heavy loads; they wear, wash, and blow away very rapidly. The materials employed for surfacing roads should be both hard and tough, and should possess by all means cementing and recementing qualities. For the Southern States, where there are no frosts to contend with, the best qualities of limestone are considered quite satisfactory so far as the cementing and recementing qualities are concerned; but in most cases roads of this class of material do not stand the wear and tear of traffic like those built of trap rock, and when exposed to the severe northern winters such material disintegrates very rapidly. In fact, trap rock, "nigger heads," technically known as diabase, and diorites, are considered by most road engineers of long experience to be the very best stones for road-building. Trap rocks as a rule possess all the qualities most desired for road stones. They are hard and tough, and when properly broken to small sizes and rolled thoroughly, cement and consolidate into a smooth, hard crust which is impervious to water, and the broken particles are so heavy that they are not readily broken or washed away. Unfortunately the most useful stones for road-building are the most difficult to prepare, and as trap rocks are harder to break than any other stones they usually cost more. The foundation or lower courses may be formed of some of the softer stones like gneiss or limestone, but trap rock should be used for the wearing surface, if possible, even if it has to be brought from a distance. As to the construction of macadam roads, Mr. Potter says: "In the construction of a macadam road in any given locality, the question of economy generally compels us to use a material found near at hand, and where a local quarry does not exist field stone and stone gathered from the beds of rivers and small streams may often be made to serve every purpose. Many of the stones and boulders thus obtained are of trap rock, and in general it may be said that all hard field and river stones, if broken to a proper size, will make fairly good and sometimes very excellent road metal. No elaborate test is required to determine the hardness of any given specimen. A steel hammer in the hands of an intelligent workman will reveal in a general way the relative degree of toughness of two or more pieces of rock. Field and river stone offer an additional advantage in that they are quickly handled, are generally of convenient size, and are more readily broken either by hand or by machine than most varieties of rock which are quarried in the usual way. "It is a simple task to break stone for macadam roadways, and by the aid of modern inventions it can be done cheaply and quickly. Hand-broken stone is fairly out of date and is rarely used in America where any considerable amount of work is to be undertaken. Stone may be broken by hand at different points along the roadside where repairs are needed from time to time, but the extra cost of production by this method forbids its being carried on where extended work is undertaken. Hand-broken stone is generally more uniform in size, more nearly cubical in shape, and has sharper angles than that broken by machinery, but the latter, when properly assorted or screened, has been found to meet every requirement. "A good crusher driven by eight horsepower will turn out from forty to eighty cubic yards of two-inch stone per day of ten hours, and will cost from four hundred dollars upward, according to quality. "Some crushers are made either stationary, semistationary, or portable, according to the needs of the purchaser, and for country-road work it is sometimes very desirable to have a portable crusher to facilitate its easy transfer from one part of the township to another. The same portable engine that is used in thrashing, sawing wood, and other operations requiring the use of steam power may be used in running a stone crusher, but it is best to remember that a crusher will do its best and most economical work when run by a machine having a horsepower somewhat in excess of the power actually required. "As the stone comes from the breaker the pieces will be found to show a considerable variety in size, and by many practical road-makers it is regarded as best that these sizes should be assorted and separated, since each has its particular use. To do this work by hand would be troublesome and expensive, and screens are generally employed for that purpose. Screens are not absolutely necessary, and many road-makers do not use them; but they insure uniformity in size of pieces, and uniformity means in many cases superior wear, smoothness, and economy. Most of the screens in common use today are of the rotary kind. In operating they are generally so arranged that the product of the crusher falls directly into the rotary screen, which revolves on an inclined axis and empties the separate pieces into small bins below the crusher. A better form for many purposes includes a larger and more elaborate outfit, in which the stone is carried by an elevator to the screen and by the screen emptied into separate bins according to the respective sizes. From the bins it is easily loaded into wagons or spreading carts and hauled to any desired point along the line of the road. "The size to which stone should be broken depends upon the quality of the stone, the amount of traffic to which the road will be subjected, and to some extent upon the manner in which the stone is put in place. If a hard, tough stone is employed it may be broken into rough cubes or pieces of about one and a half inches in largest face dimensions, and when broken to such a size the product of the crusher may generally be used to good advantage without the trouble of screening, since dust 'tailings' and fine stuff do not accumulate in large quantities in the breaking of the tougher stone. "If only moderate traffic is to be provided for, the harder limestones may be broken so the pieces will pass through a two-inch ring, though sizes running from two and a quarter to two and a half inches will insure a more durable roadway, and if a steam roller is used in compacting the metal it will be brought to a smooth surface without much trouble. As a rule, it may be said that to adhere closely to a size running from two and a quarter to two and a half inches in largest face dimensions, and to use care in excluding too large a proportion of small stuff as well as all pieces of excessive size, will insure a satisfactory and durable macadam road." Macadam insisted that no large stone should ever be employed in road-making, and, indeed, most modern road builders practice his principle that "small angular fragments are the cardinal requirements." As a general rule it has been stated that no stone larger than a walnut should be used for the surfacing of roads. Stone roads are built in most cases according to the principles laid down by John L. Macadam, while some are built by the methods advocated by Telford. The most important difference between these two principles of construction relates to the propriety or necessity of a paved foundation beneath the crust of broken stone. Telford advocated this principle, while Macadam strongly denied its advantages. In building roads very few iron-clad rules can be laid down for universal application; skill and judgment must be exercised in designing and building each road so that it will best meet the requirements of the place it is to occupy. The relative value of the telford and macadam systems can most always be determined by the local circumstances, conditions, and necessities under which the road is to be built. The former system seems to have the advantage in swampy, wet places, or where the soil is in strata varying in hardness, or where the foundation is liable to get soft in spots. Under most other circumstances experienced road builders prefer the macadam construction, not only because it is considered best, but also because it is much cheaper. The macadam road consists of a mass of angular fragments of rock deposited usually in layers upon the roadbed or prepared foundation and consolidated to a smooth, hard surface produced by the passage of vehicles or by use of a road roller. The thickness of this crust varies with the soil, the nature of the stone used, and the amount of traffic which the road is expected to have. It should be so thick that the greatest load will not affect the foundation. The weight usually comes upon a very small part of the surface, but is spread over a large area of the foundation, and the thicker the crust the more uniformly will the load be distributed over the foundation. Macadam earnestly advocated the principle that all artificial road-building depended wholly for its success upon the making and maintaining of a solid dry foundation and the covering of this foundation with a durable waterproof coating or roof of broken stone. The foundation must be solid and firm; if it be otherwise the crust is useless. A road builder should always remember that without a durable foundation there is no durable road. Hundreds of miles of macadam roads are built in the United States each year on unimproved or unstable foundations and almost as many miles go to pieces for this same reason. Says Macadam: "The stone is employed to form a secure, smooth, water-tight flooring, over which vehicles may pass with safety and expedition at all seasons of the year. Its thickness should be regulated only by the quality of the material necessary to form such a flooring and not at all by any consideration as to its own independent power of bearing weight.... The erroneous idea that the evils of an underdrained, wet, clayey soil can be remedied by a large quantity of materials has caused a large part of the costly and unsuccessful expenditures in making stone roads." The evils from improper construction of stone roads are even greater than those resulting from the use of improper material. Macadam never intended that a heterogeneous conglomeration of stones and mud should be called a macadam road. The mistake is often made of depositing broken stone on an old road without first preparing a suitable foundation. The result, in most cases, is that the dirt and mud prevent the stone from packing and by the action of traffic ooze to the surface, while the stones sink deeper and deeper, leaving the road as bad as before. Another great mistake is often made of spreading large and small stones over a well-graded and well-drained foundation and leaving them thus for traffic to consolidate. The surface of a road left in this manner is often kept in constant turmoil by the larger stones, which work themselves to the surface and are knocked hither and thither by the wheels of vehicles and the feet of animals. These plans of construction cannot be too severely condemned. The roadbed should be first graded, then carefully surface-drained. The earth should then be excavated to the depth to which material is to be spread on and the foundation properly shaped and sloped each way from the center so as to discharge any water which may percolate through. This curvature should conform to the curvature of the finished road. A shouldering of firm earth or gravel should be left or made on each side to hold the material in place, and should extend to the gutters at the same curvature as the finished road. The foundation should then be rolled until hard and smooth. Upon this bed spread a layer of five or six inches of broken stone, which stone should be free from any earthy mixture. This layer should be thoroughly rolled until compact and firm. Stone may be hauled from the stone-crusher bins or from the stone piles in ordinary wheelbarrows or from wagons, and should be distributed broadcast over the surface with shovels, and all inequalities leveled up by the use of rakes. If this method of spreading is employed, grade stakes should be used so as to insure a uniformity of thickness. After the stakes are driven the height of the layer is marked on their sides, and if thought necessary a piece of stout cord is stretched from stake to stake, showing the exact height to which the layer should be spread. Spreading carts have been recently invented which not only place the stone where it is needed without the use of shovels, but spread it on in layers of any desired thickness and at the same time several inches wider than the carts themselves. If the stones have been separated into two or three different sizes, the largest size should compose the bottom layer, the next size the second layer, etc. The surface of each course or layer should be thoroughly and repeatedly rolled and sprinkled until it becomes firm, compact, and smooth. The first layer, however, should not be sprinkled, as the water is liable to soften the foundation. The rolling ought to be done along the side lines first, gradually working toward the center as the job is being completed. In rolling the last course it is well to begin by rolling first the shoulderings or the side roads if such exist. A coat of three-quarter inch stone and screenings, of sufficient thickness to make a smooth and uniform surface, should compose the last course, and, like the other layers, should be rolled until perfectly firm and smooth. As a final test of perfection, a small stone placed on the surface will be crushed before being driven into the material. If none of the stones used be larger than will pass through a two-inch ring, they can be spread on in layers as above described without separating them by screens. Water and binding material--stone screenings or good packing gravel--can be added if found necessary for proper consolidation. Earth or clay should never be used for a binding material. Enough water should be sprinkled on to wash in and fill all voids between the broken stones with binding material and to leave such material damp enough to insure a set. If a road is built of tough, hard stone, and if the binding material has the same characteristics, a steam roller is essential for speedy results. A horse roller may be used to good advantage if the softer varieties of stone are employed. For general purposes a roller weighing from eight to twelve tons is all that is necessary. Heavier weights are difficult to handle upon unimproved surfaces unless they be constructed like the Addison roller, the weight of which can be increased or lightened at will by filling the drum with water or drawing the water out. This roller can be made to weigh as much as eight tons and, like several other very excellent ones now on the market, is provided with anti-friction roller bearings, which lighten the draft considerably. Every stone road, unless properly built with small stones and just enough binding material to fill the voids, presents a honeycombed appearance. In fact, a measure containing two cubic feet of broken stone will hold in addition one cubic foot of water, and a cubic yard of broken macadam will weigh just about one-half as much as a solid cubic yard of the same kind of stone. Isaac Potter says: "To insure a solid roadway and to fill the large proportion of voids or interstices between the different pieces of broken stone, some finer material must be introduced into the structure of the roadway, and this material is usually called a binder, or by some road-makers a 'filler.' "There used to be much contention regarding the use of binding material in the making of a macadam road, but it is now conceded by nearly all practical and experienced road-makers, both in Europe and America, that the use of a binding material is essential to the proper construction of a good macadam road. It adds to its solidity, insures tightness by closing all of the spaces between the loose, irregular stones, and binds together the macadam crust in a way that gives it firmness, elasticity, and durability." Binding material to produce the best results should be equal in hardness and toughness with the road stone; the best results are therefore obtained by using screenings or spalls from the broken stone used. Coarse sand and gravel can sometimes be used with impunity as a binder, but the wisdom of using loam or clay is very much questioned. When the latter material is used for a binder the road is apt to become very dusty in dry weather, and sticky, muddy, and rutty in wet weather. The character of the foundation should never take the place of proper drainage. The advisability of underground or subdrainage should always be carefully considered where the road is liable to be attacked from beneath by water. In most cases good subdrains will so dry the foundation out that the macadam construction can be resorted to. Sometimes, however, thorough drainage is difficult or doubtful, and in such cases it is desirable to adopt some heavy construction like the telford; and, furthermore, the difficulty of procuring perfectly solid and reliable roadbeds in many places is often overcome by the use of this system. In making a telford road the surface for the foundation is prepared in the same manner as for a macadam road. A layer of broken stone is then placed on the roadbed from five to eight inches in depth, depending upon the thickness to be given the finished road. As a rule this foundation should form about two-thirds of the total thickness of the material. The stone used for the first layer may vary in thickness from two to four inches and in length from eight to twelve inches. The thickness of the upper edges of the stones should not exceed four inches. They are set by hand on their broadest edges lengthwise across the road, breaking joints as much as possible. All projecting points are then broken off and the interstices or cracks filled with stone chips, and the whole structure wedged and consolidated into a solid and complete pavement. Upon this pavement layers of broken stones are spread and treated in the same way as for a macadam road. Stone roads should be frequently scraped, so as to remove all dust and mud. Nothing destroys a stone road quicker than dust or mud. The hand method of scraping with a hoe is considered best. No matter how carefully adjusted the machinery built for this purpose may be, it is liable to ravel a road by loosening some of the stones. The gutters and surface drains should be kept open, so that all water falling upon the road or on the adjacent ground may promptly flow away. Says Spalding, a road authority: "If the road metal be of soft material which wears easily, it will require constant supervision and small repairs whenever a rut or depression may appear. Material of this kind binds readily with new material that may be added, and may in this manner frequently be kept in good condition without great difficulty, while if not attended to at once when wear begins to show it will very rapidly increase, to the great detriment of the road. In making repairs by this method the material is commonly placed a little at a time and compacted by passing vehicles. The material used for this purpose should be the same as that of the road surface and not fine material, which would soon reduce to powder under the loads which come upon it. By careful attention to minute repairs in this manner a surface may be kept in good condition until it wears so thin as to require renewal. "In case the road be of harder material, that will not so readily combine when a thin coating is added, repairs may not be frequent, as the surface will not wear so rapidly, and immediate attention is not so important. It is usually more satisfactory in this case to make more extensive repairs at one time, as a larger quantity of material added at once may be more readily compacted to a uniform surface, the repairs taking the form of an additional layer upon the road. "Where the material of the road surface is very hard and durable, a well-constructed road may wear quite evenly and require hardly any attention, beyond ordinary small repairs, until worn out. It is now usually considered the best practice to leave such a road to itself until it wears very thin, and then renew it by an entirely new layer of broken stone placed on the worn surface and without in any way disturbing that surface. "If a thin layer only of material is to be added at one time, in order that it may unite firmly with the upper layer of the road, it is usually necessary to break the bond of the surface material before placing the new layer, either by picking it up by hand or by a steam roller with short spikes in its surface, if such a machine is at hand. Care should be taken in doing this, however, that only the surface layer be loosened and that the solidity of the body of the road be not disturbed, as might be the case if the spikes are too long." In repairing roads the time-honored custom of waiting until the road has lost its shape or until the surface has become filled with holes or ruts should never be tolerated. Much good material is wasted by spreading a thick coat over such a road and leaving it thus for passing vehicles to consolidate. The material necessary to replace defects in a road should be added when the necessities arise and should be of the best quality and the smallest possible quantity. If properly laid in small patches the inconvenience to traffic will be scarcely perceptible. If such repairs are made in damp weather, as they ought to be, little or no difficulty is experienced in getting a layer of stone to consolidate properly. If mud fills the rut or hole to be repaired, it should be carefully removed before the material is placed. Wide tires should be used on all heavy vehicles which traverse stone roads. A four or five inch stone or gravel road will last longer without repair when wide tires are used than an eight or ten inch road of the same material on which narrow tires are used. Not only should brush and weeds be removed from the roadside, but grass should be sown, trees planted, and a side path or walk be prepared for the use of pedestrians, especially women and children, going to and coming from church, school, and places of business and amusement. Country roads can be made far more useful and attractive than they usually are, and this may be secured by the expenditure of only a small amount of labor and money. Although such improvements are not necessary, they make the surroundings attractive and inviting and add to the value of property and the pleasure of the traveler. If trees are planted alongside the road they should be far enough back to admit the wind and sun. Most strong growing trees are apt to extend their roots under the gutters and even beneath the roadway if they are planted too close to the roadside. Even if they be planted at a safe distance those varieties should be selected which send their roots downward rather than horizontally. The most useful and beautiful tree corresponding with these requirements is the chestnut, while certain varieties of the pear, cherry, and mulberry answer the same purpose. Where there is no danger of roots damaging the subdrainage or the substructure of the road, some other favorite varieties would be elms, rock maples, horse-chestnuts, beeches, pines, and cedars. Climate, variety of species selected, and good judgment will determine the distance between such trees. Elms should be thirty feet apart, while the less spreading varieties need not be so far. The trunks should be trimmed to a considerable height, so as to admit the sun and air. Fruit trees are planted along the roadsides in Germany and Switzerland, while mulberry trees may be seen along the roads in France, serving the twofold purpose of food for silkworms and shade. If some of our many varieties of useful, fruitful, and beautiful trees were planted along the roads in this country, and if some means could be devised for protecting the product, enough revenue could be derived therefrom to pay for the maintenance of the road along which they throw their grateful shade. The improvement of country roads is chiefly an economical question, relating principally to the waste of effort in hauling over bad roads, the saving in money, time, and energy in hauling over good ones, the initial cost of improving roads, and the difference in the cost of maintaining good and bad ones. It is not necessary to enlarge on this subject in order to convince the average reader that good roads reduce the resistance to traffic, and consequently the cost of transportation of products and goods to and from farms and markets is reduced to a minimum. The initial cost of a road depends upon the cost of materials, labor, machinery, the width and depth to which the material is to be spread on, and the method of construction. All these things vary so much in the different states that it is impossible to name the exact amount for which a mile of a certain kind of road can be built. The introduction in recent years of improved road-building machinery has enabled the authorities in some of the states to build improved stone and gravel roads quite cheaply. First-class single-track stone roads, nine feet wide, have been built near Canandaigua, New York, for $900 to $1,000 per mile. Many excellent gravel roads have been built in New Jersey for $1,000 to $1,300 per mile. The material of which they were constructed was placed on in two layers, each being raked and thoroughly rolled, and the whole mass consolidated to a thickness of eight inches. In the same state macadam roads have been built, for $2,000 to $5,000 per mile, varying in width from nine to twenty feet and in thickness of material from four to twelve inches. Telford roads fourteen feet wide and ten to twelve inches thick have been built in New Jersey for $4,000 to $6,000 per mile. Macadam roads have been built at Bridgeport and Fairfield, Connecticut, eighteen to twenty feet wide, for $3,000 to $5,000 per mile. A telford road sixteen feet wide and twelve inches thick was built at Fanwood, New Jersey, for $9,500 per mile. Macadam roads have been built in Rhode Island, sixteen to twenty feet wide, for $4,000 to $5,000 per mile. Massachusetts roads are costing all the way from $6,000 to $25,000 per mile. A mile of broken stone road, fifteen feet wide, costs in the state of Massachusetts about $5,700 per mile, while a mile of the same width and kind of road costs in the state of New Jersey only $4,700. This is due partly to the fact that the topography of Massachusetts is somewhat rougher than that of New Jersey, necessitating the reduction of many steep grades and the building of expensive retaining walls and bridges, and partly to the difference in methods of construction and the difference in prices of materials, labor, etc. Doubtless the state of New Jersey is building more roads and better roads for less money per mile than any other state in the Union. Its roads are now costing from twenty to seventy cents per square yard. Where the telford construction is used they sometimes cost as much as seventy-three cents per square yard. The average cost of all classes of the roads of that state during the last season was about fifty cents per square yard. The stone was, as a rule, spread on to a depth of nine inches, which, after rolling, gave a depth of about eight inches. At this rate a single-track road eight feet wide costs about $2,346 per mile, while a double-track road fourteen feet wide costs about $4,106 per mile, and one eighteen feet wide costs about $5,280 per mile. Where the material is spread on so as to consolidate to a four-inch layer the eight-foot road will cost about $1,173 per mile, the fourteen-foot road about $2,053 per mile, while the one eighteen feet wide will cost about $2,640 per mile. [Illustration: EARTH AND MACADAM ROADS [_Built by convict labor in Mecklenburg County, North Carolina_]] The total cost of maintaining roads in good order ranges, on account of varying conditions, between as wide limits almost as the initial cost of construction. Suffice it to say that all money spent on repairing earth roads becomes each year a total loss without materially improving their condition. They are, as a rule, the most expensive roads that can be used, while on the other hand stone roads, if properly constructed of good material and kept in perfect condition, are the most satisfactory, the cheapest, and most economical roads that can be constructed. The road that will best suit the needs of the farmer, in the first place, must not be too costly; and, in the second place, must be of the very best kind, for farmers should be able to do their heavy hauling over them when their fields are too wet to work and their teams would otherwise be idle. The best road for the farmer, all things being considered, is a solid, well-built stone road, so narrow as to be only a single track, but having a firm earth road on one or both sides. Where the traffic is not very extensive the purposes of good roads are better served by narrow tracks than by wide ones, while many of the objectionable features of wide tracks are removed, the initial cost of construction is cut down one-half or more, and the charges for repair reduced in proportion. FOOTNOTES: [6] By Hon. Maurice O. Eldridge, Assistant Director Office of Public Road Inquiries. CHAPTER IV THE SELECTION OF MATERIALS FOR MACADAM ROADS[7] No one rock can be said to be a universally excellent road material. The climatic conditions vary so much in different localities, and the volume and character of traffic vary so much on different roads, that the properties necessary to meet all the requirements can be found in no one rock. If the best macadam road be desired, that material should be selected which best meets the conditions of the particular road for which it is intended. The movement for better country roads which has received such an impetus from the bicycle organizations is still felt, and is gaining force from the rapid introduction of horseless vehicles. To this demand, which comes in a large measure from the urban population, is to be added that of the farmer, who is wakening to the fact that good roads greatly increase the profits from his farm produce, and thus materially better his condition; and to the farmer, indeed, we must look for any real improvement in our country roads. In considering the comparative values of different rocks for road-building, it must be taken for granted in all cases that the road is properly laid out, constructed, and maintained. For if this is not the case, only inferior results can be expected, no matter how good the material may be. In most cases the selection of a material for road-making is determined more by its cheapness and convenience of location than by any properties it may possess. But when we consider the number of roads all over our country which are bad from neglect and from obsolete methods of maintenance that would be much improved by the use of any rock, this regard for economy is not to be entirely deprecated. At the same time, as a careless selection leads to costly and inferior results, too much care cannot be used in selecting the proper material when good roads are desired at the lowest cost. When macadam roads are first introduced into a district they are at worst so far superior to the old earth roads that the question is rarely asked, whether, if another material had been used, better roads would not have been obtained, and this at a smaller cost. When mistakes are made they are not generally discovered until much time and money have been expended on inferior roads. Such errors can in a great measure be avoided if reasonable care is taken in the selection of a suitable material. To select a material in a haphazard way, without considering the needs of the particular road on which it is to be used, is not unlike an ill person taking the nearest medicine at hand, without reference to the nature of the malady or the properties of the drug. If a road is bad, the exact trouble must first be ascertained before the proper remedy can be applied. If the surface of a macadam road continues to be too muddy or dusty after the necessary drainage precautions have been followed, then the rock of which it is constructed lacks sufficient hardness or toughness to meet the traffic to which it is subjected. If, on the contrary, the fine binding material of the surface is carried off by wind and rain and is not replaced by the wear of the coarser fragments, the surface stones will soon loosen and allow water to make its way freely to the foundation and bring about the destruction of the road. Such conditions are brought about by an excess of hardness or toughness of the rock for the traffic. Under all conditions a rock of high cementing value is desirable; for, other things being equal, such a rock better resists the wear of traffic and the action of wind and rain. This subject, however, will be referred to again. Until comparatively recent years but little was known of the relative values of the different varieties of rock as road material, and good results were obtained more by chance and general observation than through any special knowledge of the subject. These conditions, however, do not obtain at present, for the subject has received a great deal of careful study, and a fairly accurate estimate can be made of the fitness of a rock for any conditions of climate and traffic. In road-building the attempt should be made to get a perfectly smooth surface, not too hard, too slippery, or too noisy, and as free as possible from mud and dust, and these results are to be attained and maintained as cheaply as possible. Such results, however, can only be had by selecting the material and methods of construction best suited to the conditions. In selecting a road material it is well to consider the agencies of destruction to roads that have to be met. Among the most important are the wearing action of wheels and horses' feet, frost, rain, and wind. To find materials that can best withstand these agencies under all conditions is the great problem that confronts the road-builder. Before going further, it will be well to consider some of the physical properties of rock which are important in road-building, for the value of a road material is dependent in a large measure on the degree to which it possesses these properties. There are many such properties that affect road-building, but only three need be mentioned here. They are hardness, toughness, and cementing or binding power. By hardness is meant the power possessed by a rock to resist the wearing action caused by the abrasion of wheels and horses' feet. Toughness, as understood by road-builders, is the adhesion between the crystal and fine particles of a rock, which gives it power to resist fracture when subjected to the blows of traffic. This important property, while distinct from hardness, is yet intimately associated with it, and can in a measure make up for a deficiency in hardness. Hardness, for instance, would be the resistance offered by a rock to the grinding of an emery wheel; toughness, the resistance to fracture when struck with a hammer. Cementing or binding power is the property possessed by the dust of a rock to act, after wetting, as a cement to the coarser fragments composing the road, binding them together and forming a smooth, impervious shell over the surface. Such a shell, formed by a rock of high cementing value, protects the underlying material from wear and acts as a cushion to the blows from horses' feet, and at the same time resists the waste of material caused by wind and rain, and preserves the foundation by shedding the surface water. Binding power is thus, probably, the most important property to be sought for in a road-building rock, as its presence is always necessary for the best results. The hardness and toughness of the binder surface more than of the rock itself represents the hardness and toughness of the road, for if the weight of traffic is sufficient to destroy the bond of cementation of the surface, the stones below are soon loosened and forced out of place. When there is an absence of binding material, which often occurs when the rock is too hard for the traffic to which it is subjected, the road soon loosens or ravels. Experience shows that a rock possessing all three of the properties mentioned in a high degree does not under all conditions make a good road material; on the contrary, under certain conditions it may be altogether unsuitable. As an illustration of this, if a country road or city park way, where only a light traffic prevails, were built of a very hard and tough rock with a high cementing value, neither the best, nor, if a softer rock were available, would the cheapest results be obtained. Such a rock would so effectively resist the wear of a light traffic that the amount of fine dust worn off would be carried away by wind and rain faster than it would be supplied by wear. Consequently the binder supplied by wear would be insufficient, and if not supplied from some other source the road would soon go to pieces. The first cost of such a rock would in most instances be greater than that of a softer one and the necessary repairs resulting from its use would also be very expensive. A very good illustration of this point is the first road built by the Massachusetts Highway Commission. This road is on the island of Nantucket and was subjected to a very light traffic. The commission desired to build the best possible road, and consequently ordered a very hard and tough trap rock from Salem, considered then to be the best macadam rock in the state. Delivered on the road this rock cost $3.50 per ton, the excessive price being due to the cost of transportation. The road was in every way properly constructed, and thoroughly rolled with a steam roller; but in spite of every precaution it soon began to ravel, and repeated rolling was only of temporary benefit, for the rock was too hard and tough for the traffic. Subsequently, when the road was resurfaced with limestone, which was much softer than the trap, it became excellent. Since then all roads built on the island have been constructed of native granite bowlders with good results, and at a much lower cost. If, however, this hard and tough rock, which gave such poor results at Nantucket, were used on a road where the traffic was sufficient to wear off an ample supply of binder, very much better results would be obtained than if a rock lacking both hardness and toughness were used; for, in the latter case, the wear would be so great that ruts would be formed which would prevent rain water draining from the surface. The water thus collecting on the surface would soon make its way to the foundation and destroy the road. The dust in dry weather would also be excessive. Only two examples of the misuse of a road material have been given, but, as they represent extreme conditions, it is easy to see the large number of intermediate mistakes that can be made, for there are few rocks even of the same variety that possess the same physical properties in a like degree. The climatic and physical conditions to which roads are subjected are equally varied. The excellence of a road material may, therefore, be said to depend entirely on the conditions which it is intended to meet. It may be well to mention a few other properties of rock that bear on road-building, though they will not be discussed here. There are some rocks, such as limestones, that are hygroscopic, or possess the power of absorbing moisture from the air, and in dry climates such rocks are distinctly valuable, as the cementation of rock dust is in a large measure dependent for its full development on the presence of water. The degree to which a rock absorbs water may also be important, for in cold climates this to some extent determines the liability of a rock to fracture by freezing. It is not so important, however, as the absorptive power of the road itself, for if a road holds much water the destruction wrought by frost is very great. This trouble is generally due to faulty construction rather than to the material. The density or weight of a rock is also considered of importance, as the heavier the rock the better it stays in place and the better it resists the action of wind and rain. Only a few of the properties of rock important to road builders have been considered, but if these are borne in mind when a material is to be selected better results are sure to be obtained. In selecting a road material the conditions to which it is to be subjected should first be considered. These are principally the annual rainfall, the average winter temperature, the character of prevailing winds, the grades, and the volume and character of the traffic that is to pass over the road. The climatic conditions are readily obtained from the Weather Bureau, and a satisfactory record of the volume and character of the traffic can be made by any competent person living in view of the road. In France the measuring of traffic has received a great deal of attention, and a census is kept for all the national highways. The traffic there is rated and reduced to units in the following manner: A horse hauling a public vehicle or cart loaded with produce or merchandise is considered as the unit of traffic. Each horse hauling an empty cart or private carriage counts as one-half unit; each horse, cow, or ox, unharnessed, and each saddle horse, one-fifth unit; each small animal (sheep, goat, or hog), one-thirtieth unit. A record is made of the traffic every thirteenth day throughout the year, and an average taken to determine its mean amount. Some such general method of classifying traffic in units is desirable, as it permits the traffic of a road to be expressed in one number. Before this French method can be applied to the traffic of our country it will be necessary to modify considerably the mode of rating. This, however, is a matter which can be studied and properly adjusted by the Office of Public Road Inquiries. It is most important to obtain a record of the average number of horses and vehicles and kind of vehicles that pass over an earth road in a day before the macadam road is built. The small cost of such a record is trifling when compared with the cost of a macadam road (from $4,000 to $10,000 per mile for a fifteen-foot road), in view of the fact that an error in the selection of material may cost a much larger sum of money. After a record of the traffic is obtained, if the road is to be built of crushed rock for the first time, an allowance for an immediate increase in traffic amounting at least to ten or fifteen per cent had best be made, for the improved road generally brings traffic from adjoining roads. To simplify the matter somewhat, the different classes of traffic to which roads are subjected may be divided into five groups, which may be called city, urban, suburban, highway, and country road traffic, respectively. City traffic is a traffic so great that no macadam road can withstand it, and is such as exists on the business streets of large cities. For such a traffic stone and wood blocks, asphalt, brick, or some such materials are necessary. Urban traffic is such as exists on city streets which are not subjected to continuous heavy teaming, but which have to withstand very heavy wear, and need the hardest and toughest macadam rock. Suburban traffic is such as is common in the suburbs of a city and the main streets of country towns. Highway traffic is a traffic equal to that of the main country roads. Country road traffic is a traffic equal to that of the less frequented country roads. The city traffic will not be considered here. For an urban traffic, the hardest and toughest rock, or in other words, a rock of the highest wearing quality that can be found, is best. For a suburban traffic the best rock would be one of high toughness but of less hardness than one for urban traffic. For highway traffic a rock of medium hardness and toughness is best. For country road traffic it is best to use a comparatively soft rock of medium toughness. In all cases high cementing value should be sought, and especially if the locality is very wet or windy. Rocks belonging to the same species and having the same name, such as traps, granites, quartzites, etc., vary almost as much in different localities in their physical road-building properties as they do from rocks of distinct species. This variation is also true of the mineral composition of rocks of the same species, as well as in the size and arrangement of their crystals. It is impossible, therefore, to classify rocks for road-building by simply giving their specific names. It can be said, however, that certain species of rock possess in common some road-building properties. For instance, the trap[8] rocks as a class are hard and tough and usually have binding power, and consequently stand heavy traffic well; and for this reason they are frequently spoken of as the best rocks for road-building. This, however, is not always true, for numerous examples can be shown where trap rock having the above properties in the highest degree has failed to give good results on light traffic roads. The reason trap rock has gained so much favor with road-builders is because a large majority of macadam roads in our country are built to stand an urban traffic, and the traps stand such a traffic better than any other single class of rocks. There are, however, other rocks that will stand an urban traffic perfectly well, and there are traps that are not sufficiently hard and tough for a suburban or highway traffic. The granites are generally brittle, and many of them do not bind well, but there are a great many which when used under proper conditions make excellent roads. The felsites are usually very hard and brittle, and many have excellent binding power, some varieties being suitable for the heaviest macadam traffic. Limestones generally bind well, are soft, and frequently hygroscopic. Quartzites are almost always very hard, brittle, and have very low binding power. The slates are usually soft, brittle, and lack binding power. The above generalizations are of necessity vague, and for practical purposes are of little value, since rocks of the same variety occurring in different localities have very wide ranges of character. It consequently happens in many cases, particularly where there are a number of rocks to choose from, that the difficulty of making the best selection is great, and this difficulty is constantly increasing with the rapidly growing facilities of transportation and the increased range of choice which this permits. On account of their desirable road properties some rocks are now shipped several hundred miles for use. There are but two ways in which the value of a rock as a road material can be accurately determined. One way, and beyond all doubt the surest, is to build sample roads of all the rocks available in a locality, to measure the traffic and wear to which they are subjected, and keep an accurate account of the cost both of construction and annual repairs for each. By this method actual results are obtained, but it has grave and obvious disadvantages. It is very costly (especially so when the results are negative), and it requires so great a lapse of time before results are obtained that it cannot be considered a practical method when macadam roads are first being built in a locality. Further than this, results thus obtained are not applicable to other roads and materials. Such a method, while excellent in its results, can only be adopted by communities which can afford the necessary time and money, and is entirely inadequate for general use. The other method is to make laboratory tests of the physical properties of available rocks in a locality, study the conditions obtaining on the particular road that is to be built, and then select the material that best suits the conditions. This method has the advantages of giving speedy results and of being inexpensive, and as far as the results of laboratory tests have been compared with the results of actual practice they have been found to agree. Laboratory tests on road materials were first adopted in France about thirty years ago, and their usefulness has been thoroughly established. The tests for rock there are to determine its degree of hardness, resistance to abrasion, and resistance to compression. In 1893 the Massachusetts Highway Commission established a laboratory at Harvard University for testing road materials. The French abrasion test was adopted, and tests for determining the cementing power and toughness of rock were added. Since then similar laboratories have been established at Johns Hopkins University, Columbia University, Wisconsin Geological Survey, Cornell University, and the University of California. The Department of Agriculture has now established a road-material laboratory in the Division of Chemistry, where any person residing in the United States may have road materials tested free by applying for instructions to the Office of Public Road Inquiries. The laboratory is equipped with the apparatus necessary for carrying on such work, and the Department intends to carry on general investigations on roads. Part of the general plan will be to make tests on actual roads for the purpose of comparing the results with those obtained in the laboratory. Besides testing road materials for the public, blank forms for recording traffic will be supplied by the department to any one intending to build a road. When these forms are filled and returned to the laboratory, together with the samples of materials available for building the road, the traffic of the road will be rated in its proper group, as described above; each property of the materials will be tested and similarly rated according to its degree, the climatic conditions will be considered, and expert advice given as to the proper choice to be made. FOOTNOTES: [7] By Logan Waller Page, expert in charge of Road Material Laboratory, Division of Chemistry. [8] This term is derived from the Swedish word _trappa_, meaning steps, and was originally applied to the crystallized basalts of the coast of Sweden, which much resemble steps in appearance. As now used by road builders, it embraces a large variety of igneous rocks, chiefly those of fine crystalline structure and of dark-blue, gray, and green colors. They are generally diabases, diorites, trachytes, and basalts.--PAGE. CHAPTER V STONE ROADS IN NEW JERSEY[9] As New Jersey contains a great variety of soils, there are many conditions to be met with in road construction. The northern part of the state is hilly, where we have clay, soft stone, hard stones, loose stones, quicksand, and marshes. In the eastern part of the state, particularly in the seashore sections, the roads are at their worst in summer in consequence of loose, dry sand, which sometimes drifts like snow. In west New Jersey, which comprises the southern end of the state, there is much loose, soft sand, considerable clay, marshes, and low lands not easily drained. In addition to the condition of the soil, there is the economic condition to be considered. In the vicinity of large towns or cities, where there is heavy carting by reason of manufactories and produce marketing, it is necessary to have heavy, thick, substantial roads, while in more rural districts and along the seashore, where the travel is principally by light carriages, a lighter roadbed construction is preferred. In rural districts, where the roads are used for immediate neighborhood purposes, an inexpensive road is desirable. The main thoroughfares have to be constructed with a view to considerable increase of travel, as farmers in the outlying districts who formerly devoted their time to grazing of stock, raising of grain, etc., find it more profitable to change the mode of farming to that of truck raising, fruit growing, etc. The road engineers of New Jersey find that they cannot follow old paths and make their roads after one style or pattern. Technical engineering in road construction must yield to the practical, common-sense plan of action. An engineer with plenty of money and material at hand can construct a good road almost anywhere and meet any condition, but with limited resources and a variety of physical conditions he has to "cut the garment to suit the cloth." We start out with this dilemma. We must have better roads, and our means for getting them being very limited, if we cannot get them as good as we would like, let us get them as good as we can. Let me give a practical illustration. Stone-road construction outside of turnpike corporations in West Jersey was begun in the spring of 1891. I was called on by the township committee of Chester Township, Burlington County, to construct some roads. Moorestown is a thriving town of about three thousand inhabitants in the center of the township. The roads to be constructed, with one exception, ran out of the town to the township limits, being from one-half to three miles in length. The roads were generally for local purposes. There were ten roads, aggregating about eleven miles. The bonding of the township was voted upon, and it was necessary, in order to carry the bonding project of $40,000, to have all these roads constructed of stone macadam. The roads to be improved were determined on at a town meeting without consulting an engineer as to the cost, etc., so that the plain question submitted to me was, Can you construct eleven miles of stone road nine feet wide for $40,000? The conditions to be met were these: There was no stone suitable for road-building nearer than from sixty to eighty miles; cost of freight, about seventy-five cents per ton; the hauls from the railroad siding averaged about one and three-quarter miles; price of teams in summer, when farmers were busy, about $3.50 per day. In preparation for road construction there were several hills to be cut from one to three feet; causeways and embankments to be made over wet and swampy ground. For this latter work the property holders and others interested along the road agreed to furnish teams, the township paying for laborers. The next difficulty was the kind of a road to build. As the width was fixed at nine feet as a part of the conditions for bonding, there seemed only one way left to apply the economics--that was, in the depth of the roads. On the dry, sandy soils I put the macadam six inches deep; this depth was applied to about six miles of road. On roads where the heaviest travel would come the roadbed was made eight inches deep. On soils having springs and on embankments over causeways the depth was ten inches with stone foundation, known as telford. Where springs existed, they were cut off by underdrains. It had been the practice of engineers in their specifications to call for the best trap rock for all the stone construction. As this rock is hard to crush and difficult to be transported some seventy or eighty miles to this part of New Jersey, I found that in order to construct all of the road from this best material it would take more money than the bonds would provide; so I had half of the depth which forms the foundation made of good dry sedimentary rock. Of course, in this there is considerable slate, but the breaking is not nearly so costly as the breaking of syenite or Jersey trap rock, and there was a saving of thirty per cent. As the surface of the road had to take all the wear, I required the best trap rock for this purpose. Since the construction of these roads in Chester Township, roads are now built under the state-aid act by county officials and paid for as follows: One-third by the state, ten per cent by the adjoining property holders, and the balance (56-2/3 per cent) by the county. The roads constructed under this act are generally leading roads and those mostly traversed by heavy teams. They are constructed similarly to those in Chester Township, excepting that they are generally twelve feet wide and from ten to twelve inches deep. Many of them have a telford foundation, which is now put down at about the same price as macadam, and meets most of the conditions better than macadam. The less expensive stone is used for foundations, and the best and more costly for surface only. In this way the cost of construction has been greatly reduced. In regard to the width, a road nine or ten feet wide has been found to be quite as serviceable as one of greater width, unless it is made fourteen feet and over. It is not claimed that a narrow road is just as good as a wide road, but it has been found better to have the cost in length than in width in rural districts. In and near towns, where there is almost constant passing, the road should not be less than from fourteen to twenty feet in width. The difficulty in getting on and off the stone road where teams are passing is not so great as is supposed. To meet this difficulty in the past, on each side of the road the specifications require the contractor to make a shoulder of clay, gravel, or other hard earth; this is never less than three feet and sometimes six to eight feet in width, according to the kinds of soil the road is composed of and the liability of frequent meeting and passing. In rural districts the top-dressing of these shoulders is taken from the side ditches; grass sods are mixed in when found, and in some cases grass seed is sown. As the stone roadbed takes the travel the grass soon begins to grow, receiving considerable fertilizing material from the washing of the road; and when the sod is once formed the waste material from the wear of the road is lodged in the grass sod and the shoulder becomes hard and firm, except when the frost is coming out. Another mode of building a rural road cheaply and still have room for passing without getting off the stone construction is to make the roadbed proper about ten feet wide, ten or twelve inches deep; then have wings of macadam on each side three feet wide and five or six inches deep. In case ten feet is used the two wings would make the stone construction six feet wide. If the road is made considerably higher in the center than the sides, as it should be, the travel, particularly the loaded teams, will keep in the center, and the wings will only be used in passing and should last as long as the thicker part of the road. The preparation of the road and making it suitable for the stone bed is one of the most important parts of road construction. This, once done properly, is permanent. Wherever it is possible the hills should be cut and low places filled, so that the maximum grade will not exceed five or six feet rise in one hundred feet; where hills cannot be reduced to this grade without incurring too much expense, the hill, if possible, should be avoided by relaying the road in another place. Wherever stone roads have been constructed it has been found that those using them for drawing heavy loads will increase the capacity of their wagons so as to carry three or four times the load formerly carried. This can easily be done where the road has a maximum grade of not greater than five or six per cent, as before stated; but when the grade is greater than this the power to be expended on such loads upon such grades will exhaust and wear out the horses; thus a supposed saving in heavy loading may prove to be a loss. In the preparation of the road it is necessary to have the ditches wide and deep enough to carry all the water to the nearest natural water way. These ditches should at all times be kept clear of weeds and trash, so that the water will not be retained in pools. Bad roads often occur because this important matter is overlooked. On hills the slope or side grade in construction from center of road to side ditches should be increased so as to exceed that of the longitudinal grade; that is, if the latter is, say, five per cent, the slope to side should be at least six per cent and over. Where the road in rural districts is on rolling ground and hills do not exceed three or four per cent, it is an unnecessary expense to cut the small ones, but all short rises should be cut and small depressions filled. A rolling road is not objectionable, and besides there is no better roadbed for laying on metal than the hard crust formed by ordinary travel. In putting on the metal, particularly on narrow roads, the roadbed should be "set high;" it will soon get "flat enough." It is better to put the shouldering up to the stone than to dig a trench to put the stone in. If the road after preparation is about level from side to side and the stone or metal construction is to be, say, ten inches deep, the sides of the roadbed to receive the metal should be cut about three inches and placed on the side to help form the shoulder; the rest of the shoulder, when suitable, being taken from the ditches and sides in forming the proper slope. The foundation to receive the metal, if the natural roadbed is not used and the bed is of soft earth, should be rolled until it is hard and compact. It should also conform to the same slope as the road when finished from center to sides. If the bed or foundation is of soft sand rolling will be of little use. In this case care must be taken to keep the bed as uniform as possible while the stone is being placed on the foundation. When the road passes through villages and towns the grading should reduce the roadbed to a grade as nearly level as possible. It must be borne in mind that the side ditches need not necessarily always conform to the center grade of the road. When the center grade is level the side ditches should be graded to carry off the water. In some cases I have found it necessary to run the grade for the side ditches in an opposite direction from the grade of the road. This, however, does not often occur. The main thing is to get the water off the road as soon as possible after it falls, and then not allow it to remain in the ditches. And just here the engineer will meet with many difficulties. The landowners in rural districts are opposed to having the water from the roads let onto their lands, and disputes often arise as to where the natural water way is located. This should be determined by the people in the neighborhood, or by the local authorities. I have found in several cases, where the water from side ditches was allowed to run on the land, that the land was generally benefited by having the soil enriched by the fertilizing matter from the road. After the roadbed has been thoroughly prepared, if made of loam or clay, it should be rolled and made as hard and compact as possible. Wherever a depression appears it should be filled up and made uniformly hard. Place upon it a light coat of loam or fine clay, which will act as a binder. If the roller used is not too heavy it may be rolled to advantage, but the rolling of this course depends upon the character of the stones. If the stones are cubical in form rolling is beneficial, but if they are of shale and many of them thin and flat, rolling has a tendency to bring the flat sides to the surface. When this is the case the next course of fine stone for the surface will not firmly compact and unite with them. When the foundation is of telford it is important that stones not too large should be used. They should not exceed ten inches in length, six inches on one side, which is laid next to the earth, and four inches on top, the depth depending on the thickness of the road. If the thickness of the finished road is eight inches, the telford pavement should not exceed five inches; if it is ten or more inches deep, then the telford could be six inches. It need in no case be greater than this, as this is sufficient to form the base or foundation of the metal construction. The surface of the telford pavement should be as uniform as possible, all projecting points broken off, and interstices filled in with small stone. Care should be taken to keep the stone set up perpendicular with the roadbed and set lengthwise across the road with joints broken. This foundation should be well hammered down with sledge hammers and made hard and compact. Upon this feature greatly depends the smoothness of the surface of the road and uniform wear. If put down compactly rolling is not necessary, and if not put down solid rolling might do it damage in causing the large stones to lean and set on their edges instead of on the flat sides. I refer to instances where the road is to be ten inches and over. Then put on a light coat or course of one and one-half inch stone, with a light coat of binding, and then put on the roller, thus setting the finer stone well with the foundation and compacting the whole mass together. After the macadam or telford foundation is well laid and compacted, the surface or wearing stone is put on. If the thickness of the road is great enough, say twelve or fourteen inches, this surface stone should be put on in courses, say of three and four inches, as may be required for the determined thickness of the road. On each course there should be applied a binding, but only sufficient to bind the metal together or fill up the small interstices. It must be remembered that broken stone is used in order to form a compact mass. The sides of the stone should come together and not be kept apart by what we call binding material; therefore only such quantity should be used as will fill up the small interstices made by reason of the irregularity of the stone. Each course should be thoroughly rolled to get the metal as compact as possible. When the stone construction is made to the required depth or thickness, the whole surface should be subjected to a coat of screenings about one inch thick. This must be kept damp by sprinkling, and thoroughly rolled until the whole mass becomes consolidated and the surface smooth and uniform. Before the rolling is finished the shoulders should be made up and covered with gravel or other hard earth and dressed off to the side ditches. When practicable these should have the same grade or slope as the stone construction. This finish should also be rolled and made uniform, so that, in order that the water may pass off freely, there will be no obstruction between the stone roadbed and side ditches. To prevent washes and insure as much hardness as possible on roads in rural districts, grass should be encouraged to grow so as to make a stiff sod. For shouldering, when the natural soil is of soft sand, a stiff clay is desirable. When the natural soil is of clay, then gravel or coarse sand can be used, covering the whole with the ditch scrapings or other fertilizing material, where grass sod is desirable. Of course this is not desirable in villages and towns. For binding, what is called garden loam is the best. When this cannot be found use any soft clay or earth free from clods or round stones. It must be spread on very lightly and uniformly. Any good dry stone not liable to disintegrate can be used as metal for foundation for either telford or macadam construction. For the surface it is necessary to have the best stone obtainable. Like the edge of a tool, it does the service and must take the wear. As in the tool it pays to have the best of steel, so on the road, which is subject to the wear and tear of steel horseshoes and heavy iron tires, it is found the cheapest to have the best of stone. It is difficult to describe the kind of stone that is best. The best is generally syenite trap rock, but this term does not give any definite idea. The kind used in New Jersey is called the general name of Jersey trap rock. It is a gray syenite, and is found in great quantities in a range running from Jersey City, on the Hudson River, to a point on the Delaware between Trenton and Lambertville. There are quantities of good stone lying north of this ledge, but none south of it. The best is at or near Jersey City. The same kind of stone is found in the same ranges of hills in Pennsylvania, but in the general run it is not so good. The liability to softness and disintegration increases after leaving the eastern part of New Jersey, and while good stone may be found, the veins of poorer stone increase as we go south and west. It is generally believed that the hardest stones are best for road purposes, but this is not the case. The hard quartz will crush under the wheels of a heavy load. It is toughness in the stone that is necessary; therefore a mixed stone, like syenite, is the best. This wears smooth, as the rough edges of the stone come in contact with the wheels. It requires good judgment based on experience to determine the right kind of stone to take the constant wear of horseshoes and wagon tires. If good roads are desired, the work is not done when the road is completed and ready for travel. There are many causes which make repairing necessary. I will refer to only a few of them. Stone roads are liable to get out of order because of too much water or want of water; also, when the natural roadbed is soft and springy and has not been sufficiently drained; when water is allowed to stand in ditches and form pools along the road, and when the "open winters" give us a superabundance of wet. Before the road becomes thoroughly consolidated by travel it is liable to become soft and stones get loose and move under the wheels of the heavily loaded wagons. In the earth foundation on which the stone bed rests the water finds the soft spots. The wheels of the loaded teams form ruts, and particularly where narrow tires are used. The work of repair should begin as soon as defects appear, for, if neglected, after every rain the depressions make little pools of water and hold it like a basin. In every case this water softens the material, and the wagon tires and horseshoes churn up the bottoms of the basins. This is the beginning of the work of destruction. If allowed to go on, the road becomes rough, and the wear and tear of the horses and wagons are increased. Stone roads out of repair, like any common road in similar condition, will be found expensive to those who use and maintain them. The way to do is to look over a road after a rain, when the depressions and basins will show themselves. Whenever one is large enough to receive a shovelful of broken stone, scrape out the soft dirt and let it form a ring around the depression. Fill with broken stone to about an inch or two above the surface of the road. The ring of dirt around will keep the stone above the surface in place, and the passing wheels will work it on the broken stone and also act as a binder. The whole will work down and become compact and even with the road surface. The ruts are treated in the same way. Use one and one-half inch stone for this; smaller stones will soon grind up and the hole appear again. The second cause of the necessity for road repairs is want of water. This occurs in summer during hot, dry spells. The surface stone "unravels;" that is, becomes loose where the horses travel. This condition is more liable to be found on dry, sandy soils, and where the roadbed is subject to the direct rays of the sun, and where the winds sweep off all the binding material from the surface. In clay soil there is little or no trouble from "unraveling." The cause being found, the remedy is applied in this way: Put on water with the sprinkler before all the binding material is blown off. If the hot, dry weather continues, sprinkling should continue. Do this in the evening or late in the afternoon. The next mode is to repair the road by placing the material back as it was originally. The loose stones are placed in the depressions and good binding material--garden loam or fine clay--is put on, then roll the whole repeatedly and dampen by sprinkling as needed until the whole surface becomes smooth and hard. Care must be taken that too much binding material is not used. If too much is used it will injure the road in winter when there is an excess of water. When a road has been neglected and allowed to become uneven and rough, or is by constant use worn down to the foundation stones, there should be a general repairing. In the first place, if it is the roughness and unevenness that is the only defect, this may be remedied by the use of a large, heavy roller with steel spikes in its rolling wheels. This will puncture the surface so that an ordinary harrow will tear up the surface stones. Then take the spikes out of the roller wheels, and, with sprinkling and rolling, the roadbed can be repaired and made like a new road. But if the cause of the roughness is from wearing away of the stone, so that the surface of the road is brought down to or near the foundation, then the road needs resurfacing. The mode of treatment is the same as in the other case. In districts where there is stone suitable for road construction the county, town, township, or other municipality, proposing to construct stone roads, should own a stone quarry and a stone crusher. For grading and preparing the road for construction, dressing up sides, clearing out side ditches, etc., a good road machine is necessary. For constructing roads and repairing them a roller is necessary, the weight depending upon the kind of road constructed. If the road is not wide a roller of from four to six tons is all the weight necessary. The rolling should be continued until compactness is obtained. For wide, heavy roads a steam roller of fifteen tons can be used to advantage. A sprinkling wagon completes the list that is necessary for the county or town or other municipality constructing its own roads. FOOTNOTES: [9] By E. G. Harrison, C. E., Secretary New Jersey Road Improvement Association. Important Historical Publications OF The Arthur H. Clark Company * * * * * Full descriptive circulars will be mailed on application "The most important project ever undertaken in the line of Philippine history in any language, above all the English."--_New York Evening Post._ * * * * * =_The_ Philippine Islands 1493-1898= * * * * * Being the history of the Philippines from their discovery to the present time * * * * * EXPLORATIONS by early Navigators, descriptions of the Islands and their Peoples, their History, and records of the Catholic Missions, as related in contemporaneous books and manuscripts, showing the political, economic, commercial, and religious conditions of those Islands from their earliest relations with European Nations to the end of the nineteenth century. * * * * * _Translated, and edited and annotated by_ E. H. BLAIR, _and_ J. A. ROBERTSON, _with introduction and additional notes by_ E. G. BOURNE. * * * * * With Analytical Index and Illustrations. Limited edition, fifty-five volumes, large 8vo, cloth, uncut, gilt top. Price, $4.00 net per volume. * * * * * "The almost total lack of acceptable material on Philippine history in English gives this undertaking an immediate value." --JAMES A. LE ROY in _American Historical Review_. "With our freshened interest in the Far East, American readers ought not to neglect the new possessions in that region which now fly the Stars and Stripes." --_Chicago Evening Post._ "Now at least there should be no difficulty for the American student to gain a clear view of the difficulties which both the Spaniards and their successors have had to contend with in these islands, when they have this work before them, and have not, as formerly, to obtain information from obscure Spanish sources, in a language hitherto comparatively little studied in the United States, ... welcome to all students of the Far East."--_English Historical Review._ =Early Western Travels 1748-1846= * * * * * A SERIES OF ANNOTATED REPRINTS of some of the best and rarest contemporary volumes of travel, descriptive of the Aborigines and Social and Economic Conditions in the Middle and Far West, during the Period of Early American Settlement. * * * * * Edited, with Historical, Geographical, Ethnological, and Bibliographical Notes, and Introductions and Index, by Reuben Gold Thwaites Editor of "The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents," "Wisconsin Historical Collections," "Chronicles of Border Warfare," "Hennepin's New Discovery," etc. * * * * * With facsimiles of the original title-pages, maps, portraits, views, etc. 31 volumes, large 8vo, cloth, uncut, gilt tops. Price $4.00 net per volume (except the Maximilien Atlas, which is $15.00 net). Limited edition; each set numbered and signed. * * * * * _An Elaborate Analytical Index to the Whole_ Almost all of the rare originals are without indexes. In the present reprint series, this immense mass of historical data will be made accessible through one exhaustive analytical index, to occupy the concluding volume. * * * * * In many cases the records reproduced are so rare that this collection will be practically the only resource of the student of the original sources of our early history. The printing and binding of the edition are handsome and at the same time so substantial that the documents reproduced may be said to have been rescued once for all time.--_Public Opinion._ +-----------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document have been preserved. | | | | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | Page 42 ben changed to been | | Page 94 surfaceing changed to surfacing | +-----------------------------------------------+ 
29420	----	file was produced from images produced by Core Historical Literature in Agriculture (CHLA), Cornell University) [Transcriber's Note: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other inconsistencies. Text that has been changed to correct an obvious error is noted at the end of this ebook. Also, on pages 47-48, the Greek letter theta is represented by THETA. In chemical and mathematical notations, a subscript is enclosed in braces and preceded by an underscore (e.g., H_{2}O.)] AGRICULTURAL ENGINEERING SERIES E. B. MCCORMICK, CONSULTING EDITOR FORMERLY DEAN OF ENGINEERING DIVISION KANSAS STATE AGRICULTURAL COLLEGE AMERICAN RURAL HIGHWAYS _McGraw-Hill Book Co. Inc._ PUBLISHERS OF BOOKS FOR Coal Age -- Electric Railway Journal Electrical World -- Engineering News-Record American Machinist -- Ingenieria Internacional Engineering & Mining Journal -- Power Chemical & Metallurgical Engineering Electrical Merchandising [Illustration: _Frontispiece_] AMERICAN RURAL HIGHWAYS BY T. R. AGG, C.E. PROFESSOR OF HIGHWAY ENGINEERING IOWA STATE COLLEGE FIRST EDITION MCGRAW-HILL BOOK COMPANY, INC. NEW YORK: 239 WEST 39TH STREET LONDON: 6 & 8 BOUVERIE ST., E. C. 4 1920 COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY THE McGRAW-HILL BOOK COMPANY, INC. PREFACE AMERICAN RURAL HIGHWAYS was written for use as a text or reference in courses dealing with rural highways and intended for agricultural engineers, students in agriculture and for short courses and extension courses. The reader is assumed to have familiarity with drawing and surveying, but the text is adapted primarily for students who do not receive training along the lines of the usual course in Highway or Civil Engineering. The text is intended to familiarize the student with the relation of highway improvement to national progress, to indicate the various problems of highway administration and to set forth the usual methods of design and construction for rural highways in sufficient detail to establish a clear understanding of the distinguishing characteristics and relative serviceability of each of the common types of roadway surface. Experience with classes made up of students in agriculture or agricultural engineering and with trade school students in road making served as a guide in the selection and arrangement of the material. Detailed discussion of tests of materials and of the theory of design has to a considerable extent been eliminated as being outside of the scope of the course for which the text is intended. In the preparation of American Rural Highways reference was had to many books on highway subjects and to current periodical literature. Wherever direct extracts were made from such source, appropriate acknowledgment appears in the text. T. R. AGG AMES, IOWA, AUGUST 18, 1920. CONTENTS PREFACE vii CHAPTER I THE PURPOSE AND UTILITY OF HIGHWAYS Transportation Problem--National in Scope--Development in Traffic--Location or Farm to Market Traffic--Farm to Farm Traffic--Inter-City Traffic--Inter-County and Inter-State Traffic--Rural Education--Rural Social Life--Good Roads and Commerce 1-12 CHAPTER II HIGHWAY ADMINISTRATION Township Administration--County Administration--State Administration--Federal Administration--Special Assessments--Zone Method of Assessing--General Taxation--Vehicle Taxes--Sinking Fund Bonds--Annuity Bonds--Serial Bonds--Comparison of Methods of Issuing Bonds--Desirability of Road Bonds 13-28 CHAPTER III DRAINAGE OF ROADS The Necessity for Drainage--Importance of Design--Surface Drainage--Run-off--Ordinary Design of Ditches--Underground Water--Tile Drains--Lying Tile--Culverts--Length of Culvert-- Farm Entrance Culverts--Metal Pipe--Clay and Cement Concrete Pipe--Concrete Pipe--Endwalls for Culverts--Reinforced Concrete Box Culverts--Drop Inlet Culverts 29-41 CHAPTER IV ROAD DESIGN Necessity for Planning--Road Plans--Problems of Design-- Preliminary Investigations--Road Surveys--Alignment-- Intersections--Superelevation--Tractive Resistance--Rolling Resistance--Internal Resistance--Air Resistance--Effect of Trades--Energy Loss on Account of Grades--Undulating Roads-- Guard Railing--Width of Roadway--Cross Section--Control of Erosion--Private Entrances--Æsthetics 42-62 CHAPTER V EARTH ROADS Variations in Soils--Variation in Rainfall--Cross Sections Elevating Grader--Maney Grader--Slip Scraper--Fresno Scraper--Elevating Grader Work--Use of Blade Grader-- Costs--Maintenance--Value of Earth Roads 63-73 CHAPTER VI SAND-CLAY AND GRAVEL ROADS The Binder--Top-soil or Natural Mixtures--Sand-clay on Sandy Roads--Sand-clay on Clay or Loam--Characteristics--Natural Gravel--The Ideal Road Gravel--Permissible Size of Pebbles-- Wearing Properties--Utilizing Natural Gravels--Thickness of Layer--Preparation of the Road--Trench Method--Surface Method--Maintenance 74-88 CHAPTER VII BROKEN STONE ROAD SURFACES Design--Properties of the Stone--Kinds of Rocks used for Macadam--Sizes of Stone--Earth Work--Foundation for the Macadam--Telford Foundation--Placing the Broken Stone-- Rolling--Spreading Screenings--Bituminous Surfaces--Maintenance Characteristics 89-97 CHAPTER VIII CEMENT CONCRETE ROADS Destructive Agencies--Design--Concrete Materials--Fine Aggregate--Proportions--Measuring Materials--Preparation of the Earth Foundation--Placing Concrete for Two-course Road--Curing the Concrete--Expansion Joints--Reinforcing--Bituminous Coatings on Concrete Surfaces--Characteristics--Maintenance 98-105 CHAPTER IX VITRIFIED BRICK ROADS Vitrified Brick--Paving Brick--Repressed Brick--Vitrified Fiber Brick--Wire-cut-lug Brick--Tests for Quality--Other Tests-- Foundation--Sand Bedding Course--Sand Mortar Bedding Course-- Green Concrete Bedding Course--Bituminous Fillers--Mastic Fillers--Marginal Curb 106-115 CHAPTER X BITUMINOUS ROAD MATERIALS AND THEIR USE Classes of Bituminous Materials--Coal Tar--Water Gas Tar--Natural Asphalt--Petroleum Asphalt--Mixtures--Classification According to Consistency--Road Oils--Liquid Asphalts--Asphalt Cements-- Fillers--Bitumen--Specifications--Surface Treatments--Applying the Bituminous Binder--Finishing the Surface--Patching-- Penetration Macadam--Foundation--Upper or Wearing Course-- Patching Characteristics--Hot Mixed Macadam--Foundation--Sizes of Stone--Mixing the Wearing Stone--Placing and Wearing Surface--Seal Coat--Characteristics--Asphaltic Concrete-- Bitulithic or Warrenite--Topeka Asphaltic Concrete--Foundation --Placing the Surface--Characteristics 116-129 CHAPTER XI MAINTENANCE OF HIGHWAYS Petrol Maintenance--Gang Maintenance--Maintenance of Earth, Sand-clay, Gravel and Macadam Roads 130-134 Index 135 AMERICAN RURAL HIGHWAYS CHAPTER I THE PURPOSE AND UTILITY OF HIGHWAYS THE DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHWAY SYSTEMS =Transportation Problem.=--Public highways, like many other familiar things, are utilized constantly with little thought of how indispensable they are to the conduct of the business of a nation or of the intimate relation they bear to the everyday life of any community. The degree to which a nation or a community perfects its transportation facilities is an index of its industrial progress and public highways constitute an important element in the national transportation system. It is to be expected that the average citizen will think of the public highway only when it affects his own activities and that he will concern himself but little with the broad problem of highway improvement unless it be brought forcibly to his attention through taxation or by publicity connected with the advancement of specific projects. =National in Scope.=--The improvement and extension of the highway system is of national importance just as is development and extension of railways, and concerted action throughout a nation is a prerequisite to an adequate policy in regard to either. It is inconceivable that any community in a nation can prosper greatly without some benefit accruing to many other parts of the country. Increased consumption, which always accompanies material prosperity, means increased production somewhere, and people purchase from many varied sources to supply the things that they want. Good transportation facilities contribute greatly to community prosperity and indirectly to national prosperity, and the benefits of highly improved public highways are therefore national in scope. This fact has been recognized in Europe, notably in England, France and Belgium, where the public highways are administered largely as national utilities. Until recent years, highway improvement in the United States has been subordinated to other more pressing public improvements, but during the World War the inadequacy of the transportation system of the United States became apparent. While such an unprecedented load upon transportation facilities may not recur for many years, it has become apparent that more rapid progress in highway improvement is necessary and in the United States the subject is now likely to receive attention commensurate with its importance. =Development of Traffic.=--The character and extent of the highway improvement needed in any locality is dependent entirely on the demands of traffic. In sparsely settled areas, particularly those that are semi-arid or arid, the amount of traffic on local roads is likely to be small and the unimproved trails or natural roads adequate. But as an area develops either on account of agricultural progress or the establishment of industrial enterprises, the use of the public highways both for business and for pleasure increases and the old trails are gradually improved to meet, at least to some degree, the new demands of traffic. In sparsely settled areas, it is possible for the public to accommodate its use of the highways to the physical condition thereof, and business is more or less regulated according to the condition of the roads. This is not always pleasant or economical but is the only possible arrangement. In populous districts, with diversified activities, it becomes imperative to have year-round usable roads in order to transact with reasonable dispatch the regular business of the industries. Anything less will handicap normal community progress. The advent of the motor driven vehicle in the United States has resulted in a greatly increased use of the public highways of agricultural areas, even of those that are sparsely populated, because of the convenience of the motor vehicle both for passenger and for freight service. Probably in excess of 90 per cent of the tonnage passing over the rural highways in the United States is carried by motor vehicles. This class of traffic has really just developed and no one can predict what it will be in ten years, yet it has already introduced into the highway problem an element that has revolutionized methods of construction and maintenance. A different set of traffic conditions exists in those parts of the United States where large areas are devoted primarily to industrial pursuits, the agricultural development being of secondary importance. Public highways connecting the industrial centers are indispensable adjuncts to the business facilities in such communities and are ordinarily subjected to a very large volume and tonnage of traffic consisting principally of motor vehicles. The roads first selected for improvement will not be those serving the agricultural interests of the district, but rather those serving the industrial centers. Inter-city roads of great durability and relatively high cost are necessary for such traffic conditions. Not infrequently the transportation needs will require a system of both inter-city and rural highways in the same community. There are few areas in the United States where there is no agricultural development. It is apparent therefore that the nature of the highway systems and the administrative organization under which they are built and maintained will differ in various states or areas according to the nature of development of that area agriculturally and industrially. In planning improvements of highway systems, it is recognized that one or more of several groups of traffic may be encountered and that the extent and nature of the improvement must be such as will meet the requirements of all classes of traffic, the most important being first provided for, and that of lesser importance as rapidly as finances permit. KINDS OF TRAFFIC ON PUBLIC HIGHWAYS =Local or Farm to Market Traffic.=--In strictly agricultural communities the principal use of the highways will pertain to agricultural activities and most of it will be between the farm and the most convenient market center. In the ordinary state, the number of rural families will not average more than six to eight per square mile, but in some districts it may reach twenty families per square mile. The travel from the district around a market center will originate in this rather sparsely populated area and converge onto a few main roads leading to market. The outlying or feeder roads will be used by only a few families, but the density of traffic will increase nearer the market centers and consequently the roads nearer town will be much more heavily traveled than the outlying ones. It is apparent therefore that considerable difference may exist in the kind of construction adequate for the various sections of road where farm traffic is the principal consideration. This traffic is made up of horse drawn wagons, transporting farm products and of horse drawn and motor passenger vehicles, the motor traffic comprising 80 per cent or more of the volume of traffic and a greater per cent of the tonnage. Motor trucks are now employed to some extent for marketing farm products and, where surfaced highways have been provided, this class of traffic is superseding horse drawn traffic. =Farm to Farm Traffic.=--In the ordinary prosecution of farming operations, a considerable amount of neighborhood travel is inevitable. Farmers help each other with certain kinds of work, exchange commodities such as seed, machinery and farm animals and visit back and forth both for business and pleasure. To accommodate this traffic, it is desirable to provide good neighborhood roads. Traffic of this sort follows no particular route and can to some extent accommodate itself to the condition of the highways without entailing financial loss, although some discomfort and some inconvenience may result from inadequate highway facilities. This traffic will be partly motor and partly horse drawn, but the proportion of motor driven is large. =Inter-city Traffic.=--In strictly agricultural districts there is a large amount of travel between towns, both for business and for pleasure. The pleasure travel is mostly in motor vehicles and a considerable part of the business traffic is the same, although horse drawn vehicles are employed to some extent. In industrial districts there is a large volume of this class of traffic consisting of motor passenger vehicles used for business and for pleasure and of motor freight vehicles used for general business purposes. In addition, there is certain to be a large amount of motor truck freight traffic incident to the particular industrial pursuits of the cities. Where adequate public highways connect industrial centers, there is invariably a very large amount of inter-city traffic, due in part to the needs of industry and in part to concentration of population in industrial centers. =Inter-County and Inter-State Traffic.=--Automobile touring is a popular means of relaxation, especially on the part of those who live in the cities, although it is by no means confined to them. Traffic of this kind follows the routes where roads are best and passes entirely across a county, attracted by some public gathering. Often it is inter-state in character, made up of tourists who are traveling to distant pleasure resorts. Such traffic at present constitutes a relatively small part of the travel on public highways, except on certain favorable routes, but as the wealth of the country increases and good touring roads are numerous, long distance travel will increase and will eventually necessitate the construction of a number of well maintained national highways, located with reference to the convenience of the automobile tourist. PUBLIC HIGHWAYS AND COMMUNITY LIFE It is well to recognize the intimate relation public highways bear to the economic progress of a nation. Normal development of all of the diverse activities of a people depends very largely upon the highway policy that is adopted and whether the actual construction of serviceable roads keeps pace with transportation needs. =Rural Education.=--It has become increasingly apparent during the World War that the demand upon North America for food stuffs is to become more and more insistent as the years pass. Already the consumption in the United States has approached quite closely to the average production and yet the population is constantly increasing. The time is not far distant when greater production will be required of the agricultural area in North America in order to meet the home demand for foodstuffs, and many thousands of tons will be needed for export. This need can only be met by agricultural methods that will increase greatly the present yield of the soil. The adoption of better agricultural methods must of necessity be preceded by the technical training of the school children who will be the farmers of the next generation, which can best be accomplished in graded schools with well equipped laboratories and with suitably trained teachers. The problem of providing such schools in rural communities has, in some instances, been solved by consolidating a number of rural school districts and constructing a well equipped building to accommodate the students from an area several miles square. An educational system of this sort can reach its highest usefulness only when adequate public highways facilitate attendance of pupils. The whole trend of rural educational progress is toward a system which is predicated upon a comprehensive highway policy in the district. =Rural Social Life.=--Closely allied to the rural educational problem is the rural social problem. Motor cars and good roads do a great deal to eliminate the isolation and lack of social opportunity that has characterized rural life in the United States. A high order of citizenship in rural communities is essential to the solution of many problems of rural economics, and such citizens will not live away from the social opportunities of modern life. The rural school house and the rural church may become social centers and local plays, moving picture shows and lectures and entertainments of other kinds made available to those who live in the country. Their enjoyment of these social opportunities will be much more general if the public highways are at all times in a condition to be traveled in comfort. Good homes and good schools on good roads are prerequisites to the solution of many rural problems. If there is opportunity for those who live in the cities to get some adequate idea of rural life and the conditions under which farming operations are carried on it will correct many misunderstandings of the broad problems of food production and distribution. Reference has frequently been made to the seeming desire on the part of city people to get into the country, and, by facilitating the realization of this desire, a great social service is rendered. =Good Roads and Commerce.=--That good highways are almost as necessary as are railroads to the commercial development of a nation is recognized but, unlike the railroads, the highways are not operated for direct profit and the responsibility of securing consideration of the demand for improvements is not centralized. Therefore, sentiment for road improvement has been of slow growth, and important projects are often delayed until long after the need for them was manifest. Movements to secure financial support for highway improvement must go through the slow process of legislative enactment, encountering all of the uncertainties of political action, and the resulting financial plan is likely to be inadequate and often inequitable. The whole commercial structure of a nation rests upon transportation, and the highways are a part of the transportation system. The highway problem can never receive adequate consideration until public highways are recognized as an indispensable element in the business equipment of a nation. During the World War all transportation facilities were taxed to the limit, and motor trucks were utilized for long distance freight haulage to an extent not previously considered practicable. As a result, the interest in the motor truck as an addition to the transportation equipment of the nation, has been greatly stimulated. Many haulage companies have entered the freight transportation field, delivering commodities by truck to distances of a hundred miles or more. The part the motor truck will play in the future can only be estimated, but it seems clear that the most promising field is for shipments destined to or originating in a city of some size and a warehouse or store not on a railroad spur, and especially when the shipments are less than car load lots. The delays and expense incident to handling small shipments of freight through the terminals of a large city and carting from the unloading station to the warehouse or other destination constitute a considerable item in the cost of transportation. Mr. Charles Whiting Baker, Consulting Editor of _Engineering News-Record_, states:[1] [1] Engineering News Record, July 10, 1919. "It costs today as much to haul a ton of farm produce ten miles to a railway station as it does to haul it a thousand miles over a heavy-traffic trunk-line railway. It often costs more today to transport a ton of merchandise from its arrival in a long train in the freight yard on the outskirts of a great city to its deposit in the warehouse of a merchant four or five miles away than it has cost to haul it over a thousand miles of railway line." Nevertheless it seems probable that new methods of operating the motor truck transport, and possibly new types of trucks or trucks and trailers will be developed so that freight traffic over many roads will be of considerable tonnage and an established part of the transportation system of the nation. In the article above referred to are given the following data relative to the cost of hauling on improved roads by motor truck and these cost estimates are based on the best information available at this time. They should be considered as approximate only, but serve to indicate the limitations of the truck as a competitor of the steam railway. TABLE 1 TRUCK OPERATION COSTS, FROM REPORTS BY SIX MOTOR TRUCK OPERATORS, DIRECT CHARGES PER DAY +---------+-------+-------+-------+-------+-------+-------+----------- | A | B | C | D | E | F | Average | | | | | | | Total +---------+-------+-------+-------+-------+-------+-------+----------- Driver | $5.00 | $5.20 | $5.00 | $5.00 | $5.17 | $5.50 | $5.13 Tires | 3.00 | 3.75 | 2.00 | 2.00 | 2.00 | 3.00 | 2.68 Oil, etc. | .30 | ... | .30 | .50 | .25 | .25 | .35 Gasoline | 3.00 | 4.00 | 3.50 | 4.65 | 2.08 | 3.75 | 3.50 | | | | | | | ------ | | | | | | | $11.66 +---------+-------+-------+-------+-------+-------+-------+----------- INDIRECT CHARGES PER DAY -------------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------------ | | | | | | | Average | A | B | C | D E | F | Total -------------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------------ Depreciation | $3.50| $4.19| $3.60| $3.40| $3.67| $4.00| $3.77 Interest | 1.20| 1.26| 1.08| 1.22| 1.10| 1.00| 1.15 Insurance | 1.50| 2.54| 1.26| 2.10| .86| .50| 1.47 Garage | 1.00| 1.20| 1.00| 1.00| .89| 1.00| 1.01 Maintenance | .50| ...| .50| ...| 1.00| ...| .75 Overhaul | 1.33| 2.75| 1.80| 1.60| 2.00| 3.00| 2.07 License | .17| .27| .20| .20| .20| .20| .20 Body upkeep | .25| ...| .30| .10| .40| ...| .27 | | | | | | | ---- | | | | | | | $10.69 Supervision | .50| 2.93| 2.05| 1.90| ... | ... | 1.90 1.90 Lost time | 2.20| ... | 1.67| 3.40| 2.50| 1.97| 2.57 2.57 | -----| -----| -----| -----| -----| -----| ----------- | 23.45| 28.09| 24.26| 28.07| 22.12| 24.17| 26.82 -------------+------+------+------+------+------+------+------------ TABLE 2 OVERHEAD CHARGES PER YEAR FOR A 5-TON CAPACITY GASOLINE MOTOR TRUCK RUNNING AN AVERAGE OF 50 MILES PER DAY FOR 240 DAYS PER YEAR Driver's wages[1] $1500 Depreciation (20% on $6000 investment) 1200 Interest (6% on $6000 investment) 360 Insurance 450 Garage (rental, upkeep, etc.) 300 Maintenance, minor repairs and supplies, tire chains, tools, lamps, springs, equipment, etc. (estimated) 300 Complete overhaul once a year 600 License fee 60 Body upkeep, repairs, painting, etc. 90 Supervision 696 ----- Total per annum $5556 Overhead charges per day for 240 days in the year, actual operation $23.15 Overhead charges per mile for 50 miles per day .463 [1] In the above table the driver's wages have been placed under overhead charges because the driver is paid by the month and his wages continue even though the truck is idle because of repairs, bad weather or lack of business, unless, of course, the idleness should be of long duration, when the driver might be laid off. DIRECT CHARGES PER DAY AND PER MILE FOR 5-TON TRUCK OPERATED AS ABOVE ------------------------------------------------+---------+--------- | Cost | Cost | per day | per mile ------------------------------------------------+---------+--------- Tires (based on present tire guarantee) | $3.00 | $0.06 Lubricants | .50 | .01 Gasoline (3-1/2 miles per gal., 14 gal. at 25c) | 3.50 | .07 | ----- | ----- | 7.00 | 0.14 ------------------------------------------------+---------+--------- Total of overhead and direct charges for 240 days per year operation, per day $30.15 Per mile .603 Cost per ton-mile for full loads one way and empty returning .2412 Cost per ton-mile for full loads one way and half load returning .16 The significance of these figures becomes apparent when they are compared with the cost of hauling freight over trunk-line railways with heavy traffic where the cost per ton-mile, including terminal charges, ranges from 1.7 _mills_ per ton-mile to 4.4 _mills_ per ton-mile. In view of these facts it seems reasonable to suppose that motor vehicles for use on the public highways are more likely to be employed to supplement the rail transport than to compete with it. To the actual cost of operation of motor trucks given in Table 2, there should be added the proportionate cost of maintaining the highway for the use of the truck, which is partly covered by the item "License Fee" in the table. The license fee would necessarily be considerably larger if it were to compensate adequately for the wear on the highways over which the trucks operate. This will still further increase the cost of hauling by motor truck. Motor trucks are employed for many kinds of hauling where their speed and consequently their daily capacity is an advantage over team hauling that is decidedly worth while. It probably could be shown that for many kinds of hauling, teams are more economical than motor trucks, but when promptness and speed and the consequent effect on dependent activities are considered, the motor truck often has a distinct advantage, and the use of the truck to replace horse drawn vans is progressing rapidly. This is true not only in the cities, but also in the smaller towns and in the country. Motor trucks have been adopted in a great many communities for delivery of farm products to market, and this use of the truck is certain to increase rapidly. But trucks in this service will use the secondary roads as well as the main or primary roads. These observations emphasize the extent to which the highway policy of the nation must be predicated on the use of the highways by motor vehicles. CHAPTER II HIGHWAY ADMINISTRATION The systems of highway administration extant in the various political units in the United States present a patchwork of overlapping authority and undetermined responsibility. Highway laws are being constantly revised by state legislatures and with each revision there is some change in administrative methods and often the changes are revolutionary in character. In most states, the trend is away from county and township administration and toward state administration, with provision for considerable participation by the federal government. It will be pertinent to consider briefly the present functions of each of the administrative authorities having duties in connection with highway work in the United States, although these duties vary greatly in the several states and change periodically with the action of legislatures. =Township Administration.=--Township or "Town" authority is a survival of the old New England town government and the town board consists of three or more trustees who hold office for fixed terms. The usual term is three years, but is less in some states. The incumbent is generally a man who has other responsibilities of a public or private nature and who gives but little of his time to highway matters. In some states the pay is a fixed annual salary and in others a per diem with some limitation on the amount that may be drawn in any one year, which limitation may be statutory or may be by common consent. The township highway commissioners or trustees have jurisdiction over certain of the roads in the township, usually best described as all roads not by law placed under the jurisdiction of some other authority. In certain instances, the township authorities have charge of all of the roads in the township, which would mean that no "county" or "state" roads happened to be laid out in that township. It is a matter of general observation that the trend of legislation is toward removing from the jurisdiction of the township officials all roads except those upon which the traffic is principally local in character. The actual mileage of roads in the United States that is at present administered by township officials is large, probably constituting not less than seventy per cent of the total mileage. In most states the township officials are responsible for the maintenance of the roads under their jurisdiction and also supervise such new construction as is undertaken. This includes the construction of culverts and bridges as a rule, but in some states the county board of supervisors is responsible for all of the bridge and culvert work on the township roads. In other states, the township board is responsible only for bridges or culverts that cost less than a certain amount specified by law (usually about $1000) and the county board provides for the construction and upkeep of the more expensive bridges and culverts. Funds for the work carried out by the township road officials are obtained by general taxation, the amount that may be levied being limited by statute and the actual levy being any amount up to the maximum that the township board deems necessary for its purposes. It is the general observation that the tax levy is usually the maximum permitted by law. In many states, township officials are permitted to issue bonds for road construction, almost invariably, however, with the restriction that each issue must be approved by the voters of the township. There is always a provision that the total amount of bonds outstanding must not exceed the constitutional limit in force in the state. In several states, the townships have large amounts of road bonds outstanding. =County Administration.=--In some states the county is the smallest administrative unit in the road system. A county board, called the board of county supervisors or board of county commissioners consisting of from three to fifteen members, is the administrative authority. Its members are elected for fixed terms which vary in length from one to five years. The county board usually has many public responsibilities other than highway administration, and is generally made up of men with considerably more business ability than the average township board. The county board has jurisdiction over all of the highways in the county in some states, and in others it has charge of only the more important highways. In most states, the laws set forth specifically what highways shall be under the jurisdiction of the county authorities. In addition to having direct supervision of the improvement and maintenance of the roads assigned to county administration, the county boards in some states arrange for the construction of all culverts and bridges on the roads that are under township supervision, or at least the more expensive bridges and culverts on such roads. Sometimes this is accomplished by granting county aid for township bridges, under which system the county pays a part of the cost of the construction of bridges on the township roads. The amount of aid varies, but is generally about one-half of the cost, and the township and county officials jointly assume the responsibility of arranging for the construction by contract or otherwise. The county board obtains funds for road work through a direct tax on all property in the county, the maximum rate being limited by statute. County boards are also authorized to issue bonds for road construction under statutory restrictions and limitations similar to those effective in the township as to total amount issued, and many millions of dollars' worth of highway bonds have been issued by county authorities in the United States. =State Administration.=--In a state, the administrative authority in highway matters is vested in a board of commissioners usually consisting of three or more members. In a few states, the administrative authority is delegated to a single commissioner. Where the authority is vested in a board, that board is usually appointed by the governor. In several states one or more members of the commission hold that position _ex officio_; for example, in several states the governor is by law a member of the commission, in others the secretary of state or the dean of engineering at the State University or the state geologist is a member of the commission. Where the administrative authority is a single commissioner he may be elected along with other state officers, but this is the case in only a few states. The authority of the state highway department varies in the several states, but in general the departments serve in the dual capacity of general advisers to the county and township authorities on road matters and as the executive authority responsible for the construction of those highways that are built entirely or in part from state or federal funds. State highway departments consist of the commission or commissioner, and the technical and clerical staff required to perform the duties imposed on the state organization. To some extent the state highway departments are able to encourage economical and correct construction of highways by the township and county authorities by furnishing them standard plans and specifications and by formulating regulations to govern the character of construction, but such efforts are likely to be more or less ineffective unless the state authority has supervision of the allotment of state or federal funds to the various counties and townships. Nevertheless, most state highway departments do a great deal of advisory work in connection with the highway construction carried out by county and township authorities. State highway departments are supported by funds obtained in various ways, laws differing greatly in this respect. The necessary support is in some states appropriated from funds obtained by general taxation, and is in others obtained from automobile license fees. In still others, the funds are secured by a combination of the two methods mentioned above. In addition to these support funds, a certain part of the money obtained as federal aid may be employed for the engineering and inspection costs on federal aid roads. The above mentioned funds are required to maintain the state highway department. In addition, the departments have supervision of the expenditures of construction funds which can be used for road construction and maintenance, and may not be expended for salaries or other overhead expense. In a number of states, automobile license fees are set aside for financing road construction and maintenance, and the work paid for from the fees is carried out under the supervision of the state highway department. In a number of instances, state bonds have been issued for road construction, and the expenditure of the proceeds of the sale of road bonds has usually been supervised by the state highway department. All federal aid funds allotted to a state must be expended under the direction of the state highway department. =Federal Administration.=--Federal authority in highway work is vested in the Bureau of Public Roads of the United States Department of Agriculture. The official head is the Secretary of Agriculture, but the administrative head is the Director of the Bureau. In this Bureau are the various instrumentalities needed for carrying on investigations and furnishing information to the various states on highway subjects. The Bureau also supervises the construction of federal aid roads in a general way through district engineers, each of whom looks after the work in several states. Funds for the support of the Bureau of Public Roads are obtained from congressional appropriations to the Department of Agriculture and from a percentage of the funds appropriated for federal aid. Federal aid is money appropriated by Congress to be distributed to the various states to stimulate road construction. It is granted to the states on the condition that the states will expend at least an equal amount on the projects involved. The states in turn usually give a suitable part of the state allotment to each county. There are various limitations as to the amount of federal aid per mile of road and the type of construction that may be employed, but these are matters of regulation that change from time to time. It will be seen that each of the administrative authorities, except the Bureau of Public Roads, is to some extent subservient to a higher authority, and the Bureau of Public Roads is supervised by the United States Congress. Considerable diplomacy is required on the part of any administrative authority if his contact with other officials is to be without friction. This is especially true in connection with the formulation of a policy regarding the types of construction to be adopted for an improvement. The responsibility for the selection is variously placed on the township, county or state authority, the laws not being uniform in this respect. If state or federal funds are allotted to an improvement, the state authority either makes the selection of the type of construction or the selection is made by some subordinate authority subject to the approval of the state highway department. Where the improvement is paid for exclusively with township or county funds, the selection is often made by the township or county authority without review by higher authority. Many abuses have crept into highway administration through the unscrupulous methods of promoters of the sale of road materials or road machinery. A great deal of the selling activity of the agents for these commodities is entirely irreproachable, but it is well known that such is not always the case. As a result, the tendency of legislation is to require the state highway department to approve contracts for materials or construction entered into by the township or county authorities. The state highway departments can secure the requisite technical experts to determine the merits of materials and equipment and, in spite of some glaring examples of inefficiency or worse, have made a good record for impartiality and integrity as custodians of the funds for which they are responsible. HIGHWAY FINANCE The paramount problem in highway administration is the development of an adequate financial plan for carrying on road improvement. The necessary expenditures are enormous, although the money so expended is probably much less than the actual benefit resulting from the improvements. =Special Assessments.=--There is presumed to be a direct and recognized benefit conferred on farm lands by the construction of improved highways adjacent thereto. Therefore, it is equitable to charge a part of the cost against the lands so benefited. The principle of paying for public improvements by a special assessment upon private property has been long established and a large proportion of the public improvements in the cities and towns have been made financially possible through the medium of special assessments on abutting and adjacent property. The same principle has been applied to the financing of drainage projects for reclaiming farm lands. Recently the special assessment method has come into limited use in financing rural highway improvements. The policy in such cases is to assess the abutting and adjacent property in a zone along the improved road for a percentage of the cost of the improvement. The amount so assessed does not ordinarily exceed one-fourth of the total cost of the improvement and may be considerably less. The assessment is spread over an area extending back from one to six miles from the improved road. The assessment area is generally divided into about four zones parallel to the road. The zone next the road is assessed at a rate arbitrarily determined as a fair measure of the benefit, and each succeeding zone is assessed at a somewhat lower rate. Generally about three-fourths of the total assessment is placed on the half of the assessment area lying next to the road. Many systems of making assessments have been proposed which are mechanical in application after the area and rate of distribution of benefit have been established, but in practice it is always found necessary to make adjustments on individual parcels of land because of variation in benefits received and it is impossible to eliminate the exercise of human judgment in equalizing the assessments. =Zone Method of Assessing.=--The area to be assessed on each side of the improved road is divided into zones usually four in number, but a larger or smaller number of zones may be adopted. The rate for each zone is then arbitrarily determined. For a typical case, the first of four zones would receive an assessment of 50 per cent of the amount to be borne by the area; the second zone 25 per cent, the third 15 per cent and the fourth 10 per cent. Other percentages sometimes adopted are 45, 25, 20 and 10 and 60, 20, 15 and 5. The set of percentages first mentioned seems to insure the most equitable distribution for an area all of which is substantially equally productive. When a road, for the improvement of which an assessment is being made, lies on two or more sides of a parcel of land all of which is within the assessment area, the rate is arbitrarily reduced to relieve that parcel of land somewhat, or the assessment is first spread as above outlined and afterward equalized as judgment dictates. In applying the zone method some difficulty is encountered in determining an equitable distribution on those parcels of land lying partly in one zone and partly in another, but the rate may be arrived at with reasonable accuracy by pro-rating in accordance with the exact conditions. In. Fig. 1, let it be assumed that the assessment area is to be two miles wide, one mile on each side of the road and the various ownerships to be indicated by the parcels of land numbered 1 to 8, as shown. Each zone for the assessment of the 3-1/4 mile section is 1/4 mile wide and the rates for the several zones are 50, 25, 15 and 10 per cent respectively. Let it be assumed that the portion of the cost of the 3-1/4 miles of road to be assessed on the area shown is $20,000. The assessment would then be as follows: ------+-------+----------------------+------------+------------- | | Rate × frontage on | Amount of | Parcel| Rate | improved road = | Assessment | Assessment | | assessment units | per unit[1]| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 ------+-------+----------------------+------------+------------- 1 | a 50 | 50 × 2640 = 132,000 | $0.016655 | $1558.46 | b 75 | 75 × 1320 = 99,000 | | 1153.90 2 | 40 | 40 × 2640 = 105,600 | | 1230.77 3 | 10 | 10 × 2640 = 26,400 | | 307.69 4 | 25 | 25 × 1320 = 33,000 | | 384.66 5 | [2]85 | 85 × 5280 = 448,800 | | 5230.88 6 | 15 | 15 × 5280 = 79,200 | | 923.08 7 | [2]65 | 65 × 7920 = 514,800 | | 6000.00 8 | 35 | 35 × 7920 = 277,200 | | 3230.77 | | ------------------- | | ----------- | | 1,716,000 | | $20000.00 ------+-------+----------------------+------------+------------- [1] The assessment per unit is obtained by dividing the total assessment by the total of column three. [2] On these two parcels, it is decided that more than half of the zone rate should apply to the half of the zone toward the improved road, but some modification of the rates adopted might be justified. [Illustration: Fig. 1] The assessment of the cost of the east and west one-mile section of road is made up in like manner, and let it be assumed that the portion of the cost of this road that is to be assessed on the area shown is $5500. The assessment area will be one mile wide and each zone one-fourth mile in width and the rates for each zone the same as before. ------+-------+----------------------+------------+------------- | | Rate × frontage on | Amount of | Parcel| Rate | improved road = | Assessment | Assessment | | assessment units | per unit | ------|-------+----------------------+------------+------------- 1 | a 75 | 75 x 1320 = 99,000 | $0.010417 | $1031.25 | b 15 | 15 x 2640 = 39,600 | | 412.49 2 | 75 | 75 x 2640 = 198,000 | | 2062.53 3 | 50 | 50 x 1320 = 66,000 | | 687.51 4 | a 25 | 25 x 1320 = 33,000 | | 756.25 | b 15 | 15 x 2640 = 39,600 | | 5 | 10 | 10 x 3300 = 33,000 | | 343.73 6 | 10 | 10 x 1980 = 19,800 | | 206.24 ------|-------| | |------------- | | 528,000 | | 5500.00 ------+-------+----------------------+------------+------------- It will be noted that the combined assessment for the two sections of road is especially heavy on parcels 1, 2 and 3. In order to prevent unjust charges against such properties, laws usually limit the total assessment against any parcel of land to a fixed percentage of a fair market value or of the assessed value. The assessment on these parcels would be reduced as seemed expedient and the deficit would be distributed over the remainder of the area in the same manner as the original assessment was spread. In practice such re-distribution is ordinarily made by the arbitrary adjustment in accordance with what the authorized officials consider to be fair and equitable. The method outlined is merely a mechanical means of securing distribution and must not be considered as an infallible method of making the assessment. It is always necessary to review the results in the light of the actual benefits to be presumed for each parcel of land. Nevertheless, the method outlined will prove equitable in a majority of cases. =General Taxation.=--There is a general community benefit derived from the construction of good roads in that the actual cost of marketing farm products is lessened with a resulting lowering of the price to the consumer. The benefit also accrues from the greater facility with which all community business may be conducted. The introduction of better opportunities for social, religious and educational activities in the rural districts which results from improved highways is also a community benefit of no mean importance. A part of the cost of road improvement may therefore be equitably paid from funds obtained by general taxation. A considerable portion of the current expense of maintaining the township and county highway work and at least a part of the cost of maintaining state highway activities is met from funds obtained by general taxation. Likewise, the funds required for the amortization of bond issues are often obtained from general taxation although vehicle license fees are sometimes used for that purpose. General taxes are levied on all taxable property in a political unit under statutory provisions regulating the amount of the levy and the purpose for which the revenue is to be used. In the aggregate, the road taxes are large but in the township or county the rate is generally small compared to some other taxes, such as the school tax. =Vehicle Taxes.=--The great direct benefit derived by those who actually operate vehicles over the roads justifies the policy of requiring a vehicle to pay a license fee in lieu of other taxes, the funds so obtained to be used for the construction and maintenance of public highways. In practice, this method has already been applied to motor vehicles in most states and has proven to be an important source of revenue. Its application to horse-drawn vehicles has not been attempted, due probably to the fact that such horse-drawn vehicles as use the public highways are also employed about the farm or in the towns and the determination of an equitable basis for taxation involves many difficulties. The rate of the fee for motor vehicles should be based on their destructive effect on the road so far as that is possible. The scale of fees should therefore take account of weight and speed of vehicle and if the license is in lieu of all other taxes, it should also be graduated with the cost of the vehicle. When funds are thus derived, every precaution should be taken to insure that the money is used judiciously for construction and especially for maintenance on those roads most useful to motor traffic. =Highway Bonds.=--Bond issues for road improvement afford a means of constructing roads and paying for them while they are being used. A very large volume of such bonds are outstanding in the United States. Road bonds should be issued only for durable types of improvement and the life of the bond should be well within the probable useful life of the road surface. It is customary and highly desirable that the general nature and extent of the improvement be established before the bonds are issued. It is desirable that bond issues be subject to approval by referendum before issue and that is provided in every instance. Highway bonds are of three classes known as Sinking Fund, Annuity and Serial Bonds, respectively. The earlier bonds issued were almost all of the sinking fund class, but in recent years the serial bond has been widely employed and is probably the most satisfactory to administer. =Sinking Fund Bonds.=[1]--When this type of bond is employed, the amount of the expenditure for road improvement is determined upon and the length of the period during which tax payments shall be made is settled. To employ a concrete example, it may be assumed that $100,000 is to be expended for road work and is to be paid at the end of ten years. The interest rate on the bonds will vary with the condition of the bond market and the stability of the political unit issuing the bonds, but is usually about 5 per cent. Knowing these factors, the amount to be added to the sinking fund each year is computed. In order to pay the interest on the bonds, a tax of suitable rate is levied, and in order to retire the bonds at the end of the period, a sum is set aside each year which is supposed to be invested and draw interest which will be added to the principle, and the principle and interest comprise the sinking fund. The principle of the sinking fund is obtained by tax levies, a sum being added to the principle of the sinking fund each year. [1] For a more detailed discussion of highway bonds see Bulletin 136, U. S. Dept. of Agriculture, which is the basis of this discussion. The success of this method of financing depends upon the proper administration of the sinking fund. It must be invested with fidelity and the fund be kept intact. Usually the sinking fund cannot be invested at as high a rate of interest as the bonds bear and there is some loss as a result. Road bonds bearing 5 per cent interest can usually be sold at par while the sinking fund will usually net about 3 or 3-1/2 per cent interest. The total cost of a bond issue will be greater by the sinking fund method than by either of the other methods described. =Annuity Bonds.=--Annuity bonds are drawn in such a manner that the amount of the payment for principle and interest is the same each year during the life of the bond. When the amount of the issue and the rate of interest has been determined and the amount of the desired annual payment has been determined, the number of years the bonds must run is computed. This method is convenient in that the amount of the tax to be levied each year remains constant. =Serial Bonds.=--Serial bonds are drawn so that a uniform amount of the principle is retired each year after retirement starts and the total interest payments decrease each year after the first bonds are retired. The first bond may not be retired for a number of years after the issue of the bonds, but when it once starts retirement proceeds at a constant rate annually. =Comparison of Methods of Issuing Bonds.=--The relative costs of financing by either of the three methods depends upon the rate of interest in each case and the net rate secured on the sinking fund provided for retiring sinking fund bonds. For comparative purposes, some typical examples are given in Table 3. These illustrate the differences in total cost of securing $100,000 by each of the three methods at various interest rates. TABLE 3 TOTAL COST OF A LOAN OF $100,000 FOR 20 YEARS, INTEREST COMPOUNDED ANNUALLY ---------+---------------------------------------+---------+--------- Annual | Sinking Fund Compounded | | Interest | Annually at | | on Bonds +----------+----------------+-----------+ Annuity | Serial |3 per cent| 3-1/2 per cent | 4 per cent| | ---------+----------+----------------+-----------+---------+--------- 4 | $154,431 | $150,722 | $147,163 |$147,163 | $142,000 4-1/2 | 164,431 | 160,722 | 157,163 | 153,752 | 147,250 5 | 174,431 | 170,722 | 167,163 | 160,485 | 152,500 5-1/2 | 184,431 | 180,722 | 177,163 | 167,359 | 157,750 6 | 194,431 | 190,722 | 187,163 | 174,369 | 163,000 ---------+----------+----------------+-----------+---------+--------- =Desirability of Road Bonds.=--In theory the bond method of financing enables the highway authorities to construct a large mileage of roads in a few years and spreads the cost over the period during which the public is being benefited. Better prices are obtained on contracts for a large mileage than for smaller jobs, and the community can receive the benefit more quickly than where construction proceeds piecemeal with current funds. The vital consideration is to insure that the term of the bonds is well within the useful life of the road, and that ample provision is made to maintain the roads during that period. Under proper restrictions the bond method of financing is to be commended. The bonds are an attractive investment and readily marketable on satisfactory terms. CHAPTER III DRAINAGE OF ROADS =The Necessity for Drainage.=--The importance of drainage for all roads subject to the effects of storm or underground water has always been recognized by road builders, but during recent years constantly increasing attention has been given to this phase of road construction. It is unfortunate that there has in the past been some tendency to consider elaborate drainage provisions less necessary where rigid types of surfaces were employed. It has become apparent, from the nature of the defects observed in all sorts of road surfaces, that to neglect or minimize the importance of drainage in connection with either earth roads or any class of surfaced roads is to invite rapid deterioration of some sections of the roadway surface and to add to maintenance costs. The degree to which lack of drainage provisions affect the serviceability of the road surface varies with the amount of precipitation in the locality and the manner in which it is distributed throughout the year. In the humid areas of the United States, which are, roughly, those portions east of a north and south line passing through Omaha and Kansas City, together with the northern part of the Pacific slope, precipitation is generally in excess of 30 inches per year and fairly well distributed throughout the year, but with seasonal variations in rate. In these areas, the effect of the precipitation, both as regards its tendency to lower the stability of soils and as an eroding agent, must be carefully provided against in highway design. Outside of the areas mentioned above, the precipitation is much less than 30 inches per year and its effect as an agent of erosion is of greatest significance, although in restricted areas there may be short periods when the soil is made unstable by ground water. =Importance of Design.=--The drainage system for a proposed road improvement ought to be designed with as much care as any other element, and, to do so, a study must be made of all factors that have any bearing on the drainage requirements and the probable effectiveness of the proposed drainage system. The well established principles of land drainage should be followed so far as applicable. The basic principle of road drainage is to minimize the effect of water to such an extent that there will always be a layer of comparatively dry soil of appreciable thickness under the traveled part of the road. This layer should probably never be less than two feet thick and for soils of a structure favorable to capillary action it should be at least three feet thick. The means employed to accomplish the requisite drainage will be as various as the conditions encountered. =Surface Drainage.=--The drainage method which is by far the most nearly general in application is that which utilizes open ditches, and the system which employs these ditches is usually referred to as surface drainage. The full possibilities of this method of minimizing the effects of storm water are rarely fully utilized in road construction. Very frequently, deterioration of a road surface is directly attributable to failure to provide adequately for the removal of the storm water or water from the melting of snow that has fallen on the road, or water that flows to the road from land adjacent thereto. Surface water can usually most cheaply and expeditiously be carried away in open ditches, although special conditions are occasionally encountered which require supplementary tile drains. The cross section commonly adopted for roads lends itself naturally to the construction of drainage ditches at the sides of the traveled way, and these are usually the principal dependence for the disposal of storm water. =Run-off.=--The capacity required of side ditches to insure satisfactory surface drainage will be affected by the amount and nature of the precipitation in the region where the road is built. The annual rainfall in a region may amount to several feet, but may be well distributed throughout the year with an absence of excessive rainfall for short periods, that is, flood conditions may rarely occur. In other areas, the annual rainfall may be comparatively small but the precipitation occurs at a very high rate, that is, flood conditions may be common, or it may be at a low rate extending over a considerable period. These peculiarities must be known before an adequate drainage system can be planned. It is almost universally true in the United States that precipitation at a very high rate will be for a relatively short duration, and during these short periods, which usually do not exceed thirty minutes, a portion of the water that falls on the areas adjacent to the road and that drains to the road ditches will soak into the soil and therefore not reach the ditches along the road. The extent to which the water is taken up by the soil will vary with the porosity and slope of the land and the character of the growth thereon. Cultivated land will absorb nearly all of the water from showers up to fifteen or twenty minutes duration; grass land a somewhat smaller percentage; and hard baked or other impervious soil will absorb a comparatively small amount. Rocky ground and steep slopes will absorb very little storm water. The surface of the road is designed to turn water rapidly to the ditches, but when the material is the natural soil, there is always considerable absorption of storm water. Surfaces such as sandclay, gravel and macadam do not absorb to exceed 10 per cent of the precipitation during short showers. Bituminous surfaces, brick and concrete pavements, do not absorb an appreciable amount of storm water. Generally it is best to assume that if a rain lasts for forty-five minutes or more, all of the water will run off, as the soil will reach a state of saturation in that time. This is not true of deep sand, but is for nearly all other soils. The ditch capacity needed will therefore depend upon the area drained, the character of the soil, the slopes and the rainfall characteristics of the region, and upon the nature of the road surface. For a required capacity, the cross section area of the ditch will vary inversely as the grade, because the velocity of flow increases with an increase in the grade of the ditch. If the surface water must be carried along the road for distances exceeding five or six hundred feet, the ditch must be constructed of increasing capacity toward the outlet in order to accommodate the accumulated volume of water. The velocity of flow varies not only with the grade, but with the shape of the cross section, cleanness of the channel, the depth of the water in the channel, alignment of the channel and the kind of material in which the channel is formed. It is not necessary to go to great refinement in the design of the side ditches for the ordinary case where the water is carried along the road for only a few hundred feet. The ditches are made of ample capacity by using the commonly accepted cross section for a road, which will be discussed in a later paragraph. But where large areas must be drained by the road ditches, it is desirable carefully to design the side ditches. The basis for that design is too lengthy to be included herein, and reference should be made to a standard treatise on the subject. =Ordinary Design of Ditches.=--For grades of one per cent or less on roads in the humid area, the bottom of the ditch should be at least three and one-half feet lower than the traveled surface of the road, except for very sandy soil. For grades greater than one per cent, this depth may be decreased one foot, and for grades of four per cent and upward, the depth may be still less. These general rules for depth are susceptible of variation but are believed to be the minimum except in arid or semi-arid climates. It is far better to be too liberal in ditch allowance than to be too conservative. In arid or semi-arid regions, the ditch design will be based on the necessity of providing for flood flow and preventing damage through erosion. Ordinary drainage requirements will be satisfactory with the ditch about one foot deep. If the topography is such that it is evident considerable storm water will flow from the adjacent land to the road ditches, the design must be modified to take this into account. Sometimes such water can be diverted by ditches well back from the road, and thus prevented from flowing into the side ditches along the roadway. It is especially desirable to divert water, which would otherwise flow down the slope of a cut, by means of a ditch on the hill-side above the upper edge of the slope of the cut. Ditches are not effective unless they afford a free flow throughout their length and have an outlet to a drainage channel of ample capacity. Therefore, ditch grades should be established by survey, especially if the gradient is less than one per cent, and the construction work should be checked to insure that the ditch is actually constructed as planned. A few high places in the ditch will greatly reduce the effectiveness, although these may appear at the time of construction to be slight. Constricted places, such as might be due to a small amount of loose earth left in the ditch, are always to be avoided. Where the side ditch passes from a cut to the berm alongside a fill, the ditch should be excavated throughout in the undisturbed natural soil, five feet or more from the toe of the slope of the fill, and along the filled portion of the road there should be a berm of three or four feet between the toe of the slope of the fill and the near edge of the ditch. =Underground Water.=--In a preceding paragraph, mention was made of the fact that only a part of the storm water runs off over the surface of the ground, the larger part being absorbed by the soil. The water thus absorbed flows downward through the pores in the soil until it is deflected laterally by some physical characteristic of the soil structure. The movement of underground water is affected by many circumstances, but only two conditions need be discussed herein. Underground water, like surface water, tends to attain a level surface, but in so doing it may need to flow long distances through the pores of the soil, and to overcome the resistance incident to so doing some head will be required. That is to say, the water will be higher at some places than at others. If a cut is made in grading the road, the road surface may actually be lower than the ground water level in the land adjoining the road. As a result, the water will seep out of the side slopes in the cut and keep the ditches wet, or even furnish enough water to occasion a flow in the ditch. Similarly, the higher head of the underground water near the top of a hill may result in ground water coming quite close to the surface some distance down the hill. The remedy in both cases is tile underdrains alongside the road to lower the ground water level so that it cannot affect the road surface. Sometimes the ground water encounters an impervious stratum as it flows downward through the soil, or one that is less pervious than the surface soil. When such is the case, the water will follow along this stratum, and should there be an outcrop of the dense stratum, a spring will be found at that place. This may be on a highway. The impervious stratum may not actually outcrop but may lie only a few feet under the surface of the road, in which case, the road surface will be so water soaked as to be unstable. The so-called "seepy places" so often noted along a road are generally the result of this condition. This condition can be corrected by tile laid so as to intercept the flow at a depth that precludes damage to the road. Commonly, the tile will be laid diagonally across the road some distance above the section where the effect of the water is noted, and will be turned parallel to the road at the ditch line and carried under one of the side ditches to an outlet. =Tile Drains.=--Where the soil and climatic conditions are such that the roadway at times becomes unstable because of underground water rising to a level not far below the road surface, the ground water level is lowered by means of tile underdrains. The function of the tile drains in such cases is precisely the same as when employed in land drainage; to lower the ground water level. =Laying Tile.=--The tile lines are usually laid in trenches parallel to the center line of the road near the ditch line and at least 4 feet deep so as to keep the ground water level well down. They must be carefully laid to line and grade. A good outlet must be provided and the last few joints of pipe should be bell-and-spigot sewer pipe with the joints filled with cement mortar. The opening of the tile should be covered with a coarse screen to prevent animals from nesting in the tile. It is frequently necessary to lay a line of tile at the toe of the slope in cuts to intercept water that will percolate under the road from the banks at the sides. In some cases, it is desirable to back-fill the tile trench with gravel or broken stone to insure rapid penetration of surface water to the tile. In other instances, it is advantageous to place catch basins about every three or four hundred feet. These may be of concrete or of tile placed on end or may be blind catch basins formed by filling a section of the trench with broken stone. When a blind catch basin is used, the top should be built up into a mound, and for a tile or concrete catch basin, a grating of the beehive type should be used, so that flow to the tile will not be obstructed by weeds and other trash that is carried to the catch basin. =Culverts.=--Culverts and bridges are a part of the drainage system and the distinction between the two is merely a matter of size. Generally, structures of spans less than about eight feet are classed as culverts, but the practice is not uniform. In this discussion culverts will be defined as of spans of 8 feet or less. Numerous culverts are required to afford passage for storm water and small streams crosswise of the road, and their aggregate cost is a large item in the cost of road improvement. The size of the waterway of a culvert required in any location will be estimated by an inspection of the stream and existing structure, and by determining the extent and physical characteristics of the drainage area. Sometimes there is sufficient evidence at the site to indicate quite closely the size required, but this should always be checked by run-off computations. The drainage area contributing water to the stream passing through the culvert under consideration is computed from contour maps or from a survey of the ground, and the size of culvert determined by one of the empirical formulas applicable to that purpose. In these formulas, the solution depends upon the proper selection of a factor "C" which varies in accordance with the nature of the drainage area. Two of these that are quite widely used are as follows: _Myers' Formula: a = CA_ Where _a_ = area of cross section of culvert in square feet. _A_ = area in acres of the drainage area above culvert. _C_ a factor varying from 1 for flat country to 4 for mountainous country or rocky soil, the exact value to be selected after an inspection of the drainage area. _Talbot's Formula_: Area of waterway in square feet = _C_ [Square root of] ((Drainage area in acres)^3) Transcriber's Note: The above formula used the mathematical square root symbol in the original. One should read it as "C times the square root of the Drainage area in acres cubed." _C_ being variable according to circumstances thus: "For steep and rocky ground _C_ varies from 2/3 to 1. For rolling agricultural country, subject to floods at times of melting snow, and with length of valley three or four times its width, _C_ is about 1/3, and if stream is longer in proportion to the area, decrease _C_. In districts not affected by accumulated snow, and where the length of valley is several times its width, 1/5 or 1/6 or even less may be used. _C_ should be increased for steep side slopes, especially if the upper part of the valley has a much greater fall than the channel at the culvert. The value of _C_ to be used in any case is determined after an inspection of the drainage area." [Illustration: Fig. 2. Design of Pipe Culvert and Bulkhead] =Length of Culvert.=--The clear length between end walls on a culvert should be at least equal to the width of the roadway between ditches. This is a minimum of 20 feet for secondary roads and ranges from 24 to 30 feet for main roads. The headwall to the culvert should not be a monument, but should be no higher than needed to prevent vehicles from leaving the roadway at the culvert. =Farm Entrance Culverts.=--At farm entrances, culverts are required to carry the farm driveway across the side ditch of the road. These culverts are usually about 16 feet along, and should be of a size adequate to take the flow of the side ditch. The farm entrance culvert should be of such design that it can be easily removed to permit cleaning out the ditches with a road grader. TYPES OF CULVERTS Culverts constructed of concrete and poured in place are called box culverts because of the rectangular form of the cross section. Culverts of pre-cast pipe are known as pipe culverts. Several forms of pipe culvert are in general use. [Illustration: Fig. 3.--Typical Concrete Box Culvert] =Metal Pipe.=--These may be of cast iron, steel or wrought iron. The cast iron pipe is very durable but expensive and heavy to handle and is not widely used in highway construction. Steel pipe has been employed to a limited extent but its durability is questioned. At least it is known that the pipe made from uncoated, light sheet steel is not very durable. Sheet iron and sheets made from alloy iron coated with spelter have been extensively used and seem to be durable, especially when laid deep enough to eliminate possibility of damage from heavy loads. To insure reasonable resistance to corrosion, the metal sheets should be coated with at least one and one-half ounces of spelter per square foot of sheet and the sheets should not be lighter than 16 gauge for small sizes and should be heavier for the larger sizes. =Clay and Cement Concrete Pipe.=--The ordinary burned clay bell and spigot pipe that is employed for sewer construction is sometimes used for culverts. It must be very carefully bedded, preferably on a concrete cradle and the joints filled with cement mortar. Culverts of this type have a tendency to break under unusual loads, such as traction engines or trucks. They may be damaged by the pressure from freezing water, particularly when successive freezing and thawing results in the culvert filling with mushy snow, which subsequently freezes. =Concrete Pipe.=--Reinforced concrete pipe is a satisfactory material for culverts, if the pipe is properly designed. The pipe should be carefully laid on a firm earth bed with earth carefully back-filled and tamped around the pipe. The joints in the pipe should be filled with cement mortar, or should be of a design that will be tight. =Endwalls for Culverts.=--A substantial retaining wall is placed at each end of the culvert barrel, whatever the type. This is to prevent the end of the culvert from becoming choked with earth and to retain the roadway at the culvert. It also indicates to the drivers the location of the end of the culvert. The endwall extends a foot or more below the floor of the culvert to prevent water from cutting under the barrel. Plain concrete or stone masonry are most commonly used for culvert endwalls. [Illustration: Fig. 4.--Two Types of Drop Inlet Culvert] =Reinforced Concrete Box Culverts.=--The pipe culvert is limited in application to the smaller waterways. Reinforced concrete is extensively used for culverts of all sizes, but especially for the larger ones. These are usually constructed with endwalls integral with the barrel of the culvert. Culverts of this type must be designed for the loads anticipated to insure suitable strength and stability, and must be constructed of a good quality of concrete. Figs. 2 and 3 show designs for pipe and box culverts. [Illustration: Fig. 5.--Drop Inlet Culvert] =Drop Inlet Culverts.=--In some locations erosion has begun in the fields adjacent to a culvert and it will probably continue until the stream above the culvert has eroded to about the level of the floor of the culvert. This is a reason for placing the culvert as high as the roadway will permit, so long as the area above the culvert will be properly drained. Considerable reclamation of land is possible if the culvert is constructed with a box at the inlet and as shown in Fig. 4. The area up-stream from the culvert will not erode below the level of the top of the box at the inlet end. Where the stream crossing the road has eroded to considerable depth or has considerable fall, as would sometimes be the case on side hill roads, the culvert barrel would follow the general slope of the ditch but should have a drop inlet. This type of culvert is shown in Fig. 5. CHAPTER IV ROAD DESIGN =Necessity for Planning.=--Sometimes highway improvement is the result of spasmodic and carelessly directed work carried out at odd times on various sections of a road, finally resulting in the worst places being at least temporarily bettered. The grade on the steepest hills is probably reduced somewhat and some of the worst of the low lying sections are filled in and thereby raised. Short sections of surfacing such as gravel or broken stone may be placed here and there. From the standpoint of the responsible official, the road has been "improved," but too often such work does not produce an improvement that lasts, and sometimes it is not even of any great immediate benefit to those who use the roads. In nearly every instance such work costs more in money and labor that it is worth. Lasting improvement of public highways can be brought about only through systematic and correlated construction carried on for a series of years. In other words, there must be a road improvement policy which will be made effective through some agency that is so organized that its policies will be perpetuated and is clothed with enough authority to be capable of enforcing the essential features of good design and of securing the proper construction of improvements. Details of highway construction and design must vary with many local conditions and types of surface. The limits of grades and the many other details of design may properly be adopted for a specific piece of work only after an adequate investigation of the local requirements and in the light of wide experience in supervising road improvement. New ideas are constantly being injected into the art of road building, but these are disseminated somewhat slowly, so that valuable devices and improvements in methods remain long unknown except to the comparatively few who have the means for informing themselves of all such developments. It follows then that the logical system of conducting road improvement is through an agency of continuing personnel which will supervise the preparation of suitable plans and direct the construction in accordance with the most recent experience. =Road Plans.=--The information shown on the plans prepared for road improvement varies somewhat with the design and with the ideas of the engineer as to what constitutes necessary information, but in general the plans show the existing road and the new construction contemplated in an amount of detail depending principally upon the character of the construction. Simple plans suffice for grade reduction or reshaping an earth road surface, while for the construction of paved roads, the plans must be worked out in considerable detail. The essential requirement is that there be given on the plans all information necessary to enable the construction to be carried out according to the intentions of the engineer, that all parts of the work fit together, that the culverts are of the proper size and located at the proper places, ditches drain properly, grades are reduced to the predetermined rate, that excavated material is utilized and that an exact record of the work done is retained. Plans are indispensable to economical road construction and the preparation of the plans is the work of the expert in road design, that is, the highway engineer. =Problem of Design.=--The problem of road design is to prepare plans for a road improvement with the various details so correlated as to insure in the road constructed in accordance therewith the maximum of safety, convenience and economy to the users thereof. The degree to which the design will be effective will depend to a considerable extent upon the financial limitations imposed upon the engineer, but skill and effort on the plans will do a great deal to offset financial handicap and no pains should be spared in the preparation of the plans. Moreover, the plans must afford all of the information needed by the contractor in preparing a bid for the work. =Preliminary Investigation.=--The first step in road improvement is to secure an adequate idea of the existing conditions on the road or roads involved. The detail to which this information need go will depend entirely upon the purpose of the preliminary investigation, for before a definite plan is prepared, it may be necessary to choose the best from among several available routes. For this purpose, it is not always necessary to make an actual instrument survey of the several routes. A hasty reconnaissance will usually be sufficient. This is made by walking or riding over the road and noting, in a suitable book or upon prepared blanks, the information needed. The items of information recorded will usually be as follows: distances, grades, type of soil on the road and nature of existing surface, character of drainage, location of bridges and culverts and the type of each with notes as to its condition, location of railway crossings and notes as to type, location of intersecting roads, farm entrances, and all similar features that have a bearing on the choice of routes. These data can be obtained in a comparatively short time by a skilled observer who may drive over the road in a motor car. Sometimes it may be desirable to make a more careful study of some certain sections of road and this may be done by waking over the section in question in order to make a more deliberate survey of the features to be considered than is possible when riding in a motor car. Factors other than relative lengths of routes will obviously determine the cost of improvement and the comparative merits of the improved roads. Some special characteristic of a road, such as bad railroad crossings or a few bad hills, may eliminate a route, or availability of materials along a route may offset disadvantages of alignment or grade. In special cases, complete surveys of routes may be required finally to select the best route, but these instances are few in number. =Road Surveys.=--When a road has been definitely selected for improvement, a careful survey is made to furnish information for the preparation of the plans. This will consist of a transit survey and a level survey. The transit survey is made by running a line between established corners following the recorded route of the road, or if no records are available or the road is irregular in alignment, by establishing arbitrary reference points and running a line along the center line of the existing road or parallel thereto. The topography is referenced to this line in such completeness that it can be reproduced on the plans. The level survey consists in taking levels on cross sections of the road at one hundred foot intervals, and oftener if there are abrupt changes in grade. Special level determinations are made at streams, railroad crossings, intersecting roads or lanes and wherever it appears some special features of the terrain should be recorded. From the surveys and such other information as has been assembled relative to the project, a plan is prepared which embodies a design presumed to provide for an improvement in accordance with the best highway practice. THE PROBLEM OF DESIGN It will be convenient to consider separately the components of a road design, although in the actual design the consideration of these cannot be separated because all parts of the plan must fit together. =Alignment.=--The alignment of the road is determined to a considerable extent by the existing right-of-way, which may follow section lines, regardless of topography, as is the case with many roads in the prairie states, or it may follow the valleys, ridges, or other favorable location in hilly country. In many places the roads of necessity wind around among the hills in order to avoid excessive grades. In designing an improvement, it is generally desirable to follow the existing right-of-way so far as possible. But the element of safety must not be lost sight of, and curves should not preclude a view ahead for sufficient distance to insure safety to vehicles. The necessary length of clear view ahead is usually assumed to be 250 feet, but probably 200 feet is a satisfactory compromise distance when a greater distance cannot be obtained at reasonable cost. To secure suitable sight distance, the curves must be of long radii, and where possible the right-of-way on the inside of the curve should be cleared of trees or brush that will obstruct the view. Where the topography will not permit a long radius curve and the view is obstructed by an embankment or by growing crops or other growth, it is desirable to separate the tracks around the curve to eliminate the possibility of accidents on the curve. This is readily accomplished if the road is surfaced, but if it is not surfaced, the same end is accomplished by making the earth road of ample width at the curve. Relocations should be resorted to whenever they shorten distances or reduce grades sufficiently to compensate for the cost. =Intersections.=--At road intersections, it is always difficult to design a curve that entirely meets the requirements of safety because there is not enough room in the right-of-way, and enough additional right-of-way must be secured to permit the proper design. It is not necessary to provide an intersection that is adapted to high speed traffic, where main roads cross, but, on the contrary, a design that automatically causes traffic to slow up has distinct advantages. Where a main route, improved with a hard surface, crosses secondary roads, it is satisfactory to continue the paved surface across the intersecting road at normal width and make no provision for the intersecting road traffic other than a properly graded approach at the intersection. =Superelevation.=--On all curved sections of road, other than intersections, account is taken of the tendency of motor cars to skid toward the outside of the curve. This tendency is counteracted by designing the cross section with superelevation. [Illustration: Fig. 6] In Fig. 6, _F_ represents the tangential force that tends to cause skidding. _W_ represents the weight of the vehicle in pounds, THETA = the angle of superelevated surface _c-d_, with the horizontal _c-a_. _R_ represents the radius of the curve upon which the vehicle is moving. _w_ is the component of the weight parallel to the surface _c-d_, _v_ = velocity of the vehicle in feet per second. _m_ = mass of vehicle = _W/g THETA_ _w_ = _W_ tan _THETA_ _mv^2_ _wv^2_ _F_ = ------- = ------ _R_ _gR_ If _F_ = _w_ there will be no tendency to skid; hence the rate of superelevation necessary in any case is as follows: _Wv^2_ _W_ tan _THETA_ = ------- _gR_ _v^2_ tan _THETA_ = ------- _gR_ The amount of superelevation required, therefore, varies as the square of the velocity and inversely as the radius of the curve. Theoretically, the amount of the superelevation should increase with a decrease in the radius of the curve and should also increase as the square of the speed of the vehicle. On account of the variation in speeds of the vehicles, the superelevation for curves on a highway can only be designed to suit the average speed. At turns approaching ninety degrees, the curve is likely to be of such short radius that it is impossible to maintain the ordinary road speed around the curve, even with the maximum superelevation permissible. It is good practice to provide the theoretical superelevation on all curves having radii greater than 300 feet for vehicle speeds of the maximum allowed by law, which is generally about 25 miles per hour. Where the radii are less than 300 feet, the theoretical superelevation for the maximum vehicle speeds gives a superelevation too great for motor trucks and horse drawn vehicles and generally no charge is made in superelevation for radii less than 300 feet, but all such curves are constructed with the same superelevation as the curve with 300 foot radius. The diagram in Fig. 7 shows the theoretical superelevation for various curve radii. [Illustration: Fig. 7. Curves showing Theoretical Superelevation for Various Degrees of Curve for Various Speeds of Vehicle] At the intersection of important highways, the problem is complicated by the necessity for providing for through traffic in both directions and for traffic which may turn in either direction and the engineer must provide safe roadways for each class of traffic. =Tractive Resistance.=--The adoption of a policy regarding the grades on a road involves an understanding of the effect of variation in the character of the surface and in rate of grade upon the energy required to transport a load over the highway. The forces that oppose the movement of a horse drawn vehicle are fairly well understood and their magnitude has been measured by several observers, but comparatively little is known about the forces opposing translation of rubber tired self-propelled vehicles. The resistance to translation of a vehicle is made up of three elements: resistance of the road surface to the rolling wheel, resistance of the air to the movement of the vehicle and internal friction in the vehicle itself. =Rolling Resistance.=--When the wheel of a vehicle rolls over a road surface, both the wheel and the surface are distorted. If the wheel has steel tires and the road surface is plastic, there will be considerable distortion of the road surface and very little of the wheel. A soft rubber tire will be distorted considerably by a brick road surface. Between these extremes there are innumerable combinations of tire and road surface encountered, but there is always a certain amount of distortion of either road surface or wheel, or of both, which has the same effect upon the force necessary for translation as a slight upward grade. When both the tire and the road surface strongly resist distortion (as steel tires on vitrified brick paving), the resistance to translation is low but the factor of impact is likely to be introduced. Where impact is present, energy is used up in the pounding and grinding of the wheels on the surface, and this factor increases as the speed of translation, and may be a considerable item. Impact is especially significant on rough roads with motor vehicles, particularly trucks, traveling at high speed. These two factors (impact and rolling resistance) combined constitute the major part of the resistance to translation for horse drawn vehicles. =Internal Resistance.=--For horse drawn vehicles, the internal resistance consists of axle friction, which is small in amount. For self-propelled vehicles, the internal resistance consists of axle friction and friction in the driving mechanism, of which gear friction and the churning of oil in the gear boxes is a large item. Internal friction is of significance in all self-propelled vehicles and especially so at high speeds. =Air Resistance.=--At slow speeds, the resistance of still air to translation is small, but as the speed increases, the air resistance increases rapidly and at the usual speed of the passenger automobile on the road becomes a very considerable part of the total resistance to translation. This factor has no significance in connection with horse drawn vehicles, but is to be taken into account when dealing with self-propelled vehicles at speeds in excess of five miles per hour. Many determinations of tractive resistance with horse drawn vehicles have been made from time to time and these show values that are fairly consistent when the inevitable variations in surfaces of the same type are taken into account. Table 4 is a composite made up of values selected from various reliable sources and Table 5 is from experiments by Professor J. B. Davidson on California highways. TABLE 4 AVERAGE TRACTIVE RESISTANCE OF ROAD SURFACES TO STEEL TIRED VEHICLES Surface Tractive force per ton Earth packed and dry 100 Earth dusty 106 Earth muddy 190 Sand loose 320 Gravel good 51 Gravel loose 147 Cinders well-packed 92 Oiled road--dry 61 Oiled road--wet 108 Macadam--very good 38 Macadam--average 46 Sheet asphalt 38 Asphaltic concrete 40 Vitrified brick--new 56 Wood block--good 33 Wood block--poor 42 Cobblestone 54 Granite tramway 27 Asphalt block 52 Granite block 47 TABLE 5 TRACTIVE RESISTANCES TO STEEL TIRED VEHICLES[1] ----------+-----------------+-----------------+-----------+----------- | | Condition | Tractive | Resistance Test No. | Kind of Road | of Road | Total lb. | per ton lb. ----------+-----------------+-----------------+-----------+----------- 29-30-31 | Concrete |Good, excellent | 83.0 | 27.6 | (unsurfaced) | | | [2]11-12 | Concrete |Good, excellent | 90.0 | 30.0 | (unsurfaced) | | | 26-27-28 | Concrete 3/8-in.|Good, excellent | 147.6 | 49.2 | surface | | | | asphaltic oil | | | | and screenings| | | 13-14 | Concrete 3/8-in.|Good, excellent | 155.0 | 51.6 | surface | | | | asphaltic oil | | | | and screenings| | | 9-10 | Macadam, |Good, excellent | 193.0 | 64.3 | water-bound | | | 22-23 | Topeka on |Good, excellent | 205.5 | 68.5 | concrete | | | 8 | Gravel |Compact, good | 225.0 | 75.0 | | condition | | [3]45-48 | Oil macadam |Good, new | 234.5 | 78.2 [4]46-47 | Oil macadam |Good, new | 244.0 | 81.3 38 | Gravel |Packed, in | 247.0 | 82.3 | | good condition | | 18-19-20 | Topeka on plank |Good condition, | 265.0 | 88.3 | | soft, wagon | | | | left marks | | 34 | Earth road |Firm, 1-1/2-in. | 276.0 | 92.0 | | fine loose dust| | 24-25 | Topeka on plank |Good condition, | 278.0 | 92.6 | | but soft | | 1-2-5 | Earth road |Dust 3/4 to 2 in.| 298.0 | 99.3 3-3 | Earth |Mud, stiff, firm | 654.0 | 218.0 | | underneath | | 6-7 | Gravel |Loose, not packed| 789.0 | 263.0 ----------+-----------------+-----------------+-----------+----------- [1] Prof. J. B. Davidson in _Engineering News-Record_, August 17, 1918. [2] Graphic record indicates that the load was being accelerated when test was started. [3] Drawn with motor truck at 2-1/2 miles per hour. [4] Drawn with motor truck at 5 miles per hour. Comparatively few data are available showing the tractive resistance of motor vehicles, but the following tables are based on sufficient data to serve to illustrate the general trend. These data on the tractive resistances of an electric truck with solid rubber tires on asphalt and bitulithic, wood, brick and granite block, water-bonded and tar macadam, cinder and gravel road surfaces were obtained by A. E. Kennelly and O. R. Schurig in the research division of the electrical engineering department of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and are published in Bulletin No. 10 of the division. An electric truck was run over measured sections, ranging from 400 to 2600 feet in length, surfaced with these various materials, at certain speeds per hour, ranging from about 8 to about 15.5 miles per hour. The result of the observations of speeds, tractive resistances, conditions of surfaces, etc., were collected and studied in various combinations. TABLE 6 ----------------------+-----------------------+-----------+---------- | | Tractive | Tractive | |Resistance |Resistance Type of Surface | Condition of Surface | in lbs. | in lbs. | | per ton | per ton | | 10 miles |12.4 miles | | per hr. | per hr. ----------------------+-----------------------+-----------+---------- Asphalt | Good | 20.4 | Asphalt | Poor | 22.6 | 25.5 Wood block | Good | 24.2 | 25.3 Brick block | Good | 24.6 | 26.6 Granite block | Good | 40.3 | 45.75 Brick block | Slightly worn | 25.1 | 28.0 Granite block with | | | cement joints | Good | 25.5 | 30.2 Macadam, water bonded | Dry and hard | 23.3 | 25.8 Macadam, water bonded | Fair, heavily oiled | 35.9 | 38.7 Macadam, water bonded | Poor, damp, some holes| 36.3 | 41.6 Tar macadam | Good | 25.7 | 28.0 Tar macadam | Very soft | 36.8 | 38.7 Tar macadam | Many holes, soft, | | | extremely poor | 52.4 | 60.6 Cinder | Fair, hard | 27.5 | 30.6 Gravel | Fair, dusty | 30.4 | 33.0 ----------------------+-----------------------+-----------+---------- [Illustration: Fig. 8] =Effect of Grades.=--Grades increase or decrease the resistance to translation due to the fact that there is a component of the weight of the vehicles parallel to the road surface and opposite in direction to the motion when the load is ascending the hill and in the same direction when the vehicle is descending. In Fig. 8 _W_ represents the weight of the vehicle, acting vertically downward, _w_ is the component of the weight perpendicular to the road surface and _W_{2}_ is the component parallel to the road surface. _W_{2}_ = _W_ tan _THETA_. tan _THETA_ = 0.01 × per cent of grade. _W_{2}_ = 0.01 _W_ × per cent grade. _W_{2}_ = 0.01 × 2000 × per cent of grade, for each ton of weight of vehicle. Hence _W_{2}_ = 20 lbs. per ton of load for each one per cent of grade. The gravity force acting upon a vehicle parallel to the surface on a grade is therefore 20 lbs. per ton for each one per cent of grade and this force tends either to retard or to accelerate the movement of the vehicle. Let _F_ = the sum of all forces opposing the translation of a vehicle. _F = f_{r} + f_{i} + f_{p} + f_{a} + f_{g}_ (1) where _f_{r}_ = rolling resistance of road surface. _f_{i}_ = resistance due to internal friction in the vehicle. _f_{p}_ = resistance due to impact of the road surface. _f_{a}_ = resistance due to air. _f_{g}_ = resistance due to grade, which is positive when ascending and negative when descending. All of the above in pounds per ton of 2000 lbs. Let _T_ = the tractive effort applied to the vehicle by any means. _T_ >= must be greater than _F_ in order to move the vehicle. By an inspection of (1), it will be seen that for a given vehicle and any type of road surface, all terms are constant except _f_{a}_ and _f_{g}_. _f_{a}_ varies as the speed of the vehicle and the driver can materially decrease _f_{a}_ by reducing speed. _f_{g}_ varies with the rate of grade. For any vehicle loaded for satisfactory operation on a level road with the power available, the limiting condition is the factor _f_{g}_. If the load is such as barely to permit motion on a level road, any hill will stall the vehicle. Therefore, in practice the load is always so adjusted that there is an excess of power on a level road. If draft animals are employed the load is usually about one fourth of that which the animals could actually move by their maximum effort for a short period. With motor vehicles, the excess power is provided for by gearing. If it be assured a load of convenient size is being moved on a level road by draft animals, there is a limit to the rate of grade up which the load can be drawn by the maximum effort of the animals. Tests indicate that the horse can pull at a speed of 2-1/2 miles per hour, an amount equal to 1/8 to 1/10 of its weight, and for short intervals can pull 3/4 of its weight. The maximum effort possible is therefore six times the average pull, but this is possible for only short intervals. A very short steep hill would afford a condition where such effort would be utilized. But for hills of any length, that is, one hundred feet or more but not to exceed five hundred feet, it is safe to count on the draft animal pulling three times his normal pulling power for sustained effort. The limiting grade for the horse drawn vehicle is therefore one requiring, to overcome the effect of grade, or _f_{g}_, a pull in excess of three times that exerted on the level. A team of draft animals weighing 1800 lbs. each could exert a continuous pull of about 1/10 of their weight or 360 lbs. If it be assumed that the character of the vehicle and the road surface is such that _f_{r}_ + _f_{i}_ + _f_{p}_ + _f_{a}_ = 100 lbs. per gross ton on a level section of road, then the gross load for the team would be 3.6 tons. The same team could for a short time exert an additional pull of three times 360 lbs. or 1080 lbs. For each 1 per cent of grade a pull of 20 lbs. per ton would be required or _f_{g}_ for the 3.6 tons load would be 72 lbs. for each per cent of grade. At that rate, the limiting grade for the team would be fifteen per cent. If, however, the character of the vehicle and the road surface were such that _f_{r}_ + _f_{i}_ + _f_{p}_ + _f_{a}_ = 60 lbs. per gross ton on a level section of road, the gross load for the team on the level would be 6 tons, and the limiting grade 9 per cent. The above discussion serves to illustrate the desirability of adopting a low ruling or limiting grade for roads to be surfaced with a material having low tractive resistance and the poor economy of adopting a low ruling grade for earth roads or roads to be surfaced with material of high tractive resistance. It may be questioned whether horse drawn traffic should be the limiting consideration for main trunk line highways, but it is certain that for a number of years horse drawn traffic will be a factor on secondary roads. In the case of motor vehicles, excess power is provided by means of gears and no difficulty is encountered in moving vehicles over grades up to 12 or 15 per cent, so that any grade that would ordinarily be tolerated on a main highway will present no obstacle to motor vehicles, but the economy of such design is yet to be investigated. =Energy Loss on Account of Grades.=--Whether a vehicle is horse drawn or motor driven, energy has been expended in moving it up a hill. A part of this energy has been required to overcome the various resistances other than grade, and that has been dissipated, but the energy required to translate the vehicle against the resistance due to grade has been transformed into potential energy and can be partially or wholly recovered when the vehicle descends a grade, provided the physical conditions permit its utilization. If the grade is so steep as to cause the vehicle to accelerate rapidly, the brakes must be applied and loss of energy results. The coasting grade is dependent upon the character of the surface and the nature of the vehicle. In the cases discussed in the preceding paragraph, the coasting grades would be five per cent and three per cent respectively. For horse drawn vehicles then the economical grades would be three and five per cent, which again emphasizes the necessity of lower grades on roads that are surfaced than on roads with no wearing surface other than the natural soil. The theory of grades is somewhat different when motor vehicles are considered, since it is allowable to permit considerably higher speed than with horse drawn vehicles before applying the brakes and the effect of grade can be utilized not only in translating the vehicle down the grade, but also in overcoming resistances due to mechanical friction and the air. On long grades, a speed might be attained that would require the use of the brake or the same condition might apply on very steep short grades. There is at present insufficient data on the tractive resistance and air resistance with motor vehicles to permit the establishing of rules relative to grade, but experience indicates a few general principles that may be accepted. If a hill is of such rate of grade and of such length that it is not necessary to use the brake it may be assumed that no energy loss results so far as motor vehicles are concerned. Where there is no turn at the bottom of the hill and the physical condition of the road permits speeds up to thirty-five or forty miles per hour grades of five per cent are permissible if the length does not exceed five hundred feet and grades of three per cent one thousand feet long are allowable. It is a rather settled conviction among highway engineers that on trunk line highways the maximum grade should be six per cent, unless a very large amount of grading is necessary to reach that grade. =Undulating Roads.=--Many hills exist upon highways, the grade of which is much below the maximum permissible. If there are grades ranging from 0 to 4 per cent, with a few hills upon which it is impracticable to reach a grade of less than six per cent, it is questionable economy to reduce the grades that are already lower than the allowable maximum. It is especially unjustifiable to incur expense in reducing a grade from two per cent to one and one-half per cent on a road upon which there are also grades in excess of that amount. The undulating road is not uneconomical unless the grades are above the allowable maximum or are exceptionally long or the alignment follows short radius curves. =Safety Considerations.=--On hills it is especially desirable to provide for safety and curves on hills are always more dangerous than on level sections of road. Therefore, it is desirable to provide as flat grades as possible at the curves and to cut away the berm at the side of the road so as to give a view ahead for about three hundred feet. Whether a road be level or on a hill, safety should always be considered and the most important safety precaution is to provide a clear view ahead for a sufficient distance to enable motor vehicle drivers to avoid accidents. [Illustration: Fig. 9.--Types of Guard Rails] =Guard Railing.=--When a section of road is on an embankment, guard rails are provided at the top of the side slope to serve as warnings of danger, and to prevent vehicles from actually going over the embankment in case of skidding, or if for any reason the driver loses control. These are usually strongly built, but would hardly restrain a vehicle which struck at high speed. But they are adequate for the protection of a driver who uses reasonable care. A typical guard rail is shown in Fig. 9, but many other designs of similar nature are employed. At very dangerous turns a solid plank wall six or eight feet high is sometimes built of such substantial construction as to withstand the severest shock without being displaced. Trees, shrubs and the berms at the side of the road in cuts are particularly likely to obstruct the view and should be cleared or cut back so far as is necessary to provide the proper sight distance. =Width of Roadway.=--For roads carrying mixed traffic, 9 feet of width is needed for a single line of vehicles and 18 feet for 2 lines of vehicles. In accordance with the above, secondary roads, carrying perhaps 25 to 50 vehicles per day, may have an available traveled way 18 feet wide. Those more heavily traveled may require room for three vehicles to pass at any place and therefore have an available traveled way 30 feet wide. Greater width is seldom required on rural highways, and 20 feet is the prevailing width for main highways. =Cross Section.=--The cross section of the road is designed to give the required width of traveled way, and, in addition, provide the drainage channels that may be needed. In regions of small rainfall the side ditches will be of small capacity or may be entirely omitted, but usually some ditch is provided. The transition from the traveled way to ditch should be a gradual slope so as to avoid the danger incident to abrupt change in the shape of the cross section. The depth of ditch may be varied without changing to width or slope of the traveled part of the road as shown in Fig. 10. [Illustration: Fig. 10] =Control of Erosion.=--The construction of a highway may be utilized to control general erosion to some extent, particularly when public highways exist every mile or two and are laid out on a gridiron system, as is the case in many of the prairie states. The streams cross the highways at frequent intervals and the culverts can be placed so as effectually to prevent an increase in depth of the stream. This will to some extent limit the erosion above the culvert and if such culverts are built every mile or two along the stream, considerable effect is produced. Where small streams have their origin a short distance from a culvert under which they pass, it is sometimes advisable to provide tile for carrying the water under the road, instead of the culvert, and, by continuing the tile into the drainage area of the culvert, eliminate the flow of surface water and reclaim considerable areas of land. Erosion in the ditches along a highway can be prevented by constructing weirs across the ditch at frequent intervals, thus effectually preventing an increase in the depth of the ditch. Wherever water flows at a velocity sufficient to produce erosion or where the drainage channel changes abruptly from a higher to a lower level, paved gutters, tile or pipe channels should be employed to prevent erosion. =Private Entrances.=--Entrance to private property along the highway is by means of driveways leading off the main road. These should always be provided for in the design so as to insure easy and convenient access to the property. The driveways will usually cross the side ditch along the road and culverts will be required to carry the water under the driveway. Driveways that cross a gutter by means of a pavement in the gutter are usually unsatisfactory, and to cross the gutter without providing a pavement is to insure stoppage of the flow at the crossing. The culvert at a driveway entrance must be large enough to take the ditch water readily or it will divert the water to the roadway itself. Generally end walls on such culverts are not required as in the case of culverts across a highway. =Aesthetics.=--Much of the traffic on the public highways is for pleasure and relaxation and anything that tends to increase the attractiveness of the highways is to be encouraged. Usually the roadside is a mass of bloom in the fall, goldenrod, asters and other hardy annuals being especially beautiful. In some states wild roses and other low bushes are planted to serve the two-fold purpose of assisting to prevent erosion and to beautify the roadside. In humid areas trees of any considerable size shade the road surface and are a distinct disadvantage to roads surfaced with the less durable materials such as sand-clay or gravel. It is doubtful if the same is true of paved surfaces, but the trees should be far enough back from the traveled way to afford a clear view ahead. Shrubs are not objectionable from any view-point and are to be encouraged for their beauty, so long as they do not obstruct the view at turns. CHAPTER V EARTH ROADS Highways constructed without the addition of surfacing material to the natural soil of the right-of-way are usually called earth roads. But if the natural soil exhibits peculiar characteristics or is of a distinct type, the road may be referred to by some distinctive name indicating that fact. Hence, roads are referred to as clay, gumbo, sandy or caliche roads as local custom may elect. In each case, however, the wearing surface consists of the natural soil, which may have been shaped and smoothed for traffic or may be in its natural state except for a trackway formed by the vehicles that have used it. =Variations in Soils.=--The nature of the existing soil will obviously determine the serviceability and physical characteristics of the road surface it affords. That is to say that even under the most favorable conditions some earth roads will be much more serviceable than others, due to the better stability of the natural soil. Some soils are dense and somewhat tough when dry and therefore resist to a degree the tendency of vehicles to grind away the particles and dissipate them in the form of dust. Such soils retain a reasonably smooth trackway in dry weather even when subjected to considerable traffic. Other soils do not possess the inherent tenacity and stability to enable them to resist the action of wheels and consequently grind away rapidly. Roads on such soils become very dusty. These are the extremes and between them are many types of soils or mixtures of soils possessing varying degrees of stability, and, in consequence, differing rates of wear. Similarly the various soils exhibit different degrees of stability when wet. It is to be expected that soils will differ with the geographical location, for it is well known that there is a great variation in soils in the various parts of the world. But wide differences are also encountered in the soil on roads very near each other and even on successive stretches of the same road. It is for this reason that earth roads often exhibit great differences in serviceability even in a restricted area. =Variation in Rainfall.=--The stability of a soil and its ability to support the weight of vehicles varies greatly with the amount of water in the soil. A certain small amount of moisture in the soil is beneficial in that practically every soil compacts more readily when moist than when dry because the moisture aids in binding together the particles. But most soils also become unstable when the amount of water present is in excess of that small amount referred to above and the stability decreases very rapidly as the amount of water in the soil increases. The serviceability of an earth road will change continually as the moisture content of the soil changes and consequently the general utility of the earth road system in any locality is dependent to a considerable extent upon the amount and seasonal distribution of precipitation. The methods of maintaining earth roads appropriate to any locality must of necessity be adapted to the climatic conditions, and the amount of work required to give the highest possible degree of serviceability will be exceedingly variable from season to season and from place to place. In regions of great humidity, earth roads may be expected to have a low average of serviceability, while in arid regions they may possess sufficient durability for a considerable volume of traffic. The design adopted for earth roads and the methods of maintenance followed should therefore be carefully evolved to meet the soil and climate conditions where the roads are located. These will differ greatly throughout a state or even a county. =Cross Sections.=--The general principles of road design were set forth in Chapter IV. In Fig. 11 are shown typical cross sections for earth roads adapted to various conditions as indicated. It is not apparent that one form of ditch is particularly preferable to the other and since some engineers prefer the V section and others the trapezoidal section both are shown. It would appear that the V shaped ditch is somewhat the easier to construct with the blade grader while the trapezoidal is readily excavated with the slip or fresno scraper. The ditch capacity required and consequently the dimensions will depend upon the drainage requirements, as was pointed out in Chapter III. [Illustration: Fig. 11. Cross Section for Earth Roads] EARTH ROADS IN REGIONS OF CONSIDERABLE RAINFALL In the zones where the annual precipitation exceeds 30 inches distributed over several months, earth roads will be unserviceable for a considerable period each year unless they are constructed so as to minimize the effect of water. This is done by providing for the best possible drainage and by adopting a method of maintenance that will restore the surface to a smooth condition as quickly as possible after a period of rainy weather or after the "frost comes out" in the spring. Before the construction of the desired cross section is undertaken, all of the grade reduction should be completed, except for minor cuts which can be handled with the elevating grader in the manner that will be described presently. Where any considerable change in grade is to be effected, the earth can be moved in several ways and of these the most economical cannot be readily determined. Ordinarily a contractor or a county will use the equipment that happens to be at hand even though some other might be more advantageous. =Elevating Grader.=--Where the topography is such as to permit its use, the elevating grader is employed in grade reduction to load the earth into dump wagons in which it is hauled to the fill or waste bank. The elevating grader consists essentially of a heavy shear plow or disc plow which loosens the earth and deposits it on a moving canvas apron. The apron carries the material up an incline and deposits it into a wagon which is driven along under the end of the apron. When the wagon is loaded, the grader is stopped while the loaded wagon is hauled out and an empty one drawn into position. The motive power for the elevating grader is either a tractor or five or six teams of mules. For many kinds of work, particularly where frequent turning is necessary or where the ground is yielding, mules are preferable to a tractor. The apron is operated by gearing from the rear wheels of the grader. Generally four mules are hitched to a pusher in the rear of the grader and six or eight in the lead. This method of grade reduction is particularly advantageous when the material must be hauled a distance of 500 yards or more, because wagon hauling in such cases is the most economical method to employ. A tractor may be used to draw the elevating grader and one having a commercial rating of 30 to 45 horsepower is required. =Maney Grader.=--If the haul is long and the nature of the cut will not permit the use of the elevating grader because of excessive grades or lack of room for turning, a grader of the Maney type may be used. This consists of a scoop of about one cubic yard capacity, suspended from a four-wheel wagon gear. When loading, the scoop is let down and filled in the same manner as a two-wheeled scraper or "wheeler." The pull required to fill a Maney grader is so great that a tractor is ordinarily employed in place of a "snap" team. The tractor is hitched at the end of the tongue, without interfering with the team drawing the grader. One team readily handles the grader after it is loaded. For this service a tractor having a commercial rationing of 25 to 30 horsepower is required. =Wheel Scraper.=--For moving earth for distances between 150 and 500 yards, the wheel scraper of a capacity of about 1-1/2 yards is quite generally employed. The soil must be loosened with a plow before it can conveniently be loaded into the wheeler and a heavy plow is ordinarily employed for that purpose. Two furrows with the plow will loosen a strip of earth about as wide as the scoop of the scraper and if more is loosened it will be packed down by the scrapers wheeling in place to load. A helper or "snap" team is employed to assist in loading, after which the wheel scraper is handled by one team. =Slip Scraper.=--The slip scraper differs from the wheel scraper in that the scoop is not suspended from wheels but is dragged along the ground. It is drawn by one team and the capacity is two to five cubic feet, but the material spills out to some extent as the scraper is dragged along and the method is not suitable for long hauls, 100 feet being about the economical limit. =Fresno Scraper.=--The Fresno scraper is one form of slip scraper requiring four horses or mules for efficient work. It differs somewhat from the ordinary slip scraper in shape and is of larger capacity, but is a drag type of scraper much favored in the western states. SHAPING TO PROPER CROSS SECTION If a road has been graded so that the profile is satisfactory or if the existing profile of the location is satisfactory, and the surface is to be shaped to a prescribed cross section, either the elevating grader or the blade grader may be employed. =Elevating Grader Work.=--If the elevating grader is used in shaping the earth road, the apron will be lowered and the material will be excavated at the sides of the road and deposited on the middle portion. If slight changes in grade are desired, wagons will accompany the grader and catch under the apron at the high places and haul the material to the low places. After the earth has been deposited it must be worked over to secure the correct cross section and be made passable for vehicles. This requires that clods be broken, weeds and grass that are mixed with the earth be removed by harrowing and forking and that the surface be carefully smoothed with a blade grader. This latter operation will have to be repeated several times before a satisfactory surface is secured. But this miscellaneous work is highly important and under no circumstances ought to be neglected. Nothing so detracts from an otherwise creditable piece of work as failure to provide a smooth surface for the use of vehicles. It is especially uncomfortable for the users of a highway if sods and weeds in quantity are left in the road after it has been graded. The humus that will be left in the soil as the vegetable matter decays increases the porosity of the road surface making it more absorbent than soil without humus. This increases the susceptibility to softening from storm water or ground water. The tractor can advantageously be used to draw the elevating grader on this class of work, but will be greatly handicapped if there are wet sections along the road, through which the tractor must be driven. In many cases its use is prohibited by such conditions and for all-round service of this character, mules are preferred for motive power. [Illustration: Fig. 12.--Tractor-grader Outfit] =Use of Blade Grader.=--Heavy blade graders designed to be drawn by a tractor are suitable for shaping the earth road. Some of these have blades 12 feet long and excellent control for regulating the depth of cutting. Often two such graders are operated tandem. These machines have a device which permits the operator to steer the grader independently of the tractor. Thus the grader can be steered off to the side to cut out the ditches, while the tractor continues to travel on the firm part of the road. Earth moved with the blade grader is usually fairly free from large lumps and can readily be smoothed to a satisfactory surface for the use of traffic. The sods and weeds will be drawn into the road along with the earth just as they are when the elevating grader is employed. Precaution must therefore be taken to eliminate them before the vegetable matter decays, and to smooth the surface for the use of traffic. =Costs.=--The cost of shaping an earth road in the manner described above will vary through rather wide limits because the nature and amount of work to be done varies so greatly. Some roads can be graded satisfactorily for $300.00 per mile, while others will cost $700.00. But $425.00 per mile may be taken as an average for blade or elevating grader work plus a moderate amount of grade reduction in the way of removing slight knolls. For the amount of grade reduction necessary in rolling country, followed by grader shaping, $1000.00 to $1800.00 per mile will be required. The method is not adapted to rolling country where the roads are undulating and require some grade reduction on every hill. For hilly roads one of the methods described for grade reduction will be required and the cost will obviously depend upon the amount of earth moved. Averages of cost figures mean nothing in such cases as the cost may reach $10,000.00 per mile, or may be as low as $2000.00 per mile. =Maintenance.=--Regardless of the care with which an earth road has been graded, it will be yielding and will readily absorb water for a long time after the completion of the work. The condition of the surface will naturally deteriorate rapidly during the first season it is used unless the road receives the constant maintenance that is a prerequisite to satisfactory serviceability. The road drag is generally recommended for this purpose, and if a drag is properly used it will serve to restore the shape of the surface as fast as it is destroyed by traffic. Good results with the drag depend upon choosing the proper time to drag and upon doing the work in the right way when using the drag. The best time to drag is as soon after a rain as the road has dried out enough to pack under traffic. If the work is done while the road is too wet, the first vehicles traveling the road after it has been dragged will make ruts and to a considerable extent offset the good done by the drag. If the road is too dry, the drag will not smooth the irregularities. A little observation will be required to determine the proper time for dragging on any particular soil, but usually after a rain or thaw there is a period lasting a day or two when conditions are about right. [Illustration: Fig. 13.--Road Drag] The drag is used merely to restore the shape of the surface and to do so a small amount of material is drawn toward the middle of the road. But there must not be a ridge of loose material left in the middle after the work is completed. Some patrolmen start at one side of the road and gradually work across the road on successive trips, finally finishing up at the side opposite that at which the start was made. The next dragging should start on the opposite side from the first if that method is followed. By shifting his weight on the drag, the operator can adjust the cutting edge so that very little loose material is moved crosswise of the road and that is the proper method to pursue. In that case no ridge will remain at the middle of the road. If a slight one is left it should be removed by a final trip with the drag. In addition to the dragging, weeds must be cut along the road about twice a year, the ditches must be kept cleaned out and culverts open. All of the maintenance for 10 miles of earth road can be accomplished by one man giving his entire time to the work, and that is the only method that has proven adequate to the problem. EARTH ROADS IN ARID REGIONS In areas where the rainfall is less than 18 inches per year, and especially where it is 10 inches or less, an entirely different road problem exists. The effect of precipitation is of significance primarily from the standpoint of erosion, and the design of cross section and ditches and the culvert provisions are entirely different from those necessary in humid regions. Frequently the rainfall in semi-arid regions will be seasonal and provision must be made to care for a large volume of water during the rainy season, but, in general, road design is adapted to prevention of erosion rather than to elimination of ground water effects, or the softening effects of surface water. Generally the rainy period does not last long enough to warrant expensive construction to eliminate its general effects. In fact, the saturation of the soil is more likely to be a benefit than otherwise. Earth roads are likely to be satisfactory except where the traffic is sufficient to grind the surface into dust to such an extent that an excessive dust layer is produced. In such locations the problem is one of providing a durable surface unaffected by long continued dry weather. Grade reduction will have the same importance as in humid areas and will be carried out in the same way. Maintenance will consist in repairing the damage from occasional floods and in removing or preventing accumulations of drifting sand or dust. Crude petroleum oils have been satisfactory for maintenance in such locations when used on stable soils. =Value of Earth Roads.=--The serviceability of the earth road depends to a large extent upon the care exercised in its maintenance. The only part of earth road construction that is permanent is the grade reduction. The cross section that is so carefully shaped at considerable cost may flatten out in one or two years, especially if the road goes through unusually wet periods. Traffic will continually seek a new track during the period when the road is muddy and is as likely to cross the ditch to the sod near the fence as to use any other part of the road. Continual and persistent maintenance is therefore essential to even reasonable serviceability. At best the earth road will be a poor facility for a considerable period each year in the regions of year-around rainfall. In most localities, roads of distinctly minor importance are of necessity only earth roads and for the comparatively small territory they serve and the small amount of traffic, they probably serve the purpose. For roads of any importance in the humid areas of the United States, the earth road cannot carry satisfactorily the traffic of a prosperous and busy community. CHAPTER VI SAND-CLAY AND GRAVEL ROADS In Chapter IV, mention was made of the variation in serviceability of road surfaces composed of the natural soil existing on the right-of-way of the road. It has been found that soils of a clayey nature in which there is a considerable percentage of sand usually afford a serviceable road surface for light or moderate traffic, especially in areas where climatic conditions are favorable. A study of these soils, together with the construction of experimental roads of various mixtures of sand and clay, has led to a fairly comprehensive understanding of the principles of construction and range of capacity of this type of road surface, which is known as the sand-clay road. The sand-clay road surface consists of a natural or artificial mixture of sand and clay, in which the amount of clay is somewhat greater than sufficient to fill the voids in the dry sand. It may be assumed that the sand contains 40 per cent of voids and that at least 45 per cent of clay is required to fill the voids and bind the sand grains together, because the clay spreads the sand grains apart during the mixing, thus having the effect of increasing the voids. As a matter of experiment, it is found to be impractical to secure by available construction methods mixtures of sufficient uniformity to render it necessary to exercise great exactness in proportioning the components, but reasonable care in proportioning the materials is desirable. Successful utilization of this type of surface requires considerable study of available materials and investigations of their behavior when combined. Extensive and exhaustive experiments have been conducted with sand-clay mixtures in various places where they are widely used for road surfaces and the following general principles have been deduced. =The Binder.=--In the sand-clay road, stability is obtained by utilizing the bonding properties possessed to some degree by all soils. Naturally this characteristic may be expected to vary widely with the several types of soil. It is generally considered to be a common property of clay, but the term clay is a general one that is often applied to soils differing greatly in physical characteristics and the term therefore loses its significance in this connection. Those soils that are properly and technically called clay are decidedly sticky when wet and are the best materials for sand-clay construction. Of the clays, those that produce a tough sticky mud are best. This can be tested by mixing a small quantity into a stiff mud and molding it into a ball and immersing in water. If the ball retains its shape for some little time, it is likely to prove a very satisfactory binder, but, if it becomes plastic and loses its shape, it will be an inferior binder, as a general rule. The ball clay, as the former is called, may be of any color common to soils, not necessarily yellow or reddish as is sometimes supposed. Likewise, balls of mixtures containing varying percentages of sand and the binder to be used may be made up and immersed in water. The mixture that holds its shape longest is of course the best combination of the materials and indicates the mixture to use in the construction. An ideal, or even a fairly satisfactory soil for a binder may not exist in the vicinity of a proposed improvement, and consequently an inferior binder is frequently the only material available. Sometimes deposits of clay or gravel contain a considerable percentage of gypsum which serves as a binder and is particularly effective when used in combination with clay and sand or gravel. In many places a soil of the type used for adobe and called "caliche" may be found and this is an excellent binder for sand or gravel. =Top-Soil or Natural Mixtures.=--Deposits consisting of a natural mixture of sand and clay in which the ingredients happen to exist in about the correct relative proportions for sand-clay road surfaces are found in many localities. These mixtures are commonly referred to as top-soil. If the deposits are somewhat deficient either in sand or clay, they can be utilized if the proper corrections in the proportions are made during construction. Very satisfactory road surfaces are sometimes constructed with mixtures that appear to be far from ideal in composition, but experience and frequent trials are needed to determine the best way in which to handle these mixtures. =Sand-Clay Surfaces on Sandy Roads.=--Sand-clay surfaces may be constructed on naturally sandy roads either by adding clay and mixing it with the sand to secure the desired composition, or a layer of a natural sand-clay mixture, caliche or sand-clay-gypsum may be placed on top of the sand. The most widely used method is to mix clay or other binder with the sand. Since there is no need to provide for ditches to carry storm water on a deep sand soil, the sand is graded off nearly flat across the road and no ditches are provided. The clay is dumped on the road in a layer about 8 inches thick and is then mixed into the sand. It is desired to mix enough sand with the clay to produce a mixture composed of approximately 1/3 clay and 2/3 sand. The mixing is accomplished in various ways, the most common being to use a heavy plow at first and to follow this with a heavy disc harrow. The mixing is a tedious and disagreeable process, but its thorough accomplishment is indispensable. The mixing is most readily done when the materials are saturated with water and in practice it is customary to depend upon rain for the water, although in the final stages water may be hauled and sprinkled on the road to facilitate final completion of the mixing. After the mixing has been completed, the surface is smoothed with the blade grader and is kept smooth until it dries out. Repeated dragging will be required, during the first year especially, and to some extent each year in order to keep the surface smooth, but the dragging can be successfully accomplished only when the road is wet. [Illustration: Fig. 14.--Cross Sections for Sand-Clay Roads] In regions where several months of continued hot, dry weather is to be expected each year, the sand-clay mixture is likely to break through unless it is of considerable thickness and generally the surface layer is made much thicker than for regions where the annual rainfall is fairly well distributed. This is especially necessary when the binder is of inferior quality. It is not uncommon in such cases to make the sand-clay surface as much as two feet thick. As the mixing progresses it may appear that patches here and there are deficient in either clay or sand and the mixture in these places is corrected by the addition of a little sand or clay as may be required. If the top-soil is used it is deposited on the sand in the required quantity and is remixed in place to insure uniformity. If either sand or clay is needed to give a satisfactory mixture, the proper material is added and mixed in as the work progresses. The surface is finally smoothed by means of the grader and drag. =Sand-Clay on Clay or Loam.=--If the existing road is of clay or loam, ample drainage will be required as discussed in Chapter IV. The surface may be constructed of a natural sand-clay mixture or of a sand mixed with the natural soil. If the former, the surface of the existing road is prepared by grading so as to insure good drainage and the natural mixture is then deposited and the surface completed as described in the preceding section. If the surface is formed by mixing sand with the existing soil, the sands may be deposited in a layer about six inches thick which will gradually mix with the soil as the road is used. A second application of sand may follow in a year or two if it is needed. Such a road surface will lack uniformity of composition and it seems preferable to mix the sand with the soil by plowing and discing as previously described. =Characteristics.=--Sand-clay road surfaces do not have sufficient durability for heavily traveled highways, but will be satisfactory for a moderate amount of traffic. These surfaces have maximum serviceability when moist, not wet, and consequently are not as durable in dry climates as in humid areas. They are likely to become sticky and unstable in continued wet weather and to become friable and wear into chuck holes in long continued dry weather. At their best, they are dustless, somewhat resilient and of low tractive resistance. GRAVEL ROAD SURFACES [Illustration: Fig. 15.--Cross Sections for Gravel Highways] =Natural Gravel.=--Gravel is the name given to a material consisting of a mixture of more or less rounded stones, sand and earthy material, which is found in natural deposits. These deposits exist in almost every part of North America, being especially numerous in the glaciated areas, but by no means confined to them. Gravel deposits consist of pieces of rock varying in size from those of a cubic yard or more in volume to the finest stone dust, but with pieces ranging in size from that which will pass a 3-inch ring down to fine sand predominating. The larger pieces are usually more or less rounded and the finer particles may be rounded or may be angular. Many varieties of rocks are to be found among the gravel pebbles, but the rocks of igneous origin and possessing a considerable degree of hardness generally predominate. Intermixed with the pieces of rock there is likely to be clay or other soil, the quantity varying greatly in different deposits and even in various places in the same deposits. Often there are found deposits of material which are by the layman termed gravel, which are really clayey sand or sand containing a few pebbles, but which are of value to the road builder for the sand clay type of surfacing. The term gravel is exceedingly general and unless specifically defined, gives little indication of the exact nature of to which it is applied. TABLE 7 SHOWING CEMENTING PROPERTIES OF SEVERAL SAMPLES OF GRAVEL -----------------+---------------------------- | Cementing Value Per Cent Clay by +---------------+------------ Weight | As Received | Washed -----------------+---------------+------------ 4.4 | 276 | 43 6.4 | 105 | 285 5.1 | 241 | 70 14.5 | 500 | 279 8.5 | 500 | 112 10.1 | 300 | 267 14.8 | 500 | 107 7.5 | 184 | 198 16.5 | 500 | 428 2.0 | 185 | 239 1.5 | 500 | 500 4.5 | 212 | 204 2.5 | 116 | 363 -----------------+---------------+------------ The value of any gravel for road surfacing depends upon the degree to which it possesses the properties of an ideal gravel for road surfacing. Ideal gravel is seldom encountered, but a consideration of its characteristics serves to establish a measure by which to estimate the probable value of any deposit. =The Ideal Road Gravel.=--The ideal road gravel is a mixture of pebbles, sand and earthy material, the pieces varying from coarse to fine in such a manner that when the gravel is compacted into a road surface the spaces between the larger pebbles are filled with the finer material. The pebbles are of a variety of rock that is highly resistant to wear so that the road surface made from the gravel will have the quality of durability. The gravel possesses good cementing properties, insuring that the pieces will hold together in the road surface. The cementing property may be due to the rock powder in the deposit or to earthy material mixed with the rock particles, or to both. Table 7 shows the results of a number of tests made upon gravels and indicates that the cementing property of the gravel does not always depend upon the clay content. =Permissible Size of Pebbles.=--The larger pebbles in the gravel are less likely to crush under loads than smaller pebbles of the same sort of rock, but if the rock is of some of the tougher varieties such as trap, there is very little likelihood of even the smaller pebbles crushing. If the pebbles are of rock of medium toughness, the smaller pebbles might be crushed under the heavier loads. It is the usual practice to permit gravel to be used for the foundation course in which the pebbles are as large as will pass a 3-1/2-inch circular screen opening, and for the wearing course, as large as will pass a 2-1/2-inch circular screen opening. If larger pebbles are allowed in the wearing course, the surface is certain to become rough after a time. If the gravel is to be placed in a single course as is a very common practice, then the maximum size should not exceed that which will pass a 2-1/2-inch circular screen opening. The Wisconsin Highway Commission has constructed a very large mileage of excellent gravel roads and the sizes specified for their roads are as follows: "_Bottom Course Gravel_.--Bottom course shall consist of a mixture of gravel, sand and clay with the proportions and various sizes as follows: "All to pass a two-inch screen and to have at least sixty and not more than seventy-five per cent retained on a quarter-inch screen; at least twenty-five and not more than seventy-five per cent of the total coarse aggregate to be retained on a one-inch screen; at least sixty-five and not more than eighty-five per cent of the total fine aggregate to be retained on a two hundred-mesh sieve." "_Top Course Gravel_.--Top course shall consist of a mixture of gravel, sand and clay with the proportions of the various sizes as follows: "All to pass a one-inch screen and to have at least fifty and not more than seventy-five per cent retained on a quarter-inch screen; at least twenty-five and not more than seventy-five per cent of the total coarse aggregate (material over one-fourth inch in size) to be retained on a one-half-inch screen; at least sixty-five and not more than eighty-five per cent of the total fine aggregate (material under one-fourth inch in size) to be retained on a two hundred-mesh sieve." "_Screened Gravel and Sand Mixtures_.--Where it is impossible to obtain run of bank gravel containing the necessary binder in its natural state, screened gravel shall be used and the necessary sand and clay binder added as directed by the engineer. Gravel and sand shall be delivered on the work separately. Clay binder shall be obtained from approved pits and added as directed by the engineer." "_Run of Bank Gravel_.--When run of bank gravel is permitted either for one course or two course work, the size shall not exceed that specified for bottom or top course. If necessary, the contractor shall pass all the material through a two-inch screen for the bottom course, and through a one-inch screen for the top course. When the work consists of only one course, the material shall be of the sizes as specified for the top course. The necessary binder shall be contained in the material in its natural state, excepting that a small percentage of clay binder may be added as directed by the Engineer." =Wearing Properties.=--A certain amount of grinding action takes place on the road surface under the direct action of wheels, especially those with steel tires. Where rubber tired traffic predominates, this action is much less severe than where steel tired vehicles predominate, but the tendency exists on all roads. In addition, there is distortion of the layer of gravel under heavy loads which causes the pieces of stone in the surface to rub against each other and to wear away slowly. The gravel road in the very best condition is slightly uneven but there is comparatively little jar imparted to vehicles, and, consequently, little impact on the surface. When somewhat worn, the impact becomes a factor of some importance and the pounding of vehicles has a very destructive action on the surface. Soft pebbles will be reduced to dust in a comparatively short time. The degree to which any gravel resists the destructive action of traffic depends upon the varieties of rock represented by the pebbles in the gravel. If the pebbles are mostly from rocks of good wearing properties, that quality will be imparted to the road surface. If mostly from rocks of little durability, the same characteristic will be imparted to the road surface. A very good general notion of the probable durability of gravel can therefore be obtained by a careful visual examination of the material and classification of the rock varieties represented by the pebbles. =Utilizing Natural Gravels.=--Gravel road construction is advantageous only when it can be accomplished at low first cost. This usually presupposes a local supply of gravel that can be utilized, or at any rate a supply that need not be shipped a long distance. In the nature of things, such deposits are likely to be deficient in some of the desirable characteristics, and may be deficient in most of them. By various means, the defects in the materials can be partially corrected while constructing the road. If the gravel deposit consists of layers of varying composition as regards size and clay content, the material may be loosened from the exposed face and allowed to fall to the bottom of the pit thereby becoming mixed to a sufficient extent to produce a reasonably uniform product. If deficient in clay, it often proves feasible to add a small part of the clay over-burden, thereby insuring enough binder. Sometimes adjoining deposits will consist one of relatively fine material, the other of relatively coarse. These may be mixed on the work by first placing the coarse material in a layer about 5 inches thick and adding the finer material in a similar layer. The two will mix very rapidly during the operations of spreading and shaping. When deposits contain pebbles larger than will pass a 3-1/2-inch ring, these larger stones will prove to be undesirable if placed on the road, as they are almost sure to work to the surface of the gravel layer and become a source of annoyance to the users of the road. Oversize stone can be removed while loading the gravel or while spreading it, if care is exercised and not too large a proportion is oversize. It is preferable however to remove the oversize by means of screens at the pit. Usually on large jobs the oversize is crushed and mixed with the supply so as to utilize what is really the best part of the material. Gravels deficient in bonding material are often encountered in deposits where there is insufficient overburden to give enough additional binder or where the overburden is of a material unsuitable for binder. Such materials may be utilized by adding binder in the form of clay after the gravel has been placed on the road. Almost any gravel deposit can be utilized in some way if the material is of a durable nature, regardless of other characteristics. The serviceability of a gravel road will depend largely on how nearly the gravel approaches the ideal, but variations in the manipulations will do much to overcome deficiencies in materials. =Thickness of Layer.=--The thickness of the layer of gravel required depends both upon the type of soil upon which it is placed and the nature of the traffic to which the road will be subjected. Gravel surfaces should not ordinarily be constructed on highways carrying heavy truck traffic, but if gross loads of three or four tons are the heaviest anticipated, the gravel will be reasonably stable. On such roads, a layer of well compacted gravel ten inches thick will support the loads if a well drained earth foundation is provided. If but little truck traffic is anticipated and loads up to three tons on steel tires are the average, a layer 8 inches thick will be sufficient. In dry climates, a layer six inches thick will be adequate if it can be kept from raveling. On secondary roads, carrying principally farm-to-market traffic, and not a great volume of that, the above thicknesses may be reduced about one-fourth. The exact thickness needed for any particular road is a matter for special study on account of the variations in the gravels and in the supporting power of the soil upon which they are placed. PLACING GRAVEL =Preparation of the Road.=--The roadway that is to be surfaced with gravel is first brought to the desired grade and cross section. It would be advantageous if this could be done a year before the gravel is placed so that no settlement of the earth foundation would occur after the gravel surface is completed. But if that is impractical, the grading may be done just prior to placing the gravel, providing appropriate methods are adopted for securing compacted fills. =Trench Method.=--Two distinct methods of placing the gravel are in general use, known as the trench method and the surface or feather edge method respectively. The method to adopt for any particular road will depend largely on certain conditions that will be explained later. In the trench method, a trench of the proper width and depth for receiving the gravel is excavated in the earth road surface and the gravel is placed therein. The trench is formed by plowing a few furrows and scraping out the loosened earth with a blade grader. The loose material is generally moved out laterally to build up earth berms or "shoulders" alongside the gravel. Into this trench the gravel is dumped in the proper quantity to give the required thickness after being compacted. The greatest care must be exercised in spreading the gravel to eliminate unevenness where the loads were deposited. An ordinary blade grader is one of the best and most economical implements to use for spreading the gravel. When the gravel has been deposited in the trench for a distance of a thousand feet or more, the spreading is accomplished by dragging the surface repeatedly with the blade grader, the work being continued until all waviness disappears. The gravel is then thoroughly and repeatedly harrowed with a heavy stiff tooth harrow to mix thoroughly the fine and coarse gravel so as to produce as nearly a uniform mixture as may be. The gravel is then finally smoothed with the blade grader. The gravel may be compacted by rolling or may be allowed to pack from the action of traffic. The former is greatly to be preferred where practicable. The rolling is performed with a three-wheeled self-propelled roller weighing about 8 tons and must be done while the gravel is wet. Generally a sprinkling wagon is used to wet down the gravel, but advantage is always taken of rains to facilitate the work. The gravel must be spread in layers not over 5 or 6 inches thick to get the desired results, which means that for an ordinary gravel road about 10 inches thick, the gravel will be placed in two layers of about equal thickness, each of which will be rolled. The gravel will compact slowly even if it is not rolled, but generally does not become stable until the material is thoroughly soaked by rains. Then it will begin to pack, but will become badly rutted and uneven during the process. During this period the surface must be kept smooth by means of the blade grader. The drag does not suffice for this purpose, tending to accentuate the unevenness rather than to correct it. If gravel is placed in a trench in dense soil and rainy weather ensues, sufficient water will be held in the trench to cause unevenness from foundation settlement and the gravel will become mixed with the soil to some extent and be thereby wasted. Trenches cut from the road bed upon which the gravel is placed, to the side ditches, will relieve this condition by affording an outlet for the surplus water. Nevertheless some difficulty may be expected if the trench method is used and wet weather prevails. If it is possible to close the road against traffic until the road is dry the method is applicable. Moreover, in long-continued dry weather, the dispersion and loss of considerable gravel from the action of automobile traffic is avoided because the gravel is held between substantial earth berms and the gravel will pack better and hold its shape longer when constructed by the trench method than otherwise. =Surface Method.=--The surface method is one in which the gravel is placed on the graded earth road surface without earth shoulders to hold the gravel in place. It is also sometimes called the feather-edge method. Except for the manner of placing as just mentioned, the several operations are conducted in the same general manner as for the trench method. The gravel does not compact as quickly as in the trench method and a considerable loss of material is likely to result from the effect of automobile traffic while the gravel is loose. But it has the advantage of being free from difficulties in wet weather and in some locations is therefore preferable to the trench method. It is particularly applicable to those projects on which the placing of gravel continues throughout the winter, the gravel being dumped and spread, to be finally smoothed and finished in the early summer. =Bonding.=--Where gravels deficient in binder are utilized, clay for binder is sometimes added as the gravel is placed on the road. This may be done by spreading the clay on top of the lower course of gravel, placing the upper layer and sprinkling and rolling until the clay squeezes up through the surface layer. It may also be accomplished by spreading dry clay on the upper course before it is harrowed and then harrowing to mix it with the gravel. Both methods are practiced, but the former is believed to be preferable. A third method is to separate the sand and pebbles and to mix the clay binder with the sand and then spread the sand on top of the pebbles and mix by harrowing. =Maintenance.=--Gravel surfaces require careful maintenance, especially during the first season the road is used. The gravel will compact slowly and during the process will be rutted and otherwise disturbed by traffic. It is important during this period to restore the shape once a week or at least twice a month. The light blade grader is usually employed for the purpose so long as the gravel is somewhat loose. Later a drag of the type known as the planer will prove to be the most effective. Figure 16 shows a type of drag that is very satisfactory for use on gravel roads. [Illustration: Fig. 16.--Road Planer] CHAPTER VII BROKEN STONE ROAD SURFACES The broken stone road surface, or macadam road as it is usually termed, consists of a layer of broken stone, bonded or cemented together by means of stone dust and water. The surface may or may not be coated with some bituminous material. =Design.=--It has been an accepted assumption that the macadam road surface is somewhat more stable than the gravel road surface of equal thickness, and since this is probably the consensus of opinion of engineers familiar with both types, it may be accepted until experimental data are available on the subject. The thickness of the layer of macadam required for a road will depend upon the same factors that were considered in connection with the thickness of the gravel surface, i.e., kind of stone used, character of earth foundation and nature of the traffic. The standard macadam surface where good earth foundation is to be had and where the loads do not exceed about four tons has for years been eight inches thick. For heavier loads or inferior foundation, a somewhat greater thickness would be employed, but the best practice would probably provide a foundation course of the Telford type for doubtful foundation conditions, especially for the extremely uncertain cases. For soils of very good supporting strength such as very sandy loam or deep sand or for arid regions where stable foundation is always assured the thickness of the macadam might be reduced to six inches. It should be borne in mind that the broken stone road is not adapted to the traffic carried by trunk line highways in populous districts, but is rather a type permissible on secondary roads and usually adequate for local roads. It should never be employed for roads carrying any considerable volume of passenger automobile traffic or motor truck traffic. If surfaced with a bituminous material it will carry up to 1200 passenger automobiles per day, but not to exceed fifty trucks. =Properties of the Stone.=--The stone employed for the broken stone road should possess the qualities of hardness and toughness and should be capable of resisting abrasion sufficiently well to have reasonable life under the traffic to which it is subjected. Since the traffic may vary from very light on some roads to far beyond the limit of the economical capacity of this type of pavement on others, it follows that any particular deposit of stone might be durable enough for some roads, while for others it might be entirely inadequate. As a general rule it has been found that stone that wears away at a moderate rate will, when used for water-bound macadam surface, result in a smoother trackway than one that will wear very slowly. It is not therefore altogether certain that the most durable stone to be had should be selected for a particular road. This is especially true now that the water-bound macadam surface has been largely superseded for trunk line highways and other heavily traveled roads, and is employed in locations where service conditions are not severe. The stone employed for the water-bound macadam surface must possess good cementing properties, because the surface depends for stability primarily upon the bonding action of the dust from the broken stone. This is in contrast to the gravel road, where little dependence is placed upon the bonding effect of the rock dust. In preparing the stone for macadam surfaces, the ledge rock is crushed and screened, and in that way a supply of the finer particles, which are a part of the output of the crusher, is obtained for use in bonding the surface. This finely broken material, usually called screenings, is essential to the construction of the water-bound type of surface. Rocks vary considerably in the cementing properties of the dust, but usually the rocks classed as "trap," such as andesite, gabbro and rhyolite, and schist and basalt possess good cementing properties. Limestones usually possess good cementing properties, but some of the dolomitic limestones are of low cementing value. Quartz, sandstone and the granites are of low cementing value. =Kinds of Rocks Used for Macadam.=--Limestone and chert are the two sedimentary rocks, employed most extensively for broken stone roads. These rocks are found in widely distributed areas and vary in physical characteristics from very soft material of no use to the road builder to materials possessing considerable durability. It is desirable to carefully test out the deposits of these materials before using to ascertain the probable value of the rock, for the construction of the road surface. Of the igneous rocks, those classed as trap are best known to the road builder and many of the deposits of trap rock afford an excellent material for broken stone roads where the severest conditions of traffic are encountered. The trap rocks are tough and durable and generally possess excellent cementing properties. Granite and sandstone are seldom used for water-bound macadam as they possess poor cementing properties and a binder of some kind must be added to cement the pieces together. For this purpose clay or the screenings from some other variety of stone may be utilized. Some other materials are occasionally employed for the construction of macadam surfaces. Of these, oyster or marine shells, burnt shale, and slag are most common. Shells and slag are of rather low durability but possess good cementing properties. Shale is a makeshift suitable only for very light traffic roads. =Sizes of Stone.=--The stone for the wearing course of a macadam road should be as large as practicable, because the larger the pieces the more durable the surface. If the individual stones are too large it is difficult to secure a smooth surface, and large stones will be readily loosened by tipping as the wheels roll over them. These considerations limit the size to a maximum of that which will pass a 2-1/2-inch screen. Stone of excellent wearing qualities may be somewhat smaller, but never less than that which will just pass a 1-1/2-inch screen. For the lower course, the size is not particularly important except where the earth foundation is such as to require special construction. It is not uncommon to use the same size of stone for both upper and lower course and yet in many instances stone up to that which will just pass a 3-1/2-inch screen is used for the lower course. Stone much smaller in size may also be used successfully, but if the stone is broken to a smaller size than is required, unnecessary expense is incurred. The bonding material is the finer portion of the product of the crusher, which is called screenings. This material may be so finely crushed as to pass a one-fourth inch screen, or may be so coarse as to just pass a one-half inch screen, but in any case must contain all of the dust and fine material produced by the crusher. Where the soil and drainage conditions demand an especially stable foundation course, the Telford type is used. The Telford foundation consists of a layer of stones of various dimensions that can be laid so as to give a thickness of 8 inches. These large stones are placed by hand and therefore the size requirements are not rigid. Stones having one dimension about 8 inches and the others not over 10 or 12 inches are satisfactory. =Earth Work.=--A thoroughly drained and stable earth foundation is essential to success with the macadam type of surface. Before placing the stone, the road must be shaped to the proper cross section and all grade reduction work completed. Preferably heavy fills should have a year to settle before the macadam surface is placed. Side ditches, necessary culverts and tile drains should be constructed as required for drainage. The earth work is often carried out in connection with the construction of the macadam surface, being completed just ahead of the surfacing. In that case, the fills must be carefully rolled as they are placed. The road bed may be shaped in connection with the other earthwork. If the road has been brought to a satisfactory grade some time prior to placing the macadam, the road bed for the broken stone will be prepared as needed for placing the stone. =Foundation for the Macadam.=--Macadam surfaces are quite generally placed in a trench as described in the trench method for placing gravel. It is an almost universal practice to compact the layer of stone by rolling with an 8- or 10-ton power roller, and if the stone is not held between substantial earth berms or shoulders, the rolling merely serves to spread the stone out over the road bed instead of compacting it. If an attempt is made to roll broken stone which has been placed on a yielding foundation, no benefit results, but on the contrary the stone is likely to be forced down into the soil. To insure that the layer of broken stone can be compacted by rolling, it is first necessary to roll the earth foundation until it becomes hard and unyielding. If soft or yielding places appear during the rolling these should be corrected by tile drains or by removing the earth from the spongy place and back-filling with material that will compact when rolled. It is not always easy to determine why these soft places exist in what appears to be a well drained roadway, especially since they are as likely to be found on fills as anywhere else. Apparently they are due to local pockets of porous soil held by denser soil so that the water does not readily drain away. It is usually true that such places are observed during the season of frequent precipitation more often than during other seasons of the year. In dry climates, the difficulties of securing suitable foundations for the broken stone road are largely eliminated, but it may be observed that this type of surface is not suitable for such climates unless some sort of bituminous binder is employed to hold the stones in place. The cementing power of the stone dust is inadequate when the surface is continually dry. [Illustration: Fig. 17.--Cross Section for Macadam] =Telford Foundation.=--When the Telford type of foundation is employed, the earth subgrade is prepared and then the Telford stone placed carefully by hand. The spaces between the large stones are filled with the spalls broken from the larger stones in fitting them in place. When completed the base is rolled with a heavy roller to secure a firm unyielding layer. The thickness is generally about eight inches. Any fairly sound stone may be used for the Telford base. =Placing the Broken Stone.=--It has been found impracticable properly to roll a greater thickness than about 5 or 6 inches of loose stone, therefore, the stone for the macadam surface is usually placed in two layers, the first or lower layer being rolled before the next layer is placed. The stone is hauled in dump wagons, trucks or dump cars, dumped on the road bed and spread by hand rakes or by means of a blade grader and is then rolled. To insure the proper thickness the loads are accurately spaced to spread to the proper thickness. =Rolling.=--A three-wheeled or "macadam" type of roller, of the self-propelled type, is best for compacting the broken stone road. The weight varies from eight to fifteen tons, but for most conditions the ten or twelve ton size seems to be preferable. On Telford base construction, a heavier machine is desirable and for very hard stone it may be successfully employed. The first trip with the roller is made along the edge of the stone and each successive trip is made a little nearer the middle until finally one half of the strip of stone has been rolled. The roller is then taken to the opposite side of the roadway and the operation repeated on the other half. The rolling is continued until the stone is thoroughly compacted, which is evidenced by the fact that the roller makes but a slight track in the surface. The second layer of stone is then placed and rolled in the same manner as the first. =Spreading Screenings.=--After the upper course has been rolled, the screenings are spread on it from piles alongside the road, enough being used to fill the voids in the layer of stone and furnish a slight excess. As the screenings are spread they are rolled to work them into the voids. When these are filled, the surface is sprinkled thoroughly by means of an ordinary street sprinkling cart and again rolled. In this way the dust and water are mixed into a mortar which fills the crevices between the stones. This mortar hardens in a few days, giving a bond that is weak, but sufficient for the purpose if the traffic is not too heavy. A broken stone road finished in this way is called a water-bound macadam, and is ready for traffic in three or four days after completion. =Bituminous Surfaces.=--On account of the inadequacy of the water-bound macadam when subjected to motor traffic and to obviate the tendency of broken stone surfaces to loosen in dry weather, there has been developed a method of covering the surface with a bituminous material such as tar or asphalt. This will be described in detail in a later chapter. =Maintenance.=--Even under favorable conditions as regards kind and amount of traffic the macadam road requires constant maintenance. The first effect of traffic will be to brush away the fine materials used for bonding the surface, thus exposing the larger stones in such a way that they are rather easily loosened and removed from the surface by wheels and the hoofs of animals. This finer material must be replaced as fast as it is removed so as to protect the surface. Either stone dust or clayey sand may be used, but clay if used alone is likely to be sticky when wet and prove to be worse than the condition it was expected to correct. In time, ruts and depressions will appear, either as the gradual effect of wear, which will inevitably effect some portions of the surface more than others, or on account of subsidence of the foundation. Uneven places are repaired by first loosening the stone, then restoring the cross section by adding new material and tamping or rolling it in place. If a bituminous coating has been applied, it will eventually peel off in places and these places must be recoated as soon as practicable. Eventually the surface will be worn to such an extent that an entirely new wearing surface must be added. This is done by loosening the entire surface to a depth of 3 or 4 inches and then adding a new layer of broken stone. The loosening is sometimes accomplished by means of heavy spikes inserted in the roller wheels, and at others by means of a special tool known as a scarifier. The new surface is placed and rolled in precisely the same manner as the wearing surface of the original construction, but the layer may not be as thick as the original wearing course. A new course will not bond to the old surface unless the old macadam has been thoroughly broken up first. =Characteristics.=--The water-bound macadam is a dusty, somewhat rough surface of low durability for rubber tired vehicles. It has long been the standard rural highway for steel tired vehicles, but cannot carry any considerable amount of motor traffic. It is easily repaired. When finished with a bituminous surface its durability is greatly increased and the dust is eliminated. It does not seem to be sufficiently rigid for truck traffic, unless placed on exceptionally good foundation. CHAPTER VIII CEMENT CONCRETE ROADS The cement concrete road is one of the later developments in highway construction, but the type has had sufficient use to show that it is one of the satisfactory types for heavy mixed traffic, and, where the proper materials are available, it is one of the economical types of construction. =Destructive Agencies.=--It is well to have clearly in mind at the outset that the concrete in a road surface is subjected to certain destructive agencies not usually significant in connection with the use of concrete, and these are so often disregarded that the average serviceability of the concrete road surface is sometimes much lower than it would be if built with due regard for the effect of traffic on concrete surfaces. In most structural uses of concrete, its strength in compression only is utilized, and the factor of safety is such as to eliminate to some extent failures due to inferior materials or workmanship. The concrete road surface is subjected to compression under wheel loads, to bending, causing tension in the concrete, to abrasion from wheels, and to tension and compression due to effect of temperature. The weight of the wheel loads may cause sufficient distortion of the road slab to produce rupture. The aggregates may be crushed under wheel loads if the material is too soft. Abrasion from steel tired vehicles wears away the concrete unless it is hard and durable. Changes in dimension due to the effect of change in temperature introduce tension or compression into the road slab and may result in cracks. Freezing and thawing in the subgrade subjects the slab to vertical movement and discontinuous support with the result that longitudinal and transverse cracks occur. The foregoing indicates the importance of securing good concrete for road surfacing, and that is accomplished by using suitable aggregates, by proper design of the road surface and by following established construction methods. =Design.=--The widths usually adopted for concrete roads are: for single track roads, 9 or 10 feet, and for double track roads, 18 or 20 feet. The thickness is 6 to 8 inches at the middle, varying with climatic conditions and with the kind of soil upon which the concrete is laid. The thickness at the edge is 1 inch less than at the middle except that 6-inch surfaces are usually of uniform thickness, the total crown being 2 inches. The thickness of the two course pavement is the same as would be used for a single course pavement in the same location. The surface of either width has a total crown of one or two inches to insure water running off the surface. The earth foundation is often flat, the crown being obtained by making the slab thicker at the middle than at the edge. Fig. 18 shows cross section for concrete roads. [Illustration: Fig. 18.--Cross Section for Concrete Highway] In the state of California, concrete roads four or five inches thick and surfaced with a bituminous carpet mat have been successfully constructed. Similar designs have been used in a few other places, but for general practice it is unsafe to depend upon such a thin slab. Climatic and soil conditions probably account for the success of the thin roads in California. =Concrete Materials.=--The coarse aggregate for the concrete may be broken stone or pebbles screened from natural gravel. Durability is necessary, but it is also important to have uniformity in the concrete so that the road surface will wear uniformly and consequently keep smooth. Supplies of broken stone are likely to contain a small percentage of soft pieces and such of these as are at the surface when the concrete is finished will crush under traffic, leaving a pit in the surface. Pebbles screened from gravel are also likely to be variable in durability and should be carefully inspected if they are to be used as aggregate for concrete roads. The harder limestones, some sandstones, pebbles from many of the gravel deposits and practically all of the igneous rocks make satisfactory aggregates for the concrete road. Sometimes none of the coarse aggregates readily available are sufficiently durable or uniform for the wearing surface of the concrete road, but a suitable aggregate may be obtained at relatively high price by shipping considerable distances. In such cases what is known as the two course type of concrete road is employed. The wearing course usually is about 2 inches thick and is constructed with selected aggregates of good quality shipped in for the purpose. The lower course is constructed of aggregates which do not possess the desired qualities for a wearing course, but which are satisfactory for concrete not subjected to abrasion. The aggregates for the wearing course will be selected with the same regard for uniformity and durability that would be the case if they were for the one course pavement. Bank run gravel, or run of the crusher stone, is generally not sufficiently uniform as regards proportion of fine and coarse material to produce uniformity in the concrete, and the use of aggregates of that character is not permissible for the wearing course, but under proper inspection they may be used for the lower course of two course pavements. =Fine Aggregate.=--The fine aggregate is generally natural sand, but a mixture of natural sand and stone screenings is sometimes employed. The fine aggregate of whatever character must be clean, free from organic matter and sand, must contain no appreciable amount of mica, feldspar, alkali, shale or similar deleterious substances and not exceed two and one-half per cent of clay and silt. The sand is of such a range of sizes that all will pass the one-fourth-inch sieve and that not exceeding about five per cent will pass the 100-mesh sieve. =Proportions.=--Various mixtures for the concrete are employed because these may properly vary to some extent with the exact character and grading of the aggregates. Experience seems to have shown that the concrete used for the wearing surface should have a crushing strength of at least 2500 pounds per square inch, and the mixture adopted is based on the requirements that will give the desired crushing strength. The common mixture for the one course pavement is one part cement, two parts sand and three and one-half parts coarse aggregate. For the wearing course of the two-course type of pavement, a mixture of the same kind is very often specified. While these are perhaps the most widely adopted proportions, many others have been used, especially where the aggregates exhibit peculiarities or the traffic conditions are unusual. It is desired to emphasize that the purpose is to obtain concrete of the desired strength and there can be no such thing as "standard" proportions. =Measuring Materials.=--In considering the methods employed for measuring aggregates, emphasis should be placed on the futility of rigid requirements for the aggregates, both as regards quality and range of sizes, if the materials are carelessly proportioned at the mixer. If even reasonably near uniform wearing qualities are to be secured throughout the entire area of the concrete road surface, successive batches of concrete must be alike, and to insure that, the aggregates including the water in each batch of concrete must be mixed in exactly the same proportions. The aggregates are measured in various ways, all essentially alike in that the intent is to insure exactly the same amount of each ingredient for each batch of concrete. One method is to place bottomless boxes in wheelbarrows, fill the boxes level full and then lift off the box. Another is to use a wheelbarrow with a bed of such shape that the contents will be a multiple of 1 cubic foot when level full. For the larger jobs, the aggregates are hauled in industrial cars, each having sufficient capacity for a batch of concrete. The car body is provided with a partition so as to separate the fine and coarse material. The water is measured in a tank which automatically refills to the same level each time it is emptied and when adjusted for a mixture will introduce the proper amount of water for each batch. It is highly important to use the least amount of water that will produce workable concrete. =Preparation of the Earth Foundation.=--The concrete road is generally placed directly on the natural soil which has been brought to the proper cross section. Some engineers advocate that in preparing the subgrade, the earth be thoroughly rolled; others prefer not to roll the subgrade. If fills of considerable depth are constructed, they should either be rolled as built or else should be allowed to settle for some months before the concrete road is placed, preferably the latter. =Placing the Concrete.=--The concrete is placed between substantial side forms of a height equal to the thickness of the concrete road slab at the edge, and is shaped roughly by means of shovels. Various methods have been developed for striking the surface to the exact shape desired and smoothing it. If hand finishing methods are employed, a plank template is cut to the prescribed cross section and the concrete is shaped by drawing the template along the side forms. Sometimes the template is used as a tamper, being moved along very slowly accompanied by an up and down motion that tends to tamp the concrete. The template is then drawn along a second time to smooth the surface finally. After the surface has been struck off by hand, it is finally smoothed, first by rolling crosswise with a slight hand roller about 8 inches in diameter and 30 inches long. The final finish is effected by dragging a piece of web belting back and forth across the surface. Machines designed to tamp the concrete and strike it off to the required cross section are also employed for finishing. The machine is power operated and is carried on wheels that run on the side forms, and the machine moves slowly along as the tamping progresses. The concrete is tamped, struck off to shape and smoothed with the belt at one operation. This method of finishing produces denser and stronger concrete than can be produced by hand finishing methods. =Placing Concrete for Two-course Road.=--The methods employed for the two-course concrete road are much the same as for the one-course road. The concrete for the lower course is placed and struck off by means of hand tools, and after that course has progressed a few feet, the upper course is placed and finished as has been described for the one-course road. =Curing the Concrete.=--The setting action of cement is a chemical process, not merely a drying out of the water introduced in mixing the concrete. The chemical action is progressive for a long time, but is more rapid during the first few hours than during the later periods, and the concrete reaches about three-fourths of its maximum strength at the end of seven days. During the setting period and particularly during the first few days, plenty of water must be available to the cement. To prevent too rapid loss of water from the concrete during the setting period, the surface must be protected from the wind and sun. This is accomplished by first covering with canvas as soon as the concrete has hardened sufficiently and by later covering with earth, to a depth of two inches. The earth covering is kept wet for about ten days and is left in place for about one month. In some places the ponding method of curing is adopted. The surface is divided into sections by earthen dikes and the space inside the dikes filled with water to a depth of two or three inches. The water covering is maintained for two weeks or longer. No traffic is permitted on the surface for one month, and in cold weather traffic may be kept off the surface for a longer period. =Expansion Joints.=--To permit the concrete slab to accommodate itself to changes in dimension due to temperature changes, expansion joints 1/2 inch wide are placed about every thirty feet. These consist of a sheet of some prepared bituminous material placed in position as the concrete is poured. Experience seems to indicate that in spite of the expansion joints, the concrete will crack more or less and many engineers think it advisable to omit expansion joints in constructing the pavement and when cracks develop to pour bituminous material into them, thus forming expansion joints. The prevailing practice in rural highway construction is to omit the expansion joints, but they are commonly adopted in city pavements. =Reinforcing.=--To minimize the cracking, either bar or wire mesh reinforcing is used in the concrete. If bars are used they are placed in the concrete as it is poured so as to form a belt around each section about 15 feet square. If the mesh type is employed, a part of the layer of concrete is placed and smoothed off and a strip of the mesh laid in place. Additional concrete is then poured on top of the mesh to bring the slab to the required thickness. =Bituminous Coatings on Concrete Surfaces.=--The concrete road surface is sometimes coated with a layer of bituminous material and stone chips or gravel pebbles. This is particularly advisable where no really satisfactory aggregates are available and the concrete surface would not possess sufficient durability. The bituminous material is applied hot to the surface and is then covered with stone chips or gravel pebbles, ranging in size from 3/4 inch down to 1/4 inch, the resulting coating being about 3/4 inch thick. Many failures of this type of surface have been recorded due to the difficulty of securing adhesion to the concrete. This seems to be due in part to inability to get the proper bituminous materials and in part to climatic effects. Considerable progress has been made in developing this type of surface and it may eventually become a satisfactory maintenance method. =Characteristics.=--The concrete road is of a granular texture and is not slippery. It is of course rigid and noisy for steel tired vehicles. It is an excellent automobile road and its low tractive resistance makes it a desirable surface for horse drawn vehicles. It possesses a high degree of durability if properly constructed. It is likely to crack indiscriminately but as a general rule the cracks are not a serious defect. =Maintenance.=--The cracks that appear in the concrete surface are filled once or twice a year, tar or asphalt being employed. The dust and detritus is cleaned out of the cracks and the hot filler poured in, with enough excess overflowing to protect the edges. CHAPTER IX VITRIFIED BRICK ROADS Vitrified brick roads consist of a foundation course of Portland cement concrete, broken stone or slag macadam, or of brick laid flat, the first named being by far the most generally used, and a wearing course of vitrified brick. =Vitrified Brick.=--Vitrified brick are made from clay of such a character that when heated to the required temperature they will fuse into a glassy texture. Brick roads are constructed on roads carrying the severest of traffic and the brick must therefore be tough and of high resistance to wear. Not all of the clays from which brick may be manufactured will produce a product suitable for road construction, and paving brick, even though truly vitrified, are of different degrees of durability, depending upon the nature of the clay and the care exercised in the manufacture. Paving brick are manufactured by the stiff mud process, which means that the clay is molded into form in a relatively dry condition. To accomplish this, considerable pressure is exerted in forcing the column of clay through the dies, which form the prism from which the brick are cut. If the clay is unsuitable in character or is not properly ground and mixed, the brick will possess planes of weakness between the various layers of clay which have been pressed together, and these planes, called laminations, are a source of weakness if too marked. It is usual to specify that the brick used for road surfaces shall be free from marked laminations. If the brick is not properly burned it will be only partly vitrified and therefore not of maximum durability. It is customary to specify that the brick shall show a glassy fracture indicating complete vitrification. Various defects of a minor nature occasionally develop in the brick during the successive steps in the manufacturing process. Check cracks resulting from the burning or from too rapid cooling are often encountered, but unless these are deep, that is 3/16 inch or more, they do not impair the wearing quality of the brick, nor indicate structural weakness. Kiln marks are formed on some of the brick due to the weight of the brick above in the kiln. These depressions are not objectionable unless the brick are so distorted that they will not lie evenly in the pavement. Spacing lugs or raised letters are formed on one face of the brick to insure sufficient space between the brick for the filler. These lugs or letters are not less than 1/8 inch nor more than 1/4 inch high and of such design that they will not obstruct the free flow of filler into the joints between the brick. Several varieties of paving brick are to be had, the difference being principally in the design or size. =Repressed Brick.=--In this type of brick the spacing lugs are formed by pressing the green brick, after it has been cut to size, into a mold on one face of which are recessed letters or other devices into which the clay is pressed, thus forming the spacing lugs. =Vertical Fiber Brick.=--These brick are designed to be laid with one wire-cut face up and spacing is provided by two or more beads on the side of the brick. Sometimes the vertical fiber brick has no spacing lug, it being contended that the irregularities of the brick are such as to provide all of the space required. In practice this does not always work out, as the brick are so regular in shape that when laid there is too little space between the brick to permit the introduction of a suitable filler. The use of brick without spacing lugs is just beginning and is not yet a generally accepted practice. =Wire-cut-lug Brick.=--This is a type of non-repressed brick which has spacing lugs provided by cutting one face in a special manner which provided lugs for spacing. In this type the wire cut face is the one between the brick as they are laid in the pavement. =Tests for Quality.=--The standard test for quality of paving brick is the rattler test. The brick rattler consists of a barrel of 14 sides 24 inches long, mounted so as to rotate at a speed between 29.5 and 30.5 revolutions per minute. The duration of a test is 1800 revolutions. Ten brick constitute a charge and these are placed in the rattler along with 300 lbs. of cast iron spheres. The spheres are of two sizes, the smaller being 1-7/8 inch in diameter when new, and the larger 3-3/4 inches in diameter when new. Ten of the larger spheres are used and the balance of the charge is made up of the small size. When tested in the standard manner the loss allowable for the several classes of service are as follows: ------------+---------------+---------------- | | Maximum Loss Traffic | Average Loss | for any Brick ------------+---------------+---------------- Heavy | 20 per cent | 24 per cent Medium | 22 per cent | 26 per cent Light | 25 per cent | 28 per cent ------------+---------------+---------------- =Other Tests.=--Sometimes the absorption test is specified for paving brick, but it is rarely a vitrified brick that will pass the rattler tests which fails to pass a reasonable absorption test. Absorption of water in an amount exceeding 4 per cent indicates incomplete vitrification and failure of such brick is almost certain during the rattler tests. The cross breaking test is also sometimes employed, but generally only to check the general quality of the brick. Failure in service more frequently occurs from excessive wear than from any other cause and the cross breaking test has little significance, except for brick less than 3 inches thick, which are to be laid on a sand bedding course. =Foundation.=--The foundation for brick roads is usually of Portland cement concrete, the thickness varying with the nature of the traffic and the kind of soil upon which the pavement is built. For well drained soils and normal highway traffic, 5 inches is the ordinary thickness of foundation. Under favorable conditions such as locations with sandy soils or in semi-arid or arid regions where the soil is always stable, the foundation may be four inches thick, and a considerable mileage of brick road has been built with concrete foundations less than four inches thick. In other locations the soil and traffic conditions require a base six inches or more in thickness, and the proper thickness can be determined only after all of the factors involved are known and have been analyzed. It is impractical to adopt a standard thickness of foundation that will be equally economical for all locations and all kinds of traffic. As the brick pavement is essentially a heavy traffic type of surface, the design cannot be varied greatly with similar foundation conditions because the weight of individual loads is the significant factor and this does not vary so much as the volume of traffic. A variation in volume of traffic may be compensated for by a variation in the quality of the brick as already set forth. The mixtures for the concrete foundation vary widely because of the variation in the aggregates employed. If the fine and coarse aggregate for the concrete are of good quality a mixture of one part cement, two and one-half parts sand and five parts of coarse aggregate would insure concrete of adequate strength. A somewhat leaner mixture is sometimes employed and would be satisfactory if the aggregates were of exceptional concrete making quality. Mixtures of sand and pebbles (unscreened gravel) may also be used if care is exercised to secure a mixture of adequate strength. The proportion will of necessity vary with each particular material and the discussion of the various considerations involved may be obtained from various standard works on concrete and concrete materials. Broken stone macadam is sometimes utilized for the foundation course of the brick pavement and such foundations are constructed as water-bound, which is described in a previous chapter. The thickness, like that of the concrete foundation, varies with the soil conditions and the weight of the loads that are expected to use the road. The macadam is placed in a single layer and is rolled and bonded with screenings as described in the chapter dealing with water-bound macadam. Six inches is a common thickness for the macadam base. This type of foundation should be employed only where the soil is quite stable and where material costs are such as to insure that the macadam base is materially cheaper than one of concrete. This would usually be in locations where the cost of cement is high because of long hauls and where suitable macadam materials may be obtained close at hand. Old macadam roads are sometimes utilized for the foundation for the brick surface, but the instances where this is permissible are comparatively few in number. When an old macadam is to be used it is reshaped to the proper cross section and re-rolled and bonded so as to afford a stable foundation of the proper cross slope. BEDDING COURSE FOR BRICK SURFACES In order to equalize the variations in size and shape of the brick, they are laid on a bedding course composed of material into which the brick may be forced by rolling. In this way the upper surfaces of all brick can be brought to the proper elevation to insure smoothness and easy riding qualities. Several kinds of bedding course are now employed. =Sand Bedding Course.=--The sand bedding course has been referred to as a sand cushion, but as a matter of experience the cushion effect is slight, although sometimes pavements have become uneven because the brick have pushed down into the sand after the pavement was used for a time. The sand for the bedding course should preferably be fine grained, all particles passing the eight mesh sieve, but ordinary concrete sand is satisfactory. The sand need not be clean, as a comparatively large percentage of silt or clay does not impair the usefulness of the material. [Illustration: Fig. 19.--Cross Sections for Brick Highways] =Sand Mortar Bedding Course.=--In order to eliminate the tendency for the straight sand bedding course to shift because of the impact of traffic on the brick, a lean cement mortar is sometimes employed rather than the straight sand. Sand and cement in the ratio of one part cement to four or five parts of sand are mixed dry, and after the brick have been rolled, is moistened to furnish water to hydrate the cement. The sand employed is ordinary clean concrete sand. =Green Concrete Bedding Course.=--In the monolithic type of brick road construction, the brick are laid directly on the green concrete base before the concrete has taken a set and the irregularities of the brick are taken up by rolling them until bedded in concrete. FILLERS FOR BRICK SURFACES The spaces between the brick are filled with some material that will prevent the brick from being displaced and prevent water getting to the bedding course. A suitable filler must adhere to the brick and fill completely the spaces between them. It must withstand traffic so as to remain intact in the joints and when in place it must be rigid enough to prevent displacement of the brick. =Cement Grout Filler.=--One of the most commonly used fillers for brick pavements consists of a grout composed of Portland cement and fine sand. When properly mixed and applied the grout filler meets all requirements for a filler except that it is non-elastic and some means must be adopted for caring for pavement expansion. =Bituminous Fillers.=--Asphaltic materials and tars are widely used as fillers for brick pavements. Such fillers are of high melting point and consequently solid at ordinary temperature. They are poured into the joints hot and when they cool are firm enough to comply with the requirements for a filler. In addition, they have enough ductility to accommodate the expansion of the pavement due to temperature changes. =Mastic Fillers.=--Mastic consists of a mixture of about equal volumes of fine sand and a solid bituminous material. The mixture is prepared at high temperature and is worked into the joints between the brick while hot. When cool it resembles the straight bituminous filler except that the mastic is somewhat more resistant to wear than the straight bituminous filler. EXPANSION JOINTS It is recognized that brick will expand and contract with changes in temperature. When a bituminous or mastic filler is employed there is sufficient yield to the filler to accommodate the change in dimension in the brick, but when the grout filler is used either the expansion joint must be provided or the pavement must be designed to withstand the compression due to expansion of the brick. Expansion joints may consist of a sheet of bituminous mastic prepared for the purpose and set in place in the pavement. The sheet of joint material is simply inserted between courses of brick at the proper place. Another method of forming an expansion joint consists in placing a strip of wood between courses of brick at the place where a joint is required. After the pavement has been grouted, the wooden strip is pulled out and the joint is filled with a suitable bituminous filler. =Marginal Curb.=--If the sand bedding course is employed, it is necessary to provide curbing along the sides of the brick to hold the bedding course in place. The curb is usually constructed integral with the base and of concrete of the same mixture as the base. The width of the curb is usually six inches and the top of the curb is at the same elevation as the edge of brick surface. CONSTRUCTION OF THE SURFACE Before the construction of a brick surface should be undertaken on a road, the drainage should be provided for even more completely than for a less costly type of surface since it does not pay to jeopardize the stability of the pavement by failure to provide adequately for the stability of the supporting soil. Grades should also be reduced to the economical limit. The earth subgrade is brought to the proper elevation and cross section and is thoroughly rolled. If there are places where the soil will not compact properly under rolling, these places are corrected by taking out the material and back filling with new material that will properly compact under the roller. The aggregates for the concrete may be distributed along on the prepared subgrade or may be stored in stock piles or bins at convenient points. If stored on the subgrade, a traction mixer is employed which is drawn along the road as the work progresses, the materials being placed directly in the mixer. If stored at a central point, they may be transported to the mixer on the road and dumped directly into the mixer, or the mixer may be set up at the storage piles and the concrete hauled in trucks to the road where it is deposited and shaped. The concrete is spread to the proper thickness and tamped either by hand or by machinery. If the marginal curb is to be employed, it is constructed immediately after the concrete for the base has been finished but before the cement begins to set. After the foundation concrete has set, the bedding course is spread and struck off to the proper thickness. When the bedding course consists of sand-cement mortar, the sand and cement are mixed dry and spread to prescribed thickness. It is considered to be desirable to roll the sand bedding course with a light hand roller before the brick are placed, but the sand-cement bedding course is not rolled. The bedding course must be carefully shaped by means of a templet or strike board before the brick are placed. The brick are laid in straight courses across the pavement, with the spacing lugs all in the same direction if brick with spacing lugs are employed, and with the lugs in contact with the brick of adjoining courses. If brick without spacing lugs are used they are laid loosely so that there will be room for the filler between the brick of adjoining courses. After the brick have been laid they are rolled to bed them in the sand or sand-mortar bedding course and thus secure a smooth surface. For this purpose a light, power driven, tandem roller is used and the rolling is continued until the brick are thoroughly bedded. Any defective brick that are noted are removed and replaced with good brick and after this culling has been completed the surface is once more thoroughly rolled. If a cement-sand bedding course is employed, the surface is sprinkled just after the final rolling so that water will flow down between the brick and moisten the bedding course sufficiently to cause the cement to set. In some cases, the sand-cement bedding course is sprinkled just before the brick are laid but in warm weather the setting would take place before the brick could be rolled if that were done. In cool weather the setting is sufficiently slow to permit rolling before the bedding course hardens. The filler is applied to the surface after the rolling. If the bituminous type of filler is employed, the hot filler is poured onto the surface and worked into the joints by means of squeegees, with comparatively little material left on the surface. In some instances cone-shaped pouring pots are employed and the material is poured directly into the joints. The cement grout filler is applied in the same general manner as the bituminous filler. The grout, consisting of equal parts of sand and cement, is mixed to a thin consistency and poured onto the surface and is then worked into the joints with squeegees. Two or more applications are usually required to effect a complete filling of the joints. The surface should be covered with sand and be kept moist until the cement grout has set. CHAPTER X BITUMINOUS ROAD MATERIALS AND THEIR USE Tars and asphaltic materials of various kinds are widely used for road construction and maintenance, especially for road surfaces subjected to motor traffic. Materials of this character that are employed in highway work possess varying degrees of adhesiveness, and while they may be semi-solid or viscous liquids at air temperature, they melt on the application of heat and can be made sufficiently fluid to mix with the mineral aggregates that may be used in the road surface. Upon cooling, the bituminous materials return to the previous state and impart a certain amount of plasticity to the mixture, at the same time serving as a binding or cementing agent, which is sufficiently stable for many classes of road construction. =Classes of Bituminous Materials.=--Bituminous materials may be classified, according to the source from which they are obtained, as coal tars, water gas tars, native or natural asphalts and oil or petroleum asphalts. =Coal Tar.=--Coal tar is obtained as a by-product in the manufacture of illuminating gas from coal. It is also obtained in the manufacture of coke from coal. The tar thus obtained is manufactured into products that are used for dust layers on gravel or macadam roads, binders for macadam and gravel surfaces, fillers for brick, wood block and stone block pavements and for expansion joints. These various materials differ mainly in their consistency at air temperature. (They may differ widely in chemical composition, but that need not be considered herein.) =Water Gas Tar.=--Water gas tar is obtained as a by-product in the manufacture of illuminating gas from crude petroleum. It is used for the same kinds of construction as coal tar, and the products utilized for the several purposes, like the coal tars, differ mainly in consistency. =Natural Asphalt.=--Natural asphalt is found in deposits at many places in the world, existing in beds or pools where it has exuded from the earth or as veins in cavities in the rocks. It is of varying composition and consistency, but those kinds in most general use are solid or very viscous liquids at air temperature. Of the deposits that have been developed on a commercial scale, the Trinidad lake in the British West Indies and Bermudez deposit in Venezuela are best known. Both of these materials are too hard in the natural state to be used for road construction, and are softened, or fluxed as it is called, with fluid petroleum oil before being used. =Petroleum Asphalt.=--Petroleum asphalt is a residue remaining after the fluid products have been distilled from petroleum. Residues of this sort are not always suitable for road construction, but a number of brands of road material are obtained from this source. Oil asphalts are used for dust layers, for binders for macadam roads, for asphalt cements for sheet pavement surfaces, and for fillers for block pavements and expansion joints. =Mixtures.=--Water gas tars and asphalts are sometimes mixed to produce road materials, and likewise native asphalts and residues obtained from petroleum are sometimes mixed to produce asphalt cements for paving mixtures. =Classification according to Consistency.=--The various bituminous materials may be classified according to consistency in discussing the various uses to which they may be put. =Road Oils.=--Road oils are fluid petroleum oils of such consistency that they may be applied cold or by heating slightly. They are used as dust layers on earth, gravel and macadam surfaces. Their efficacy depends upon the binding properties of the small amount of asphaltic material that is contained in the oil. =Liquid Asphalts.=--These are somewhat less fluid than the road oils, and must always be heated before application, but are viscous liquids at ordinary temperature. These materials are obtained from crude petroleum or semi-solid native bitumens, in which case they are usually called malthas. Both coal tars and water gas tars of semi-solid consistency are also employed for the same class of construction as the liquid asphalts. These materials are used for carpeting mediums on macadam roads and as cementing agents in the construction of hot-mixed macadam. =Asphalt Cements.=--The solid asphaltic materials used for hot-mixed types of construction are called asphalt cements. They may be petroleum residues or native asphalts fluxed with petroleum oils. They are solids at ordinary temperature and must be heated to a temperature in excess of two hundred and fifty degrees before they are sufficiently fluid to use. Asphalt cements are used for sheet asphalt and asphaltic concrete construction and for hot-mixed bituminous macadam. =Fillers.=--Fillers are solid asphalts or tars that are used for filling expansion joints in rigid pavements and for filling the spaces between the blocks in brick, wood block and stone block pavements. =Bitumen.=--Bituminous materials are all soluble to a greater or lesser extent in carbon disulphide and the soluble portion is called bitumen. It is the bitumen that gives to the materials the cementing properties utilized in road construction. Mixtures of mineral aggregates and bituminous materials for various purposes are proportioned with bitumen as a basis. Therefore, less of an asphalt containing one hundred per cent bitumen will be used than of one containing less than one hundred per cent of bitumen. TABLE 8 PROPERTIES OF ASPHALTIC ROAD MATERIALS (A) Material (B) Specific Gravity (C) Consistency (D) Solubility in CS_2, Per Cent (E) Solubility of Bitumen in CCl_4, Per Cent (F) Solubility of Bitumen in 86° Naphtha, Per Cent (G) Fixed Carbon, Per Cent (H) Flash Point (I) Ductility -------------------------+---------+----------+----------+------------ (A) | (B) | (C) | (D) | (E) -------------------------+---------+----------+----------+------------ Mexican oil asphalts |1.03-1.05|As desired| 99.5-99.9|99.5-99.9 California oil asphalts |1.02-1.04|As desired| 99.9 | 99.9 Texas oil asphalts |1.01-1.03|As desired| 99.9 | 99.9 Bermudez natural asphalt|1.07 | 25 | 95 | 99+ Trinidad natural asphalt |1.40 | 7 | 56-57 | 100 Bermudez asphalt cement |1.04-1.06|Up to 135 | 95-97 |99.5 or more -------------------------+---------+----------+----------+------------ -------------------------+---------+----------+----------+------------ (A) | (F) | (G) | (H) | (I) -------------------------+---------+----------+----------+------------ Mexican oil asphalts | 70-80 | 13-16 | 200°C. up| 60-100 California oil asphalts | 75-80 | 10-12 | 200°C. up| 100+ Texas oil asphalts | 75-80 | 12-14 | 200°C. up| 50-100 Bermudez natural asphalt| 68-70 | 13-14 | ... | ... Trinidad natural asphalt | 64-65 | 10-11 | ... | ... Bermudez asphalt cement | 77-80 | 11-12 | 175-200 | 25-50 -------------------------+---------+----------+----------+------------ =Specifications.=--Some properties of bituminous materials can be varied in the process of manufacture, while others are inherent in the material and cannot be changed in the process of manufacture. Specifications must therefore be drawn with care to insure that the requirements can be met by satisfactory materials. But certain properties, such as specific gravity, may vary greatly among materials equally satisfactory for construction purposes. One should not be misled by apparent differences in the characteristics of materials, because these may simply be natural peculiarities which have no bearing on the usefulness of the material. There are given in Table 8 the properties of some of the commonly used bituminous materials and the properties that can be varied in the process of manufacture are indicated with an asterisk. A variation in these properties will usually result in some change of other properties, but generally not a great change. SURFACES IN WHICH BITUMINOUS MATERIALS ARE UTILIZED I. Surface Treatments Attention has been directed to the rapid deterioration of water-bound macadam when subjected to passenger automobile traffic. In water-bound macadam the stones are held in place by a weak cement composed of stone dust and water, and this cement is not sufficiently strong to hold the stones in place when they are subjected to the shear of automobile tires. In finishing the water-bound macadam surface, the spaces between the stones are filled with screening and in addition a layer about one-fourth inch thick is left on the surface. The automobile traffic first brushes aside all of the screenings and smaller particles of rock, exposing the larger stones. These gradually loosen as the road is used and are brushed aside. When this effect begins, the road is said to be raveling. Various lengths of time may elapse from the time the road is first finished until raveling begins, depending upon the character of the stone, the weather and the amount of motor traffic. During the period before raveling starts, it is comparatively easy to restore the road surface at any time by the addition of screenings or clay and sand. Usually there will be a few small areas of the surface that, on account of faulty construction, will ravel or become rutted much earlier than the remainder of the surface. These can be repaired by the methods described in the chapter on "Water-bound Macadam Construction." When the surface begins to ravel seriously, maintenance becomes much more difficult and in order to prevent raveling and the difficulties of maintenance thereafter, the macadam surface is often coated with a bituminous material. [Illustration: Fig. 20.--Oiling a Gravel Road] If there is any dust or screenings on the road surface, the bituminous material will not adhere to the stones and will soon flake off under traffic. The surface of the macadam must therefore be thoroughly cleaned before the bituminous material is applied. The usual practice is to finish the road as water-bound macadam, and permit traffic on it for a sufficient length of time to show any weak places in the surface and at the same time thoroughly to season the surface. If any defective places appear, they are repaired and when the surface exhibits satisfactory stability, but before it begins to ravel, the bituminous surface is applied. There will ordinarily be some stone dust and some screenings remaining on the surface at the time bituminous treatment is undertaken, and there may also be some caked mud or other foreign material. All of this must be removed so as to expose the stones throughout. =Applying the Bituminous Binder.=--The bituminous binder may be delivered in tank cars, which is desirable if the work is near a railroad siding, or ample tank wagon service is available for long hauls so that the tank will not be held up too long. Often it is desirable to purchase the binder in barrels and haul these to the site of the work in advance of beginning the construction of the surface. The bituminous material may be applied by means of hand spreading cans not unlike an ordinary garden watering pot, except that a slotted nozzle is substituted for the ordinary perforated one. If hand methods are employed for spreading, the bituminous material is heated in open kettles and then spread on the surface, the quantity required usually being about one-half gallon per square yard of surface. The temperature of the binder should be great enough to insure fluidity and the road should be dry at the time of the application. As soon as the material has been spread, the surface is finished with a dressing of chips. =Finishing the Surface.=--For surface dressing the best material is stone chips ranging in size from about 1 inch down to one-fourth inch. But the chips must be of durable material, or they will quickly grind into dust. They must be free from dust when applied, as the presence of any considerable amount of dust interferes with the proper finishing of the surface. The stone chips are rolled into the surface, a sufficient quantity being used to just cover the surface. =Patching.=--It almost always happens that some small areas will not be properly cleaned or that for some unknown reason the coating peels off the surface. Such places must be promptly patched to prevent them enlarging under the action of traffic. This work is usually done by patrolmen, who inspect the road at frequent intervals and make the necessary repairs. The patrolman is equipped with a small heating kettle, a spreading can and the necessary brushes, tampers and miscellaneous tools needed for the repair work. The place to be patched is carefully cleaned, coated with bituminous binder and stone chips and tamped until dense and solid. Repairs made in this way are exceedingly important in that they arrest deterioration in its early stages and maintain a high degree of serviceability. II. Penetration Macadam A considerable mileage of macadam has been constructed in which an attempt was made to eliminate the difficulties of maintenance by a method of construction that involves applying a bituminous binder in such a manner as to permit it to penetrate two inches or more into the surface. It is expected that the binder will coat the stones to such an extent as to increase materially the stability of the bituminous macadam over the surface treated one. It is also expected that less difficulty will be encountered in maintaining a surface of bituminous material and stone chips on this type of road than on the water-bound macadam. The extent to which these expectations have been realized has varied to a marked degree and although some excellent surfaces have been constructed by this method, the results have as a rule been neither uniform nor entirely satisfactory. It seems to be apparent that good results cannot be obtained unless the materials are entirely suitable and the construction is carried out with unusual skill. =Foundation.=--The foundation or lower course consists of a layer of broken stone six inches thick placed on a well drained and thoroughly rolled earth subgrade. In exceptional cases, the Telford type of foundation might be employed. The lower course of broken stone is finished in the same manner as water-bound macadam, being bonded with stone screenings or with fine gravel of high clay content. Since this course is in reality the foundation of the surface, it is necessary to secure stability by appropriate construction methods, exactly as in constructing water-bound macadam. [Illustration: Fig. 21.--Type of Roller used on Gravel and Macadam Roads] =Upper or Wearing Course.=--The wearing course consists of a layer of stone about two and one-half inches thick. The stone is placed and rolled and the spaces between the stones partially filled with some suitable bituminous material. The bituminous material is usually applied by means of a mechanical spreading device connected to a tank wagon. The bituminous materials employed for this class of construction are semi-solid in character and must be heated to give them sufficient fluidity for application. They may be heated in the tank wagon which is used for the application or they may be heated in separate tanks and transferred to the distributing wagon for spreading. Some kind of a nozzle or group of nozzles is employed for spreading the material so that it can be delivered in the form of a spray or at least in a thin fan-shaped stream and can be distributed in a fairly uniform layer over the stone. The binder will cool rather rapidly after it is applied, but meanwhile will flow into the openings between the stones and will form over the surface stones a coating of slight thickness. The surface of the macadam is next covered with a layer of chips of tough rock, similar to the material used for the final dressing in surface treatments. These are carefully brushed into the openings between the larger stones by means of heavy brush brooms. This is an exceedingly important part of the work and often a much neglected part of the construction. The surface is then covered with a second application of bituminous material, somewhat less in quantity than required for the first treatment and the surface again covered with stone chips and brushed. The surface is then thoroughly rolled and is ready for traffic. =Patching.=--As in the case of surface treatments, there are likely to be places that, on account of defects in the construction, will fail soon after the road is placed under traffic. These will quickly enlarge unless they are repaired promptly. The repairs are made by loosening the stone in the area affected and adding new stone as needed and then pouring on the necessary amount of bituminous material to coat the stones. Allowance must be made for the compression of the material by tamping so that a depression does not result. The stones are carefully tamped to place and covered with chips which are also tamped. =Characteristics.=--The penetration macadam is a surface well adapted to motor traffic if the individual vehicles are not too heavy. It is likely to squeeze out of shape under motor truck traffic, becoming seriously uneven and uncomfortable for traffic. Its durability is materially affected by the construction methods followed. III. Hot Mixed Macadam The wearing course of the mixed macadam is composed of graded broken stone or gravel and a bituminous binder. Usually the bituminous material only is heated prior to the mixing, but sometimes the stone is also heated. =Foundation.=--The lower course, which serves as the foundation, is either broken stone macadam, gravel or concrete. Where a foundation of broken stone is used, it is constructed of the materials and in the manner described for the foundation of the penetration macadam. Quite often a badly worn macadam or gravel road is used for the foundation and a new wearing course provided by adding a mixed macadam surface. If such is the case, the old surface is worked over so as to restore the shape sufficiently and to insure that it is everywhere of sufficient thickness. Portland cement concrete is sometimes used as a foundation for the mixed macadam, but not often. Usually if the traffic is of a character requiring a concrete foundation, it is desirable to use a better wearing course than the mixed macadam, and the asphaltic concrete or sheet asphalt type of surface is employed. It is necessary to finish the surface of the concrete base with some device that will leave the surface rough to prevent the macadam from creeping. A knobbed tamper which leaves numerous irregular depressions about 2 inches in diameter and three-fourths inch deep is often employed. =Sizes of Stone.=--For the wearing surface, stone ranging in size from 2 inches down to one-fourth inch is usually employed. If the stone is of good quality the maximum size may be but 1-1/2 inches, but soft or even medium stone of that size are likely to crush under traffic. The stone for the base course should preferably be from 3 inches down, but any available size will be satisfactory if the layer is well rolled and bonded. The base course is constructed in the same manner as water-bound macadam and any material satisfactory for the base course of macadam will serve for the base course of mixed macadam. Screenings having good bonding properties will also be required for the base course. =Mixing and Wearing Surface.=--Several methods are employed in mixing the wearing surface. The simplest is to mix by hand with shovels. The aggregates are heated in improvised heaters which may consist of nothing more than a metal pipe two or three feet in diameter, around which the stone is piled. The mixing platform is usually a metal plate sometimes arranged so that it can be heated by means of a fire underneath. The bituminous material is heated in kettles. For some mixtures, the stone is not heated, but the bituminous material is always heated. The batch of stone is placed on the mixing platform, the bituminous material added and the materials mixed by hand. Machine mixing is practiced much more extensively than hand mixing, being both more rapid and cheaper. The mixer is similar to a concrete mixer except that the drum is arranged so that it can be heated. The hot stone and the bituminous binder are put into the drum and mixed for the requisite length of time. Sometimes the stone is mixed cold, the bituminous material only being heated. =Placing the Wearing Surface.=--The hot mixture is carted to the road and spread to such thickness that after rolling the wearing surface will be not less than two inches thick. The hot mixture is dumped and then spread by means of shovels to the approximate thickness and the spreading completed by means of rakes. The surface is then rolled either with a tandem or a three-wheeled roller until thoroughly compressed. =Seal Coat.=--After the rolling has been completed, the surface is covered with hot bituminous cement and dressed with pea gravel or stone chips and again rolled. Traffic may be permitted in twenty-four hours. =Characteristics.=--The mixed macadam is a somewhat resilient surface of excellent riding qualities and considerable durability for medium traffic. It is likely to creep and become uneven when subjected to heavy loads. The seal coat will wear off in two or three years and will require replacing. IV. Asphaltic Concrete Asphaltic concrete is a name given to a road surface mixture which is composed of graded stone, graded sand and asphalt cement. This type is designated as asphaltic concrete because of the analogy of the mixture to Portland cement concrete. Asphaltic concrete is of two general types known as bitulithic, or Warrenite, and Topeka asphaltic concrete, respectively, the differences being in the nature of the mixture. =Bitulithic or Warrenite.=--The stone employed for these types is graded down from a size about equal to one-half of the thickness of the wearing course, and stone passing a 1-1/4 or 1-1/2-inch screen is usually specified. From the maximum size the stone is graded down to the finest particles produced by the crusher. The range of sizes of stone will vary with the source of the supply, and in order to secure the desired density in the mixture, varying amounts of graded sand and mineral dust, such as ground limestone or Portland cement, are added to the broken stone. Usually the resulting mixture contains less than fifteen per cent of voids, and to this carefully graded mineral aggregate there is added enough asphalt cement to bind together the particles. =Topeka Asphaltic Concrete.=--In this type of asphaltic concrete, the mineral aggregate consists of a mixture of carefully graded sand and of broken stone of such size that all will pass a one-half-inch screen and graded down to the fine dust produced by the crusher. To this mixture is added about nine per cent of Portland cement or limestone dust. The voids in the mixture are usually about twenty-five per cent. It will be seen that the essential differences between the Bitulithic and Topeka types are these: the Topeka type contains a larger percentage of voids and stone of a smaller maximum size than the Bitulithic. Both types have been extensively employed for city paving, but the Bitulithic and Warrenite types have also been used to some extent for rural highways. The Topeka type has been used but little for rural highways. =Foundation.=--The foundation for the asphaltic concrete may be an old macadam road, a base course constructed of broken stone or Portland cement concrete, the latter being used much more extensively than either of the other types. Sometimes asphaltic concrete is used for resurfacing water-bound macadam or gravel roads when the traffic has increased to the point where the cost of maintenance of the water-bound macadam has become excessive. The existing surface is repaired and the cross section is restored, or possibly flattened somewhat. =Placing the Surface.=--The stone, sand and asphalt cement are heated to the required temperature and combined in the proper proportions and are then thoroughly mixed by a mechanical mixer. The mixture is hauled directly to the road and is dumped and spread by means of rakes. It is then rolled thoroughly while still hot, a three-wheeled roller being most satisfactory. After rolling, a seal coat of hot asphalt cement is spread over the surface and covered with hot stone chips about 1/4 inch in size. The surface can be opened to traffic immediately after the surface has been completed. =Characteristics.=--The asphaltic concrete surface is of excellent riding properties, is easily repaired and of moderate durability. It is a particularly desirable surface for pleasure automobile riding and for horse drawn traffic. CHAPTER XI MAINTENANCE OF HIGHWAYS Proper maintenance of highways is equally important with proper construction. With nearly all types of road construction, the need for maintenance arises soon after the surface is placed under traffic and is continuous thereafter. The nature and amount of maintenance work varies greatly among the several types of surface and the organization suitable for a system of highways will depend to a considerable extent upon the kinds of surfaces that are to be maintained. The upkeep of a road may be conveniently considered as of two kinds, viz., (1) that which has to do with the wearing surface and earth shoulders or berms upon which there is some traffic and (2) that which has to do with the side ditches and drainage structures and keeping the roadside in presentable condition. Both kinds of work are usually carried out by the same organization, but whereas the nature of the work indicated under (1) will vary with the type of wearing surface and with all variations in traffic, that which is indicated under (2) will be nearly constant in any locality. ORGANIZATION FOR MAINTENANCE Maintenance of highways is preferably under the administration of the same authority as construction and when an improvement is undertaken under the jurisdiction of a State Highway Department, the completed improvement is ordinarily maintained under the state authority. If the improvement is made by county authorities, the maintenance is also carried out under county authority. The nature of the organization of maintenance forces is dependent upon the kind of roads to be cared for and must of necessity be varied in any instance as conditions demand. In general, either maintenance gangs or patrolmen are employed and often both are used on the same road system. =Patrol Maintenance.=--Where this system is in operation, the highway system is divided into patrol districts of from six to eighteen miles of highway and a single patrolman is placed in charge of each district. He is provided with all of the necessary tools and materials required in his district and performs all of the work required in the ordinary upkeep of the highway. He should work under the direction of the county engineer or the district engineer for the state highway department, because his work involves the use of materials and processes requiring technical supervision. =Gang Maintenance.=--The maintenance gang may be employed for some types of road surface in lieu of the patrolman or with other types of surface may be employed to supplement the work of the patrolman. The maintenance gang consists of three to ten men and is furnished all of the tools and materials required for the particular kind of work they do. Ordinarily the gang goes over the roads assigned to it once each season and performs those repair operations requiring more work than the patrolman can find time for. The work of the maintenance gang like that of the patrolman should be under engineering supervision. =Maintenance of Earth, Sand-clay, Gravel and Macadam Roads.=--The ordinary upkeep of earth, sand-clay, gravel and macadam surfaces is most readily accomplished by the patrol method, since constant care is required to keep the roads in a condition of maximum service ability. The tools required for each patrolman may include the following: 1 shovel 1 spade 1 stone rake 1 pick 1 scythe 1 tamper 1 or more road drags 1 mowing machine for cutting weeds 1 wheelbarrow (sometimes) 1 light truck 1 small kit carpenter's tools The work of the patrolman consists in keeping the surface of the road smooth by dragging, repairing chuck holes by tamping in fresh material of the appropriate kind, keeping the ditches and culverts free from obstruction, cutting weeds and repairing bridge floors if they are of plank construction. Removal of snow drifts is sometimes a part of the patrolman's duty, but more often that is done by special gangs. Usually the patrolman is authorized to hire teams for dragging and cutting weeds. When an earth road requires to be re-graded so as to restore the cross-section and deepen the ditches, a gang is sent in to perform that work, as it is obviously impossible for the patrolman to perform work, of that kind. If the gravel road is being maintained with a bituminous carpet coat, the patrolman will be furnished the necessary tools to enable him to patch the surface with bituminous material as necessity requires. When the surface deteriorates to such an extent that a new carpet coat is required, the gang system is employed for all work connected with resurfacing, instead of attempting to have the work done by patrolmen. The maintenance of the macadam road is carried out in much the same manner as that of the gravel road. The binder of stone dust or clayey sand is renewed as often as it is swept off by traffic. Depressions or ruts are repaired by first loosening the surface with a pick and then adding broken stone and screenings to restore the surface. When the macadam reaches the stage where entire resurfacing is needed, the work is performed by gangs organized and equipped for the purpose; and likewise when the surface is being maintained with a bituminous carpet, the renewal of the carpet coat is performed by special gangs, but the ordinary upkeep of the surface by patching is handled by a patrolman. MAINTENANCE OF MIXED BITUMINOUS SURFACES [Illustration: Fig. 22.--Scarafier used in Gravel Road Maintenance] These types of surface can be kept in satisfactory condition if they are carefully repaired once or twice each season. This work requires considerable experience and some special equipment, not ordinarily supplied to patrolmen. A gang is organized for the work and supplied with the proper equipment. They go over the roads and patch all worn places, generally first removing the wearing surface entirely in the area affected. The wearing surface mixture is then prepared and tamped or rolled into place. If the area affected is small, tamping is satisfactory, and when the area is considerable, rolling is employed. The upkeep of the side roads may be accomplished by the same gang but is preferably taken care of by patrolmen, who do not attempt any but minor repairs to the wearing surface. MAINTENANCE OF BRICK AND CONCRETE ROADS On brick and concrete roads, the principal work on the wearing surface consists in filling the cracks with a suitable bituminous material. This work is done by patrolmen or by special gangs and generally will be done once each year. The upkeep of the side roads is cared for by patrolmen who drag the side roads and cut the weeds as occasion requires. INDEX Administration county; 15 federal; 17 highway; 13 state; 16 township; 13 Aesthetics; 62 Aggregate, fine; 101 Aggregate, coarse; 100 Air resistance; 51 Alignment; 46 Applying bituminous binder; 122 Asphaltic concrete; 128 Asphalt, natural; 117 liquid; 118 petroleum; 117 Assessments, special; 19 zone method; 20 Bedding course, green mortar; 111 sand mortar; 111 sand bedding mortar; 111 Binder for gravel; 75 Bitulithic or warrenite; 128 Bitumen; 118 Bituminous coatings on concrete; 105 Bituminous fillers; 112 Bituminous road materials and their use; 116 Bituminous surfaces; 96, 120 Blade grader; 69 Bonding; 87 Bonds, annuity; 26 serial; 27 sinking fund; 25 Box culverts; 39 Brick roads; 113 Brick, repressed; 107 tests of 108; vertical fiber; 107 vitrified; 106 wire-cut-lug; 108 Broken stone road surfaces; 89 Cement, asphaltic; 118 Cement concrete roads; 98 Cement grout filler; 112 Characteristics, asphaltic concrete; 129 bituminous macadam; 125 broken stone; 97 concrete; 105 mixed macadam; 128 sand clay; 78 Classes of bituminous materials; 116 Classification according to consistency; 117 Clay and cement concrete pipe; 39 Coal tar; 116 Concrete, asphaltic; 128 Concrete materials; 100 Concrete pipe; 39 Control of erosion; 61 Costs; 70 County administration; 15 Cross sections; 60, 65 Culverts; 56 Curing concrete; 103 Design, broken stone roads; 89 concrete roads; 99 earth roads; 42 Desirability of road bonds; 27 Development of traffic; 2 Drainage, necessity of; 29 Drainage of roads; 29 Earth roads, in arid regions; 72 humid regions; 65 value of; 73 Earth works; 92 Education, rural; 6 Effect of grades; 54 Elevating grader; 66 Elevating grader work; 68 End walls for culverts; 39 Energy loss on account of grades; 57 Entrances, farm; 37, 61 Expansion joints; 104 Farm entrance culverts; 37 Federal administration; 17 Fillers; 118 Finance, highway; 19 Fine aggregate; 101 Finishing surface of concrete; 122 Foundation, asphaltic concrete; 129 brick; 109 macadam; 93 mixed macadam; 126 penetration macadam; 123 Telford; 94 Gang maintenance; 131 Grader, Maney; 67 use of; 69 Gravel, ideal; 81 natural; 83 roads; 74 General taxation; 24 Good roads and commerce; 7 Green concrete bedding course; 111 Highway administration; 13 Highway finance; 19 maintenance; 130 Importance of design; 30 Ideal road gravel; 81 Inter-city traffic; 5 Inter-county and inter-state traffic; 5 Internal resistance; 50 Intersections; 46 Laying tile; 35 Length of culvert; 37 Liquid asphalt; 118 Local farm to market traffic; 4 Macadam; 89 Maintenance, concrete; 105 earth roads; 70 general; 131 gravel roads; 88 macadam; 96 of highways; 130 patrol; 131 Maney grader; 67 Marginal curb; 113 Measuring materials; 101 Metal pipe; 38 Mixing wearing surface; 127 Mixtures; 117 Natural asphalt; 117 gravel; 79 Necessity for planning; 42 drainage; 29 Patching; 122, 125 Patrol maintenance; 131 Pebbles, size of; 80 Petroleum asphalt; 117 Placing asphaltic concrete; 129 Placing broken stone; 94 Placing concrete; 102, 103 mixed macadam; 127 Plans for roads; 43 Preliminary investigation; 44 Preparation of earth foundation; 102 of road; 85 Private entrances; 61 Properties of stone; 90 Proportions for concrete roads; 101 Purpose of highways; 1 Reinforced concrete box culverts; 39 Reinforcing; 104 Repressed brick; 107 Road oils; 117 Road plans; 43 Rocks, kind of, for macadam; 91 Rolling, macadam; 95 Rolling resistance; 50 Run-off; 31 Rural education; 6 Rural social life; 7 Safety consideration; 58 Sand bedding course; 111 Sand clay and gravel road; 74 Sand mortar bedding course; 111 Seal coat; 127 Serial bonds; 27 Sinking fund bond; 25 Slip scraper; 67 Special assessments; 19 Specifications; 119 Spreading screenings; 95 State administration; 16 Stone, use of; 92 Surface drainage; 30 Surfaces, bituminous; 120 Surface method; 87 Superelevation; 47 Tests, brick; 108 Tile drains; 35 Topeka asphaltic concrete; 128 Tractive resistance; 52 Trench method; 85 Truck operation costs; 9 Types of culverts; 38 Underground water; 34 Undulating roads; 58 Use of blade grader; 69 Utilizing natural gravels; 83 Value of earth roads; 73 Variation in rainfall; 64 Variation in soils; 63 Vehicle taxes; 24 Vertical fiber brick; 107 Vitrified brick roads; 106 Vitrified brick; 106 Water gas tar; 117 Width of roadway; 59 Wire-cut-lug brick; 108 Zone method of assessing; 20 * * * * * [Transcriber's Notes: The transcriber made these changes to the text to correct obvious errors: 1. p. 5, accomodate --> accommodate 2. p. 39, guage --> gauge 3. p. 46, enbankment --> embankment 4. p. 63, tought --> tough 5. p. 68, absorbant --> absorbent 6. p. 73, persistant --> persistent 7. p. 77, indispensible --> indispensable 8. p. 119, aspealt --> asphalt 9. p. 127, repaid --> rapid 10. p. 130, Vetrified brick; 105 --> Vitrified brick; 106 11. p. 130, Virtical --> Vertical End of Transcriber's Notes] 
41067	----	HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 11 [Illustration: A MILESTONE ON BRADDOCK'S ROAD [_See page 105, note 19_]] HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 11 Pioneer Roads and Experiences of Travelers (Volume I) BY ARCHER BUTLER HULBERT _With Illustrations_ [Illustration] THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY CLEVELAND, OHIO 1904 COPYRIGHT, 1904 BY THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 11 I. THE EVOLUTION OF HIGHWAYS: FROM INDIAN TRAIL TO TURNPIKE 15 II. A PILGRIM ON THE PENNSYLVANIA ROAD 106 III. ZANE'S TRACE AND THE MAYSVILLE PIKE 151 IV. PIONEER TRAVEL IN KENTUCKY 175 ILLUSTRATIONS I. A MILESTONE ON BRADDOCK'S ROAD _Frontispiece_ II. INDIAN TRAVAIL 19 III. OLD CONESTOGA FREIGHTER 50 IV. EARLIEST STYLE OF LOG TAVERN 87 V. WIDOW MCMURRAN'S TAVERN (Scrub Ridge, Pennsylvania Road) 134 VI. BRIDGE ON WHICH ZANE'S TRACE CROSSED THE MUSKINGUM RIVER AT ZANESVILLE, OHIO 162 VII. PIONEER VIEW OF HOUSES AT FORT CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND 191 PREFACE The first chapter of this volume presents an introduction to the two volumes of this series devoted to Pioneer Roads and Experiences of Travelers. The evolution of American highways from Indian trail to macadamized road is described; the Lancaster Turnpike, the first macadamized road in the United States, being taken as typical of roads of the latter sort. An experience of a noted traveler, Francis Baily, the eminent British astronomer, is presented in chapter two. The third chapter is devoted to the story of Zane's Trace from Virginia to Kentucky across Ohio, and its terminal, the famous Maysville Pike. It was this highway which precipitated President Jackson's veto of the Internal Improvement Bill of 1830, one of the epoch-making vetoes in our economic history. The last chapter is the vivid picture of Kentucky travel drawn by Judge James Hall in his description of "The Emigrants," in _Legends of the West_. The illustrations in this volume have been selected to show styles of pioneer architecture and means of locomotion, including types of earliest taverns, bridges, and vehicles. A. B. H. MARIETTA, OHIO, December 30, 1903. Pioneer Roads and Experiences of Travelers (Volume I) CHAPTER I THE EVOLUTION OF HIGHWAYS: FROM INDIAN TRAIL TO TURNPIKE We have considered in this series of monographs the opening of a number of Historic Roads and the part they played in the development of the most important phases of early American history. But our attitude has been that of one asking, Why?--we have not at proper length considered all that would be contained in the question, How? It will be greatly to our purpose now to inquire into the methods of road-making, and outline, briefly, the evolution of the first trodden paths to the great highways of civilization. From one aspect, and an instructive one, the question is one of width; few, if any, of our roads are longer than those old "threads of soil"--as Holland called the Indian trails; Braddock's Road was not longer than the trail he followed; even the Cumberland Road could probably have been followed its entire length by a parallel Indian path or a buffalo trace. But Braddock's Road was, in its day, a huge, broad track, twelve feet wide; and the Cumberland Road exceeded it in breadth nearly fifty feet. So our study may be pursued from the interesting standpoint of a widening vista; the belt of blue above our heads grows broader as we study the widening of the trail of the Indian. To one who has not followed the trails of the West or the Northland, the experience is always delightful. It is much the same delight as that felt in traversing a winding woodland road, intensified many fold. The incessant change of scenery, the continued surprises, the objects passed unseen yet not unguessed, those half-seen through a leafy vista amid the shimmering green; the pathway just in front very plain, but twenty feet beyond as absolutely hidden from your eyes as though it were a thousand miles away--such is the romance of following a trail. One's mind keeps as active as when looking at Niagara, and it is lulled by the lapsing of those leaves as if by the roar of that cataract. Yet the old trail, unlike our most modern roads, kept to the high ground; even in low places it seemed to attempt a double-bow knot in keeping to the points of highest altitude. But when once on the hills, the vista presented varied only with the altitude, save where hidden by the foliage. We do not choose the old "ridge roads" today for the view to be obtained, and we look continually up while the old-time traveler so often looked down. As we have hinted, elsewhere, many of our pioneer battles--those old battles of the trails--will be better understood when the position of the attacking armies is understood to have been on lower levels, the rifles shooting upward, the enemy often silhouetted against the very sky-line. [Illustration: INDIAN TRAVAIL] But the one characteristic to which, ordinarily, there was no exception, was the narrowness of these ancient routes. The Indian did not travel in single file because there was advantage in that formation; it was because his only routes were trails which he never widened or improved; and these would, ordinarily, admit only of one such person as broke them open. True, the Indians did have broader trails; but they were very local in character and led to maple-sugar orchards or salt wells. From such points to the Indian villages there ran what seemed not unlike our "ribbon roads"--the two tracks made by the "travail"--the two poles with crossbar that dragged on the ground behind the Indian ponies, upon which a little freight could be loaded. In certain instances such roads as these were to be found running between Indian villages and between villages and hunting grounds. They were the roads of times of peace. The war-time trails were always narrow and usually hard--the times of peace came few and far between. As we have stated, so narrow was the trail, that the traveler was drenched with water from the bushes on either hand. And so "blind"--to use a common pioneer word--were trails when overgrown, that they were difficult to find and more difficult to follow. Though an individual Indian frequently marked his way through the forest, for the benefit of others who were to follow him or for his own guidance in returning, the Indian trails in native state were never blazed. Thus, very narrow, exceedingly crooked, often overgrown, worn a foot or more into the ground, lay the routes on which white men built roads which have become historic. Let us note the first steps toward road-building, chronologically. The first phase of road-making (if it be dignified by such a title) was the broadening of the Indian path by the mere passing of wider loads over it. The beginning of the pack-horse era was announced by the need of greater quantities of merchandise and provisions in the West to which these paths led. The heavier the freight tied on either side of the pack-horse, the more were the bushes bruised and worn away, and the more the bed of the trail was tracked and trampled. The increasing of the fur-trade with the East at the beginning of the last half of the eighteenth century necessitated heavier loads for the trading ponies both "going in" and "coming out"--as the pioneers were wont to say. Up to this time, so far as the present writer's knowledge goes, the Indian never lifted a finger to make his paths better in any one respect; it seems probable that, oftentimes, when a stream was to be crossed, which could not be forded, the Indian bent his steps to the first fallen tree whose trunk made a natural bridge across the water. That an Indian never felled such a tree, it is impossible to say; but no such incident has come within my reading. It seems that this must have happened and perhaps was of frequent occurrence. Our first picture, then, of a "blind" trail is succeeded by one of a trail made rougher and a little wider merely by use; a trail over which perhaps the agents of a Croghan or a Gist pushed westward with more and more heavily-loaded pack-horses than had been customarily seen on the trails thither. Of course such trails as began now to have some appearance of roads were very few. As was true of the local paths in Massachusetts and Connecticut and Virginia, so of the long trails into the interior of the continent, very few answered all purposes. Probably by 1750 three routes, running through southwestern Pennsylvania, central Pennsylvania, and central New York, were worn deep and broad. By broad of course we mean that, in many places, pack-horses could meet and pass without serious danger to their loads. But there were, probably, only these three which at this time answered this description. And the wider and the harder they became, the narrower and the softer grew scores of lesser trails which heretofore had been somewhat traversed. It is not surprising that we find the daring missionary Zeisberger going to the Allegheny River like a beast on all fours through overgrown trails, or that Washington, floundering in the fall of 1784 along the upper Monongahela and Cheat Rivers, was compelled to give up returning to the South Branch (of the Potomac) by way of the ancient path from Dunkards Bottom. "As the path it is said is very blind & exceedingly grown up with briers," wrote Washington, September 25, 1784, in his Journal, "I resolved to try the other Rout, along the New Road to Sandy Creek; ..." This offers a signal instance in which an ancient route had become obsolete. Yet the one Washington pursued was not an Appian Way: "... we started at dawning of day, and passing along a small path much enclosed with weeds and bushes, loaded with Water from the overnights rain & the showers which were continually falling, we had an uncomfortable travel...."[1] Such was the "New Road." The two great roads opened westward by the armies of Washington, Braddock, and Forbes, whose history has been dealt with at length in this series, were opened along the line of trails partially widened by the pack-horses of the Ohio Company's agents (this course having been first marked out by Thomas Cresap) and those of the Pennsylvania traders. Another route led up the Mohawk, along the wide Iroquois Trail, and down the Onondaga to the present Oswego; this was a waterway route primarily, the two rivers (with the portage at Rome) offering more or less facilities for shipping the heavy baggage by batteaus. It was a portage path from the Hudson to Lake Ontario; the old landward trail to Niagara not being opened by an army.[2] Yet Braddock's Road, cut in 1755, was quite filled up with undergrowth in 1758 as we have noted. It was "a brush wood, by the sprouts from the old stumps."[3] In those primeval forests a road narrowed very fast, and quickly became impassable if not constantly cared for. The storms of a single fall or spring month and the heavy clouds of snow on the trees in winter kept the ground beneath well littered with broken limbs and branches. Here and there great trees were thrown by the winds across the traveled ways. And so a military road over which thousands may have passed would become, if left untouched, quite as impassable as the blindest trail in a short time. Other Indian trails which armies never traversed became slightly widened by agents of land companies, as in the case of Boone blazing his way through Cumberland Gap for Richard Henderson. For a considerable distance the path was widened, either by Boone or Martin himself, to Captain Joseph Martin's "station" in Powell's Valley. Thousands of traces were widened by early explorers and settlers who branched off from main traveled ways, or pushed ahead on an old buffalo trail; the path just mentioned, which Washington followed, was a buffalo trail, but had received the name of an early pioneer and was known as "McCulloch's Path." But our second picture holds good through many years--that trail, even though armies had passed over it, was still but a widened trail far down into the early pioneer days. Though wagons went westward with Braddock and Forbes, they were not seen again in the Alleghenies for more than twenty-five years. These were the days of the widened trails, the days of the long strings of jingling ponies bearing patiently westward salt and powder, bars of bended iron, and even mill-stones, and bringing back to the East furs and ginseng. Of this pack-saddle era--this age of the widened trail--very little has been written, and it cannot be passed here without a brief description. In Doddridge's _Notes_ we read: "The acquisition of the indispensable articles of salt, iron, steel and castings presented great difficulties to the first settlers of the western country. They had no stores of any kind, no salt, iron, nor iron works; nor had they money to make purchases where these articles could be obtained. Peltry and furs were their only resources before they had time to raise cattle and horses for sale in the Atlantic states. Every family collected what peltry and fur they could obtain throughout the year for the purpose of sending them over the mountains for barter. In the fall of the year, after seeding time, every family formed an association with some of their neighbors, for starting the little caravan. A master driver was to be selected from among them, who was to be assisted by one or more young men and sometimes a boy or two. The horses were fitted out with pack-saddles, to the latter part of which was fastened a pair of hobbles made of hickory withes--a bell and collar ornamented their necks. The bags provided for the conveyance of the salt were filled with feed for the horses; on the journey a part of this feed was left at convenient stages on the way down, to support the return of the caravan. Large wallets well filled with bread, jerk, boiled ham, and cheese furnished provision for the drivers. At night, after feeding, the horses, whether put in pasture or turned out into the woods, were hobbled and the bells were opened [unstuffed].... Each horse carried [back] two bushels of alum salt, weighing eighty-four pounds to the bushel." Another writer adds: "The caravan route from the Ohio river to Frederick [Maryland] crossed the stupendous ranges of the ... mountains.... The path, _scarcely two feet wide_, and travelled by horses in single file, roamed over hill and dale, through mountain defile, over craggy steeps, beneath impending rocks, and around points of dizzy heights, where one false step might hurl horse and rider into the abyss below. To prevent such accidents, the bulky baggage was removed in passing the dangerous defiles, to secure the horse from being thrown from his scanty foothold.... The horses, with their packs, were marched along in single file, the foremost led by the leader of the caravan, while each successive horse was tethered to the pack-saddle of the horse before him. A driver followed behind, to keep an eye upon the proper adjustment of the packs." The Pennsylvania historian Rupp informs us that in the Revolutionary period "five hundred pack-horses had been at one time in Carlisle [Pennsylvania], going thence to Shippensburg, Fort Loudon, and further westward, loaded with merchandise, also salt, iron, &c. The pack-horses used to carry bars of iron on their backs, crooked over and around their bodies; barrels or kegs were hung on each side of these. Colonel Snyder, of Chambersburg, in a conversation with the writer in August, 1845, said that he cleared many a day from $6 to $8 in crooking or bending iron and shoeing horses for western carriers at the time he was carrying on a blacksmith shop in the town of Chambersburg. The pack-horses were generally led in divisions of 12 or 15 horses, carrying about two hundred weight each ...; when the bridle road passed along declivities or over hills, the path was in some places washed out so deep that the packs or burdens came in contact with the ground or other impending obstacles, and were frequently displaced." Though we have been specifically noticing the Alleghenies we have at the same time described typical conditions that apply everywhere. The widened trail was the same in New England as in Kentucky or Pennsylvania--in fact the same, at one time, in old England as in New England. Travelers between Glasgow and London as late as 1739 found no turnpike till within a hundred miles of the metropolis. Elsewhere they traversed narrow causeways with an unmade, soft road on each side. Strings of pack-horses were occasionally passed, thirty or forty in a train. The foremost horse carried a bell so that travelers in advance would be warned to step aside and make room. The widened pack-horse routes were the main traveled ways of Scotland until a comparatively recent period. "When Lord Herward was sent, in 1760, from Ayrshire to the college at Edinburgh, the road was in such a state that servants were frequently sent forward with poles to sound the depths of the mosses and bogs which lay in their way. The mail was regularly dispatched between Edinburgh and London, on horseback, and went in the course of five or six days." In the sixteenth century carts without springs could not be taken into the country from London; it took Queen Henrietta four days to traverse Watling Street to Dover. Of one of Queen Elizabeth's journeys it is said: "It was marvelous for ease and expedition, for such is the perfect evenness of the new highway that Her Majesty left the coach only once, while the hinds and the folk of baser sort lifted it on their poles!" A traveler in an English coach of 1663 said: "This travel hath soe indisposed mee, yt I am resolved never to ride up againe in ye coatch." Thus the widened trail or bridle-path, as it was commonly known in some parts, was the universal predecessor of the highway. It needs to be observed, however, that winter travel in regions where much snow fell greatly influenced land travel. The buffalo and Indian did not travel in the winter, but white men in early days found it perhaps easier to make a journey on sleds in the snow than at any other time. In such seasons the bridle-paths were, of course, largely followed, especially in the forests; yet in the open, with the snow a foot and more in depth, many short cuts were made along the zig-zag paths and in numerous instances these short cuts became the regular routes thereafter for all time. An interesting instance is found in the "Narrative of Andrew J. Vieau, Sr.:" "This path between Green Bay [Wisconsin] and Milwaukee was originally an Indian trail, and very crooked; but the whites would straighten it by cutting across lots each winter with their jumpers [rude boxes on runners], wearing bare streaks through the thin covering [of snow], to be followed in the summer by foot and horseback travel along the shortened path."[4] This form of traveling was, of course, unknown save only where snow fell and remained upon the ground for a considerable time. Throughout New York State travel on snow was common and in the central portion of the state, where there was much wet ground in the olden time, it was easier to move heavy freight in the winter than in summer when the soft ground was treacherous. Even as late as the building of the Erie Canal in the second and third decades of the nineteenth century--long after the building of the Genesee Road--freight was hauled in the winter in preference to summer. In the annual report of the comissioners of the Erie Canal, dated January 25, 1819, we read that the roads were so wretched between Utica and Syracuse in the summer season that contractors who needed to lay up a supply of tools, provisions, etc., for their men, at interior points, purchased them in the winter before and sent the loads onward to their destinations in sleighs.[5] One of the reasons given by the Erie Canal commissioners for delays and increased expenses in the work on the canal in 1819, in their report delivered to the legislature February 18, 1820, was that the absence of snow in central New York in the winter of 1818-19 prevented the handling of heavy freight on solid roads; "no hard snow path could be found."[6] The soft roads of the summer time were useless so far as heavy loads of lumber, stone, lime, and tools were concerned. No winter picture of early America is so vivid as that presented by the eccentric Evans of New Hampshire, who, dressed in his Esquimau suit, made a midwinter pilgrimage throughout the country lying south of the Great Lakes from Albany to Detroit in 1818.[7] His experiences in moving across the Middle West with the blinding storms, the mountainous drifts of snow, the great icy cascades, the hurrying rivers, buried out of sight in their banks of ice and snow, and the far scattered little settlements lost to the world, helps one realize what traveling in winter meant in the days of the pioneer. The real work of opening roads in America began, of course, on the bridle-paths in the Atlantic slope. In 1639 a measure was passed in the Massachusetts Bay Colony reading: "Whereas the highways in this jurisdiction have not been laid out with such conveniency for travellers as were fit, nor as was intended by this court, but that in some places they are felt too straight, and in other places travelers are forced to go far about, it is therefore, ordered, that all highways shall be laid out before the next general court, so as may be with most ease and safety for travelers; and for this end every town shall choose two or three men, who shall join with two or three of the next town, and these shall have power to lay out the highways in each town where they may be most convenient; and those which are so deputed shall have power to lay out the highways where they may be most convenient, notwithstanding any man's propriety, or any corne ground, so as it occasion not the pulling down of any man's house, or laying open any garden or orchard; and in common [public] grounds, or where the soil is wet or miry, they shall lay out the ways the wider, as six, or eight, or ten rods, or more in common grounds." With the establishment of the government in the province of New York in 1664 the following regulation for road-making was established, which also obtained in Pennsylvania until William Penn's reign began: "In all public works for the safety and defence of the government, or the necessary conveniencies of bridges, highways, and common passengers, the governor or deputy governor and council shall send warrents to any justice, and the justices to the constable of the next town, or any other town within that jurisdiction, to send so many laborers and artificers as the warrent shall direct, which the constable and two others or more of the overseers shall forthwith execute, and the constable and overseers shall have power to give such wages as they shall judge the work to deserve, provided that no ordinary laborer shall be compelled to work from home above one week together. No man shall be compelled to do any public work or service unless the press [impressment] be grounded upon some known law of this government, or an act of the governor and council signifying the necessity thereof, in both which cases a reasonable allowance shall be made." A later amendment indicates the rudeness of these early roads: "The highways to be cleared as followeth, viz., the way to be made clear of standing and lying trees, at least ten feet broad; all stumps and shrubs to be cut close by the ground. The trees marked yearly on both sides--sufficient bridges to be made and kept over all marshy, swampy, and difficult dirty places, and whatever else shall be thought more necessary about the highways aforesaid." In Pennsylvania, under Penn, the grand jury laid out the roads, and the courts appointed overseers and fence-viewers, but in 1692 the townships were given the control of the roads. Eight years later the county roads were put in the hands of the county justices, and king's highways in the hands of the governor and his council. Each county was ordered to erect railed bridges at its expense over rivers, and to appoint its own overseers and fence-viewers. Even the slightest mention of these laws and regulations misrepresents the exact situation. Up to the time of the Revolutionary War it can almost be said that nothing had been done toward what we today know as road-building. Many routes were cleared of "standing and lying trees" and "stumps and shrubs" were cut "close by the ground"--but this only widened the path of the Indian and was only a faint beginning in road-building. The skiff, batteau, and horse attached to a sleigh or sled in winter, were the only, common means of conveying freight or passengers in the colonies at this period. We have spoken of the path across the Alleghenies in 1750 as being but a winding trace; save for the roughness of the territory traversed it was a fair road for its day, seek where the traveler might. In this case, as in so many others, the history of the postal service in the United States affords us most accurate and reliable information concerning our economic development. In the year mentioned, 1750, the mail between New York and Philadelphia was carried only once a week in summer and twice a month in winter. Forty years later there were only eighteen hundred odd miles of post roads in the whole United States. At that time (1790) only five mails a week passed between New York and Philadelphia. It may be said, loosely, that the widened trail became a road when wheeled vehicles began to pass over it. Carts and wagons were common in the Atlantic seaboard states as early and earlier than the Revolution. It was at the close of that war that wagons began to cross the Alleghenies into the Mississippi Basin. This first road was a road in "the state of nature." Nothing had been done to it but clearing it of trees and stumps. Yet what a tremendous piece of work was this. It is more or less difficult for us to realize just how densely wooded a country this was from the crest of the Alleghenies to the seaboard on the east, and from the mountains to central Indiana and Kentucky on the west. The pioneers fought their way westward through wood, like a bullet crushing through a board. Every step was retarded by a live, a dying, or a dead branch. The very trees, as if dreading the savage attack of the white man on the splendid forests of the interior, held out their bony arms and fingers, catching here a jacket and there a foot, in the attempt to stay the invasion of their silent haunts. These forests were very heavy overhead. The boughs were closely matted, in a life-and-death struggle for light and air. The forest vines bound them yet more inextricably together, until it was almost impossible to fell a tree with out first severing the huge arms which were bound fast to its neighbors. This dense overgrowth had an important influence over the pioneer traveler. It made the space beneath dark; the gloom of a real forest is never forgotten by the "tenderfoot" lumberman. The dense covering overhead made the forests extremely hot in the dog days of summer; no one can appreciate what "hot weather" means in a forest where the wind cannot descend through the trees save those who know our oldest forests. What made the forests hot in summer, on the other hand, tended to protect them from winter winds in cold weather. Yet, as a rule, there was little pioneer traveling in the Allegheny forests in winter. From May until November came the months of heaviest traffic on the first widened trails through these gloomy, heated forest aisles. It can be believed there was little tree-cutting on these first pioneer roads. Save in the laurel regions of the Allegheny and Cumberland Mountains, where the forest trees were supplanted by these smaller growths, there was little undergrowth; the absence of sunlight occasioned this, and rendered the old forest more easily traversed than one would suppose after reading many accounts of pioneer life. The principal interruption of travelers on the old trails was in the form of fallen trees and dead wood which had been brought to the ground by the storms. With the exception of the live trees which were blown over, these forms of impediment to travel were not especially menacing; the dead branches crumbled before an ax. The trees which were broken down or uprooted by the winds, however, were obstructions difficult to remove, and tended to make pioneer roads crooked, as often perhaps as standing trees. We can form some practical notion of the dangerous nature of falling trees by studying certain of the great improvements which were early projected in these woods. The Allegheny Portage Railway over the mountains of Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania, and the Erie Canal in central New York, both offer illustrations to the point. The portage track was sent through an unbroken, uninhabited forest wilderness from Hollidaysburg to Johnstown in the twenties. In order to render the inclines safe from falling trees and breaking branches, a swath through the woods was cut one hundred and twenty feet wide.[8] The narrow trellis of the inclines scaled the mountain in the center of this avenue; wide as it was, a tree fifty feet long could have swept it away like paper. The Erie Canal was to be forty feet in width; a clean sixty foot aisle was opened through the forests before the digging could begin. Of course nothing like this could be done for pioneer highways; when the states began to appropriate money for state roads, then the pioneer routes were straightened by cutting some trees. It was all the scattered communities could do before this period to keep the falling trees and branches from blocking the old roads. Travelers wound in and out on one of the many tracks, stumbling, slipping, grinding on the roots, going around great trees that had not been removed, and keeping to the high ground when possible, for there the forest growth was less dense. The question immediately arises, What sort of vehicle could weather such roads? First in the van came the great clumsy cart, having immensely high and solid wooden wheels. These were obtained either by taking a thin slice from the butt of the greatest log that could be found in good condition, or by being built piecemeal by rude carpenters. These great wheels would go safely wherever oxen could draw them, many of their hubs being three feet from the ground. Thus the body of the cart would clear any ordinary brook and river at any ford which horses or oxen could cross. No rocks could severely injure such a massy vehicle, at the rate it usually moved, and no mere rut could disturb its stolid dignity. Like the oxen attached to it, the pioneer cart went on its lumbering way despising everything but bogs, great tree boles and precipices. These creaking carts could proceed, therefore, nearly on the ancient bridle-path of the pack-horse age. On the greater routes westward the introduction of wheeled vehicles necessitated some changes; now and then the deep-worn passage-way was impassable, and detours were made which, at a later day, became the main course. Here, where the widened trail climbed a steeper "hog-back" than usual, the cart-drivers made a roundabout road which was used in dry weather. There, where the old trail wound about a marshy piece of ground in all weathers, the cart-drivers would push on in a straight line during dry seasons. Thus the typical pioneer road even before the day of wagons was a many-track road and should most frequently be called a route--a word we have so frequently used in this series of monographs. Each of the few great historic roads was a route which could have been turned into a three, four, and five track course in very much the same way as railways become double-tracked by uniting a vast number of side-tracks. The most important reason for variation of routes was the wet and dry seasons; in the wet season advantage had to be taken of every practicable altitude. The Indian or foot traveler could easily gain the highest eminence at hand; the pack-horse could reach many but not all; the "travail" and cart could reach many, while the later wagon could climb only a few. In dry weather the low ground offered the easiest and quickest route. As a consequence every great route had what might almost be called its "wet" and "dry" roadways. In one of the early laws quoted we have seen that in wet or miry ground the roads should be laid out "six, eight, or ten rods [wide]," though elsewhere ten or twelve feet was considered a fair width for an early road. As a consequence, even before the day of wagons, the old routes of travel were often very wide, especially in wet places; in wet weather they were broader here than ever. But until the day of wagons the track-beds were not so frequently ruined. Of this it is now time to speak. By 1785 we may believe the great freight traffic by means of wagons had fully begun across the Alleghenies at many points. It is doubtful if anywhere else in the United States did "wagoning" and "wagoners" become so common or do such a thriving trade as on three or four trans-Allegheny routes between 1785 and 1850. The Atlantic Ocean and the rivers had been the arteries of trade between the colonies from the earliest times. The freight traffic by land in the seaboard states had amounted to little save in local cases, compared with the great industry of "freighting" which, about 1785, arose in Baltimore and Philadelphia and concerned the then Central West. This study, like that of our postal history, throws great light on the subject in hand. Road-building, in the abstract, began at the centers of population and spread slowly with the growth of population. For instance, in Revolutionary days Philadelphia was, as it were, a hub and from it a number of important roads, like spokes, struck out in all directions. Comparatively, these were few in number and exceedingly poor, yet they were enough and sufficiently easy to traverse to give Washington a deal of trouble in trying to prevent the avaricious country people from treacherously feeding the British invaders. These roads out from Philadelphia, for instance, were used by wagons longer distances each year. Beginning back at the middle of the eighteenth century it may be said that the wagon roads grew longer and the pack-horse routes or bridle-paths grew shorter each year. The freight was brought from the seaboard cities in wagons to the end of the wagon roads and there transferred to the pack-saddles. Referring to this era we have already quoted a passage in which it is said that five hundred pack-horses have been seen at one time at Carlisle, Pennsylvania. For a longer period than was perhaps true elsewhere, Carlisle was the end of the wagon road westward. A dozen bridle-paths converged here. Here all freight was transferred to the strings of patient ponies. Loudon, Pennsylvania, was another peculiar borderland depot later on. It will be remembered that when Richard Henderson and party advanced to Kentucky in 1775 they were able to use wagons as far as Captain Joseph Martin's "station" in Powell's Valley. At that point all freight had to be transferred to the backs of ponies for the climb over the Cumberlands. In the days of Marcus Whitman, who opened the first road across the Rocky Mountains, Fort Laramie, Wyoming, was the terminus of wagon travel in the far West. Thus pioneer roads unfolded, as it were, joint by joint, the rapidity depending on the volume of traffic, increase of population, and topography. [Illustration: OLD CONESTOGA FREIGHTER] The first improvement on these greater routes, after the necessary widening, was to enable wagons to avoid high ground. Here and there wagons pushed on beyond the established limit, and, finding the way not more desperate than much of the preceding "road," had gone on and on, until at last wagons came down the western slopes of the Alleghenies, and wagon traffic began to be considered possible--much to the chagrin of the cursing pack-horse men. No sooner was this fact accomplished than some attention was paid to the road. The wagons could not go everywhere the ponies or even the heavy carts had gone. They could not climb the steep knolls and remain on the rocky ridges. The lower grounds were, therefore, pursued and the wet grounds were made passable by "corduroying"--laying logs closely together to form a solid roadbed. So far as I can learn this work was done by everybody in particular and nobody in general. Those who were in charge of wagons were, of course, the most interested in keeping them from sinking out of sight in the mud-holes. When possible, such places were skirted; when high or impassable ground prevented this, the way was "corduroyed." We have spoken of the width of old-time bridle-paths; with the advent of the heavy freighter these wide routes were doubled and trebled in width. And, so long as the roadbeds remained in a "state of nature," the heavier the wagon traffic, the wider the roads became. We have described certain great tracks, like that of Braddock's Road, which can be followed today even in the open by the lasting marks those plunging freighters made in the soft ground. They suggest in their deep outline what the old wagon roads must have been; yet it must be remembered that only what we may call the main road is visible today--the innumerable side-tracks being obliterated because not so deeply worn. In a number of instances on Braddock's Road plain evidence remains of these side-tracks. Judging then from this evidence, and from accounts which have come down to us, the introduction of the freighter with its heavier loads and narrower wheels turned the wide, deeply worn bridle-paths and cart tracks into far wider and far deeper courses. The corduroy road had a tendency to contract the route, but even here, where the ground was softest, it became desperate traveling. Where one wagon had gone, leaving great black ruts behind it, another wagon would pass with greater difficulty leaving behind it yet deeper and yet more treacherous tracks. Heavy rains would fill each cavity with water, making the road nothing less than what in Illinois was known as a "sloo." The next wagoner would, therefore, push his unwilling horses into a veritable slough, perhaps having explored it with a pole to see if there was a bottom to be found there. In some instances the bottoms "fell out," and many a reckless driver has lost his load in pushing heedlessly into a bottomless pit. In case a bottom could be found the driver pushes on; if not, he finds a way about; if this is not possible he throws logs into the hole and makes an artificial bottom over which he proceeds. We can hardly imagine what it meant to get stalled on one of the old "hog wallow" roads on the frontier. True, many of our country roads today offer bogs quite as wide and deep as any ever known in western Virginia or Pennsylvania; and it is equally true that roads were but little better in the pioneer era on the outskirts of Philadelphia and Baltimore than far away in the mountains. It remains yet for the present writer to find a sufficiently barbarous incident to parallel one which occurred on the Old York (New York) Road just out of Philadelphia, in which half a horse's head was pulled off in attempting to haul a wagon from a hole in the road. "Jonathan Tyson, a farmer of 68 years of age [in 1844], of Abington, saw, at 16 years of age, much difficulty in going to the city [Philadelphia on York Road]: a dreadful mire of blackish mud rested near the present Rising Sun village.... He saw there the team of Mr. Nickum, of Chestnut hill, stalled; and in endeavoring to draw out the forehorse with an iron chain to his head, it slipped and tore off the lower jaw, and the horse died on the spot. There was a very bad piece of road nearer to the city, along the front of the Norris estate. It was frequent to see there horses struggling in mire to their knees. Mr. Tyson has seen thirteen lime wagons at a time stopped on the York road, near Logan's hill, to give one another assistance to draw through the mire; and the drivers could be seen with their trowsers rolled up, and joining team to team to draw out; at other times they set up a stake in the middle of the road to warn off wagons from the quicksand pits. Sometimes they tore down fences, and made new roads through the fields."[9] If such was the case almost within the city limits of Philadelphia, it is not difficult to realize what must have been the conditions which obtained far out on the continental routes. It became a serious problem to get stalled in the mountains late in the day; assistance was not always at hand--indeed the settlements were many miles apart in the early days. Many a driver, however, has been compelled to wade in, unhitch his horses, and spend the night by the bog into which his freight was settling lower and lower each hour. Fortunate he was if early day brought assistance. Sometimes it was necessary to unload wholly or in part, before a heavy wagon, once fairly "set," could be hauled out. Around such treacherous places ran a vast number of routes some of which were as dangerous--because used once too often--as the central track. In some places detours of miles in length could be made. A pilot was needed by every inexperienced person, and many blundering wiseacres lost their entire stock of worldly possessions in the old bogs and "sloos" and swamps of the "West." A town in Indiana was "very appropriately" named Mudholes, a name that would have been the most common in the country a century ago if only descriptive names had been allowed.[10] The condition of pioneer roads did, undoubtedly, influence the beginnings of towns and cities. On the longer routes it will be found that the steep hills almost invariably became the sites of villages because of physical conditions. "Long-a-coming," a New Jersey village, bore a very appropriate name.[11] The girls of Sussex, England, were said to be exceedingly long-limbed, and a facetious wag affirmed the reason to be that the Sussex mud was so deep and sticky that in drawing out the foot "by the strength of the ancle" the muscles, and then the bones, of the leg were lengthened! In 1708 when Prince George of Denmark went to meet Charles the Seventh of Spain traveling by coach, he traveled at the rate of nine miles in six hours--a tribute to the strength of Sussex mud. Charles Augustus Murray, in his _Travels in North America_, leaves us a humorous account of the mud-holes in the road from the Potomac to Fredericksburg, Maryland, and his experience upon it: "On the 27th of March I quitted Washington, to make a short tour in the districts of Virginia adjacent to the James River; comprising Richmond, the present capital, Williamsburgh, the former seat of colonial government, Norfolk, and other towns. "The first part of the journey is by steam-boat, descending the Potomac about sixty miles. The banks of this river, after passing Mount Vernon, are uninteresting, and I did not regret the speed of the Champion, which performed that distance in somewhat less than five hours; but this rate of travelling was amply neutralized by the movement of the stage which conveyed me from the landing-place to Fredericsburgh. I was informed that the distance was only twelve miles, and I was weak enough (in spite of my previous experience) to imagine that two hours would bring me thither, especially as the stage was drawn by six good nags, and driven by a lively cheerful fellow; but the road bade defiance to all these advantages--it was, indeed, such as to compel me to laugh out-right, notwithstanding the constant and severe bumping to which it subjected both the intellectual and sedentary parts of my person. "I had before tasted the sweets of mud-holes, huge stones, and remnants of pine-trees standing and cut down; but here was something new, namely, a bed of reddish-coloured clay, from one to two feet deep, so adhesive that the wheels were at times literally not visible in any one spot from the box to the tire, and the poor horses' feet sounded, when they drew them out (as a fellow-traveller observed), like the report of a pistol. I am sorry that I was not sufficiently acquainted with chemistry or mineralogy to analyze that wonderful clay and state its constituent parts; but if I were now called upon to give a receipt for a mess most nearly resembling it, I would write, 'Recipe--(nay, I must write the ingredients in English, for fear of taxing my Latin learning too severely)-- Ordinary clay 1 lb. Do. Pitch 1 lb. Bird-lime 6 oz. Putty 6 oz. Glue 1 lb. Red lead, or _colouring_ matter 6 oz. Fiat haustus--ægrot. terq. quaterq. quatiend.' "Whether the foregoing, with a proper admixture of hills, holes, stumps, and rocks, made a satisfactory _draught_ or not, I will refer to the unfortunate team--I, alas! can answer for the effectual application of the second part of the prescription, according to the Joe Miller version of 'When taken, to be well shaken!' "I arrived, however, without accident or serious bodily injury, at Fredericsburgh, having been _only_ three hours and a half in getting over the said twelve miles; and, in justice to the driver, I must say that I very much doubt whether any crack London whip could have driven those horses over that ground in the same time: there is not a sound that can emanate from human lungs, nor an argument of persuasion that can touch the feelings of a horse, that he did not employ, with a perseverance and success which commanded my admiration." Fancy these wild, rough routes which, combined, often covered half an acre, and sometimes spread out to a mile in total width, in freezing weather when every hub and tuft was as solid as ice. How many an anxious wagoner has pushed his horses to the bitter edge of exhaustion to gain his destination ere a freeze would stall him as completely as if his wagon-bed lay on the surface of a "quicksand pit." A heavy load could not be sent over a frozen pioneer road without wrecking the vehicle. Yet in some parts the freight traffic had to go on in the winter, as the hauling of cotton to market in the southern states. Such was the frightful condition of the old roads that four and five yoke of oxen conveyed only a ton of cotton so slowly that motion was almost imperceptible; and in the winter and spring, it has been said, with perhaps some tinge of truthfulness, that one could walk on dead oxen from Jackson to Vicksburg. The Bull-skin Road of pioneer days leading from the Pickaway Plains in Ohio to Detroit was so named from the large number of cattle which died on the long, rough route, their hides, to exaggerate again, lining the way. In our study of the Ohio River as a highway it was possible to emphasize the fact that the evolution of river craft indicated with great significance the evolution of social conditions in the region under review; the keel-boat meant more than canoe or pirogue, the barge or flat-boat more than the keel-boat, the brig and schooner more than the barge, and the steamboat far more than all preceding species. We affirmed that the change of craft on our rivers was more rapid than on land, because of the earlier adaptation of steam to vessels than to vehicles. But it is in point here to observe that, slow as were the changes on land, they were equally significant. The day of the freighter and the corduroy road was a brighter day for the expanding nation than that of the pack-horse and the bridle-path. The cost of shipping freight by pack-horses was tremendous. In 1794, during the Whiskey Insurrection in western Pennsylvania, the cost of shipping goods to Pittsburg by wagon ranged from five to ten dollars per hundred pounds; salt sold for five dollars a bushel, and iron and steel from fifteen to twenty cents per pound in Pittsburg. What must have been the price when one horse carried only from one hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty pounds? The freighter represented a growing population and the growing needs of the new empire in the West. The advent of the stagecoach marked a new era as much in advance of the old as was the day of the steamboat in advance of that of the barge and brig of early days. The social disturbance caused by the introduction of coaches on the pioneer roads of America gives us a glimpse of road conditions at this distant day to be gained no other way. A score of local histories give incidents showing the anger of those who had established the more important pack-horse lines across the continent at the coming of the stage. Coaches were overturned and passengers were maltreated; horses were injured, drivers were chastised and personal property ruined. Even while the Cumberland Road was being built the early coaches were in danger of assault by the workmen building the road, incited, no doubt, by the angry pack-horse men whose profession had been eclipsed. It is interesting in this connection to look again back to the mother-country and note the unrest which was occasioned by the introduction of stagecoaches on the bridle-paths of England. Early coaching there was described as destructive to trade, prejudicial to landed interests, destructive to the breed of horses,[11*] and as an interference with public resources. It was urged that travelers in coaches got listless, "not being able to endure frost, snow or rain, or to lodge in the fields!" Riding in coaches injured trade since "most gentlemen, before they travelled in coaches, used to ride with swords, belts, pistols, holsters, portmanteaus, and hat-cases, which, in these coaches, they have little or no occasion for: for, when they rode on horseback, they rode in one suit and carried another to wear when they came to their journey's end, or lay by the way; but in coaches a silk suit and an Indian gown, with a sash, silk stockings, and beaver hats, men ride in and carry no other with them, because they escape the wet and dirt, which on horseback they cannot avoid; whereas in two or three journeys on horseback, these clothes and hats were wont to be spoiled; which done, they were forced to have new very often, and that increased the consumption of the manufacturers; which travelling in coaches doth in no way do." If the pack-horse man's side of the question was not advocated with equally marvelous arguments in America we can be sure there was no lack of debate on the question whether the stagecoach was a sign of advancement or of deterioration. For instance, the mails could not be carried so rapidly by coach as by a horseman; and when messages were of importance in later days they were always sent by an express rider. The advent of the wagon and coach promised to throw hundreds of men out of employment. Business was vastly facilitated when the freighter and coach entered the field, but fewer "hands" were necessary. Again, the horses which formerly carried the freight of America on their backs were not of proper build and strength to draw heavy loads on either coach or wagon. They were ponies; they could carry a few score pounds with great skill over blind and ragged paths, but they could not draw the heavy wagons. Accordingly hundreds of owners of pack-horses were doomed to see an alarming deterioration in the value of their property when great, fine coach horses were shipped from distant parts to carry the freight and passenger loads of the stagecoach day. The change in form of American vehicles was small but their numbers increased within a few years prodigiously. Nominally this era must be termed that of the macadamized road, or roads made of layers of broken stone like the Cumberland Road. These roads were wider than any single track of any of the routes they followed, though thirty feet was the average maximum breadth. To a greater degree than would be surmised, the courses of the old roads were followed. It has been said that the Cumberland Road, though paralleling Braddock's Road from Cumberland to Laurel Hill, was not built on its bed more than a mile in the aggregate. After studying the ground I believe this is more or less incorrect; for what we should call Braddock's route was composed of many roads and tracks. One of these was a central road; the Cumberland Road may have been built on the bed of this central track only a short distance, but on one of the almost innumerable side-tracks, detours, and cut-offs, for many miles. At Great Meadows, for instance, it would seem that the Cumberland Road was separated from Braddock's by the width of the valley; yet as you move westward you cross the central track of Braddock's Road just before reaching Braddock's Grave. May not an old route have led from Great Meadows thither on the same hillside where we find the Cumberland Road today? The crookedness of these first stable roads, like many of the older streets in our cities,[12] indicates that the old corduroy road served in part as a guide for the later road-makers. It is a common thing in the mountains, either on the Cumberland or Pennsylvania state roads, to hear people say that had the older routes been even more strictly adhered to better grades would have been the result. A remarkable and truthful instance of this (for there cannot, in truth, be many) is the splendid way Braddock's old road sweeps to the top of Laurel Hill by gaining that strategic ridge which divides the heads of certain branches of the Youghiogheny on the one hand and Cheat River on the other near Washington's Rock. The Cumberland Road in the valley gains the same height (Laurel Hill) by a longer and far more difficult route. The stagecoach heralded the new age of road-building, but these new macadamized roads were few and far between; many roadways were widened and graded by states or counties, but they remained dirt roads; a few plank roads were built. The vast number of roads of better grade were built by one of the host of road and turnpike companies which sprang up in the first half of the nineteenth century. Specific mention of certain of these will be made later. Confining our view here to general conditions, we now see the Indian trail at its broadest. While the roads, in number, kept up with the vast increase of population, in quality they remained, as a rule, unchanged. Traveling by stage, except on the half dozen good roads then in existence, was, in 1825, far more uncomfortable than on the bridle-path on horseback half a century previous. It would be the same today if we could find a vehicle as inconvenient as an old-time stagecoach. In our "Experiences of Travelers" we shall give pictures of actual life on these pioneer roads of early days. A glimpse or two at these roads will not be out of place here. The route from Philadelphia to Baltimore is thus described by the _American Annual Register_ for 1796: "The roads from Philadelphia to Baltimore exhibit, for the greater part of the way, an aspect of savage desolation. Chasms to the depth of six, eight, or ten feet occur at numerous intervals. A stagecoach which left Philadelphia on the 5th of February, 1796, took five days to go to Baltimore. [Twenty miles a day]. The weather for the first four days was good. The roads are in a fearful condition. Coaches are overturned, passengers killed, and horses destroyed by the overwork put upon them. In winter sometimes no stage sets out for two weeks." Little wonder that in 1800, when President and Mrs. Adams tried to get to Washington from Baltimore, they got lost in the Maryland woods! Harriet Martineau, with her usual cleverness, thus touches upon our early roads: "... corduroy roads appear to have made a deep impression on the imaginations of the English, who seem to suppose that American roads are all corduroy. I can assure them that there is a large variety in American roads. There are the excellent limestone roads ... from Nashville, Tennessee, and some like them in Kentucky.... There is quite another sort of limestone road in Virginia, in traversing which the stage is dragged up from shelf [catch-water] to shelf, some of the shelves sloping so as to throw the passengers on one another, on either side alternately. Then there are the rich mud roads of Ohio, through whose deep red sloughs the stage goes slowly sousing after rain, and gently upsetting when the rut on one or the other side proves to be of a greater depth than was anticipated. Then there are the sandy roads of the pine barrens ... the ridge road, running parallel with a part of Lake Ontario.... Lastly there is the corduroy road, happily of rare occurrence, where, if the driver is merciful to his passengers, he drives them so as to give them the association of being on the way to a funeral, their involuntary sobs on each jolt helping the resemblance; or, if he be in a hurry, he shakes them like pills in a pill-box. I was never upset in a stage but once ...; and the worse the roads were, the more I was amused at the variety of devices by which we got on, through difficulties which appeared insurmountable, and the more I was edified at the gentleness with which our drivers treated female fears and fretfulness."[13] Perhaps it was of the Virginian roads here mentioned that Thomas Moore wrote: "Dear George! though every bone is aching, After the shaking I've had this week, over ruts and ridges, And bridges, Made of a few uneasy planks, In open ranks Over rivers of mud, whose names alone Would make the knees of stoutest man knock."[14] David Stevenson, an English civil engineer, leaves this record of a corduroy road from Lake Erie to Pittsburg: "On the road leading from Pittsburg on the Ohio to the town of Erie on the lake of that name, I saw all the varieties of forest road-making in great perfection. Sometimes our way lay for miles through extensive marshes, which we crossed by corduroy roads, ...; at others the coach stuck fast in the mud, from which it could be extricated only by the combined efforts of the coachman and passengers; and at one place we travelled for upwards of a quarter of a mile through a forest flooded with water, which stood to the height of several feet on many of the trees, and occasionally covered the naves of the coach-wheels. The distance of the route from Pittsburg to Erie is 128 miles, which was accomplished in forty-six hours ... although the conveyance ... carried the mail, and stopped only for breakfast, dinner, and tea, but there was considerable delay caused by the coach being once upset and several times mired."[15] "The horrible corduroy roads again made their appearance," records Captain Basil Hall, "in a more formidable shape, by the addition of deep, inky holes, which almost swallowed up the fore wheels of the wagon and bathed its hinder axle-tree. The jogging and plunging to which we were now exposed, and occasionally the bang when the vehicle reached the bottom of one of these abysses, were so new and remarkable that we tried to make a good joke of them.... I shall not compare this evening's drive to trotting up or down a pair of stairs, for, in that case, there would be some kind of regularity in the development of the bumps, but with us there was no wavering, no pause, and when we least expected a jolt, down we went, smack! dash! crash! forging, like a ship in a head-sea, right into a hole half a yard deep. At other times, when an ominous break in the road seemed to indicate the coming mischief, and we clung, grinning like grim death, to the railing at the sides of the wagon, expecting a concussion which in the next instant was to dislocate half the joints in our bodies, down we sank into a bed of mud, as softly as if the bottom and sides had been padded for our express accommodation." The first and most interesting macadamized road in the United States was the old Lancaster Turnpike, running from Philadelphia to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Its position among American roads is such that it deserves more than a mere mention. It has had several historians, as it well deserves, to whose accounts we are largely indebted for much of our information.[16] The charter name of this road was "The Philadelphia and Lancaster Turnpike Road Company;" it was granted April 9, 1792, and the work of building immediately began. The road was completed in 1794 at a cost of four hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars. When the subscription books were opened there was a tremendous rush to take the stock. The money raised for constructing and equipping this ancient highway with toll houses and bridges, as well as grading and macadamizing it, was by this sale of stock. In the Lancaster _Journal_ of Friday, February 5, 1796, the following notice appeared: "That agreeable to a by-law of stockholders, subscriptions will be opened at the Company's office in Philadelphia on Wednesday, the tenth of February next, for one hundred additional shares of capital stock in said company. The sum to be demanded for each share will be $300, with interest at six per cent. on the different instalments from the time they are severally called for, to be paid by original stockholders; one hundred dollars thereof to be paid at time of subscribing, and the remainder in three equal payments, at 30, 60 and 90 days, no person to be admitted to subscribe more than one share on the same day. By order of the Board. WILLIAM GOVETT, Secretary." "When location was fully determined upon," writes Mr. Witmer, "as you will observe, today, a more direct line could scarcely have been selected. Many of the curves which are found at the present time did not exist at that day, for it has been crowded and twisted by various improvements along its borders so that the original constructors are not responsible. So straight, indeed, was it from initial to terminal point that it was remarked by one of the engineers of the state railroad, constructed in 1834 (and now known as the Pennsylvania Railroad), that it was with the greatest difficulty that they kept their line off of the turnpike, and the subsequent experiences of the engineers of the same company verify the fact, as you will see. Today there is a tendency, wherever the line is straightened, to draw nearer to this old highway, paralleling it in many places for quite a distance, and as it approaches the city of Philadelphia, in one or two instances they have occupied the old road bed entirely, quietly crowding its old rival to a side, and crossing and recrossing it in many places. "You will often wonder as you pass over this highway, remembering the often-stated fact by some ancient wagoner or stage-driver (who today is scarcely to be found, most of them having thrown down the reins and put up for the night), that at that time there were almost continuous lines of Conestoga wagons, with their feed troughs suspended at the rear and the tar can swinging underneath, toiling up the long hills (for you will observe there was very little grading done when that roadway was constructed), and you wonder how it was possible to accommodate so much traffic as there was, in addition to stagecoaches and private conveyances, winding in and out among these long lines of wagons. But you must bear in mind that the roadway was very different then from what it is at the present time. "The narrow, macadamized surface, with its long grassy slope (the delight of the tramp and itinerant merchant, especially when a neighboring tree casts a cooling shadow over its surface), which same slope becomes a menace to belated and unfamiliar travelers on a dark night, threatening them with an overturn into what of more recent times is known as the Summer road, did not exist at that time, but the road had a regular slope from side ditch to center, as all good roads should have, and conveyances could pass anywhere from side to side. The macadam was carefully broken and no stone was allowed to be placed on the road that would not pass through a two-inch ring. A test was made which can be seen today about six miles east of Lancaster, where the roadway was regularly paved for a distance of one hundred feet from side to side, with a view of constructing the entire line in that way. But it proved too expensive, and was abandoned. Day, in his history, published in 1843,[17] makes mention of the whole roadway having been so constructed, but I think that must have been an error, as this is the only point where there is any appearance of this having been attempted, and can be seen at the present time when the upper surface has been worn off by the passing and repassing over it." The placing of tollgates on the Lancaster Pike is thus announced in the Lancaster _Journal_, previously mentioned, where the following notice appears: "The public are hereby informed that the President and Managers of the Philadelphia and Lancaster Turnpike Road having perfected the very arduous and important work entrusted by the stockholders to their direction, have established toll gates at the following places on said road, and have appointed a toll gatherer at each gate, and that the rates of toll to be collected at the several gates are by resolution of the Board and agreeable to Act of Assembly fixed and established as below. The total distance from Lancaster to Philadelphia is 62 miles. Gate No. 1--2 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 3 miles Gate No. 2--5 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 5 miles Gate No. 3--10 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 7 miles Gate No. 4--20 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 10 miles Gate No. 5--29-1/2 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 10 miles Gate No. 6--40 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 10 miles Gate No. 7--49-1/2 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 10 miles Gate No. 8--58-1/8 miles W from Schuylkill, collect 5 miles Gate No. 9--Witmer's Bridge, collect 61 miles." There is also in the same journal, bearing date January 22, 1796, the following notice: "Sec. 13. And be it further enacted, by authority of aforesaid, that no wagon or other carriage with wheels the breadth of whose wheels shall not be four inches, shall be driven along said road between the first day of December and the first day of May following in any year or years, with a greater weight thereon than two and a half tons, or with more than three tons during the rest of the year; that no such carriage, the breadth of whose wheels shall not be seven inches, or being six inches or more shall roll at least ten inches, shall be drawn along said road between the said day of December and May with more than five tons, or with more than five and a half tons during the rest of the year; that no carriage or cart with two wheels, the breadth of whose wheels shall not be four inches, shall be drawn along said road with a greater weight thereon than one and a quarter tons between the said first days of December and May, or with more than one and a half tons during the rest of the year; no such carriage, whose wheels shall be of the breadth of seven inches shall be driven along the said road with more than two and one half tons between the first days of December and May, or more than three tons during the rest of the year; that no such carriage whose wheels shall not be ten inches in width shall be drawn along the said road between the first days of December and May with more than three and a half tons, or with more than four tons the rest of the year; that no cart, wagon or carriage of burden whatever, whose wheels shall not be the breadth of nine inches at least, shall be drawn or pass in or over the said road or any part thereof with more than six horses, nor shall more than eight horses be attached to any carriage whatsoever used on said road, and if any wagon or other carriage shall be drawn along said road by a greater number of horses or with a greater weight than is hereby permitted, one of the horses attached thereto shall be forfeited to the use of said company, to be seized and taken by any of their officers or servants, who shall have the privilege to choose which of the said horses they may think proper, excepting the shaft or wheel horse or horses, provided always that it shall and may be lawful for said company by their by-laws to alter any and all of the regulations here contained respecting burdens or carriages to be drawn over the said road and substituting other regulations, if on experience such alterations should be found conducive of public good." There were regular warehouses or freight stations in the various towns through which the Lancaster Pike passed, Mr. Witmer leaves record, where experienced loaders or packers were to be found who attended to filling these great curving wagons, which were elevated at each end and depressed in the centre; and it was quite an art to be able to so pack them with the various kinds of merchandise that they would carry safely, and at the same time to economize all the room necessary; and when fully loaded and ready for the journey it was no unusual case for the driver to be appealed to by some one who wished to follow Horace Greeley's advice and "go west," for permission to accompany him and earn a seat on the load, as well as share his mattress on the barroom floor at night by tending the lock or brake. Mr. Witmer was told by one of the largest and wealthiest iron masters of Pittsburg that his first advent to the Smoky City was on a load of salt in that capacity. "In regard to the freight or transportation companies," continues the annalist, "the Line Wagon Company was the most prominent. Stationed along this highway at designated points were drivers and horses, and it was their duty to be ready as soon as a wagon was delivered at the beginning of their section to use all despatch in forwarding it to the next one, thereby losing no time required to rest horses and driver, which would be required when the same driver and horses took charge of it all the way through. But, like many similar schemes, what appeared practical in theory did not work well in practice. Soon the wagons were neglected, each section caring only to deliver it to the one succeeding, caring little as to its condition, and soon the roadside was encumbered with wrecks and breakdowns and the driver and horses passed to and fro without any wagon or freight from terminal points of their sections, leaving the wagons and freight to be cared for by others more anxious for its removal than those directly in charge. So it was deemed best to return to the old system of making each driver responsible for his own wagon and outfit. "A wagoner, next to a stagecoach-driver, was a man of immense importance, and they were inclined to be clannish. They would not hesitate to unite against landlord, stage-driver or coachman who might cross their path, as in a case when a wedding party was on its way to Philadelphia, which consisted of several gigs. These were two-wheeled conveyances, very similar to our road-carts of the present day, except that they were much higher and had large loop springs in the rear just back of the seat; they were the fashionable conveyance of that day. When one of the gentlemen drivers, the foremost one (possibly the groom), was paying more attention to his fair companion than his horses, he drove against the leaders of one of the numerous wagons that were passing on in the same direction. It was an unpardonable offense and nothing short of an encounter in the stable yard or in front of the hotel could atone for such a breach of highway ethics. At a point where the party stopped to rest before continuing their journey the wagoners overtook them and they immediately called on the gentleman for redress. But seeing a friend in the party they claimed they would excuse the culprit on his friend's account; the offending party would not have it so, and said no friend of his should excuse him from getting a beating if he deserved it, and I have no doubt he prided himself on his muscular abilities also. However it was peaceably arranged and each pursued his way without any blood being shed or bones broken. That was one of the many similar occurrences which happened daily, many not ending so harmlessly. "The stage lines were not only the means of conveying the mails and passengers, but of also disseminating the news of great events along the line as they passed. The writer remembers hearing it stated that the stage came through from Philadelphia with a wide band of white muslin bound around the top, and in large letters was the announcement that peace had been declared, which was the closing of the second war with Great Britain, known as the War of 1812. What rejoicing it caused along the way as it passed!" [Illustration: EARLIEST STYLE OF LOG TAVERN] The taverns of this old turnpike were typical. Of them Mr. Moore writes: "Independent of the heavy freighting, numerous stage lines were organized for carrying passengers. As a result of this immense traffic, hotels sprung up all along the road, where relays of horses were kept, and where passengers were supplied with meals. Here, too, the teamsters found lodging and their animals were housed and cared for over night. The names of these hotels were characteristic of the times. Many were called after men who had borne conspicuous parts in the Revolutionary War that had just closed--such as Washington, Warren, Lafayette, and Wayne, while others represented the White and Black Horse, the Lion, Swan, Cross Keys, Ship, etc. They became favorite resorts for citizens of their respective neighborhoods, who wished at times to escape from the drudge and ennui of their rural homes and gaze upon the world as represented by the dashing stages and long lines of Conestoga wagons. Here neighbor met neighbor--it was the little sphere in which they all moved, lived and had their being. They sipped their whisky toddies together, which were dispensed at the rate of three cents a single glass, or for a finer quality, five for a Spanish quarter, with the landlord in, was asked; smoked cigars that were retailed four for a cent--discussed their home affairs, including politics, religion and other questions of the day, and came just as near settling them, as the present generation of men, that are filling their places, required large supplies and made convenient home markets for the sale of butter, eggs, and whatever else the farmers had to dispose of." In our history of the Cumberland Road the difference between a wagonhouse and a tavern was emphasized. Mr. Witmer gives an incident on the Lancaster Turnpike which presents vividly the social position of these two houses of entertainment: "It was considered a lasting disgrace for one of the stage taverns to entertain a wagoner and it was sure to lose the patronage of the better class of travel, should this become known. The following instance will show how carefully the line was drawn. In the writer's native village, about ten miles east of this city [Lancaster], when the traffic was unusually heavy and all the wagon taverns were full, a wagoner applied to the proprietor of the stage hotel for shelter and refreshment, and after a great deal of consideration on his part and persuasion on the part of the wagoner he consented, provided the guest would take his departure early in the morning, before there was any likelihood of any aristocratic arrivals, or the time for the stage to arrive at this point. As soon as he had taken his departure the hostlers and stable boys were put to work to clean up every vestige of straw or litter in front of the hotel that would be an indication of having entertained a wagoner over night!" The later history of the turnpike has been sketched by Mr. Moore as follows: "The turnpike company had enjoyed an uninterrupted era of prosperity for more than twenty-five years. During this time the dividends paid had been liberal--sometimes, it is said, exceeding fifteen per cent of the capital invested. But at the end of that time the parasite that destroys was gradually being developed. Another, and altogether new system of transportation had been invented--a railroad--and which had already achieved partial success in some places in Europe. It was about the year 1820 that this new method of transportation began to claim the serious attention of the progressive business men throughout the state. The feeling that some better system than the one in use must be found was fed and intensified by the fact that New York State was then constructing a canal from Albany to the lakes; that when completed it would give the business men of New York City an unbroken water route to the west.... "With the completion of the entire Pennsylvania canal system to Pittsburg, in 1834, the occupation of the famous old Conestoga teams was gone.[18] The same may also be said of the numerous lines of the stages that daily wended their way over the turnpike. The changes wrought were almost magical. Everyone who rode patronized the cars; and the freight was also forwarded by rail. The farmers, however, were not ruined as they had maintained they would be. Their horses, as well as drivers, were at once taken into the railway service and employed in drawing cars from one place to another. It was simply a change of vocation, and there still remained a market for grain, hay, straw and other produce of the farm. "The loss sustained by the holders of turnpike stock, however, was immeasurable. In a comparative sense, travel over the turnpike road was suspended. Receipts from tolls became very light and the dividends, when paid, were not only quite diminutive, but very far between. "The officers of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company have always been noted for their foresight, as well as shrewdness in protecting the business interests of their organization--and none have given more substantial evidence of these traits than its present chief officer, Mr. Alexander Cassatt. In the year 1876 the horse cars had been extended as far west as the Centennial buildings and it became apparent in a year or two thereafter that they might be still further extended over the turnpike in the direction of Paoli and thus become an annoying competitor for the local travel, which had been carefully nurtured and built up by the efforts of the railroad company. Under the leadership of Mr. Cassatt a company was organized to purchase the road. When all the preliminaries had been arranged a meeting of the subscribers to the purchasing fund was held on the twentieth day of April, 1880. The turnpike was purchased from Fifty-second Street to Paoli, about seventeen miles, for the sum of twenty thousand dollars. In the following June a charter was secured for the 'Lancaster Avenue Improvement Company,' and Mr. Cassatt was chosen president. The horse railroad was thus shut off from a further extension over the old turnpike. The new purchasers rebuilt the entire seventeen miles and there is today probably no better macadam road in the United States, nor one more scrupulously maintained than by 'The Lancaster Avenue Improvement Company.' Some parts of the turnpike road finally became so much out of repair that the traveling public refused to longer pay the tolls demanded. This was the case on that portion of the road lying between Paoli and Exton, a distance of some eight and a half miles. It traversed parts of the townships of Willistown and East and West Whiteland, in Chester County and upon notice of abandonment being served in 1880 upon the supervisors of these townships, those officials assumed the future care of the road. The turnpike was also abandoned from the borough of Coatesville to the Lancaster County line, a distance of about eight and one-half miles. This left only that portion of the turnpike lying between Exton station and the borough of Coatesville, a distance of some ten miles, under control of the old company, and upon which tollgates were maintained. The road was in a wretched repair and many persons driving over it refused to pay when tolls were demanded. The company, however, continued to employ collectors and gather shekels from those who were willing to pay and suffering those to pass who refused. "Thus the old company worried along and maintained its organization until 1899, when the 'Philadelphia and West Chester Traction Company,' made its appearance. This company thought it saw an opportunity to extend the railroad west over the turnpike at least as far as Downingtown, and possibly as far as the borough of Coatesville. Terms were finally agreed upon with the president of the Turnpike Company, and all the rights, titles and interests in the road then held by the original Turnpike Company, and which embraced that portion lying between Exton and the borough of Coatesville, were transferred to Mr. A. M. Taylor, as trustee, for ten dollars per share. The original issue was twelve hundred shares. It was estimated that at least two hundred shares would not materialize, being either lost or kept as souvenirs. The length of the road secured was about ten miles. The disposition of the old road may be enumerated as follows: SOLD To Hestonville Railroad 3 $10,000 To Lancaster and Williamstown Turnpike Company 15 10,000 To Lancaster Avenue Improvement Company 17 20,000 To A. M. Taylor, trustee (estimated) 10 10,000 -- ------ Total miles sold 45 Total purchase money received $50,000 ABANDONED Paoli to Exton 8-1/2 Coatesville to Lancaster Company line 8-1/2 ------ Total miles abandoned 17 "The distance from Coatesville to Philadelphia, via Whitford, a station on the Pennsylvania Railroad ten miles east of Coatesville, thence to West Chester and over the electric road, is somewhat less than by the Pennsylvania Railroad. Immediately after the purchase, Mr. Taylor announced that it was the intention of his company to extend their road to Downingtown, and, possibly, to Coatesville. But a charter for a trolley road does not carry with it the right of eminent domain. Upon investigation, Mr. Taylor discovered that the Pennsylvania Railroad Company owned property on both sides of the purchased turnpike, and that without the consent of that organization a trolley road could not be laid over the turnpike. He further discovered that at a point west of Downingtown the railroad company, in connection with one of its employees, owned a strip of land extending from the Valley Hill on the north to the Valley Hill on the south. The proposed extension of the trolley road, therefore, had to be abandoned. "As the turnpike road could not be used by the new purchasers for the purposes intended, it was a useless and annoying piece of property in their hands. A petition has already [1901] been filed in the Court of Quarter Sessions of Chester County looking toward having the road condemned. Judge Hemphill has appointed jurors to view the said turnpike road and fix the damages that may be due the present owners. Whatever damages may finally be agreed upon the county of Chester must pay, and the supervisors of the different townships through which the road passes will thereafter assume its care. This will probably be the last official act in which the title of the old organization will participate. 'Men may come and men may go,' and changes be made both in ownership and purposes of use, but whatever the future may have in store for this grand old public highway, the basic principle will always be: 'The Old Philadelphia and Lancaster Turnpike;' and as such forever remain a lasting monument to the courageous, progressive, and patriotic men whose capital entered into and made its construction possible." The principal rivals of the macadamized roads were the plank roads. The first plank road in America was built at Toronto, Canada, in 1835-36, during Sir Francis Bond Head's governorship. It was an experiment and one Darcy Boulton is said to have been the originator of the plan.[18*] In 1837 this method of road-building was introduced into the United States, Syracuse, New York, possessing the first plank road this side the Canadian border. In fifteen years there were two thousand one hundred and six miles of these roads in New York State alone, and the system had spread widely through the more prosperous and energetic states. Usually these roads were single-track, the track being built on the left hand side of the roadway; the latter became known as the "turn-out." The planks, measuring eight inches by three, were laid on stringers, these, in turn, resting on a more or less elaborately made bed. The average cost of plank roads in New York was a trifle less than two thousand dollars per mile. It will be remembered that the Cumberland Road cost on the average over ten thousand dollars per mile in Maryland and Pennsylvania, and three thousand four hundred dollars per mile west of the Ohio River. Its estimated cost per mile, without bridging, was six thousand dollars. It was natural, therefore, that plank roads should become popular--for the country was still a "wooden country," as the pioneers said. It was argued that the cost was "infinitely less--that it [plank road] is easier for the horse to draw upon--and that such a road costs less for repairs and is more durable than a Macadam road.... On the Salina and Central road, a few weeks back, for a wager, a team [two horses] brought in, without any extraordinary strain, six tons of iron from Brewerton, a distance of twelve miles, to Syracuse [New York].... Indeed, the farmer does not seem to make any calculations of the weight taken. He loads his wagon as best he can, and the only care is not to exceed the quantity which it will carry; whether the team can draw the load, is not a consideration...." Such arguments prevailed in the day when timber was considered almost a nuisance, and plank roads spread far and wide. Few who were acquainted with primitive conditions have left us anything vivid in the way of descriptions of roads and road-making. "The pioneers of our State," wrote Calvin Fletcher, in an exceedingly interesting paper read before the Indiana Centennial Association, July 4, 1900, "found Indian trails, which, with widening, proved easy lines of travel. Many of these afterward became fixtures through use, improvement, and legislation.... Next to the hearty handshake and ready lift at the handspike, where neighbors swapped work at log-rollings, was the greeting when, at fixed periods, all able-bodied men met to open up or work upon the roads. My child-feet pattered along many of the well-constructed thoroughfares of today when they were only indistinct tracings--long lines of deadened trees, deep-worn horse paths, and serpentine tracks of wabbling wagon wheels. The ever-recurring road-working days and their cheerful observance, with time's work in rotting and fire's work in removing dead tree and stump, at last let in long lines of sunshine to dry up the mud, to burn up the miasma, and to bless the wayfarer to other parts, as well as to disclose what these pioneer road-makers had done for themselves by opening up fields in the forests.... To perfect easily and naturally these industries requires three generations. The forests must be felled, logs rolled and burned, families reared, and in most cases the land to be paid for. When this is accomplished a faithful picture would reveal not only the changes that had been wrought, but a host of prematurely broken down men and women, besides an undue proportion resting peacefully in country graveyards. A second generation straightens out the fields at odd corners, pulls the stumps, drains the wet spots, and casting aside the sickle of their father, swings the cradle over broader fields; and even trenches upon the plans of the third generation by pushing the claim of the reaper, the mower and the thresher.... The labor of the three generations in road-making I class as follows: To the first generation belonged locating the roads and the clearing the timber from them. The wet places would become miry and were repaired by the use of logs.... The roots and stumps caused many holes, called chuck holes, which were repaired by using brush and dirt--with the uniform result that at each end of the corduroy or brush repairs, a new mud or chuck hole would be formed in time; and thus until timber and brush became exhausted did the pioneer pave the way for the public and himself to market, to court, and to elections. The second generation discovered a value in the inexhaustible beds of gravel in the rivers and creeks, as well as beneath the soil. Roadbeds were thrown up, and the side ditches thus formed contributed to sound wheeling. Legislation tempted capital to invest and tollgates sprang up until the third generation removed them and assumed the burden of large expenditures from public funds for public benefit. "And thus have passed away the nightmare of the farmer, the traveller, the mover and the mail-carrier--a nightmare that prevailed nine months of the year.... An experience of a trip from Indianapolis to Chicago in March, 1848, by mail stage is pertinent. It took the first twenty-four hours to reach Kirklin, in Boone County; the next twenty-four to Logansport, the next thirty-six to reach South Bend. A rest then of twenty-four hours on account of high water ahead; then thirty-six hours to Chicago--five days of hard travel in mud or on corduroy, or sand.... In the summer passenger coaches went through, but when wet weather came the mud wagon was used to carry passengers and mail, and when the mud became too deep the mail was piled into crates, canvas-covered, and hauled through. This was done also on the National [Cumberland], the Madison, the Cincinnati, the Lafayette and the Bloomington Roads." The _corvée_, or required work on the roads of France, has been given as one of the minor causes of the social unrest which reached its climax in the French Revolution. American peasants had no such hardship according to an anonymous rhymester: Oh, our life was tough and tearful, and its toil was often fearful, And often we grew faint beneath the load. But there came a glad vacation and a sweet alleviation, When we used to work our tax out on the road. When we used to work our tax out, then we felt the joys of leisure, And we felt no more the prick of labor's goad; Then we shared the golden treasure of sweet rest in fullest measure, When we used to work our tax out on the road. The macadam and plank roads saw the Indian trail at its widest and best. The railway has had a tendency to undo even such advances over pioneer roads as came in the heyday of macadam and plank roads. We have been going backward since 1840 rather than forward. The writer has had long acquaintance with what was, in 1830, the first turnpike in Ohio--the Warren and Ashtabula Road; it was probably a far better route in 1830 than in 1900. By worrying the horse you can not make more than four miles an hour over many parts of it. One ought to go into training preparatory to a carriage drive over either the Cumberland or the Pennsylvania road across the Alleghenies. As the trail was widened it grew better, but once at its maximum width it was eclipsed as an avenue by the railway and, exceptions aside, has since 1850 deteriorated. Every foot added in width, however, has contained a lesson in American history; every road, as we have said, indicates a need; and the wider the road, it may be added, the greater the need. An expanding nation, in a moment's time, burst westward through these narrow trails, and left them standing as open roadways. Few material objects today suggest to our eyes this marvelous movement. These old routes with their many winding tracks, the ponderous bridges and sagging mile-posts,[19] are relics of those momentous days. CHAPTER II A PILGRIM ON THE PENNSYLVANIA ROAD The following chapter is from Francis Baily's volume, _A Journal of a Tour in Unsettled Parts of North America_. It is an account of a journey in 1796 from Philadelphia to Pittsburg over the Pennsylvania road treated of in Volume V of this series. Francis Baily was an English scientist of very great reputation. It is to be doubted whether there is another account of a journey as far west as Mr. Baily's record takes us (Cincinnati, Ohio) written at so early a date by an equally famous foreign scholar and scientist. The route pursued was the old state road begun in 1785 running through Pennsylvania from Chambersburg, Bedford, and Greensburg to Pittsburg. Mr. Baily's itinerary is by ancient taverns, most of which have passed from recollection. From Pittsburg he went with a company of pioneers down the Ohio River to their new settlement near Cincinnati. In his experiences with these friends he gives us a vivid picture of pioneer travel north of the Ohio River. "There being no turnpikes in America, the roads are, of course, very bad in winter, though excellent in summer. I waited at Baltimore near a week before I could proceed on my journey, the roads being rendered impassable. There is, at present, but one turnpike-road on the continent, which is between Lancaster and Philadelphia,[20] a distance of sixty-six miles, and is a masterpiece of its kind; it is paved with stone the whole way, and overlaid with gravel, so that it is never obstructed during the most severe season. This practice is going to be adopted in other parts of that public-spirited state [Pennsylvania], though none of the other states have yet come into the measure. "From Baltimore to Philadelphia are ninety-eight miles; between which places there is no want of conveyance, as there are three or four stages run daily. In one of these I placed myself on the morning of _March 3rd, 1796_. A description of them perhaps would be amusing. The body of the carriage is closed in, about breast high; from the sides of which are raised six or eight small perpendicular posts, which support a covering--so that it is in fact a kind of open coach. From the top are suspended leather curtains, which may be either drawn up in fine weather, or let down in rainy or cold weather; and which button at the bottom. The inside is fitted up with four seats, placed one before the other; so that the whole of the passengers face the horses; each seat will contain three passengers; and the driver sits on the foremost, under the same cover with the rest of the company. The whole is suspended on springs; and the way to get into it is _in front_, as if you were getting into a covered cart. This mode of travelling, and which is the only one used in America, is very pleasant as you enjoy the country much more agreeably than when imprisoned in a close coach, inhaling and exhaling the same air a thousand times over, like a cow chewing the cud; but then it is not quite so desirable in disagreeable weather.[21] "We had not proceeded far on our journey before we began to encounter some of those inconveniences to which every person who travels in this country _in winter time_ is exposed. The roads, which in general were very bad, would in some places be impassable, so that we were obliged to get out and walk a considerable distance, and sometimes to 'put our shoulders to the wheel;' and this in the most unpleasant weather, as well as in the midst of mire and dirt. However, we did manage to get twelve miles to breakfast; and after that, to a little place called Bush, about thirteen miles farther, to dinner; and about nine o'clock at night we came to _Havre de Grace_, about twelve miles further, to supper; having walked nearly half the way up to our ancles in mud, in a most inclement season. Havre de Grace is a pretty little place, most delightfully situated on the banks of the Susquehannah river, which at this place is about a quarter of a mile broad; it is about a couple of miles above the mouth of the river, where it empties into the Chesapeak Bay; a fine view of which you have from the town. An excellent tavern is kept here by Mr. Barney ... and which is frequented by parties in the shooting season, for the sake of the wild fowl with which the Susquehannah so plentifully abounds; the canvass-back, a most delicious bird, frequents this river.... Next morning we got ferried across the river, and, breakfasting at the tavern on the other side, proceeded on our journey, encountering the same difficulties we had done the preceding day. About three miles from Barney's is a little place, called Principio, situated in a highly romantic country, where there is a large foundry for cannon and works for boring them, situated in a valley surrounded by a heap of rocks; the wheels of the works are turned by a stream of water running over some of these precipices. About three miles from this is another delightful place, called Charleston; I mean with respect to its _situation_; as to the town itself, it does not seem to improve at all, at which I very much wonder, as it is most advantageously situated at the head of the Chesapeak, of which and the country adjoining it commands a full and most charming view. We got about nine miles farther, to a town called Elkton, to dinner. This place has nothing in it to attract the attention of travellers. I shall therefore pass it by, to inform you that we intended getting to Newport, about eighteen miles, to sleep. It was four o'clock before we started; and we had not proceeded far on these miserable roads, ere night overtook us; and, as the fates would have it, our unlucky coachman drove us into a miry bog; and, in spite of all our endeavours, we could not get the coach out again; we were therefore obliged to _leave it there, with the whole of the baggage, all night_; and were driven to the necessity of seeking our way in the dark to the nearest house, which was about a mile and a half off; there, getting ourselves cleaned and a good supper, we went to bed. Next morning we found everything just as we left it; and, getting another coach, we proceeded on our journey, and, dining at Chester, got to Philadelphia about nine o'clock in the evening, completely tired of our ride, having been three days and three nights on the road. "I would not have been thus particular, but I wished to give you a specimen of the American mode of travelling, though you will understand that these difficulties are to be met with only at that season of the year when the frost breaks up, and the roads get sadly out of order; for in summer time nothing can be more agreeable, expeditious, and pleasant. The fare from Baltimore to Philadelphia is 6 dollars, or 27s., and the customary charges on the road are 1/2 dollar for breakfast, 1 dollar for dinner, wine not included, 1/2 dollar for supper, and 1/4 dollar for beds. These are their general prices, and they charge the same whatever they provide for you. By this, you will observe that travelling in these settled parts of the country is about as expensive as in England. "The country between Baltimore and Philadelphia is of a _clayey_ nature, mixed with a kind of gravel; yet still, in the hands of a skilful farmer, capable of yielding good produce. The land on each side of the road, and back into the country, was pretty well cultivated, and (though winter) bore marks of industry and economy. Hedges are not frequent; but instead of them they place split logs angular-wise on each other, making what they call a "worm fence," and which is raised about five feet high. This looks very slovenly, and, together with the stumps of trees remaining in all the new-cleared plantations, is a great _desight_ to the scenery of the country.... From Newark to New York is about nine miles, and the greatest part of the road is over a large swamp, which lies between and on each side of the Pasaik and Hackinsac rivers. Over this swamp they have made a causeway, which trembles the whole way as you go over it,[22] and shows how far the genius and industry of man will triumph over natural impediments. "To New York, which is ninety-six miles from Philadelphia, we were a day and a half in coming. The roads were not so bad as when we came from Baltimore. Our fare was 6 dollars, and the charges on the road the same as between Baltimore and Philadelphia:--viz., 1/2 dollar breakfast, 1 dollar dinner, 1/2 dollar supper, and 1/4 dollar lodging.... The inhabitants of New York are very fond of music, dancing, and plays; an attainment to excellence in the former has been considerably promoted by the frequent musical societies and concerts which are held in the city, many of the inhabitants being very good performers. As to dancing, there are two assembly-rooms in the city, which are pretty well frequented during the winter season; private balls are likewise not uncommon. They have two theatres, one of which is lately erected, and is capable of containing a great number of persons; there is an excellent company of comedians, who perform here in the winter. But the amusement of which they seem most passionately fond is that of sleighing, which is riding on the snow in what _you_ call _a sledge_, drawn by two horses. It is astonishing to see how anxiously persons of all ages and both sexes look out for a good fall of snow, that they may enjoy their favourite amusement; and when the happy time comes, to see how eager they are to engage every sleigh that is to be hired. Parties of twenty or thirty will sometimes go out of town in these vehicles towards evening, about six or eight miles, when, having sent for a fiddler, and danced till they are tired, they will return home again by moonlight, or, perhaps more often, by _day_ light. Whilst the snow is on the ground no other carriages are made use of, either for pleasure or service. The productions of the earth are brought to market in sleighs; merchandise is draughted about in sleighs; coaches are laid by, and the ladies and gentlemen mount the _silent_ car, and nothing is heard in the streets but the tinkling[23] of bells.... I set off on the _1st_ of _September, 1796_, to make a tour of the western country,--that land of Paradise, according to the flattering accounts given by Imlay and others. Wishing to go to the new city of Washington, _we_[24] took our route through Philadelphia and Baltimore, which I have already described. I shall not trouble you with any further remarks, excepting that as the season was just the reverse of what it was when I passed through this country last, it presented quite a different appearance from what I described to you in my former letters. Besides, there was none of that inconvenience from bad roads, so terrible to a traveller in the winter. On the contrary, we went on with a rapidity and safety equal to any mode of travelling in England. "From Baltimore to the new city of Washington is forty-five miles, where we arrived on the _5th_ of _October_ following. The road is well furnished with taverns, which in general are good, at least as good as can be expected in this part of the world. Close to Washington is a handsome town called Georgetown; in fact, it will form part of the new city; for, being so near the site intended for it, and being laid out nearly on the same plan, its streets will be only a prolongation of the streets laid out for the city of Washington: so it will in course of time lose its name of Georgetown, and adopt the general one of Washington. Much in the same manner the small places formerly separated from the metropolis of England have lost their name, and fallen under the general denomination of London. "Georgetown is situated on a hill close to the river Potomak; it presents a beautiful view from the surrounding country, of which also it commands a fine prospect. It is a seaport town, and some of their vessels are employed in the London trade. There are stages run daily between this place and Baltimore, for which you pay four dollars. There are also stages to and from Alexandria, a handsome and flourishing town situated on the Potomak, lower down the stream, and about eight miles off; for which you pay a fare of three quarters of a dollar. We put up at the Federal Arms whilst we were there. It is a good inn, but their charges are most extravagantly high.... At about half-past one, _October 7th_, we started on our journey over the Allegany mountains to Pittsburgh.[25] About fourteen miles on the road is a pretty little town called Montgomery Court House;[26] it contains some good houses, but the streets are narrow. About seven miles further is a little settlement, formed a few years back by Captain Lingham, called Middlebrook. Captain Lingham has a house on the road, near a mill, which he has erected; and here (following the example of many of his brother officers) he has retired from the toils and bustle of war, to spend his days in the enjoyments of a country life. We arrived here about six o'clock; the sun was just setting, yet there was time to go another stage; but, as we got into a part of the country where _taverns_[27] were not very frequent, we proposed stopping here this night. Accordingly, putting our horses up at a little tavern, (which, together with four or five more houses, composed the whole of the settlement,) we had a comfortable supper and went to bed. About half-past six the next morning we started from this place, and stopped, about seven miles on the road, at an old woman's of the name of Roberts.[28] This old woman (whose house, I believe, was the only one we saw on the road) acts at times in the capacity of a tavern-keeper: that is, a person travelling that way, and straitened for provisions, would most probably find something there for himself and his horse. The old lady was but just up when we called; her house had more the appearance of a hut than the habitation of an hostess, and when we entered there was scarcely room to turn round. We were loath to stop here; but there not being any other house near, we were obliged to do it, both for the sake of ourselves and our horses. We soon made her acquainted with our wants, and she, gathering together a few sticks, (for her fire was not yet lighted,) and getting a little meal and some water, mixed us up some cakes, which were soon dressed at the fire, and then all sitting down at the table, and having mixed some tea in a little pot, we enjoyed a very comfortable breakfast. The poor old woman, who was a widow, seemed to live in a deal of distress: the whole of her living was acquired by furnishing accommodation to travellers. When we were sitting over the fire, and partaking of our meal-cakes with this old woman, it brought to mind the story of Elijah and the widow, (I Kings, chap, xvii.,) particularly where she answers him with, 'As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but one handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.' The appositeness of our situations rendered this passage very striking, and made me look upon my hostess in a more favourable point of view than when I first saw her. I gave her something to render her situation more comfortable and happy. "Leaving this lonely habitation, we continued on our journey, and crossing the Sinecocy [Monocacy?] river, about eleven miles on the road, we reached Fredericktown, about four miles farther, at twelve o'clock. This is a large flourishing place, contains a number of good houses, and is a place of great trade, owing to its being the thoroughfare to the western country of Pennsylvania and the Ohio. There is a large manufactory of rifle-guns carried on here; but so great is the demand for them, that we could not meet with one in the whole place: they sell in general from 15 to 25 dollars each, according to their style of being mounted. The tavern where we stopped was kept by Mrs. Kemble: it is a tolerably good house. After dinner we left this place, and after going about three or four miles, we arrived at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains. And here let me stop a little to make a few observations on the face of the country we have just passed over. From Georgetown to this place, it almost wholly consists of a sandy, gravelly soil, with difficulty repaying the husbandman for the trouble of tilling it. The face of the country is very uneven, being a constant succession of hill and dale. Little towns or villages are scattered over the country at the distance of seven or eight miles, which communicate with each other by roads which are almost inaccessible during the winter and spring months. Our charges on this part of the road were half a dollar each for breakfast and dinner and supper, without any distinction of fare. If our table were spread with all the profusion of American luxury, such as ham, cold beef, fried chicken, &c. &c., (which are not uncommon for breakfast in this part of the world), or whether we sat down to a dish of tea and hoe-cake, our charge was all the same. The accommodations we met with on the road were pretty well, considering the short time this country has been settled, and the character and disposition of its inhabitants, which are not those of the most polished nations, but a character and disposition arising from a consciousness of independence, accompanied by a spirit and manner highly characteristic of this consciousness. It is not education alone that forms this character of the Americans: it stands upon a firmer basis than this. The means of subsistence being so easy in the country, and their dependence on each other consequently so trifling, that spirit of servility to those above them so prevalent in European manners, is wholly unknown to them; and they pass their lives without any regard to the smiles or the frowns of men in power. "Nearly the whole of the way from Georgetown to Fredericktown we preserved a distant view of the Allegany Mountains, at whose feet we were now arrived. They presented to us one general bluff appearance, extending as far as our eye could see from the north-east to the south-west. Our approach to them was in a line perpendicular to that of their extension, so that they seemed to bid defiance to our progress. The _Allegany Mountains_ is a name given to a range of several ridges of mountains stretching from Vermont to Carolina, of which one ridge alone is properly called the Allegany Mountain. These ridges are nearly 170 miles in width; and the middle one, or the Allegany, forms the backbone of the rest. The ridge which first presented itself to our view, is called in Howell's Map the South Mountain. The road (which here began to be very rocky and stony) is carried over the least elevated part of the mountain, and from its summit we beheld that beautiful limestone valley so recommended by Brissot. On our descent from this mountain, we entered on one of the finest tracts of land in all America. The celebrated valley, which lies between this and the next ridge of mountains, extends from the Susquehanna on the north to Winchester on the south, is richly watered by several navigable streams, and is capable of producing every article which is raised in the neighbouring countries in the greatest abundance. It is inhabited chiefly by Germans and Dutch, who are an industrious race of men and excellent farmers. Their exertions have made this valley (bounded on each side by barren and inhospitable mountains) assume the appearance of a highly cultivated country, abounding in all the conveniences and some of the luxuries of life. Besides a general appearance of comfortable farms scattered over the face of the country, it can boast of several large and populous towns, which keep up a connexion with the cities on the Atlantic, and supply the interior of this mountainous country with the produce of distant nations. It was dark before we descended from this mountain; but we had not proceeded far in the valley when we came to a little place called Boone's-town, where we were glad to rest ourselves and horses after the fatigues of so rough a road. Boone's-town is eight miles from Fredericktown: it has not been settled above three or four years. We met with a very good tavern and excellent accommodations. "From Boone's-town, the next morning (_Sunday, October 9th, 1796_) we passed through Funk's-town, which is another new-settled place; and immediately on leaving this, Hagar's-town presented itself to our view, about two miles off: here we arrived to breakfast. Hagar's-town[29] is a large flourishing place, and contains some good houses. The streets are narrow, and, agreeably to a barbarous custom which they have in laying out new towns in America, the court-house is built in the _middle_ of the principal street, which is a great obstruction to the passage, as well as being of an uncouth appearance. This place is situated on a fine plain, and, like Frederick's-town, is a place of great trade, and also a manufactory for rifle-guns, of which we bought two at twenty dollars each. Here is a paper published weekly; and assemblies are held here during the winter. There is also a great deal of horse-racing in the neighbourhood at stated seasons. We put up at the Indian Queen, kept by Ragan: it is a good house and much frequented. "From Hagar's-town we proceeded on to Greencastle, which is a poor little place, but lately settled, and consisting of a few log-houses built along the road. We stopped at one of these houses, which they called the tavern, kept by one Lawrence; it was a poor miserable place. We were obliged to unsaddle our horses, put them into the stable, and feed them ourselves; and then, having got something to eat and refreshed ourselves, we got out of this place as soon as we could. Greencastle is eleven miles from Hagar's-town; and we had to go eleven miles farther that evening to Mr. Lindsay's, whom we had engaged at Baltimore to carry some goods to Pittsburgh in his waggons. His house lay at some distance from the road we were going, so that we struck across the woods to approach it; and, after having missed our way once or twice, we struck on a road which took us down to his house. Here we were hospitably entertained for two days by Mr. Lindsay and his father-in-law, Mr. Andrews, who have a very excellent farm, and live very comfortably in the truly American style. The place at which he resides is called the _Falling Springs_; for what reason they are called _falling_ springs I cannot conceive; they _rise_ from under an old tree, and the stream does not proceed three hundred yards before it turns a cyder-mill; and a little farther on turns a grist-mill. These mills belong to Mr. Andrews, as also does a large quantity of the land around; for in this country _all_ the farmers are landholders; Mr. and Mrs. Andrews are Irish; and they and their family are all settled in the neighbourhood. Their children are all brought up in industry, and have their time fully employed in performing the different necessary duties of the house and farm. Nevertheless, they appear to live very happy and comfortable. "_Tuesday, October 11th, 1796._--About eleven o'clock this morning we set off from Mr. Andrews's, in company with a party of several of the neighbouring farmers who were going to Chambersburgh to vote at an election. Chambersburgh is about three miles from Mr. Andrews's, and is a large and flourishing place, not inferior to Frederick's-town or Hagar's-town; being, like them, on the high road to the western country, it enjoys all the advantages which arise from such a continual body of people as are perpetually emigrating thither. I have seen ten and twenty waggons at a time in one of these towns, on their way to Pittsburgh and other parts of the Ohio, from thence to descend down that river to Kentucky. These waggons are loaded with the clothes and necessaries of a number of poor emigrants, who follow on foot with their wives and families, who are sometimes indulged with a ride when they are tired, or in bad weather. In this manner they will travel and take up their abode in the woods on the side of the road, like the gypsies in our country, taking their provisions with them, which they dress on the road's side, as occasion requires. "About thirteen miles from Chambersburgh, which we left in the afternoon, is a place called the _Mill_,[30] which is kept by some Dutchmen. We understood it was a tavern, but were disappointed; however, as it was now dark, and no tavern on the road for some distance, we were under the necessity of begging a lodging here, which was granted us at last with the greatest reluctance. Here we had rather an unfavourable specimen of Dutch manners. We were _kindly_ directed to take our horses to the stables, and take care of them ourselves, which we accordingly did; and, returning to the house, I was witness to a kind of meal I had never before experienced. First of all, some sour milk was warmed up and placed on the table. This at any other time would probably have made us sick; but having fasted nearly the whole day, and seeing no appearance of anything else likely to succeed it, we devoured it very soon; particularly as the whole family (of which there were seven or eight) partook of it likewise; all of us sitting round _one_ large bowl, and dipping our spoons in one after another. When this was finished a dish of stewed pork was served up, accompanied with some hot pickled cabbage, called in this part of the country "warm slaw." This was devoured in the same hoggish manner, every one trying to help himself first, and two or three eating off the same plate, and all in the midst of filth and dirt. After this was removed a large bowl of cold milk and bread was put on the table, which we partook of in the same manner as the first dish, and in the same disorder. The spoons were immediately taken out of the greasy pork dish, and (having been just cleaned by passing through the _mouth_) were put into the milk; and that, with all the _sang froid_ necessarily attending such habitual nastiness. Our _table_, which was none of the cleanest (for as to _cloth_, they had none in the house), was placed in the middle of the room, which appeared to me to be the receptacle of all the filth and rubbish in the house; and a fine large fire, which blazed at one end, served us instead of a candle. "Wishing to go to bed as soon as possible (though, by the by, we did not expect that our accommodations would be any of the most agreeable), we requested to be shown to our room, when, lo! we were ushered up a ladder, into a dirty place, where a little hole in the wall served for a window, and where there were four or five beds as dirty as need be. These beds did not consist (as most beds do) of blankets, sheets, &c., but were truly in the Dutch style, being literally nothing more than one feather bed placed on another, between which we were to creep and lie down. The man, after showing us this our place of destination, took the candle away, and left us to get in how we could, which we found some difficulty in doing at first; however, after having accomplished it, we slept very soundly till morning, when we found we had passed the night amongst the whole family, men, women, and children, who had occupied the other beds, and who had come up after we had been asleep. We got up early in the morning from this inhospitable and filthy place, and, saddling our horses, pursued our journey. [Illustration: WIDOW MCMURRAN'S TAVERN, SCRUB RIDGE, PENNSYLVANIA ROAD] "_October 12th, 1796._--At ten o'clock we arrived at McConnell's-town, in Cove Valley (thirteen miles), having first passed over a high ridge called, in Howell's Map, the North Mountain; and here we left that beautiful valley, which is enriched by so many streams, and abounds with such a profusion of the conveniences of life; a country than which, if we except Kentucky, is not to be found a more fertile one in the whole of the United States. "On our descent from the North Mountain we caught, through every opening of the woods, the distant view of McConnell's, whose white houses, contrasted with the _sea_ of woods by which it was surrounded, appeared like an island in the ocean. Our near approach to it, however, rendered it not quite so pleasing an object; for it consisted but of a few log-houses, built after the American manner, without any other ornament than that of being whitened on the _outside_. There was a pretty good tavern kept here by a Dutchwoman, where we stopped to breakfast; and, leaving this place, we crossed a hill called Scrubheath, at the end of which was Whyle's tavern (ten miles): we did not stop, but went to the top of Sideling Hill (two miles), where there is a tavern kept by Skinner, where we dined. Sideling Hill is so called from the road being carried over this ridge, _on the side of the hill_, the whole way; it is very steep in ascent, and towards the top appears very tremendous on looking down. "From this tavern to the Junietta, a branch of the Susquehannah river, is eight miles. The hill terminates at the river, and the road down to it is a narrow winding path, apparently cleft out of the mountain. It so happened that when we came to this defile, a travelling man with a number of packhorses had just entered it before us; and as it was impossible for us to pass them, we were obliged to follow them down this long winding passage to the river, at their own pace, which, poor animals, was none of the speediest. The sun, though not set, had been long hid from us by the neighbouring mountains, and would not lend us one ray to light us on our melancholy path. We fell into conversation with our fellow-traveller, and found that he had been to Philadelphia, where he had purchased a number of articles necessary to those who live in this part of the country, and which he was going to dispose of in the best manner possible. The gloominess of our path, and the temper of mind I happened to be then in, threw me into reflections on a comparison of this man's state with my own. At length a distant light broke me from my reverie, and indicated to us a near prospect of our enlargement from this obscure path; and the first thing that presented itself to our view was the Junietta river, which, flowing with a gentle stream between two very steep hills, covered with trees to the very top, the sun just shining, and enlightening the opposite side, though hid to us, presented one of the most enchanting and romantic scenes I ever experienced. From this place to Hartley's Tavern is eight miles, and this we had to go before night. It was sunset before we had reached the summit of the opposite hill of the river. From this hill we beheld ourselves in the midst of a mountainous and woody country; the Junietta winding and flowing on each side of us at the foot of the hill; the distant mountains appearing in all the _wildness of majesty_, and extending below the horizon. The moon had just begun to spread her silver light; and by her assistance we were enabled to reach our destined _port_. The road, which was carried along the side of a tremendously high hill, seemed to threaten us with instant death, if our horses should make a false step. Embosomed in woods, on a lonely path, we travelled by the kind light of the moon till near eight o'clock, when we reached our place of destination. It was a very comfortable house, kept by one Hartley, an Englishman, and situated in a gap of the mountains, called in this part of the country Warrior's Gap, and which affords an outlet or passage for the Junietta river, which here is a fine gentle stream. The country just about here was very mountainous; yet our landlord had got a very pleasant spot cleared and cultivated, and which furnished him with the principal necessaries of life. Finding this an agreeable place, we stopped here three days, and went up into the mountains to shoot; but, being very young hands at this diversion, we were always unsuccessful. "On _Saturday, October 15th_, we set off from Hartley's about eleven o'clock, and proceeded to Redford (six miles), which is a pleasant place, and agreeably situated, and contains a great many houses. The town is supplied with water from the neighbouring hills; conveyed in pipes to each house, and to a public place in the middle of the town. We left this place about half-past twelve, and proceeded to Ryan's tavern, at the foot of the Allegany mountain (eleven miles). Here we dined; and after dinner, we proceeded up the mountain, the top of which we reached about five o'clock; and here I was surprised to find a number of little streams of water flowing through some as fine land as is to be met with in the United States, and abounding with fish. This appearance upon the top of so high a mountain is not a little remarkable; but I have since found it to be the case in other ridges of mountains which I have passed over. We intended to have gone on to Webster's this evening, but the weather proving so bad, we called at a little house on the road, in order to stop during the night. But we were informed that they could not accommodate us; however, they directed us to a person about a mile off, where they thought we could get accommodated; accordingly, striking across the woods, we proceeded to this house, and, after some little trouble, and in a very tempestuous night, we found it out, and here took up our abode for the night. Our landlord's name was Statler, and his residence is about eight miles from Ryan's. Here we found a very comfortable habitation, and very good accommodation; and though situated at the top of the highest ridge of mountains, we experienced not only the comforts, but also some of the luxuries of life. From the stone which forms the base of this mountain they make mill-stones, which are sent to all parts of the country, and sell from fifteen to twenty and thirty dollars a pair. Land sells on these mountains for two dollars an acre. We found this so comfortable a place, that we stopped here to breakfast the next morning (_October 16th_), and then we proceeded to Webster's, at a place called Stoystown (nine miles), where there is a good tavern, and where we stopped to bait our horses. About a mile before we came to Webster's we passed over Stoney Creek, which has a great many different branches, and rather large, but most of them were dry, owing partly to the season, and partly to their lying so very high. About nine miles further we stopped at Murphy's, where we baited our horses; but the habitation was so uncomfortable, and their accommodations so miserable, that we could get nothing for ourselves; we were therefore obliged to defer till the evening taking any refreshment. On leaving this place we crossed Laurel Hill, which is near nine miles long, and which is the highest ridge of the Apalachian mountains: it is rather a ridge upon a ridge, than a mountain by itself, as it rises upon the Allegany ridge. The perpendicular height of this ridge is 4,200 feet; and in crossing it we were not a little incommoded by the cold winds and rain which generally infest the summit. This, together with the badness of the roads (being nothing but large loose stones), made it one of the most unpleasant rides I ever experienced. It was near dark before we descended this mountain; and we had then to go three miles to a poor miserable hut, where we were obliged to spend the night amidst the whole family and some other travellers, all scattered about in the same room. "About half-past six the next morning (_October 17th, 1796_) we set out from King's, and crossing Chestnut ridge, we arrived at Letty Bean's to breakfast (seven and a half miles). After crossing Chestnut ridge we took our leave of the Apalachian mountains, having passed 170 miles over them, from the Blue ridge to Chestnut ridge. These mountains are for the most part very stony and rocky, yet have a great quantity of fine land on them, even on their very summits. The roads which are carried over them are much better than I expected; and if from the tops of them you can (through an opening of the trees) gain a view of the surrounding country, it appears like a sea of woods; and all those hills which appeared very high in our passing over them, are lost in one wide plane, extending as far as the eye can reach, at least fifty or sixty miles, presenting a view not only novel, but also highly majestic. At other times, when you get between the declivities of the mountains, they appear in all the wildness of nature, forming the most romantic scenery the imagination can picture. It is not to be supposed, that immediately on leaving the Apalachian mountains the country subsides into a smooth level; on the contrary, for several miles, both on the eastern and western side, the country is very hilly, not to say sometimes mountainous; and it is said that the western side of the mountains is 300 feet above the level of the eastern side. "From the foot of the mountains to Pittsburgh is about forty miles, and here we arrived to dinner on the _18th October_, having gone, during our route, about 297 miles from Philadelphia. The accommodations we met with were, upon the whole, tolerably good; at least, such as a person (considering the country he was travelling in) might bear with: charges rather high. It cost us, together with our horses, two dollars a day each. The common charges on the eastern side of the mountains were:--For breakfast, dinner, and supper, 1/2 dollar each; oats, 12 cents. per gallon. On the western side, dinner and supper were charged sometimes 2s., sometimes 2s. 6d., and breakfasts, 18d., (Pennsylvania currency). For breakfast we generally used to have coffee, and buck-wheat cakes, and some fried venison or broiled chicken, meat being inseparable from an American breakfast; and whatever travellers happened to stop at the same place, sat down at the same table, and partook of the same dishes, whether they were poor, or whether they were rich; no distinction of persons being made in this part of the country.... "The waggons which come over the Allegany mountains from the Atlantic states, (bringing dry goods and foreign manufactures for the use of the back-country men,) return from this place generally empty; though sometimes they are laden with deer and bear skins and beaver furs, which are brought in by the hunters, and sometimes by the Indians, and exchanged at the stores for such articles as they may stand in need of." Passing down the Ohio River Mr. Baily proceeded with a pioneer party the leader of which, Mr. Heighway, was about to found a town on the banks of the Little Miami River in Ohio. Leaving the river at the newly located village of Columbia, Ohio, the party pushed on northward. Mr. Baily accompanied them out of curiosity, and his record is of utmost interest. "_Saturday, March 4th, 1797_,--the two waggons started, accompanied with a guide to conduct them through the wilderness, and three or four pioneers to clear the road of trees where there might be occasion; and on "_Monday, March 6th_,--Dr. Bean and myself started about noon, accompanied by several others in the neighbourhood; some of whom were tempted by curiosity, and others with a prospect of settling there. We were mounted on horses, and had each a gun; and across our saddles we had slung a large bag, containing some corn for our horses, and provision for ourselves, as also our blankets: the former was necessary, as the grass had not yet made its appearance in the woods. We kept the road as long as we could; and when that would not assist us any farther, we struck out into the woods; and towards sundown found ourselves about twenty miles from Columbia. Here, having spied a little brook running at the bottom of a hill, we made a halt, and kindling a fire, we fixed up our blankets into the form of a tent, and having fed both ourselves and our horses, we laid ourselves down to rest; one of us, by turns, keeping watch, lest the Indians should come and steal our horses. The next morning,-- "_Tuesday, March 7th_,--as soon as it was light, we continued our journey, and towards the middle of the day overtook our friend H.,[31] almost worn out with fatigue. The ground was so moist and swampy, and he had been obliged to come through such almost impassable ways, that it was with difficulty the horses could proceed; they were almost knocked up; his waggons had been over-turned twice or thrice;--in fact, he related to us such a dismal story of the trials both of patience and of mind which he had undergone, and I verily believe if the distance had been much greater, he would either have sunk under it, or have formed his settlement on the spot. We encouraged him with the prospect of a speedy termination, and the hopes of better ground to pass over; and with this his spirits seemed to be somewhat raised. We all encamped together this night, and made ourselves as happy and as comfortable as possible. My friend H. seemed also to put on the new man; and from this, and from his being naturally of a lively turn, we found that it was a great deal the want of society which had rendered him so desponding, and so out of spirits; for after we had cooked what little refreshment we had brought with us, and finished our repast, he sang us two or three good songs, (which he was capable of doing in a masterly style,) and seemed to take a pleasure in delaying as long as he could that time which we ought to have devoted to rest. As to my own part, I regarded the whole enterprise in a more philosophic point of view; and I may say with the Spectator, I considered myself as a silent observer of all that passed before me; and could not but fancy that I saw in this little society before me the counterpart of the primitive ages, when men used to wander about in the woods with all their substance, in the manner that the present race of Tartars do at this day. I could not but think that I saw in miniature the peregrinations of Abraham, or �neas, &c., &c. "The next morning, _Wednesday, March 8th_, by day-light, our cavalcade was in motion; and some of the party rode on first to discover the spot, for we were travelling without any other guide than what little knowledge of the country the men had acquired by hunting over it. I could not but with pleasure behold with what expedition the pioneers in front cleared the way for the waggon; there were but three or four of them, and they got the road clear as fast as the waggon could proceed. Whilst we were continuing on at this rate, we observed at some distance before us, a human being dart into the woods, and endeavour to flee from us. Ignorant what this might mean, we delayed the waggons, and some of us went into the woods and tracked the footsteps of a man for some little distance, when suddenly a negro made his appearance from behind some bushes, and hastily inquired whether there were any Indians in our party, or whether we had met with any. The hideousness of the man's countenance, (which was painted with large red spots upon a black ground,) and his sudden appearance, startled us at first; but soon guessing his situation, we put him beyond all apprehension, and informed him he was perfectly safe. He then began to inform us that he had been a prisoner among the Indians ever since the close of the last American war; and that he had meditated his escape ever since he had been in their hands, but that never, till now, had he been able to accomplish it.... "We could not but look upon the man with an eye of pity and compassion, and after giving him something to pursue his journey with, and desiring him to follow our track to Columbia, we separated. At about three or four o'clock the same afternoon, we had the satisfaction of seeing the Little Miami river. Here we halted, (for it was on the banks of this river that the town was laid out,) and we were soon joined by our other companions, who had proceeded on first, and who informed us that they had recognized the spot about half a mile higher up the river. We accordingly went on, and got the goods all out of the waggons that night, so that they might return again as soon as they thought proper. And here we could not but congratulate our friend H. upon his arrival at the seat of his new colony." CHAPTER III ZANE'S TRACE AND THE MAYSVILLE PIKE In the study of the Ohio River as a highway of immigration and commerce it was emphasized that in earliest pioneer days the ascent of the river was a serious and difficult problem. This was true, indeed, not on the Ohio alone, but on almost every river of importance in the United States. Of course brawny arms could force a canoe through flood-tides and rapids; but, as a general proposition, the floods of winter, with ice floating fast amid-stream and clinging in ragged blocks and floes along the shore, and the droughts of summer which left, even in the Ohio, great bars exposed so far to the light that the river could be forded here and there by children, made even canoe navigation well-nigh impossible. For other craft than light canoes navigation was utterly out of the question in the dry seasons and exceedingly dangerous on the icy winter floods at night--when the shore could not be approached. Such conditions as these gave origin to many of our land highways. Where pioneer homes were built beside a navigable river it was highly important to have a land thoroughfare leading back to the "old settlements" which could be traversed at all seasons. Many of our "river roads" came into existence, not because the valleys offered the easiest courses for land travel, but because pioneer settlements were made on river banks, and, as the rivers were often worthy of the common French name "Embarras," land courses were necessary. In the greater rivers this "homeward track," so to speak, frequently abandoned the winding valley and struck straight across the interior on the shortest available route. The founding of Kentucky in the lower Ohio Valley offers a specific instance to illustrate these generalizations, and brings us to the subject of a thoroughfare which was of commanding importance in the old West. We have elsewhere dealt at length with the first settlement of Kentucky, making clear the fact that the great road blazed by Boone through Cumberland Gap was the most important route in Kentucky's early history. The growth of the importance of the Ohio River as a thoroughfare and its final tremendous importance to Kentucky and the entire West has also been reviewed. But, despite this importance, the droughts of summer and the ice-torrents of winter made a landward route from Kentucky to Pennsylvania and the East an absolute necessity. Even when the river was navigable, the larger part of the craft which sailed it before 1820 were not capable of going up-stream. Heavy freight could be "poled" and "cordelled" up in the keel-boat and barge, but for all other return traffic, both freight and passenger, the land routes from Kentucky north and east were preferable. For many years the most available messenger and mail route from Cincinnati, Vincennes, and Louisville was over Boone's Wilderness Road through Cumberland Gap. But, as the eighteenth century neared its close, the large population of western Pennsylvania and northwestern Virginia made necessary better routes from the upper Ohio Valley across the Alleghenies; in turn, the new conditions demanded a route up the Ohio Valley from Kentucky to Pennsylvania. In our survey of Indian Thoroughfares, a slight path known as the Mingo Trail is mentioned as leading across eastern Ohio from Mingo Bottom near the present Steubenville, on the Ohio River, to the neighborhood of Zanesville on the Muskingum River.[32] Mingo Bottom was a well-known Indian camping-place; the name is preserved in the railway junction thereabouts, Mingo Junction. A distinct watershed offers thoroughfare southwesterly across to the Muskingum, and on this lay the old trail. The termini of this earliest known route were near two early settlements of whites; Mingo Bottom lies eight or nine miles north of Wheeling, one of the important stations in the days of border warfare. The Mingo Trail, swinging southward a little, became the route of white hunters and travelers who wished to cross what is now eastern Ohio. The Muskingum River terminus of the trail was Wills Town, as far down the Muskingum from Zanesville as Mingo Bottom was above Wheeling on the Ohio. It is altogether probable that a slight trace left the Wills Town trail and crossed the Muskingum at the mouth of Licking River--the present site of Zanesville. If a trail led thence westwardly toward the famed Pickaway Plains, it is recorded on none of our maps. We know, therefore, of only the Mingo Trail, running, let us say loosely, from Wheeling, West Virginia, to Zanesville, Ohio, which could have played any part in forming what soon became known as the first post road in all the Territory Northwest of the River Ohio. With the close of the Indian War and the signing of the Treaty of Greenville in 1795, the American possession of the Northwest was placed beyond question. A flood of emigrants at once left the eastern states for the Central West, and the return traffic, especially in the form of travelers and private mail packets, from Kentucky and Cincinnati, began at once to assume significant proportions, and Congress was compelled to facilitate travel by opening a post route two hundred and twenty-six miles in length from the upper to the lower Ohio. Accordingly, the following act: "_An Act to authorize Ebenezer Zane[33] to locate certain lands in the territory of the United States northwest of the river Ohio_" was passed by Congress and approved May 17, 1796: "_Be it enacted, &c._, That, upon the conditions hereinafter mentioned, there shall be granted to Ebenezer Zane three tracts of land, not exceeding one mile square each, one on the Muskingum river, one on Hockhocking river, and one other on the north bank of Scioto river, and in such situations as shall best promote the utility of a road to be opened by him on the most eligible route between Wheeling and Limestone,[34] to be approved by the President of the United States, or such person as he shall appoint for that purpose; _Provided_, Such tracts shall not interfere with any existing claim, location, or survey; nor include any salt spring, nor the lands on either side of the river Hockhocking at the falls thereof. "SEC. 2. _And be it further enacted_, That upon the said Zane's procuring, at his own expense, the said tracts to be surveyed, in such a way and manner as the President of the United States shall approve, and returning into the treasury of the United States plats thereof, together with warrents granted by the United States for military land bounties, to the amount of the number of acres contained in the said three tracts; and also, producing satisfactory proof, by the first day of January next, that the aforesaid road is opened, and ferries established upon the rivers aforesaid, for the accommodation of travellers, and giving security that such ferries shall be maintained during the pleasure of Congress; the President of the United States shall be, and he hereby is, authorized and empowered to issue letters patent, in the name and under the seal of the United States, thereby granting and conveying to the said Zane, and his heirs, the said tracts of land located and surveyed as aforesaid; which patents shall be countersigned by the secretary of state, and recorded in his office: _Provided always_, That the rates of ferriage, at such ferries, shall, from time to time, be ascertained [inspected] by any two of the judges of the territory northwest of the river Ohio, or such other authority as shall be appointed for that purpose. "APPROVED May 17, 1796."[35] Zane evidently went at once to work opening the road to Kentucky, his brother Jonathan, and son-in-law John McIntire, assisting largely in the work. The path was only made fit for horsemen, particularly mail-carriers. It is probable that the task was not more difficult than to cut away small trees on an Indian trace. It is sure that for a greater part of the distance from the Ohio to the Muskingum the Mingo Trail was followed, passing near the center of Belmont, Guernsey and Muskingum Counties. The route to the southwest from that point through Perry, Fairfield, Pickaway, Ross, Richland, Adams, and Brown Counties may or may not have followed the path of an Indian trace. No proof to the contrary being in existence, it is most reasonable to suppose that this, like most other pioneer routes, did follow a more or less plainly outlined Indian path. The new road crossed the Muskingum at the present site of the town well named Zanesville, the Hocking at Lancaster, the Scioto at Chillicothe, and the Ohio at Aberdeen, Ohio, opposite the old-time Limestone, Kentucky. [Illustration: BRIDGE ON WHICH ZANE'S TRACE CROSSED THE MUSKINGUM RIVER AT ZANESVILLE, OHIO] One George Sample was an early traveler on this National Road; paying a visit from the East to the Ohio country in 1797, he returned homeward by way of Zane's Trace or the Maysville Road, as the route was variously known. After purchasing a farm on Brush Creek, Adams County, Ohio, and locating a homeless emigrant on it, Mr. Sample "started back to Pennsylvania on horseback" according to his recorded recollections written in 1842;[36] "as there was no getting up the river at that day.[37] In our homeward trip we had very rough fare when we had any at all; but having calculated on hardships, we were not disappointed. There was one house (Treiber's) on Lick branch, five miles from where West Union[38] now is." Trebar--according to modern spelling--opened a tavern on his clearing in 1798 or 1799, but at the time of Sample's trip his house was not more public than the usual pioneer's home where the latch-string was always out.[39] "The next house," continues Mr. Sample, "was where Sinking spring or Middle-town is now.[40] The next was at Chillicothe, which was just then commenced. We encamped one night at Massie's run, say two or three miles from the falls of Paint creek, where the trace then crossed that stream. From Chillicothe to Lancaster the trace then went through the Pickaway plains. There was a cabin some three or four miles below the plains, and another at their eastern edge, and one or two more between that and Lancaster. Here we staid the third night. From Lancaster we went next day to Zanesville, passing several small beginnings. I recollect no improvement between Zanesville and Wheeling, except a small one at the mouth of Indian Wheeling creek, opposite to Wheeling. In this space we camped another night. From Wheeling we went home pretty well." The matter of ferriage was a most important item on pioneer roads as indicated by the Act of Congress quoted. The Court of General Quarter Sessions met at Adamsville, Adams County, December 12, 1797, and made the following the legal rates of ferriage across the Scioto and Ohio Rivers, both of which Zane's Trace crossed: _Scioto River:_ Man and horse 12-1/2 cents. Single 6-1/4 " Wagon and team 75 " Horned cattle (each) 6-1/4 " _Ohio River:_ Man and horse 18-1/2 " Single 9-1/4 " Wagon and team $1.15 Horned cattle 9-1/4 " [41] No sooner was Zane's Trace opened than the Government established a mail route between Wheeling and Maysville and Lexington. For the real terminus of the trace was not by any means at little Maysville; an ancient buffalo route and well-worn white man's road led into the interior of Kentucky from Maysville, known in history as the Maysville Road and Maysville Pike. On the Ohio side this mail route from Wheeling and Lexington was known by many titles in many years; it was the Limestone Road, the Maysville Pike, the Limestone and Chillicothe Road, and the Zanesville Pike; the Maysville and Zanesville Turnpike was constructed between Zanesville and the Ohio River. At Zanesville the road today is familiarly known as the Maysville Pike while in Kentucky it is commonly called the Zanesville Pike. "When the Indian trail gets widened, graded and bridged to a good road," wrote Emerson, "there is a benefactor, there is a missionary, a pacificator, a wealth-bringer, a maker of markets, a vent for industry."[42] The little road here under consideration is unique among American highways in its origin and in its history. It was demanded, not by war, but by civilization, not for exploration and settlement but by settlements that were already made and in need of communion and commerce. It was created by an act of Congress as truly as the Cumberland Road, which soon should, in part, supersede it. And finally it was on the subject of the Maysville Turnpike that the question of internal improvement by the national government was at last decided when, in 1830, President Jackson signed that veto which made the name of Maysville a household word throughout the United States. In 1825, after a delay which created great suspense in the West, the Cumberland Road at last leaped the Ohio River at Wheeling. Zane's Trace, now a wide, much-traveled avenue, offered a route westward to Zanesville which could be but little improved upon. The blazed tree gave way to the mile-stone and the pannier and saddle-bag to the rumbling stagecoach and the chaise. It is all a pretty, quiet picture and its story is totally unlike that of Boone's rough path over the Cumberlands. For settlements sprang up rapidly in this land of plenty; we have seen that there were beginnings at Chillicothe and Zanesville when Sample passed this way in 1797. By 1800, Zane's lots at the crossing of the Hockhocking (first known as New Lancaster, and later as Lancaster--from the town of that name in Pennsylvania) were selling; his terms and inducements to settlers, especially mechanics, are particularly interesting.[43] As intimated, the Kentucky division of the Maysville Pike--leading from the Ohio River through Washington, Paris, and Lexington--became famous in that it was made a test case to determine whether or not the Government had the right to assist in the building of purely state (local) roads by taking shares in local turnpike companies. This much-mooted question was settled once for all by President Andrew Jackson's veto of "A Bill Authorizing a subscription of stock in the Maysville, Washington, Paris, and Lexington Turnpike Road Company," which was passed by the House February 24, 1830. It read:[44] "_Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled_, That the Secretary of the Treasury be, and he is hereby, authorized and directed to subscribe, in the name and for the use of the United States, for fifteen hundred shares of the capital stock of the Maysville, Washington, Paris, and Lexington Turnpike Road Company, and to pay for the same at such times, and in such proportions, as shall be required of, and paid by, the stockholders generally, by the rules and regulations of the aforesaid company, to be paid out of any money in the Treasury, not otherwise appropriated: _Provided_, That not more than one-third part of the sum, so subscribed for the use of the United States, shall be demanded in the present year, nor shall any greater sum be paid on the shares so subscribed for, than shall be proportioned to assessments made on individual or corporate stockholders. "SEC. 2. _And be it further enacted_, That the said Secretary of the Treasury shall vote for the President and Directors of the aforesaid company, according to such number of shares as the United States may, at any time, hold in the stock thereof, and shall receive upon the said stock the proportion of the tolls which shall, from time to time, be due to the United States for the shares aforesaid, and shall have and enjoy, in behalf of the United States, every other right of stockholder in said Company." In his first annual message to Congress, dated December 8, 1829, President Jackson stated plainly his attitude to the great question of internal improvements. "As ... the period approaches when the application of the revenue to the payment of [national] debt will cease, the disposition of the surplus will present a subject for the serious deliberation of Congress.... Considered in connection with the difficulties which have heretofore attended appropriations for purposes of internal improvement, and with those which this experience tells us will certainly arise whenever power over such subjects may be exercised by the General Government, it is hoped that it may lead to the adoption of some plan which will reconcile the diversified interests of the States and strengthen the bonds which unite them.... To avoid these evils it appears to me that the most safe, just, and federal disposition which could be made of the surplus revenue would be its apportionment among the several States according to their ratio of representation, and should this measure not be found warranted by the Constitution that it would be expedient to propose to the States an amendment authorizing it."[45] In his veto of the Maysville Road bill President Jackson quoted the above paragraphs from his annual message, and, after citing both Madison's and Monroe's positions as to internal improvements of pure local character, continues: "The bill before me does not call for a more definate opinion upon the particular circumstances which will warrent appropriations of money by Congress to aid works of internal improvement, for although the extention of the power to apply money beyond that of carrying into effect the object for which it is appropriated has, as we have seen, been long claimed and exercised by the Federal Government, yet such grants have always been professedly under the control of the general principle that the works which might be thus aided should be 'of a general, not local, national, not State,' character. A disregard of this distinction would of necessity lead to the subversion of the federal system. That even this is an unsafe one, arbitrary in its nature, and liable, consequently, to great abuses, is too obvious to require the confirmation of experience. It is, however, sufficiently definate and imperative to my mind to forbid my approbation of any bill having the character of the one under consideration. I have given to its provisions ... reflection ... but I am not able to view it in any other light than as a measure of purely local character; or, if it can be considered national, that no further distinction between the appropriate duties of the General and State Governments need be attempted, for there can be no local interest that may not with equal propriety be denominated national. It has no connection with any established system of improvements; is exclusively within the limits of a State, starting at a point on the Ohio River and running out 60 miles to an interior town, and even as far as the State is interested conferring partial instead of general advantages. "Considering the magnitude and importance of the power, and the embarrassments to which, from the very nature of the thing, its exercise must necessarily be subjected, the real friends of internal improvement ought not to be willing to confide it to accident and chance. What is properly _national_ in its character or otherwise is an inquiry which is often extremely difficult of solution.... "If it be the wish of the people that the construction of roads and canals should be conducted by the Federal Government, it is not only highly expedient, but indispensably necessary, that a previous amendment of the Constitution, delegating the necessary power and defining and restricting its exercise with reference to the sovereignty of the States, should be made. The right to exercise as much jurisdiction as is necessary to preserve the works and to raise funds by the collection of tolls to keep them in repair can not be dispensed with. The Cumberland Road should be an instructive admonition of the consequences of acting without this right. Year after year contests are witnessed, growing out of efforts to obtain the necessary appropriations for completing and repairing this useful work. Whilst one Congress may claim and exercise the power, a succeeding one may deny it; and this fluctuation of opinion must be unavoidably fatal to any scheme which from its extent would promote the interests and elevate the character of the country.... "That a constitutional adjustment of this power upon equitable principles is in the highest degree desirable can scarcely be doubted, nor can it fail to be promoted by every sincere friend to the success of our political institutions."[46] The effect of Jackson's veto was far-reaching. It not only put an end to all thought of national aid to such local improvements as the Maysville Turnpike, but deprived such genuinely national promotions as the Baltimore and Ohio Railway of all hope of national aid. "President Jackson had strongly expressed his opposition to aiding state enterprises and schemes of internal improvement by appropriations from the central government," records a historian of that great enterprise; "from whatever source the opposition may have come, the [Baltimore and Ohio Railway] company recognized that it must not hope for aid from the national government."[47] The significance of Jackson's veto could not be more strongly presented. CHAPTER IV PIONEER TRAVEL IN KENTUCKY The following interesting and vivid picture of early travel in Kentucky is taken from Judge James Hall's _Legends of the West_ (Philadelphia, 1832); though largely a work of fiction, such descriptions as these are as lifelike as the original picture. The place at which the party landed was a small village on the bank of the [Ohio] river, distant about fifty miles from a settlement in the interior to which they were destined. "Here we are on dry land once more," said the Englishman as he jumped ashore; "come, Mr. Logan, let us go to the stage-house and take our seats." Logan smiled, and followed his companion. "My good friend," said Edgarton, to a tall, sallow man in a hunting-shirt, who sat on a log by the river with a rifle in his lap, "can you direct us to the stage-house?" "Well, I can't say that I can." "Perhaps you do not understand what we want," said Edgarton; "we wish to take seats in a mail-coach for ----." "Well, stranger, it's my sentimental belief that there isn't a coach, male or female, in the county." "This fellow is ignorant of our meaning," said Edgarton to Logan. "What's that you say, stranger? I _spose maybe_ you think I never _seed_ a coach? Well, it's a free country, and every man has a right to think what he pleases; but I reckon I've saw as many of _them are fixens_ as any other man. I was raised in Tennessee. I saw General Jackson once riding in the elegantest carriage that ever mortal man _sot_ his eyes on--with glass winders to it like a house, and _sort o'_ silk _curtings_. The harness was mounted with silver; it was _drawd_ by four blooded nags, and _druv_ by a mighty likely _nigger_ boy." The travellers passed on, and soon learned that there was indeed no stage in the country. Teams and carriages of any kind were difficult to be procured; and it was with some difficulty that two stout wagons were at last hired to carry Mr. Edgarton's movables, and a _dearborn_ obtained to convey his family, it being agreed that one of the gentlemen should drive the latter vehicle while the other walked, alternately. Arrangements were accordingly made to set out the next morning. The settlement in which Mr. Edgarton had judiciously determined to pitch his tent, and enjoy the healthful innocence and rural felicity of the farmer's life, was new; and the country to be traversed to reach it entirely unsettled. There were two or three houses scattered through the wilderness on the road, one of which the party might have reached by setting out early in the morning, and they had determined to do so. But there was so much fixing and preparing to be done, so much stowing of baggage and packing of trunks, such momentous preparations to guard against cold and heat, hunger and thirst, fatigue, accident, robbery, disease, and death, that it was near noon before the cavalcade was prepared to move. Even then they were delayed some minutes longer to give Mr. Edgarton time to oil the screws and renew the charges of his double-barrel gun and pocket-pistols. In vain he was told there were no highwaymen in America. His way lay chiefly through uninhabited forests; and he considered it a fact in natural history, as indisputable as any other elementary principle, that every such forest has its robbers. After all, he entirely neglected to put flints in his bran new locks instead of the wooden substitutes which the maker had placed there to protect his work from injury; and thus "doubly armed," he announced his readiness to start with an air of truly comic heroism. When they began their journey, new terrors arose. The road was sufficiently plain and firm for all rational purposes; that is to say, it _would do_ very well for those who only wanted to get along, and were content to make the best of it. It was a mere path beaten by a succession of travellers. No avenue had been cut for it through the woods; but the first pioneers had wound their way among the trees, avoiding obstacles by going round them, as the snake winds through the grass, and those who followed had trodden in their footsteps, until they had beaten a smooth road sufficiently wide to admit the passage of a single wagon. On either side was the thick forest, sometimes grown up with underbrush to the margin of the _trace_, and sometimes so open as to allow the eye to roam off to a considerable distance. Above was a dense canopy of interwoven branches. The wild and lonesome appearance, the deep shade, the interminable gloom of the woods, were frightful to our travellers. The difference between a wild forest in the simple majesty of nature, and the woodlands of cultivated countries, is very great. In the latter the underbrush has been removed by art or destroyed by domestic animals; the trees as they arrive at their growth are felled for use, and the remainder, less crowded, assume the spreading and rounded form of cultivated trees. The sunbeams reach the soil through the scattered foliage, the ground is trodden by grazing animals, and a hard sod is formed. However secluded such a spot may be, it bears the marks of civilization; the lowing of cattle is heard, and many species of songsters that hover round the habitations of men, and are never seen in the wilderness, here warble their notes. In the western forests of America all is grand and savage. The truth flashes instantly upon the mind of the observer, with the force of conviction, that Nature has been carrying on her operations here for ages undisturbed. The leaf has fallen from year to year; succeeding generations of trees have mouldered, spreading over the surface layer upon layer of decayed fibre, until the soil has acquired an astonishing depth and an unrivalled fertility. From this rich bed the trees are seen rearing their shafts to an astonishing height. The tendency of plants towards the light is well understood; of course, when trees are crowded closely together, instead of spreading, they shoot upwards, each endeavouring, as it were, to overtop his neighbours, and expending the whole force of the vegetative powers in rearing a great trunk to the greatest possible height, and then throwing out a top like an umbrella to the rays of the sun. The functions of vitality are carried on with vigor at the extremities, while the long stem is bare of leaves or branches; and when the undergrowth is removed nothing can exceed the gloomy grandeur of the elevated arches of foliage, supported by pillars of majestic size and venerable appearance. The great thickness and age of many of the trees is another striking peculiarity. They grow from age to age, attaining a gigantic size, and then fall, with a tremendous force, breaking down all that stands in their downward way, and heaping a great pile of timber on the ground, where it remains untouched until it is converted into soil. Mingled with all our timber are seen aspiring vines, which seem to have commenced their growth with that of the young trees, and risen with them, their tops still flourishing together far above the earth, while their stems are alike bare. The undergrowth consists of dense thickets, made up of the offspring of the larger trees, mixed with thorns, briers, dwarfish vines, and a great variety of shrubs. The ground is never covered with a firm sward, and seldom bears the grasses, or smaller plants, being covered from year to year with a dense mass of dried and decaying leaves, and shrouded in eternal shade. Such was the scene that met the eyes of our travellers, and had they been treated to a short excursion to the moon they would scarcely have witnessed any thing more novel. The wide-spread and trackless ocean had scarcely conveyed to their imaginations so vivid an impression of the vast and solitary grandeur of Nature, in her pathless wildernesses. They could hardly realize the expectation of travelling safely through such savage shades. The path, which could be seen only a few yards in advance, seemed continually to have terminated, leaving them no choice but to retrace their steps. Sometimes they came to a place where a tree had fallen across the road, and Edgarton would stop under the supposition that any further attempt to proceed was hopeless--until he saw the American drivers forsaking the track, guiding their teams among the trees, crushing down the young saplings that stood in their way, and thus winding round the obstacle, and back to the road, often through thickets so dense, that to the stranger's eye it seemed as if neither man nor beast could penetrate them. Sometimes on reaching the brink of a ravine or small stream, the bridge of logs, which previous travellers had erected, was found to be broken down, or the ford rendered impassable; and the wagoners with the same imperturbable good nature, and as if such accidents were matters of course, again left the road, and seeking out a new crossing-place, passed over with scarcely the appearance of difficulty. Once they came to a sheet of water, extending as far as the eye could reach, the tall trees standing in it as thickly as upon the dry ground, with tufts of grass and weeds instead of the usual undergrowth. "Is there a ferry here?" inquired Edgarton. "Oh no, sir, it's nothing but _a slash_." "What's that?" "Why, sir, jist a sort o' swamp." "What in the world shall we do?" "We'll jist put right ahead, sir; there's no dif-_fick_-ulty; it's nice good driving all about here. It's sort o' muddy, but there's good bottom to it all the way." On they went. To Edgarton it was like going to sea; for no road could be seen; nothing but the trackless surface of the water; but instead of looking down, where his eye could have penetrated to the bottom, he was glancing forward in the vain hope of seeing dry land. Generally the water was but a few inches deep, but sometimes they soused into a hole; then Edgarton groaned and the ladies screamed; and sometimes it got gradually deeper until the hubs of the wheels were immersed, and the Englishman then called to the wagoners to stop. "Don't be afeard, sir," one of them replied, "it is not bad; why this ain't nothing; it's right good going; it ain't a-going to swim your horse, no how." "Anything seems a good road to you where the horse will not have to swim," replied the Englishman surlily. "Why, bless you," said the backwoodsman, "this ain't no part of a priming to places that I've seed afore, no how. I've seed race paths in a worse fix than this. Don't you reckon, stranger, that if my team can drag this here heavy wagon, loaded down with plunder, you can sartainly get along with that _ar_ little carry-all, and nothing on the face of the _yeath_ to tote, but jist the women and children?" They had but one such swamp to pass. It was only about half a mile wide, and after travelling that far through the water, the firm soil of the woods, which before seemed gloomy, became cheerful by contrast; and Edgarton found at last, that however unpleasant such travelling may be to those who are not accustomed to it, it has really no dangers but such as are imaginary. As the cavalcade proceeded slowly, the ladies found it most pleasant to walk wherever the ground was sufficiently dry. Mrs. Edgarton and the children might be seen sauntering along, and keeping close to the carriage, for fear of being lost or captured by some nondescript monster of the wild, yet often halting to gather nosegays of wild flowers, or to examine some of the many natural curiosities which surrounded them.... The sun was about to set when the wagoners halted at an open spot, covered with a thick carpet of short grass, on the margin of a small stream of clear water. On inquiring the reason, Mr. Edgarton was assured that this was the best _campground_ on the route, and as there was no house within many miles, it was advisable to make arrangements for passing the night there. "Impossible!" exclaimed the European gentleman; "what! lie on the ground like beasts! we shall all catch our death of cold!" "I should never live through the night," groaned his fair partner.... "Don't let us stay here in the dark, papa," cried the children. Logan expressed the opinion that an encampment might be made quite comfortable, and the sentimental Julia declared that it would be "delightful!" Edgarton imprecated maledictions on the beggarly country which could not afford inns for travellers, and wondered if they expected a gentleman to nestle among the leaves like Robin Hood's foresters.... This storm, like other sudden gusts, soon blew over, and the party began in earnest to make the best of a bad business by rendering their situation as comfortable as possible. The wagoners, though highly amused at the fears of their companions, showed great alacrity and kindness in their endeavours to dissipate the apprehensions and provide for the comfort of foreigners; and, assisted by Mr. Logan, soon prepared a shelter. This was made by planting some large stakes in the ground, in the form of a square, filling up the sides and covering the tops with smaller poles, and suspending blankets over and around it, so as to form a complete enclosure. Mrs. Edgarton had a carpet taken from the wagons and spread on the ground; on this the beds were unpacked and laid, trunks were arranged for seats, and the emigrants surprised at finding themselves in a comfortable apartment, became as merry as they had been before despondent. A fire was kindled and the teakettle boiled, and there being a large store of bread and provisions already prepared, an excellent repast was soon placed before them, and eaten with the relish produced by severe exercise. The night had now closed in, but the blaze of a large fire and the light of several candles threw a brilliant gleam over the spot and heightened the cheerfulness of the evening meal. The arrangements for sleeping were very simple. The tent, which had been divided into two apartments by a curtain suspended in the middle, accommodated all of Mr. Edgarton's household: Logan drew on his greatcoat, and spreading a single blanket on the ground, threw himself down with his feet to the fire; the teamsters crept into their wagons, and the several parties soon enjoyed that luxury which, if Shakspeare may be believed, is often denied to the "head that wears a crown." The light of the morning brought with it cheerfulness and merriment. Refreshed from the fatigues of the preceding day, inspired with new confidence, and amused by the novelties that surrounded them, the emigrants were in high spirits. Breakfast was hastily prepared, and the happy party, seated in a circle on the grass, enjoyed their meal with a keen relish. The horses were then harnessed and the cavalcade renewed its march. The day was far advanced when they began to rise to more elevated ground than that over which they had travelled. The appearance of the woods was sensibly changed. They were now travelling over a high upland tract with a gently-waving surface, and instead of the rank vegetation, the dense foliage and gloomy shades by which they had been surrounded, beheld woodlands composed of smaller trees thinly scattered and intermingled with rich thickets of young timber. The growth though thick was low, so that the rays of the sun penetrated through many openings, and the beaten path which they pursued was entirely exposed to the genial beams. Groves of the wild apple, the plum, and the cherry, now in full bloom, added a rich beauty to the scene and a delightful fragrance to the air. But the greatest natural curiosity and the most attractive scenic exhibitions of our Western hemisphere was still in reserve; and a spontaneous expression of wonder and delight burst from the whole party, as they emerged from the woods and stood on the edge of _a prairie_. They entered a long vista, carpeted with grass, interspersed with numberless flowers, among which the blue violet predominated; while the edges of the forest on either hand were elegantly fringed with low thickets loaded with blossoms--those of the plum and cherry of snowy whiteness, and those of the crab-apple of a delicate pink. Above and beyond these were seen the rich green, the irregular outline, and the variegated light and shade of the forest. As if to produce the most beautiful perspective, and to afford every variety of aspect, the vista increased in width until it opened like the estuary of a great river into the broad prairie, and as our travellers advanced the woodlands receded on either hand, and sometimes indented by smaller avenues opening into the woods, and sometimes throwing out points of timber, so that the boundary of the plain resembled the irregular outline of a shore as traced on a map. [Illustration: PIONEER VIEW OF HOUSES AT FORT CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND] Delighted with the lovely aspect of Nature in these the most tasteful of her retreats, the party lingered along until they reached the margin of the broad prairie, where a noble expanse of scenery of the same character was spread out on a larger scale. They stood on a rising ground, and beheld before them a vast plain, undulating in its surface so as to present to the eye a series of swells and depressions, never broken nor abrupt, but always regular, and marked by curved lines. Here and there was seen a deep ravine or drain, by which the superfluous water was carried off, the sides of which were thickly set with willows. Clumps of elm and oak were scattered about far apart like little islands; a few solitary trees were seen, relieving the eye as it wandered over the ocean-like surface of this native meadow. It so happened that a variety of accidents and delays impeded the progress of our emigrants, so that the shadows of evening began to fall upon them, while they were yet far from the termination of their journey, and it became necessary again to seek a place of repose for the night. The prospect of encamping again had lost much of its terrors, but they were relieved from the contemplation of this last resource of the houseless, by the agreeable information that they were drawing near the house of a farmer who was in the habit of "accommodating travellers." It was further explained that Mr. Goodman did not keep a public-house, but that he was "well off," "had houseroom enough, and plenty to eat," and that "_of course_," according to the hospitable customs of the country, he entertained any strangers who sought shelter under his roof. Thither they bent their steps, anticipating from the description of it a homestead much larger and more comfortable than the cheerless-looking log-cabins which had thus far greeted their eyes, and which seemed to compose the only dwellings of the population. On arriving at the place, they were a little disappointed to find that the abundance of _houseroom_ which had been promised them was a mere figure of speech, an idiomatic expression by a native, having a comparative signification. The dwelling was a log house, differing from others only in being of a larger size and better construction. The logs were hewed and squared instead of being put up in their original state, with the bark on; the apertures were carefully closed, and the openings representing windows, instead of being stopped when urgent occasion required the exclusion of the atmosphere, by hats, old baskets, or cast-off garments, were filled with glass, in imitation of the dwellings of more highly civilized lands. The wealth of this farmer, consisting chiefly of the _plenty to eat_ which had been boasted, was amply illustrated by the noisy and numerous crowd of chickens, ducks, turkeys, pigs, and cattle, that cackled, gobbled, and grunted about the house, filling the air with social though discordant sounds, and so obstructing the way as scarcely to leave room for the newly-arrived party to approach the door. As the cavalcade halted, the foremost driver made the fact known by a vociferous salutation. "Hal-low! Who keeps house?" A portly dame made her appearance at the door, and was saluted with,-- "How de do, ma'am--all well, ma'am?" "All right well, thank you, sir." "Here's some strangers that wants lodging; can we get to stay all night with you?" "Well, I don't know; _he's_ not at home, and I harly know what to say." "I'll answer for _him_," replied the driver, who understood distinctly that the pronoun used so emphatically by the good lady alluded to her inferior moiety; "he wouldn't turn away strangers at this time of day when the chickens is jist goin to roost. We've ben a travellin all day, and our critters is mighty tired and hungry, as well as the rest of us." "Well," said the woman, very cheerfully, "I reckon you can stay; if you can put up with such fare as we have, you are very welcome. My man will be back soon; he's only jist gone up to town." The whole party were now received into the dwelling of the backwoodsman by the smiling and voluble hostess, whose assiduous cordiality placed them at once at their ease in spite of the plain and primitive, and to them uncomfortable aspect of the log house. Indeed, nothing could be more uninviting in appearance to those who were accustomed only to the more convenient dwellings of a state of society farther advanced in the arts of social life. It was composed of two large apartments or separate cabins, connected by an area or space which was floored and roofed, but open at the sides, and which served as a convenient receptacle to hang saddles, bridles, and harness, or to stow travellers' baggage, while in fine weather it served as a place in which to eat or sit. In the room into which our party was shown there was neither plastering nor paper, nor any device of modern ingenuity to conceal the bare logs that formed the sides of the house, neither was there a carpet on the floor, nor any furniture for mere ornament. The absence of all superfluities and of many of the conveniences usually deemed essential in household economy was quite striking. A table, a few chairs, a small looking-glass, some cooking utensils, and a multitudinous array of women's apparel, hung round on wooden pins, as if for show, made up the meagre list, whether for parade or use, with the addition of several bedsteads closely ranged on one side of the room, supporting beds of the most plethoric and dropsical dimensions, covered with clean cotton bedding, and ostentatiously tricked out with gaudy, parti-colored quilts. The "man" soon made his appearance, a stout, weatherbeaten person, of rough exterior, but not less hospitably disposed than his better half, and the whole household were now actively astir to furnish forth the evening's repast, nor was their diligent kindness, nor the inquisitive though respectful cross-examination which accompanied it, at all diminished when they discovered that their guests were English people. Soon the ample fire-place, extending almost across one end of the house, was piled full of blazing logs; the cries of affrighted fowls and other significant notes of preparation announced that active operations were commenced in the culinary department. An array of pots and kettles, skillets, ovens, and frying-pans, covered the hearth, and the astonished travellers discovered that the room they occupied was not only used as a bedchamber, but "served them for parlour, and kitchen, and hall." We shall not attempt to describe the processes of making bread, cooking meat and vegetables, and preparing the delightful beverage of the evening meal, a portion of which took place in the presence of the surprised and amused guests, while other parts were conducted under a shed out of doors. A large table was soon spread with clean linen, and covered with a profusion of viands such as probably could not be found on the board of the mere peasant or labouring farmer in any other part of the world.[48] Coffee was there, with sweet milk and buttermilk in abundance; fried chickens, venison, and ham: cheese, sweetmeats, pickles, dried fruit, and honey; bread of wheat and corn, hot biscuits and cakes, with fresh butter; all well prepared and neat, and all pressed upon the hungry travellers with officious hospitality. Had the entertainment been furnished in regal style at some enchanted castle by invisible hands, the guests could scarcely have been more surprised by the profusion and variety of the backwoods repast, so far did the result produced exceed the apparent means afforded by the desolate-looking and scantily-furnished cabin. If our worthy travellers were surprised by the novelties of backwoods _inn_-hospitality which thus far had pressed upon them, how much was their wonder increased when the hour for retiring arrived, and the landlady apologized for being obliged to separate guests from their hosts. "Our family is so large," said the woman, "that we have to have two rooms. I shall have to put all of you strangers into a room by yourselves." The party were accordingly conducted into the other apartment, which was literally filled with arrangements for sleeping, there being several bedsteads, each of which was closely curtained with sheets, blankets, and coverlids hung around it for the occasion, while the whole floor was strewed with pallets. Here Mr. Edgarton and his whole party, including Logan and the teamsters, were expected to sleep. A popular poet, in allusion to this patriarchal custom, impertinently remarks, Some cavillers Object to sleep with fellow-travellers. And on this occasion the objection was uttered vehemently, the ladies declaring that martyrdom in any shape would be preferable to lodging thus like a drove of cattle. Unreasonable as such scruples might have seemed, they were so pertinaciously adhered to on the one side, and so obstinately resisted by the exceedingly difficult nature of the case on the other, that there is no knowing to what extremities matters might have gone, had not a compromise been effected by which Logan and the wagon-drivers were transferred into the room occupied by the farmer's family, while the Edgartons, the sister, the maid, the greyhound, the pug-dog, and the parrot, remained sole occupants of the apartment prepared for them. FOOTNOTES: [1] _Diary of George Washington, Sept. 2 to Oct. 4, 1784._ [2] Cf. "Journal of Lieut. Robert Parker," _The Pennsylvania Magazine_, vol. xxvii, No. 108, pp. 404-420. [3] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. v, p. 93. [4] _Wisconsin Historical Collections_, vol. xi, p. 230. [5] _Public Documents Relating to the New York Canals_ (New York, 1821), p. 312. [6] _Id._, pp. 352-353. [7] _A Pedestrious Tour_, by Estwick Evans. [8] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. xiii, ch. 4. [9] Watson's _Annals of Philadelphia_, vol. i, p. 257. [10] See "Hulme's Journal" in W. Cobbett's _A Year's Residence in the United States_ (1819), p. 490. [11] D. Hewett's _American Traveller_ (1825), p. 222. [11*] It is curious to note that while the introduction of coaches is said here to be injurious to the breed of horses, Macaulay, a century or so later, decried the passing of the coach and the old coaching days because this, too, meant the destruction of the breed of horses!--See _Historic Highways of America_, vol. x, p. 122. [12] Florida Avenue is said to have been the first street laid out on the present site of Washington, D. C. As it is the most crooked of all the streets and avenues this is easy to believe. [13] _Retrospect of Western Travel_, vol. i, pp. 88-89. [14] Moore's notes are as follows: On "ridges" (line 3): "What Mr. Weld [an English traveler in America] says of the national necessity of balancing or trimming the stage, in passing over some of the wretched roads in America, is by no means exaggerated. 'The driver frequently had to call to the passengers in the stage to lean out of the carriage, first on one side, then on the other, to prevent it from oversetting in the deep ruts, with which the road abounds. "Now, gentlemen, to the right!" upon which the passengers all stretched their bodies half out of the carriage to balance on that side. "Now, gentlemen, to the left!" and so on.'--_Weld's Travels._" On "bridges" (line 4): "Before the stage can pass one of these bridges the driver is obliged to stop and arrange the loose planks, of which it is composed, in the manner that best suits his ideas of safety, and as the planks are again disturbed by the passing of the coach, the next travelers who arrive have, of course, a new arrangement to make. Mahomet, as Sale tells us, was at some pains to imagine a precarious kind of bridge for the entrance of paradise, in order to enhance the pleasures of arrival. A Virginia bridge, I think, would have answered his purpose completely." [15] _Sketch of the Civil Engineering of North America_, pp. 132-133. [16] "The Oldest Turnpike in Pennsylvania," by Edward B. Moore, in Philadelphia _Press_ or Delaware County _American_, June 22, 1901; and "The Old Turnpike," by A. E. Witmer in _Lancaster County Historical Society Papers_, vol. ii (November, 1897), pp. 67-86. [17] Sherman Day, _Historical Collections of the State of Pennsylvania_ (Philadelphia, 1843). [18] The rise of the Pennsylvania canal and railway system will be treated in chapter four of _Historic Highways of America_, vol. xiii. [18*] For these and other facts concerning plank roads we are indebted to W. Kingsford's _History, Structure and Statistics of Plank Roads_ (1852). [19] The frontispiece to this volume represents a mile-stone which was erected beside Braddock's old road, near Frostburg, Maryland, during the Revolutionary War. On the reverse side it bears the legend, "Our Countrys Rights We Will Defend." On the front these words can be traced: "[12 ?] Miles to Fort Cumberland 29 Miles to Capt Smith's Inn & Bridge by Crossings. [Smithfield, Pennsylvania] the Best Road to Redstone Old Fort 64 M." The stone was once taken away for building purposes and broken; the town authorities of Frostburg ordered it to be cemented, returned and set up on its old-time site. [20] The Lancaster Turnpike. [21] "In these stages," as Brissot [Jean Pierre Brissot de Warville, _New Travels in the United States_ (London, 1794)] observes, "you meet with men of all professions. The member of congress is placed by the side of the shoemaker who elected him; they fraternise together, and converse with familiarity. You see no person here take upon him those important airs which you too often meet with in England."--BAILY. [22] It consists of several layers of large logs laid longitudinally, and parallel to each other, and covered at the top with earth.--BAILY. [23] The sleighs not making any noise when in motion over the snow, the horses are obliged by law to have little bells fastened around their necks, to warn foot-passengers of their approach.--BAILY. [24] I was in company with a gentleman of the name of Heighway, who was going down to the northwestern settlement to form a plantation.--BAILY. See p. 144. [25] By D. Hewett's _American Traveller_, the principal points on the Washington-Pittsburg route are given as follows: Distance. Montgomery c. h. 14. Clarksburg 13. Monocasy River 8. Fredericktown 7. Hagerstown 27. Pennsylvania State line 8. M'Connell'stown 20. Junietta River 17. Bedford 14. Stoyestown 27. Summit of Laurel Hill 13. Greensburg 26. Pittsburg 32. Total 226. [26] Mr. Hewett gives this note of Montgomery C. H.: "This village is also called Rockville. There is an extremely bad turnpike from Washington to this place, so much so, that the man who keeps the toll house, _after_ having taken toll, recommends travellers to go the _ola road_."--p. 51. [27] All the inns and public-houses on the road are called taverns.--BAILY. [28] Clarksburg. [29] Hagar's-town is ten miles from Boone's-town.--BAILY. [30] McDowell's Mill. [31] Mr. Heighway, an Englishman who settled now at Waynesville, Warren County, Ohio.--_History of Warren County, Ohio_ (Chicago, 1882), p. 412. [32] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. ii, p. 109. [33] The patriot-pioneer of Wheeling, the first settlement on the Ohio River below Pittsburg, which he founded in 1769, and where he lived until 1811. He was born in Virginia in 1747. [34] The importance of the historic _entrepôt_ Limestone Mason County, Kentucky (later named Maysville from one of its first inhabitants) has been suggested in Volume IX of this series (pp. 70, 89, 128). It was the most important entrance point into Kentucky on its northeastern river shore-line. What it was in earliest days, because of the buffalo trail into the interior, it remained down through the earlier and later pioneer era to the time of the building of the trunk railway lines. [35] _United States Statutes at Large, Private Laws 1789-1845, inclusive_, p. 27. [36] _American Pioneer_, vol. i, p. 158. [37] An exaggerated statement, yet much in accord with the truth, as we have previously observed. [38] County seat of Adams County, Ohio. [39] Evans and Stivers, _History of Adams County, Ohio_, p. 125. [40] Wilcoxon's clearing, Sinking Spring, Highland County, Ohio.--_Id._, p. 125. [41] _Id._, p. 88. [42] _Society and Solitude_, essay on "Civilization," pp. 25-26. [43] See Graham's _History of Fairfield and Perry Counties, Ohio_, pp. 133-134. [44] _Bills & Resolutions, House Reps., 1st Sess., 21st Cong., Part 2, 1829 & '30_, H. R., p. 285. [45] Richardson's _Messages and Papers of the Presidents_, vol. ii, pp. 451, 452. [46] _Id._, pp. 483-493. [47] Reizenstein's "The Economic History of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad," _Johns Hopkins Studies in Historical and Political Science_, fifteenth series, vii-viii, p. 23. [48] I cannot resist the opportunity of nailing to the counter a wretched fabrication of some traveller, who represents himself as dismounting at a Western house of entertainment, and inquiring the price of a dinner. The answer is, "Well, stranger--with wheat bread and chicken fixens, it would be fifty cents, but with corn bread and common doins, twenty-five cents." The slang here used is of the writer's own invention. No one ever heard in the West of "chicken fixens," or "common doins." On such occasions, the table is spread with everything that the house affords, or with whatever may be convenient, according to the means and temper of the entertainers. A meal is a meal, and the cost is the same, whether it be plentiful or otherwise.--HALL. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected. 3. Footnotes have been moved to the end of the main text body. 4. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest paragraph break. 
28607	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) THE ROAD AND THE ROADSIDE. By BURTON WILLIS POTTER. BOSTON: LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 1886. _Copyright, 1886_, BY BURTON WILLIS POTTER. UNIVERSITY PRESS: JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. TO THE HONORABLE JOHN E. RUSSELL, SECRETARY OF THE MASSACHUSETTS BOARD OF AGRICULTURE, These Pages are Respectfully Inscribed, AS A TOKEN OF MY LOVE AND ESTEEM FOR HIM AS A TRUE FRIEND, A CLASSICAL SCHOLAR, AND AN ELOQUENT ORATOR, WHOSE SPEECHES AND WRITINGS HAVE AIDED POWERFULLY IN BRINGING ABOUT A REVIVAL OF AGRICULTURE, AND IN CREATING AMONG THE PEOPLE A LOVE OF AGRICULTURE AND RURAL LIFE. Transcriber's Note: The asterisks in footnotes 89 and 92 have do not have corresponding references in the text. PREFACE. The chapters of this book relating to the laws of public and private ways were written and read as a lecture at the Country Meeting of the Massachusetts Board of Agriculture, in December, 1885, at Framingham, and have since been published in the "Report on the Agriculture of Massachusetts for the Year 1885." The laws as herein stated are, as I believe, the present laws of Massachusetts relative to public and private ways, and therefore they may not all be applicable to the ways in other States; but inasmuch as the common law is the basis of the road law in all the States, it will be found that the general principles herein laid down are as applicable in one State as in another. Believing that good roads and the love of rural life are essential to the true happiness and lasting prosperity of any people, these pages have been written with the sincere desire to do something to improve our roads and to encourage country life; and they are now given to the public with the hope that they will exert some little influence in promoting these objects. B. W. P. WORCESTER, MASS., _May, 1886_. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. HISTORY, IMPORTANCE, AND SIGNIFICANCE OF ROADS. PAGE Roads the symbols of progress and civilization. Macaulay and Bushnell on the value of public highways. The first sponsors of art, science, and government were the builders of roads. The ancient highway between Babylon and Memphis. The Carthaginians as road-makers. Roman roads: their construction, extent, and durability; their instrumentality in giving Rome her pre-eminence in the ancient world; their mode of construction described. Ponderous roads in China. Magnificent highways in the ancient empires of Mexico and Peru. Prescott's description of the great roads in Peru. Bad condition of the English roads in the sixteenth century. With the revival of modern civilization the improvement of the public highways has engaged the thought of public and scientific men. Advantages of good roads generally and especially as the means of a proper distribution of population. 1-11 CHAPTER II. LOCATION. Best possible location desirable. Permanent nature of roads. Many of the ancient roads are still travelled by the people of to-day. The law of the survival of the fittest applicable to the location of roads. The makers of a good road often build better than they know. Roads may be located in three different ways. The old Romans and the modern Latin nations locate in straight lines. The English-speaking people usually locate their roads in curved lines. Curved roads have many advantages over straight ones, as good grades are more desirable than straight roads. 12-16 CHAPTER III. CONSTRUCTION. Importance of drainage. Good roads impossible without proper drainage. Proper width of roads for travel. They should be wide enough to admit of foot-paths at their sides. Every road should be crowned sufficiently to run off the surface water, but not enough to make the road-bed too unlevel. The golden mean is to be sought. A macadamized road the cheapest and best for our climate and soil. Proper foundation and depth of stone covering for such a road. The Telford road sometimes the best for clayey soil. Its construction. They will be the future roads of our country. Earth-roads now generally prevail. How to make them, and how to keep them up. 17-21 CHAPTER IV. REPAIRS. Economy and public convenience require roads to be kept up the year round. Advantages of a road always in good condition. Evils of the present system of annual or semi-annual repairs. The present system described. Advantages of the continual-repair system illustrated by the great turnpike from Virginia City to Sacramento, by Baden, Germany, France, Switzerland, Great Britain, and towns in the vicinity of our great cities. This system alone will prevail when the principles of road-making become better known. 22-27 CHAPTER V. LAWS RELATING TO THE LAYING OUT OF WAYS. For what purposes ways may be laid out, and how they may be established. May be laid out by town or county authorities. Distinction between town ways and public highways. When the public officials refuse to lay out ways, parties interested may appeal. How damages are avoided and costs paid. 28-31 CHAPTER VI. LAW AS TO REPAIRS. How and by whom ways are to be kept in repair. The duties and rights of the public authorities in making repairs. The boundaries of highways. The rights of travellers as to the removal of obstructions in the road. Unauthorized persons have no right to repair ways. Highways to be protected by proper railings. How wide roads should be. 32-35 CHAPTER VII. GUIDE-POSTS, DRINKING-TROUGHS, AND FOUNTAINS. Guide-posts to be erected and maintained at suitable places. Penalties attached to neglect or refusal to erect and maintain them. Town officers may establish and maintain drinking-troughs, wells, and fountains. Their duty in this respect. 36-38 CHAPTER VIII. SHADE TREES, PARKS, AND COMMONS. Towns and cities have authority to beautify the roadsides and public squares. May plant trees and encourage their planting by adjoining owners and improvement societies. The rights of improvement societies and the penalties for interfering with their work. Shade trees and other ornamental fixtures not to be injured or destroyed. 39-41 CHAPTER IX. PUBLIC USE OF HIGHWAYS. How roads are to be used by the public and adjoining owners. Due care to be used by travellers. Masters responsible for their servants' acts. No responsibility for inevitable accidents. What is a proper rate of speed. 42-44 CHAPTER X. "THE LAW OF THE ROAD." Rules for the meeting, passing, and conduct of teams on the road. These rules not inflexible. When they may be deviated from. Each traveller has a right to a fair share of the road. The rights of light and heavily loaded vehicles. When a traveller with team may use track of street railway. 45-49 CHAPTER XI. EQUESTRIANS AND PEDESTRIANS. Equestrians must give way for vehicles. "The law of the road" does not apply to them by the terms of the statutes, but they should observe it as far as practicable. Pedestrians have a right to walk on carriage-way. In cities they should walk on the sidewalks. They must use due care. Their rights on cross-walks. They are not subject to "the law of the road." They may walk out on Sunday for their health. 50-53 CHAPTER XII. OMNIBUSES, STAGES, AND HORSE-CARS. Carriers of passengers for hire are bound to use due diligence in providing suitable coaches, harnesses, horses, and coachmen. They must not leave their horses unhitched. If they receive passengers when their coaches are already full, they must use increased care. Passengers must pay fare in advance, if demanded. 54-56 CHAPTER XIII. PURPOSES FOR WHICH HIGHWAYS MAY BE USED. Public ways are mainly for the use of travellers, but they may be used for other public purposes, gas, water-pipes, sewers, street railways, telephone and telegraph lines, etc. Every one may use the highway to his own advantage, but with regard to the like rights of others. What animals and vehicles are allowed upon the road. Towns and cities may regulate by by-laws the use and management of the public ways. 57-61 CHAPTER XIV. USE OF HIGHWAYS BY ADJOINING OWNERS. They own the fee in the land, and are entitled to all the profits of the freehold, the grass, the trees, fruit, etc. If the land in the way is subjected to any new servitude, like an elevated railroad or telegraph or telephone lines, they are entitled to damages. They can load and unload vehicles in connection with their business on their premises, but it must be done in such a manner as not to incommode the travelling public. They must not fill up the roadside with logs, wood, or rubbish of any kind. 62-69 CHAPTER XV. PRIVATE WAYS. Private ways may be established and discontinued in the same manner as public ways. The owner of such way must keep it in repair. The owner of the soil may use it for agricultural purposes, and keep up bars and gates. "The law of the road" applies to private ways. 70-72 CHAPTER XVI. DON'T. Don't drink intoxicating liquors when travelling. Don't forget to look out for the engine while the bell rings. Don't take animals affected by contagious diseases on the public way. Don't go upon the road if you are afflicted with a contagious or infectious disease. Don't go out sleigh-riding without bells attached to your harness. Don't try to drive a horse on the road unless you know how to manage him. Don't ride with a careless driver. Don't use a vicious horse, or let him to be used on the road. Don't let your horses get beyond your control. Don't encroach upon or abuse the highway. Don't ride on the outside platform of a passenger coach. Don't jump off a coach when it is in motion. Don't wilfully break down, injure, remove, or destroy a milestone, mile-board, or guide-post. Don't go out of the road-way upon adjoining land. Don't suppose that everything that frightens your horse or causes an accident is a defect in the highway. Don't fail to give notice in writing if you meet with an accident on the road. Don't convey land encumbered with a right of way. Don't keep a barking dog. 73-83 CHAPTER XVII. FOOT-PATHS. Necessity of air, sunlight, and exercise. The progenitors of every vigorous race have found in forest and wilderness the sources of their strength. The Israelites, Greeks, Romans, Dutch, Anglo-Saxons. The teachings of Nature essential to the development of the human mind. Job, David, Plato, Aristotle, Christ, Wordsworth. Foot-paths tend to bring people into the open air and into communion with Nature. The by-ways of old England. Towns and cities should lay out foot-paths. 84-88 CHAPTER XVIII. WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE ROADSIDE. Every dweller under obligation to maintain neatness and order within and without his roadside. Unselfish exertion in this behalf pays. He who beautifies the roadside benefits mankind and himself alike. A dirty and shabby dwelling gives a traveller a mean idea of its inmates. A cosey and clean house always speaks well for its inmates. Every homestead should be adorned with trees. The beauty and utility of trees. They are inseparable from well-tilled land and beautiful scenery. Wayside shrubbery: its use and abuse; it should be allowed where green grass will not grow. 89-94 CHAPTER XIX. ENJOYMENT OF THE ROAD. A traveller should have a hopeful and sunshiny disposition. He should be in harmony with Nature; he should have an observing eye to enjoy the _latent_ enjoyments of the way. How the observing faculties may be cultivated. The pleasures incident to knowing how to appreciate the beautiful in Nature. The different degrees of enjoyment in the same situation. The love of Nature the sign of goodness of heart. Ruskin, Wordsworth, Christ. What an observing traveller can see to admire and enjoy on the road, grass, flowers, trees, as reminders of human beings, domestic and pastoral scenery, mountains, animal and vegetable life, sun and sunlight, latent enjoyments in himself. 95-104 THE ROAD AND THE ROADSIDE. CHAPTER I. HISTORY, IMPORTANCE, AND SIGNIFICANCE OF ROADS. The development of the means of communication between different communities, peoples, and races has ever been coexistent with the progress of civilization. Lord Macaulay declares that of all inventions, the alphabet and printing-press alone excepted, those inventions which abridge distance have done most for the civilization of our species. Every improvement of the means of locomotion benefits mankind morally and intellectually as well as materially. "The road," Bushnell says, "is that physical sign or symbol by which you will best understand any age or people. If they have no roads, they are savages; for the road is the creation of man and a type of civilized society. If you wish to know whether society is stagnant, learning scholastic, religion a dead formality, you may learn something by going into universities and libraries, something also by the work that is doing on cathedrals and churches or in them, but quite as much by looking at the roads; for if there is any motion in society, the road, which is the symbol of motion, will indicate the fact." As roads are the symbols of progress, so, according to the philosophy of Carlyle, they should only be used by working and progressive people, as he asserts that the public highways ought not to be occupied by people demonstrating that motion is impossible. Hence, when we trace back the history of the race to the dawn of civilization, we find that the first sponsors of art and science, commerce and manufacture, education and government, were the builders and supporters of public highways. The two most ancient civilizations situated in the valleys of the Nile and the Euphrates were connected by a commercial and military highway leading from Babylon to Memphis, along which passed the war chariots and the armies of the great chieftains and military kings of ancient days, and over which were carried the gems, the gold, the spices, the ivories, the textile fabrics, and all the curious and unrivalled productions of the luxurious Orient. On the line of this roadway arose Nineveh, Palmyra, Damascus, Tyre, Antioch, and other great commercial cities. On the southern shores of the Mediterranean the Carthaginians built up and consolidated an empire so prominent in military and naval achievements and in the arts and industries of civilized life, that for four hundred years it was able to hold its own against the preponderance of Greece and Rome; and as might have been expected, they were systematic and scientific road-makers from whom the Romans learned the art of road-building. The Romans were apt scholars, and possessed a wonderful capacity not only to utilize prior inventions but also to develop them. They were beyond question the most successful and masterful road-builders in the ancient world; and the perfection of their highways was one of the most potent causes of their superiority in progress and civilization. When they conquered a province they not only annexed it politically, by imposing on its people their laws and system of government, but they annexed it socially and commercially, by the construction of good roads from its chief places to one or more of the great roadways which brought them in easy and direct communication with the metropolis of the Roman world. And when their territory reached from the remote east to the farthest west, and a hundred millions of people acknowledged their military and political supremacy, their capital city was in the centre of such a network of highways that it was then a common saying, "All roads lead to Rome." From the forum of Rome a broad and magnificent highway ran out towards every province of the empire. It was terraced up with sand, gravel, and cement, and covered with stones and granite, and followed in a direct line without regard to the configuration of the country, passing over or under mountains and across streams and lakes, on arches of solid masonry. The military roads were under the pretors, and were called pretorian roads; and the public roads for travel and commercial traffic were under the consuls, and were called consular roads. These roads were kept entirely distinct; the pretorian roads were used for the marching of armies and the transportation of military supplies, and the consular roads were used for traffic and general travel. They were frequently laid out alongside of each other from place to place, very much as railroads and highways are now found side by side. The consular roads were generally twelve feet wide in the travelled pathway, with a raised footway on the side; but sometimes the footway was in the middle of the road, with a carriage-way on each side of it. The military roads were generally sixty feet wide, with an elevated centre, twenty feet wide, and slopes upon either side, also twenty feet wide. Stirrups were not then invented, and mounting stones or blocks were necessary accommodations; and hence the lines of the roads were studded with mounting-blocks and also with milestones. Some of these roads could be travelled to the north and eastward two thousand miles; and they were kept in such good repair that a traveller thereon, by using relays of horses, which were kept on the road, could easily make a hundred miles a day. Far as the eye could see stretched those symbols of her all-conquering and all-attaining influence, which made the most distant provinces a part of her dominions, and connected them with her imperial capital by imperial highways. The Romans not only had great public highways, but they possessed a complete and systematic network of cross-roads, which connected villages, and brought into communication therewith cultivated farms and prosperous homesteads. In Italy alone it is estimated that they had about fourteen thousand miles of good roads. Their laws relating to the construction and maintenance of highways were founded in reason and a just conception of the uses and objects of public ways; and they are the basis of modern highway legislation. By their law the roads were for the public use and convenience, and their emperors, consuls, and other public officials were their conservators. They were built at the public expense, under the supervision of professional engineers and surveyors, and kept in repair by the districts and provinces through which they passed. But during the dark ages, when arts were lost, when popular learning disappeared or found shelter only in cloisters and convents, when commercial intercourse between nations vanished, and when civilization itself lay fallen and inert, these magnificent Roman roads were unused and left to the destructive agencies of time and the elements of Nature. Rains and floods washed away and inundated their embankments; forests and rank vegetation overgrew and concealed them; winds covered them with dust and heaps of sand; and little by little in the process of ages their hard surfaces and massive foundations were somewhat broken and caused to partially decay. That their remains still exist in every part of the world which ever bore up the Roman legions is conclusive evidence that they were built by master workmen who realized that they were responsible to posterity and to the eternal powers. "In the elder days of Art Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the gods see everywhere." In China, at one time, labor was so abundant that it was kept employed in constructing great walls and ponderous roads. The road-bed was raised several feet above the level of the ground by an accumulation of great stones, and then covered with huge granite blocks. It was found that in time the wheels of vehicles wore deep ruts in the stones, while the travelled part of the road became so smooth that it was almost impossible for animals to stand thereon. In the ancient empires of Mexico and Peru, where there were no beasts fit for draught or for riding, magnificent roads were constructed for the treble purpose of facilitating the march of armies, accommodating the public traffic, and ministering to the convenience and luxury of the lordly rulers. In Peru two of these roads were from fifteen hundred to two thousand miles long, extending from Quito to Chili,--one by the borders of the ocean, and the other over the grand plateau by the mountains. Prescott says: "The road over the plateau was conducted over pathless sierras buried in snow; galleries were cut for leagues through the living rock; rivers were crossed by means of bridges that swung suspended in the air; precipices were scaled by stairways hewn out of the native bed; ravines of hideous depth were filled up with solid masonry; in short, all the difficulties that beset a wild and mountainous region, and which might appall the most courageous engineer of modern times, were encountered and successfully overcome. Stone pillars in the manner of European milestones were erected at stated intervals of somewhat more than a league all along the route. Its breadth scarcely exceeded twenty feet. It was built of heavy flags of freestone, and in some parts, at least, covered with a bituminous cement, which time has made harder than the stone itself. In some places where the ravines had been filled up with masonry, the mountain torrents, wearing on it for ages, have gradually eaten a way through the base, and left the superincumbent mass--such is the cohesion of the materials--still spanning the valley like an arch. "Another great road of the Incas lay through the level country between the Andes and the ocean. It was constructed in a different manner, as demanded by the nature of the ground, which was for the most part low, and much of it sandy. The causeway was raised on a high embankment of earth, and defended on either side by a parapet or wall of clay; and trees and odoriferous shrubs were planted along the margin, regaling the sense of the traveller with their perfume, and refreshing him by their shades, so grateful under the burning sky of the tropics. "The care of the great roads was committed to the districts through which they passed, and a large number of hands was constantly employed to keep them in repair. This was the more easily done in a country where the mode of travelling was altogether on foot; though the roads are said to have been so nicely constructed that a carriage might have rolled over them as securely as on any of the great roads of Europe. Still, in a region where the elements of fire and water are both actively at work in the business of destruction, they must without constant supervision have gradually gone to decay. Such has been their fate under the Spanish conquerors, who took no care to enforce the admirable system for their preservation adopted by the Incas. Yet the broken portions that still survive here and there, like the fragments of the great Roman roads scattered over Europe, bear evidence of their primitive grandeur, and have drawn forth eulogium from the discriminating traveller; for Humboldt, usually not profuse in his panegyrics, says, 'The roads of the Incas were among the most useful and stupendous works ever executed by man.'" With the revival of human thought and civilization after the Middle Ages, the improvement of the roads engaged the attention of public and scientific men, and became once more an object of government; but for a long time the rulers who concerned themselves about roads thought more about repressing the crimes of violence and extortion thereon than they did about improving their condition for travel. The first act of the English Parliament relative to the improvement of roads in the kingdom was in 1523; yet in 1685 most of the roads in England were in a deplorable condition. Macaulay says that on the best highways at that time the ruts were deep, the descents precipitous, and the way often such that it was hardly possible to distinguish it in the dark from the unenclosed heath and fen which lay on both sides. It was only in fine weather that the whole breadth of the road was available for wheeled vehicles; often the mud lay deep on the right and on the left, and only a narrow track of firm ground rose above the quagmire. It happened almost every day that coaches stuck fast until a team of cattle could be procured from some neighboring farm to tug them out of the slough. But to the honor of England, this condition of her roads was not allowed to continue very long. Although her progress in trade and prosperity has been marvellously rapid, yet such progress can be measured by the improvement of her roads, which are now unsurpassed anywhere in the world. Beyond question, internal communications are of vital importance to every nation, and good roads are a prime necessity to every town or city. A good road is always a source of comfort and pleasure to every traveller. It is also a source of great saving each year in the wear and tear of horse-flesh, vehicles, and harnesses. Good roads to market and neighbors increase the price of farm produce, and bring people into business relations and good fellowship, and thereby enhance in value every homestead situated in their neighborhood. They cause a proper distribution of population between town and country. For many years in this country there has been a movement of population from the rural districts into the cities and manufacturing villages. Many ancestral homesteads have been deserted for promising "fresh woods and pastures new" in the commercial world. This centralization of population is evidently a violation of economic laws, and when carried too far results in business depression, in the multiplication of tramps, and in the origination and development of industrial and social troubles. The remedy for this state of affairs is found in the readjustment and proper distribution of population between town and country. When men, sick of waiting on waning business prospects, turn to the soil as their only refuge from non-employment and surplus productions of factories, and reoccupy and rehabilitate deserted or run-down farms, then business revives, and the wheels of industry and enterprise revolve steadily and with increased velocity at each revolution. Bad roads have a tendency to make the country disagreeable as a dwelling-place, and a town which is noted for its bad roads is shunned by people in search of rural homes. On the other hand, good roads have a tendency to make the country a desirable dwelling-place, and a town which is noted for its good roads becomes the abode of people of taste, wealth, and intelligence. Hence it behooves every town to make itself a desirable place of residence; for many people are always puzzling themselves over the problem of where and how to live, and those towns which have their floors swept and garnished and their lamps trimmed and burning ready to receive the bride and bridegroom, will be most likely to attract within their borders the seekers of farm life and rural homes. We now live in the city and go to the country; but we should live in the country and go to the city. This is "a consummation devoutly to be wished;" but it can never be brought about until good roads connect the cities and villages with the green fields and beautiful scenery of the country. All money and labor expended upon them result immediately in a convenience and benefit to the whole community. Every one should deem it an honor to be able to do anything to improve and beautify the highways of his town. The Lacedemonian kings were _ex officio_ highway surveyors, and among the Thebans the most illustrious citizens were proud to hold that office; and a few years ago Horatio Seymour, of New York, said that his only remaining ambition for public life was to be regarded as the best path-master in Oneida County. CHAPTER II. LOCATION. When a new road is laid out it is important that it should be located in the best attainable place, considering the natural formation of the surrounding country; for when a highway is once established it is impossible to say how long the tide of humanity and commercial traffic will seek passage over it. While the ordinary processes of Nature--rain, thaw, and frost--are ever at work lowering the hills and mountains and filling up the valleys and lowlands, the public highways of a country remain in the same relative positions from age to age. The great commercial and military highway which in the early dawn of Roman history led from the banks of the placid Euphrates to the banks of the many-mouthed Nile--over which Abraham once wended his weary steps on his way to Canaan, over which the hosts of Xerxes and the brave phalanxes of Alexander the Great once passed in all the pride and glory of war, over which the wise men of the East probably journeyed in search of him who was born King of the Jews, over which Mary fled with Christ in her flight into Egypt, and along which the early Christians travelled as they went forth to preach the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of men--is to-day the highway over which is carried on the overland intercourse between the Mediterranean and the Persian Gulf. Many of the present roads in Italy and the neighboring countries are identical with the roads over which Cæsar, Cicero, and other Romans travelled in the olden days; and the modern British roads are the same, in many cases, as those used by the ancient Britons before the Anglo-Saxon conquest. The law of the survival of the fittest is applicable to the location of roads, and any well-located road is liable to be used as a public way during the occupancy of the earth by the human race; and if it is not made famous by the passage of illustrious persons or sanctified by the footsteps of saints, yet it is liable to be travelled through coming ages by "mute inglorious Miltons" and by "care-encumbered men." It sometimes happens that men and women, in doing faithfully and well the nearest duty, perform work which turns out better than they expect. "The hand that rounded Peter's dome, And groined the aisles of Christian Rome, Wrought in a sad sincerity; * * * * He builded better than he knew." The originators of many great reforms in law and religion, in working to establish principles applicable and needful to local issues, have thereby, unconsciously to themselves, established principles which have proved beneficial and applicable to the whole human race. In the stress of trying times we have discovered in the constitution of our country latent powers which its framers never dreamed were there. Thus it is with the humble occupation of road-building. A road constructed for the convenience of some primitive community or to gratify the caprice of some rich man or lordly ruler becomes often in after years an Appian Way for public travel and commercial intercourse. A road may be located in one of three ways. It may be laid out in a straight line by crossing lowlands in the mud and going over hills at steep grades. The ancient Britons, like the early settlers in this country, established their homesteads and villages on commanding situations, and ran their roads and bridle-paths in direct courses by their habitations. The Romans, possessors of great wealth and abundant slave-labor, built their military and public roads in direct lines from place to place, regardless of expense. In this way they shortened distances somewhat, but their roads must have been constructed at enormous expense in money and labor. Their roads were marvels of engineering skill and workmanship, which even now, after the lapse of eighteen centuries, impress every thoughtful observer with the idea that he is in the presence of the work of the immortals. They threw arched bridges of solid masonry over rivers and across ravines; they cut tunnels through mountains, and sometimes carried their roads underground for the sole purpose of shelter from the sun; they levelled heights and made deep cuts through hills; and when they came to a marsh they built a causeway high enough and strong enough to make it safe and dry at all seasons of the year. This mode of location is still followed in the Latin countries of Italy, France, and Spain, where many of the roads are identical with the old Roman roads. The other mode of locating a highway is to seek the best attainable grade the country will permit of by winding through valleys and around and across hills. There is obviously one advantage to a perfectly straight road between two places: _it is the nearest route_. But this is about the only advantage a straight road has over a curved one. In a hilly country a straight road is frequently no shorter than a curved one, because the distance around a hill is generally no greater than over it, as the length of a pail-handle is the same whether it is vertical or in a horizontal position. In an uneven country a straight road with anything like the same grade as the curved road can only be constructed at enormous and unnecessary expense and labor. Even in a level country a road curved sufficiently to give variety of view and to conform to Hogarth's "line of beauty" is preferable to a perfectly straight road, which is always tedious to the traveller. "The road the human being travels, That on which blessing comes and goes, doth follow The river's course, the valley's playful windings, Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines." Moreover, we are told by competent engineers that the difference in length between a straight and a slightly curved road is very small. Thus, if a road between two places ten miles apart was made to curve so that the eye could nowhere see farther than a quarter of a mile of it at once, its length would exceed that of a perfectly straight road between the same points by only about one hundred and fifty yards. But, in any event, in road-making mere straightness should always yield to a level grade, even if thereby the distance is greatly increased; for on a good grade a horse can draw rapidly and easily a load which it would be impossible for him to draw on a steep grade. It is an accepted maxim by road-engineers that the horizontal length of a road may be advantageously increased, to avoid an ascent, by at least twenty times the perpendicular height which is to be thus saved; that is, to escape a hill a hundred feet high, it would be proper for the road to make such a circuit as would increase its length to two thousand feet. Hence it is apparent that the ordinary road in a hilly and uneven country should follow the streams as far as possible, as Nature has located them in the places best adapted for highways; and when hills are found on the line of a road they should be surmounted by passing around and across them at the easiest grades possible rather than over them at steep grades. CHAPTER III. CONSTRUCTION. Suitable drainage is the first requisite of a good road, as with our climate and soil it is impossible to have a road in a satisfactory condition at all seasons of the year unless the same is well drained. In building a new road provisions should be made to get rid of all surface water, and in wet land of the water in the soil, by ditches and drains sufficient to dispose of it in a thorough manner; and in repairing an old road it frequently happens that its condition can be greatly improved and sometimes perfected by simply providing proper drainage for it. It is not sufficient to have ditches on each side of the road; for if the water stands in them it is liable to make the road muddy and to weaken its substratum. The ditches themselves should be thoroughly drained, and all the water which accumulates in them should be carried into the natural watercourses of the country, or at any rate beyond the limits of the highway. Every carriage-road ought to be wide enough at nearly all points to allow two vehicles to pass each other in safety. Whether it should be wider than that depends upon its location and its importance as a public thoroughfare. Any unnecessary width should be avoided, except on pleasure and showy boulevards, because thereby land is wasted, and labor and cost in construction and repair are increased. All important highways should be wide enough to admit of footpaths five or six feet wide on each side, and of a macadamized or travelled way commensurate to the public traffic thereon. If a road is to be made wider than two vehicles require, it should be made wide enough to accommodate one or more vehicles; for any intermediate width causes unequal and excessive wear, and therefore is false economy. The road-bed should generally be raised above the level of the surrounding land, in order that it may be as free as possible from water; and it should "crown" sufficiently to allow all the surface water, to find its way quickly into the side ditches. If it is not crowned enough, it soon becomes hollow, and therefore either muddy or dusty, and in times of heavy rains or thaws the water stands or flows in the middle of the road. If it is crowned too much, the drivers of vehicles will seek the middle of the road in order to keep their vehicles in level positions, and consequently the excessive travel in one part of the road soon wears it into ruts in which water accumulates, and carriages in meeting are forced to travel on a side hill, which causes unnecessary wear to the road by sliding down towards the ditches. This sliding tendency greatly augments the labor of the horses and the wear and tear of the carriages. Evidently, then, the wise course to pursue in the matter of crowning the road is to hit the golden mean. Much of success in life depends upon striking the golden mean, for human experience teaches that those who follow in this pathway are apt to find themselves among the happy and the successful. The advice which the wise old Horace made a sage seaman give two thousand years ago is good for road-makers of to-day,-- "Licinius, trust a seaman's lore: Steer not too boldly to the deep; Nor dreading storms by treacherous shore Too closely creep." It ought therefore to be an accepted maxim in road-making that the road-bed should be so constructed as to induce vehicles to travel it equally in every part. For our climate and soil, no doubt, a macadamized road is the cheapest and best for general travel. This is made by covering the bottom of the road-bed with stones broken into angular pieces to a depth of from four to twelve inches. The bottom of the road-bed should be solid earth, and crowned sufficiently to carry off all water that may reach it. The depth of the stone coating may properly vary from four to twelve inches, as required by the nature of the soil, the climate, and the travel on it; and the size of the broken stones may also be varied to meet the requirements of the road. If there is to be heavy travel on the road, the stone coating should be thicker than on a road over which only lightly loaded teams are expected to pass; and in the former case the broken stones should be larger than in the latter case. In any event, the top of the stone coating should be composed of stones broken into small fragments. A coating, from four to six inches in depth, of broken stones from one to two inches in diameter is ordinarily sufficient to make a hard, dry, and beautiful country-road, if kept up at all seasons of the year. Flat or round stones should never be used, because they will not unite and consolidate into a mass, as small angular stones will do. When travel is first admitted upon the stone coating, the ruts should be filled up as soon as formed; or what is better, a heavy roller should be used until the stones have become well consolidated. Sometimes in wet or clayey soil it is well to put at the bottom of the stone coating a layer of large stones, set on their broadest edges and lengthwise across the road in the form of a pavement. This is called a Telford road, and has advantages over the McAdam road in a soil retentive of moisture, as the layer of large stones operates as an under drain to the stone coating above it. It is undoubtedly true that the McAdam or Telford road is the best road for all practical purposes in this country, and will be the country road of the future; yet it is also true that the most of our highways are mere earth-roads, and will probably remain such for many years, and it is therefore desirable that they should be constructed as well as they can be made. It is an admitted canon of the road-making art, that a road ought to be so hard and smooth that wheels will roll easily over it and not sink into it, so dry and compact that rain will not affect it beyond making it dirty, and its component parts so firmly moulded together that the sun cannot convert them into deep dust. Therefore the travelled part of an earth-road should not be composed of loam fertile enough for a corn-field, nor of sand deep enough for a beach. If the road runs through sandy land, it can be greatly and cheaply improved by covering it with a few inches of clayish soil; and if it runs through clayey land, a similar application of sand will be beneficial. A gravelly soil is usually the best material for an earth-road, and when practicable every such road should be covered with a coating of it. The larger gravel, however, should never be placed at the bottom and the smaller at the top, as the frost and the vehicles will cause the large gravel to rise and the small to descend, like the materials in a shaken sieve, and the road will never become smooth and hard. CHAPTER IV. REPAIRS. After a road is located and constructed, economy as well as public convenience demands that it be kept in good condition the year round. If a road is allowed to go for several months at a time without repairs, ruts and holes are likely to form on its surface, and frequently the middle becomes lower than the sides. Then, in order to put it in good condition again, a great deal of work and expense are necessary, whereas if every break is repaired immediately, much less labor and expense are required to keep up the road for the same length of time, besides the increased advantage and convenience of a good road from day to day. No doubt our roads could be kept in better condition than at present without any additional expense, by the application of good sense and business principles in their management. The present system in nearly all our country towns consists in dividing up the roads into districts, and appointing a highway surveyor for each district, with a stated allowance of money to expend on repairs; and sometimes the tax-payer residing in the district has a right to work out his road tax. This surveyor is usually a farmer, who is very busy during planting-time in the spring, and during the haying and harvesting seasons; and consequently he works upon the roads between the planting and the haying seasons, or in the autumn after he has finished the fall work upon his farm. It sometimes happens that he works out all the money allowed him in early summer, and then nothing more is done for a year. If a road is only to be repaired once a year, the work ought to be done in the spring, when the soil is moist and will pack together hard, and not in the summer, when it is dry and turns easily to dust, nor in the late autumn, when the fall rains make it muddy. The surveyor generally makes the repairs by ploughing up the road-bed and smoothing it off a little, or else by ploughing up the dust, turf, and stones alongside the road-bed, and scraping the same upon it. After this is done he goes about his farm work. The stones in the road soon begin to work up to the surface, and remain there like so many footballs for every horse to kick as he passes over them. A horse-path naturally forms in the centre of the road, and wheel-ruts upon either side, which make excellent channels for the water to run in during every rain-storm. At first the water finds its way over the water-bars in small quantities; but the channels increase in depth with every shower, and soon during every hard rain there are from one to three streams of water running over the road-bed from the top to the bottom of nearly every hill, and as a consequence the road is washed all to pieces. The road then generally remains in this condition until the next fall, and sometimes until the next spring. When a road is repaired in this way, it follows as a matter of course that it is in a bad condition all the year round. Just after repairs the road is wretched, for it is then in better condition to be planted than to be travelled over; when trodden down a little, the wash of the rains and the loose stones make it bad again; it then grows worse and worse until another general repair makes it wretched again, and so on _ad infinitum_. The only way to remedy this state of affairs is to change the system. There should be only one highway surveyor for the whole town, with authority to supply such men and teams as may be necessary to keep the roads in a good state of repair. Let them not only work in the early summer and fall, but at all times when there is anything which needs to be done to the roads. A few shovels of dirt and a little labor in the nick of time will do more towards keeping a road in good condition than whole days of ploughing and scraping once or twice a year only. Every good housewife knows that there is a world of truth in the old maxim, "A stitch in time saves nine." The managers of all our well-conducted railroads understand this. They have a gang of men pass often over each section of the roads. What would be said of a mill-owner who should let his milldam wash away once or twice each year, and then rebuild it instead of keeping it in constant repair? The proprietors of the great turnpike road from Sacramento to Virginia City in California, which runs mainly over mountains a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, and has an annual traffic of seven or eight thousand heavy teams, have found by careful experiment that the cheapest way to keep that great road in good condition is to have every portion of it looked after every day, and during dry weather every rod of it is sprinkled with water. This continual-repair system was adopted in Baden, Germany, 1845. It was soon found that it was less expensive and more satisfactory than the old system of annual repairs. Other European countries soon found it to their advantage to follow Baden's example in this respect; and now the new system is in universal use in all the civilized nations of Europe. As a consequence the roads in those countries as a general thing are in splendid condition throughout the year. They are on an even grade, and as smooth as a racing-track in this country. The poorest roads in France, Germany, Switzerland, or Great Britain are as good as the best of our own. They are nearly all macadamized, and are kept in continuous repair by laborers and competent engineers and surveyors, who give their sole labor and attention to the roads as a business throughout the year. But it is not necessary to go to Europe to prove the superiority of the new system over the old. Many towns in this country, especially those situated in the vicinity of the large cities, have adopted the new system, and find by experiment that it is better than the old. An intelligent citizen and town official of Chelmsford, Mass., Mr. Henry S. Perham, thus describes the operation of the old and the new system in that town: "Until 1877 the old highway district system, common in the New England country towns, was in vogue here. Eleven highway surveyors were chosen annually in town-meeting, who had charge of the roads in their respective districts; and although the town appropriated money liberally for highway repairs, the roads seemed to be continually growing worse, owing to the superficial manner in which the repairs were made. In 1877 the town adopted an entirely different plan for doing the work. The plan was to choose one surveyor for the whole town, who was to have charge of all the roads, and the town to purchase suitable teams and implements to be kept at the town farm. This is now the ninth year in which this system has been in practice, and the result of the change has been most satisfactory. The advantages are that the surveyor is chosen for his especial fitness for the work. The men under him are mostly employed by the month and boarded at the town farm, where the teams are also kept. A force now costing the town ten dollars per day will accomplish more and better work in one week than would be ordinarily accomplished by a surveyor under the old system in a season. And the reason is obvious. The men and teams are accustomed to the work; the best implements and machinery are employed, road-scrapers doing the work where the nature of the soil will permit; and what is still more important, the work is directed by the surveyor to the best advantage. In the winter season the teams break out the roads after heavy snows, and in fair weather cart gravel on to the roads as in summer. And although we have an extraordinary length of road to support,--namely, two hundred and seventy-five miles, being more by twenty-five miles than any other town in the State,--there has been a marked and continual improvement in their condition. "When this plan was first presented to the attention of the town, it met with sharp opposition, and passed by only a small majority; but the favor with which it is now regarded may be judged by the fact that since its adoption it has met with almost universal approval, and we should now as soon think of going back to the school-district system or to support the churches by taxation as of returning to the old method of repairing our roads." This method is undoubtedly better than the old district system; but the system of the future will not include a road-scraper except for the building of new roads. Any system is radically defective which scrapes the dust and worn-out soil of the gutters or the turf and loam of the roadside upon the road-bed. Perhaps this kind of repairing is better than none in many localities; but as civilization advances and the true principles of road-making become better known, after the foundation of a road-bed has been properly established, nothing but good road material will ever be put upon it, and this will be put there from time to time as needed to keep up a continual good condition of the road. CHAPTER V. LAWS RELATING TO THE LAYING OUT OF WAYS. New roads are not often required now to reach and develop new tracts of land, except in large towns and cities; but they are frequently needed to shorten distances and to improve grades. Consequently the laws relative to the laying out, maintenance, and use of highways are of personal interest to every citizen, and many are also interested in the laws relating to private ways. The public have a right to lay out ways for purposes of business, amusement, or recreation, as to markets, to public parks or commons, to places of historic interest or beautiful natural scenery.[1] And such ways may be established by prescription, by dedication, or by the acts of the proper public authorities. Twenty years' uninterrupted use by the public will make a prescriptive highway. Many of the old roads in our towns and cities have become public thoroughfares by prescriptive use, which began in colonial days, and perhaps then followed Indian trails, or were first used as bridle-paths. [1] 11 Allen, 530. When the owner in fee of land gives to the public a right of passage and repassage over it, and his gift is accepted by the public, the land thus travelled over becomes a way by dedication. The dedication may be made by the writing, the declaration, or by the acts of the owner. It must, however, clearly appear that he intended and has made the dedication; and when it has been accepted by the public it is irrevocable. Formerly it could be accepted by the public by use, or by some act or circumstance showing the town's assent and acquiescence in such dedication; but now no city or town is chargeable for such dedicated way until it has been laid out and established in the manner provided by the statutes.[2] It was formerly thought that this act applied to prescriptive ways as well as to dedicated ways; but it is now settled that it applies only to ways by dedication, and ways by prescription are not affected by it.[3] [2] Pub. St. c. 49, § 94. [3] 128 Mass. 63. The proper town or city authorities have jurisdiction to lay out or alter ways within the limits of their respective cities or towns, and to order specific repairs thereon. The county commissioners have also jurisdiction to lay out public ways, the termini of which are exclusively within the same town; and they are also clothed with authority to lay them out from town to town. Hence roads may be either town ways or public highways. When the proceedings for their location originate with the town or city officials, they are town ways; and when the proceedings originate with the county commissioners, they are public highways.[4] Suppose a new road is wanted, or an alteration in an old one is desired, within the limits of a town, a petition therefor may be presented either to the town authorities or to the county commissioners. If the proposed road is not situated entirely within the limits of one town or city, then the commissioners alone have jurisdiction in the premises. When the selectmen or road commissioners of a town decide to lay out a new road, or to alter an old one, their doings must be reported and allowed at some public meeting of the inhabitants regularly warned and notified therefor; but while the inhabitants are vested with the right of approval, they have no right to vote that the selectmen or road commissioners shall lay out a particular way, as it is the intention of the statute that these officials shall exercise their own discretion upon the subject.[5] If the town authorities unreasonably refuse or neglect to lay out a way, or if the town unreasonably refuses or delays to approve and allow such way as laid out or altered by its officials, then the parties aggrieved thereby may, at any time within one year, apply to the county commissioners, who have authority to cause such way to be laid out or altered. But when a petition for a public way is presented in the first instance to the county commissioners, or when the matter is brought before them by way of appeal, their decision on the question of the public necessity and convenience of such way is final, and from it there is no appeal. If damage is sustained by any person in his property by the laying out, alteration, or discontinuance of a public way, he is entitled to receive just and adequate damages therefor, to be assessed, in the first place, by the town or city authorities or by the county commissioners, and, finally, by a jury, in case one is demanded by him. He is entitled to a reasonable time to take off any timber, wood or trees, which may be upon the land to be taken; but if he does not remove the same within the time allowed, he is deemed to have relinquished his right thereto. In estimating the damage to the land-owner caused by the laying out or the alteration of a public way over his land, neither the city nor town authorities nor a jury are confined to the value of the land taken. He is also entitled to the amount of the damage done to his remaining land by such laying out or alteration.[6] But in such estimation of damages any direct or peculiar benefit or increase of value accruing to his adjoining land is to be allowed as a betterment, by way of set-off; but not any general benefit or increase of value received by him in common with other land in the neighborhood.[7] [4] 7 Cush. 394. [5] 5 Pick. 492. [6] 14 Gray, 214. [7] 4 Cush. 291. The cost of making and altering ways, including damages caused thereby, is to be paid by the city or town wherein the same are located, provided the proceedings originate with the town or city authorities; but when the proceedings originate with the county commissioners, they divide the cost between the towns and the county in such manner as they think to be just and reasonable.[8] [8] 6 Met. 329. CHAPTER VI. LAW AS TO REPAIRS. After highways, town-ways, streets, causeways, and bridges have been established, they are to be kept in such repair as to be reasonably safe and convenient for travellers at all seasons of the year at the expense of the town or city in which they are situated. It is the duty of each town to grant and vote such sums of money as are necessary for repairing the public ways within its borders; and if it fails to do so, the highway surveyors, in their respective districts, may employ persons, as directed in the statutes, to repair the roads, and the persons so employed may collect pay for their labor of the town. In order to make such repairs, city and town authorities may select and lay out land within their respective limits as gravel and clay pits from which may be taken earth and gravel necessary for the construction and repairs of streets and ways.[9] And they may turn the surface drainage of the roads upon the land of the adjoining owners without liability.[10] But no highway surveyor has a right, without the written approbation of the selectmen, to cause a watercourse, occasioned by the wash of the road, to be so conveyed by the roadside as to incommode a house, a store, shop, or other building, or to obstruct a person in the prosecution of his business.[11] Properly authorized city or town officers may trim or lop off trees and bushes standing in the public ways, or cut down and remove such trees; and may cause to be dug up and removed whatever obstructs such ways, or endangers, hinders, or incommodes persons travelling therein.[12] Even the boundaries of public ways are so well guarded that when they are ascertainable no length of time less than forty years justifies the continuance of a fence or building within their limits; but the same may, upon the presentment of a grand jury, be removed as a nuisance.[13] [9] Pub. St. c. 49, § 99. [10] 13 Gray, 601. [11] Pub. St. c. 52, § 12. [12] St. 1885, c. 123. [13] Pub. St. c. 54. It is so important that the public ways be kept free for travel, that any person may take down and remove gates, rails, bars, or fences upon or across highways, unless the same have been there placed for the purpose of preventing the spreading of a disease dangerous to the public health, or have been erected or continued by the license of the selectmen or county commissioners.[14] A highway surveyor acting within the scope of his authority may dig up and remove the soil within the limits of the public ways for the purpose of repairing the same, and may carry it from one part of the town to another;[15] and he has a right to deposit the soil thus removed on his own land, if that is the best way of clearing the road of useless material.[16] [14] Pub. St. c. 54. [15] 125 Mass. 216. [16] 128 Mass. 546. Though the law is imperative that the roads must be kept in good condition, and to this end gives municipal corporations great powers, yet let no one who is not a highway surveyor or in his employ imagine that he can repair a road not on his own land with impunity; for it has been decided that if an unauthorized person digs up the soil on the roadside by another person's land for the purpose of repairing the road, he is a trespasser and liable for damages, although he does only what a highway surveyor might properly do.[17] It is also the duty of cities and towns to guard with sufficient and suitable railings every road which passes over a bank, bridge, or along a precipice, excavation, or deep water; and it makes no difference whether these dangerous places are within or without the limits of the road, if they are so imminent to the line of public travel as to expose travellers to unusual hazard.[18] But towns are not obliged to put up railings merely to prevent travellers from straying out of the highway, where there is no unsafe place immediately contiguous to the way.[19] [17] 8 Allen, 473. [18] 13 Allen, 429. [19] 122 Mass. 389. The roads are for the use of travellers, and a city or town is not bound to keep up railings strong enough for idlers to lounge against or children to play upon.[20] [20] 3 Allen, 374; 8 Allen, 237. The travelled parts of all roads ought to be wide enough to allow of the ordinary shyings and frights of horses with safety, for shying is one of the natural habits of the animal;[21] although it seems that switching his tail over the reins is not a natural habit of the animal, as it has been decided that if a horse throws his tail over the reins and thereby a defect in the road is run against, no damages can be recovered.[22] [21] 100 Mass. 49. [22] 98 Mass. 578. CHAPTER VII. GUIDE-POSTS, DRINKING-TROUGHS, AND FOUNTAINS. The statutes undertake to provide for the erection and maintenance of guide-posts at suitable places on the public ways; but a person has to travel but little in many of the towns of the State to come to the conclusion that the law is either deficient in construction or a dead letter in execution. The law makes it incumbent upon the selectmen or road commissioners of each town to submit to the inhabitants, at every annual meeting, a report of all the places in which guide-posts are erected and maintained within the town, and of all places at which, in their opinion, they ought to be erected and maintained. For each neglect or refusal to make such report they shall severally forfeit ten dollars. After the report is made the town shall determine the several places at which guide-posts shall be erected and maintained, which shall be recorded in the town records. A town which neglects or refuses to determine such places, and to cause a record thereof to be made, shall forfeit five dollars for every month during which it neglects or refuses to do so. At each of the places determined by the town there shall be erected, unless the town at the annual meeting agrees upon some suitable substitute therefor, a substantial post of not less than eight feet in height, near the upper end of which shall be placed a board or boards, with plain inscription thereon, directing travellers to the next town or towns and informing them of the distance thereto. Every town which neglects or refuses to erect and maintain such guide-posts, or some suitable substitutes therefor, shall forfeit annually five dollars for every guide-post which it neglects or refuses to maintain.[23] These forfeitures can be recovered either by indictment or by an action of tort for the benefit of the county wherein the acts of negligence or refusal occur; and any interested or public-spirited person can make complaint of such negligence or refusal to the superior court, or to any trial justice, police, district or municipal court, having jurisdiction of the matter.[24] [23] Pub. St. c. 53, §§ 1-5. [24] Pub. St. c. 217; 108 Mass. 140. The selectmen may establish and maintain such drinking-troughs, wells, and fountains within the public highways, squares, and commons of their respective towns, as in their judgment the public necessity and convenience may require, and the towns may vote money to defray the expenses thereof.[25] But the vote of a town instructing the selectmen to establish a watering-trough at a particular place would be irregular and void, because towns in their corporate capacity have not been given the right by statute to construct drinking-troughs in the public highways. And towns would not be liable for the acts of the selectmen performed in pursuance of this statute, because the law makes the selectmen a board of public officers, representing the general public, and not the agents of their respective towns. However, if the inhabitants of a town should construct a drinking trough or fountain of such hideous shape, and paint it with such brilliant color, that it would frighten an ordinarily gentle and well-broken horse, by reason of which a traveller should be brought in contact with a defect in the way or on the side of the way, and thus injured, the town might be held liable to pay damages.[26] [25] Pub. St. c. 27, § 50. [26] 125 Mass. 526. It is my purpose to state what the law is, and not what it ought to be; but I will venture the suggestion that it would not be an unreasonable hardship on towns to require them to establish and maintain suitable watering-troughs at suitable places, and it would be a merciful kindness to many horses which now frequently have to travel long distances over dusty roads in summer heat without a chance to get a swallow of water from a public drinking-trough. CHAPTER VIII. SHADE TREES, PARKS, AND COMMONS. The law of the Commonwealth not only requires the public ways to be kept safe and convenient, but of late years statutes have been passed allowing owners of land, improvement societies, cities and towns, to do something to beautify the roadsides and public squares of any city or town. A city or town may grant or vote a sum not exceeding fifty cents for each of its ratable polls in the preceding year, to be expended in planting, or encouraging the planting by the owners of adjoining real estate, of shade trees upon the public squares or highways.[27] Such trees may be planted wherever it will not interfere with the public travel or with private rights, and they shall be deemed and taken to be the private property of the person so planting them or upon whose premises they stand.[28] [27] St. 1885, c. 123. [28] Pub. St. c. 54, § 6. Improvement societies, properly organized for the purpose of improving and ornamenting the streets and public squares of any city or town by planting and cultivating ornamental trees therein, may be authorized by any town to use, take care of, and control the public grounds or open spaces in any of its public ways, not needed for public travel. They may grade, drain, curb, set out shade or ornamental trees, lay out flower plots, and otherwise improve the same; and may protect their work by suitable fences or railings, subject to such directions as may be given by the selectmen or road commissioners. And any person who wantonly, maliciously, or mischievously drives cattle, horses, or other animals, or drives teams, carriages, or other vehicles, on or across such grounds or open spaces, or removes or destroys any fence or railing on the same, or plays ball or other games thereon, or otherwise interferes with or damages the work of such corporation, is subject to a fine not exceeding twenty dollars for each offence, for the benefit of the society.[29] [29] St. 1885, c. 157. It is also a legal offence for any one wantonly to injure or deface a shade tree, shrub, rose, or other plant or fixture of ornament or utility in a street, road, square, court, park, or public garden, or carelessly to suffer a horse or other beast driven by or for him, or a beast belonging to him and lawfully on the highway, to break down or injure a tree, not his own, standing for use or ornament on said highway.[30] And no one, even if he be the owner of the land, has the right to cut down or remove an ornamental or shade tree standing in a public way, without first giving notice of his intention to the municipal authorities, who are entitled to ten days to decide whether the tree can be removed or not. And whoever cuts down or removes or injures such tree in violation of the law shall forfeit not less than five nor more than one hundred dollars for the benefit of the city or town wherein the same stands.[31] [30] Pub. St. c. 54, §§ 7, 8. [31] Pub. St. c. 54, §§ 10, 11. CHAPTER IX. PUBLIC USE OF HIGHWAYS. After the roads are ready for use and beautified by shade trees and green parks at convenient places, we are confronted with the question, How are they to be used by the public and the owners of adjoining estates? We, as a people, are not only continental and terrestrial travellers, but we are continually passing hither and thither over the public ways of this State, and consequently it is important for us to know how to travel the common roads in a legal and proper manner. In the first place, every one who travels upon a public thoroughfare is bound to drive with due care and discretion, and to have an ordinarily gentle and well trained horse, with harness and vehicle in good roadworthy condition, as he is liable for whatever damages may be occasioned by any insufficiency in this respect.[32] [32] 4 Gray, 178. Another duty which every traveller is bound to observe is to drive at a moderate rate of speed. To drive a carriage or other vehicle on a public way at such a rate or in such a manner as to endanger the safety of other travellers, or the inhabitants along the road, is an indictable offence at common law, and amounts to a breach of the peace; and in case any one is injured or damaged thereby, he may look to the fast driver for his recompense. But it does not follow that a man may not drive a well-bred and high-spirited horse at a rapid gait, if he does not thereby violate any ordinance or by-law of a town or city; for it has been held that it cannot be said, as matter of law, that a man is negligent who drives a high-spirited and lively-stepping horse at the rate of ten miles an hour in a dark night.[33] [33] 8 Allen, 522. It then behooves every one to drive with care and caution, whether he is going fast or slow; and it also behooves him to see that his servants drive with equal care and caution, for he is responsible to third persons for the negligence of his servants, in the scope of their employment, to the same extent as if the act were his own, although the servants disobey his express orders. If you send your servant upon the road with a team, with instructions to drive carefully and to avoid coming in contact with any carriage, but instead of driving carefully he drives carelessly against a carriage, you are liable for all damages resulting from the collision; and if the servant acts wantonly or mischievously, causing thereby additional bodily or mental injury, such wantonness or mischief will enhance the damage against you.[34] [34] 3 Cush. 300; 114 Mass. 518. You may think this a hard law; but it is not so hard as it would be if it allowed you to hire ignorant, wilful, and incompetent servants to go upon the road and injure the lives and property of innocent people without redress save against the servants, who perchance might be financially irresponsible. It should however be stated in this connection that if your team should get away from you or your servant, without any fault on your or his part, and should run away and do great damage, by colliding with other teams, or by running over people on foot, you would not be held responsible, as in law it would be regarded as an inevitable accident. Thus, if your horse should get scared by some sudden noise or frightful object by the wayside, or through his natural viciousness of which you were ignorant, or by some means should get unhitched after you had left him securely tied, and in consequence thereof should plunge the shaft of your wagon into some other man's horse, or should knock down and injure a dozen people, you would not be liable, because the injury resulted from circumstances over which you had no control.[35] [35] 1 Addison on Torts, 466. CHAPTER X. "THE LAW OF THE ROAD." There are certain rules applicable to travellers upon public ways, which are so important that everybody ought to know and observe them. The law relative thereto is known as "the law of the road." These rules relate to the meeting, passing, and conduct of teams on the road; and it is more important that there should be some well established and understood rules on the subject than what the rules are. In England the rules are somewhat different, and some of them are the reverse of what they are in this country. But the rules and the law relating thereto in this country are about the same in every State of the Union. Our statutes provide that when persons meet each other on a bridge or road, travelling with carriages or other vehicles, each person shall seasonably drive his carriage or other vehicle to the right of the middle of the travelled part of such bridge or road, so that their respective carriages or other vehicles may pass each other without interference; that one party passing another going in the same direction must do so on the left-hand side of the middle of the road, and if there is room enough, the foremost driver must not wilfully obstruct the road.[36] [36] Pub. St. c. 93. Although these are statutory rules, yet they are not inflexible in every instance, as on proper occasions they may be waived or reversed. They are intended for the use of an intelligent and civilized people; and in the crowded streets of villages and cities, situations or circumstances may frequently arise when a deviation will not only be justifiable but absolutely necessary. One may always pass on the left side of a road, or across it, for the purpose of stopping on that side, if he can do so without interrupting or obstructing a person lawfully passing on the other side.[37] And if the driver of a carriage on the proper side of the road sees a horse coming furiously on the wrong side of the road, it is his duty to give way and go upon the wrong side of the road, if by so doing he can avoid an accident.[38] But in deviating from the "law of the road," one must be able to show that it was the proper and reasonable thing to do under the circumstances, or else he will be answerable for all damages; for the law presumes that a party who is violating an established rule of travelling is a wrongdoer.[39] Of course a person on the right side of the road has no right to run purposely or recklessly into a trespasser, simply because he has wrongfully given him the opportunity to receive an injury, and then turn round and sue for damages arising from his own foolhardiness and devil-may-care conduct.[40] [37] Angell on Highways, § 336. [38] Shear. & Red. on Negligence, § 309. [39] 121 Mass. 216. [40] 12 Met. 415. Every one seeking redress at law on account of an accident must be able to show that he himself was at the time in the exercise of ordinary care and precaution, and it is not enough for him to show that somebody else was violating a rule of law. When the road is unoccupied a traveller is at liberty to take whichever side of the road best suits his convenience, as he is only required "seasonably to drive to the right" when he meets another traveller; but if parties meet _on the sudden_, and an injury results, the party on the wrong side of the road is responsible, unless it clearly appears that the party on the proper side has ample means and opportunity to prevent it.[41] [41] 10 Cush. 495; 3 Carr. & Payne, 554; Angell on Carriers, § 555. Where there is occasion for one driver to pass another going in the same direction, the foremost driver may keep the even tenor of his way in the middle or on either side of the road, provided there is sufficient room for the rear driver to pass by; but if there is not sufficient room, it is the duty of the foremost driver to afford it, by yielding an equal share of the road, if that be practicable; but if not, then the object must be deferred till the parties arrive at ground more favorable to its accomplishment. If the leading traveller then wilfully refuses to comply, he makes himself liable, criminally, to the penalty imposed by the statute, and answerable at law in case the rear traveller suffers damage in consequence of the delay. There being no statute regulations as to the manner in which persons should drive when they meet at the junction of two streets, the rule of the common law applies, and each person is bound to use due and reasonable care, adapted to the circumstances and place.[42] [42] 12 Allen, 84. By the "travelled part" of the road is intended that part which is usually wrought for travelling, and not any track which may happen to be made in the road by the passing of vehicles; but when the wrought part of the road is hidden by the snow, and a path is beaten and travelled on the side of the wrought part, persons meeting on such beaten and travelled path are required to drive their vehicles to the right of the middle of such path.[43] Many drivers of heavily loaded vehicles seem to think that all lightly loaded ones should turn out and give them all the travelled part of the road. No doubt a lightly loaded vehicle can often turn out with less inconvenience than a heavily loaded one, and generally every thoughtful and considerate driver of a light vehicle is willing to, and does, give the heavy vehicle more than half the road on every proper occasion; but the driver of the heavy vehicle ought to understand that it is done out of courtesy to himself and consideration for his horses, and not because it is required by any rule of law. The statute law of the road in this State makes no distinction between the lightly and the heavily loaded vehicle. Both alike are required to pass to the right of the travelled part of the road. In case of accident the court would undoubtedly take into consideration the size and load of each vehicle, as bearing upon the question of the conduct of the drivers under the circumstances, and their responsibility would be settled in accordance with "the law of the road," modified and possibly reversed by the situation of the parties and the circumstances surrounding them at the time.[44] [43] 4 Pick. 125; 8 Met. 213. [44] 111 Mass. 360. A traveller in a common carriage may use the track of a street railway when the same is not in use by the company; but the company is entitled to the unrestricted use of their rails upon all proper occasions, and then such traveller must keep off their track, or else he renders himself liable to indictment under the statutes of the State.[45] [45] Pub. St. c. 113, § 37; 7 Allen, 573. CHAPTER XI. EQUESTRIANS AND PEDESTRIANS. In England "the law of the road" applies as well to equestrians as to travellers by carriage, and I can see no good reason why it should not do so here. The statutes are silent on the subject, and I cannot find that our Supreme Court has ever had occasion to pass upon the question; but it has been decided in some of the States that when a traveller on horseback meets another equestrian or a carriage, he may exercise his own notions of prudence, and turn either to the right or to the left at his option.[46] By common consent and immemorial usage an equestrian is expected to yield the road, or a good share of it, to a wagon or other vehicle. It has been decided in Pennsylvania that if he has a chance to turn out and refuses to do so, and his steed or himself is injured by a collision, he is remediless.[47] [46] 24 Wend. 465. [47] 23 Penn. St. 196. It is clear that the statute law of the road in this State is not applicable to people on horseback, as it is expressly limited to carriages or other vehicles, and therefore equestrians are amenable only to the common law of the land. By this law they are required to ride on the public ways with due care and precaution, and to exercise reasonably good judgment on every occasion, under all the attendant circumstances. When they meet wagons, whether heavily loaded or not, they ought to yield as much of the road as they can conveniently,--certainly more than half, as they do not need that much of the road to pass conveniently,--but when they meet a vehicle in the form of a bicycle there seems to be no good reason why they should yield more than half the road. For the convenience of themselves and the public at large, on meeting vehicles or each other, they ought to pass to the right, as by adopting the statute law of the road in this respect order is promoted and confusion avoided. A public thoroughfare is a way for foot-passengers as well as carriages, and a person has a right to walk on the carriage-way if he pleases; but, as Chief Justice Denman once remarked, "he had better not, especially at night, when carriages are passing along."[48] However, all persons have an undoubted right to walk on the beaten track of a road, if it has no sidewalk, even if infirm with age or disease, and are entitled to the exercise of reasonable care on the part of persons driving vehicles along it. If there is a sidewalk which is in bad condition, or obstructed by merchandise or otherwise, then the foot-passenger has a right to walk on the road if he pleases. But it should be borne in mind that what is proper on a country road might not be in the crowded streets of a city. In law every one is bound to regulate his conduct to meet the situations in which he is placed, and the circumstances around him at the time. A person infirm with age or disease or afflicted with poor eyesight should always take extraordinary precaution in walking upon the road.[49] Thus, a man who traverses a crowded thoroughfare with edged tools or bars of iron must take especial care that he does not cut or bruise others with the things he carries. Such a person would be bound to keep a better lookout than the man who merely carried an umbrella; and the man who carried an umbrella would be bound to take more care when walking with it than a person who had nothing.[50] [48] 5 Carr. & Payne, 407. [49] 1 Allen, 180. [50] 1 Addison on Torts, § 480. Footmen have a right to cross a highway on every proper occasion, but when convenient they should pass upon cross-walks, and in so doing should look out for teams; for it is as much their duty, on crossing a road, to look out for teams, as it is the duty of the drivers of teams to be vigilant in not running over them. "The law of the road" as to the meeting of vehicles does not apply to them. They may walk upon whichever side they please, and turn, upon meeting teams, either to the right or to the left, at their option, but it is their duty to yield the road to such an extent as is necessary and reasonable; and if they walk in the beaten track or cross it when teams are passing along, they must use extraordinary care and caution or they will be remediless in case of injury to themselves. They may travel on the Lord's day for all purposes of necessity or charity; and they may also take short walks in the public highway on Sundays, simply for exercise and to take the air, and even to call to see friends on such walks, without liability to punishment therefor under the statutes for the observance of the Lord's day, and they can recover damages for injuries wrongfully sustained while so walking.[51] [51] 14 Allen, 475; Barker v. Worcester, 139 Mass. 74. CHAPTER XII. OMNIBUSES, STAGES, AND HORSE-CARS. Nearly every one has occasion, more or less often, to travel over the public ways in the coaches of passenger carriers. Whoever undertakes to carry passengers and their baggage for hire from place to place is bound to use the utmost care and diligence in providing safe and suitable coaches, harnesses, horses, and coachmen, in order to prevent such injuries as human care and foresight can guard against. If an accident happens from a defect in the coach or harness which might have been discovered and remedied upon careful and thorough examination, such accident must be ascribed to negligence, for which the owner is liable in case of injury to a passenger happening by reason of such accident. On the other hand, where the accident arises from a hidden and internal defect, which careful and thorough examination would not disclose, and which could not be guarded against by the exercise of sound judgment and the most vigilant oversight, then the proprietor is not liable for the injury, but the misfortune must be borne by the sufferer as one of that class of injuries for which the law can afford no redress in the form of a pecuniary recompense. If a passenger, in peril arising from an accident for which the proprietors are responsible, is in so dangerous a situation as to render his leaping from the coach an act of reasonable precaution, and he leaps therefrom and breaks a limb, the proprietors are answerable to him in damages, though he might safely have retained his seat.[52] [52] 9 Met. 1. When the proprietors of stages or street-car coaches, which are already full and overloaded, stop their coaches, whether at the signal or not of would-be passengers, and open the doors for their entrance, they must be considered as inviting them to ride, and thereby assuring them that their passage will be a safe one, at least so far as dependent upon the exercise of reasonable and ordinary care, diligence, and skill, on their part, in driving and managing their horses and coaches; and, in fact, they are rather to be held responsible for such increased watchfulness and solicitous care, skill, and attention, as the crowded condition of the vehicle requires. If, under such circumstances, a passenger is thrown out of or off the coach by its violent jerk at starting or stopping, or in any other way through the negligence of the proprietors or their agents, he may hold them liable for his injuries.[53] A passenger must pay his fare in advance, if demanded, otherwise he may have to pay a fine for evading fare; and if he is riding free, the proprietors are not responsible, except for gross negligence; and he must also properly and securely pack his baggage, if he expects to recover damages in case of loss. A mail-coach is protected by act of Congress from obstructions, but is subject in all other respects to "the law of the road."[54] [53] 103 Mass. 391. [54] 1 Watts, Pa. 360. If the proprietors of coaches used for the common carriage of persons are guilty of gross carelessness or neglect in the conduct and management of the same while in such use, they are liable to a fine not exceeding five thousand dollars, or to imprisonment not exceeding three years.[55] And if a driver of a stage-coach or other vehicle for the conveyance of passengers for hire, when a passenger is within or upon such coach or vehicle, leaves the horses thereof without some suitable person to take the charge and guidance of them, or without fastening them in a safe and prudent manner, he may be imprisoned two months or fined fifty dollars.[56] [55] Pub. St. c. 202, § 34. [56] Pub. St. c. 202, § 35. CHAPTER XIII. PURPOSES FOR WHICH HIGHWAYS MAY BE USED. As before intimated, the public ways are mainly for the use of travellers; but in the progress of civilization it has become convenient and necessary to use them for other purposes of a public nature. It is the great merit of the common law, that while its fundamental principles remain fixed from generation to generation, yet they are generally so comprehensive and so well adapted to new institutions and conditions of society, new modes of commerce, new usages and practices, that they are capable of application to every phase of society and business life. Time and necessity, as well as locality, are important elements in determining the character of any particular use of a public way. Many public ways are now used for gas, water-pipes, and sewers, because the public health and convenience are subserved by such use.[57] They are also used for the transmission of intelligence by electricity, and the post-boy and the mail-coach are disappearing. [57] 35 N.H. 257. The horse-railroad was deemed a new invention; but it was held that a portion of the road might well be set aside for it, although the rights of other travellers to some extent were limited by the privileges necessary for its use.[58] [58] 136 Mass. 75. And now motor cars and elevated railroads are making their appearance in the centres of civilized life, and the bicycle and tricycle are familiar objects on all the great thoroughfares. Should human ingenuity discover any new modes of conveying persons and property over the public ways, or of transmitting intelligence along the same, which should prove convenient to the everyday life of humanity, no doubt the highway law will be found applicable to all the needs of advancing civilization. The underlying principle of the law is that every person may use the highway to his own best advantage, but with a just regard to the like rights of others. The law does not specify what kind of animals or vehicles are to be allowed upon the road, but leaves every case to be decided as it shall arise, in view of the customs and necessities of the people from time to time. All persons may lawfully travel upon the public ways with any animal or vehicle which is suitable for a way prepared and intended to afford the usual and reasonable accommodations needful to the requirements of a people in their present state of civilization; but if any person undertakes to use or travel upon the highway in an unusual or extraordinary manner, or with animals, vehicles, or freight not suitable or adapted to a way opened and prepared for the public use, in the common intercourse of society, and in the transaction of usual and ordinary business, he then takes every possible risk of loss and damage upon himself.[59] [59] 14 Gray, 242. If a party leads a bull or other animal through a public way without properly guarding and restraining the same, and for want of such care and restraint people rightfully on the way and using due care are injured, the owner of the animal is responsible, because under such circumstances he is bound to use the utmost care and diligence, especially in villages and cities, to avoid injuries to people on the road.[60] So, if a man goes upon the highway with a vehicle of such peculiar and unusual construction, or which is operated in such a manner, as to frighten horses and to create noise and confusion on the road, he is guilty of an indictable offence and answerable in damages besides. An ycleped velocipede in the road has been held in Canada to be a nuisance, and its owner was indicted and found guilty of a criminal offence.[61] In England a man who had taken a traction steam-engine upon the road was held liable to a party who had suffered damages by reason of his horses being frightened by it.[62] It has been held to be a nuisance at common law to carry an unreasonable weight on a highway with an unusual number of horses.[63] And so it is a nuisance for a large number of persons to assemble on or near a highway for the purpose of shouting and making a noise and disturbance; and likewise it is a nuisance for one to make a large collection of tubs in the road, or to blockade the way by a large number of logs, cattle, or wagons; for, as Lord Ellenborough once said, the king's highway is not to be used as a stable or lumber yard. [60] 106 Mass. 281; 126 Mass. 506. [61] 30 Q.B. Ont. 41. [62] 2 F. & F. 229. [63] 3 Salk. 183. Towns and cities have authority to make such by-laws regulating the use and management of the public ways within their respective limits, not repugnant to law, as they shall judge to be most conducive to their welfare.[64] They may make such by-laws to secure, among other things, the removal of snow and ice from sidewalks by the owners of adjoining estates; to prevent the pasturing of cattle or other animals in the highways; to regulate the driving of sheep, swine, and neat cattle over the public ways; to regulate the transportation of the offal of slaughtered cattle, sheep, hogs, and other animals along the roads; to prohibit fast driving or riding on the highways; to regulate travel over bridges; to regulate the passage of carriages or other vehicles, and sleds used for coasting, over the public ways; to regulate and control itinerant musicians who frequent the streets and public places; and to regulate the moving of buildings in the highways. Many people are inclined to make the highway the receptacle for the surplus stones and rubbish around their premises, and to use the wayside for a lumber and wood yard; and some farmers are in the habit of supplying their hog-pens and barn cellars with loam and soil dug out of the highway. [64] Pub. St. c. 27, § 15, and c. 53; 97 Mass. 221. Again, some highway surveyors have very little taste for rural beauty, and show very poor judgment, and perhaps now and then a little spite, in ploughing up the green grass by the roadside and sometimes in front of houses. These evils can be remedied by every town which will pass suitable by-laws upon the subject and see that they are enforced. Such by-laws might provide that no one should be allowed to deposit within the limits of the highway any stones, brush, wood, rubbish, or other substance inconvenient to public travel; that no one should be permitted to dig up and carry away any loam or soil within the limits of the highway; and that no highway surveyor should be allowed to dig or plough up the greensward in front of any dwelling-house, or other building used in connection therewith, without the written direction or consent of the selectmen. CHAPTER XIV. USE OF HIGHWAYS BY ADJOINING OWNERS. The owner of land adjoining a highway ordinarily owns to the middle of the road; and while he has the same rights as the public therein, he also has, in addition thereto, certain other rights incident to the ownership of the land over which the road passes. When land is taken for a highway, it is taken for all the present and prospective purposes for which a public thoroughfare may properly be used, and the damages to the owner of the land are estimated with reference to such use; but the land can be used for no other purpose, and when the servitude ceases the land reverts to him free from encumbrance. During the continuance of the servitude he is entitled to use the land, subject to the easement, for any and all purposes not incompatible with the public enjoyment. If the legislature authorizes the addition of any new servitude, essentially distinct from the ordinary use of a highway, like an elevated railroad, then the land-owner is entitled to additional compensation; for it cannot be deemed, in law, to have been within the contemplation of the parties, at the time of the laying out of the road, that it might be used for such new and additional purposes. It has been held in New York, Illinois, and some of the United States circuit courts, that the use of a highway for a telegraph line will entitle such owner to additional compensation; but in the recent case of Pierce _v._ Drew[65] the majority of our Supreme Court decided that the erection of a telegraph line is not a new servitude for which the land-owner is entitled to additional compensation. [65] 136 Mass. 75. A minority of the court, in an able argument, maintained that the erection of telegraph and telephone posts and wires along the roads, fitted with cross-beams adapted for layer after layer of almost countless wires, which necessitate to some extent the destruction of trees along the highways or streets, the occupation of the ground, the filling of the air, the interference with access to or escape from buildings, the increased difficulty of putting out fires, the obstruction of the view, the presentation of unsightly objects to the eye, and the creation of unpleasant noises in the wind, is an actual injury to abutting land along the line, and constitutes a new and increased servitude, for which the land-owner is entitled to a distinct compensation. After the rendering of the majority decision, the legislature very promptly passed a law allowing an owner of land abutting upon a highway along which telegraph or telephone, electric light or electric power, lines shall be constructed, to recover damages to the full extent of the injuries to his property, provided he applies, within three months after such construction, to the mayor and aldermen or selectmen to assess and appraise his damage.[66] [66] St. 1884, c. 306. The public has a right to occupy the highway for travel and other legitimate purposes, and to use the soil, the growing timber, and other materials found within the space of the road, in a reasonable manner, for the purpose of making and repairing the road and the bridges thereon.[67] But the public cannot go upon the land of an adjoining owner without his consent, to remove stones or earth, to repair a bridge or the highway; and if in consequence of such removal the land is injured, by floods or otherwise, he can recover damages therefor.[68] He is not obliged to build or maintain a road fence, except to keep his own animals at home, but if he does build a fence he must set it entirely on his own land; and likewise, if a town constructs an embankment to support a road or bridge, it must keep entirely within the limits of the highway, for if any part of the embankment is built on his land he can collect damages of the town.[69] He may carry water-pipes underground through the highway, or turn a watercourse across the same below the surface, provided he does not deprive the public of their rights in the way.[70] From the time of Edward IV. it has been the settled law that the owner of the soil in the highway is entitled to all the profits of the freehold, the grass and trees upon it and the mines under it. He can lawfully claim all the products of the soil and all the fruit and nuts upon the trees. He may maintain trespass for any injury to the soil or to the growing trees thereon, which is not incidental to the ordinary and legitimate uses of the road by the public. His land in the highway may be recovered in ejectment just the same as any of his other land. No one has any more right to graze his highway land than his tillage land.[71] He may cut the hay on the roadside, gather the fruit and crops thereon, and graze his own animals there; and the by-laws of the cities and towns preventing the pasturing of cattle and other animals in the highway are not to affect his right to the use of land within the limits of the road adjoining his own premises.[72] [67] 15 Johns, 447. [68] 107 Mass. 414. [69] 4 Gray, 215; 136 Mass. 10. [70] 6 Mass. 454. [71] 16 Mass. 33; 8 Allen, 473. [72] Pub. St. c. 53, § 10. It is not one of the legitimate uses of the highway for a traveller or a loafer to stop in front of your house to abuse you with blackguardism, or to play a tune or sing a song which is objectionable to you; and if you request him to pass on and he refuses to go, you may treat him as a trespasser and make him pay damages and costs, if he is financially responsible.[73] And likewise, if any person does anything on the highway in front of your premises to disturb the peace, to draw a crowd together, or to obstruct the way, he is answerable in damages to you and liable to an indictment by the grand jury.[74] [73] 38 Me. 195. [74] 24 Pick. 187. Although the owner of the fee in a highway has many rights in the way not common to the public, yet he must exercise those rights with due regard to the public safety and convenience. Perhaps, in the absence of objections on the part of the highway surveyor, or of prohibitory by-laws on the part of the town, he has a right to take soil or other material from the roadside for his own private use, but he certainly has no right to injure the road by his excavations, or to endanger the lives of travellers by leaving unsafe pits in the wayside. He can load and unload his vehicles in the highway, in connection with his business on the adjoining land, but it must be done in such a manner as not unreasonably to interfere with or incommode the travelling public. When a man finds it necessary to crowd his teams and wagons into the street, and thereby blockade the highway for hours at a time, he ought either to enlarge his premises or remove his business to some more convenient spot. He has a right to occupy the roadside with his vehicles, loaded or unloaded, to a reasonable extent; but when he fills up the road with logs and wood, tubs and barrels, wagons and sleighs, pig-pens and agricultural machinery, or deposits therein stones and rubbish, he is not using the highway properly, but is abusing it shamefully, and is responsible in damages to any one who is injured in person or property through his negligence, and, moreover, is liable to indictment for illegally obstructing the roadway.[75] As before said, he has a perfect right to pasture the roadside with his animals; but if he turns them loose in the road, and they there injure the person or property of any one legally travelling therein, he is answerable in damages to the full extent of the injuries, whether he knows they have any vicious habits or not.[76] If his cow, bull, or horse, thus loose in the highway, gore or kick the horse of some traveller, he is liable for all damages;[77] and in one instance a peaceable and well-behaved hog in the road cost her owner a large sum of money, because the horse of a traveller, being frightened at her looks, ran away, smashed his carriage, and threw him out.[78] [75] 1 Cush. 443; 13 Met. 115; 107 Mass. 264; 14 Gray, 75; Pub. St. c. 112, § 17. [76] 4 Allen, 444. [77] 10 Cox, 102. [78] 25 Me. 538. As an offset to his advantages as adjoining owner there are a few disadvantages. Highways are set apart, among other things, that cattle and sheep may be driven thereon; and as, from the nature of such animals, it is impossible even with care to keep them upon the highways unless the adjoining land is properly fenced, it follows that when they are driven along the road with due care, and then escape upon adjoining land and do damage their owner is not liable therefor, if he makes reasonable efforts to remove them as speedily as possible.[79] Likewise, if a traveller bent upon some errand of mercy or business finds the highway impassable by reason of some wash-out, snowdrift, or other defect, he may go round upon adjoining land, without liability, so far as necessary to bring him to the road again, beyond the defect.[80] If a watercourse on adjoining land is allowed by the land-owner to become so obstructed by ice and snow, or other cause, that the water is set back, and overflows or obstructs the road, the highway surveyor may, without liability, enter upon adjoining land and remove the nuisance, if he acts with due regard to the safety and protection of the land from needless injury.[81] [79] 114 Mass. 466. [80] 7 Cush. 408. [81] 134 Mass. 522. A town or city has a right, in repairing a highway, to so raise the grade or so construct the water-bars within its limits, as to cause surface water to flow in large quantities upon adjoining land, to the injury of the owner thereof; but, on the other hand, the land-owner has a right to cause, if he can, the surface water on his land to flow off upon the highway, and he may lawfully do anything he can, on his own land, to prevent surface water from coming thereon from the highway, and may even stop up the mouth of a culvert built by a town across the way for the purpose of conducting such surface water upon his land, providing he can do it without exceeding the limits of his own land.[82] [82] 13 Allen, 211, 291; 136 Mass. 119. When the owner of land is constructing or repairing a building adjoining the highway, it is his duty to provide sufficient safeguards to warn and protect passing travellers against any danger arising therefrom; and if he neglects to do so, and a traveller is injured by a falling brick, stick of timber, or otherwise, he is responsible.[83] [83] 123 Mass. 26. If the adjoining owner of a building suffers snow and ice to accumulate on the roof, and allows it to remain there for an unusual and unreasonable time, he is liable, if it slides off and injures a passing traveller.[84] And, generally, the adjoining owner is bound to use ordinary care in maintaining his own premises in such a condition that persons lawfully using the highway may do so with safety. [84] 101 Mass. 251; 106 Mass. 194. The general doctrine as to the use of property is here, as elsewhere, _Sic utere tuo ut alienum non lædas_,--"So use your own property as not to injure the rights of another." If you make an excavation on your land so near to a highway that travellers are liable accidentally to fall therein, you had better surround it with a fence or other safeguard sufficient to protect reasonably the safety of travellers. If you have any passage-ways, vaults, coal-holes, flap-doors, or traps of any kind on your premises, which are dangerous for children or unwary adults, you had better abolish them, or at any rate take reasonable precaution to cover or guard them in such manner as ordinary prudence dictates, and especially if they are near the highway; for if you do not you may, some time when not convenient for you, be called upon to pay a large claim for damages or to defend yourself against an indictment. But if you have so covered and guarded them, and by the act of a trespasser, or in some other way without fault on your part, the cover, fence, or guard is removed, you are not liable until you have had actual or constructive notice of the fact, and have had reasonable opportunity to put it right.[85] [85] 4 Carr. & Payne, 262, 337; 51 N.Y. 229; 19 Conn. 507. CHAPTER XV. PRIVATE WAYS. A private way is the right of passage over another man's land. It may be established and discontinued in the same manner as a public way, and it may also arise from necessity. A way of necessity is where a person sells land to another which is wholly surrounded by his own land, or which cannot be reached from the public highways or from the land of the purchaser. In such case the purchaser is unable to reach his land at all unless he can go over some of the surrounding estates; and inasmuch as he cannot go over the premises of those who are strangers to him, in law, and inasmuch as public policy and simple justice call for a passage-way to his land, for his use in the care and cultivation of it, the law gives him a way of necessity over his grantor's land, which runs with his land, as appurtenant thereto, so long as the necessity exists, even if nothing is said in the deed about a right of way, because it is presumed that when the grantor sells the land he intends to convey with it a right of way, without which it could not be used and enjoyed; but when the necessity ceases, the right ceases also.[86] In the absence of contract, it belongs to the owner of a private way to keep it in repair,[87] and for this purpose he may enter upon the way and do whatever is necessary to make it safe and convenient; but if in so doing he removes soil and stones which are not needed on the way, such surplus material belongs to the owner of the land over which the way passes.[88] If a defined and designated way becomes impassable for want of repair or by natural causes, the owner of the way has not the right of a traveller on a public road to go outside the limits of the way in order to pass from one point to another.[89] But if the owner of the land obstructs the way, a person entitled to use it may, without liability, enter upon and go over adjoining land of the same owner, provided he does no unnecessary damage.[90] The reason for this distinction in the law between a public and a private way is that in the case of a private way the owner of the way, who alone has the right to its use, is bound to keep it in repair, whereas in the case of a public way the traveller is under no obligation to keep it in passable condition. A private way once established cannot be re-located except with the consent of both the owner of the land and of the way; but if both are agreed, the old way may be discontinued and re-located in another place.[91] The owner of the soil of a private way may, the same as the owner of the fee in a highway, make any and all uses thereof to which the land can be applied.[92] In the absence of agreement to the contrary, he may lawfully and without liability cover such way with a building or other structure, if he leaves a space so wide, high, and light that the way is substantially as convenient as before for the purpose for which it was established.[93] And so, in the absence of agreement, he may maintain such fences across the way as are necessary to enable him to use his land for agricultural purposes, but he must provide suitable bars or gates for the use and convenience of the owner of the way. He is not required to leave it as an open way, nor to provide swing gates, if a reasonably convenient mode of passage is furnished; and if the owner of the way or his agents leave the bars or gates open, and in consequence thereof damage is done by animals, he is liable to respond in damages.[94] "The law of the road" applies as well to private as to public ways, as the object of the law is to prescribe a rule of conduct for the convenience and safety of those who may have occasion to travel, and actually do travel, with carriages on a place adapted to and fitted and actually used for that purpose.[95] The description of a way as a "bridle-road" does not confine the right of way to a particular class of animals or special mode of use, but it may be used for any of the ordinary purposes of a private road.[96] [86] 14 Mass. 49; 2 Met. 457; 14 Gray, 126. [87] 12 Mass. 65. [88] 10 Gray, 65. [89] Wash, on Ease. *196. [90] 2 Allen, 543. [91] 5 Gray, 409; 14 Gray, 473. [92] Wash, on Ease. *196. [93] 2 Met. 457. [94] 31 N. Y 366; 44 N.H. 539; 4 M. & W. 245. [95] 23 Pick. 201. [96] 16 Gray, 175. CHAPTER XVI. DON'T. In school, church, and society many things are taught by the prohibitory don't; and thus many rules of law relating to public and private ways may be taught and illustrated in the same way. For instance:-- Don't ever drink intoxicating liquor as a beverage, at least in large quantities. If you ever have occasion to use it at all, use it very sparingly, especially if you are travelling or are about to travel with a team; for if you should collide with another team, or meet with an accident on account of a defect in the way, in a state of intoxication, your boozy condition would be some evidence that you were negligent. The law, however, is merciful and just, and if you could satisfy the court or jury that notwithstanding your unmanly condition you were using due care, and that the calamity happened through no fault of yours, you would still be entitled to a decision in your favor; but when you consider how apt a sober human mind is to think that an intoxicated mind is incapable of clear thought and intelligent action, I think you will agree with the decisions of the courts, which mean, when expressed in plain language, "You had better not be drunk when you get into trouble on the highway."[97] [97] 3 Allen, 402; 115 Mass. 239. Don't ever approach a railway crossing without looking out for the engine while the bell rings, and listening to see if the train is coming; for there is good sense as well as good law in the suggestion of Chief Baron Pollock, that a railway track _per se_ is a warning of danger to those about to go upon it, and cautions them to see if a train is coming. And our court has decided that when one approaches a railway crossing he is bound to keep his eyes open, and to look up and down the rails before going upon them, without waiting for the engineer to ring the bell or to blow the whistle.[98] It is a duty dictated by common sense and prudence, for one approaching a railway crossing to do so carefully and cautiously both for his own sake and the sake of those travelling by rail. If one blindly and wilfully goes upon a railway track when danger is imminent and obvious, and sustains damage, he must bear the consequences of his own rashness and folly. [98] 12 Met. 415. Don't drive horses or other animals affected by contagious diseases on the public way, or allow them to drink at public watering-places, or keep them at home, for that matter. The common law allows a man to keep on his own premises horses afflicted with glanders, or sheep afflicted with foot-rot, or other domestic animals afflicted with any kind of diseases, provided he guards them with diligence and does not permit them to escape on to his neighbor's land or the public way. But under the statute law of this State, a man having knowledge of the existence of a contagious disease among any species of domestic animals is liable to a fine of five hundred dollars, or imprisonment for one year, if he does not forthwith inform the public authorities of such disease.[99] Aside from the penalty of the statute law, it is clearly an indictable offence for any one to take domestic animals affected with contagious diseases, knowing or having reason to know them to be so affected, upon the public ways, where they are likely to give such diseases to sound animals; and he would be answerable in damages, besides.[100] [99] St. 1885, c. 148. [100] 2 Rob. N.Y. 326; 16 Conn. 200. If you are afflicted with a contagious or infectious disease, don't expose yourself on a highway or in a public place; and don't expose another person afflicted with such disease, as thereby you may jeopardize the health of other people, and your property also, in case you should be sued by some one suffering on account of your negligence.[101] [101] 4 M. & S. 73; Wood on Nuisances, 70. When there is snow on the ground, and the movement of your sleigh is comparatively noiseless, don't drive on a public way without having at least three bells attached to some part of your harness, as that is the statute as well as the common law. By the statute law you would be liable to pay a fine of fifty dollars for each offence. And by the statute and common law, in case of a collision with another team, you would probably be held guilty of culpable negligence and made to pay heavy damages. Of course you would be allowed to show that the absence of bells on your team did not cause the accident or justify the negligence of the driver of the other team, but it would be a circumstance which would tell against you at every stage of the case.[102] [102] 12 Met. 415; 11 Gray, 392; 8 Allen, 436. If you have no acquaintance with the nature and habits of horses, and no experience in driving or riding them, don't try to ride or drive any of them on a public way at first, but confine your exercise in horsemanship to your own land until you have acquired ordinary skill in their management; for the law requires every driver or rider on a highway to be reasonably proficient in the care and management of any animal he assumes to conduct through a public thoroughfare.[103] [103] 2 Lev. 173. Don't ride with a careless driver, if you can help it, because every traveller in a conveyance is so far identified with the one who drives or directs it, that if any injury is sustained by him by collision with another vehicle or railway train through the negligence or contributory negligence of the driver, he cannot recover damages for his injuries. The passenger, in law, is considered as being in the same position as the driver of the conveyance, and is a partaker with him in his negligence, if not in his sins.[104] [104] Addison on Torts, § 479. If you have a vicious and runaway horse, and you know it, you had better sell him, or keep him at work on the farm. Don't, at any rate, use him on the road yourself, or let him to other people to use thereon; for if in your hands he should commit injuries to person or property, you would have to foot the bills; and if he should injure the person to whom you had let him, unless you had previously informed him of the character and habits of the horse, you would be liable to pay all the damages caused by the viciousness of the horse. If you should meet with an accident by reason of a defect in the highway, you could not recover anything, however severely you might be injured or damaged, provided the vicious habits of the horse contributed to the accident.[105] [105] 4 Gray, 478; 117 Mass. 204. In riding or driving keep hold of the reins, and don't let your horses get beyond your control; for if you do your chances of victory in a lawsuit will be pretty slim. If you tie up your reins for the purpose of walking in order to get warm or to lighten the load, and let your horses go uncontrolled, and they run over a child in the road and kill it or seriously injure it, you will probably have to pay more than the value of the horses, unless they are very good ones. Or if, going thus uncontrolled, they fail to use due care and good judgment in meeting other teams, and in consequence thereof damages occur, you would be expected to make everything satisfactory, because your team is required to observe "the law of the road" whether you are with it or not, especially if you turn it loose in the highway. Even if you have hold of the reins, and your horses get beyond your control by reason of fright or other cause, and afterwards you meet with an accident by reason of a defect in the highway, you cannot recover anything.[106] [106] 101 Mass. 93; 106 Mass. 278; 40 Barb. 193. Don't encroach upon or abuse the highway, either by crowding fences or buildings upon its limits or by using it as a storage yard. If you set a building on the line of the road, and then put the doorsteps, the eaves, and the bow-windows of the building over the line, you are liable to an indictment for maintaining a public nuisance; and possibly you may be ordered by the court to remove them forthwith at your own expense.[107] If you build an expensive bank-wall for a road fence, and place any part of it over the line, you must remove it upon the request of the public authorities, or else take your chances on an indictment for maintaining an illegal obstruction in the highway. If you deposit on the roadside logs, lumber, shingles, stones, or anything else which constitutes an obstruction to travel or a defect in the way, or which is calculated to frighten horses of ordinary gentleness, and allow the same to remain for an unreasonable length of time, you are liable to respond in damages for all injuries resulting therefrom. Even if the town should have to settle for the damages in the first instance, you might still be called upon to reimburse the town.[108] [107] 107 Mass. 234. [108] Wood on Nuisances, §§ 326, 327; 102 Mass. 341; 18 Me. 286; 41 Vt. 435. Don't ride on the outside platform of a passenger coach; for if you cling upon a crowded stage-coach or street car, and voluntarily take a position in which your hold is necessarily precarious and uncertain, you have no right to complain of any accident that is the direct result of the danger to which you have seen fit to expose yourself. However, if the coach is stopped for you to get on and fare is taken for your ride, the fact that you are on the platform is not conclusive evidence against you; but the court will allow the jury to determine, upon all the evidence and under all the circumstances, whether you were in the exercise of due care, instructing them that the burden of proof is upon you to show that the injury resulted solely by the negligence of the proprietors of the coach.[109] [109] 103 Mass. 391; 8 Allen, 234; 115 Mass. 239. Don't jump off a passenger coach when it is in motion; for if you get off without doing or saying anything, or if you ring the bell and then get off before the coach is stopped, without any notice to those in charge of it, and without their knowing, or being negligent in not knowing, what you are doing, the coach proprietors are not liable for any injury you may receive through a fall occasioned by the sudden starting of the coach during your attempt to get off.[110] [110] 106 Mass. 463. Don't wilfully break down, injure, remove, or destroy a milestone, mile-board, or guide-post erected upon a public way, or wilfully deface or alter the inscription on any such stone or board, or extinguish a lamp, or break, destroy, or remove a lamp, lamp-post, railing, or posts erected on a street or other public place; for if you do you are liable to six months' imprisonment or a fine of fifty dollars.[111] [111] Pub. St. c. 203, § 76. If in travelling you find the road impassable, or closed for repairs, and you find it convenient to turn aside and enter upon adjoining land in order to go on your way, don't be careless or imprudent; for if you take down more fences and do more damage than necessary, you may have to answer in damages to the owner of the land; and if you meet with an accident while thus out of the road, you cannot look to the town for any remuneration therefor, because when you go out of the limits of the way voluntarily, you go at your peril and on your own responsibility.[112] [112] 8 Met. 391; 7 Cush. 408; 7 Barb. 309. Don't make the mistake of supposing that everything that frightens your horse or causes an accident in the highway is a defect for which the town is liable. If a town negligently suffers snowdrifts to remain in the road for a long time, and thereby you are prevented from passing over the road to attend to your business, or, in making an attempt to pass, your horses get into the snow and you are put to great trouble, expense, and loss of time in extricating them, you are remediless unless you receive some physical injury in your person or property; as the remedy provided by the statutes, in case of defects in the highway, does not extend to expenses or loss of time unless they are incident to such physical injury. In other words, the statute gives no one a claim for damages sustained in consequence of inability to use a road.[113] And so a town or city is not obliged to light the highways, and an omission to do so is not a defect in the way for which it is liable.[114] [113] 13 Met. 297; 6 Cush. 141. [114] 136 Mass. 419. Nor is the mere narrowness and crookedness of a road a defect within the meaning of the statutes. Towns and cities are only required to keep highways in suitable repair as they are located by the public authorities, and they have no right to go outside the limits defined by the location in order to make the road more safe and convenient for travel. If a highway is so narrow or crooked as to be unsafe, the proper remedy is by an application to the county commissioners to widen or straighten it.[115] Nor is smooth and slippery ice, in country road or city street, a defect for which a town or city is liable, if the road whereon the ice accumulates is reasonably level and well constructed. In our climate the formation of thin but slippery ice over the whole surface of the ground is frequently only the work of a few hours; and to require towns and cities to remove this immediately or at all is supposing that the legislature intended to cast upon them a duty impossible to perform, and a burden beyond their ability to carry.[116] [115] 105 Mass. 473. [116] 12 Allen, 566; 102 Mass. 329; 104 Mass. 78. If you meet with an accident on the highway by reason of a defect therein, don't fail to give notice in writing within thirty days, to the county, town, place, or persons by law obliged to keep said highway in repair, stating the time, place, and cause of the injury or damage.[117] This notice is a condition precedent to the right to maintain an action for such injury or damage, and cannot be waived by the city or town.[118] Nothing will excuse such notice except the physical or mental incapacity of the person injured, in which case he may give the notice within ten days after such incapacity is removed, and in case of his death it may be given by his executors or administrators.[119] Formerly it was essential that the time, place, and cause of the injury should be set forth in the notice with considerable particularity, but now the notice is not invalid by reason of any inaccuracy in stating the time, place, and cause, if the error is not intentional and the party entitled to notice is not misled.[120] [117] Pub. St. c. 52, §§ 19-21. [118] 128 Mass. 387. [119] Pub. St. c. 52, § 21. [120] St. 1882, c. 36. Don't convey by warranty deed a piece of land over which there is a public or a private way, without conveying subject to such way; for if you do you may be called upon to make up the difference in value in the land with the incumbrance upon it and with it off, which is regarded as a just compensation for the injury resulting from such an incumbrance.[121] [121] 2 Mass. 97; 15 Pick. 66; 2 Allen, 428. Finally, don't keep a dog that is in the habit of running into the road and barking at passing teams. You had better get rid of him or break him of the habit. Under our statutes the owner or keeper of a dog is responsible to any person injured by him, either in person or property, double the amount of damage sustained; and after he has received notice of the bad disposition of his dog, he is liable to have the damage increased threefold. Every dog that has the habit of barking at people on the highway is liable any day to subject his owner or keeper to large liabilities; for if he frightens a horse by leaping or barking at him in mere play, and the horse runs away, or tips over the vehicle to which he is hitched, his owner or keeper is responsible for double the damages thus caused by his dog. Hence I repeat the injunction, Get rid of such a dog or break him of the habit; and if this cannot be done, then break his neck. Perhaps it might be well to say, in this connection, that any traveller on the road, either riding or walking peaceably, who is suddenly assaulted by a dog, whether licensed or not, may legally kill him, and thus relieve his owner or keeper of a disagreeable duty.[122] [122] 11 Gray, 29; 1 Allen, 191; 3 Allen, 191. CHAPTER XVII. FOOT-PATHS. Air, sunlight, and exercise are absolutely essential for the proper physical and intellectual development of human beings. Thoreau thought it necessary for people who wished to preserve their health and spirits to spend four hours a day in the open air, sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, free from all worldly engagements. No doubt he spoke from his own personal standpoint, and many persons do not require so much exercise in the open air as he did in order to preserve their health and spirits; but the proper observance of the laws of health certainly requires every one to spend a portion of every pleasant day in the open air, and on foot if possible. Since the morning stars first sang together, the whole creation has been groaning and travailing in preparing the earth for the habitation of man; and the influence and teachings of Nature have ever aided powerfully in perfecting man and upbuilding the ruling nations of the world. The progenitors of every vigorous race have always found in forest and wilderness the tonics and sources of their strength. It took forty years of wandering in the wilderness to prepare the Israelites for the occupation of the promised land. In the open and out-door life of the Athenians was developed a civilization noble in high aspirations for the ideal in beauty and life, rich in literary and oratorical achievements, and glorious in the great and profound thoughts of immortal teachers and philosophers. The august and all-conquering civilization of the Romans had its origin on Palatine Hill when herdsmen and wolves roamed over it. In Holland, where the people are ever in conflict with the elements of Nature, the land has been reclaimed by human effort from "the multitudinous waves of the sea." The streams that once spread over the land or hid themselves in quicksands and thickets are made to flow in channels and form a network of watery highways for commerce and the fertilization of the soil; and where formerly lagoons and morasses found a home, there are now pleasant homesteads, great cities, and beautiful villages. The Anglo-Saxon race, which is now and has been for centuries the most vigorous and progressive in the world, has always had an insatiable hunger for the earth, and a love for a life in the fields by stream or by roadside. Everywhere we find the highest type of civilization where man has gained the mastery of Nature by the work of his hands. The home of such a civilization is usually found where forests have been removed, and the wild vegetation of primitive times has been expelled to make room for the thousand and one productions of modern cultivation; where hillsides and mountain-cliffs have been festooned with vines and made to blossom like the rose; where watercourses have been made highways for trade and utilized for purposes of manufacture; and where gloomy morasses and damp lowlands have been dried up and made fertile and habitable by drainage and cultivation. As close contact with Nature is necessary for the making of nations, so her teachings are essential for the largest expansion of the human mind. All the great teachers of the race have found in Nature the germs of the thoughts which have widened the bounds of human knowledge "with the process of the suns." "Speak to the earth, and it will teach thee," was the basis of Job's philosophy. When David wanted light and assistance, he lifted up his eyes unto the hills, from whence came his help. Plato taught in the consecrated groves of the Academy, and Aristotle in the pleasant fields of Nymphäeum or in the shady walks of the Lyceum. Christ taught his disciples to heed the teachings of Nature, and he sought strength and inspiration in the wilderness and the mountains. Wordsworth's library was in his house, but his study was out of doors. But why enumerate, when the entire intellectual history of our race demonstrates that every invention or thought which has extended man's mental vision and knowledge has been evolved from the discovery of some hitherto hidden law of the material world, or from the teachings of Nature, which always foreshadow the fundamental principles regnant in the seen and the unseen world? Hence anything which tends to bring people into the open air and into a closer communion with Nature is worthy of encouragement. Good foot-paths would furnish an easy and convenient way of getting at Nature; and being free from the dust and heat of the highway, and somewhat retired and secluded, they would be, during a considerable portion of the year, musical with the song of birds and beautiful with green foliage and lovely flowers. These paths would invite and encourage people to take long walks, and this habit would undoubtedly conduce to their longevity and robust health. And the promotion of health is now regarded, in every enlightened community, as one of the objects of government. The enjoyment of life depends in great measure upon the state of our health. When the air feels bracing, and food and drink taste sweet to us, much else in life tastes sweet which would otherwise taste sour and disagreeable. Good drainage and vaccination are not the only means available for the promotion of the public health. People should be encouraged and educated into the habit of taking plenty of exercise in the open air, as in this way the public health will be improved. One of the charms of old England is to be found in her numerous foot-paths and green lanes, which are recognized by law, for many of them are older than the highways. When a walker tires of the public road or is in a hurry, if he knows the country, he can turn into some foot-path and reach the place of his destination by short cuts through green lanes, across pleasant meadows, and along shady hedgerows. As one passes along these cosey byways, he sees, from every eminence or turn, a new prospect over the landscape interspersed with trees, now and then the bright gleam of water through the foliage, and occasionally some beautiful vista view across parks and homesteads. In this way one can go from town to town, and get about the country quite independently of the highways. Most of the country churches are approachable by lanes and foot-paths which seem to run by all the houses in the vicinage, and by their sweet attractiveness to invite all the people to go to church, at least in pleasant summer weather. In Massachusetts and some of the other States, towns and cities have authority to lay out foot-paths in the same manner as public ways. It is to be hoped ere-long that the intelligent and public-spirited citizens of our towns and cities will cause now and then a good foot-walk to be constructed, where it would shorten the distance from one place to another, and possibly pass through pleasant fields and woods, and over hills commanding beautiful and extensive views. It is not pleasant to walk in the dust and publicity of highways, nor on gravel walks in artificial parks, where sign-boards and policemen warn you frequently to "keep off the grass." Before our towns and cities spend any more money building boulevards and opening new parks, would it not be well for them to consider the advisability of laying out some foot-paths for the comfort and convenience of pedestrians? At any rate, foot-paths could be made alongside of the road-bed of some of the public ways, so that every pedestrian would not of necessity have to trudge along in the dust or mud incident to the middle of the road. CHAPTER XVIII. WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE ROADSIDE. Besides the legal duty every dweller by a highway is under, to use it with due regard to the rights of the public, he is under a moral and Christian obligation to maintain order and neatness within and without his roadside. The occupations and amenities of life are so interwoven and intermixed that no one can live for himself alone with justice to himself or to society. There is something in the very nature of things which makes for the reward of unselfish exertion and for the condemnation of selfish acts. "Whosoever shall seek to save his life, shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life, shall preserve it." Public spirit, like virtue, is its own exceeding great reward. When one benefits the community in which he lives, he thereby also benefits himself; and when he is possessed of the right kind of a public spirit, he will beautify and improve his homestead and his roadside, and will even throw the cobble-stones out of the roadway in front of his house without compensation or even hope of financial reward. When he plants a tree for the sole purpose of doing something for posterity, and then watches its growth and expansion from day to day until he becomes familiar with its varied aspects in sunny and in stormy weather, and finally, walking beneath its cooling shade and seeing its limbs swaying gracefully over surrounding objects, his heart goes out towards it with a feeling of tenderness and love, and he feels that he has been paid a thousand times for setting it out. When after years of endeavor in trying to keep his roadside neat and clean and covered with greensward, he finds that his example is having some influence on his neighbors, and that even the road-menders begin to respect his efforts to improve the wayside, he feels that he has been amply compensated for all his trouble and care in his own increased enjoyment and in the increased enjoyment he has been the means of giving to the public. First impressions always have great influence upon our minds. Nothing will give a traveller a poorer and meaner opinion of a town and its inhabitants than dilapidated buildings surrounded by rubbish and broken-down fences. When a traveller passes a house of this character, he instinctively says to himself, "Some shiftless and poverty-stricken family lives here;" but when he passes a well-kept house with pleasant surroundings, he says, "This must be the abode of intelligent and well-to-do people." He feels like stopping and forming their acquaintance, for he is sure that their acquaintance would be worth having. Our opinion of a person's character is always more or less influenced by the clothes he wears and by the house in which he lives. The surroundings of every home of intelligence and tidiness should indicate that it is not the abode of the vulgar and ignorant. Therefore every owner of a homestead should strive to make it a cosey and pleasant home for himself and family. He should take a just pride in keeping his buildings in good repair, well painted and suitably arranged for the purposes of his business and a happy and healthy home life. The surroundings should be made neat and attractive, by the absence of rubbish, and the presence of green grass and shade trees. If he owns much land, he ought to be landscape gardener enough to set out his fruit and shade trees and to lay out his fields in the best way for convenience and scenic effect. He should also have sufficient rural taste not to locate his barn and other out-buildings in such a way as to shut off the best views from his house. He ought also to have a general knowledge of the nature and uses of trees and forests, and the necessity of their cultivation for the good of himself and mankind at large. Forest and shade trees greatly enhance the beauties of a country, and no country can be beautiful in the highest degree without them. If the green hills and mountains of New England were stripped of their woods, the lovers of natural scenery and rural life would seek elsewhere the gratification of their tastes. Even the stately homes of England would appear commonplace in the absence of the majestic trees and forests which now encircle them. A plain, modest house, situated in the midst of an open grass-plat and sheltered by a few handsome shade trees, is more beautiful and appeals more strongly to the feelings than the stateliest mansion unprotected from the sun. Who would care to live by the side of the purest stream or body of water, if it were not fringed with trees? Were it not for trees, would there be any beauty in mountain, hill, or valley,--for who can conceive of a beautiful landscape scene devoid of trees? The love of trees seems to be implanted in all noble natures. The ancients believed that "the groves were the first temples of the gods." Christopher North says that the man who loves not trees would make no bones of murdering. Some people give as an excuse for not planting trees that it takes so long for them to grow that they will not live to enjoy them. The selfishness of this excuse is enough to condemn it; but it is not tenable from any point of view. It has been said that he who makes two blades of grass grow where only one grew before is a benefactor of his race; and of all the pursuits connected with the interests of mankind what can be the source of more true and disinterested happiness than the knowledge that one has been instrumental in changing a waste and unproductive piece of land into a scene of umbrageous and waving beauty? Cicero speaks of tree-planting as the most delightful occupation of advanced life; and Sir Robert Walpole once said that among the various actions of his busy life none had given him so much satisfaction in the performance and so much unsullied pleasure in the retrospect as the planting with his own hands many of those magnificent trees that now form the pride of Houghton. Of course it is not claimed that every one should have expensive buildings upon his homestead, or wide-spreading lawns around his house. Many are so situated that they cannot afford to live in costly houses or to spend much money on their surroundings; but every one can make his home, however humble, pleasant and homelike, and can keep his dooryard and wayside free from old rubbish. I can understand how love can be happy in a cottage, but I do not believe it possible for a family to grow in knowledge and virtue and enjoy life while dwelling in mean and dirty apartments. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and it is just as true of the outside of the house as of the inside. A pleasant and beautiful exterior usually signifies pleasantness and peace within. While well-fenced and well-tilled farms are always pleasing to the eyesight, and neatly dressed roadsides are generally desirable, it does not follow that no shrubbery or sylvan tangles of trees should be allowed to grow on farms or by the wayside. A bare and rocky hill or knoll suggests images of bleak and barren desolation, cold blasts, and parching sun; while a hill clothed and capped with woods gives the impression of a rich and charming country. Therefore the land unsuitable for pasturage or cultivation on a farm had better be covered with clusters of trees or with forests; and frequently an old stone-wall or heaps of stones can be advantageously hidden by vines and shrubbery, as they add beauty to the landscape, furnish shelter to birds, and often protect the crops from cold winds. Many a wayside in country by-roads is so rough and uneven, so rocky and full of earth-pits, that it had better be covered with the wild shrubbery of Nature than to be cleared up in such a way as to expose to view all its unsightly objects. Whenever the roadside cannot be covered by greensward, the native shrubs and wild vines ought to be allowed to hide its nakedness with green foliage and beautiful flowers. They give beauty to wayside scenery, and increase the interest and pleasure of those travelling along the road. CHAPTER XIX. ENJOYMENT OF THE ROAD. In travelling, whether one is riding or walking, it is not sufficient for the proper enjoyment of the way to know how to get along in a legal manner, but he should know how to put himself in harmony with the elements of Nature, and to feel the "gay, fresh sentiment of the road." The first requisite for this enjoyment is to have a hopeful and sunshiny disposition. When people are buoyed up by hope they will find enjoyment under very adverse circumstances. Adam and Eve, according to Milton, saw without terror for the first time the sun descend beneath the horizon, and the darkness close in upon the earth, and "the firmament glow with living sapphires," although they did not then know of a sunrise to come. Yet even in such a time as that, according to this poet, these hopeful natures walked hand in hand "in the grateful evening mild," and held such sweet converse with each other that they forgot all time, all seasons and their change, for all pleased alike. Thus it was in the beginning, and thus it will be at the end; for even in the darkest as in the brightest hours hopeful humanity looks forward to something better, as-- "Of better and brighter days to come Man is talking and dreaming ever." And who would have it otherwise? As sunshine is the most important thing in the natural world, so it is the best thing in human life. People with sunshiny dispositions are always happy and welcome everywhere, whether on the road, in the sick-room, or in the halls of gayety. They drive away the blues and bring in hope and good cheer; without them, life would not be worth living. The French philosopher Figuier was so impressed with the value of sunshine in human nature that he taught that the rays of the sun, which bring light and heat and life and all blessings to the earth, are nothing but the loving emanations of the just spirits who have reached the sun, the final abode of all immortal souls; and its light and heat are the result of their effulgent goodness and sunshiny dispositions. Every traveller, then, who wishes to experience even the common and apparent enjoyments of the way, should start out with a light heart and rich in hope; but if he wishes to taste also the _latent_ enjoyments of the way, he must have an observing eye, and the love of Nature in his heart. It is astonishing how the systematic cultivation of the observing faculties will develop in one the habit of seeing and enjoying his environment. This habit grows as rapidly as heavenly wisdom in one who has made an honest attempt to obtain a knowledge of God, when-- "Each faculty tasked to perceive Him Has gained an abyss where a dewdrop was asked." What a source of pleasure, solace, and recreation, then, is open to him who knows how to distinguish and appreciate the beautiful in Nature! He hears in every breeze and every ripple of water a voice which the uncultivated ear cannot hear; and he sees in every fleeting cloud and varied aspect of Nature some beauty which the ignorant cannot see. "Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees takes off his shoes." There is truth in the quaint language of Platen: "The more things thou learnest to know and to enjoy, the more complete and full will be for thee the delight of living." We frequently find that when two persons are placed in the same situation, one will find much to enjoy while the other will not, and simply because one has the love of Nature in his heart, and the other has not. One person, living in the midst of the most beautiful natural scenery, is not charmed by anything he sees on the earth or in the sky. To him all Nature is like an empty barnyard, in which there is nothing to inspire him with a noble thought or stir him with a generous emotion. Another person living in the same vicinity sees much in his surroundings to admire and to enjoy. He looks at the sunset glows with delight; he sees beauty in the grass, and glory in the flowers; he sees with admiration and awe the storm-clouds, black and terrible, rushing together like veritable war-horses, or piling themselves up like mountains, reverberating with the artillery of heaven and tongued with fire; wherever he looks nearly every prospect pleases; and to him Nature, like the Scriptures, is new every morning and new every night. Such a person is more likely to be a better neighbor, a better citizen, and a better Christian than one who has not the love of Nature in his heart. Ruskin says: "The love of Nature is an invariable sign of goodness of heart and justice of moral perception; that in proportion to the degree in which it is felt, will probably be the degree in which all nobleness and beauty of character will also be felt; that when it is absent from any mind, that mind in many other respects is hard, worldly, and degraded." The love of Nature has ever been characteristic of the greatest and the noblest minds. To Wordsworth the meanest flower that blows gave him thoughts too deep for tears; and to Christ the lily of the field was more beautifully arrayed than Solomon in all his glory. Likewise we often find that two travellers will pass together over the same route, and one will see much to admire and to enjoy by the way, and the other will see nothing to admire or to enjoy. The one who has an observing eye, and enjoys beautiful and grand natural scenery, sees in every nook and corner by the way some lovely flower or comely shrub to admire, and, like Wordsworth,-- "Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze, He sees the golden daffodils." And he not only enjoys the present sight, but he enjoys the scene as often as he thinks of it afterwards, as in imagination he views the scene over and over again,-- "For oft when on his couch he lies In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon the inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then his heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils." And in the common and unnoticed grass by the roadside or in the field, he can see in each blade a system of masonry and architecture that no human skill has ever been able to equal. The stem is very slender, but is so elastic and strong that it waves gracefully in the breeze and bends to the earth in the storm without breaking, and assumes an upright attitude again. It is made up of delicate cells and perfect and intricate channels, through which hidden currents of life throb and flow as mysteriously as the vital blood through the human frame. It is colored with an emerald tint of such beautiful hues that it has been the despair of artists to imitate it in every age. Ages and ages before the human hand learned its cunning, the command went forth for grass to bring forth seed after its kind; and to-day it is waving gracefully in every field, and crowned with the same beautiful flowers and tasselled seed-vessels as of old. Men in their haughty ambition have builded much larger structures. They have erected towers, pyramids, obelisks, spires, monuments, and triumphal arches, which have commanded the admiration of their builders and of their fellow-men in every part of the world; but every principle of their masonry and architecture is an imitation of that in the humblest spear of grass. Thus every traveller on a country road is surrounded by monuments more ancient, more impressive, and more beautiful than the ancient or modern world can show as the production of human hands. He finds much enjoyment in the study of the forms and characteristics of the different trees by the wayside. If the road passes over highland, on a breezy day he can look down upon or across the tops of undulating forest trees, whose swaying movements remind him of the waves of the sea. He can see in each species not only a variety in the color and form of its foliage, but some characteristic which reminds him of some human being. The rugged oak or apple tree recalls to his mind some sturdy man, of great strength and honesty of character, with picturesque but awkward manners. The gracefully swaying branches of the stately elm or weeping willow remind him of some woman whose elegant form and manners make her as lovely as the moon and as beautiful as light. The rapid and constant motion of the foliage of the poplar and the aspen reminds him of some nervous and excitable person who is never quiet or easy for a moment. The prim spruce-tree suggests to him some person of formal habits and primness of dress. The symmetrical maple and pine remind him of some quiet and dignified character who is well balanced and rounded at every point. The patriarchal tree which has outlived all its companions and stands alone with few and withered branches, but still raising its majestic head to heaven as if in supplication for blessings on the earth, reminds him of some gray-haired person who, full of years and rich in faith, after a well-spent life is approaching and can almost see the other side of the river which separates this life from the eternal world. If he has a taste for domestic and pastoral scenery, it is gratified as he views the green pastures and meadows, the waving grain-fields, and the occasional gleam of water through the foliage. Ever and anon he passes by some dwelling where the charms of culture have been added to the charms of Nature. By kind treatment the grass-plat before the door has become a refreshing piece of verdure. By careful pruning and training the trees on the lawn have become objects of beauty, and cast their graceful shadows over the velvety greensward beneath. The woodbine tastefully trained over the porch, the flower-bed in the yard brilliant with flowers, and the garden and the fruit orchard in the field, all tend to cheer and sanctify human life in such an abode. Perchance the road runs by some rural homestead which reminds him of his own ancestral home, humble yet beautiful to him, and all the scenes of his childhood come vividly to mind as fond recollection presents them to view. He is once more a barefoot boy, and all is outward sunshine and inward joy. He slacks his thirst once more from the well by the door or at the spring on the hillside; and he visits again the old familiar play-ground, the lane through which the cows are driven, the brook where the sheep are washed, the fish are caught, and the boys go in swimming. When the road leads him into the mountains or in sight of them, he is charmed by their majesty and awed by their sublimity. A mountain panorama presents all the characteristic phases of Nature and all the moving variation of the atmosphere. At one time they are cloud-capped and surrounded with fog, and then in an incredibly short time they are glittering in a halo of sunlight. As one beholds their majestic heads, around which the storms of centuries have beat, disappear as twilight changes into night, he can but feel oppressed with the gloom and melancholy of the scene. But in the morning, when-- "Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops," he can but conclude with Ruskin, that "mountain scenery has been prepared in order to unite as far as possible and in the closest compass every means of delighting and sanctifying the heart of man. Mountains seem to have been built for the human race, as at once their schools and cathedrals, full of treasures of illuminated manuscript for the scholar, kindly in simple lessons to the worker, quiet in pale cloisters for the thinker, glowing in holiness for the worshipper." Then, again, a country road is a good place to become acquainted with some forms of animal and vegetable life. The odors of growing vegetation, the movement of squirrels and other creatures, and the song of birds, all have a tendency to impress one with the idea that the material world is animated with life. And when the sun pours down a flood of glowing sunlight, and swathes the traveller and the whole world with its glowing and life-giving beams, he realizes that the sun is the source of every material blessing. In the city people know in a general way that the sun is the source of heat and light, and that he adds to their comfort and convenience, as do the electric light and the fire on the hearth; but they hardly realize that his rays are necessary for their existence, to say nothing of their comfort, for even a week. But when a traveller in the morning sees all animated Nature stirring and rejoicing with the throbbings of warmed and rejuvenated life; when he looks out over the landscape and sees the sun raising in misty vapors the water which supplies our springs, lakes, and streams, and refreshes the earth in showers of rain, he realizes that the sun is not only the fire which warms the world, but it is also the mighty hydraulic engine of Nature. These are some of the enjoyments of the way; but every thoughtful and observing traveller knows that they cannot be enumerated. Like Burroughs, "he is not isolated, but one with things, with the farms and industries on either hand. The vital, universal currents play through him. He knows the ground is alive: he feels the pulses of the wind, and reads the mute language of things. His sympathies are all aroused; his senses are continually reporting messages to his mind. Wind, frost, rain, heat, cold, are something to him. He is not merely a spectator of the panorama of Nature, but a participator in it. He experiences the country he passes through,--tastes it, feels it, absorbs it." Neither is he confined to the material demonstrations of Nature for his enjoyment of the way. Some of the greatest sermons and speeches have been thought out on the road. A solitary traveller can think calmly and thoughtfully on the great problems of life and death, and can learn to appreciate the fact that "the gods approve the depth, and not the tumult, of the soul." * * * * * University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. 
40759	----	Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=. Stede Hill, cross-referenced in the Index, does not have an Index entry. THE OLD ROAD [Illustration: WINCHESTER] THE OLD ROAD BY H. BELLOC ILLUSTRATED BY WILLIAM HYDE LONDON CONSTABLE AND COMPANY LIMITED 1911 TO PHILIP KERSHAW AND HAROLD BAKER MY COMPANIONS ON THIS JOURNEY CONTENTS PAGE ON THE ROAD AND THE FASCINATION OF ANTIQUITY 3 THE THEORY OF THE OLD ROAD THAT SUCH AND SUCH CAUSES DETERMINED THE TRACK OF THE OLD ROAD, AND THAT IT RAN FROM WINCHESTER TO CANTERBURY 15 THE CAUSES OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF WINCHESTER AND CANTERBURY, AND OF THEIR POSITION AS TERMINI OF THE OLD ROAD 29 THE CAUSES OF THE PRESERVATION OF THE OLD ROAD; ITS GENERAL CHARACTER, AND OUR APPLICATION OF THIS IN OUR METHOD OF RECOVERING IT 72 THE EXPLORATION OF THE ROAD WINCHESTER TO ALTON 117 ALTON TO SHALFORD 147 SHALFORD TO DORKING PITS 160 BOXHILL TO TITSEY 188 TITSEY TO WROTHAM 214 WROTHAM TO BOXLEY 231 BOXLEY TO CANTERBURY 256 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS WINCHESTER, _Photogravure frontispiece_ _Facing page_ A ROAD MOST TYPICAL OF ALL THAT ROADS HAVE BEEN FOR US, 8 THESE PITS WHICH UNCOVER THE CHALK BARE FOR US, 26 GLIMPSES OF THE ITCHEN AWAY BEHIND US, 60 THE CHURCH OF SHERE, 110 THE HEAD-WATERS WHICH FORM THE ITCHEN, THE ALRE AND OTHER STREAMS, 128 ROUGH, AND MARKED ONLY BY RUTS IN THE WINTER SOIL, AND BY ITS RANK OF SECULAR TREES, 162 THAT CURIOUS PLATFORM WHICH SUPPORTS IN SUCH AN IMMENSE ANTIQUITY OF CONSECRATION THE RUINS OF ST. CATHERINE'S CHAPEL, 163 A PLACE OF CLOSE DARK AND VARIOUS TREES, FULL OF A DAMP AIR, AND GLOOMY WITH STANDING WATER-RUTS, 174 THAT SPLENDID AVENUE OF LIMES, 176 IT STOOD OUT LIKE A CAPE ALONG OUR COASTING JOURNEY, OUR NAVIGATION OF THE LINE OF THE DOWNS, 182 AND BEYOND THE WHOLE OF THE WEALD, 200 THE MOST IMPORTANT OF THE RIVERS IT MEETS UPON ITS COURSE, THE MEDWAY, 238 ROCHESTER, 252 THE SHEEP IN THE NARROW LANES, OR THE LEANING CONES OF THE HOP-KILNS AGAINST THE SKY, 260 THE PLOUGHLANDS UNDER ORCHARDS: ALL THE KENTISH WEALD, 268 SUCH A MAGIC OF GREAT HEIGHT AND DARKNESS, 278 MAP _at end_ ON THE ROAD AND THE FASCINATION OF ANTIQUITY ON THE ROAD AND THE FASCINATION OF ANTIQUITY There are primal things which move us. Fire has the character of a free companion that has travelled with us from the first exile; only to see a fire, whether he need it or no, comforts every man. Again, to hear two voices outside at night after a silence, even in crowded cities, transforms the mind. A Roof also, large and mothering, satisfies us here in the north much more than modern necessity can explain; so we built in beginning: the only way to carry off our rains and to bear the weight of our winter snows. A Tower far off arrests a man's eye always: it is more than a break in the sky-line; it is an enemy's watch or the rallying of a defence to whose aid we are summoned. Nor are these emotions a memory or a reversion only as one crude theory might pretend; we craved these things--the camp, the refuge, the sentinels in the dark, the hearth--before we made them; they are part of our human manner, and when this civilisation has perished they will reappear. Of these primal things the least obvious but the most important is The Road. It does not strike the sense as do those others I have mentioned; we are slow to feel its influence. We take it so much for granted that its original meaning escapes us. Men, indeed, whose pleasure it is perpetually to explore even their own country on foot, and to whom its every phase of climate is delightful, receive, somewhat tardily, the spirit of The Road. They feel a meaning in it; it grows to suggest the towns upon it, it explains its own vagaries, and it gives a unity to all that has arisen along its way. But for the mass The Road is silent; it is the humblest and the most subtle, but, as I have said, the greatest and the most original of the spells which we inherit from the earliest pioneers of our race. It was the most imperative and the first of our necessities. It is older than building and than wells; before we were quite men we knew it, for the animals still have it to-day; they seek their food and their drinking-places, and, as I believe, their assemblies, by known tracks which they have made. It is easy to re-create in oneself to-day a sense of what the Road means to living things on land: it is easy to do it even in this crowded country. Walk, for instance, on the neglected Pennines along the watershed of England, from Malham Tarn, say, to Ribblehead, or from Kirkby Stephen up along the crest to Crossfell and so to Alston, and you will learn at once what follows on an untouched soil from the absence of a track--of a guide. One ravine out of the many radiating from a summit will lead to the one valley you seek; take another stream and you are condemned at last to traverse mountains to repair the error. In a fog or at night, if one has not such a path, there is nothing to help one but the lay of the snow or the trend of the vegetation under the last gale. In climbing, the summit is nearly always hidden, and nothing but a track will save you from false journeys. In descent it alone will save you a precipice or an unfordable stream. It knows upon which side an obstacle can be passed, where there is firm land in a morass, and where there is the best going; sand or rock--dry soil. It will find what nothing but long experiment can find for an individual traveller, the precise point in a saddle or neck where approach is easiest from either side, and everywhere the Road, especially the very early Road, is wiser than it seems to be. It reminds one of those old farmers who do not read, and whom we think at first unreasoning in their curious and devious ways, but whom, if we watch closely, we shall find doing all their work just in that way which infinite time has taught the country-side. Thus I know an old man in Sussex who never speaks but to say that everything needs rest. Land, he says, certainly; and also he believes iron and wood. For this he is still ridiculed, but what else are the most learned saying now? And I know a path in the Vosges which, to the annoyance of those who travel by it, is irrational: it turns sharp northward and follows under a high ridge, instead of directly crossing it: some therefore leave it and lose all their pains, for, if you will trust to that path you will find it crosses the ridge at last at the only place where, on the far side, it is passable at all; all before and beyond that point is a little ledge of precipice which no one could go down. More than rivers and more than mountain chains, roads have moulded the political groups of men. The Alps with a mule-track across them are less of a barrier than fifteen miles of forest or rough land separating one from that track. Religions, which are the principal formers of mankind, have followed the roads only, leaping from city to city and leaving the 'Pagani,' in the villages off the road, to a later influence. Consider the series Jerusalem, Antioch, Ephesus, Athens, and the Appian Way: Rome, all the tradition of the Tuscan highway, the Ligurian coast, Marseilles and Lyons. I have read in some man's book that the last link of that chain was the river Rhone; but this man can never have tried to pull a boat upon the Rhone up-stream. It was the Road that laid the train. The Mass had reached Lyons before, perhaps, the last disciple of the apostles was dead: in the Forez, just above, four hundred years later, there were most probably offerings at night to the pagan gods of those sombre and neglected hills. And with religions all that is built on them: letters, customs, community of language and idea, have followed the Road, because humanity, which is the matter of religion, must also follow the road it has made. Architecture follows it, commerce of course, all information: it is even so with the poor thin philosophies, each in its little day drifts, for choice, down a road. The sacredness which everywhere attaches to The Road has its sanction in all these uses, but especially in that antiquity from which the quality of things sacred is drawn: and with the mention of the word 'antiquity' I may explain another desire which led me to the study I have set down in this book: not only did I desire to follow a road most typical of all that roads have been for us in western Europe, but also to plunge right into the spirit of the oldest monument of the life men led on this island: I mean the oldest of which a continuous record remains. [Illustration: A ROAD MOST TYPICAL OF ALL THAT ROADS HAVE BEEN FOR US] To study something of great age until one grows familiar with it and almost to live in its time, is not merely to satisfy a curiosity or to establish aimless truths: it is rather to fulfil a function whose appetite has always rendered History a necessity. By the recovery of the Past, stuff and being are added to us; our lives which, lived in the present only, are a film or surface, take on body--are lifted into one dimension more. The soul is fed. Reverence and knowledge and security and the love of a good land--all these are increased or given by the pursuit of this kind of learning. Visions or intimations are confirmed. It is excellent to see perpetual agony and failure perpetually breeding the only enduring things; it is excellent to see the crimes we know ground under the slow wheels whose ponderous advance we can hardly note during the flash of one human life. One may say that historical learning grants men glimpses of life completed and a whole; and such a vision should be the chief solace of whatever is mortal and cut off imperfectly from fulfilment. Now of all that study the chief charm lies in mere antiquity. No one truly loves history who is not more exalted according to the greater age of the new things he finds. Though things are less observable as they are farther away, yet their appeal is directly increased by such a distance in a manner which all know though none can define it. It is not illusion; perhaps an ultimate reality stands out when the details are obscured. At any rate it is the appeal which increases as we pass further from the memories of childhood, or from the backward vision of those groups of mountain which seem to rise higher and more awfully into the air as we abandon them across the plains. Antiquity of that degree conveys--I cannot pretend to say how--echoes which are exactly attuned to whatever is least perishable in us. After the present and manifold voice of Religion to which these echoes lead, and with which in a sense they merge, I know of nothing more nobly answering the perpetual questioning of a man. Nor of all the vulgar follies about us is any more despicable than that which regards the future with complacency, and finds nothing but imperfection in that innocent, creative, and wondering past which the antiquaries and geologists have revealed to us. For my part I desired to step exactly in the footprints of such ancestors. I believed that, as I followed their hesitations at the river-crossings, as I climbed where they had climbed to a shrine whence they also had seen a wide plain, as I suffered the fatigue they suffered, and laboriously chose, as they had chosen, the proper soils for going, something of their much keener life would wake again in the blood I drew from them, and that in a sort I should forget the vileness of my own time, and renew for some few days the better freedom of that vigorous morning when men were already erect, articulate, and worshipping God, but not yet broken by complexity and the long accumulation of evil. It was perhaps a year ago that I determined to follow and piously to recover the whole of that doubtful trail whereby they painfully made their way from one centre of their common life to the sea, which was at once their chief mystery and their only passage to the rest of their race--from Hampshire to the Straits of Dover. Many, I knew, had written about that road; much of it was known, but much also was lost. No one, to my knowledge, had explored it in its entirety. First, therefore, I read what had been written about this most ancient way, I visited men who were especially learned in geology and in antiquarian knowledge, I took notes from them, and I carefully studied the maps of all sorts that could help me in my business. Then, taking one companion, I set out late in December to recover and map out yard by yard all that could be recovered and mapped out of The Old Road. No better task could be put before a man, and the way in which I accomplished it my readers shall judge in the essay which follows this introduction, and in the diary of my journey with which the book shall close. THE THEORY OF THE OLD ROAD THAT SUCH AND SUCH CAUSES DETERMINED THE TRACK OF THE OLD ROAD, AND THAT IT RAN FROM WINCHESTER TO CANTERBURY [Illustration] If one looks at a map of England in relief one sees that five great ridges of high land come, the first from just east of north, the second from the north-east, the third and fourth from the east, and the fifth from the south and west, to converge on Wilts and the Hampshire border. Roughly speaking, their area of convergence is Salisbury Plain, and it has been suggested that Avebury and Stonehenge drew the importance of their sites from this convergence; for these continuous high lands would present the first natural highways by which a primitive people could gather from all parts of the island. The advantages afforded in the matter of travel by such hills (which are called in great parts of their course the Cotswold, the Chilterns, the North Downs, the South Downs, and the Dorsetshire Downs) are still quite plainly apparent if a man will follow them on foot. He will see from the heights even to-day the remains of the woodland which made the valleys and the wealds originally far more difficult to traverse. He will note the greater dryness of these heights, and he will remark, if he contrast his cross-country going on the hills with that of the valleys, that the geological formation of these heights, with their contours, fit them peculiarly for an original means of communication. Four out of the five are great dry, turf-covered ridges of chalk, steep towards the summer sun. The fifth range, the Cotswold, though oolitic and therefore greasy under foot, is at the summit of its western escarpment much drier than the valleys; for that escarpment is steep, and drains off well into the valley of the Severn. When one has once recognised the importance of these five radiating lines of hills and of their point of convergence, one will next see that of the five, one in particular must have had an especial value perhaps in the very earliest times, and certainly in all the centuries just preceding the historic period, during which Britain, from similarities in religion, language, and blood, was closely connected with the Continent. The passage westward from the Straits of Dover to the Hampshire centres must have been by far the most important line of traffic. We know that it has been so continuously in historic times, and it is easy to prove that long before the opening of our national history with the Roman invasions, some east-to-west road must have been the leading road of England. Few of the following considerations are new, but all are to the purpose: 1. The Straits of Dover are the natural entry into the country. The nature of that entry, and its very great effect upon the development of our island, I will discuss later in connection with the town of Canterbury. How far the Straits may have a rival lower down the Channel I will discuss in connection with the town of Winchester. For the present, the main point is that in the earliest times, whoever came in and out of the country came in and out most easily by the only harbours whence the further shore is visible. 2. When the Straits had been crossed and England entered, whither would the principal road lead? The conformation of Kent forced it westward, for the Thames estuary forbade a northern, the only alternative route. One track of great importance did indeed go north and west, crossing near London. It was later known as the Watling Street; it was the artery which drained the Midlands; it became the connection with sacred Anglesey, ultimately the northern door into Ireland. But no northern road--whether leading as did the Watling Street to Chester, or bending round as did the Icknield Way north-east after passing the ford of the Thames, or taking the island in diagonal as did the Fosse Way, or leading from London to the Humber as did the Ermine Street, or up at last to the Wall as did the Maiden Way--none of these could have a principal importance until the Romans invented frontiers: frontier garrisons to be fed, and frontier walls to be defended. Before their time this northern portion of England, split by the barren Pennines, hardly cultivated, leading nowhere, could not have been a goal for our principal road. That must have run to the south of Thames, and must have led from the Straits to the districts of which I have spoken--Hampshire, the Mendips, the Wiltshire Hills, Devonshire, and Cornwall. 3. The west of the island contained its principal supplies of mineral. Lead indeed was found and exploited in the north, but perhaps not before the Romans, whereas the variety and the amount of the wealth in the valley of the Severn and the peninsula beyond gave all that region an economic preponderance over the rest of the island. Tin, an absolute necessity for the Mediterranean civilisation, was certainly found in Cornwall, though the identification of the Scilly Islands with the Cassiterides is doubtful. The Mendips formed another metallic centre, presumably richer than even the Devonian peninsula. Lead certainly came in early times regularly from these hills, and Gloucester remained till the Middle Ages associated with the tax on iron. 4. There is a fourth aspect of the matter: it is of a sort that history neglects, but it is one the importance of which will be recognised with increasing force if the public knowledge of the past is destined to advance. It is that powers mainly resident in the mind have moulded society and its implements. That economic tendency upon which our materialists lay so great a stress is equally immaterial (did they but know it) with the laws they profess to ignore, and is but one form of the common power which human need evokes. A man must not only eat, he must eat according to his soul: he must live among his own, he must have this to play with, that to worship, he must rest his eyes upon a suitable landscape, he must separate himself from men discordant to him, and also combat them when occasion serves. The south-west of England has had in this region of ideas from the earliest times a special character and a peculiar value. It is one in spirit with Brittany, with Ireland, and with Wales; nor is it by any means certain that this racial sympathy was the product of the Saxon invasions alone. It is possible that the slower and heavier men were in Kent before Caesar landed, it must be remembered that our theory of 'waves of population' perpetually pressing aborigines westward remains nothing but a theory, while it is certain that the sheltered vales and the high tors would nourish men very different from those of the East Anglian flats or the Weald. Now one of the forces which helps to produce a road is the necessity of interchange--what physicists call potential--a difference between opposite poles. Such a force is to be discovered in the permanent character of the west; its permanent differentiation from our eastern seaboard. Nor is it fantastic to insist upon the legends which illumine this corner of the island. Glastonbury was for centuries the most sacred spot in our country, and it was sacred precisely because confused memories of an immense antiquity clung round it. The struggle between the Romano-British princes and the heathen pirates, a struggle the main effort of which must have taken place much further east, is yet fixed by legend in that same land of abrupt rocks and isolated valleys which forms the eastern margin of the Bristol Channel, and Arthur, who was king if anything of the Logrians, yet has been given by tradition a castle at Tintagel. To the west, then, would the main road have gone so far as the mind could drive it. 5. The eastern and western road would have been the main artery of southern England, just as the Icknield Way (the north-eastern and south-western one along the Chilterns) would have been the main artery from the Midlands and from the men of the Fens, just as the road along the Cotswold would have been the artery along the Severn valley and from the bend of this at the Wrekin on up into the Fells and the Pennines; and just as that along the Dorsetshire Downs would have been the great means of communication for the Devonian peninsula. Now of all these districts, the first was by far the most important. Southern and eastern England, Hampshire, Surrey, Sussex, south Berkshire, were the most open and the best cultivated areas, enjoyed the best climate, and were most in touch with the civilisation of the Continent. It is true to say that right down to the industrial revolution the centre of gravity of England lay south of the Thames. In the actual fighting the south always conquered the north, and whereas influence monastic and constitutional would spread from either end of the island, it was the southern which ultimately survived. There is more. It was along the green-sand ridge of south England that neolithic man had his principal seat. The getting of iron sprang up before history on the red stone of the Sussex weald; it remained there till our grandfathers' time. The oaks that grew from Kent to Devon, along so many creeks from the Rother to the Tamar, built our first ships. They remained our resource for this industry till the Napoleonic wars. The _Victory_ was launched in Beaulieu River, and the first eye-witness, Caesar, heard that in cultivation the south had preceded the north. 6. Finally, not only was the district the best in England to develop an important road, but the platform or site for that road was ready provided, and invited use much more definitely than did any other way from the narrow seas up into the island. * * * * * With this last point I am led to describe the natural causeway which seems to call for a traveller landing in Kent to use it if he would go westward, or for one leaving the inland country to use it as the last part of his journey eastward towards the sea--I mean those heights which are called in their entirety the North Downs. There runs from the neighbourhood of the Straits of Dover right across south England, in a great bow, a range of hills which for its length, unchanging pattern and aspect, has no exact parallel in Europe. A man who should leave the Straits with the object of reaching the Hampshire centres would find a moderately steep, dry, chalky slope, always looking full towards the southern sun, bare of trees, cut by but three river valleys (and but one of these of any width), not often indented with combes or projecting spurs: this conspicuous range would lead him by the mere view of it straight on to his destination. [Illustration] When you have turned the corner of the valley of the Stour, you can see for miles and miles the Kentish Downs like a wall pointing on over the Medway to Wrotham and the villages beyond. When you reach that projecting shoulder of Wrotham Hill you can still see on for miles and miles the straight, clean-cut embankment of chalk inviting you to pursue it westward at such a height as will clear the last cultivation of the valleys, and as will give you some view of your further progress. The end of each day's march is clearly apparent from the beginning of it, and the whole is seen to lie along this astonishingly homogeneous ridge. You do not lose that advantage for perhaps four days of going until you reach the valley of the Wey and the Guildford Gap; and even then for many miles further, though no longer on the chalk but on the sand, a sharp hillside, still looking at the sun, is afforded you in the Hog's Back. You may say that from the Straits of Dover to Farnham, Nature herself laid down the platform of a perfectly defined ridge, from which a man going west could hardly deviate, even if there were no path to guide him. [Illustration: THESE PITS WHICH UNCOVER THE CHALK BARE FOR US _See page 191_] From Farnham to the converging point near Salisbury, where he would meet the northern, the western, and the south-western roads, no definite ridge continued; but high rolling downs of chalk gave him good enough going, and led him along a water-parting which saved him the crossing of rivers, and afforded for his last two or three days a dry and firm soil. Such, we must presume, was the full course of the original Road from east to west. To put it the other way round, and give from west to east the primeval track from the centre of south England to the Straits of Dover, we may say that it would leave Stonehenge to enter Hampshire near Quarley Hill, leave Bury Hill Camp on the right, pass near Whitchurch, and so proceeding eastward, following the southern edge of the watershed, would enter Farnham by the line of 'Farnham Lane'; it would thence follow the southern side of the range of hills until it reached the sea above the Portus Lemanis--the inlet which covered the marshy plain below the present village Lympne. Such was undoubtedly the earliest form of the Old Road, but upon this original trajectory two exceptions fell in a time so remote that it has hardly left a record. The western end of the Road was deflected and came to spring, not from Stonehenge, but from the site of Winchester; the eastern portion was cut short: it terminated, not at some port, but at Canterbury, inland. Why did Winchester come to absorb the traffic of the west, and to form the depôt and the political centre of southern England? Why did Canterbury, an inland town, become the goal of this long journey towards the narrow seas? The importance of the one and of the other can be explained. Let me take them in order, and begin first with Canterbury. THE CAUSES OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF WINCHESTER AND CANTERBURY, AND OF THEIR POSITION AS TERMINI OF THE OLD ROAD The Straits of Dover fill the history of this island because they have afforded our principal gate upon a full life. All isolated territories--valleys difficult of entry, peninsulas, islands--have this double quality: they are not sufficient to live a full life of themselves, but, receiving sufficient material of civilisation from the larger world outside, they will use it intensively and bring it to the summit of perfection. Cut off, they wither. Nowhere does humanity fall more abject and lethargic than in such defended places, if the defence be too long maintained. But let them admit from time to time the invasion of armies or ideas, and nowhere does humanity flourish more densely or higher. The arts, the fierce air of patriotism, in whose heat alone the gems of achievement can form, the solution of abstract problems, the expression of the soul in letters--for all these things seclusion provides a special opportunity. It protects their origins from the enemies of seeds, it nurtures their growth with the advantage of a still air, it gives them a resting-place for their maturity. The valleys prove my thesis. The abandoned valleys of Savoy and Piedmont are goitrous, smitten, sterile. They are the places where, in the Middle Ages, vapid degradations of religion (the Waldensian for instance) could arise; they are the back-waters of Europe. Contrast with them the principal and open valleys; the valley of the Grésivaudan, a trench sown with wealth and vigour, the dale which is the backbone of strong Dauphiné, or that valley of the Romanche from which the Revolution sprang, or that of the Ticino which comes down from the Alps to the Italian plain, rejoicing like a virgin stepping forward into the ample day of her womanhood, arms open and all informed with life. Remember the Limagne and the Nemosian vineyard; I could think that God had made these half-secluded places to prop up our fading memories of Paradise. And as the valleys, so the islands also prove it. Consider Crete, Cyprus, Sicily--for the matter of that our own island--what they can be when they are linked with neighbouring civilisation, and what when they are cut off. The place of landing, therefore, is always capital and sacred for islands, and with us that place was chiefly the Kentish shore. It might seem natural that some special haven upon that shore should absorb our traditions and receive our principal road. It was not so. Canterbury, and no port, received that road and became the nucleus of worship in the island. Why? Canterbury, and not some port, is the terminus of the Old Road, on account of the effect of the tide in the Straits of Dover. The bastion of Kent, jutting out into the sharpest current of the narrow seas, distorts and confuses the violent tides of the Channel. Now complexity of tides involves a multiplicity of harbours, and many neighbouring harbours among which seamen choose as necessity may drive them, involve a common centre inland. That is the whole of my argument. We have already seen how necessarily this corner of England will attract exit and entry. The most powerful emotion connected with that attraction was the sight of land. There is but one small section of the continental coast whence England, the sun shining on the chalk cliffs, can be clearly seen; and it can be so seen but upon certain days, say one day out of three. The little section lies between Sangatte and Ambleteuse. Here a great hill, whose seaward projection is the cape of Gris Nez, affords a good look-out, and hence I say that at least 120 days out of the year the further shore is visible. On rarer occasions it may be got beyond Calais on the east, and as far as the high sandhills near Etaples on the south and west. [Illustration] Similarly there is but a small section of the Kentish coast whence the further shore can be seen. It extends from the South Foreland, you may say, to the hill above Folkestone; half a day's walk. There are days when you can see it as far north as Ramsgate Hill, but those days are rare; further west than Folkestone it is hardly ever seen (for the country is flat) save under conditions of mirage, such as startled the people of Hastings at the beginning of the nineteenth century. There are from the continental side no good starting-points from the coast immediate to Gris Nez; it is rocky, uncertain, and unprovided with inlets. Calais, to the east, was probably the earliest port of departure. Here, at least, is a hole in the land, and there are two considerations which make it probable that the earliest men would start from this side of Gris Nez rather than the other. The first is that they could run as far as possible sheltered from the prevailing winds--for these come from the west and south-west; with such winds they would, up to the point of Gris Nez, be in calm water, while if they started from Boulogne they would have no such advantage. The second is that they could run with an ebb tide down to Gris Nez, and then if the wind failed so that they could not cross in one tide, the flood would be to their advantage when they neared the English coast. It would take them up again under lee of the land, round the South Foreland to Sandwich. From Boulogne they would have to start without shelter, run up on a flood tide, and if they missed that tide they might have drifted down again under the full force of the prevailing wind, any distance along the English coast. Boulogne ultimately became the principal port of exit and entry. It was certainly so used by the Romans; but Calais must, I think, have been the earliest starting-point. From Calais, then, the run would have been made to the English shores. But when we note the conditions of this corner of England several things strike us. In the first place, the number of the harbours. These included originally Winchelsea, Rye, the Portus Lemanis, Dover, Richborough, Reculvers; in all six harbours in this small stretch of coast. If we look at the place to-day we find something similar; men will attempt Rye, they will make Folkestone or Dover for choice; Sandwich at a pinch in quite small boats. Ramsgate after Dover gives the best of modern opportunities. There is something more. Most of these harbours were and are bad; most of them were and are artificial. It is true that in ancient times the strait which divided the Island of Thanet from the mainland afforded an excellent shelter at either end. Reculvers was at one end, and the island of Rutupiae (Richborough) at the other. If one could not get into Richborough and was carried round the North Foreland, one could always beat round into Reculvers; but Dover was not much of a harbour; the Port Lemanis must have been open to the south wind and was probably very shallow; Rye, though better than it is now, was never a steep shore, and was always a difficult place to make. The modern harbours may, without exaggeration, be described as every one of them artificial. Folkestone is distinctly so. The old harbour of Dover has silted up centuries ago, and the gas works of the town are built over its site. Ramsgate would be of no value but for the two constructed piers. Now what is the meaning of this multiplicity, and of all this interest in preserving such a multiplicity even by artificial means? The tide is the clue to the problem. Consider a man starting from the continental shore to reach England; consider him sailing with a fresh breeze, for if the breeze was not fresh his chances of crossing in a reasonable time and of making any particular place of landing were small. Consider the fact that if he crossed in a fresh breeze that breeze would be, three times out of four, from the south or west. He runs under the lee of Gris Nez, and when he is beyond that point of rock, he gets into the short, sharp tumble of the sea which is raised by such a wind against the tide, for he has started at the ebb. He runs down with the wind abeam perhaps as far as the end of the Varne (where we now have the Varne Buoy), for the tide so takes him. He sees the water breaking and boiling at this shallow place. It settles near the turn of the tide. He holds on easily, making less westing and pointing well up to the shore. There opens before him a broad but very shallow lagoon with probably some central channel which he knows. He enters and has made the most favourable of the many crossings he knows. It is the Portus Lemanis--our Lympne. But there are other chances. The wind might fail him, or the wind might so increase that he had to run before it. Did it fail him he would be caught by the flood tide some miles from land. He would drift up along the English shore, getting a few hundred yards nearer with every catspaw, and looking impatiently for some place to which he could steer. The dip in the cliffs at Dover would give him a chance perhaps. If he missed that he would round the South Foreland; he would have the advantage of smooth water, and he would make for the island Rutupiae, which stood at the southern entrance of the strait between the Isle of Thanet and the mainland. If his bad luck preserved, he might be swept up in what we now call the Gull Stream round the North Foreland; but the tide would have been making so long by this time as to be curling round Longnose, and even without the wind he could trust to it almost alone to make Reculvers. Similarly if the wind made him run before it and caused him to miss the Portus Lemanis, he would have the advantage of a weather shore once he was round the South Foreland, and could run with smooth water under him into Rutupiae. With the prevalent winds, then, and the tidal conditions of the Straits, a multiplicity of harbours was a necessity for this crossing. In a tideless sea--such as the Mediterranean--one harbour, and one alone, would have absorbed the trade of Kent. Under our tidal conditions, a coast most ill-provided was compelled to furnish no less than six. I could add, were I not afraid of confusing the reader, many other examples of this necessity. For instance, when one runs from the Belgian ports, or Dunkirk, to England, ever so little a change in the wind may make it necessary to go north above the North Foreland. Again, there is the barrier of the Goodwins, which, in spite of legend, is probably prehistoric. If you could not get well south of that barrier at the first trial you had to go north of it. Everything has compelled men, so far, to provide as many chances as possible upon this coast, and at the present day the breakwater at Folkestone, the desperate attempt which many still make to use the harbour of Rye, to some extent the great works of Dover, the poor relic of Sandwich, the continual improvement of Ramsgate, point to the same necessity. Perhaps some refuge less distant from the sea than the estuary of the Swale will be made again to replace Reculvers upon the north of the Kentish coast. [Illustration] Now it is this multiplicity of Kentish harbours proceeding from the conditions of the tide which has created Canterbury. When an army has to spread out like the fingers of a hand or the sticks of a fan in order to cover a wide area, it must start from some point of concentration. When commerce is in doubt as to whether it will use this, that, or another out of many gates, it must equally have this point of concentration. When defenders are expecting an invasion from many points of a circumference, their only plan is to make their base some central point whence radii depart to that circumference. When the traveller is uncertain which of six places he can choose for his departure, he will halt at some point more or less central, while his decision is being made for him by the weather or by other circumstances. When a merchant, landing, knows not in which of six towns he shall land, he must at least be certain that some one town, common as it were to all the six, can be reached the day after his landing; he must know that his correspondents can meet him there, and that he may make that common town his depôt for further transactions inland. Thus it was that the six Kentish ports and more, standing on the edge of that rounded county, created Canterbury inland. * * * * * The town might have stood, theoretically, at any one of a great number of points; geometrically perhaps it ought to have been near the village of Goodnestone, which is the centre of all this circumference from Reculvers round to Lympne. But there is one governing condition which forbids us to look for such a centre anywhere save upon one line, and that condition is the river Stour. It is the only considerable body of fresh water, and the only easy means of communication with the interior. On the Stour, then, would the centre of these ports be. It might conceivably have been placed as far westward as Wye, for here the Stour traverses the high ridge of land which provides a good road from Dover and Folkestone to the north and west, but though this ridge would have given a reason for the growth of our central town at this spot, there is a better reason for its having risen six miles down stream. The tendency was to build such a place as near as possible to the tide without losing the advantage of fresh water. In other words, Canterbury represents on a smaller scale the founding of Exeter, of Rouen, and of twenty other towns. Quite a short time ago the tide went up the Stour as far as Fordwych, just below Canterbury, and the presence of the tide up to a point just below the city, coupled with the presence of fresh water flowing from above the city, seems to me to have decided the matter. The many conjectures upon the primitive state of Canterbury, whether it were a lake village built upon piles, or what not, I do not presume to discuss. The certain matter is that this place was the knot of south-eastern England, and the rallying-point of all the roads from the coast. Caesar landed at Deal, but Canterbury fort was the place he had to take; Augustine landed at Richborough, but Canterbury was the place wherein he fixed the origins of Christianity in England. It was bound to counterpoise that other city of which I shall next speak, and to be for the Straits of Dover what Winchester was for the centre of south English civilisation. It so happened that, of the many characters it might have assumed, the ecclesiastical attached to it. It became the great nucleus of English worship, and the origin, under Rome, of English discipline and unity in the faith for nearly seven hundred years. At last, influencing as much as influenced by the event, the murder of its great Archbishop in the later twelfth century, lent it, for the last three hundred years of its hegemony, a position unique in Europe. Canterbury during those three hundred years was almost a sacred city. Having said so much, then, about the eastern end of the Road, and why that end was found inland and not upon the sea, let us consider its western region and determine what forces produced the political domination of Winchester. * * * * * We have seen that the route from the island centre of Stonehenge and Avebury (the plain where the old roads meet) to the Straits of Dover, may be regarded as the original of our communications across the south of the island, from the rich west to the mainland. Such it might have remained to this day, and such it would certainly have remained throughout the period preceding the Roman invasion, and throughout the barbaric centuries which succeeded the withdrawal of the legions, had not a powerful influence (to repeat what was said above) modified the original track and substituted, at least for its earlier portion as far as Farnham, another road. We know that the great way from west to east which should have had its origin in Salisbury Plain, found it as a fact in Winchester. Why was this? Why did the encampment or town upon the Itchen gather round itself a special character, and become the depôt into which would stream the lead of the Mendips, the tin of Cornwall, and the armies of all Britain south of Gloucester and west of the Wiltshire Avon? To sum up all these questions we may ask in one phrase, as we asked at Canterbury: What made Winchester? The answer is again, The Sea: the necessities and the accidents of the crossing of the Channel; and just as Canterbury was made by the peculiarity of the Straits, by the bastion of Kent, confusing and disturbing the rush of the narrow channel, and causing the complexity of meeting tides, so Winchester was made by the peculiar conditions under which the Channel can be passed at what I will call, for the purposes of this essay, the 'Second Crossing': that is, the passage from the jutting promontory of the Cotentin to the southern cape of the Isle of Wight, which stands so boldly out into the sea, and invites adventure from the French shore. The great opportunity of this passage is far less apparent to us moderns than it was to earlier men. With our artificial methods, especially our regular service of steam, we are ignorant or forgetful of the sea, and the true emotions which it arouses have decayed into the ineptitudes with which we are all familiar. We talk of 'commanding' that element in war; there are even some who write as though we of the towns were native to it; there are very few who understand with what divinity it has prompted, allured, and terrified the past of our race, or under what aspect it may prompt, allure, and terrify the men of a future decline. By the map alone no one could discover the character of this Second Crossing. After the Straits of Dover the 'sleeve' of the Channel widens so considerably that no clear alternative passage appears to be provided. From Etaples right away to Ushant one might think a sea so wide was of much the same peril and adventure to any early sailor. Physical experience of many passages corrects such an error; a consideration of the political history of the Continent tends further to correct it. The Second Crossing was, and has always been, and will, we may presume, in the future be, second only in importance to that of the Straits. [Illustration] If the narrowing of the sea, due to the northward projection of Normandy and the southern projection of the Isle of Wight, were alone our guide, not very much could be made of it. It is more than double, it is nearly three times the distance between Gris Nez and Shakespeare's Cliff, though far less than the breadth of the Channel either above or below. But the narrowing of the sea at this point is but a small part of its advantage. On either side is the most ample opportunity for protection. On either side high land will comfort and guide a sailor almost throughout the passage, and upon the northern shore is the best conceivable arrangement of chances for his rescue from a gale or from the chance of a tide. The deep estuary of the Seine sufficiently cuts off what is west from what is east of it to make every one upon the western side avoid the difficulty of a journey to Calais and seek some approach of his own to reach England; and south-western England is enough of a unity to demand also a secondary port of its own, whence it may seek the shore of the Continent and escape upon favourable occasions the long journey eastward to the Straits. Let us consider these points in detail. The estuary of the Seine was not only an obvious outlet, but it gave an opportunity for the early ships to creep under the protection of a windward shore. From the very heart of the country, from Rouen, and even from Pont de l'Arche, sea-going vessels could go down the stream with a strong tide helping them. They would have calm water as far as the point of Barfleur so long as the wind was south of west, and no danger save the reef of Calvados. Moreover, the trend of the land led them northward in the direction which they knew they had to follow if they were ultimately to find the English coast. When this defence and indication failed the early sailor, at the corner of the Cotentin, where the land turns west again, he could find the little harbour of Barfleur whence to set out; he was there protected from the outer sea by reefs, and possessed, what was important to him, an excellent shore for beaching. He was sheltered even thus far from the prevailing winds. Nor was this all. This coast was backed by bold high land, from three hundred feet near the coast to five hundred further inland, and marks of that kind, valuable as they still are, were a necessity to the early navigator. Such land would guide him home if his adventure failed, and it is worth while noticing, in the case of a man to whom all this was a great adventure, the sense of security with which the high hills upon the horizon furnished him in clear weather. He set out then, and for the first few hours--in theory for close upon twenty-seven miles, and practically for more than twenty of the fifty-three he had to traverse--the French coast was still in sight on such days as could tempt him to cross the sea. Now, by a happy accident, some of the highest land in the south of England stands dominating the narrowest part of this approach from France. Our Downs in Sussex are commonly receded from the sea-coast; from Brighton westward, their slope up from it is gentle, their escarpment is on the further side, and they are often veiled by the reek of the land. All the way from Beachy Head nothing gives a true mark until you get to this high headland of St. Catherine's Point, which overlooks the narrowest part of the passage. One must have sailed across here to know how powerful is that hill. It stands steep up out of the sea, it is twice as high as Beachy Head, more than half as high again as Dover Cliff, and though it is but steep turf and not white chalk, it stands up so against the light looking southward, that one may see it at not much less than thirty miles distance as one runs northward so, with the westerly wind just aft of the beam and making for the land. Even in a haze it will stand above the mist and indicate the shore with its head so lifted as to show quite plain in the clearer sky. All this argument will be evident to those who know what a land-fall means. Even to-day, with the compass and the chart, it is the method of all our fishermen in the narrow seas to make some light or foreland, rather than to lay down a course; the violence and the changes of the channel current make it a surer method than any reckoning. In the first days a land-fall was everything. Every memory or relic of primitive navigation shows it a feeling-out for the high, conspicuous blue cloud, which, when you have fixed it once above the horizon, stands permanent and constant, turning at last into no cloud, but an evidence of human things after the emptiness of the sea. The high land then, of itself, all but bridged the gap. In pure theory one might just catch sight of a fire on the top of St. Catherine's before one had seen the last of a similar flare upon the hills of the Cotentin, and in actual practice, in clear weather, it is but a very short run of fifteen miles or so from the last sight of the French coast to the making of St. Catherine's upon the horizon before one. These considerations, then, the guide and protection of the Cotentin coast, the inlet of the Seine, the narrowing of the sea, the high land upon either side, would of themselves suffice to point this passage out as a natural way from the Continent to England. Were a man asked to-day where he would rather cross west of Etaples, he would answer, I think, 'from Cherbourg to the Wight'; and very many times, before writing was known or a record kept, men must have run easily through a long summer day, taking it in two tides, losing the land for but a quarter of their voyage, and confident that if evening overtook them, a beacon on St. Catherine's would light the northern horizon, even though half their journey remained to do. I say this alone would prove the age of the route, but there is something which clinches the argument, and that is what we saw to be so important in the case of Kent--'The Choice of Entry.' How the tides of the narrow seas and the uncertain winds made imperative a choice of entries to the land I have already shown in my discussion of the Straits, and I need not repeat my arguments. It is enough to remark that in this case of the Second Crossing, conscious human design could hardly have improved the conditions afforded by the Wight. Behind it is a vast sheltered sheet of water, in shape a tripod, one of the arms of which, five miles in length by nearly one in breadth, is absolutely landlocked and safe in all weathers, while the other two are so commonly smooth and so well provided with refuge at Yarmouth, Lymington, New Town, the Medina, Portsmouth, and the Hamble as to form a kind of large harbour with subsidiary harbours attached. To this great refuge two entries are provided, each aided by a strong tide, each narrow enough to break the outer sea, but not so narrow as to present grave dangers to small craft. Supposing a man approaching St. Catherines's Point from the south. The wind fails him, and he is compelled by the tide to drift to the east or to the west; at an equal distance from the point either way he will find an entry into the inland water. Suppose a sudden change in the direction of the wind or in its intensity makes him run before it, from any direction but that of the north (which in itself would provide him with a windward shore) he could make one of the two entries of which I speak. It is true that a nasty shelf and overfalls follow a portion of the shore opposite Ventnor, but, like the reefs of the Cotentin, they do not run so far out as to affect my argument. There are hardly any conditions under which, after his passage from the Continent, the early sailor would have found it impossible to make either the Needles channel or Spithead. It is a perfect harbour, and though it has but lately recovered its ancient importance, the inland waters, known as the Solent, Southampton Water, and Spithead were certainly, after the Straits, the chief landing-places of these islands. Porchester, Brading, Cowes perhaps, and Bittern certainly, show what the Romans made of the opportunity. All the recorded history of England is full of that group of harbours and that little inland sea, and before history began, to strike the island here was to be nearest to Salisbury Plain and to find the cross-roads of all the British communications close at hand; the tracks to the east, to the west, to the Midlands were all equally accessible. Finally, it must be noted that the deepest invasion of the land made here is made by the submerged valley of Southampton Water, and the continuation of that valley inward is the valley of the Itchen. The inland town to which the port corresponded (just as we found Canterbury corresponding to the Kentish harbours) is Winchester. Thus it was that Winchester grew to be the most important place in south England. How early we do not know, but certainly deeper than even tradition or popular song can go it gathered round itself the first functions of leadership. It was possessed of a sanctity which it has not wholly lost. It preserves, from its very decay, a full suggestion of its limitless age. Its trees, its plan, and the accent of the spoken language in its streets are old. It maintains the irregularities and accretions in building which are, as it were, the outer shell of antiquity in a city. Its parallels in Europe can hardly show so complete a conservation. Rheims is a great and wealthy town. The Gaulish shrine of 'the Virgin that should bear a Son' still supports from beneath the ground the high altar of Chartres. The sacred well of a forgotten heathendom still supports with its roof the choir of Winchester.[1] But Chartres is alive, the same woman is still worshipped there; the memory of Winchester is held close in a rigidity of frost which keeps intact the very details of the time in which it died. It was yielding to London before the twelfth century closed, and it is still half barbaric, still Norman in its general note. The spires of the true Middle Ages never rose in it. The ogive, though it is present, does not illumine the long low weight of the great church. It is as though the light of the thirteenth century had never shone upon or relieved it. It belongs to the snow, to winter, and to the bare trees of the cold wherein the rooks still cry 'Cras! cras!' to whatever lingers in the town. So I saw it when I was to begin the journey of which I write in these pages. To return to the origins. The site of Winchester, I say, before ever our legends arose, had all the characters which kept it vigorous to within seven hundred years of our own time. It was central, it held the key to the only good middle passage the Channel afforded, it was destined to be a capital. From Winchester therefore a road must necessarily have set out to join what had been, even before the rise of Winchester, the old eastern and western road; this old road it would join by a slow approach, and merge with it at last and seek Canterbury as a goal. The way by which men leaving Winchester would have made for the Straits may have been, at first, a direct path leading northwards towards the point where the old east-and-west road came nearest to that city. For in the transformation of communication it is always so: we see it in our modern railway lines, and in the lanes that lead from new houses to the highways: the first effort is to find the established road, the 'guide,' as soon as possible. Later attempts were made at a short cut. Perhaps the second attempt was to go somewhat eastward, towards what the Romans called Calleva, and the Roman road from Winchester to Calleva (or Silchester) may have taken for its basis some such British track. But at any rate, the gradual experience of travel ended in the shortest cut that could be found. The tributary road from Winchester went at last well to the east, and did not join the original track till it reached Farnham. [Illustration] This short cut, feeder, or tributary which ultimately formed the western end of our Road was driven into a channel which attracted it to Farnham almost as clearly as the chalk hills of which I have spoken pointed out the remainder of the way: for two river valleys, that of the Itchen and that of the Wey led straight to that town and to the beginning of the hill-platform. [Illustration: GLIMPSES OF THE ITCHEN AWAY BEHIND US _See page 133_] It is the universal method of communication between neighbouring centres on either side of a watershed to follow, if they exist, two streams; one leading up to and the other down from the watershed. This method provides food and drink upon the way, it reduces all climbing to the one clamber over the saddle of the ridge, and, if the beginning of the path is struck out by doubtful pioneers, then, as every pioneer in a new country knows, ascending a stream is the best guide to a pass and descending one on the further side is the best guide to open spaces, and to the habitations of men. [Illustration] This tributary gradually superseded the western end of the trail, and the Old Road from the west to the east, from the metal mines to the Straits of Dover, had at last Winchester for an origin and Canterbury for a goal. The neglected western end from Farnham to Stonehenge became called 'The Harrow Way,' that is the 'Hoar,' the 'Ancient' way.[2] It fell into disuse, and is now hardly to be recognised at all. The prehistoric road as we know it went then at last in a great flat curve from Winchester to Canterbury, following the simplest opportunities nature afforded. It went eastward, first up the vale of the Itchen to the watershed, then down the vale of the Wey, and shortly after Farnham struck the range of the North Downs, to which it continued to cling as far as the valley of the Stour, where a short addition led it on to Canterbury. Its general direction, therefore, when it had settled down into its final form, was something of this sort:-- [Illustration] When Winchester began to affirm itself as the necessary centre of south England--that is of open, rich, populated, and cultivated England--the new tributary road would rapidly grow in importance; and finally, the main traffic from the western hills and from much of the sea also, from Spain, from Brittany, and from western Normandy, probably from all southern Ireland, from the Mendips, the south of Wales, and the Cornish peninsula, would be canalised through Winchester. The road from Winchester to Farnham and so to Canterbury would take an increasing traffic, would become the main artery between the west and the Straits of Dover, and would leave the most permanent memorials of its service. * * * * * Winchester and Canterbury being thus each formed by the sea, and each by similar conditions in the action of that sea, the parallel between them can be drawn to a considerable length, and will prove of the greatest value when we come to examine the attitude of the Old Road towards the two cities which it connects. The feature that puzzles us in the approach to Canterbury may be explained by a reference to Winchester. An unsolved problem at the Winchester end may be referred for its solution to Canterbury, and the evidence of the two combined will be sufficient to convince us that the characters they possess in common are due to much more than accident. Of all the sites which might have achieved some special position after the official machinery of Rome with its arbitrary power of choice had disappeared, these two rose pre-eminent at the very entry to the Dark Ages, and retained that dual pre-eminence until the great transition into the light, the Renaissance of civilisation at the end of the twelfth century and the beginning of the thirteenth. For six or seven hundred years the two towns were the peculiar centres of English life. Winchester was a capital longer than London has been; Canterbury ruled the religion of this island for over nine hundred and forty years. So much we know for certain, and more may be presumed; but I have conjectured that these sites were of equal importance before the advent of Rome, and such a conjecture needs support. I will maintain that the barbaric centuries which followed the decline of the Empire reproduced in Britain original conditions, and restored their value to sites neglected during the period of Roman order. Rome, in this frontier province, put her capital in the north, at York, and her principal garrisons in the north also; but even though she did not at first admit their importance, Canterbury and Winchester, with London, insensibly preponderated: London, through which half the roads are marked in the itinerary; Canterbury and Winchester whence, to this day, great Roman roads may be discovered radiating like the spokes of a wheel. That the importance of these sites should have increased with the increasing barbarism of the Dark Ages is, I repeat, an evidence of their great antiquity. The arbitrary and official forces of society had disappeared. An ancient sanctity beyond history, the track of hunters, the ford, the open hillside, chance opportunities of defence, soil, food, water, all the primal things which determine the settlements of savages, were again at work in the fifth century. The force of merely natural tendencies increased as the consciousness of civilisation faded, and when after the defeat of the pagans in the ninth century Christendom had just been saved and the light slowly began to grow, these forces remained (though with gradually diminishing power) and moulded Europe until the Angevine and the Capetian, the reinvigorated Papacy, the adventure of the Crusades, and the study of the Code, had created once more the fixity of a true civilisation: a civilisation whose institutions and philosophy are our own to-day. What, then, are the common attributes which we can note in Winchester and Canterbury, which would have drawn savage men to their sites, which therefore give them their tradition, and from which we can induce the causes of their rival power? Each is near the sea, each near a port or ports; in the case of each, this port, or group of ports, commands one of the two passages to the Continent, and to the homes of civilised men. In each case the distance from the sea is that of a day's march for an army with its baggage. Disembark your men at Southampton or at Dover with the dawn and you hope that night to rest secure behind the walls of Winchester or Canterbury. The reason of this arrangement was as follows: an inland place has many advantages over a fortified town on the seashore as the resting-place of an army. It has a better food supply; communication from it radiates upon all sides, not only from half its circumference (indeed in many ports there is but one narrow exit along the isthmus of the peninsula or up the valley which forms its harbour). There is likely to be more wood, a matter of great importance for fuel and fortification and sometimes for the construction of engines of war; it will have more fresh water. It may not be a salient, but it is an important, fact that in early times the population of an inland place would be trained for fighting upon land, and its energies would not be divided by the occupation of sea-faring; and finally, your inland fortress is liable to but one form of attack. You may have landed your men after a successful voyage, but, on the other hand, you may have landed them after a hot pursuit. In the first case it is not a disadvantage to sleep the night sheltered by walls inland, and in the second case it is a necessity. Remembering all these things, it is evident that to have your town of refuge within a day's march of the landing-place is a condition of its value to you. It is far preferable to reach fortification within the daylight than to pass your first halt under the strain of partial and temporary defence. Winchester and Canterbury are each, of course, upon rivers. They are each upon rivers just above the limit to which the tide would help light-draught, primitive boats, and where yet they could enjoy the fresh water coming down from above. So Caen, so Norwich, and a hundred other cities, have been founded upon rivers a day's march inland from port, and (with the exception of the tide) similar conditions perhaps produced the greatest of all these examples--Rome. The similarity of the rivers is also remarkable: each of such a size that it can be canalised for traffic above the city, and yet used to turn mills; each supplying industries that depend upon water, especially brewing and tanning; each divided for such a purpose into a number of small regular trenches which flow along the lower streets of the city--an arrangement only possible where a flat site has been chosen--the Itchen, tumbling along the eastern boundary of Winchester, and the Stour, on the northern gate of Canterbury, complete a parallel almost as strong as that of the cities which stand upon them. They are of much the same length, depth, rapidity of stream, and volume of water. They flow very clear--running over the chalk, clean and potable streams. At a point where each cuts through a range of hills, a point somewhat below the last ancient ford, and just barely above the recorded limit of the tide, a point right on the valley floor where the hills recede somewhat, each bears its city. Of both towns we are certain that they were prehistoric centres. Not only have the earliest implements of men been discovered in their soil, but it is evident that the prehistoric mode of defence in these islands was used by each--a camp or temporary refuge crowning the hill above the settlement and defended by great circumvallations of earth. Canterbury has the camp in Bigberry Wood; Winchester that upon St. Catherine's Hill. In each town a considerable British population existed before the Roman invasion. In each the coins of British kings struck under the influence of Greek commerce, a century to a century and a half before the Christian era, are to be discovered. The name of each has a British root when it first appears in British history. Canterbury, Durovernum, was the town upon the river bank; and Winchester still preserves the trace of such an origin: the 'Venta' of the Romans: the Celtic 'Gwent'--an open space. Each was Roman; each occupied much the same area; from each radiated a scheme of Roman roads; upon each the history of Roman Britain is silent; each first appears recorded in the story of the pirate invasions and of the conversion of England after the dissolution of the Imperial scheme. Such were the two towns which answered each other like peaks over the rich belt of south England. The one the king's town, the other the primate's; the political and the ecclesiastical capitals of all those natural and dark centuries. By a division common to the history of our ancestors in all parts of Europe, one fell naturally to the Court, the other to the Church. The king in Winchester, the primate in Canterbury, 'like two strong oxen pulled the plough of England.' And each, as was necessary to the period, had its great tomb, but not at the same time. Winchester, the capital, had in the Dark Ages its lamp of sanctity. In the Middle Ages this focus moved to the east--to Canterbury. There could be no rivalry. Winchester created its own saint, St. Swithin, with the murder of à Becket Canterbury put out the light of Winchester and carried on the tradition of a shrine; from that time onwards Winchester declines, while Canterbury survives chiefly as the city of St. Thomas. FOOTNOTES: [1] The sacredness of wells is commingled all through Christendom with that of altars. As, for instance, the wells in the cathedrals of Chartres, of Nimes, of Sangres, and in St. Nicholas of Bari. In Notre Dame at Poissy, in St. Eutropius at Santes (a Roman well), in the Augustinian chapel at Avignon (now a barracks). In Notre Dame at Etampes there are three wells. There is a well in St. Martin of Tours, in the Abbey of Jobbes, in the Church of Gamache. Our Lady of the Smithies at Orleans (now pulled down) had a well into which Ebroin threw St. Leger, the Bishop; and close by at Patay there is one in St. Sigismund's into which Chlodomir threw some one or other. Old Vendée is full of such sacred wells. The parish church of Praebecq has one, of Perique, of Challans (filled up in fourteenth century). At Cheffoi you can see one in full use, right before the high altar and adorned with a sculpture of the woman at the well--and this is but a short and random list. [2] See upon this abandoned portion Mr. Shore's article in the third volume of the _Archæological Review_. THE CAUSES OF THE PRESERVATION OF THE OLD ROAD; ITS GENERAL CHARACTER, AND OUR APPLICATION OF THIS IN OUR METHOD OF RECOVERING IT We can regard Winchester, then, and Canterbury, as the point of departure and the termination of the Old Road. We can be certain that it would lie along the upper valleys of the Itchen and the Wey until it struck the Hog's Back, and that thenceforward it would follow the southern slope of the North Downs until these are cut by the river Stour. From that point the last few miles to Canterbury would naturally run parallel with, and in the valley of, the little Kentish river. But the task which is attempted in this book is more definite than such a general scheme would convey. Many portions of the Old Road have been preserved, many more have been recovered and mapped by the researches of antiquarians; the remaining gaps alone was it our care to explore and settle, until we should, if possible, have reconstituted the whole ancient way, yard for yard, from the capital of Hampshire to the capital of Kent. That was our business, and in order that the reader may follow the more clearly my account of our journey I shall, before beginning that account, set down here, at the end of the present essay, the difficulty which the task presented, how we were aided by certain causes which had conspired to preserve the Old Road, what those causes were, and finally what method we applied to the problem that lay before us. All archæological research must necessarily repose upon evidence less firm than that of true history, yet a great part of it deals with things lying right to hand. A barrow is an unmistakable thing. You open it and you find a tomb. Whatever may be said of paleolithic man, neolithic man has left the most enduring and indubitable evidence. He worked in the most resisting of materials, and he worked well. A Roman road is a definite thing. Its known dimensions are a guide for our research: the known rules of the Roman engineers. The strata of material, often the embankment, remain. Its long alignments have but to be recovered in a couple of points to establish its direction through a considerable stretch of country. Did a man but know the ridge over Gumber Corner and down Bignor Hill, the Billingshurst Road, the hard foundations through Dorking Churchyard, it would be enough to make him certain of the Stane Street. But of all the relics of antiquity the prehistoric road is the most difficult to establish. These old tracks, British, and (if the word has any meaning) pre-British, though they must abound in the island, have become most difficult to reconstitute. The wild, half-instinctive trail of men who had but just taken on humanity: later a known and common track, but a track still in the hands of savages for countless generations, a road of this kind is preserved by nothing stronger than habit. No mathematical calculation presided at its origin, none can therefore be used to reconstruct it when it has been lost. When (as in the last phase of the road which is the subject of this book) religion may have prolonged its use into historic times, that influence is capable indeed of perpetuating a tradition; but though religion maintains a shrine or a legend it does not add those consistent records of material works which are the best guide for the research of posterity. The Old Road was not paved; it was not embanked. Wherever the plough has crossed it during the last four hundred years, the mark of it is lost. From the clay it has often disappeared: from marshy soil, always. On the chalk alone has it preserved an unmistakable outline. Nor can it be doubted that it would have vanished as completely as have so many similar roads upon the Continent and in our own Midlands, had it not been for one general, and three particular, influences which, between them, have preserved a proportion of it sufficient to serve as a basis for the exploration of the remainder. The general influence was that political sequence by which England has developed a peculiar power for retaining the evidences of her remote past. The three particular influences were, first, the Canterbury pilgrimage; secondly, the establishment of a system of turnpikes in the eighteenth century; thirdly, and most important of all, the chalk. Consider first the general influence: the effect of English society upon this matter. This little district of the world is a very museum of such primitive things as lie at the basis of society: of such immaterial things as our existing relics of barbaric polity: of such material things as early systems of defence, the tombs of various forgotten races, the first instruments of iron, bronze and stone; and of my own subject here, the primeval track-ways, in what way has our political history helped to preserve them? The Empire held this province sufficiently to preserve, but not so thoroughly as to destroy. The districts bounded but untraversed by the great military roads which fed the frontier garrisons must have been left in part autonomous; forbidden indeed to disturb the peace, but not transformed by an ubiquitous administration. Flourishing as were the very numerous towns, and large as their combined populations must have been, they seem to have remained to the end an archipelago surrounded as it were by a sea of forest and heath, wherein could be found a thin but permanent population, preserving its own language and its tribal system, in touch with the unconquered tribes beyond the Grampians and the Irish Sea, and remaining to the end but half-impressed with the stamp of Latin government. The picture is but general; exceptions are numerous. Roman estates were cultivated peacefully far from the towns, and certainly nothing dangerous to the ruling man could befall him in the half-conquered tracts of which I speak; but in the rough the picture is true. Now such a state of things would have among other results this: that it would not destroy the habits of the barbarians, it would crystallise them. Under such conditions a great activity and wealth accentuated the use of a hundred pre-Roman things. The prosperity which the barbarians enjoyed, the markets in the towns which they must have frequented, would multiply their ancient instruments and would put to a continual use their native trails; and these, as I have pointed out, were not to any great extent overlaid by or forgotten in the new civilisation. Whatever Gaulish track may have led from Paris to Orleans (and it is historically certain that such a trail did run through the woods to the south of Lutetia), or whatever old track-way was carried along the north of the Apennines, both have wholly disappeared. The great straight causeway of Rome cutting across the Beauce has killed the one, the �milian Way the other. So it is throughout nearly all the land which Rome developed, with the exception of this province; here the fragments of a score of British track-ways survive. When the Empire fell the nature of our decline equally preserved our past. Alone of the Roman provinces the eastern half of Britain was really ruined. It had been exposed for two centuries to the attacks of pirates who came from the unconquered and inexhaustible north. Remote, an Island, impoverished, the first of the frontiers to be abandoned, it was at last overwhelmed: to what extent we can only guess, and in what manner we cannot tell at all, but at any rate with sufficient completeness to make us alone lose the Faith which is the chief bond of civilisation. The interval was short. There is still some glimmering of light in the middle of the fifth century. In little more than a hundred years communication was reestablished with the Continent, and before the sixth century had closed St. Augustine had landed. The anarchy had covered a gap no greater than the interval which separates us from the Declaration of Independence, but it had been sufficient to restore to the island the atmosphere of barbarism. There was no Palace, nor any such central authority as everywhere else maintained in the provinces the main traditions of Rome. In the west a medley of Celtic, in the east a confusion of Teutonic dialects had drowned the common medium of thought. Religion itself when it returned was coloured by the simplicity and folly of the ruin. In the west the unity of Christendom was hardly comprehended, in the east the town of Rome became for the Anglo-Saxons the subject of a sort of idolatry. Letters, geography, common history, glass, and the use of half the metals were forgotten. Not till the Latin re-conquest in the eleventh century was the evil overcome and an organisation at last regained. But this catastrophe, deplorable as it still remains to history, has proved of the highest value to antiquarians. It produced indeed fantastic legends, stories of the landing of the Horse and the Mare, of Cerdic, Port, Cymric and Wightgar, which have disturbed our national tradition, and which an ignorant bias has credited almost to our own day: alone, therefore, of Western nations have we suffered a real gap in our national story. On the other hand, this gap re-created, as I have pointed out in a former page, those conditions under which the primitive values of hill, wood, marsh, and river reappeared. The sight of such and such a group of ancient habitations, the meaning to unprotected men of such and such a physical opportunity for defence, in a word, all the influence which topography could exercise on the rudest and most remote of our ancestors, grew real again in the welter and breakdown which we call the Anglo-Saxon period. The artifice and clear creative power of the Mediterranean races was gone: it has never wholly returned to these shores; and what this time chose for the building of cities or the use of roads or of places for defence, is ever an excellent indication of what men had also done long before the Romans came. How our past has further been preserved by the shape and moulding of the land I shall describe more fully in a further page. There remain to be mentioned two political forces equally conservative. The first is that species of lethargy and contempt which has forbidden us, as it has forbidden every other aristocratic community, to destroy the vestiges of its past. The second is a power more especial but closely allied to this, I mean the influence of the few great owners of the soil. Whatever results of disorder and of public apathy may proceed from the constitution of this class, and whatever historical learning may have suffered from its power over the universities, prehistoric research has secured from it the greatest advantage, for the landlords of our villages have maintained the antiquities of their manors with the force of a religion. The first barrow to be opened in England was examined by the orders of a great landlord; the fine discoveries of Titsey Park were directly due to the initiative of its owner, the inheritor of Gresham's land. Albury preserves and dignifies one of the critical portions of the Old Road; Eastwell another--and these are but a few of the many that might be cited from this one track-way alone. We may sum up and say that the political development of England has, in a general fashion, preserved antiquity, and that we owe to it very largely the survival of such relics as the Old Road. But those particular causes, which have already been mentioned, exercised a more powerful influence: the first of these was the Great Pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury, which arose immediately after his murder in 1174. To appreciate what that pilgrimage did for the preservation of the Old Road one must grasp the twelfth century. From just before its opening till a generation after its close, from the final conquests of the Normans to the reign of St. Louis, from the organising plan of Gregory VII. to the domination of Innocent III., from the first doubts of the barbaric schools to the united system of the Summa, from the first troubled raising of the round arch in tiers that attempted the effect of height to the full revelation of Notre Dame--in that 120 years or more moved a process such as even our own time has not seen. It was an upheaval like that by which, in the beginnings of terrestrial life, the huge and dull sea-monsters first took to the keen air of the land. Everything was in the turmoil which the few historians who have seen the vision of this thing have called, some an anarchy, and others a brief interlude of liberty in the politics of Europe. It was neither one nor the other: it was the travail of a birth. When this young life was once started in the boiling energies of the Crusades:--young Louis VI. the fighter, St. Bernard, the man that would put all into order, young Abelard, who again, after so many silent centuries, began to answer the riddle of the sphinx--when this argosy of youth was launched, the first task of the Church was to attempt to steer it. We know that the Church succeeded, as she succeeded in saving all that could be saved of the Mediterranean civilisation when the Roman Empire bowed, and all that could be saved of our common moral tradition when, after the terrors of the fifteenth century, Europe of the sixteenth threatened to fall into dust. In the twelfth century the Church captured and rode the new energies, but in that storm of creation a very great deal went down. How much we do not know. It is probable that Rome was still Roman until the Normans sacked it at the beginning of this era. It is certain that the walls surrounding our English cities and those of the northern French and the western Germans were unchanged since the Pagan time, until the expansion of the twelfth century came to break them. I say what relics of primeval learning, what verbal inheritance of primeval experience, were lost in the new violence of Europe, cannot be known. It is enough for us that the essence of civilisation was saved; that if we let go the history of the tribal past with one hand we at least beat off Asia with the other; that if the Romanesque gave up its last spark in that gale, at least the Gothic replaced it. For the purpose of this book one great loss must be noted: most of the prehistoric roads disappeared. The unity of Europe, a thing hitherto highly conscious, fully existent, but inactive like the soul of a man in a reverie, sprang into expression and permeated outward things. Men travelled. Inter-communication became within fifty years from a pastime a habit, and from a habit a necessity. Not only the Crusades had done this, but something anterior, some passion for new horizons, which of itself had helped to produce the Crusades. The orders and appeals of a united Church began to circulate throughout Christendom. The universities had arisen, and were visited almost as nomads would visit them: the students crowding now Bologna, now Salerno, now Oxford, and fixing themselves at last, like a swarm of bees, in Paris. The Benedictines had already sketched the idea of the representative system--it was beginning to invade political life. The justice of the central kings went touring on assize. Some say that the cathedral builders themselves were like the soul of Europe wandering from place to place. With all this the cross-roads developed. Every little village was linked up with every other; the main vague ways, older than history, which joined not even towns directly, but followed only the dry and open of the high lands, necessarily decayed. Some few kept their place. The Watling Street was a necessity; it led from the Straits of Dover to London, and from London to the corner which is the triple gate to Ireland, to Wales and to Strathclyde--the only road by which you can outflank Snowdon if you are going west, the Pennines if you are going west and north. It is still, on the whole, the line of our principal railway. But the Fosse Way began to lose its meaning. The Ermine Street maintained some eminence, for Lincoln was a great town, but the Icknield Way fell into broader and broader gaps. A man would with difficulty discover that the Stane Street was still used. The road of which this book treats would have disappeared more certainly than any of these. Winchester was decaying (for England was now quite united, and the north counted in a way), London was becoming more and more--for with intercommunication commerce was arising, and with the harsh efforts of the German against the eastern heathen the Baltic was acquiring a civilisation; with travel the sea was becoming familiar to others than to pirates, and with the sea the port was growing in position--London was becoming more and more, and was already almost the capital of England. Henry II. was perhaps the last king who thought of Winchester as his chief town. London was to overawe his son; his great-grandson was to make Westminster the centre of the constitution. From Southampton to London the road would remain; the roads from London to Canterbury and to the ports of Kent would grow in importance; but our road, the base of that triangle, would necessarily have decayed: there was less traffic than ever before from west to east, from the Mendips and Cornwall to the Straits. The metals of the Devonian peninsula, and of the Severn valley had lost their economic position, the iron of the Sussex Weald had taken their place. The expeditions to Ireland and the new Scottish problem had removed to Chester and to Lancaster the centres of strategical importance; the same commerce which was giving London its hegemony--I mean the commerce of the Baltic and the North Sea--was developing Orford and King's Lynn, and all East Anglia, and, to a lesser degree, the Humber. The Germanic states had spread so eastward as to draw the life of Gaul also eastward, and to bleed its western promontory; the crossing of the sea between the Cornwalls had lost its old political importance: all combined to kill Winchester, and with Winchester the road from that old capital to Canterbury, when an accident came to preserve that way. This accident was the murder of Thomas à Becket. I will not deny that an effect always mingles with its cause; for things that happen are realities, whereas time is not real at all. Not only does the saint make the shrine, but the shrine also the saint. A saint must have come to Canterbury. A primeval site will sooner or later bring to fruit a primeval sacredness. But a study of this kind cannot lose itself in such mysteries. It must confine itself to definite history. In that moment, when the spiritual vision of Europe was at its keenest, when stone itself was to be moulded like clay by the intense vision of things beyond the world, when Suger had conceived the pointed arch at St. Denis, and the gem upon St. Michael's Hill was being cut into its facets, when the Church was most determined to fashion the new world, and to give it a philosophy, and when that task was at its most difficult, from the necessary quarrel between the Soul and the State: that is, between things eternal, personal, inward, and things civic, communal--when the world was fully engaged in such a tangle outward, and the nerves of men, citizens and Christians, were wrought as are those of antagonists in a wrestling match, there fell this blow. For the first time in all these centuries (and at what a time) violence, our modern method, attempted to cut the knot. At once, and as it always must, fool violence produced the opposite of what it had desired. All the West suddenly began to stream to Canterbury, and à Becket's tomb became, after Rome, the chief shrine of Christendom. Ireland of the saints, South Wales still tribal, still in a way unfixed, lending its population to far adventures and to the attraction of distant places, all the south-western peninsula of England, Brittany for ever mystic, the mountain masses of the Asturias which had themselves preserved an original sanctity, the western ports from Vigo to recently conquered Lisbon--the only ports by which the Christian enthusiasm of the Spaniards conquering Islam could take to the newly opened sea and to the north--all these sent their hordes to converge on Winchester, and thence to find their way to Canterbury. The whole year came at last to see the passing and re-passing of such men. It was on the 29th of December that St. Thomas had been struck down. For fifty years his feast had been kept upon that day, and for fifty years the damp English winter had grudged its uneasy soil to the pilgrims: the same weather in which we ourselves traversed it during the journey of exploration which is the subject of this work. With the jubilee the body was translated in the flush of early summer, and the date of this translation (the 7th of July) became the new and more convenient day upon which Canterbury was most sought. But the habit of such a journey had now grown so general that every season saw some example of it. The spring, as we know from Chaucer, the winter as we know from the traditional dates preserved upon the Continent, the summer as we know from the date of the chief gatherings: and there must have been a constant return past the stubble and the new plough of the autumn. It was not only the directness of the Old Road between Winchester and Canterbury that reconstituted its use for the purpose of these pilgrimages: it was also that peculiar association of antiquity and of religion which mingles the two ideas almost into one thing. The pilgrim set out from Winchester: 'You must pass by that well,' he heard, 'it is sacred.' ... 'You must, of ritual, climb that isolated hill which you see against the sky. The spirits haunted it and were banished by the faith, and they say that martyrs died there.' ... 'It is at the peril of the pilgrimage that you neglect this stone, whose virtue saved our fathers in the great battle.' ... 'The church you will next see upon your way is entered from the southern porch sunward by all truly devout men; such has been the custom here since custom began.' From step to step the pilgrims were compelled to take the oldest of paths. The same force of antique usage and affection which, in a past beyond all record, had lent their meaning to rocks and springs upon a public way, re-flourished; and once again, to the great pleasure of myself who write of it now, and of all my readers who love to see tradition destroying calculated things, the momentum of generations overcame. The pilgrimage saved the road. But once started it developed new sanctities of its own, as a tree transplanted will strike roots and take a bend this way or that different from the exact intention of the gardener. In the main it did nothing but preserve the immemorial sites: the cliff above the river Wey, the lonely peaked hill of St. Martha's that answers it from beyond the stream, the cross-roads on the crest of the Downs above Reigate, the ford of the Medway, the entry into the valley of the Stour, it transformed and fixed as Christian things. Our remote ancestry was baptized again, and that good habit of the faith, whereby it refuses to break with any chain of human development, marked and retained for history the oldest things. Upon that rock St. Catherine's was built, upon that hill the Martyrs' Chapel; twin churches in line pointed to the ford of the Medway, the old and dim great battle of the valley was dominated not only by the rude monuments of those who had fallen in it, but by the abbey of Boxley. Charing worshipped the block on which the Baptist had suffered, and the church of Chilham rose on the flank of the hills which had first disputed the invasion of the Romans. What Canterbury became we know. But this influence, though it was in the main highly conservative, may here and there mislead us. The new civilisation was well settled before the pilgrimage began. The Normans had governed and ordered for a century; the new taxes, the new system of justice, the new central kingship, had been well founded for over a generation. The pilgrims, therefore, at certain places did not need to follow step by step the ancient way. They sometimes fail to find us the prehistoric ford, for many bridges and ferries would exist in their time. They sometimes bend right out of the original path to visit some notable shrine, and there is more than one point where another stream of their fellows, coming from London or from the Channel, joins and tends to confuse the track. The occasions are but rare,[3] and they are noted here only to explain certain conclusions which will follow in the second part of this book. Taking the pilgrimage as a whole it was the chief factor in the preservation of the Old Road. Second in the causes of the survival of the Old Road came the turnpikes. The system of turnpike roads served to perpetuate, and in many cases to revive, the use of the old way when the pilgrimage itself was but very vaguely remembered. The tolls chargeable upon these new and firm roads furnished a very powerful motive for drovers and pack-riders to use an alternative route where such charges would not fall upon them. A similar cause was in operation to preserve 'the Welsh road' in the Midlands, and on this southern way of ours there are places when it was in operation, not indeed within living memory, but within the memory of the parents of those now living. For instance, the road along the summit of the Hog's Back was a better road than the old track which follows the 300-feet contour upon the south side of the hill; but the summit road was a turnpike for many years during which the lower ill-kept lane was free, and hence a track which, since the Reformation, had served only to link up the little villages of Seale and Puttenham was used once more as a thoroughfare between Guildford and Farnham. A new stream had been diverted into the old channel, and this habit of avoiding the turnpike continued till a date so close to our own time as easily to bridge a gap which, but for that diversion, might have proved impassable. It is not without irony that a system whose whole object was to replace by new and more excellent roads the old rough tracks, proved, indirectly, one of the principal sources of their survival. The chalk, the third cause of that survival, is of such importance, and that importance is so commonly neglected, that it almost merits an essay of its own. Consider the various characters which make of this soil the best conceivable medium for the preservation of an ancient road. Like the sandy heaths and rocky uplands through which other primitive trails would naturally lead, it never paid to cultivate and therefore invited the wayfarer who was not permitted to trespass upon tilled land. But unlike other waste soil, it was admirably adapted to retain the trace of his passage. Long usage will wear into chalk a deep impression which marshy land will not retain, and which hard rocky land will never suffer. Compare, for example, the results of continuous travel along certain of the Yorkshire moors with that which will be produced along the Chilterns above the Thames valley. In the first case very marshy land, perpetually changing, alternates with hard rock. Unless some considerable labour were expended, as in the making of a causeway, neither of these would retain any record of the road when once it had fallen into desuetude. But on the chalk some trace would rapidly form, and with every succeeding year would grow more obvious. Chalk is viscous and spongy when it is wet. It is never so marshy as to lose all impression made upon it. It is never so hard as to resist the wearing down of feet and of vehicles. Moreover, those who are acquainted with chalk countries must have noticed how a road is not only naturally cut into the soil by usage, but forms of itself a kind of embankment upon a hillside from the plastic nature of the soil. The platform of the road is pressed outward, and kneaded, so to speak, into an outer escarpment, which would make such a track, for generations after it was abandoned, quite plain along the hillside. Finally, there are, or were until lately, no forces at work to destroy such a record. The chalk was little built upon; it had no occasion to be largely traversed by modern roads; it stood up in steep hills whereon no one would have dreamt of building, until the torture of our modern cities drove men to contrast. How these hills invited, and almost compelled, the primitive traveller to use them has been already described. Once he began to use their soil, better than any other soil in England, it would retain his memory. * * * * * Now since some considerable portion of the Old Road has been preserved, a basis for knowledge is afforded. Patches aggregating in length to just over eighty miles are certain and fixed. It is possible to work from that known thing to the unknown, and the gaps where the Road is lost can be recovered by the consistent pursuit of a certain method; this method when it is described will be seen to lend to a first vague and tentative examination a greater value than it seemed to promise. It permitted us to establish by converging lines of proof so much of what had been lost, that one may now fairly call the full course of the Road established from the north gate of Winchester, whence it originates, to the west gate of Canterbury, which is its goal. A description of our method is a necessary preliminary to that of the journey upon which it was put to the test. The reconstitution of such a road is essentially the filling up of gaps. The task would be impossible if a very large proportion did not remain evident to the eye, or recorded by continuous history. The task would be much more difficult if the gaps in question were of very great length, succeeded by equally long unbroken pieces of the existing road. Luckily, the record or preservation of the Pilgrim's Way has not fallen upon these lines. There is no continuous gap throughout the whole of these 120 miles of greater length than seven miles, and we have in what may be called the 'known portions,' stretches of ten, thirteen, and even fifteen miles, almost unbroken. Moreover, the proportion of the known to the unknown is considerable: 60 per cent. of the total distance of 120 miles is known to 40 per cent. unknown, and it must be understood that throughout this book I speak of those parts as 'known' or 'recognised,' which have been universally admitted since the study of the subject was approached by archæologists. [Illustration] These two facts, the considerable proportion of the known to the unknown, and the absence of any very long stretch in which the Road is lost, facilitate the task in a manner that can be put best graphically by some such little sketch as the preceding, where the dark line is the known portion of the Road. It is evident that the filling up of the gaps is indicated by the general tendency of the rest. There is a mass of other indications besides the mere direction to guide one in one's research; and a congeries of these together make up what I have called the method by which we approached the problem. That method was to collate all the characteristics which could be discovered in the known portions of the Road, and to apply these to the search for traces of the lost portion. Supporting such a method there are the _a priori_ arguments drawn from geographical and geological conditions. There are place-names which point out, though only faintly, the history of a village site. There is the analogy of trails as they exist in savage countries at the present day. There is the analogy of other portions of prehistoric tracks which still exist in Britain. All these confirm or weaken a conclusion, but still the most important arguments are found in the characteristics which can be discovered in the known portions of the Road, and which may be presumed, in the absence of contradictory evidence, to attach to the lost portions also. When a gap was reached, it was necessary to form an hypothesis to guide one in one's next step, and such an hypothesis could best be formed upon a comparison of all these various kinds of knowledge. The indication afforded by any one of them would, as a rule, be slight, but the convergence of a number of such indications would commonly convey a very strong presumption in favour of some particular track. It was then our business to seek for some remaining evidences, apparent to the eye, whereby the track could be recovered. Such evidences were the well-known fact that a line of very old yews will often mark such a road where it lies upon the chalk; the alignment of some short path with a known portion behind, and a known portion before one; while, of course, the presence of a ridge or platform upon such an alignment we regarded (in the absence of any other lane) as the best guide for our search. Occasionally, the method by which we brought our conjecture to the test had to be applied to another kind of difficulty, and a choice had to be made between two alternative tracks, each clear and each with something in its favour; in one or two short and rare examples, the Road very plainly went one way, when by every analogy and experience of its general course it should have gone another. But, take the problem as a whole, whether applied to the commonest example, that of forming an hypothesis and then finding whether it could be sustained, or to the most exceptional (as where we found the Road making straight for a point in a river where there was no ford), the general method was always the same: to consider the geographical and geological conditions, the analogy of existing trails of the same sort, the characters we had found in the Road itself throughout its length as our research advanced, and to apply these to the parts where we were in doubt. The number of 'habits,' if I may so call them, which the Road betrayed, was much larger than would at first have appeared probable, and that we could discover them was in the main the cause of our success, as the reader will see when I come to the relation of the various steps by which we reconstituted, as I hope, the whole of the trail. The principal characteristics or 'habits' are as follows:-- I. The Road never turns a sharp corner save under such necessity as is presented by a precipitous rock or a sudden bend in a river. In this it does precisely what all savage trails do to-day, in the absence of cultivated land. When you have a vague open space to walk through at your choice you have no reason for not going straight on. We found but one apparent exception to this rule in the whole distance: that at the entry to Puttenham; and this exception is due to a recent piece of cultivation.[4] This alignment, however, is not rigid--nothing primitive ever is--the Road was never an absolutely straight line, as a Roman road will be, but it was always direct. II. The Road always keeps to the southern slope, where it clings to the hills, and to the northern bank (_i.e._ the southward slope) of a stream. The reason of this is obvious; the slope which looks south is dry. There are but four exceptions to this rule between Winchester and Canterbury, and none of the four are so much as a mile in length.[5] III. The road does not climb higher than it needs to. It is important to insist upon this point, because there is nothing commoner than the statement that our prehistoric roads commonly follow the very tops of the hills. The reason usually given for this statement is, that the tops of the hills were the safest places. One could not be ambushed or rushed from above. But the condition of fear is not the only state of mind in which men live, nor does military necessity, when it arises, force a laden caravan to the labour of reaching and following a high crest. The difficulty can be met by a flanking party following the top of the ridge whose lower slope is the platform for the regular road. In this way the advantage of security is combined with the equally obvious advantage of not taking more trouble than you are compelled to take. There are several excellent examples of the flanking road on this way to Canterbury, notably the ridge-way along the Hog's Back,[6] which has become the modern high-road; but nowhere does the Old Road itself climb to the top of a hill save when it has one of two very obvious reasons: (_a_) the avoidance of a slope too steep to bear the traveller with comfort, or (_b_) the avoidance of the ins and outs presented by a number of projecting ridges. On this account at Colley Hill, before Reigate, and later, above Bletchingly, near Redhill, the Road does climb to the crest: and so it does beyond Boughton Aluph to avoid a very steep ravine. Once on the crest, it will remain there sometimes for a mile or so, especially if by so doing it can take advantage of a descending spur later on: as after Godmersham Park down to Chilham. But, take the Road as a whole, its habit when a convenient southerly bank of hills is present, is to go up some part of the slope only, and there to run along from 50 to 100 feet above the floor of the valley. If it be asked why the earlier traveller should have been at the pains of rising even so much as this, it may be noted that the reason was threefold: it gave the advantage of a view showing what was before one; it put one on the better drained slope where the land would be drier; and it lifted one above the margin of cultivation in later times when men had learned to plough the land. In the particular case of this Road it had the further advantage that it usually put one on the porous chalk and avoided the difficult clay of the lower levels. IV. Wherever the Road goes right up to the site of a church it passes upon the southern side of that site. It is necessary to digress here for a moment upon the archæological importance of these sites. They are but an indication, not a proof, of prehistoric sanctity. It would be impossible to say in what proportion the old churches of these islands stand upon spots of immemorial reverence, but it is certain that a sufficient proportion of them do so stand (the church of Bishopstoke, for instance, upon the site of a Druidical circle), as to afford, when a considerable number are in question, a fair presumption that many of the sites have maintained their meaning from an age long prior to Christianity. Apart from the mass of positive evidence upon this matter, we have our general knowledge upon the methods by which the Faith supplemented, and in part supplanted, older and worse rituals; and there is an impression, which no one who has travelled widely in western Europe will deny, that the church of a place has commonly something about it of the central, the unique, or the isolated in position; characters which cannot wholly be accounted for by the subsequent growth of the community around them. Now, on its way from Winchester to Canterbury, the Old Road passes, not in the mere proximity of, but right up against, thirteen existing or ruined churches. They are, proceeding from west to east, as follows: King's Worthy, Itchen Stoke, Bishop Sutton, Seale, Puttenham, St. Martha's, Shere, Merstham, Titsey, Snodland, Burham, Boughton Aluph, and Chilham.[7] In the case of eight it passes right up against the south porch; in the case of two (Bishop Sutton and Seale) it is compelled to miss them by a few yards. One (St. Martha's) is passed on both sides by a reduplication of the track. One (Chilham) is conjectural, and the last (Shere) is doubtful. [Illustration: THE CHURCH OF SHERE] The habit is the more remarkable from the fact that the Road commonly goes north of a village, and therefore should, unless it had some purpose, commonly go north of all churches. And, indeed, it does pass many churches to the north, but it always leaves them (as at Chevening, Lenham, Charing, and the rest) to one side. It never goes close to their site. The importance of this rule will be apparent when we consider, later on, the spots in which a church stands, or has stood, and where, at the same time, the track is doubtful and has to be determined. V. In crossing a river-valley, the Road makes invariably for the point where spurs of dry ground and rising ground come closest upon either side, and leave the narrowest gap of marshy land between. I note this as a characteristic of the Road, quite apart from the more obvious considerations; such as, that primitive man would seek a ford; that he would seek gravel rather than clay; that he would try to pass as high up a river as possible, and that, other things being equal, he would keep to the general alignment of his path as much as possible in crossing a river. All these are self-evident without the test of experience, but this characteristic of which I speak is one that would not occur to a traveller who had not tested it with his own experience. It is so at the crossing of the Itchen, at the crossing of the Wey, at the crossing of the Mole, at the crossing of the Darent, and, as we shall see, it is useful in giving us a clue towards the much more important crossing of the Medway. VI. Where a hill must be taken, it is taken straight and by the shortest road to the summit, unless that road be too steep for good going. Here one has something to be found all over England where an old, has been superseded by a modern, way. I have an instance in my mind on the main road westward from Tavistock into Cornwall. It is exactly analogous to what the Indian trails in America do to the present day. It is civilisation or increased opportunities--especially the use of wheeled traffic on a large scale--which leads men to curve round a hill or to zig-zag up it. In the course of the Old Road there are not many examples of this. From the nature of the ground which it traverses the hills to be surmounted are few; but when they do come, the knowledge of this habit will lead one always to prefer the straightest of two ways of reaching the summit. VII. A similar tendency causes the Road to seek, as immediately as possible, when it is passing from one valley to another, the saddle of the watershed, if that watershed be high. Of this there is but one example in the Old Road, that near Medstead in Hampshire. It therefore affords us no particular clue in dealing with this road alone, but as we know that the same phenomenon is apparent in the remaining prehistoric tracks, and in existing trails in savage countries throughout the world, it is a valuable clue, as will be seen later in the particular instance of the saddle between the valleys of the Itchen and the Wey. * * * * * Prepared for such a method; having well marked our maps and read what there was to read; having made certain that the exact starting-point was the site of the North Gate at Winchester, and that the first miles went along the right bank of the Itchen, we two went down from town before December ended, choosing our day to correspond exactly with the dates of the first pilgrimage. When noon was long past, we set out from Winchester without any pack or burden to explore the hundred and twenty miles before us, not knowing what we might find, and very eager. FOOTNOTES: [3] The points where the pilgrims obviously left the Old Road are Compton (p. 160) and Burford Bridge (p. 181). They probably left it after Merstham (p. 205) and perhaps after Chilham (p. 271), while they certainly confused the record of the passages of the Wey (p. 165), and perhaps of the Medway (p. 242). As for their supposed excursion into the plain near Oxted (p. 213), I can find no proof of it. The places where other tracks coming in impair the Old Road are on either side of the Mole (p. 181), the Darent (p. 222), and the Medway (p. 237), where, along such river valleys, such tributaries would naturally lead. [4] See note on p. 158. [5] In the case of three--those of Gatton, Arthur's Seat, and Godmersham--an excellent reason can at once be discovered. The Road goes just north of the crest, in order to avoid the long circuit of a jutting-out spur with its re-entrant curve. For that re-entrant curve, it must be remembered, would be worse going, and wetter, than even the short excursion to the north of the crest. In the fourth case, however, where the Road goes to the north for a few hundred yards behind Weston Wood, I can offer no explanation of the cause. It is sufficiently remarkable that in all this great distance there should be but that one true exception to the rule, and a characteristic so universal permits me, I think, to take it for certain in one doubtful place (Chilham) that the Road has followed the sunny side of the slope. [6] There is another, less clear, beyond Titsey, another beyond Chevening, and there are traces of another above Lenham. [7] The 6-inch Ordnance Map would add Albury (see p. 174). THE EXPLORATION OF THE ROAD THE EXPLORATION OF THE ROAD WINCHESTER TO ALTON _Eighteen miles and a half_ Winchester differs from most other towns which the Romans reorganised in that its main streets, the street north and south and the street east and west, do not divide the city into four equal quarters. The point where the two ways cross is close to the western wall, and this peculiar arrangement was probably made by the first conquerors in order to avoid an exit upon the marshy land beside the Itchen; for that river flowed just against the eastern wall of the city. Of the four arms of this cross, the northern, a street always given up to commerce, became, in the later Middle Ages, the Jewry. By a process at first perhaps voluntary, but later legal, the Jews were concentrated into one quarter, a sort of Ghetto. It is to be noticed that in nearly every case these Jewish quarters were in the very thick of a city's life, and (as in the Paris of Philippe le Bel) of far greater value than any other equal area of the city.[8] Something of the kind was present at Winchester. The whole stream of traffic which passed out from the capital to the rest of England went through the lane of the moneylenders, and we may say with certitude that the north gate, the limit of that lane, was the starting-point of the Old Road. The north gate has now disappeared. It lay just south of the grounds now known as North-Gate House. The deflection of the street is comparatively modern; the original exit was undoubtedly (as at Chichester and elsewhere) along the straight line of the Roman road. This passed near the site of the present house, and pointed towards the isolated tree which marks the northern edge of the garden. [Illustration] From this point it has been commonly imagined that the Old Road must have coincided with the modern Hyde Street, and have followed this line as far as the smithy at Headbourne Worthy. Thence it has been supposed to branch off to King's Worthy. From the church of that village onwards through Martyrs' Worthy and Itchen Abbas no one questions but that the modern highway is identical with the Old Road; but I think the original track may be shown to have proceeded not along the modern street, but by an interior curve, following up the Monks' Walk, passing under the modern railway embankment near the arch which is just north of the Itchen bridge, and making thence straight for King's Worthy church, thus leaving Headbourne Worthy on the left, and running as the thick line runs in this sketch-map. The point evidently demands argument, and I will give the arguments upon one side and upon the other, so that the conclusion may recommend itself to my readers. In favour of the first supposition there is this to be said, that the line through Headbourne Worthy carries the road all the way above the levels which may be marshy, avoids the crossing of any stream, and indicates in the continuity of the place-names (the three Worthies)[9] a string of similar sites dating from a similar antiquity. To this consideration may be added that parallel between Canterbury and Winchester which will be found throughout this essay. For at the other end of the road the entry into Canterbury is of a similar kind. The Old Road falls, as we shall see, into Watling Street, a mile before the city, and enters the ecclesiastical capital by a sharp corner, comparable to the sharp corner at Headbourne Worthy in the exit from Winchester. Against all this one can array the following arguments. The Old Road, as the reader has already seen, never during its course turns a sharp corner. It has to do so at Canterbury because it has been following a course upon the north bank of the Stour, the bank opposite from that upon which Canterbury grew; no better opportunity could be afforded for crossing the river than the ferry or bridge which the most primitive of men would have provided as an entry into their township, and such a bridge or ferry would necessarily run at right angles to a path upon the opposite bank. No such necessity exists in this case of the exit from Winchester. The town is on the same bank of the river as the road. Had the Old Road left by the eastern gate, such a corner would have been quite explicable and even necessary, but as a matter of fact it left by the northern. The argument which relies upon the necessity of following the high land is of more value; but that value may be exaggerated. The shorter and more natural track, to which we inclined, though it runs indeed at a lower level, follows the edge of the chalk, and just avoids the marshy alluvial soil of the valley. The objection that it compels a crossing of the little stream, the Bourne, is not so well founded as might be imagined. That stream would indeed have to be crossed, but it would have been crossed under primitive conditions in a much easier fashion than under modern. Its depth and regularity at the present day are the result of artifice, it runs at an unnatural level embanked in a straight line along the Monks' Walk, and was perhaps turned, as was nearly every stream that served a medieval congregation, for the purpose of giving power to the mill of the Hyde Abbey and of supplying that community with water. The mention of the stream and of the monastery leads me to two further considerations in support of the same thesis. This splendid monument of the early twelfth century and of the new civilisation, the burial-place of the greatest of our early kings, the shrine which stood to royal Winchester as St. Germain des Prés did to royal Paris, and Westminster later to royal London, would, presumably, have had its gates upon the oldest highway of its time. It should be remarked also that before its deflection that brook must have followed the slope and fallen into the Itchen by a much shorter and smaller channel, reaching the river near where the railway bridge now stands. A portion of its water still attempts a similar outlet, and there can be little doubt that before the embankment of eight hundred years ago the fields we traversed in our search for the path would have been dry, for they are high enough to escape flood, and they have a sufficient slope, and their chalky soil is sufficiently porous to have left the land firm upon either side of the little stream. The Roman road also took the same line, at least as far as King's Worthy; and a Roman road was often based upon a pre-Roman track.[10] The path so taken not only turns no abrupt corner (in itself an excellent argument in support of its antiquity), but points directly to King's Worthy church so as to pass its _south_ porch, and then curves easily into that modern highway which goes on to Martyrs' Worthy and Itchen Stoke, and is admittedly coincident with the Old Road. The alternative has no such regular development; if one comes through Headbourne Worthy one is compelled to turn a sharp corner at the smithy of that village and another just upon King's Worthy church before one can fall in with the modern road at the point where its coincidence with the old one ceases to be doubtful. From all these considerations we determined to follow the lower and more neglected path as representing the track of the Old Road. We left Hyde Street by the first opening in the houses of its eastern side; we halted with regret at the stable door, still carved and of stone, which is the last relic of Hyde Abbey. We saw the little red-brick villas, new built and building, that guard the grave where Alfred lay in majesty for six hundred years.[11] We went up the Monks' Walk, under the arch, past King's Worthy church, through King's Worthy village and so on through Martyrs' Worthy to Itchen Abbas. It is a stretch which needs little comment, for after King's Worthy the modern high-road certainly corresponds with the ancient track. We were walking these few miles upon earth beaten (to quote recorded history alone) by the flight of Saxons from the battle of Alton, and by the conquering march of Swegen which was the preliminary to the rule of the Danes over England. We noted the sharp dip down into the valley[12] (whence Itchen-A-Bas is thought to take its name), and on reaching the green at Itchen Stoke, six miles from our starting-point, we determined to explore the first considerable difficulty which the road would present to us. That difficulty we had already presupposed to exist from a study of the map before we undertook our journey, and an examination of the valley confirmed us in our conjecture. Thus far the history of the Worthies, and, as we have seen, the topographical necessities of the valley had determined the way with some accuracy; the most of it had corresponded to the present high-road. At Itchen Stoke these conditions disappeared. The valley of the Itchen here makes a sharp bend northwards round a low but rather difficult hill, and leads on to the Alresfords. The modern road follows that valley, passes through New Alresford, and there joins the main road from Winchester to London. The Old Road did not follow this course. It crossed the river at Itchen Stoke, crested the hill, and did not join the London road until the point marked by the church at Bishop Sutton, one mile from Alresford. That its track was of this nature can be proved. We had already noted, upon the earlier maps, that, barely a century ago, nothing but irregular lanes connected Itchen Stoke with the Alresfords by the valley of the river. These could not represent the original trail; where that trail passed we were able to discover. The word Stoke here, as elsewhere in the South Country, is associated with the crossing of a stream. It stands for the 'staking' which made firmer the track down through the marshy valley, and supported on either side the wattles and faggots by which an approach to a river was consolidated. Moreover, to this day, a ford exists at Itchen Stoke, and it is an obvious place for passing the river; not only is the water shallow, but the bottom is firm, and the banks are not widely separated, as is so often the case where the depth of a river is lessened. This ford, by itself, might not mean much. There are plenty of reasons for crossing a stream whenever one can, and Itchen Stoke would have provided a convenient ford for any one living north of the river who desired to get south of it. But there are a number of other considerations, which confirm to a point of certitude the crossing of the river by the Old Road at this point. Just above Itchen Stoke is the confluence of all the head-waters which form the Itchen: the Alre, and other streams. Now a confluence of this kind is invariably marshy, and this marsh could not, in early times, have been avoided (if one followed the flat right bank) save by a very long bend to the north: along that bend no trace of a road or of continuous prehistoric use exists: while, if one crosses at Itchen Stoke to the other bank, one finds a steep, dry bank on which to continue one's journey. [Illustration: THE HEAD-WATERS WHICH FORM THE ITCHEN, THE ALRE AND OTHER STREAMS] It might be argued that the traveller would have wished to take on his way such settlements as the Alresfords; but though it is true that an ancient track leaves Old Alresford to the north-east, that track does not point to Farnham, the known junction of the 'short-cut' from Winchester with the original 'Harrow Way.' Old Alresford is well to the west, and also too far to the north of the track we had followed to be touched by it save at the expense of an abrupt and inexplicable bend. New Alresford is nearer the alignment (though not on it), and it is to New Alresford that the modern road leads. But the town was not in existence[13] till the end of the twelfth century, and only grew up in connection with Bishop Lucy's scheme for rendering the Itchen navigable. The pond which was the head of that undertaking still remains, though much diminished, the chief mark of the place. The ford might have been used, and is still used, for reaching all the district south of the Itchen, but that district was high, bare, waterless, unpeopled, and of no great importance until one got to the Meon valley, and it is significant that the Meon valley was in its earliest history independently colonised and politically separate from the valley of the Itchen. In this absence of any but a modern road up the valley to the Alresfords, in the presence of the marsh, in the eccentricity of Old and the modernity of New Alresford, and in the unique purpose attributable to the ford, we had a series of negative considerations which forbade the Old Road to follow the river beyond Itchen Stoke. On the other hand, there are as many positive arguments in favour of the thesis that the ford was used by the oldest road from Winchester to Farnham. Between these two centres, as will be seen in a moment by the sketch-map on p. 137, a high but narrow watershed had to be crossed. To approach this watershed by the easiest route must have been the object of the traveller, and, as the map will show, to cross at this ford, go straight across the hill to Bishop Sutton, and thence follow the Ropley valley was to go in a direct line to one's object. As we talked to the villagers and gathered their traditions, we found that this ford had been of capital importance. The old church of the village stood just beside the river, and in such a position that the road to the ford passed just by its _southern_ porch. It has disappeared--'in the year of the mobbing,' say the peasants: that is, I suppose, in 1831; but the consecrated land around it is still enclosed, and its site must have clustered the whole place about the riverside. It stood, moreover, close against the ford; and the Old Road that skirted the churchyard is marked by an alignment of yews and other trees leading directly to the river. Finally, when we accepted the hypothesis and crossed the river, we found a road corresponding to what the old track should be. It has in the past been somewhat neglected, but it is now a metalled lane; it is without any abrupt turn or corner, and leads directly over the hill in the direction of Bishop Sutton, the Ropley valley, and so at last to the watershed, the surmounting of which was the whole object of the trail from this point onwards. The points I have mentioned will be made clearer, perhaps, by a sketch-map, in which the dark patches and lines represent the water-ways at this confluence which forms the Itchen. The Old Road I have indicated by a dotted line, but for its exact course it would be advisable for readers to refer to an Ordnance map. All these pieces of evidence supporting one another seemed to us sufficient to determine the trajectory at this point. The ford, the position of the church, the number of streams that would have to be crossed were the valley to be further pursued, the low marshy ground at the confluence of these streams, the non-existence of any ancient settlement or trace of a road at the base of Alresford Hill, the fact that the only village to which such a track could lead is of comparatively recent creation, the existence of an old track, direct in its alignment, proceeding straight from the ford, and pointing without deviation to Bishop Sutton church and the Ropley valley--all these facts combined settled any doubts upon the way we should go. We climbed and followed the lane to the top of the hill. [Illustration] These two miles of the way gave us (under the evening--for it was the falling of the light) glimpses of the Itchen westward and away behind us. The road had the merit of all savage trails, and of all the tracks a man still takes who is a-foot and free and can make by the shortest line for his goal: it enjoyed the hills. It carried two clear summits in its flight, and from each we saw those extended views which to the first men were not only a delight, but a security and a guide. It was easy to understand how from these elevations they planned their direct advance upon the ridge of the watershed which lay far before us, eastward, under the advancing night. As they also must have done, we looked backwards, and traced with our eyes the sharp lines of light in the river we had just abandoned. We so halted and watched till darkness had completely fallen; then we turned down northward to Alresford to sleep, and next morning before daybreak, when we had satisfied the police who had arrested us upon suspicion of I know not what crime, we took the hill again and rejoined the Old Road. By daylight we had come down Whitehill Lane, the steep pitch into Bishop Sutton, and were tramping up that vale which makes for the watershed, and so leads to the corresponding vale of Alton upon the further side. Here, at least as far as the Anchor Inn, and somewhat further, the modern highway corresponds to the Old Road. It thus follows the lowest of the valley, but there is no reason at first why it should not do so. The rise is fairly steady, the ground dry (an insignificant stream gradually disappears beneath the chalk), and the direction points straight to the shortest approach for the ridge which cuts off the basin of the Channel from that of the Thames. This direction, does not, however, long continue. The valley curves somewhat to the north, and it might be presumed that the original way, making more directly for the saddle of the watershed, would gradually climb the southern hillside. By so doing it would find two advantages: it would take a shorter cut, and it would conquer at one stretch, and rapidly, the main part of the 360 feet between the Anchor Inn and the summit. It was but a guess that the Old Road would probably take a straight line upwards. The curve of the modern road does not carry it more than half a mile from the direct alignment. The Old Road might quite well have suffered such a deviation, and we were in some doubt when we proceeded to gather our evidence. That evidence, however, proved fairly conclusive. There is a tradition, which Mrs. Adie has justly recognised, that the pilgrims of the Middle Ages passed through Ropley.[14] What is more important to our purpose, Ropley has provided a discovery of British antiquities, Celtic torques, near the track which the more direct line to the watershed would presuppose. We had further the place-name 'Street' to guide us: it is a word almost invariably found in connection with a roadway more or less ancient; later on we found many examples of it upon this same road.[15] Here the hamlet of Gilbert Street lay to the south of our hypothetical alignment, and another, named North Street, just to the north of it. [Illustration] We further noted upon our map that a very considerable portion of the exact alignment drawn from the main road at the Anchor Inn to the saddle of the watershed would coincide precisely with a lane, which, when we came to examine it, gave every evidence of high antiquity. Possessed of such evidence, it was our business to see whether investigation upon the spot would confirm the conclusion to which they pointed. There was enough discovered so to confirm it, though the Old Road at this point has disappeared in several places under the plough. The course of our discovery will be best followed with the aid of this rough map, whereon are sketched the contour-lines, the trace of the Old Road, and the watershed. About half a mile from the 'Anchor' at the end of the avenue of trees which here dignifies the turnpike and just after the cross-roads,[16] in a meadow which lay to the right of the road, my companion noticed an embankment, perfectly straight, slightly diverging southward from the main road as the line we were seeking should diverge, and (as we found by standing upon it and taking its direction) pointing directly at the saddle of the watershed. Whether it was continued through the garden of the Chequers Inn (a very few yards) I would not trespass to inquire: in the three fields beyond, it had entirely disappeared.[17] After this gap, however, there is a boundary, with an old hedge running along it and a path or cartway of a sort.[18] These carry us exactly the same direction down a short slope, across a lane called Cow Lane, and on to the Manor Farm at North Street. During this stretch of a mile there was nothing more to guide us. The division between fields and properties very often follows the line of some common way: one could not say more. But the significant fact which, as we believe, permitted us to bridge the gap was this: that the embankment we had first discovered, and the hedge and path (which proceeded in the same line after the loss of the road over the two fields) each pointed directly towards the lane (Brisland Lane) which we entered close to the Manor Farm,[19] which presented, as we found, such marks of antiquity, which takes the hill steeply, and which, on the plateau above, continues to aim straight at the saddle of the watershed. It is difficult to express in a written description the sentiment of conviction which the actual view of such an alignment conveyed. When we had followed the lane up the steep hill and stood by Brisland farmhouse, looking back from that height we could see the lane we had been following, the hedge, the corner of the garden of the 'Chequers,' the embankment beyond, all in one, stretched out like parti-coloured sections of one string, and the two gaps did but emphasise the exactitude of the line. Turning again in the direction which we were to follow, the evidence of ancient usage grew clearer. We were upon one of those abandoned grassy roads, which are found here and there in all parts of England; it ran clear away before us for a couple of miles. It was very broad--twenty yards perhaps. The hedges stood upon either side, guarding land that had been no man's land since public protection first secured the rude communications of the country. No one who had seen portions of the Icknield Way upon the Chilterns, or of this same Old Road where it has decayed upon the Kentish hills, could doubt the nature of what we saw. Long fallen into disuse, it had yet escaped the marauding landlords during three centuries of encroachment. They had not even narrowed it. So much of its common character remained: it was treeless, wide, and the most of it neglected; never metalled during all the one hundred and fifty years which have transformed English highways. It was the most desolate, as it was the most convincing, fragment of the Old Road we had set out to find. It had an abominable surface; we had to pick our way from one dry place to another over the enormous ruts which recent carts had made. For generations the lane had been untenanted; but there is a place where, in the last few years, an extraordinary little town of bungalows and wooden cottages had arisen upon either side of the lane. Not satisfied with the map, we asked of a man who was carrying milk what local name was given to this venerable street. He told us that the part in which we were walking was called Blackberry Lane, but that it had various names at different parts: and as he could tell us nothing more, we left him. At the very summit this way joined a modern, well-made lane, called Farringdon Lane, turned to the left and north, and immediately fell into the main London road, which had been climbing from the valley below and was here at the thirteenth milestone. The Old Road, suffering no deviation, plunged into a wood, and reappeared just at the summit of the pass, perhaps a quarter of a mile further. It is the point where the Ordnance map marks a height of 683 feet, and where one finally leaves the valley of the Itchen to enter that of the Wey. The complexity of this corner is best understood in the sketch-map on the following page. At the point where the Old Road leaves the wood, it merges again into the London turnpike, which turns its direction (as the map shows) so as to correspond with the direction of the Old Road. This identity between the prehistoric and the modern is maintained nearly as far as Alton, and, if we except a short gap before that town, the coincidence of the Old Road and some existing highway may be said to continue right on to Puttenham, a distance of seventeen miles. [Illustration] The valley which now opened eastward under the dull morning light reminded me of one of those noble dales which diversify the long slope of the Chiltern Hills. Like them it had the round sweep of the Chalk; beeches, the trees of the Chalk, adorned it; its direction was the same, its dryness, its neat turf; but it lacked the distant horizons. For two miles the road, magnificent in surface and in breadth, one of the finest in England, followed the bottom of the valley, falling in that distance some 300 feet; and in all this part it was most evidently the oldest of ways across these hills. There could be repeated of it what has been said above with regard to the road between Bishop Sutton and Ropley, and what will appear further on in the valley of the Wey: that any track, ancient or modern, was bound to follow the same course. For the dry and porous soil permitted a journey even under the earliest conditions along the lowest points, and, so permitted, such a journey had the advantage of descending by the easiest gradient. Had it taken to the hillside it would have fallen at last upon Alton by way of a steep spur. Moreover, the bottom of the valley is here constant in direction, not curving as we had found it on the far side of the watershed, and this direction deviates little from the straight line to Alton. These characters do not attach to the London turnpike after the fifteenth milestone is passed; it turns somewhat sharply to the right (or southward) and falls by a corner into the road from the Meon valley at the entry of Chawton village. Such a course one may be certain was not followed by the Old Road. It could not but have preserved the alignment which the valley had already given it, and which corresponds, moreover, with the High Street of Alton itself. For these seven furlongs there can be no doubt that it continued straight along the dip of the valley, and entered Alton on the northern side[20] of the triangular common called 'The Butts,' by which one approaches the town from the south-west. We were unable to prove this by direct examination; the main line of railway has here obliterated much by an embankment, and to this has been added all the new work of the Meon valley line, and the junction. The ground has therefore lost all its original character, and its oldest marks have disappeared. We made no attempt to follow the direct path for this short mile. We descended the high-road round by Chawton to Alton, and the first division of our task, the division in which a greater proportion of uncertainty would exist than in any other, was accomplished. Comforted by such a thought, we drank mild ale at the 'Three Tuns' for about half an hour. FOOTNOTES: [8] The prosperity of the Jews in the early Middle Ages was remarkable. They have been said to have accumulated 46 per cent. of the total personalty of England in little more than the first century of their operations. This is an error, due to overlooking the fact that for the Saladin Tithe the Jew was taxed one fourth and not one-tenth of his goods. The true figure should be about 25½ per cent. But even that is astonishing for perhaps one per cent. of the population. It supposes an average Jewish fortune twenty-five times larger than the average English one. [9] This is a strong argument, because Headbourne Worthy, the point in dispute, was precisely the most important of these villages. It is given in Domesday (Ordie) as the holding of Mortemer, while King's Worthy was but a hamlet, and Martyrs' Worthy is not mentioned. [10] Mr. Haverfield in the _Victoria History of Hampshire_ (vol. i. 287) gives the Roman Road as going straight from the North Gate to the King's Worthy church. See also his general map and his description on p. 321. This is surely preferable to the conjecture of the 6-inch Ordnance (Hampshire, XLI.) that it followed the line of Hyde Street and proceeded to Headbourne Worthy. [11] One would naturally expect Alfred's bones to have been scattered with the rest in the Reformation; they seem to have been spared. It was most probably Alfred's leaden coffin that was dug up unopened in the building of the now vanished prison, and sold in 1788. It fetched two pounds. [12] Leaving upon our left the first of the archæological discoveries which mark the whole of the Road:--the Roman villa unearthed or explored by Mr. Collier in 1878. [13] The balance of evidence is certainly against it. In favour of the antiquity of New Alresford we have the phrase _restored_ applied to Bishop Lucy's market, and the three churches attached to Alresford in Domesday, and supposed to show that more than one village was attached to the manor. Against, we have the immediate presence of the artificial head of water established by the Bishop; the name, and the fact that the medieval road from Alton went not to New but to Old Alresford. Again, while there is no special mention of New Alresford in Domesday, there is mention of Sutton, close by, and a Bishop's palace stood there for some centuries. [14] Their passage is an excellent example of the Reversion of the Pilgrimage to an ancient road. The regular road in the thirteenth century was presumably that by Chawton Wood and Bighton, mentioned by Duthie, who finds it in a charter of Henry III.'s. (This charter, it is only fair to add, was never discovered by his executors.) [15] Thus West Street and Broad Street near Lenham, Dun Street at the edge of Eastwell, the old name for Albury (Weston Street), etc. [16] The point where the line leaves the modern road is east of Bury Lane, just past a farm called Dean Farm. The ridge is first noticeable in the field marked 134 in the 1/2500 inch Ordnance Map for Hampshire [XLII. 7, Old Series, 1870, Ropley Parish]. [17] These fields are marked 191, 192, and 194 on 1/2500 inch Ordnance Map, Hampshire, Old Series, 1870, XLII. 8. [18] The boundary between the fields marked 201, and 202-3 in map cited above. The track is again lost for a short distance in crossing the field marked 205. [19] The last few yards of the alignment follow the boundary between plots marked 219 and 216 in map already quoted. [20] Moreover, from this same point the medieval road to Old Alresford mentioned above left Alton. ALTON TO SHALFORD _Twenty-one miles_ At Alton, with the green by which one enters the town from the west, begins a stretch of the Old Road, which stands by itself. It may be roughly called the division between Alton and Farnham, but it stretches for a mile or two beyond Farnham to the pond at Whiteways, where the main road climbs the summit of the Hog's Back, and leaves the Pilgrim's Way a few hundred yards to the south. This section, just over thirteen miles in length, has several peculiarities which distinguish it from the rest of the Road. _First_--It follows the river Wey for miles, not as it followed the river Itchen, on a dry ledge above the stream, but right along the low land of the waterside. This is a feature in the Old Road not to be discovered in any other part of its course. It takes care to be within easy reach of water for men and horses, but it avoids the low level of a stream, and thick cover and danger of floods which such a level usually threaten. We had not found it (save for a very few yards) in immediate touch with the Itchen, nor should we find it later on running by the Mole, the Darent, or the Medway. Even the Stour, whose valley it is compelled to follow, it regards from heights well above the river. _Secondly_--It runs for a part of this division upon clay, a soil which elsewhere it carefully avoids as being about the worst conceivable for a primitive and unmetalled road. Elsewhere (after Wrotham, for instance), it will make a detour rather than attempt any considerable stretch of gault; but here, for several miles along this valley of the Wey, it faces the danger. _Thirdly_--In every other portion of its long journey it passes along the _edge_ of habitations and tilled land; it was brought to do so by the same economic tendency which makes our railways to-day pass by the edges, not the centre of most towns; but here it must often have run right through whatever cultivation existed; at Alton, at Farnham, and in one village between, Bentley, it forms the high street of the place. A track which carefully just avoids Guildford, Dorking, Reigate, Westerham, Wrotham, Charing, and a dozen smaller places here touches and occasionally passes through the earliest groups of houses, the earliest pastures and ploughed fields. Finally, there is a correspondence between it and the modern high-road for the _whole_ of this considerable distance of over thirteen miles. In this character, again, the division we were now entering is unique. We have indeed already found it identical with a modern road. The modern high-road also corresponds with the old way for something like a mile at Otford over the Darent, and for two or three miles beyond; it is a modern road for more than half a mile before you reach the ferry at Snodland, and there is a road in construction which follows its track for some hundreds of yards on Gravelly Hill, near Caterham. For many miles of its course it is identical if not with high-roads at least with metalled lanes, as we had already found between Itchen Stoke and Bishop Sutton, and very commonly with unmetalled tracks or paths. But in all these cases it is broken: there are stretches of it unused. Modern advantages and modern necessities have left the Old Road continually to one side. Here for this very considerable distance it is identical with the great turnpike, and so remains identical up to and beyond its point of junction with the older 'Harrow Way' at Farnham. Can we discover any explanation for this coincidence of a prehistoric track with the high-road of our own time, which is almost indifferent to soil? for the crossing of the clay? for the neighbourhood of the river? A little consideration will enable us to do so. The hills which everywhere else afford so even a platform for the prehistoric road are here of a contour which forbids their use. To-day, as a thousand years ago, any road down this valley must have run upon this lowest line. The contour-lines, of which a rough sketch is here appended, are enough to prove it. [Illustration] There is a deep combe at Holybourne Down, two more on either side of Froyle, a fourth beyond Bentley, a fifth--smaller--before Farnham. All these gullies cut up into a hopeless tangle what in Surrey and Kent will become one unbroken bank of chalk. Any path attempting these hillsides would either have doubled its length in avoiding the hollows, or would--had it remained direct--have been a succession of steep ascents and falls; all the dry slopes which bound the vale to the north are a succession of steep and isolated projections, thrust out from the distant main chain of the chalk; many of them are crowned with separated summits. The road is therefore compelled to follow the valley floor with all the consequences I have noted. As far as Froyle, two and a half miles from Alton, it never leaves the river by more than a quarter of a mile, but the valley is here dry, the soil gravelly and sandy, the height considerable (above three hundred feet), and there is no reason why it should go further from the stream than it did in the valley of the Itchen. After Froyle you get the clay, and then right on through Bentley the road does attempt to get away northward from the stream, avoiding the marshy levels and keeping to the 300-feet contour-line. It does not approach the river again till firmer ground is found near the Bull Inn. Thence to within two miles of Farnham it has to negotiate a good deal of clay, but it picks out such patches of gravel as it can find,[21] and it must be remembered that the valley of the Wey, in this early part, drains more rapidly, and has a less supply of water than that of the Itchen. Near Farnham, somewhat beyond Runwick House, it finds the sand again, and can follow along the low level without difficulty. The Old Road keeps throughout this passage to the sunny northern bank of the river, so that, while it is compelled to keep to the bottom of the valley, it attempts at least to get the driest part of it. Farnham, at the mouth of this valley, the point of junction between the Old Road and its still older predecessor from Salisbury Plain, was always a place of capital importance, especially in war. The Roman entrenchment, two miles up the valley, the Roman dwellings to the south, tell us only a little of its antiquity; and though our knowledge of the castle extends no further than the eleventh century, the fact that it was the meeting-place of the roads that came from Salisbury Plain, from the Channel, from London, and from the Straits of Dover, necessarily made it a key to southern England. We have seen how the western roads converge there, first the Harrow Way, then our own road from Southampton Water and Winchester (a road which probably received the traffic of all the south beyond Dorsetshire), then the road from Portsmouth and the Meons, which came in at Chawton. The accident of the Surrey hills made all men who wished to get to the south-western ports from the Thames valley and the east pass through Farnham. Travellers going west and north from the Weald were equally compelled, if they would avoid the ridge, to pass through Farnham. The former had to come down north of the Hog's Back, the latter from the south of it, and it was ever at Farnham that they met. At Farnham, therefore, the first political division of our road may be said to end; and after Farnham the western tracks, now all in one, proceed to the Straits of Dover, or rather to Canterbury, which is the rallying-point of the several Kentish ports. Just outside the town the road begins to rise: it is an indication that the road is about to take the flank of the hills, a position which it holds uninterruptedly (save for four short gaps occasioned by four river valleys) from this point until the Camp above Canterbury. Hitherto, for reasons which I have explained, the road has had no opportunity of this kind. The hills of the Itchen valley were not sufficiently conspicuous, those of the upper Wey too tortuous, for the trail to take advantage of a dry, even, and well-drained slope. The height to which it rises between Ropley and Alton is not a height chosen for its own purpose, but a height which had to be overcome of necessity to cross the watershed. Henceforward, until we were within a few miles of Canterbury, there stretched before us, on and on, day after day, the long line of the northern heights, whose escarpment presented everything the Old Road needed for its foundation, and of which I have written at such length in the earlier portion of this book. The rise continued gently until the inn at Rumbold was passed, and the fork at Whiteways was reached. Here the old flanking road went up along the ridge of the Hog's Back in the shape of the modern turnpike, while our track was left to continue its eastward way, two hundred feet below, upon the side of the hill. Its soil was here a thin strip of the green-sand which continued to support us, until next day we crossed the Tillingbourne, just above Shere. It runs, therefore, firmly and evenly upon a dry soil, and the villages and the churches mark its ancient progress. The afternoon was misty, even the telegraph poles, which at first marked the ridge of the Hog's Back above us, disappeared in the first half mile. We went unhappily and in the fog regretting the baker's cart which had taken us along many miles of road so swiftly and so well: a cart of which I have not spoken any more than I have of the good taverns we sat in, or of the curious people we met (as for instance, the warrior at Farnham), because they are not germane to such an historical essay as is this. We went, I say, regretting the baker's cart, and came to the wonderful church of Seale standing on its little mound. We noted that the track passed to southward of it, not right against its southern porch, but as near as it could get, given the steep accident of the soil just beyond. We noted this (but dully, for we were very tired), and we plodded on to Shoelands. We were in the thick of the memories which are the last to hang round the Old Road, I mean the memories of those pilgrims, who, after so many thousand years of its existence, had luckily preserved the use and trace of the way. Seale was built at the expense of Waverley, right in the enthusiasm that followed the first pilgrimages, just after 1200. The names also of the hamlets have been held to record the pilgrimage. How Seale (a name found elsewhere just off the Old Road) may do so I cannot tell. 'Shoelands' has been connected with 'Shooling'--almsgiving. Compton church itself was famous. Even little Puttenham had its pilgrim's market, and Shalford its great fair, called Becket's fair. We left Seale then, and at last, two miles on and very weary, we approached Puttenham, where, for the first time since Alton, something of exploration awaited us. There was, indeed, just before reaching Puttenham, a small difficulty, but it is not of this that I am writing. The Old Road, which had for miles coincided with the lane, turned a sharp corner, and this, as I have already remarked, is so much against its nature in every known part of it, that I could only ascribe it to a cultivated field[22] which has turned the road. Once tillage had begun, the road would be led round this field, and the old track, crossing it diagonally, would disappear under the plough; the original way must have run much as is suggested at the point marked X upon the map, and the suggestion has the greater force from the presence of a footpath following this line. But the point is of little importance and is easily settled. In Puttenham itself lay the more interesting problem, to elucidate which this sketch was drawn. [Illustration] It arises, just before the church is reached, and affords a very interesting example of how the Old Road has been lost and may be recovered. The present road goes round to the north of the church, outside a high wall, which there forbids any passage. It turns sharp round a corner, and then proceeds due south to the village of Compton. When it has passed through this village, it turns north again, and so reaches St. Catherine's chapel, near which point it is agreed that the passage of the Wey was made. Not only does the modern road take this circuitous course, but the pilgrims of the later Middle Ages probably followed a direction not very different. Compton church perhaps attracted them. It is not the only place in which we shall find their leisurely piety misleading our research. The Pilgrimage and the modern road both tend to make us miss the original track. That track, as a group of independent facts sufficiently show, passed south of Puttenham church, continuing the direction which it had hitherto followed from Seale; it went past the inn miscalled 'The Jolly Farmer,' and so on in a straight line over Puttenham Heath, where it is still marked by a rough cart-track kind of way. One must here repeat an argument which continually recurs in these pages. Short of a physical obstacle, there is no reason but private property, and property long established and well defined, to give rise to such an unnatural halt in a path as is here made by a sudden turn of a right angle. We know that the enclosure of this church within the wall was comparatively recent. We know that in every case where the Old Road passes directly past a village church, it passes to the south. From the south, as we have already seen, the entry of the traveller was made; for, to repeat the matter, a custom presumably much older than our religion, gave approach to sacred places from the side of the sun. The face of the Inn, the road before it (ending now abruptly and without meaning at the wall), and the road through Puttenham village are all in the same alignment. It is an alignment that makes for the passage of the Wey (for Shalford, that is), much in the direction the Old Road has held since Seale. The alignment is continued on through Puttenham Heath by an existing track, and in all this continuous chain there is no break, save the comparatively modern wall round the church. Finally, Puttenham Heath had furnished antiquities of every sort, especially of the Neolithic period and of the Bronze: all within a small area, and all in the immediate neighbourhood of this Way. So many indications were sufficient to make us follow the right-of-way across Puttenham Heath, and our conjecture was confirmed by our finding at the further edge of the heath, a conspicuous embankment marked by an exact line of three very aged trees, which everywhere indicate the track. Though it was hardly a road, rough and marked only by ruts in the winter soil and by its rank of secular trees, it was most evidently the Old Road. We were glad to have found it. When we had passed through the hollow to the north of a few cottages, direct evidence of the road disappeared at the boundary of Monk's Hatch Park, but it was not lost for long. 350 yards further on, laid on the same line, a slightly sunken way reappeared; it ran a few yards below the recently made Ash Path, and led directly by the lane along the south of Brixbury Wood, across the Compton Road, and so by a lane called 'Sandy Lane,' beyond, over the crest of the hill, till, as the descent began, it became metalled, grew wider, and merged at last into the regular highway which makes straight for St. Catherine's Hill and the ferry and ford below it. [Illustration: ROUGH, AND MARKED ONLY BY RUTS IN THE WINTER SOIL, AND BY ITS RANK OF SECULAR TREES] The Old Road having thus coincided once more with a regular road, we went at a greater pace, observing little of our surroundings (since nothing needed to be discovered), and hoped to make before it was quite dark the passage of the river. [Illustration: THAT CURIOUS PLATFORM WHICH SUPPORTS IN SUCH AN IMMENSE ANTIQUITY OF CONSECRATION THE RUINS OF ST. CATHERINE'S CHAPEL] Arrived, however, at that curious platform which supports in such an immense antiquity of consecration the ruins of St. Catherine's chapel, we saw that the exact spot at which the river was crossed was not easily to be determined. The doubt does not concern any considerable space. It hesitates between two points on the river, and leaves unmapped about 800 yards of the road; but that gap is, it must be confessed, unsolved so far as our investigation could be carried. It is certain that the prehistoric road begins again by the north-western corner of the Chantries Wood. Tradition and the unbroken trail hence to St. Martha's hill-top confirm it. The arguments I have used in the last few pages show equally that the road led, on this side of the way, up to the point below St. Catherine's chapel where we were now standing. It is, moreover, extremely probable that the platform of St. Catherine's was the look-out from which the first users of this track surveyed their opportunities for passing the river, and near to it undoubtedly their successors must have beaten down the road. The precipitous face towards the stream, the isolation of the summit and its position, commanding a view up and down the valley, render it just such a place as would, by its value for their journeys and their wars, have made it sacred to a tribe: its sanctity during the Middle Ages gives the guess a further credential. But in framing an hypothesis as to how the valley was taken from the descent of St. Catherine's to the rise at the Chantries beyond the stream, one is met by two sets of facts irreconcilable with one another, and supporting arguments each, unfortunately, of equal weight. These facts are few, simple, and urgent; they are as follows:-- Primitive man we must imagine chose, if he could, a ford, and kept to such a passage rather than to any form of ferry. The ford exists. It has given its name 'The Shallow Ford' to the village which grew up near it. The church stands close by. So far it would seem that the road certainly passed over the crest of St. Catherine's, came down to the south of that hill, crossed at Shalford, and reached the Chantries by that passage. On the other hand a sunken way of great antiquity leads directly from St. Catherine's Hill down to the river. It follows the only practicable descent of the bank. It is in line with the previous trend of the Old Road; at its foot is a ferry which has had a continuous history at least as old as the pilgrimage, and beyond this ferry, the path over the field, and the avenue beyond the main road, lead immediately and without any diversion to that point at the foot of the Chantries Hill where, as I have said, the Old Road is again evident. From Shalford no such track is apparent, nor could it be possible for a passage by Shalford to be made, save at the expense of a detour much sharper than the Old Road executes in any other part of its course. In the face of these alternatives no certain decision could be arrived at. The medieval route was here no guide, for it had already left the road to visit Compton, and was free to use Shalford ford, the ferry, or even Guildford Bridge--all three of which the pilgrims doubtless passed indifferently, for all three were far older than the pilgrimage. It may be that the ferry stands for an old ford, now deepened. It may be that the passage at Shalford was used first, and soon replaced by that of the ferry. We knew of no discoveries in that immediate neighbourhood which might have helped us to decide; we were compelled, though disappointed, to leave the point open. It was now quite dark. My companion and I clambered down the hill, stole a boat which lay moored to the bank, and with a walking-stick for an oar painfully traversed the river Wey. When we had landed, we heard, from the further bank, a woman, the owner of the boat, protesting with great violence. We pleaded our grave necessity; put money in the boat, and then, turning, we followed the marshy path across the field to the highway, and when we reached it, abandoned the Old Road in order to find an inn. [Illustration] We slept that night at Guildford, whence the next morning, before daylight, we returned up the highway to the spot where we had left the Old Road, and proceeded through the gate and up the avenue to follow and discover that section of the road between the Wey and the Mole which is by far the richest in evidences of prehistoric habitation--a stretch of the Old Road which, partly from its proximity to London, partly from its singular beauty, partly from its accidental association with letters, but mainly from the presence of rich and leisured men, has been hitherto more fully studied than any other, and which yet provides in its sixteen miles more matter for debate than any other similar division between Winchester and Canterbury. FOOTNOTES: [21] Though the valley is full of clay the road avoids it with remarkable success. Of the eight miles between Alton and Farnham the first three have chosen a narrow strip of good gravel, the next one and a half miles are on green-sand. At the entry to Bentley village the clay is unavoidable, but after a mile of it the road takes advantage of a patch of gravel as far as the Bull Inn. It has then to cross a quarter-mile belt of gault, but beyond this it uses a long, irregular, and narrow patch of gravel, and at the end of this, just east of the county boundary, it finds the narrow belt of sand which it keeps to all the way to Farnham. The whole is an example of how a primitive track will avoid bad soil. [22] This field is marked 37 in the 1/2500-inch Ordnance Map for Surrey, l. xxxi. SHALFORD TO DORKING PITS _Eleven miles_ The Old Road leaves the Guildford and Shalford highway on the left, or east, in a line with the path which has reached it from the ferry. We passed through a gate and entered an avenue of trees, at the end of which the newer road which has been built along it turns off to the left, while the Old Road itself, in the shape of a vague lane, begins to climb the hill. The light was just breaking, and we could follow it well. At this point, and for some distance further, it is known to historians and antiquaries, and preserves, moreover, many indications of that use whereby the medieval pilgrimage revived and confirmed its course. It skirts by the side of, and finally passes through, woods which still bear the name of the 'Chantries,' and climbs to that isolated summit where stands the chapel of St. Thomas: 'the Martyr's' chapel, which, in the decay of religion and corruption of tradition, came to be called 'St. Martha's.' This spot, for all its proximity to London and to the villas of the rich, preserves a singular air of loneliness. It has a dignity and an appeal which I had thought impossible in land of which every newspaper is full; and that morning, before men were stirring, with the mist all about us and the little noises of animals in the woods, we recovered its past. The hill responded to the ancient camps, just southward and above us. It responded to its twin height of St. Catherine's: the whole landscape had forgotten modern time, and we caught its spirit the more easily that it relieved us of our fears lest in this belt near London the Old Road should lose its power over us. It has been conjectured, upon such slight evidence as archæology possesses, that the summit was a place of sacrifice. Certainly great rings of earth stood here before the beginning of history; certainly it was the sacred crown for the refugees of Farley Heath, of Holmbury, of Anstie Bury, and of whatever other stations of war may have crowned these defiant hills. If it saw rites which the Catholic Church at last subdued, we know nothing of them; we possess only that thread of tradition which has so rarely been broken in western Europe: the avenue, whereby, until the sixteenth century, all our race could look back into the very origins of their blood. The hill was an isolated peak peculiar and observable. Such separate heights have called up worship always wherever they were found: the Middle Ages gave this place what they gave to the great outstanding rocks of the sea, the 'St. Michaels': to the dominating or brooding capitols of cities, Montmartre or Our Lady of Lyons; perhaps Arthur's Seat had a shrine. The Middle Ages gave it what they had inherited, for they revered the past only, they sought in the past their ideals, and hated whatever might destroy the common memory of the soil and the common observances of men--as modern men hate pain or poverty. Remembering all this we rested at the chapel on the hill-top, and considered it wearily. We regretted its restoration to new worship, and recollected (falsely, as it turned out) famous graves within it. The air was too hazy to distinguish the further view to the south. The Weald westward was quite hidden, and even the height of Hirst Wood above and beyond us eastward was hardly to be seen. When we had spent half an hour at this place we prepared to go down the further side, but first we looked to see whether the Old Road passed clearly to one side or the other of the summit, for we thought that matter would be of importance to us as a guide for its direction in similar places later on. But we could decide nothing. Certainly the track makes northward of the church until it is near the top of the hill, but, as it gets near, it points right at it (as we might expect), is lost, and is only recovered some twenty or fifty yards beyond the platform of the summit, coming apparently neither from the south nor from the north of the church; the direction is a little obscured, moreover, by a modern plantation which confuses the beginning of the descent. Soon it grew clear enough, and we followed it at a race, down the hill perhaps half a mile. It was plainer and plainer as we went onward, till it struck the road which leads from Guildford to Albury. Here there rises a difficulty unique in the whole course of the way. It is a difficulty we cannot pretend to have solved. The trail for once goes to the damp and northward side of a hill: the hill on which stands Weston Wood. It is an exception to an otherwise universal rule, and an exception for which no modern conditions can account. There is apparently no reason why it should not have followed its otherwise invariable rule of taking the southerly slope, and it could have chosen the dry clean air of the heath and kept all the way near the fresh water of the Tillingbourne. On the other hand, there is no doubt whatever of its direction. Tradition, the existence of modern tracks, and more important still, the direction of the road after it leaves St. 'Martha's' chapel, all point to the same conclusion. The Pilgrim's Way crosses diagonally the field beyond the main road, goes just behind the little cottage at its corner,[23] and then makes for Albury Park by way of a wretched and difficult sunken lane to the north of Weston Wood. We entered this neglected and marshy way. It was a place of close, dark, and various trees, full of a damp air, and gloomy with standing water in the ruts: the whole an accident differing in tone from all that we knew of the road, before and after. It was not long in passing. We left the undergrowth for the open of a field, and found the trace of the road pointing to the wall of Albury Park. It entered just north of the new church, and then followed a clearly marked ridge upon which, here and there, stood the yews. [Illustration: A PLACE OF CLOSE DARK AND VARIOUS TREES, FULL OF A DAMP AIR, AND GLOOMY WITH STANDING WATER-RUTS] After the Old Road enters Albury Park there is a doubtful section of about a mile and a half. The 25-inch Ordnance for Surrey (revised eight years ago) carries the track southward at a sharp angle, round the old church of SS. Peter and Paul and then along the south of Shere till it stops suddenly at a farm called 'Gravel Pits Farm.' It seemed to us as we overlooked the valley from the north, that the Old Road followed a course now included in the garden of Albury, and corresponding, perhaps, to the Yew Walk which Cobbett has rendered famous, and so reached the ford which crosses the Tillingbourne at the limits of the park--a ford still called 'Chantry' ford, and evidently the primitive crossing-place of the stream. Thence it probably proceeded, as we did, along that splendid avenue of limes which is the mark of the village of Shere. But from the end of this there are some three hundred yards of which one cannot be very certain. It comes so very near to the church that one may presume, without too much conjecture, that it passed beside the southern porch. If it did so, it should have crossed the stream again near where the smithy stands to-day, and this double crossing of the stream may be accounted for by the presence of a shrine and of habitation in the oldest times. But if the bridge be taken as an indication (which bridges often are) of the original place where the stream was re-crossed, then the track would have left the church on the right, and would have curved round to become the present high-road to Gomshall. Nothing certain can be made of its passage here, except that the track marked upon the Ordnance map will not fit in with the character of the road. The Ordnance map loses it at Gomshall, finds it again much further on, having turned nearly a right angle and going (for no possible reason) right up to and over the crest of the hills: across Ranmore Common and so to Burford Bridge. The first part of this cannot but be a confusion with the Old Drove Road to London. As for the crossing of the Mole at Burford Bridge we shall see in a moment that the medieval pilgrimage passed the river at this point, but the prehistoric road at a point a mile and more up stream. Taking into consideration the general alignment of the Old Road, its 'habits,' the pits that mark it, and its crossing-place in the Mole valley, we did not doubt that we should find it again on the hillside beyond Gomshall. [Illustration: THAT SPLENDID AVENUE OF LIMES] Its track must have crossed the high-road at a point nearly opposite Netley House, and by a slow climb have made for the side of the Downs and for the chalk, which henceforward it never leaves, save under the necessity of crossing a river valley, until it reaches Chilham, sixty miles away. Beyond the grounds of Netley House the Old Road is entirely lost. A great ploughed field has destroyed every trace of it, but the direction is quite easy to follow when one notes the alignment which it pursues upon its reappearance above the line of cultivation. It must have run, at first, due north-west, and turned more and more westward as it neared Colekitchen Lane: it must have crossed the mouth of Colekitchen Combe, which here runs into the hills, and have reached in this fashion the 400-feet contour-line at the corner of Hacklehurst Down, where we come on it just at the far edge of the Combe, on the shoulder about three hundred yards east of the rough lane which leads up from under the railway arch to the Downs.[24] From this point we could follow it mile after mile without any difficulty. Its platform is nearly always distinct; the yews follow it in a continual procession, though it is cut here and there by later roads. The old quarries and chalk pits which mark it henceforward continually along the way to Canterbury begin to appear, and it does not fail one all along the hill and the bottom of Denbies Park until, at the end of that enclosure, it is lost in the pit of the Dorking Lime Works. It does not reappear. Beyond there is a considerable gap--nearly a mile in length--before it can reach the river Mole, which it must cross in order to pursue its journey. With this gap I shall deal in a moment, but it was the affair of our next day's journey, for short as had been the distance from Shalford, the many checks and the seeking here and there which they had entailed had exhausted the whole of the short daylight. The evening had come when we stood on the Down looking over to Box Hill beyond. From thence across the valley, Box Hill attracted and held the sight as one looked eastward: the strongest and most simple of our southern hills. It stood out like a cape along our coasting journey, our navigation of the line of the Downs. The trend of the range is here such that the clean steep of this promontory hides the slopes to the east. It occupies the landscape alone. It has been debated and cannot be resolved, why these great lines of chalk north and south of the Weald achieve an impression of majesty. They are not very high. Their outline is monotonous and their surface bare. Something of that economy and reserve by whose power the classic in verse or architecture grows upon the mind is present in the Downs. These which we had travelled that day were not my own hills--Duncton and Bury, Westburton, Amberley and all--but they were similar because they stood up above the sand and the pines, and because they were of that white barren soil, clothed in close turf, wherein nothing but the beech, the yew, and our own affection can take root and grow. At the end of a day's work, a short winter day's, it was possible to separate this noble mark of what was once a true county of Surrey; to separate it even in the mind, from the taint of our time and the decay and vileness which hang like a smell of evil over whatever has suffered the influence of our great towns. The advancing darkness which we face restored the conditions of an older time; the staring houses merged with the natural trees; a great empty sky and a river mist gave the illusion of a place unoccupied. It was possible to see the passage of the Mole as those rare men saw it who first worked their way eastward to the Straits, and had not the suggestion seemed too fantastic for a sober journey of research, one might have taken the appeal of the hills for a kind of guide; imagining that with such a goal the trail would plunge straight across the valley floor to reach it. By more trustworthy methods, the track of the Old Road was, as I have said, less ascertainable. Presumably it followed, down the shoulder of the hill, a spur leading to the river, but the actual mark of the road was lost, its alignment soon reached ploughed land; nothing of the place of crossing could be determined till the stream itself was examined, nor indeed could we make sure of the true point until we found ourselves unexpectedly aided by the direction of the road when we recovered it upon the further bank. This we left for the dawn of the next day; and so went down into Dorking to sleep. I have said that from Denbies, or rather from the pits of Dorking Lime Works, the path is apparently lost. It reappears, clearly enough marked, along the lower slope of Box Hill, following the 300-feet contour-line; but between the two points is a gap extending nearly a mile on one side of the river and almost half a mile upon the other. I have seen it conjectured that the Old Road approached the Mole near Burford, and that it turned sharply up over Ranmore Common on its way. That it crossed Ranmore Common is impossible. Undoubtedly a prehistoric track ran over that heath, but it was a branch track to the Thames--one of the many 'feeders' which confuse the record of the Old Road. But that it crossed at Burford Bridge is arguable. The name Burford suggests the crossing of the river. The pilgrims undoubtedly passed here, going down Westhumble Lane, and using the bridge--for everybody uses a bridge once it has been built. Thence they presumably followed along the western flank of Box Hill, and so round its base to that point where, as I have said, the embankment and the old trees reappear. [Illustration] Nevertheless, those who imagine that the original road, the prehistoric track, followed this course, were, we thought, in error. We had little doubt that, after the lime pit outside Denbies Park, the road followed down the moderate shoulder or spur which here points almost directly eastward towards the valley, crossed the railway just north of the road bridge over the line, approached the Mole at a point due east of this, and immediately ascended the hill before it to that spot where it distinctly reappears: a spot near the 300-feet contour-line somewhat to the west of the lane leading from the Reigate Road to the crest of the hills.[25] [Illustration: IT STOOD OUT LIKE A CAPE ALONG OUR COASTING JOURNEY, OUR NAVIGATION OF THE LINE OF THE DOWNS] I will give my reasons for this conclusion. A diversion round by Burford Bridge would have taken the early travellers far out of their way. Roughly speaking, they would have had to go along two sides of an equilateral triangle instead of its base: three miles for one and a half. Now, had they any reason to do this? None that I can see. Wherever, in crossing a valley, the Old Road diverges from its general alignment, it diverges either to avoid bad soil or to find a ford. The name Burford would suggest to those who have not carefully examined the river that this diversion might have been made necessary in order to find a shoal at that point; but the Mole is very unlike the other streams south of the Thames. It disappears into 'swallows': it 'snouzles,' and there is a theory that the river got its name from this habit of burrowing underground. At almost any one of these numerous 'swallows' the river can quite easily be crossed, and a considerable diminution of its stream, though perhaps not a true 'swallow,' is to be found at the point I indicate. Again, that all-important consideration in a new country--I mean the dryness of the soil over which a road passes--was very much helped by taking the more direct of the two lines. Ground with some slope to it, and always fairly dry, comes here on either side, close to the river. But down by Burford, on the western side, there is quite a little plain, which must have been marshy, and for all I know, may be so still. Moreover, we shall find further on at Otford, and at Snodland, that the Old Road in crossing a valley always chooses a place where some spur of high land leads down to the river and corresponds to a dry rise immediately upon the other bank. Coupled with the fact that a direction such as I suggest makes a natural link between the two known parts of the road, being very nearly in one alignment with them, and remembering that Burford Bridge was built in connection with a very much later Roman way northward up the valley (it is evidently the Bridge of the Stane Street), that its direction and the place at which it crosses are obviously dependent on a north and south road, not on an east and west one, we decided to approach the eastern bank, and to see whether any existing trace of a road would support what seemed to us the most tenable hypothesis. It cannot be pretended that any very distinct evidence clinched what remains, after all, our mere theory; but there was enough to convince us, at least, and I believe to convince most people, who will do as we did, and stand upon the Old Road at the base of Box Hill looking towards Denbies on the other side of the valley. He will see, following a very obvious course, a certain number of yews of great age, remaining isolated in the new-ploughed land. These, leading across the river, are continued at a very slight angle by a definite alignment of three trees, equally isolated though far less old, standing equally in comparatively modern cultivated land, and leading directly to the place where the track is lost at its exit from Denbies Park; and the whole line follows two spurs of land which approach the river from either side. A conclusion thus reached cannot pretend to such a value as I would demand for the rest of our reconstructions: such as, for instance, can legitimately be demanded for the way in which we filled the gap at Puttenham. But it is far more convincing on the spot, and with the evidence before one (such as it is), than any verbal description can make it, and I would repeat that any one making the experiment with his own eyes will be inclined to agree with us. When we had arrived at this decision in the first hour of daylight we turned eastward, and pursued our way by the raised and yew-lined track which was now quite unmistakable, and which we could follow for a considerable time without hesitation. It ran straight along the 300-feet contour-line, and took the southern edge of a wood called Brockham Warren. Here for a short way we went through a stately but abandoned avenue, with the climbing woods up steep upon our left, and on our right a little belt of cover, through which the fall of the slope below us and the more distinct Weald and sandy hills could be seen in happy glimpses. When we came out upon the further side and found the open Down again, we had doubled (as it were) the Cape of Boxhill, and found ourselves in a new division of the road. FOOTNOTES: [23] The field is unnumbered in the 25-inch Ordnance, but the diagonal can be given as going to the NW. corner of the two-acre plot and cottage, marked 121 in the 1/2500 map for Surrey (XXXII. 1), and forming a detached part of the parish of Shere. [24] The spot where the Old Road is recovered again beyond the plough may be identified on the 1/2500 map for Surrey (XXXII. 4.) It is the north-west corner of the field marked 147, just at the Chalk Pit. [25] The course of this portion may be traced on the 1/2500 Ordnance (Surrey, XXV. 15) as follows:--Under the old quarry just east of the lime pits, right across the seventy-five acre field marked 42 (which forms the spur), over the railway line and the London Road bridge, and crossing the Mole a few yards north of Pixham Mill. Then right across plot marked 75 to the westernmost isolated tree in plot 74. At this point the Old Road is traceable again. BOXHILL TO TITSEY _Eighteen miles_ After one turns the corner of Box Hill and enters this new division of the road is a great lime pit, which is called Betchworth Pit, and next to it a similar work, not quite as large, but huge enough to startle any one that comes upon it suddenly over the edge of the Downs. Between them they make up the chief landmark of the county. We had already come across the first working of this kind shortly after we had recovered the Old Road beyond Gomshall, but that and the whole succeeding chain of pits were now disused, grown over with evergreens and damp enormous beeches. We had found a more modern excavation of the sort at the end of Denbies Park: it was called the Dorking Lime Works. Here, however, in these enormous pits, we came to something different and new. I looked up at their immensity and considered how often I had seen them through the haze: two patches of white shining over the Weald to where I might be lying on the crest of my own Downs, thirty miles away. It is the oldest, perhaps, of the industries of England. Necessary for building, an excellent porous stratum in the laying of roads, the best of top-dressings for the stiff lands that lie just beneath in the valley, chalk and the lime burnt from it were among the first of our necessities. Its value must have come even before stone building or made roads or the plough; it furnished the flints which were the first tools and weapons; it ran very near by the healthy green-sand where our earliest ancestors built their huts all along the edges of their hunting-ground, the Weald, on ridges now mostly deserted, and dark for the last three hundred years with pines. The chalk, which I have spoken of coldly when I discussed the preservation of the Old Road, should somewhere be warmly hymned and praised by every man who belongs to south England, for it is the meaning of that good land. The sand is deserted since men learnt to plough; the Weald, though so much of its forest has fallen, is still nothing but the Weald--clay, and here and there the accursed new towns spreading like any other evil slime. But the chalk is our landscape and our proper habitation. The chalk gave us our first refuge in war by permitting those vast encampments on the summits. The chalk filtered our drink for us and built up our strong bones; it was the height from the slopes of which our villages, standing in a clear air, could watch the sea or the plain; we carved it--when it was hard enough; it holds our first ornaments; our clear streams run over it; the shapes and curves it takes and the kind of close rough grass it bears (an especial grass for sheep), are the cloak of our counties; its lonely breadths delight us when the white clouds and the flocks move over them together; where the waves break it into cliffs, they are the characteristic of our shores, and through its thin coat of whitish mould go the thirsty roots of our three trees--the beech, the holly, and the yew. For the clay and the sand might be deserted or flooded and the South Country would still remain, but if the Chalk Hills were taken away we might as well be the Midlands. These pits which uncover the chalk bare for us show us our principal treasure and the core of our lives, and show it us in grand façades, steep down, taking the place of crags and bringing into our rounded land something of the stern and the abrupt. Every one brought up among the chalk pits remembers them more vividly than any other thing about his home, and when he returns from some exile he catches the feeling of his boyhood as he sees them far off upon the hills. Therefore I would make it a test for every man who boasted of the South Country, Surrey men (if there are any left), and Hampshire men, and men of Kent (for they must be counted in): I would make it a test to distinguish whether they were just rich nobodies playing the native or true men to see if they could remember the pits. For my part I could draw you every one in my country-side even now. Duncton, where the little hut is, surrounded by deep woods, Amberley, Houghton, which I have climbed with a Spaniard, and where twice the hounds have gone over and have been killed, Mr. Potter's pit, down which we hunted a critic once, the pit below Whiteways, Bury Pit, and Burpham, and all the older smaller diggings, going back to the beginning, and abandoned now to ivy and to trees. I know them and I love them all. The chalk gives a particular savour to the air, and I have found it good to see it caked upon my boots after autumn rains, or feel it gritty on my hands as I spread them out, coming in to winter fires. All this delays me on the Old Road, but the pits can be given a meaning, even in research such as that upon which we were engaged. The chalk hills, from Betchworth here right on to the Medway, have many such bites taken out of them by man, and there is this peculiarity about them, that very many of them cut into and destroy the Old Road. I think it not fantastic to find for such a repeated phenomenon an explanation which also affords a clue to difficult parts of the way. The Old Road being originally the only track along these hills was necessarily the base of every pit that should be dug. Along it alone could the chalk be carried, or the lime when it was baked, and it was necessary for the Britons, the Romans, and their successors to make the floor of the lime pit upon a level with this track. Later when the valley roads were developed and the Old Road was no longer continuously used, it was profitable to sink the cutting further, below the level of the Old Road, and, indeed, as far as the point where the chalk comes to mix with the sand or clay of the lower level. As the Old Road grew more and more neglected the duty of protecting it was forgotten, and the exploitation of the pits at last destroyed it at these points. Nevertheless, its line was quite easy to recover, across these Betchworth pits, though they are the largest cuttings in the county; later on we found no difficulty across the smaller ones near Otford and at Merstham. It is even true that the pits afforded a guide in one or two cases where we were in doubt what path to follow, and that our hypothesis according to which the pits naturally arose upon the track of the Old Road confirmed itself by discovering the way to us in more than one ambiguity. Portions of the road remain even along the great Betchworth pits. These portions reappear at the same level, wherever the pits have left a crag of the old hillside standing, and when one gets to the point just above Betchworth station and to the cottages of the workmen, the path reappears quite plainly. It follows the hillside at a level of about 400 feet, falls slightly below this contour-line to round the projecting spur of Brockham Hill, comes down to the high-road (the main road to London through Tadworth), follows it a couple of hundred yards, and leaves it to climb the hill at a point just south of the place where the 1-inch Ordnance map marks the height of 353 feet.[26] Here there is a combe known as 'Pebble Combe.' The Old Road does not go round the combe but straight across its mouth, and begins to assume a character so new as to perplex us for a considerable time in our search. We did not understand the nature of the change until we had very carefully traced the path for more than another mile. I will explain the difficulty. The escarpment of the hills is here extremely steep. It falls at an angle which could not conveniently support a road, or at least could not support it without such engineering work as primitive men would have been incapable of performing, and this steep bit lasts without interruption from just east of Pebble Combe right away to the height above Reigate which is known as Quarry Hill. Now, if the road could not be supported upon the bank of the escarpment, and yet desired--as it always must--to escape the damp land of the lower levels, it was bound to seek the crest. Nowhere hitherto in all this march from Winchester had we found it attempting the summits of the hills, but there were here unmistakable evidences that it was going to approach those summits and to keep to them as long as the steepness of the escarpment lasted. Our inexperience made us hesitate a long while; but at last we saw, in a line of old yews above us, an indication that the hill was to be climbed, and on going up close to those yews we found that they ran along a platform which was the trodden and levelled mark of the Old Road, running here in a form precisely similar to that which we had found round Box Hill. [Illustration] Once we had thus recovered it, it did not fail us. Within half a mile it climbed sideways along the hillside from that point, 353 feet above the sea, which I have mentioned, to the neighbourhood of the 600-feet contour-line which here marks the edge of the range; and this line it follows with a slight rise corresponding to the rise of the crest all the way to what are known as the Buckland Hills, and the high knot which just tops the 700 feet near Margery Wood.[27] To the north and to the south of this, at Walton Heath on the plateau above, and at Colley Farm in the valley below, there had been discoveries of Roman and of pre-Roman things; but though they pointed to its neighbourhood, these relics would not of themselves have given us the exact line of the road; that was furnished by the broad and unmistakable track which it had itself impressed upon the chalk from the usage of so many hundred years. It was slow work here. Much of it ran through dense brushwood, where one had to stoop and push aside the branches, and all of it was damp, shaded from the sun by the mass of old yews, and less well drained on this flat edge and summit than it is on the hillside where it usually hangs. But though it is a difficult two miles, the path is discoverable all the way. With Margery Wood it reaches the 700-feet line, runs by what I fear was a private path through a newly-enclosed piece of property. We remembered to spare the garden, but we permitted ourselves a trespass upon this outer hollow trench in the wood which marked our way. A magnificent bit of open ground, from which we saw below us the sandy hills, and beyond, the whole of the Weald, led us on to a point where the Old Road once again corresponds with a modern and usable, though unmetalled and very dirty lane. This is the lane which runs to the south of the park of Margery Hall. It skirts to the north the property recently acquired by the War Office, and when it has passed the War Office boundary-stone it is carried across the high-road from Reigate to London by a suspension bridge, which must surely be the only example in Europe of so modern an invention serving to protect the record of so remote a past. Nor would there be any need for such a suspension bridge had not the London Road in the early part of the nineteenth century been eased in its steepness by a deep cutting, to cross which the suspension bridge was made. That bridge, once passed, the road pointed straight to the lodge of Gatton, and pursued its way through that park to the further lodge upon the eastern side.[28] Here should be submitted some criticism of the rather vague way in which the place-names of this district have been used by those who had preceded us in the reconstruction of the Pilgrim's Way. Reigate, which was Churchfell at the Conquest, has been imagined to take its later title from the Old Road. Now the name, like that of Riggate in the north country, means certainly the passage near the road; but Reigate lay well below in the valley. True, the pilgrims, and many generations before them, must have come down to this point to sleep, as they came down night after night to so many other points, stretched along the low land below the Old Road in its upland course from the Wey to the Stour. So common a halting-place was it in the later Middle Ages that the centre of Reigate town, the place where the Town Hall now stands, held the chapel of St. Thomas from perhaps the thirteenth century to the Reformation. But Reigate no more than Maidstone, another station of the medieval pilgrimage, could have stood on the Old Road itself. It may be another track which gives Reigate its name. Some Roman by-way which may have run from Shoreham (which the experts do not believe to have been a port), right through the Weald to Reigate, and so to London. [Illustration: AND BEYOND, THE WHOLE OF THE WEALD] It is possible that a way from the Portus Adurni[29] to London ran here by Reigate and climbed the hill above; one of those fingers reaching to the ports of the south coast, of which the Stane Street, the Watling Street, and perhaps the fragment further east by Marden, are the remnants: moreover, in the existence of such a road I think one can solve the puzzle of Gatton. Gatton, which is now some three or four houses and a church and a park, sent two members to Parliament, from the fifteenth century until the Reform Bill. It was therefore at some time, for some reason, a centre of importance, not necessarily for its population but as a gathering-place or a market, or a place from which some old town had disappeared. Indeed a local tradition of such a town survives. One may compare the place with that other centre, High Cross, where is now the lonely crossing of the Fosse Way and Watling Street in Leicestershire. Now, what would have given this decayed spot its importance long ago? Most probably the crossing of an east and west road (the Old Road) with another going north and south, which has since disappeared. The influence of vested interests (for Gatton Park fetched twice its value on account of this anachronism) preserved the representation in the hands of one man until the imperfect reform of seventy years ago destroyed the Borough. There is another point in connection with the Pilgrim's Way at Gatton. For the second time since it has left Winchester it goes to the north of a hill. At Albury it did so, as my readers have seen, for some reason not to be explained. In every other case between here and Canterbury the explanation is simple. It goes north to avoid a prominent spur in the range and a re-entrant angle at the further side. The map which I append will make this point quite clear. [Illustration] For precisely the same cause it goes north of the spur south of Caterham and much further on, some miles before Canterbury, it goes north of the spur in Godmersham Park. We did not here break into another man's land, but were content to watch, from the public road outside, the line of the way as it runs through Gatton, and when we had so passed round outside the park we came to the eastern lodge, where the avenue runs on the line of the Old Road. Here the public lane corresponds to the Pilgrim's Way and passes by the land where was made a find of Roman and British coins, close to the left of the road. After this point the road went gently down the ridge of the falling crest. This was precisely what we later found it doing at Godmersham, where also it climbs a crest and goes behind a spur, and having done so follows down the shoulder of the hill to the lower levels of the valley. The valley or depression cutting the hills after Gatton is the Merstham Gap, by which the main Brighton Road and the London and Brighton Railway cross the North Downs. The Old Road goes down to this gap by a path along the side of a field, is lost in the field next to it, but is recovered again just before the grounds of Merstham House; it goes straight on its way through these grounds, and passes south of Merstham House and just _south_ of Merstham church; then it is suddenly lost in the modern confusion of the road and the two railway cuttings which lie to the east. We left it there and went down to Merstham inn for food, and saw there a great number of horsemen all dressed alike, but of such an accent and manner that we could not for the life of us determine to what society they belonged. Only this was certain, that they were about to hunt some animal, and that this animal was not a fox. With reluctance we abandoned that new problem and returned to Merstham church to look for the road from the spot where it had disappeared. So to have lost it was an annoyance and a disturbance, for the point was critical. We had already learnt by our experience of the way between Dorking and Reigate, that when the escarpment is too steep to bear a track the Old Road will mount to the crest, and we saw before us, some two miles ahead, that portion of the Surrey hills known as Whitehill or (on the slopes) Quarry Hangers, where everything pointed to the road being forced to take the crest of the hill. The escarpment is there extremely steep, and is complicated by a number of sharp ridges with little intervening wedges of hollow, which would make it impossible for men and animals to go at a level halfway up the hillside. The Old Road then, certainly, had to get to the crest of these Downs before their steepness had developed. On the other hand the top of the crest was a stiff and damp clay which lasted up to the steep of Quarry Hangers. The pilgrims of the Middle Ages probably went straight up the hill from Merstham by an existing track, got on to this clay, and followed Pilgrim's Lane along the crest--some shrine or house of call attracted them. The prehistoric road would certainly not have taken the clay in this fashion. On every analogy to be drawn from the rest of its course it would climb the hill at a slow slant, keeping to the chalk till it should reach the summit at some point where the clay had stopped and the slope below had begun to be steep. The problem before us was to discover by what line it climbed. And the beginning of the climb that would have given us the whole alignment was utterly lost, as I have said, in this mass of modern things, roads, railways, and cuttings, which we found just after Merstham church. We walked along the road which leads to Rockshaw, and along which certain new villas have been built. We walked slowly, gazing all the time at the fields above us, to the north and the hillside, and searching for an indication of our path. The first evidence afforded us was weak enough. We saw a line of hedge running up the hill diagonally near the 400-feet contour-line, and climbing slowly in such a direction as would ultimately point to the crest of the Quarry Hangers. Then we noticed the lime works, called on the map 'Greystone Lime Works,' which afforded us a further clue. We determined to make by the first path northward on to the hillside, and see if we could find anything to follow. Such a path, leading near a cottage down a slight slope and the hill beyond, appeared upon our left when we had covered about three quarters of a mile of road from Merstham. We took it and reached the hedge of which I have spoken. Once there, although no very striking evidence was presented to us, there was enough to make us fairly certain of the way. A continuous alignment of yew, hedge, and track, appeared behind us, coming straight, as it should do, from Merstham church and right _across_ the old lime pit; before us it continued to climb diagonally the face of the hill. Lost under the plough in more than one large field, it always reappeared in sufficient lengths to be recognised, and gained the crest at last at a point which just missed the end of the clay, and was also just over the beginning of the Quarry Hangers steep.[30] Once arrived at the summit of Quarry Hangers we found the road to be quite clear: a neat embankment upon the turf; and when, half a mile beyond, we came to the cross-roads and the tower, we had reached a part of the Pilgrim's Way which, though short, had already been settled and did not need to detain us. It corresponds with the modern lane, goes just north of the spur known as Arthur's Seat (a spur upon the southern side of which stands a prehistoric camp), goes up over the summit of Gravelly Hill (where it is the same as a modern road now in the making), and at last strikes Godstone Woods just at the place where a boundary-stone marks the corner of another little patch of land belonging the War Office. On the further side of this patch of land, which is a kind of isolated cape or shoulder in the hills, runs a very long, deep combe, which may be called Caterham Combe. Up this ran one of the Roman roads from the south, and up this runs to-day the modern road from Eastbourne to London. On the steep side of that precipitous ravine, which is a regular bank of difficult undergrowth (called Upwood Scrubbs), the Old Road was, as we had rightly expected from our previous study of the map, very hopelessly lost. It is a difficult bit. Had the road followed round the outer side of the hill it would have been much easier to trace, but crossing as it does to the north of the summit, in order to avoid the re-entrant angle of Arthur's Seat, it has disappeared. For the damper soil upon that side, and the absence of a slope into which it could have cut its impression, has destroyed all evidence of the Old Road. One can follow it in the form of a rough lane up to the second of the War Office landmarks. After that it disappears altogether. When one considers the condition of the terrain immediately to the east, the loss is not to be marvelled at. The hillside of Upwood Scrubbs falls very steeply into the valley by which the modern high-road climbs up to Caterham. It is an incline down which not even a primitive road would have attempted to go, and when one gets to the valley below the whole place is so cut up with the modern road, the old Roman road a little way to the east, and the remnants of a quarry just beyond, that it would have been impossible in this half-mile for the trace of the Pilgrim's Way to be properly preserved. I will, however, make this suggestion: that it descended the hillside diagonally going due NE. from the summit to the old gravel pit at the bottom, that then it curved round under the steep bank which supports Woodlands House, that is Dialbank Wood, went north of Quarry Cottage, and so reached the face of the hill again where the lane is struck which skirts round the southern edge of Marden Park. This, I say, will probably be found to be the exact track; but it is quite certain that the Way cannot have run more than a couple of hundred yards away from this curve. It cannot have been cut straight across the valley, for the steepness of the valley-side forbids that, and, on the other hand, there would have been no object in going much further up the valley than was necessary in order to save the steep descent. At any rate, the gap is quite short and the road is easily recovered after the combe and the high-road are passed; it is thence identical with the lane I have spoken of above. This lane is called Flower Lane. It follows the 600-feet contour-line and winds therefore exactly round the outline of the hill. It passes the lodge of Marden Park, and within a few hundred yards comes to a place where the modern road bifurcates. The good macadamised lane goes straight on and somewhat downwards towards the plain. Another, less carefully made, begins to wind up the hill above one. From this point onward the Old Road takes again to the rough ground. [Illustration] There lies just before one on the hillside a wood, called 'The Hanging Wood.' We skirted the south edge of this wood and found beyond it a field in which the track is lost;[31] nor was the task of recovering it an easy one, for the light was just failing, and here, as always where cultivation has risen above the old level, the Old Road is confused and destroyed. We had, however, over these few yards an excellent clue. In a wood called 'The Rye Wood' just in front of us the track of the Old Road is not only clearly marked, but has been preserved by local traditions. For this NW. corner of the Rye Wood we made, through the south of the spinney called 'Hogtrough Spinney.' Just beyond the Rye Wood, the hillside is pierced by a deep railway cutting which is the entrance to Oxted Tunnel. This cutting comes right across the line of the Old Road. We made for this point (which is a few yards north of the first bridge), but when we reached it, it was quite dark, and if we had covered in that day but eighteen miles or so, it must be remembered how much of our time had been spent in the perpetual checks of this division.[32] We reluctantly determined, then, to abandon the hillside for that evening, and to go down to the plain and sleep. The nearest place of hospitality was Oxted. We made for that village in the darkness, stumbling along the railway-line, and in the inn we met a third companion who had come to join us, and who would accompany us now as far as Canterbury. When we had eaten and drunk wine, and had had some quarrelling with a chance traveller who suffered terribly from nerves, we left our entertainment. We slept, and the next morning, before it was light, we all three set out together, taking the northern road towards the hill. FOOTNOTES: [26] It is possible that it goes _over_ the spur of Brockham Hill. The track is not at all clear for these few yards. [27] Here our track is quite different from that given in the 1/2500 Ordnance map for Surrey (XXVI. 10), where it is carried along the base of the hill past Buckland Lime Pits. The Ordnance map practically confesses its error, for in the succeeding sheet (XXVI. 11) the Pilgrim's Way reappears suddenly in its right place, at the top of the crest. It is easy for any one who has walked the road to see how this part of it was neglected. It is overgrown with a thick growth, and most of it, though quite plain, is not seen till you are right upon it. [28] The 1/2500 Ordnance map for Surrey (XXVI. 11) gives the road as going outside the Park. This is an error. It destroys the alignment altogether. The true course of it is: Enters Gatton Park south of the upper lodge, passes through the trees to the left of the carriage drive, forms part of this drive towards bottom of hill near middle lodge. Then enters wood north of Gatton Tower, and appears as terrace along side of hill. Then appears again in avenue leading to east lodge, and so out of the Park. [29] It is denied that the _Portus Adurni_ was Shoreham: but then, everything is denied. [30] On the 1/2500 Ordnance map for Surrey (XXVII. 5) this track may be followed thus: Along the top of Ockley Wood, across the large fields marked 192 and 189 (rising slightly), and reaching summit towards NE. corner of the next field (168). [31] This field is marked 2 in the 1/2500 Ordnance map for Surrey (XXVII. 8). [32] The conjecture of the 6-inch Ordnance map for Surrey, that the road plunged down on to the plain before Gravelly Hill, and stayed there till it reappeared again in the Eye Wood, may be dismissed for the following reasons:--(1) There is no trace of it nor of any footpath or trench the whole way; (2) the Old Road never goes into the plain (save to cross a valley) at any other point; (3) the arbitrary straight line in the Ordnance map perversely clings to a very narrow belt of stiff gault! (4) there is no drainage slope on this line; (5) there is no view of the track before one such as is maintained as far as possible throughout the Old Road. The conjecture appears to be based upon nothing more than the name, 'Palmer's Wood,' at the turning point of this supposed track. TITSEY TO WROTHAM _Sixteen miles_ Beyond the railway-cutting, the road is recovered, as I have said, by tradition and by a constant use which lasted almost to our own time.[33] It goes beneath the large wood which here clothes the hill, and after a partial loss in the field next the park, leads up to the farm known as 'Limpsfield Lodge Farm'; it comes to the paling of the park just north of the farm. Across Titsey Park the track of the road is clear, and its interest is the greater from the anxiety which the owners of the place have shown to discover its antiquities. A little off the Way, at the base of the hill, was discovered in 1867 a Roman villa, situated thus (as at Walton Heath, at Colley Hill, at Bletchingly, as later on at Burham, or, to take a remote instance, as in the case of the Roman village on the Evenlode, or again, that at Bignor) not right on the road itself, but from a quarter to half a mile off it. So the heirs of the Roman owners, the feudal lords, built their manor-houses off the roads and led to them by short perpendicular ways and avenues such as you may still see approaching half the French chateaux to-day. It is probable (to guess at matters of which there is no proof) that while this road, serving no strategical purpose, leading to no frontier, and communicating between no two official centres of Roman life, was not used in the official system, the country people continued to make it one of their main ways, and that in the profound peace which the southern civilisation had imposed, the rich built for pleasure or to superintend their farms, along what was nothing but a British way. Henceforward antiquities of every kind were to meet us as we advanced, because the Old Road on its way to the Straits gained importance with every ten miles of its way. Tributary roads continually fell into it: one had come in long ago at Alton, from Portsmouth and the Meon valley; at Farnham, a second had joined, which as the reader knows was probably older than the Old Road itself; others at the Guildford gap, others from the Weald and from the north as well at Dorking, another at Gatton, another at the Caterham Road: and each would swell the traffic and the movement upon this principal line of advance towards the Straits of Dover. More were to come. One of the highest importance (for it led from London along the valley of the Darent) was to join us at Otford; the last and perhaps the greatest, beyond the Medway, in the stretch before Boxley. With each of these the importance and the meaning of the road developed, and the increasing crowd of memories or records was like a company coming in on either side to press on with us to Canterbury. Before leaving Titsey Park, the Old Road showed another of its characteristics in passing again just south of the site where the old church once stood; thenceforward for many miles it becomes a good modern lane, pursuing its way without deviation for five miles due east along the slope of the hills. Of this part, as of all such sections of our way, where a modern road coincides with the prehistoric way, there is little to be said. The level was not high, nor the vale immediately beneath us broad. Above us from the main ridge was granted, I knew by many journeys, that great vision: the whole southern plain, and above the near sand-hills, at one sweep, half the county of Sussex. But the matter of our journey forbade the enjoyment of such a sight, just as the matter of my book forbids me to speak of the very entertaining people of all kinds who came across us during these days and days, especially in the inns. The road continues thus, following a contour between four and five hundred feet above sea-level, crosses the Kentish Border, and remains a good, well-kept lane, until it reaches the border of Chevening Park. The right-of-way along the road across the park (where, of course, it has ceased to be a lane, and is no more than an indication upon the turf) has ceased since the passing of an Act of Parliament in the late eighteenth century, which Act diverts the traveller to the south, round the enclosure. But the direction taken by the Old Road across this ground is fairly evident until the last few hundred yards. On the eastern side of the Park it is continued for about 200 yards as a footpath. It is then lost under the plough; but a lane, some seven furlongs further on to the east, recovers the alignment,[34] and leads straight on to the crossing of the Darent, down just such a spur as marked the crossing of the Mole, while above us went a flanking road, marked by stunted trees, on the windy edge of the Downs. Following it thus we passed the northernmost of the two railway arches, went down the hill a mile or so, crossed the plain that was till recently marshy and difficult, and entered the village of Otford by the bridge and over the ford whereby, certainly since Edmund Ironside, and probably for many thousands of years before that, men had come to it. Indeed, here, where the Old Road falls into the valley of the Darent, its importance in recorded history, which had been growing steadily as we went eastward, was suddenly increased for us, and the cause was the reception at this point of its tributary from London. From Otford the Old Road becomes strategic. It is the road by which marched the defending forces when invasion was threatened from the Thames estuary. It becomes hierarchic; the power of Canterbury seizes it; and it becomes royal, perpetually recalling the names and at last the tyranny of the kings. The battle against the invader, the king's progress to the sea, the hold of the Church upon the land it traverses, fill all the final marches from the crossing of the Darent to that of the Stour. Something of military history as at Alton, at Farnham, and just down the Stane Street at Anstie Bury, had attached even to the earlier part of so ancient a way--but from Otford onward it is greatly emphasised. As one comes down from the chalk pit above the river one is crossing what is probably the site of Edmund Ironside's great and successful struggle with the Danes in 1016, when he defeated Canute and drove him across the river, and pursued the rout mile upon mile to Aylesford. Half a mile further down on the plain, just before you get into the village, is the field where Offa is said to have achieved the supremacy of England by the conquest of Kent in 773. It is only a doubtful bit of tradition, but it is worth recording that one more battle was fought here--as the populace believed--in the very first struggle of all--in the legendary fifth century. It is said that the Saxons were defeated here by the British, and that they also retreated towards Aylesford. Canterbury had shown its influence long before this valley. We had seen the chapels and had but just left Brasted, whose allegiance to the archbishop was old beyond all record. But from Otford onward the power of the See became peculiar and more definite. First there was the string of great palaces, Otford, Wrotham, Maidstone, Charing: Otford, Wrotham, and Charing especially, standing as they did directly upon the Old Road and created by it. We saw them all. They are in ruins. Their authority, their meaning, had been suddenly destroyed. No one had claimed or supported their enormous walls. The new landlords of the Reformation, the swarm, the Cecils and the Russells and the rest, seem for once to have felt some breath of awe. The palaces were permitted to die. I imagined as I saw them one by one that the few stones remaining preserved a certain amplitude and magnificence; it may have been nothing but the fantasy of one who saw them thus for the first time, his mind already held for so many days by the antiquity of the Road. They are forgotten. They were great for their time. Their life was intense. The economic power of the throne and of the chief altar in England ran through them. Otford at Domesday had its hundred small farms, its six mills; it was twice the size of Westerham. Wrotham and Charing, somewhat less, were yet (with Maidstone) the chief centres of Kent south of the Downs. And apart from the See the Church in general held all the line. At Boxley, eldest daughter of Waverley, Clairvaux and the spirit of St. Bernard showed; it became as great as the palaces. Hollingbourne, fifty years before the Conquest, had been granted to St. Augustine's, a hundred years before that Lenham to Christchurch. The connection of Charing with Canterbury was so old that men believed their 'Vortigern' to have dedicated its land, and the church could show, even of writing, a parchment older than Alfred by a hundred years. All these things had gone as utterly as the power to build and to think and to take joy in the ancient manner; the country-side we were treading held their principal and silent memorials. For upon all this--which was England and the people--had fallen first the crown and then the rich, but the crown had begun the devastation. I have said that from Otford the Old Road becomes royal, for it is at Otford that the road from Greenwich, after following the valley of the Darent, falls into the Pilgrim's Way. From Westminster by water to Greenwich, from Greenwich down here to Otford, and thence along the Old Road to the sea, had been a kind of sacred way, for the kings, who used as they went the great palaces of the Archbishops for their resting-places. By this road, last of so many, went Henry VIII. to the Field of the Cloth of Gold. It was an alternative to the straight road by Watling Street, and an alternative preferred from its age and dignity. Then came its ruin. The grip of the crown caught up all the string of towns and villages and palaces and abbeys. You see the fatal date, '20th November, 29th Henry VIII.' recurring time and time again. Otford is seized, Wrotham is seized, Boxley, Hollingbourne, Lenham, Charing, and with these six great bases, a hundred detached and smaller things: barns, fields, mills, cells--all the way along this wonderful lane the memory of the catastrophe is scarred over the history of the country-side like the old mark of a wound, till you get to poor Canterbury itself and find it empty, with nothing but antiquarian guesses to tell you of what happened to the shrine and the bones of St. Thomas. The Holy Well at Otford, its twin at Burham, the rood of Boxley, the block of Charing were trampled under. The common people, first apathetic, then troubled,--lastly bereft of religion, lost even the memory of the strong common life as the old men died; sites which had been sacred ever since men had put up the stones of Addington or Trottescliffe, or worshipped Mithra on the bank of the Medway, or put the three monoliths of Kit's Coty House together to commemorate their chief, or raised the hundred stones--all these were utterly forgotten. It was not enough in this revolution that the Church should perish. The private lands of the most subservient were not safe--Kemsing, for example. It was the Manor of Anne Boleyn's father: it may be imagined what happened to such land. I know of no district in England where the heavy, gross, and tortured face of Henry in his decline haunts one more. Sacredness is twofold--of pleasure and pain--and this, the sacred end of our oldest travel, suffered in proportion to its sanctity. * * * * * When we had passed the Darent at Otford and climbed the hill beyond, we came upon a section of the road which might be taken as a kind of model of its character along these hills. It is a section six miles long, beginning upon the hillside just above Otford station and ending near the schoolhouse above Wrotham. But in this short distance it gives examples of nearly all the points which it is the business of this book to describe. There is indeed no part of it here which requires to be sought out and mapped. The whole is known and has a continuous history; and such certitude is the more valuable in a typical division, because it permits us to deduce much that can elsewhere be applied to the less known portions of the road. The Old Road runs here (as throughout nearly the whole of its course between Dorking and Canterbury) up on the bare hillside above the valley. The road appears, as one walks it, to run at the same level all along the hillside, but really it is rising as the floor of the valley rises, in order to keep continuously at the same distance above it. Its lowest point is not much under 300 feet, but its highest is just over 500. Immediately below it lies that string of habitations which everywhere marks its course, and between which it was originally the only means of communication. Just as Bletchingly, Reigate, Limpsfield, Westerham, Brasted, and the rest stood below its earlier course, and just as in its further part we shall find Hollingbourne, Harrietsham, Lenham and Charing, so here there runs a little succession of hamlets, churches, and small towns, which are the centres of groupings of arable land in the valley floor, while above them the Pilgrim's Road follows just above the margin of cultivation. Their names are Kemsing, Heaverham, St. Clere, Yaldham, and at last Wrotham. The section further gives an admirable example of the way in which the Old Road was gradually replaced. [Illustration] These six miles of its length may, for the purpose of the illustration they afford, be divided into three nearly equal parts by the village of Kemsing, and the hamlet of Yaldham. Each of these divisions shows the Old Road in one of its three historical phases: first as the only artery of the country-side, then as an alternative way supplemented by a valley road, and finally as a decayed and unused path whose value has been destroyed by the more modern highway below it. It is astonishing to see with what precision each of these phases is shown, how exactly each division ends, and how thoroughly the character of each is maintained. In the first, from Otford to Kemsing, a distance of about two miles, one can see the two valley villages below one, and the track one follows is the only good road between them, though it lies above them both and can only be reached from either by a short rising lane. A short cut across the fields connects the two places, but if one wishes to use a proper and made way, there is none to take but that which still represents the Old Road, and so to go up out of Otford and then down into Kemsing. One has to do, in other words, exactly what was done for centuries when the archbishops came up to London from Canterbury; wherever one may desire to halt one has to leave the Old Road and come down from it to the village below. In the second part, between Kemsing and Yaldham, the modern influence has been sufficient to provide an alternative. The distance is somewhat more than two miles. The Pilgrim's Way runs up along the hillside, a metalled lane, while below in the valley the old footpaths and cart tracks have been united into a modern permanent road, and a man going from Kemsing through Heaverham to Yaldham need not take the Pilgrim's Road above as his ancestors would have had to do, but can go straight along the lower levels. Finally, with Yaldham and on to Wrotham the more common condition of modern times asserts itself. The lower valley road becomes the only important one, the Pilgrim's Road above dwindles into, first, a lane very little used and falling into decay, then a path thick with brambles and almost impassable. A man going from Yaldham to Wrotham nowadays is bound to use the modern valley road. When we had pushed through the brambles of the deserted path for perhaps a mile and a half, the way broadened out again, crossed the London Road, and turning the corner of the hill overlooked the church and roofs of Wrotham a hundred feet below. Of Wrotham, the second link in that chain of palaces which afforded shelter to the Archbishop and to the King, as the one journeyed to Lambeth, the other to the sea-coast, I have already spoken. I desire here to discuss rather the topographical interest of the corner upon which we stood and its connection with the prehistoric road which it was our principal business to examine. And for that purpose, though it occupied but the last part of a day, I would devote to a separate division the passage of the Medway which was now at hand. FOOTNOTES: [33] We owed our knowledge of this, as so much else, to Mrs. Adie's book, of which I wish to make continual acknowledgment. [34] The track here is well marked on the 1/2500 Ordnance map of Kent (XXVIII. 12, XXVIII. 16), first as a footpath (on field 73), then right across the small plantation to the east, past a clump of trees a little east of that (where it is marked by a distinct embankment), and so to the lane which has no local name, but bounds to the north the field numbered 19. WROTHAM TO BOXLEY _Eleven miles_ At Wrotham is a kind of platform, or rather shoulder, which is made by such a turning of the great chalk hills as I shall presently describe. This turning revealed to us the plain at our feet as we came round the corner of the hill and saw before us the whole valley of the Medway. We were perhaps some hundred feet above Wrotham and five hundred above the sea as we stood upon this platform before noon, and overlooked the great flats and the distant river and the further hills. It is a view of astonishing effect, such as I did not know to be in south England; for our rivers are small, and, exquisite as is their scenery, they do not commonly impress the mind with grandeur. The Medway, perhaps because it is the relic of some much greater river now drowned by the sinking of the land, perhaps because its tidal estuary lends it twice a day an artificial breadth, gives one the impression of those continental streams, the Seine or the Meuse, which are sufficient to animate a whole country-side, and which run in so wide a basin that a whole province attaches to their name. The manner of this landscape was that of a great gesture; its outline was like the movement of a hand that sketches a cartoon; its sweep was like the free arm of a sower sowing broadcast. The bank, moreover, upon which the Old Road here stands is so steep that it produces an effect of greater height and whatever expansion of the mind accompanies a wide horizon. There dominated that view a character of space and dignity which not even the Itchen valley from the heights, nor the Weald from the crest of the Surrey Downs, could equal. The crossings of the Wey, of the Mole, and of the Darent, the valleys which there interrupted the general line of our hillside road, seemed narrow and familiar as one gazed upon this much greater plain. Far off, miles and miles away, the hills continued their interminable line. The haze, and a certain warm quality in the winter light, added to the vastness of the air, and made the distant range seem as remote as a to-morrow; it was lost in a grey-blue that faded at last into a mere sky upon the extreme east. Along those hills our way was clearly to be continued. Their trend was not, indeed, due east and west as the Old Road had run so long: they turned a little southerly; but the general line, bending down to Canterbury and to the Straits, followed that crest, and its furthest visible height was not far distant from our goal. Just opposite us, upon the further side of the valley, was faintly to be discerned such another shoulder as that upon which we stood. We made it out upon our map to bear the good name of 'Grey Wethers,' as does that rock far off eastwards, out of which was built Stonehenge. Upon that shoulder had stood the abbey of Boxley. It marked the point where, beyond the valley, the Pilgrim's Way is recognised again. But in the interval between, across this broad flat valley, its passage had never been fixed. We might have thought, had we not hitherto learnt much of the Old Road, that no problem was there, save to cross in a direct line the valley before us, and make by evening that further shoulder of 'Grey Wethers,' where we should find the road again; but we had followed the track too long to think that it could so easily be recovered. We guessed that in so wide a gap as was here made by the Medway in the line of hills a difficulty, greater than any we had yet met, would arise, and that we should not overcome it without a longer search than had been necessary at the Wey or even the Mole. We were now familiar with such platforms and such views. Upon a lesser scale we had felt their meaning when we stood upon the rock of St. Catherine's at evening and considered the crossing of the Wey; or on that other spur, eastward of Dorking, when we had seen Box Hill beyond the valley under the growing night. They also, the men long before us, had chosen such particular places from whence to catch the whole of a day's march, and to estimate their best opportunity for getting to the further shore. We knew how difficult it was to trace again their conclusion, and to map out the Old Road in places like these. To debate its chances and draw up the main line of our decision, we went down into Little Wrotham, and at an inn there which is called the 'Bull,' we ate beef and drank beer, spoke with men who knew the fords and the ferries, compared our maps with a much older one belonging to the place, and in general occupied our minds with nothing but the passage of the river: the passage, that is, which alone concerned us; the place where men, when men first hunted here, fixed their crossing-place, and carried the Old Road across the tide-way of the stream. * * * * * Now, having said so much of the landscape, it is necessary to turn to the more minute task of topography. For it is the business of this book not to linger upon the pleasures of our journey, but to reconstitute an ancient thing. And for that purpose a simple sketch-map will explain perhaps as much as words can do. The features of this map are very few, but their comprehension will be sufficient for my readers to grasp the matter upon which we are engaged. [Illustration] A single heavy line indicates the crest of the hills--a crest from over six hundred to over seven hundred feet in height. A dotted line indicates the limit of what may be called the floor of the valley. The brackets )( show the four possible crossings of the river. Two points, numbered _A_ and _B_, mark the 'shoulders' or platform. The first (_A_) above Wrotham, the second (_B_) at Grey Wethers. Finally, the megalithic monument at Coldrum and that near Grey Wethers (whose importance will be seen in a moment) are marked with circles. Far up the valley on each hill continues the remnant of an ancient road, and the reader will see from this, that, as in the valley of the Mole and of the Darent, our difficulties were confused and increased from the fact that, quite apart from the crossing of the river, other prehistoric tracks led off northwards upon either side of the river, whose crossing was our concern. The great main range of chalk which runs all across south-eastern England; the range whose escarpment affords for sixty miles a platform for the Old Road is broken, then, by the Medway, which cuts through it on its way to the sea. But there is not only a gap; it will be seen that the hills 'bend up,' as it were, upon either bank, and follow the stream northward, making a kind of funnel to receive it. The effect of this is best expressed by saying, that it is as though the Medway valley had been scooped out by a huge plough, which not only cut a five-mile gap in the range, but threw the detritus of such a cutting to left and right for miles beyond the point of its passage. It is at the mouth of this gap that the two shoulders or turning-places are to be found; one on the west at Wrotham, the other on the east at Grey Wethers: while beyond them the Downs turn northward either way, to sink at last into the flats of the Thames estuary. The interval between these 'shoulders' was the most considerable of any that had to be filled in all our exploration. The reason that this gap in the Old Road should be found at such a place was evident. It was here that the road had to cross the most important of the rivers it meets upon its course, the Medway. Alone of the rivers which obstruct the road, it is a tidal stream, and, as though in recognition of its superior claim, the hills receded from it more grandly than they had from the Wey at the Guildford, or the Mole at the Dorking passage. They left six miles of doubtful valley between them, and across these six miles a track had to be found. [Illustration: THE MOST IMPORTANT OF THE RIVERS IT MEETS UPON ITS COURSE, THE MEDWAY] A clear statement of the problem will lead one towards its solution. I have said that for several miles before Wrotham, the chalk hills, well defined and steep, running almost due east and west, present an excellent dry and sunny bank for the road. As one goes along this part of one's journey, Wrotham Hill appears like a kind of cape before one, because beyond it the hills turn round northward, and their continuation is hidden. I have also told how, a long way off, over the broad flat of the Medway valley, the range may be seen continuing in the direction of Canterbury, and affording, when once the river is crossed, a similar platform to that from which one is gazing. We knew, also, that the road does, as a fact, follow those distant hills, precisely as it had the range from which we made our observation, and if no physical obstacles intervened, the first travellers upon this track would undoubtedly have made a direct line from the projecting shoulder of Wrotham Hill to the somewhat less conspicuous turning-point which marks the further hills of Grey Wethers, where also Boxley once stood. But obstacles do intervene, and these obstacles were of the most serious kind for men who had not yet passed the early stages of civilisation. A broad river with a swift tidal current, flanked here and there (as tidal rivers always are before their embankment) by marshes; a valley floor of clay, the crossing of which must prove far more lengthy than that of any they had hitherto encountered, made the negotiation of this gap a difficult matter. Moreover, the direct line would have led them by the marshiest way of all: the fields of Snodland brook. Oddly enough the difficulty of rediscovering the original track by which the road forded the Medway, does not lie in the paucity of evidence, but rather in the confusion arising from its nature and amount. So great is this confusion that some authorities have been content to accept alternative routes at this point. Savage trails, however, never present alternatives so widely separate, and least of all will they present any alternative, even one neighbouring the main road, where a formidable obstacle has to be overcome: to do so would be to forfeit the whole value which a primitive road possesses as a guide (for this value depends upon custom and memory), and when a tidal river had to be traversed, a further and very cogent reason for a single track was to be found in the labour which its construction upon a marshy soil involved. If some one place of crossing had held a monopoly or even a pre-eminence within the limits of recorded history, the evidence afforded by it would be of the utmost value. But an indication of this simplicity is lacking. It is certain that within historic times and for many centuries continuously, the valley and the river were passed at four places, each of which now may lay a claim to be the original passage. The modern names of these places are, in their order from the sea, Cuxton, Lower Halling, Snodland, and Aylesford. Before proceeding I must repeat what was said above, that two tracks of great antiquity continue the Old Road northward on each side of the Medway far beyond any point where it would have crossed; these tracks (I have called them elsewhere 'feeders') are not only clearly defined, but have each received the traditional name of the Pilgrim's Way, and their presence adds a considerable complexity to the search for the original passage. So much of the elements of the problem being laid down, let us now recapitulate certain features which we have discovered to be true of the road in the earlier part of its course, where it had to cross a river, and certain other features which one knows to be common to other British track-ways over valleys broader than those of the Mole or the Wey. To these features we may add a few others, which are conjecturally those that such a road would possess although we might have no direct evidence of them. A list of these features will run very much as follows:-- (1) The road will attempt the shortest passage of the valley floor, the breadth being more or less of an obstacle, according as the soil is more or less low, covered, or damp. (2) It will seek for a ford. (3) Other things being equal, it would naturally cross a river as high up as possible, where the stream was likely to be less difficult to ford. (4) It would cross in as immediate a neighbourhood as possible to that height upon which survey could be made of the opportunities for crossing. (5) The nature of the bottom at the crossing would influence it greatly, whether that bottom were gravel and sand, or treacherous mud. Moreover, a primitive road would often leave evidence of its choice by the relics of good material thrown in to harden the ford. (6) A point of so much importance would probably be connected with religion, and almost always with some relic of habitation or weapons. (7) It would often preserve in its place-name some record of the crossing. (8) It would (as we had found it at Dorking and at Otford) choose a place where a spur on either side led down to the river. To these eight points may be added the further consideration, that whatever was the more usual crossing in early historic times affords something of a guide as to prehistoric habits, and, finally, that where a tidal river was concerned, the motives which were present on any river for seeking a passage as far up stream as possible would be greatly strengthened, for the tide drowns a ford. Now, in the light of what the map tells us, and of these principles, let us see where the crossing is most likely to be found, and having determined that, discover how far the hypothesis is supported by other evidence. To begin with Cuxton: At Cuxton the firm land of the hills comes upon either side close to the river. An ancient track-way upon either side leads very near to the point of crossing and cannot be followed, or at least nothing like so clearly followed further down the valley. At Cuxton, moreover, as a constant tradition maintains, the crossing of the river by pilgrims was common. On the other hand there is nothing approaching a ford at this place. The bottom is soft mud, the width of the river very considerable, the tidal current strong, and of all the points at which the river might have been crossed, it is the most distant from the direct line; indeed, compared with the next point, Lower Halling, a traveller would add five or six miles to his journey by choosing Cuxton. Now, consider Aylesford, the other extreme; the highest up as Cuxton is the lowest down the river of the four points. Aylesford has many powerful arguments in its favour. It has produced one of the most interesting and suggestive prehistoric relics in England: I mean that 'Aylesford pottery' which is an imitation, or possibly even an import, of the pottery of northern Italy in the first or second centuries before our area. It has furnished a mass of other antiquities: armillae of gold have been found in the river and British coins and graves on the northern bank. It preserves in the last part of its name the tradition of a ford, and though 'ford' in place-names by no means always signifies a ford any more than 'bridge' signifies a bridge, yet in this case we have historic knowledge that a ford existed; and (as is most frequently the case) the ford has been bridged. A further argument, and in its way one of the strongest that could be adduced, is the position of the place in the earliest of our annals. Whether 'the Horse and the Mare,' Vortigern, and the rest are wholly legendary or not, cannot be determined. Certainly the texture of the story is fabulous, but Bede and 'Nennius' have both retained the memory of a great battle fought here, in which the British overcame the Pirates, and what is most significant of all, the legend or memory records a previous retreat of the Saxons from a defeat at Otford. We know, therefore, that a writer in the seventh century, though what he was writing might be fable, would take it for granted that a retreat westward from Otford would naturally lead along some road which passed the Medway at Aylesford. We get another much later example of the same thing when Edmund Ironside, after his great victory at Otford over the Danes, pursued them to Aylesford, and was only prevented from destroying them by their passage over the river under the cover of treason. This is very strong evidence in favour of Aylesford, and when one remembers that the manor was ancient demesne, its antiquity and importance are enhanced. But against Aylesford there are three strong arguments. They are not only strong, they are insuperable. The first is the immense width of valley that would have to be crossed to reach it. That is, the immense tract of uncertain, wooded way, without a view either of enemies or of direction. The second is the clay. A belt of gault of greater or lesser width stretches all along the Downs just below the chalk. Here it is particularly wide, and no straight line can be taken from Wrotham to the Aylesford gravels without crossing nearly two miles of this wretched footing, which, throughout its course, the road has most carefully avoided. That a ford of great antiquity was there; that the men of the sandy heights used it; that the Romans used so admirable a ford (it is gravel near the river on either side), that they bridged it, that they made a causeway over the clay, and that this causeway and that bridge were continuously used after their time, I am willing to believe; but not that the prehistoric road along the chalk hills could have waded through all that clay to reach it, and have gone out of its way into the bargain. Thirdly, there is the clinching fact that a number of prehistoric remains, Kit's Coty House and the rest, lie to the _north_ of such a crossing, and that to reach Boxley itself, a site indubitably dependent upon the prehistoric road, a man crossing at Aylesford would have to turn _back_ upon his general direction. It must further be remembered that by the seventh century some of the valleys had acquired firm roads, inherited from the old civilisation, and that in the rout after a battle, an army making for a tidal river, and not able to choose their own time of crossing (as can a wayfarer), would certainly make for a point as far up the stream as possible and for a bridge. If Cuxton and Aylesford, then, are to be neglected (as I think they certainly must be), there remain only Lower Hailing and Snodland. At first sight the weight of argument is for Lower Halling, and if the various parts of such an argument as I adduce have different proportions from those I lend them, one might conclude that at Lower Halling was the original passage of the Medway. True, there is for the passage at Lower Halling but one evidence that I can discover, but it is an evidence of the greatest weight, and such an one as is often permitted alone to establish a conclusion in archæology. It is this, that there was good surface over the original soil from the Pilgrim's Way on the hills above, right down to the river-bank at this point. No clay intervenes between the chalk and gravel. The primitive traveller would have had fairly dry land all the way down to the river. Even beyond the river the belt of alluvial soil is less broad than it is at Snodland; and altogether, if the geological argument alone were considered, the decision undoubtedly would be given to this place. The claims of Snodland are asserted by a number of converging arguments. I will enumerate them, and it will, I think, be seen that though each is individually slight, the whole bundle is convincing. _First._--The spur, which leaves the main range of hills for the river (such a spur as has elsewhere, at Shalford, and at Dorking, and at Otford, attracted the Old Road towards the ford it points to), touches indeed both Snodland and Lower Halling on either side, but with this great difference--that Snodland is on the south, Lower Halling upon the north of the ridge. The elevation is not pronounced, the slope is slight, but a little experience of such ground at various seasons will determine one that the southern bank would be chosen under primitive conditions. In such a conformation the southern bank alone has during the winter any chance of drying, and in a dry summer, it matters little whether a slope be partly of clay[35] (as is the descent to Snodland) or of chalk (as is that to Lower Halling). During more than half the year, therefore, the descent to Snodland was preferable; during the other half indifferent. _Secondly._--Immediately before and beyond the Lower Halling crossing no antiquities of moment have been discovered: a grave, possibly Roman, is, I believe, the only one. At Snodland, and beyond its crossing, they are numerous. An ancient and ruined chapel marks the descent from the hills. The church itself has Roman tiles. Beyond the river, the Roman villa which was unearthed in 1896 by Mr. Patrick is precisely upon the road that would lead from such a crossing up to the Pilgrim's Way upon the hill. Close by the origin of this lane from the ford to the hillside were discovered the fragments of what some have believed to be a Mithraic temple; and earlier, in 1848, Roman urns and foundations were found near the road at Little Culand. _Thirdly._--The crossing at Snodland is shallower than that at Lower Halling, and (though I do not pretend that the artifice is prehistoric) the bottom has been artificially hardened. _Fourthly._--There stands at Snodland a church, past the _southern_ porch of which goes the road, and when the river is crossed, and the same alignment followed along the bank upon the further side for a little way, the track again passes by a church, and again by its _southern_ porch. _Fifthly._--The 'Horseshoe Reach'--the reach, that is, between Snodland and Burham--has always marked the limit between Rochester's jurisdiction over the lower, and Maidstone's over the upper, Medway. This is of great importance. All our tidal rivers have a sea-town and a land-town; the limits up to which the seaport has control is nearly always the _traditional crossing-place_ of the river. Thus Yarmouth Stone on the Yare divides the jurisdiction of Norwich from that of Yarmouth; it is close to the Reedham Ferry, which has always been the first passage over the river. For London and the Thames we have the best example of all--Staines. _Finally_, it is not extravagant to note how the megalithic monument (now fallen) near Trottescliffe, corresponds to Kit's Coty House on the opposite shoulder beyond the valley. The crossing at Snodland would be the natural road between the two. [Illustration: ROCHESTER] These seven converging lines of proof, or rather of suggestion--seven points which ingenuity or research might easily develop into a greater number--seem to me to settle the discussion in favour of Snodland.[36] By that ferry then we crossed. We noted the muddy river, suggestive of the sea, the Medway, which so few miles above suggests, when it brims at high tide, a great inland river. It has hidden reaches whose fields and trees have quite forgotten the sea. We passed by the old church at Burham. We were in a very field of antiquity[37] as we went our way, and apart from the stones and fragments it has left, we were surrounded by that great legend which made this place the funeral of the first barbarians. It was already nearly dark when we came to the place where that old sphinx of three poised monoliths, Kit's Coty House, stands in a field just north of the lane; the old circle of stones, now overthrown, lay below us to the south. We would not pass Kit's Coty House without going near it to touch it, and to look at it curiously with our own eyes. Though we were very weary, and though it was now all but dark, we trudged over the plough to where it stood; the overwhelming age of the way we had come was gathered up in that hackneyed place. Whether the name be, or be not, a relic of some Gaelic phrase that should mean 'the grave in the wood,' no one can tell. The wood has at any rate receded, and only covers in patches the height of the hill above; but that repeated suggestion of the immense antiquity of the trail we were pursuing came to us from it again as we hesitated near it, filled us with a permanent interest, and for a moment overcame our fatigue. When we had struck the high-road some yards beyond, just at the place where the Pilgrims Way leaves it to reach the site where Boxley Abbey once stood, our weakness returned. Not that the distance we had traversed was very great, but that this kind of walking, interrupted by doubts and careful search, and much of it of necessity taken over rough land, had exhausted us more than we knew. With difficulty, though it was by a fine, great falling road, we made the town of Maidstone, and having dined there in the principal inn to the accompaniment of wine, we determined to complete the journey, if possible, in the course of the next day. FOOTNOTES: [35] Not quite half a mile of it. Snodland itself stands on gravel, which just touches the river at the site of the church and ferry. [36] The full trace of this crossing may be followed in the 1/2500 Ordnance map for Kent (XXX. 3) as follows:--From Wrotham to (_a_) The _Kentish Drover_. The significance of this sign is the use of the Old Road by drovers in order to avoid turnpike charges, (_b_) on north of the _Trottescliffe megalithic monument_, under the old quarry there, on past Bunkers to the cross-roads. Then (_c_) leave present path and go a little east of south under _another old pit_, and so diagonally across field marked 79 (on map XXX. 4), thus reaching Paddlesworth Farm, when from the (_d_) _ruined chapel_ the track is marked by the division between fields 72 and 73 till Mark Farm is reached, whence the track is a plain road ultimately becoming the High Street of Snodland. After crossing the river it is a road all the way, passing at last between the two megalithic monuments of the hundred stones and Kit's Coty House. [37] Thus in the immediate neighbourhood alone were the Roman remains of Snodland, of Burham, of Hoborough. The group of a dozen or more round Maidstone, the bronze celts found at Wrotham. Oldbury Camp, the group of Roman foundations and coins at Plaxtol, the British and Roman coins found at Boxley. The megalithic monuments of Addington, of Coldrum, Kit's Coty House, and the hundred stones. The group already mentioned at Aylesford, the camp at Fosbery, the Roman pottery at Thurnham--and this is a very incomplete list. BOXLEY TO CANTERBURY _Twenty-six miles_ From Boxley to Charing the Old Road presents little for comment, save that over these thirteen miles it is more direct, more conspicuously marked, and on the whole better preserved than in any other similar stretch of its whole course. The section might indeed be taken as a type of what the primitive wayfarers intended when the conditions offered them for their journey were such as they would have chosen out of all. It is not a permanent road as is the section between Alton and Farnham, therefore nothing of its ancient character is obliterated. On the other hand, it is not--save in two very short spaces--interfered with by cultivation or by private enclosure. This stretch of the road is a model to scale, preserved, as though by artifice, from modern changes, and even from decay, but exhibiting those examples of disuse which are characteristic of its history. The road goes parallel to and above the line where the sharp spring of the hill leaves the floor of the valley; it commands a sufficient view of what is below and of what lies before; it is well on the chalk, just too high to interfere with cultivation, at least with the cultivation of those lower levels to which the Middle Ages confined themselves; it is well dried by an exposure only a little west of south; it is well drained by the slope and by the porous soil; it is uninterrupted by combes, or any jutting promontories, for the range of the hills is here exactly even. In a word, it here possesses every character which may be regarded as normal to the original trail from the west of England to the Straits of Dover. The villages which lie immediately below it are all at much the same distance--from a quarter to half a mile: it can be said to traverse one alone--Detling, and this it passes through to the north. The others, Harrietsham, Hollingbourne, Lenham, Charing, are left just to the south. They are now connected by the high-road which joins up the valley, and were once, it may be presumed, isolated from each other by the common fields and the waste of each village, or if connected, connected only by paths. They may have depended, during many centuries, for their intercommunication, upon the Old Road, to which each of them possesses a definitely marked line of approach: and the Old Road remains the typical main artery, which passes near, but not through, the places it serves.[38] This thirteen miles of the way is often vague, and is indeed actually broken at one point between Cobham Farm and Hart Hill, a mile and a half east of Charing; but it is a gap which presents no difficulty. The alignment is precisely the same before and after it; it is but seven furlongs in extent; it has been caused by the comparatively recent ploughing of this land during the two generations of our history when food was dear. From Boxley to Lenham the plain beneath the Old Road is drained by a stream called the Len, tributary to the Medway. Just before or at Lenham is the watershed: a parting of no moment, not a ridge, hardly observable to one standing above it on the hillside. It is the dividing line between the basins of the Medway and the Stour. All the hydrography of south-eastern England presents this peculiarity. The watersheds are low; the bold ranges do not divide the river-basins, because the water system is geologically older than the Chalk Hills. The Stour rises in Lenham itself, but its course has at first no effect upon the landscape, so even is the plain below. A village, which preserves the great Norman name of the Malherbes, stands on the watershed: the whole flat saddle is a rich field diversified by nothing more than slight rolls of land, in between which the spring comes as though up from a warmer earth, long before it touches the hills. It is peculiar in England, this county of Kent, and especially its valleys. I had known it hitherto only as a child, a stranger, but no one who has so visited it in childhood can forget the sheep in the narrow lanes, or the leaning cones of the hop-kilns against the sky: the ploughlands under orchards: all the Kentish Weald. At Charing the great hills begin to turn a corner. The Stour also turns, passes through a wide gap, and from east and south begins to make north and east straight for Canterbury; henceforward the spirit of Canterbury and the approach to it occupies the road. We had reached the end of that long, clean-cut ridge which we had followed all the way from Farnham, the ridge which the four rivers had pierced in such well-defined gaps. Charing is the close of that principal episode in the life of the Way. [Illustration: THE SHEEP IN THE NARROW LANES, OR THE LEANING CONES OF THE HOP-KILNS AGAINST THE SKY] Charing again was the last convenient halt in any rich man's journey until, say, a hundred and fifty years ago. It is something under sixteen miles from Canterbury, following the track of the Old Road, and even the poor upon their pilgrimages would have halted there; though the slow progress of their cumbersome caravans may have forced them to a further repose at Chilham before the city was reached. Charing, therefore, was designed by its every character to be a place of some importance, and was a very conscious little town. It counts more in Domesday than any other of the valley villages between Maidstone and the cathedral; it possessed the greatest and the first of those archiepiscopal palaces, the string of which we came on first at Otford; it has a church once magnificent and still remarkable after its rebuilding, and it maintains to this day an air of prosperity and continued comfort. The inn is one of the best inns to be found on all this journey; the whole village may be said, in spite of its enemies,[39] to be livelier in the modern decay than the other remote parishes of that plain. We had imagined, before seeing the ground, that, after Charing, we should have some difficulty in tracing the Old Road. The Ordnance map, which has given it the traditional name of the Pilgrim's Road all through this valley, not only drops the title immediately after Charing, but, for some reason I do not understand, omits to mark it at all along the skirts of Longbeech wood. When we came to follow it up, however, we found it a plainly-marked lane, leading at much the same height round the shoulder of the hill, to the western lodge of Lord Gerrard's park. Just before we entered that park two local names emphasised the memories of the road: the cottage called 'Chapel' and the word 'Street' in 'Dun Street' at the lodge. Within the fence of this park it is included. For nearly a mile the fence of the park itself runs on the embankment of the Old Road. At the end of that stretch, the fence turns a sharp angle outwards, and for the next mile and a half, the road, which is here worn into the clearest of trenches and banks, goes right across the park till it comes out on the eastern side a few yards to the south of the main gates. The Old Road thus turns a gradual corner, following the curve of the Stour valley. The modern road from Charing to Canterbury cuts off this corner, and saves a good two miles or three, but the reasons which caused men in the original condition of the country to take the longer course of the Old Road are not far to seek. There is, first, that motive which we have seen to be universal, the dryness of the road, which could only be maintained upon the southern side of the hill. Next, it must be noted that these slopes down to the Stour were open when the plateau above was dense forest. This in its turn would mean a group of villages--such a group is lacking even to this day to the main road, and the way would naturally follow where the villages lay. Finally, the water-supply of the plateau was stagnant and bad; that of the valley was a good running stream. In its passage through Eastwell Park, the road passed near the site of the house, and it passed well north of the church, much as it had passed north of the parishes in the valley we had just left. This would lead one to conjecture, I know not with what basis of probability, that a village once existed near the water around the church at the bottom of the hill. If it did, no trace of it now remains, but whether (already in decay) it was finally destroyed, as some have been by enclosure, or whether the church, being the rallying-point of a few scattered farmhouses (as is more often the case), was enclosed without protest and without hurt to its congregation, I have no means of determining. It is worth noting, that no part of the Old Road is enclosed for so great a length as that which passes from the western to the eastern lodge of Eastwell Park. Nearly two miles of its course lies here within the fence of a private owner. It is odd to see how little of the road has fallen within private walls. In Hampshire nothing of it is enclosed; in Surrey, if we except the few yards at Puttenham, and the garden rather than the park at Monk's Hatch, it has been caught by the enclosures of the great landlords in four places alone: Albury, Denbies, Gatton, and Titsey. It passes, indeed, through the gardens of Merstham House, but that only for a very short distance. In Kent, Chevening has absorbed it for now close upon a century; then it remains open land as far as this great park of Eastwell, and, as we shall see, passes later through a portion of Chilham. Clear as the road had been throughout Eastwell Park (and preserved possibly by its enclosure), beyond the eastern wall it entirely disappears. The recovery of it, rather more than half a mile further on, the fact that one recovers it on the same contour-line, that the contour-line is here turned round the shoulder of the hill which forms the entrance into the valley of the Stour, give one a practical certainty that the Old Road swept round a similar curve, but the evidence is lost.[40] The portion near Boughton Aluph is perfectly clear; it goes right up under the south porch. It has disappeared again under the plough in the field between the church and Whitehill Farm. There it has been cut, as we had found it so often in the course of our journey, by a quarry. Another field has lost it again under the plough; it reappears on the hillside beyond in a line of yews.[41] But within a hundred yards or so there arises a difficulty which gave rise to some discussion among us. A little eastward of us, on the way we had to go, the range of hills throws out one of those spurs with a re-entrant curve upon the far side, which we had previously discovered in Surrey above Red Hill and Bletchingly. It was our experience that the Old Road, when it came to an obstacle of this kind, made for the neck of the promontory and cut off the detour by passing just north of the crest. The accompanying sketch will explain the matter. [Illustration] We knew from the researches of others that the road was certainly to be found again at the spot marked A. It was our impression, from a previous study of the map, that the trail would make straight for this point from the place where I was standing (X). But we were wrong. At this point the road turned _up_ the hill, its track very deeply marked, lined with trees, and at the top with yews of immense antiquity. The cause of this diversion was apparent when we saw that the straight line I had expected the road to follow would have taken it across a ravine too shallow for the contours of the Ordnance map to indicate, but too steep for even a primitive trail to have negotiated. And this led me to regret that we had not maps of England such as they have for parts of Germany, Switzerland, and France, which give three contour-lines to every 100 feet, or one to every 10 metres. We followed up the hill, then, certain that we had recovered the Old Road. It took the crest of the hill, went across the open field of Soakham, plunged into a wood, and soon led us to the point marked upon my sketch as A, where any research of ours was no longer needed. It is from this place that a man after all these hundred miles can first see Canterbury. We looked through the mist, down the hollow glen towards the valley between walls of trees. We thought, perhaps, that a dim mark in the haze far off was the tower of the Cathedral--we could not be sure. The woods were all round us save on this open downward upon which we gazed, and below us in its plain the discreet little river the Stour. The Way did not take us down to that plain, but kept us on the heights above, with the wood to our left, and to our right the palings of Godmersham. [Illustration: THE PLOUGHLANDS UNDER ORCHARDS: ALL THE KENTISH WEALD] We had already learnt, miles westward of this, that the Old Road does not take to the crest of a hill without some good reason, but that once there it often remains, especially if there is a spur upon which it can fall gently down to the lower levels. The lane we were following observed such a rule. It ran along the north of Godmersham Park, just following the highest point of the hill, and I wondered whether here, as in so many other places, it had not formed a natural boundary for the division of land; but I have had no opportunity of examining the history of this enclosure. Chilham Park marches with Godmersham; where one ends and the other begins the road passed through the palings (and we with it) and went on in the shape of a clear ridge, planted often with trees, right down to the mound on which stands Chilham Castle. Down in the valley below, something much older bore witness to the vast age of this corner of inhabited land: the first barrow to be opened in England; the tomb in which Camden (whom Heaven forgive) thought that a Roman soldier lay; in which the country people still believe that the great giant Julaber was buried, but which is the memorial of something far too old to have a name. This castle and this grave are the entry into that host of antiquities which surrounds upon every side the soil of Canterbury. In every point of the views which would strike us in the last few miles, the history of this island would be apparent. * * * * * [Illustration] From the mound on which Chilham Castle stands to the farm called Knockholt, just two miles away, is what I believe to be a gap in the Old Road, and I will give my reasons for that conviction. Did I not hold it, my task would be far easier, for all the maps give the Way continuously from point to point. Up to the mound of Chilham the path is clear. After Knockholt it is equally clear, and has, for that matter, been studied and mapped by the highest authority in England.[42] But to bridge the space between is not as easy as some writers would imagine. It will be apparent from this sketch-map that between Chilham and Knockholt there rises a hill. On the south-east of it flows the Stour, with the modern main road alongside of it; on the north two lanes, coming to an angle, lead through a hamlet called Old Wives' Lees. There is a tradition that the pilgrims of the later Middle Ages went through Chilham and then turned back along these northern lanes, passing through Old Wives' Lees. This tradition may be trusted. They may have had some special reason, probably some devotional reason, for thus going out of their way, as we found them to have had at Compton. If their action in this is a good guide (as their action usually is) to the trace of the Old Road, well and good; there is then no appreciable gap, for a path leads to Knockholt and could only correspond to the Old Road; but I should imagine that here, as at Merstham, the pilgrims may have deceived us. They may have made a detour for the purpose of visiting some special shrine, or for some other reason which is now forgotten. It is difficult to believe that a prehistoric trail would turn such sharp corners, for the only time in all this hundred and twenty miles, without some obvious reason, and that it should choose for the place in which to perform this evolution the damp and northern side of a rather loamy hill. I cannot but believe that the track went over the side of the hill upon the southern side, but I will confess that if it did so there is here the longest and almost the only unbridged gap in the whole of the itinerary. I am confirmed in my belief that it went over the southern side from the general alignment, from the fact that the known path before Chilham goes to the south of the castle mound, that this would lead one to the south of the church, and so over the southern shoulder of the hill; but, if it did so, ploughed land and the careful culture of hop-gardens have destroyed all traces of it. I fancied that something could be made of an indication about a quarter of a mile before Knockholt Farm, but I doubt whether it was really worth the trouble of examining.[43] From the farm, right up through Bigberry Wood, we were on a track not only easy to recognise, but already followed, as I have said, by the first of authorities upon the subject. We came after a mile of the wood to the old earthwork which was at once the last and the greatest of the prehistoric remains upon the Old Road, and the first to be connected with written history. * * * * * It was a good place to halt: to sit on the edge of the gravelly bank, which had been cast up there no one knows how many centuries ago, and to look eastward out towards Canterbury. The fort was not touched with the memory of the Middle Ages: it was not our goal, for that was the church of St. Thomas, but it was the most certain and ancient thing of all that antiquity which had been the meaning of the road, and it stood here on the last crest of so many heights from which we had seen so many valleys in these eight days. History and the prehistoric met at this point only. Elsewhere we had found very much of what men had done before they began to write down their deeds. We had passed the barrows and the entrenchments, and the pits from whence coins with names, but without a history or a date, had been dug, and we had trodden on hard ground laid down at fords by men who had left no memory. We had seen also a very great many battlefields of which record exists. We had marched where Sweyn marched; Cheriton had been but a little way upon our right; we had seen Alton; the Roman station near Farnham had stood above us; the great rout of Ockley had lain not far off below our passage of the Mole; and we had recalled the double or treble memory of Otford, and of the Medway valley, where the invader perpetually met the armies of the island. But in all these there were two clean divisions: either the thing was archaic--a subject for mere guess-work; or it was clear history, with no prehistoric base that we knew of behind it. On this hill the two categories mingled, and a bridge was thrown between them. For it was here that the Roman first conquered. This was that defence which the Tenth Legion stormed: the entrenchment which was the refuge for Canterbury; and the river which names the battle was that dignified little stream the Stour, rolling an even tide below. The common people, who have been thought to be vacant of history, or at the best to distort it, have preserved a memory of this fight for two thousand years. I remembered as I sat there how a boy, a half-wit, had told me on a pass in Cumberland that a great battle had been fought there between two kings; he did not know how long ago, but it had been a famous fight. I did not believe him then, but I know now that he had hold of a tradition, and the king who fought there was not a George or a James, but Rufus, eight hundred years before. As I considered these things and other memories halting at this place, I came to wish that all history should be based upon legend. For the history of learned men is like a number of separate points set down very rare upon a great empty space, but the historic memories of the people are like a picture. They are one body whose distortion one can correct, but the mass of which is usually sound in stuff, and always in spirit. Thinking these things I went down the hill with my companions, and I reoccupied my mind with the influence of that great and particular story of St. Thomas, whose shadow had lain over the whole of this road, until in these last few miles it had come to absorb it altogether. The way was clear and straight like the flight of a bolt; it spanned a steep valley, passed a windmill on the height beyond, fell into the Watling Street (which here took on its alignment), and within a mile turned sharp to the south, crossed the bridge, and through the Westgate led us into Canterbury. We had thoroughly worked out the whole of this difficult way. There stood in the Watling Street, that road of a dreadful antiquity, in front of a villa, an omnibus. Upon this we climbed, and feeling that a great work was accomplished, we sang a song. So singing, we rolled under the Westgate, and thus the journey ended. * * * * * There was another thing to be duly done before I could think my task was over. The city whose name and spell had drawn to itself all the road, and the shrine which was its core remained to be worshipped. The cathedral and the mastery of its central tower stood like a demand; but I was afraid, and the fear was just. I thought I should be like the men who lifted the last veil in the ritual of the hidden goddess, and having lifted it found there was nothing beyond, and that all the scheme was a cheat; or like what those must feel at the approach of death who say there is nothing in death but an end and no transition. I knew what had fallen upon the original soul of the place. I feared to find, and I found, nothing but stones. I stood considering the city and the vast building and especially the immensity of the tower. Even from a long way off it had made a pivot for all we saw; here closer by it appalled the senses. Save perhaps once at Beauvais, I had never known such a magic of great height and darkness. [Illustration: SUCH A MAGIC OF GREAT HEIGHT AND DARKNESS] It was as though a shaft of influence had risen enormous above the shrine: the last of all the emanations which the sacred city cast outwards just as its sanctity died. That tower was yet new when the commissioners came riding in, guarded by terror all around them, to destroy, perhaps to burn, the poor materials of worship in the great choir below: it was the last thing in England which the true Gothic spirit made. It signifies the history of the three centuries during which Canterbury drew towards it all Europe. But it stands quite silent and emptied of every meaning, tragic and blind against the changing life of the sky and those activities of light that never fail or die as do all things intimate and our own, even religions. I received its silence for an hour, but without comfort and without response. It seemed only an awful and fitting terminal to that long way I had come. It sounded the note of all my road--the droning voice of extreme, incalculable age. As I had so fixed the date of this journey, the hour and the day were the day and hour of the murder. The weather was the weather of the same day seven hundred and twenty-nine years before: a clear cold air, a clean sky, and a little wind. I went into the church and stood at the edge of the north transept, where the archbishop fell, and where a few Norman stones lend a material basis for the resurrection of the past. It was almost dark.... I had hoped in such an exact coincidence to see the gigantic figure, huge in its winter swaddling, watching the door from the cloister, watching it unbarred at his command. I had thought to discover the hard large face in profile, still caught by the last light from the round southern windows and gazing fixedly; the choir beyond at their alternate nasal chaunt; the clamour; the battering of oak; the jangle of arms, and of scabbards trailing, as the troops broke in; the footfalls of the monks that fled, the sharp insults, the blows and Gilbert groaning, wounded, and à Becket dead. I listened for Mauclerc's mad boast of violence, scattering the brains on the pavement and swearing that the dead could never rise; then for the rush and flight from the profanation of a temple, and for distant voices crying outside in the streets of the city, under the sunset, 'The King's Men! The King's!' But there was no such vision. It seems that to an emptiness so utter not even ghosts can return. * * * * * In the inn, in the main room of it, I found my companions. A gramophone fitted with a monstrous trumpet roared out American songs, and to this sound the servants of the inn were holding a ball. Chief among them a woman of a dark and vigorous kind danced with an amazing vivacity, to the applause of her peers. With all this happiness we mingled. [Illustration] FOOTNOTES: [38] The lane is continuous after Boxley, though not everywhere equally important. North of Hollingbourne it is but a path. It soon becomes a lane again, is enclosed in the private grounds of Stede Hill (Kent, 1/2500 Ordnance map, XLIII. 12), and is but a track for three-quarters of a mile from Lenham quarries. It is lost after Cobham Farm, and reappears as a long hedge and division between fields, and after the pits at Hart Hill becomes a lane again. [39] It has enemies, like all good things. Its neighbours to the south have sung for centuries:-- 'Dirty Charing lies in a hole, Has but one bell, and that she stole.' [40] The 1/2500 Ordnance map of Kent (LV. 10) seems to me to commit a slight error at this point. There is no need to take the Old Road through the gas works. It obviously goes south of the lodge, curls northwards on leaving the park, and is lost in the buildings near the smithy. After this it forms the lane which bounds to the north the fields marked 111 and 119. [41] Here again the 25-inch Ordnance for Kent (LV. 10) draws a conventional straight line which seemed to us erroneous. We took it to go from near Brewhouse Farm along the raised footpath to Whitehill, and then (LV. 6) under the pit, across fields 13 and 67 (not down by Soakham Farm as the map gives it), and so on to the turf where is a raised embankment and a characteristic line of yews. [42] Professor Boyd-Dawkins in connection with his examination of the iron implements found in Bigberry Camp has traced the Old Road for a mile or two westward. The map may be seen in Owens College at Manchester. [43] I would trace it more or less as follows on the 25-inch Ordnance map for Kent (XLIV. 16):--Through the orchards marked 378, 379a there just south of Bowerland, down the valley beyond, and up to Knockholt. But it is all cultivated land, and except for a footpath at the end there is no trace left. INDEX =� Becket, St. Thomas=. See '=St. Thomas=.' =Addington=, megalithic remains at, 253 (note 2). =Adie, Mrs.=, her valuable book, The Pilgrim's Way, referred to, 136, 214. =Albury=, 'Weston Street' old name of, 136 (note 2). =---- Church=, old (SS. Peter and Paul), passed, according to Ordnance map, to south by Old Road, 110 (note). =---- Park=, preservation of Old Road in, 82; discussion of Old Road in, 174, 175. =---- Wood.= See '=Weston=.' =Alfred=, desecration of grave of, 125. =Alresfords=, the, not on the Old Road, 127; medieval road to, from Alton, 129, 130 (note 1). =Alton=, battle of, mentioned, 126; approach to medieval road to Alresford from, 129, 130 (note 1); approach to, described, 144-146. =Anchor=, Inn at Ropley, 137, 138 (map). =Anglo-Saxon Period=, character of, 83-85. See also =Dark Ages=. =Antiquity=, fascination of, 10. =Arthur's Seat= (near Redhill), exceptional passage of Old Road to north of crest at, 106 (note); described on journey, 209. =Avebury=, and Stonehenge, mark convergence of prehistoric roads, 16. =Aylesford=, a crossing of the Medway, its claims discussed, 245-248; and map, 236; 253 (note 2). =Barfleur=, last southern port of 'Second Crossing,' 49, 50. =Barrow=, near Chilham, 269. =Bentley=, passage of Old Road by, 149. =Betchworth Lime Pits=, passed on journey and described, 188-193. =Bigberry Camp=, fort of Canterbury, stormed by Caesar, 43; compared with St. Catherine's Hill at Winchester, 70; Professor Boyd-Dawkins's examination of, 271 (note), visited on journey and described, 273-275. =Bishopstoke=, church of, on site of Druidical stone circle, 109. =Bishop Sutton=, church of, passage of Old Road as near as possible to south of, 110; mentioned in Domesday, 130; passed on our journey, 134. =Bittern= (=Clausentum=), example of Roman use of Second Crossing, 55. =Bletchingly=, example of Old Road on crest of hill, 107. =Boughton Aluph=, hills beyond, example of Old Road on crest of hill, 107. =---- ---- Church=, example of church passed to south, 110; passed on journey, 265; discussion of road to eastward of, 265, 266. =Boulogne=, principal historic, but probably not earliest, southern port of Straits of Dover, 35. =Box Hill=, its appearance from Denbies at evening described, 178; track of Road recovered on, 181. =Boxley=, Roman and British coins found at, 253 (note 2). =---- Abbey=, site of referred to, 240; Roman and British coins found at, 253. =Boyd-Dawkins=, Professor, his examination of Bigberry Camp, 271 (and note). =Brackham Warren=, passage of Old Road by, 186. =Brading=, example of Roman use of Second Crossing, 55. =Brisland Lane=, coincident with Old Road, 140. =Britain, Roman.= See '=Roman Britain=.' (Conservation of antiquities in, 81-82.) =British Coins=, discovered at Gatton, 203; at Aylesford, 245; at Boxley, 253 (note 2). =Brixbury Wood=, passage of Old Road along, 162. =Broad Street=, near Lenham, place-name significant of passage of Old Road, 136 (note 2). =Bull Inn=, near Bentley, approach of Old Road to River Wey at, 152. =Burford Bridge=, error caused by passage of Pilgrimage at, 95 (note); not crossed by Old Road, 182-184. =Burham=, church of, passage of Old Road to south of, 110; passed on journey, 253. =Bury Hill Camp=, on original track of Old Road, 27. =Butts=, the, at Alton, entry both of medieval and prehistoric roads, 145. =Caesar=, first eye-witness of conditions of southern Britain, 24; fort at Canterbury stormed by him, 43, 275. =Calais=, probably first southern port of the Straits of Dover, 34-35. =Calvados=, reef of, 50. =Camp=, of Canterbury (Bigberry Wood), stormed by Caesar, 43; of Winchester (St. Catherine's hill), 70; of Holmbury, Farley Heath, and Anstie Bury, alluded to, 170-171; of Oldbury, of Fosbery, 253 (note 2); Bigberry described, 273-275. =Camps=, of Winchester and Canterbury compared, 70. =Canterbury=, why the goal of Old Road in its final form, causes of development of, 31-42; created by necessity of central depôt for Kentish ports, 41; importance of its position on the Stour, 42; resistance to Caesar, 43; origin of its religious character, 44; compared with Winchester, 66-71; entered by Westgate, 277. =---- Cathedral=, visited, 278-280. =Cassiterides=, their identification with Scilly Isles doubtful, 20. =Chalk=, has preserved Old Road, 75-76; third cause of preservation of Old Road fully discussed, 97, 98; excursion upon, 189-192. =Chantries Wood=, 163. =Charing=, block of St. John at, 94; example of church passed to north, 111, 257; described, 260, 261; rhyme on, 261 (note). =Chawton Wood=, medieval road from Alton to Alresford passed through, 136 (note 1). =---- Village=, passed, 146. =Chevening Park=, passage of Old Road across, 217. =---- church=, example of Old Road passing to north, 111. =Chequers Inn=, Ropley, passage of Old Road through garden of, 138. =Chilham=, church, mentioned, 94; probable diversion of Old Road at, by Pilgrimage, 95 (note); probability of Old Road passing south of hill at, 106 (note); church probably passed from south, 110; Park crossed, 269; discussion as to track of Road east of, 267-273 (and map). =Chilterns=, the, their position in scheme of prehistoric roads, 16; connection with Icknield Way, 23. =Christianity=, effect of a main road on its development, 7. =Churches, Wells in.= See '=Wells=.' Often built on pre-Christian sites, 109; passed to south by Old Road, list of, 108-110; of King's Worthy, Itchen Stoke, Bishop Sutton, Seale, Puttenham, St. Catherine's, St. Martha's, Albury, Shere, Merstham, Titsey, Chevening, Bishopstoke, Snodland, Burham, Lenham, Charing, Eastwell, Chilham, etc. See under name of place. =Clausentum.= See =Bittern=. =Clay=, Old Road often lost on, 75; how avoided by Old Road in Upper Valley of Wey, 152 (and note); above Quarry Hangers, argument against identity of Pilgrim's Road with Prehistoric, 205. =Cobham Farm=, Old Road lost at, 258. =Coldrum= (or =Trottescliffe=), megalithic monument, 252-253 (and note), and 236 (map). =Colekitchen Combe=, passage of Old Road across, 177. =Colley Farm=, Roman remains at, 197. =---- Hill=, example of Old Road on crest of hill, 107; described with map, 196. =Compton=, probable diversion of Old Road through, by Pilgrimage, 95 (note); also 159, 160. =Cotentin=, promontory of the, its value as a breakwater to the 'Second Crossing,' 46, 50; height of shore hills upon, 48. =Cotswolds=, the, their position in scheme of prehistoric road, 16, 23. =Cowes=, as a harbour of Second Crossing, 55. '=Crossing, Second=.' See '=Second Crossing=.' =Cultivation= avoided by Old Road, exceptions to this, 148-149. =Cuxton=, a possible crossing of the Medway, map, 236; its claims discussed, 244. =Darent=, river crossing, of, 219-225. =Dark Ages=, reproduce barbaric conditions previous to Roman Conquest, 65. =Denbies Park=, clear trace of Old Road along edge of, 178. =Detling=, 257. =Domesday=, Worthies mentioned in, 121 (note); three churches at Alresford mentioned in, 129; Bishop Sutton mentioned in, 130; Wrotham, Oxford, Charing mentioned in, 221. =Dorking Lime Pits=, track lost after, 178. =Dorsetshire Downs=, their position in scheme of prehistoric roads, 16, 23. =Dover=, Straits of, harbour of, originally an inlet, modern artificial character of, 36. See =Straits=. =Downs=. See =North=, =South=, =Dorsetshire=. =Drovers=, preserve old tracks by avoiding turnpike roads, 95; their road to London after Shere confused with Old Road, 176. =Dun Street=, near Eastwell Park, place-name significant of passage of Old Road, 136 (note 2); passed on journey, 262. =Duthie=, his record of medieval road from Alresford to Alton, 136 (note 1). =Eastwell Park=, preservation of Old Road, 82; passage through on journey, 263. =Ermine Street=, alluded to, 19; less affected than Icknield Way by revolution of the twelfth century, 87. =Farnham=, marks ends of North Down Ridge, 26; on original track of Old Road, 27; strategical and political importance of, 153-154. =Farnham Lane=, marks end of disused western portion of Old Road, 27. =Flanking Roads=, 107. =Folkestone=, one of modern harbours on northern shore of the Straits, its artificial character, 36. =Ford=, of Itchen at Itchen Stoke, discussed, 130-133 (and map); of Wey at Shalford, position of, 166-167 (and map); of Mole, discussed, 181-183; of Medway, or crossing, fully discussed, 236-253. =Fords=, Old Road chooses those approached by a spur on either side, 111. =Fordwych=, original limit of tide on Stour, 43. =Fosse Way=, alluded to, 19; begins to disappear with advent of Middle Ages, 87. =Froyle=, passage of Old Road by, 152. =Gatton=, exceptional passage of Old Road to north of crest at, 106 (note); speculation on history of, 201; track of Old Road through, and passage to north of crest described, 199 (note), 202-203. =Geological conditions= of exit from Winchester, 122; of upper Wey valley, 152 (and note); of Quarry Hangers, 205; of crossing of Medway in general, 244-251; of Snodland in particular, 250-251. =Gilbert Street=, place-name suggesting passage of Old Road, 137. =Glastonbury=, example of original importance of West Country, 22. =Gloucester=, medieval tax on iron at, 20. =Godmersham=, exceptional passage of Old Road to north of crest at, 106 (note); track of Road at, 267-269 (and map). =Goodnestone=, village of, geographical centre of Kentish ports, why unsuitable as a political centre, 42. =Goodwin Sands=, probably prehistoric, 39. =Greystone Lime Pits=, Merstham, recovery of Old Road at, 206. '=Grey Wethers=,' name of platform beyond Medway opposite Wrotham, 233. =Grésivaudan=, example of advantage of Partial Isolation, 30. =Gris Nez=, look-out towards English shore, 32; forbids harbours near it, but provides shelter to eastward coast, 34. =Gomshall=, doubt as to passage of Old Road at, 176. '=Habits=,' of the Old Road, list of, 104-113. =Hamble, River=, as a harbour of the 'Second Crossing,' 54. =Harbours=, multiplicity of, in Straits of Dover, produced by complexity of tides, 31, 32, 35; list of original and modern, on northern shore of the Straits, 35; of Southampton Water, Solent, and Spithead, excellence of, 55; list of, on Solent and Southampton Water, 55. =Harrietsham=, 257. =Hart Hill=, Old Road recovered at, 258. =Hastings=, mirage at, alluded to, 34. =Haverfield=, his map giving Roman road from north gate of Winchester, 124 (note). =Headbourne Worthy=, arguments for and against its standing on Old Road, 120-125; mentioned in Domesday, 121. =High Cross=, compared to Gatton, 201. =Hills=, ranges of, correspond with prehistoric roads, 15-16 (with map); crest of, usually avoided by Old Road, 106. =Hoborough=, Roman remains in, 253 (note 2). =Hog's Back=, hill near Farnham, continues range of North Downs, 26; affords example of turnpike protecting Old Road, 96; excellent example of 'Flanking Road,' 107; passage of Old Road along, 156 _et seq._ =Hollingbourne=, 257. =Horizons=, of Barfleur and St. Catherine's, 48 (map), 50. '=Hundred Stones=,' the, megalithic monument, 254 (note 2). =Hyde Abbey=, site and ruins of, 123-125. =Icknield Way=, alluded to, 22; begins to disappear in Middle Ages, 87. =Inns=, Anchor, Chequers, Jolly Farmer, Kentish Drover, etc. See under these names. =Iron=, its early production in West England, 23; in the Sussex Weald, 24. =Islands=, examples of advantages of Partial Isolation, 31. =Isle of Wight=, its projection southward invites 'Second Crossing,' 46; importance of St. Catherine's Hill in, 51; harbours of, and reef off Ventnor, 55. =Isolation=, Partial, Geographical, political advantages of, 22-31. =Itchen Abbas=, origin of name, 126; Roman villa discovered near, 126 (note); passed on our journey, 125. =Itchen=, river, continuation of Southampton Water, 56; compared to Stour, 68, 69; made navigable by Lucy, 130; view of, from Alresford Hill, 133-134; crossing of, at Itchen Stoke, 130-133 (and map). =---- Valley of=, forms Winchester to Farnham Road, 60. =Itchen Stoke=, old church of, passage of Old Road to south of, 110; site and date of destruction of, 126. =---- Ford at=, Old Road passes Itchen by, 128-133 (and map); passed on our journey, 132. =Jews= occupied principal street of Winchester, 118; their wealth in early Middle Ages, 118 (note). =Jolly Farmer=, Inn at Puttenham, 160. =Kemsing=, manor of, 226; on map, 227. =Kent=, shape of, forces Old Road westward, 18; causes complexity of tides in Straits of Dover, 31-32. =Kentish Drover=, the, 253 (note 1). =King's Worthy=, church of, passage of Old Road to south of, 110; mentioned in Domesday, 121 (note); its situation on Old Road discussed, 120-125; passed on our journey, 125. =Kit's Coty House=, referred to, 248 (note 1); visited, 253, 254. =Knockholt Farm=, east of Chilham, Old Road recovered at, 270. =Land-fall=, importance of, 52. =Landlords=, their conservation of antiquities, 82. =Lead=, mined in early times in the north, 19; in the west, 20. =Len, River=, 259. =Lenham=, traces of flanking road above, 107; church of, example of passage to north, 111; passed, 257. =Lime Pits=, =Dorking=, =Betchworth=, etc., see under their separate names; a mark of Old Road, 192-193. =London=, growth of importance of as Roman rule failed, 65; ousts Winchester, 87. =Longnose Point=, alluded to, 38. =Lower Halling=, a crossing of the Medway, its claims discussed, 248-249; and map, 236. =Lucy=, Bishop of Winchester, renders Itchen navigable, 130. =Lymington=, as a harbour of Second Crossing, 54. =Lympne.= See =Portus Lemanis=. =Maiden Way=, alluded to, 19. =Marden Park=, track of Old Road round, and map, 211. =Margery Wood=, passage of Old Road by, 198. =Martyrs' Worthy=, passed on journey, 125. =Medina=, river, as a harbour of the 'Second Crossing,' 54. =Medstead=, watershed near, mentioned, 113. =Medway, River=, crossing of, fully discussed, with map, 236-253. =---- Valley of=, view over, from Wrotham described, 231-233. =Megalithic Monument.= See =Kit's Coty House=, =Addington=, =Coldrum=, etc. =Mendips=, their importance as a metallic centre, 20. =Merstham=, probable diversion of Old Road at, by Pilgrimage, 95 (note); example of church passed to south, 110. =---- House=, passage of Old Road through grounds of, 204. =Metals=, mined originally in West England, 19. =Method of Reconstruction of Old Road=, 100-104. =Mole=, river, point of crossing discussed, 181-183; with map, 182. =Monk's Hatch=, passage of Old Road through, 162. =Neolithic Man=, his principal seat on green-sand south of North Downs, 23; endurance of relics of, 73. =North Country=, not important in early times, 19. =---- Downs=, their position in scheme of prehistoric roads, 16; the original and necessary platform of the Old Road, 24-25 (with map); view of these from Wrotham, 231; 'funnel' formed by them at passage of Medway, 237; road leaves them after Charing, 260. =---- Street=, place-name suggesting passage of Old Road, 137. =Old Road=, why the most important of English prehistoric roads, 17-24; its first track sketched, 25; why it ended at Canterbury, 31-42; why it began at Winchester, 44-58; short cut from Winchester to Farnham gradually superseded original western portion, 59-61 (with map); final form of, 62 (with map); causes of preservation of, 72-99; proportion of known to unknown, 100-101 (with map); characteristics or 'habits' of, 104-113. its track from north gate of Winchester to King's Worthy, 120-125; coincidence of, with modern road from King's Worthy to Itchen Stoke, 124; arguments in favour of its crossing the Itchen at Itchen Stoke, 127-132; recovering of lost portion in Ropley Valley, 132-136; corresponds to high-road after Alton, causes of this, 149-154; diversion at Puttenham, 158; crosses Wey, 163-166; passes St. Martha's, north of Weston Wood, Albury Park, 170-175; crosses Mole at Pixham Mill, 180-183; passes Betchworth Pits, 188; lost after Merstham and recovered, 204-207; discussion of track near Marden Park, 211; and across Titsey Park, 214-216; its loss after Chevening, 217; typical section of, 225-230 (with map); its crossing of Medway discussed, 236-253; clear along Downs to Charing, 256-260; crosses Eastwell Park, Boughton Aluph, Godmersham, Chilham Park, 263-269; lost for two miles east of Chilham, 270-271 (and map); passes Bigberry Camp, 273; enters Canterbury by Westgate, 277. =Old Wives' Lees=, doubts as to passage of Old Road by, 270-271 (and map). =Ordie=, Domesday name for 'Worthy,' 121 (note). =Ordnance Map=, 6-inch to the mile, probably wrong in track of Roman Road from north gate of Winchester, 124 (note); error in track given from Arthur's Seat to Oxted railway cutting, 213. =Ordnance Map=, 1/2500, references to fields at Ropley, 138 (notes 1, 2, 3), 139 (note); at Puttenham, 158 (note); Weston Wood, 174 (note); doubts as to track given by it through Albury Park, 174; recovery of Old Road after Gomshall, 177 (note); probable error east of Shere, 176; crossing of Mole, 183 (note); crest of Colley Hill, 197; error of, in regard to Gatton Park, 199 (note); Merstham to Quarry Hangers, 207 (note); east of Marden Park, 212 (note); east of Chevening, 218 (note); passage of Medway, 253 (note); error of, east and north of Eastwell Park, and east and north of Boughton Aluph church, 265-266 (notes 1 and 2). =Otford=, passage of Old Road through, 218; battles of, 220; palace of, 220, 221. =Oxted=, error caused by approach of pilgrimage to plain of, 95 (note). =Oxted Railway Cutting=, track of Old Road from Marden Park to, 211-212 (and map). =Paddlesworth=, passage of Old Road, 253 (note 1). =Palace= of Archbishops of Canterbury at Otford, 220-223. =Park=, =Albury=, =Monk's Hatch=, =Denbies=, =Gatton=, =Merstham=, =Titsey=, =Chevening=, =Stede Hill=, =Eastwell=, =Godmersham=, =Chilham=. See under these names. =Pebble Combe=, passage of Old Road across, 194-196 (and map). =Pilgrimage=, to shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury, preserves the Old Road, 76-81; change of date of, 91; rapid development of, 91-92; ancient sites restored by, 93; but also prehistoric track sometimes confused by list of places so affected, 96 (and note); example at Ropley of its recovery of Old Road, 136 (and note); confuses record of passing of River Mole, 181; diversion caused to Road after Merstham, 205; and Old Wives' Lees, 271. =Pilgrim's Lane=, near Merstham, 205. =Pixham Mill=, Old Road crosses Mole at, 182 (map), and 183 (note). =Porchester=, example of Roman use of 'Second Crossing,' 55. =Portsmouth=, as a harbour of the 'Second Crossing,' 54. =Portus Adurni=, possibly origin of a track to London, 200; doubts on its equivalence to Shoreham, 200. =Portus Lemanis=, the modern Lympne, perhaps original of Old Road, 27; its connection with the earliest crossing of the Straits, 35. =Puttenham=, apparent exception to straightness of Old Road at, mentioned, 105; example of church passed to south, 110; medieval market at, 158; diversion of Old Road at, discussed, 159-161 (and map); neolithic and bronze remains at, 161. =Quarley Hill=, on original track of Old Road, 27. =Quarry Hangers=, east of Red Hill, too steep to take Old Road, 205, 206; arrival at summits of, 207. =Ramsgate=, one of modern harbours on northern shore of Straits, its artificial character, 36. =Reconstruction of Old Road.= See '=Method=.' =Reculvers=, one of original harbours in connection with crossing Straits of Dover, 35. =Reef=, of Calvados, 50; off Ventnor, 55. =Reformation=, effect of, on Old Road, 221-224. =Reigate=, derivation of name of, and relation to Old Road, 199. =Religion=, effect of a road on development of, 7; effect of Dark Ages on, in Britain, 80; preserves and recovers Old Road, 92-94. =Representative System=, monastic origin of, 86. =Richborough=, one of original harbours on northern shore of the Straits, 35 (Rutupiae); alternative harbour in original crossing, 36. =Road=, the, primeval importance of, 4-5. =---- Old.= See '=Old Road=.' =Road, Roman.= See '=Roman Road=.' =---- Flanking.= See '=Flanking Roads=.' =---- Turnpike.= See '=Turnpike=.' =Roads, prehistoric=, in England, correspond to five hill ranges, 15 (with map); difficulty of recovering, 74-75; especially preserved in Britain, 78; and their destruction in twelfth century, 84, 85. =Roman Britain=, imperfect occupation of, 76, 77. =Roman Coins=, discovery of, at Gatton, 203; at Boxley, 253 (note 2). =Roman Remains=, near Itchen Abbas, 126 (and note); near Farnham, 153; at Colley Farm and Walton Heath, 197; at Titsey Park, 214; at Lower Halling, Snodland, Burham, Little Culand, 251; Plaxtol and Thurnham, Boxley, 253 (note 2). =Roman Road=, definite character of a, 74; from Winchester to Silchester, site of, 119, 124 (and note); conjectural from Portus Adurni to London, 200; at base of Upwood Scrubbs, 208. =Ropley=, passage of Pilgrimage through, and position on Old Road, 136 (and note); valley of, track of Old Road through, 137 (map). =Rutupiae.= See =Reculvers=. =Rye=, one of original harbours on northern shores of Straits, 35. =St. Catherine's Chapel=, near Guildford, discussed in connection with passage of River Wey, 163-165. =---- Down=, in Isle of Wight. See '=Isle of Wight=.' =---- Hill=, camp at Winchester, compared to Bigberry Camp, 70. =St. Martha's=, doubtful whether passed to north or south, 110; derivation of name, 170; described, passed, 172. =St. Swithin=, his shrine at Winchester, 71. =St. Thomas à Becket=, his shrine at Canterbury destroys that of St. Swithin at Winchester, 71; pilgrimage to tomb of, see '=Pilgrimage='; his martyrdom, turning-point of twelfth century, 89; date of martyrdom, jubilee and translation, 91; his chapel at Reigate, 200. =Salisbury Plain=, area of convergence of prehistoric roads, 16. =Sandwich=, one of harbours on northern shore of Straits, 35. =Scilly Isles=, their identification with Cassiterides doubtful, 20. '=Second Crossing=,' passage of Channel from Cotentin to Wight so called, 46; its advantages, 48; map of, 49; high land marking either shore, 50-51; great advantage of its English harbours, 55; the direct route to the centre at Salisbury Plain, 56; principal cause of development of Winchester, _ibid._ =Seale=, church of, passage of Old Road as near as possible to south of, 110; passed, 157. =Seine=, estuary of, its importance in production of Second Crossing, 48, 49 (and map). =Severn=, valley of, importance as metallic centre, 20. =Shalford=, Becket's fair at, 158; passage of Wey at, discussed, 164-167 (and map). =Shere=, church of, passage of Old Road to south of, doubtful, 110; probable track of Old Road through, described, 175. =Shoelands=, passed on journey, 157; significance of name, 157. =Shrines=, of Winchester and Canterbury compared, 71; of St. Thomas à Becket. See '=St Thomas=.' =Snodland=, church of, passage of Old Road to south of, 110; crossing of Medway at, discussed, 248-253 (and map), 236. =South Country=, originally wealthiest portion of the island, 23, 24. =Southampton Water, Solent, and Spithead=, regarded as one harbour, north of 'Second Crossing,' 55. =South Downs=, their position in scheme of prehistoric roads, 16. =Stane Street=, example of evidences of a Roman road, 74; disuse in Middle Ages, 87; crosses Mole at Burford Bridge, 185. =Stoke=, meaning of, in place-names, 127. =Stonehenge=, and Avebury, mark convergence of prehistoric roads, 16; original starting-point of Old Road, 27. =Stour, River=, importance of in development of Canterbury, 42, 43; compared to Itchen, 68, 69; source in Lenham, 259; entry of Old Road into valley of, 260, 262. =Straits of Dover=, importance of, to England alluded to, 17; discussed at length, 29-40; complexity of tides in, 32; opposite shores visible, 32; original harbours of, 35; original crossing of, 37-39. =Street=, =Stane=, =Ermine=, =Watling=. See under these names. =Street=, in place-names indicates passage of a road, 136 (and note 2). =Swegen=, his march through the Worthies, 126. =Thomas à Becket, St.= See '=St. Thomas=.' =Ticino=, example of advantage of partial isolation, 30. =Tide=, multiplicity of harbours due to their complexity, 31-32; in Straits of Dover, 37-39; limit of, on Stour, 43; and on Itchen, forming Canterbury and Winchester, 68; political importance of limit of, _e.g._ at Snodland, 252. =Tin=, mined originally in Cornwall, 20. =Titsey Church=, old, example of church passed to south by Old Road, 110; passed on journey, 216. =---- Park=, discoveries in, mentioned, 82; flanking road on hills to east of, 107; Roman remains of, and passage of Old Road through, 214. =Towns=, inland, advantages for defence over seaports, 67; avoided by Old Road, exceptions to this, 149. =Trottescliffe.= See =Coldrum=. =Turnpike Roads=, second cause of preservation of Old Road, 76, 95. =Twelfth Century=, revolution of the, 84-87. =Upwood Scrubbs=, near Caterham, Old Road lost in, 208. =Valleys=, examples of advantages of partial isolation, 31; of Wey, Itchen, Darent, Medway, etc. See under these names. =Varne=, sand-buoy, alluded to, 37. =Walton Heath=, Roman remains at, 197. =Watershed=, method of crossing one, 60-61; that between Itchen and Wey, 61-62 (and map); proximity of, to Medstead, 113; direct approach to, an argument for Itchen Stoke Ford, 131; also for coincidence of Old Road with Brisland Lane, 135; how approached from Ropley valley, 137 (and map); passed on journey, 140; map of, in detail, 143; of Medway and Stour, 259. =Watling Street=, alluded to, 18; preserved when others disappeared in twelfth and thirteenth centuries, 86. =Wells=, in churches, list of, 57 (note). =Welsh Road=, preserved, like the Old Road, by turnpikes, 95-96. =West Country=, importance of, in early times, 19-22; spirit of, 21. =Weston=, or =Albury Wood=, Old Road passes to north of, 106 (note); this part of road described in journey, 173. =Weston Street=, old name for Albury, significant of passage of Old Road, 136 (note 2). =West Street=, near Lenham, place-name significant of passage of Old Road, 136 (note 2). =Wey River=, discussion of how crossed by Old Road near Shalford, 164-167 (and map). =----= valley of, forms Winchester to Farnham road, 60; its geological conditions beyond Alton, 152 (and note); coincidence of Old and modern road in, 149-152 (and map); Roman remains in, 153. =Whitchurch=, on original track of Old Road, 27. =Whiteways=, point in Hog's Back where Old Road branches from Turnpike, 156. =Wight, Isle of.= See '=Isle of Wight=.' =Winchelsea=, one of original harbours on northern shore of Straits, 35. =Winchester=, why the origin of Old Road in its final form, causes of development of, 45-57; inland town of the Second Crossing, 56; great age of, 56; compared to Chartres, 57; compared with Canterbury, 66-71; beginning of decay of, after twelfth century, 87; arrangement of Roman streets in, 117; site of north gate of, 118. =Winds=, prevailing in Straits of Dover, 33; effect of, on original crossing, 34; prevailing, of 'Second Crossing,' 48 (map), 49. =Worthies=, =Headbourne=, =King's=, =Martyrs'=. See under these names. =Wrotham=, relation of, to Old Road, 226-227 (and map); view from, 231-233. =Wye=, in Kent, why unsuitable as a centre for Kentish ports, 42-44. =Yaldham=, relation of, to Old Road, 226, 227 (and map). =Yarmouth=, in Isle of Wight one of harbours of Second Crossing, 54. =Yews=, often mark Old Road, 103; indicate recovery of road at Box Hill, 186. =Yew Walk=, at Albury, mentioned, 174. =York=, why Roman capital, 65. Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press 
41152	----	HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 4 [Illustration: BRADDOCK'S GRAVE [_The depression on the right is the ancient track of Braddock's Road; near the single cluster of gnarled apple trees in the meadow beyond, Braddock died and was first buried_]] HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 4 Braddock's Road AND THREE RELATIVE PAPERS BY ARCHER BUTLER HULBERT _With Maps and Illustrations_ [Illustration] THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY CLEVELAND, OHIO 1903 COPYRIGHT, 1903 BY THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 11 I. ROUTES OF THE FRENCH AND ENGLISH WESTWARD 15 II. THE VIRGINIA CAMPAIGN 30 III. FROM ALEXANDRIA TO FORT CUMBERLAND 61 IV. A SEAMAN'S JOURNAL 79 V. THE BATTLE OF THE MONONGAHELA 108 VI. A DESCRIPTION OF THE BACKWOODS 136 VII. SPARKS AND ATKINSON ON BRADDOCK'S ROUTE 166 VIII. BRADDOCK'S ROAD IN HISTORY 191 ILLUSTRATIONS I. BRADDOCK'S GRAVE _Frontispiece_ II. ENGLISH AND FRENCH ROUTES TO THE OHIO; 1756 21 III. PLAN OF FORT CUMBERLAND; FEBRUARY 1755 27 IV. VIEW OF FORT CUMBERLAND; 1755 45 V. MAP OF BRADDOCK'S ROAD; ABOUT 1759 69 VI. BRADDOCK'S ROAD NEAR FROSTBURG, MARYLAND 148 VII. MIDDLETON'S MAP OF BRADDOCK'S ROAD; 1847 174 VIII. BRADDOCK'S ROAD IN THE WOODS NEAR FARMINGTON, PENNSYLVANIA 200 PREFACE The French were invariably defeated by the British on this continent because the latter overcame natural obstacles which the former blindly trusted as insurmountable. The French made a league with the Alleghenies--and Washington and Braddock and Forbes conquered the Alleghenies; the French, later, blindly trusted the crags at Louisbourg and Quebec--and the dauntless Wolfe, in both instances, accomplished the seemingly impossible. The building of Braddock's Road in 1755 across the Alleghenies was the first significant token in the West of the British grit which finally overcame. Few roads ever cost so much, ever amounted to so little at first, and then finally played so important a part in the development of any continent. A. B. H. MARIETTA, O., December 8, 1902. Braddock's Road and Three Relative Papers CHAPTER I ROUTES OF THE FRENCH AND ENGLISH WESTWARD If Providence had reversed the decree which allowed Frenchmen to settle the St. Lawrence and Englishmen the middle Atlantic seaboard, and, instead, had brought Englishmen to Quebec and Frenchmen to Jamestown, it is sure that the English conquest of the American continent would not have cost the time and blood it did. The Appalachian mountain system proved a tremendous handicap to Saxon conquest. True, there were waterways inland, the Connecticut, Hudson, Delaware, James, and Potomac rivers, but these led straight into the mountains where for generations the feeble settlements could not spread and where explorers became disheartened ere the rich empire beyond was ever reached. The St. Lawrence, on the other hand, offered a rough but sure course tempting ambitious men onward to the great lake system from which it flowed, and the Ottawa River offered yet another course to the same splendid goal. So, while the stolid English were planting sure feet along the seaboard, New France was spreading by leaps and bounds across the longitudes. But, wide-spread as these discoveries were, they were discoveries only--the feet of those who should occupy and defend the land discovered were heavy where the light paddle of the voyageur had glistened brightly beneath the noon-day sun. It was one thing to seek out such an empire and quite another thing to occupy and fortify it. The French reached the Mississippi at the beginning of the last quarter of the seventeenth century; ten years after the middle of the eighteenth they lost all the territory between the Atlantic and Mississippi--though during the last ten years of their possession they had attempted heroically to take the nine stitches where a generation before the proverbial one stitch would have been of twenty-fold more advantage. The transportation of arms and stores upstream into the interior, around the foaming rapids and thundering falls that impeded the way, was painfully arduous labor, and the inspiration of the swift explorers, flushed with fevered dreams, was lacking to the heavy trains which toiled so far in the rear. There were three points at which the two nations, France and England, met and struck fire in the interior of North America, and in each instance it was the French who were the aggressors--because of the easy means of access which they had into the disputed frontier region. They came up the Chaudière and down the Kennebec or up the Richelieu and Lake Champlain, striking at the heart of New England; they ascended the St. Lawrence and entered Lake Ontario, coveted and claimed by the Province of New York; they pushed through Lake Ontario and down the Allegheny to the Ohio River, which Virginia loved and sought to guard. The French tried to guard these three avenues of approach by erecting fortresses on the Richelieu River, on Lakes Champlain, Ontario, and Erie, and on the Allegheny and Ohio Rivers. These forts were the weights on the net which the French were stretching from the mouth of the St. Lawrence to the mouth of the Mississippi. And when that net was drawn taut New England and New York and Virginia would be swept into the sea! It was a splendid scheme--but the weights were not heavy enough. After interminable blunders and delays the English broke into the net and then by desperate floundering tore it to fragments. They reached the line of forts by three routes, each difficult and hazardous, for in any case vast stretches of forests were to be passed; and until the very last, the French had strong Indian allies who guarded these forests with valor worthy of a happier cause. New England defended herself by ascending the Hudson and crossing the portage to Lake George and Lake Champlain. New York ascended the Mohawk and, crossing the famous Oneida portage to Odeida Lake, descended the Onondaga River to Oswego on Lake Ontario. Virginia spreading out, according to her unchallenged claims, across the entire continent, could only reach the French on the Ohio by ascending the Potomac to a point near the mouth of Wills Creek, whence an Indian path led northwestward over a hundred miles to the Monongahela, which was descended to its junction with the Ohio. The two former routes, to Lake Champlain and to Lake Ontario, were, with short portages, practically all-water routes, over which provisions and army stores could be transported northward to the zone into which the French had likewise come by water-routes. The critical points of both routes of both hostile nations were the strategic portages where land travel was rendered imperative by the difficulties of navigation. On these portages many forts instantly sprang into existence--in some instances mere posts and entrepôts, in some cases strongly fortified citadels. The route from Virginia to the Ohio Valley, finally made historic by the English General Braddock, was by far the most difficult of all the ways by which the English could meet the French. The Potomac was navigable for small boats at favorable seasons for varying distances; but beyond the mountains the first water reached, the Youghiogheny, was useless for military purposes, as Washington discovered during the march of the Virginia Regiment, 1754. The route had, however, been marked out under the direction of Captain Thomas Cresap, for the Ohio Company, and was, at the time of Washington's expedition, the most accessible passageway from Virginia to the "Forks of the Ohio." The only other Virginian thoroughfare westward brought the traveller around into the valley of the Great Kanawha which empties into the Ohio two hundred odd miles below the junction of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. It was over this slight trail by Wills Creek, Great Meadows, and the Forks of the Ohio that Washington had gone in 1753 to the French forts on French Creek; and it was this path that the same undaunted youth widened, the year after, in order to haul his swivels westward with the vanguard of Colonel Fry's army which was to drive the French from the Ohio. Washington's Road--as Nemacolin's Path should, in all conscience, be known--was widened to the summit of Mount Braddock. From Mount Braddock Washington's little force retraced their steps over the road they had built in the face of the larger French army sent against them until they were driven to bay in their little fortified camp, Fort Necessity, in Great Meadows, where the capitulation took place after an all-day's battle. Marching out with the honors of war, the remnant of this first English army crawled painfully back to Wills Creek. All this took place in the summer of 1754. [Illustration: ENGLISH AND FRENCH ROUTES TO THE OHIO (1756) [_From the original in the British Museum_]] The inglorious campaign ending thus in dismay was of considerably more moment than its dejected survivors could possibly have imagined. Small as were the numbers of contestants on both sides, and distant though the scene of conflict might have been, the peace between England and France was at this moment poised too delicately not to be disturbed by even the faintest roll of musketry in the distant unknown Alleghenies. Washington had been able neither to fight successfully nor to avoid a battle by conducting a decent retreat because the reinforcements expected from Virginia were not sent him. These "reinforcements" were Rutherford's and Clarke's Independent Companies of Foot which Governor Dinwiddie had ordered from New York to Virginia but which did not arrive in Hampton Roads until the eighth of June. On the first of September these troops were marched to Wills Creek, where, being joined by Captain Demerie's Independent Company from South Carolina, they began, on the twelfth of September, the erection of a fort. The building of this fort by Virginia nearly a hundred miles west of Winchester (then a frontier post) is only paralleled by the energy of Massachusetts in building two forts in the same year on the Kennebec River--Fort Western and Fort Halifax. New York had almost forgotten her frontier forts at Saratoga and Oswego, and the important portage between the Hudson and Lake George was undefended while the French were building both Fort Ticonderoga and Fort Frederick (Crown Point) on Lake Champlain. New York and New England could have seized and fortified Lake Champlain prior to French encroachment as easily as Virginia could fortify Wills Creek. Virginia, however, had been assisted from the royal chest, while the assemblies of the other colonies were in the customary state of turmoil, governor against legislature. The intermediate province of Pennsylvania, home of the peaceful Quakers, looked askance upon the darkening war-clouds and had done little or nothing for the protection of her populous frontiers. As a result, therefore, the Virginian route to the French, though longest and most difficult, was made, by the erection of Fort Cumberland at Wills Creek, at once the most conspicuous. Fort Cumberland, named in honor of the Duke of Cumberland, Captain-general of the English Army, was located on an eminence between Wills Creek and the Potomac, two hundred yards from the former and about four hundred yards from the latter. Its length was approximately two hundred yards and its breadth nearly fifty yards; and "is built," writes an eye-witness in 1755, "by logs driven into the ground, and about 12 feet above it, with embrasures for 12 guns, and 10 mounted 4 pounders, besides stocks for swivels, and loop holes for small arms." As the accompanying map indicates, the fort was built with a view to the protection of the store-houses erected at the mouth of Wills Creek by the Ohio Company. This is another suggestion of the close connection between the commercial and military expansion of Virginia into the Ohio basin. Wherever a storehouse of the Ohio Company was erected a fort soon followed--with the exception of the strategic position at the junction of the Allegheny and Monongahela where English fort building was brought to a sudden end by the arrival of the French, who, on English beginnings, erected Fort Duquesne in 1754. A little fort at the mouth of Redstone Creek on the Monongahela had been erected in 1753 but that, together with the blasted remains of Fort Necessity, fell into the hands of the French in the campaign of 1754. Consequently, at the dawning of the memorable year 1755, Fort Cumberland was the most advanced English position in the West. The French Indian allies saw to it that it was safe for no Englishman to step even one pace nearer the Ohio; they skulked continually in the neighboring forests and committed many depredations almost within range of the guns of Fort Cumberland. [Illustration: PLAN OF FORT CUMBERLAND, AND VICINITY; DATED FEBRUARY, 1755 [_Showing buildings of the Ohio Company across the Potomac River_] (_From the original in British Museum_)] CHAPTER II THE VIRGINIA CAMPAIGN Governor Dinwiddie's zeal had increased in inverse ratio to the success of Virginian arms. After Washington's repulse at Fort Necessity he redoubled his energies, incited by a letter received from one of Washington's hostages at Fort Duquesne. Colonel Innes was appointed to command the Virginia troops and superintend the erection of Fort Cumberland, while Washington was ordered to fill up his depleted companies by enlistments and to move out again to Fort Cumberland. Indeed it was only by objections urged in the very strongest manner that the inconsiderate Governor was deterred from launching another destitute and ill-equipped expedition into the snow-drifted Alleghenies. But there was activity elsewhere than in Virginia during the winter of 1754-5. Contrecoeur, commanding at Fort Duquesne, sent clear reports of the campaign of 1754. The French cause was strengthening. The success of the French had had a wonderful effect on the indifferent Indians; hundreds before only half-hearted came readily under French domination. All this was of utmost moment to New France, possibly of more importance than keeping her chain of forts to Quebec unbroken. As Joncaire, the drunken commander on the Allegheny, had told Washington in 1753, the English could raise two men in America to their one--but not including their Indians. It is, probably, impossible for us to realize with what feelings the French anticipated war with England on the American continent. The long campaigns in Europe had cost both nations much and had brought no return to either. Even Marshal Saxe's brilliant victories were purchased at a fabulous price, and, at the end, Louis had given up all that was gained in order to pose "as a Prince and not as a merchant." But in America there was a prize which both of these nations desired and which was worth fighting for--the grandest prize ever won in war! Between the French and English colonies lay this black forest stretching from Maine through New York and Pennsylvania and Virginia to the Gulf of Mexico. It seemed, to the French, the silliest dream imaginable for the English to plan to pierce this forest and conquer New France. To reach any of the French forts a long passage by half-known courses through an inhospitable wilderness was necessary; and the French knew by a century of experience what a Herculean task it was to carry troops and stores over the inland water and land ways of primeval America. But for the task they had had much assistance from the Indians and were favored in many instances by the currents of these rivers; the English had almost no Indian allies and in every case were compelled to ascend their rivers to reach the French. However, the formation of the Ohio Company and the lively days of the summer of 1754 in the Alleghenies aroused France as nothing else could; here was one young Virginian officer who had found his way through the forests, and there was no telling how many more there might be like him. And France, tenfold more disturbed by Washington's campaign than there was need for, performed wonders during the winter of 1754-5. The story of the action at Fort Necessity was transmitted to London and was represented by the British ambassadors at Paris as an open violation of the peace, "which did not meet with the same degree of respect," writes a caustic historian, "as on former occasions of complaint: the time now nearly approaching for the French to pull off the mask of moderation and peace."[1] As if to confirm this suspicion, the French marine became suddenly active, the Ministry ordered a powerful armament to be fitted at Brest; "in all these armaments," wrote the Earl of Holderness's secret agent, "there appeared a plain design to make settlements and to build forts; besides, that it was given out, they resolved to augment the fortifications at Louisburg, and to build more forts on the Ohio."[2] But there was activity now in England, too. Governor Sharpe of Maryland, but lately appointed Commander-in-chief in America, had only a hint of what was being planned and was to have even less share in its accomplishment; in vain his friends extolled him as honest--"a little less honesty," declared George II, characteristically, "and a little more ability were more to be desired at the moment." And the rule worked on both sides of the Atlantic. American affairs had long been in the hands of the Secretary of the Board of Trade, the Duke of Newcastle, as perfect an ass as ever held high office. He had opposed every policy that did not accord with his own "time serving selfishness" with a persistency only matched by his unparalleled ignorance. Once thrown into a panic, it is said, at a rumor that a large French army had been thrown into Cape Breton, he was asked where the necessary transports had been secured. "Transports," he shrieked, "I tell you they marched by land!" "By land, to the island of Cape Breton?" was the astonished reply. "What, is Cape Breton an island? Are you sure of that?" and he ran away with an "Egad, I will go directly and tell the King that Cape Breton is an island!" It is not surprising that a government which could ever have tolerated such a man in high office should have neglected, then abused, and then lost its American colonies. But Newcastle gave way to an abler man. The new campaign in North America was the conception of the Captain-general of the British Army, the Duke of Cumberland, hero of Culloden. On November 14, 1754, King George opened Parliament with the statement that "His principal view should be to strengthen the foundation, and secure the duration of a general peace; to improve the present advantages of it for promoting the trade of his good subjects, and protecting those possessions which constitute one great source of their wealth and commerce." Only in this vague way did His Majesty refer to the situation in America, lest he precipitate a debate; but Parliament took the cue and voted over four million pounds--one million of which was to be devoted to augmenting England's forces "by land and sea." Cumberland's plan for the operations against the French in America had, sometime before, been forwarded to the point of selecting a Generalissimo to be sent to that continent. Major-General Edward Braddock was appointed to the service, upon the Duke of Cumberland's recommendation, on September 24. Edward Braddock was a lieutenant-colonel of the line and a major of the Foot Guards, the choicest corps of the British army--a position which cost the holder no less than eighteen thousand dollars. He was born in Ireland but was not Irish, for neither Scot, Irish, nor Papist could aspire to the meanest rank of the Foot Guards. He was as old as his century. His promotion in the army had been jointly due to the good name of his father, Edward Braddock I, who was retired as Major-general in 1715, to his passion for strict discipline, and to the favor of His Grace the Duke of Cumberland. Braddock's personal bravery was proverbial; it was said that his troops never faced a danger when their commander was not "greedy to lead." In private life he was dissolute; in disposition, "a very Iroquois," according to Walpole. Yet certain of his friends denied the brutality which many attributed to him. "As we were walking in the Park," one of Braddock's admirers has recorded, "we heard a poor fellow was to be chastized; when I requested the General to beg off the offender. Upon his application to the general officer, whose name was Dury, he asked Braddock, How long since he had divested himself of brutality and the insolence of his manner? To which the other replied, 'You never knew me insolent to my inferiors. It is only to such rude men as yourself that I behave with the spirit which I think they deserve.'"[3] And yet, when his sister Fanny hanged herself with a silver girdle to her chamber door, after losing her fortune at the gaming tables, the brute of a brother observed, "I always thought she would play till she would be forced to tuck herself up." On the other hand it need not be forgotten that Braddock was for forty-three years in the service of the famed Coldstream Guards; that he probably conducted himself with courage in the Vigo expedition and in the Low Countries, and was a survivor of bloody Dettingen, Culloden, Fontenoy, and Bergen-op-Zoom. In 1753 he was stationed at Gibraltar where, "with all his brutality," writes Walpole, "he made himself adored, and where scarce any governor was endured before."[4] Two months and one day after Braddock's commission was signed he received two letters of instructions, one from the King and one from the Duke of Cumberland. "For your better direction in discharge of y^e Trust thereby reposed in You," reads the King's letter, "We have judged it proper to give You the following Instructions." The document is divided into thirteen heads: 1. Two regiments of Foot commanded by Sir Peter Halket and Colonel Dunbar, with a train of artillery and necessary ships were ordered to "repair to North America." 2. Braddock ordered to proceed to America and take under his command these troops, cultivating meanwhile "a good understanding & correspondence with Aug. Keppel Esq^r." who was appointed commander of the American squadron. 3. Orders him also to take command of and properly distribute 3000 men which the Governors of the provinces had been ordered to raise to serve under Governor Shirley and Sir William Pepperell; informs him that Sir John St. Clair, deputy Quarter Master General, and Jas. Pitcher Esq^r., "our commissary of y^e musters, in North America," had been sent to prepare for the arrival of the troops from Ireland and for raising the troops in America. Upon Braddock's arrival he should inform himself of the progress of these preparations. 4. Provisions for the troops from Ireland had been prepared lest, upon arrival in America, they should be in want. 5. "Whereas, We have given Orders to our said Gov^{rs} to provide carefully a sufficient Quantity of fresh victuals for y^e use of our Troops at their arrival, & y^t they should also furnish all our officers who may have occasion to go from Place to Place, with all necessaries for travelling by Land, in case there are no means of going by Sea; & likewise, to observe and obey all such orders as shall be given by You or Persons appointed by you from time to time for quartering Troops, impressing Carriages, & providing all necessaries for such Forces as shall arrive or be raised in America, and y^t the s^d several Services shall be performed at the charge of y^e respective Governments, wherein the same shall happen. It is our Will & Pleasure y^t you should, pursuant thereto, apply to our s^d Governors, or any of them, upon all such Exigencies." 6. The Governors had been directed "to endeavor to prevail upon y^e Assemblies of their respective Provinces to raise forthwith as large a sum as can be afforded as their contribution to a common Fund, to be employed provisionally for y^e general Service in North America." Braddock was urged to assist in this and have great care as to its expenditure. 7. Concerns Braddock's relations with the colonial governors; especially directing that a Council of War which shall include them be formed to determine, by majority vote, matters upon which no course has been defined. 8. "You will not only cultivate y^e best Harmony & Friendship possible with y^e several Governors of our Colonies & Provinces, but likewise with y^e Chiefs of y^e Indian Tribes ... to endeavor to engage them to take part & act with our Forces, in such operations as you shall think most expedient." 9. Concerns securing the alliance and interest of the Indians and giving them presents. 10. Orders Braddock to prevent any commerce between the French and the English provinces. 11. Concerning the relative precedency of royal and colonial commissions. 12. Describes the copies of documents enclosed to Braddock concerning previous relations with the colonies for defense against French encroachment; "... And as Extracts of Lieut Gov^r Dinwiddie's Letters of May 10^{th}, June 18^{th}, & July 24^{th}, relating to the Summons of the Fort which was erecting on y^e Forks of y^e Monongahela, and y^e Skirmish y^t followed soon after, & likewise of y^e action in the Great Meadows, near the River Ohio, are herewith delivered to you, you will be fully acquainted with what has hitherto happened of a hostile Nature upon the Banks of that River." 13. Concerns future correspondence between Braddock and the Secretaries of State to whom his reports were to be sent. The communication from the Duke of Cumberland written by his Aide, Colonel Napier, throws much light upon the verbal directions which Braddock received before he sailed: "His Royal Highness the Duke, in the several audiences he has given you, entered into a particular explanation of every part of the service you are about to be employed in; and as a better rule for the execution of His Majesty's instructions, he last Saturday communicated to you his own sentiments of this affair, and since you were desirous of forgetting no part thereof, he has ordered me to deliver them to you in writing. His Royal Highness has this service very much at heart, as it is of the highest importance to his majesty's American dominions, and to the honour of his troops employed in those parts. His Royal Highness likewise takes a particular interest in it, as it concerns you, whom he recommended to his majesty to be nominated to the chief command. "His Royal Highness's opinion is, that immediately after your landing, you consider what artillery and other implements of war it will be necessary to transport to Will's Creek for your first operation on the Ohio, that it may not fail you in the service; and that you form a second field train, with good officers and soldiers, which shall be sent to Albany and be ready to march for the second operation at Niagara. You are to take under your command as many as you think necessary of the two companies of artillery that are in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland as soon as the season will allow, taking care to leave enough to defend the Island. Captain Ord, a very experienced officer, of whom his Royal Highness has a great opinion, will join you as soon as possible. "As soon as Shirley's and Pepperel's regiments are near complete, his Royal Highness is of opinion you should cause them to encamp, not only that they may sooner be disciplined, but also to draw the attention of the French and keep them in suspense about the place you really design to attack. His Royal Highness does not doubt that the officers and captains of the several companies will answer his expectation in forming and disciplining their respective troops. The most strict discipline is always necessary, but more particularly so in the service you are engaged in. Wherefore his Royal Highness recommends to you that it be constantly observed among the troops under your command, and to be particularly careful that they be not thrown into a panic by the Indians, with whom they are yet unacquainted, whom the French will certainly employ to frighten them. His Royal Highness recommends to you the visiting your posts night and day; that your Colonels and other officers be careful to do it; and that you yourself frequently set them the example; and give all your troops plainly to understand that no excuse will be admitted for any surprise whatsoever. [Illustration: VIEW OF FORT CUMBERLAND IN 1755] "Should the Ohio expedition continue any considerable time, and Pepperell's and Shirley's regiments be found sufficient to undertake in the mean while the reduction of Niagara, his Royal Highness would have you consider whether you could go there in person, leaving the command of the troops on the Ohio to some officer on whom you might depend, unless you shall think it better for the service to send to those troops some person whom you had designed to command on the Ohio; but this is a nice affair, and claims your particular attention. Colonel Shirley is the next commander after you, wherefore if you should send such an officer he must conduct himself so as to appear only in quality of a friend or counsellor in the presence of Colonel Shirley: and his Royal Highness is of opinion that the officer must not produce or make mention of the commission you give him to command except in a case of absolute necessity. "The ordering of these matters may be depended on, if the expedition at Crown Point can take place at the same time that Niagara is besieged. "If after the Ohio expedition is ended it should be necessary for you to go with your whole force to Niagara it is the opinion of his Royal Highness that you should carefully endeavour to find a shorter way from the Ohio thither than that of the Lake; which however you are not to attempt under any pretense whatever without a moral certainty of being supplied with provisions, &c. As to your design of making yourself master of Niagara, which is of the greatest consequence, his Royal Highness recommends to you to leave nothing to chance in the prosecution of that enterprize. "With regard to the reducing of Crown Point, the provincial troops being best acquainted with the country, will be of the most service. "After the taking of this fort his Royal Highness advises you to consult with the Governors of the neighboring provinces, where it will be most proper to build a fort to cover the frontiers of those provinces. "As to the forts which you think ought to be built (and of which they are perhaps too fond in that country), his Royal Highness recommends the building of them in such a manner, that they may not require a strong garrison. He is of opinion that you ought not to build considerable forts, cased with stone, till the plans and estimates thereof have been sent to England and approved of by the Government here. His Royal Highness thinks that stockaded forts, with pallisadoes and a good ditch, capable of containing 200 men or 400 upon an emergency, will be sufficient for the present. "As Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, who commands at Nova Scotia, hath long protracted the taking of Beau-Sejour, his Royal Highness advises you to consult with him, both with regard to the time and the manner of executing that design. In this enterprise his Royal Highness foresees that his majesty's ships may be of great service, as well by transporting the troops and warlike implements, as intercepting the stores and succors that might be sent to the French either by the Baye Françoise, or from Cape Breton by the Baye Verte on the other side of the Isthmus. "With regard to your winter quarters after the operations of the campaign are finished, his Royal Highness recommends it to you to examine whether the French will not endeavor to make some attempts next season and in what parts they will most probably make them. In this case it will be most proper to canton your troops on that side, at such distances, that they may easily be assembled for the common defence. But you will be determined in this matter by appearances, and the intelligence, which it hath been recommended to you to procure by every method immediately after your landing. It is unnecessary to put you in mind how careful you must be to prevent being surprised. His Royal Highness imagines that your greatest difficulty will be the subsisting of your troops. He therefore recommends it to you to give your chief attention to this matter, and to take proper measures relative thereto with the Governors and with your quartermasters and commissaries. "I hope that the extraordinary supply put on board the fleet, and the 1000 barrels of beef destined for your use, will facilitate and secure the supplying of your troops with provisions. "I think I have omitted nothing of all the points wherein you desired to be informed: if there should be any intricate point unthought of, I desire you would represent it to me now, or at any other time; and I shall readily take it upon me to acquaint his Royal Highness thereof, and shall let you know his opinion on the subject. "I wish you much success with all my heart; and as this success will infinitely rejoice all your friends, I desire you would be fully persuaded that no body will take greater pleasure in acquainting them thereof, than him, who is, &c." If excuse is needed for offering in such detail these orders, it is that few men have ever suffered more heavily in reputation and in person because of the failures, misconceptions, and shortcomings of others than the man who received these orders and attempted to act upon them. These instructions and the letter from the Duke of Cumberland make two things very clear: it is clear from the King's instructions (item 12) that the campaign to the Ohio Valley from Virginia was to be the important _coup_ of the summer; the documents mentioned were to acquaint Braddock "with what has hitherto happened of a hostile Nature upon the Banks of that River." This is made more certain by one of the first sentences in the Duke of Cumberland's letter, "that immediately after your landing, you consider what artillery and other implements of war it will be necessary to transport to Will's Creek for your first operation on the Ohio." It is also clear that Braddock was helplessly dependent upon the success with which the American governors carried out the royal orders previously sent to them. They had been ordered to raise money and troops, provide provisions, open the necessary roads, supply carriages and horses, and conciliate and arm the Indian nations on the frontier. How far they were successful it will be proper to study later; for the moment, let us consider the destination of the little army that set sail, after innumerable delays, from the Downs December 21, 1754, led by the famed "Centurian" whose figure-head adorns Greenwich Hospital today. Sending Braddock and his army to Virginia against the French on the Ohio was a natural blunder of immeasurable proportions. It was natural, because all eyes had been turned to Virginia by the activity of the Ohio Company, Washington's campaign of the preceding year, and the erection of Fort Cumberland on the farthest frontier. These operations gave a seeming importance to the Virginia route westward which was all out of harmony with its length and the facilities offered. "Before we parted," a friend of Braddock wrote concerning the General's last night in London, "the General told me that he should never see me more; for he was going with a handful of men to conquer whole nations; and to do this they must cut their way through unknown woods. He produced a map of the country, saying, at the same time, 'Dear Pop, we are sent like sacrifices to the altar.'" This gloomy prophecy was fulfilled with a fatal accuracy for which the choice of the Virginia route was largely responsible. Braddock's campaign had been fully considered in all its bearings in the royal councils, and the campaign through Virginia to Fort Duquesne seems to have been definitely decided upon. Even before Braddock had crossed half of the Atlantic his Quartermaster-General, St. Clair, had passed all the way through Virginia and Maryland to Fort Cumberland in carrying out orders issued to him before Braddock had reached England from Gibraltar. "Having procured from the Governors of Pennsylvania and Virginia and from other sources," writes Mr. Sargent, "all the maps and information that were obtainable respecting the country through which the expedition was to pass, he [St. Clair] proceeded in company with Governor Sharpe of Maryland upon a tour of inspection to Will's Creek." He inspected the Great Falls of the Potomac and laid plans for their being made passable for boats in which the army stores were to be shipped to Fort Cumberland, and had made contracts for the construction of the boats. He laid out a camp at Watkin's Ferry. It is doubtful whether Braddock had ever had one word to say in connection with all these plans which irrevocably doomed him to the almost impossible feat of making Fort Cumberland a successful base of supplies and center of operations against the French. Moreover the Virginia route, being not only one of the longest on which Braddock could have approached the French, was the least supplied with any manner of wagons. "For such is the attention," wrote Entick, "of the Virginians towards their staple trade of tobacco, that they scarce raise as much corn, as is necessary for their own subsistence; and their country being well provided with water-carriage in great rivers an army which requires a large supply of wheel-carriages and beasts of burden, could not expect to be furnished with them in a place where they are not in general use."[5] "Their Produce is Tobacco," wrote one of Braddock's army, of the Virginians, "they are so attached to that, and their Avarice to raise it, makes them neglect every Comfort of Life." As has often been said, Carlisle in Pennsylvania would have made a far better center of operations than Fort Cumberland, and eventually it proved to be Pennsylvania wagons in which the stores of the army were transported--without which the army could not have moved westward from Fort Cumberland one single mile. "Mr. Braddock had neither provisions nor carriage for a march of so considerable a length, which was greatly increased and embarrassed by his orders to take the rout of Will's Creek; which road, as it was the worst provided with provisions, more troublesome and hazardous, and much more about, than by way of Pennsylvania."[6] Not to use superlatives, it would seem that the American colonial governors and St. Clair might have presented to Braddock the difficulties of the Virginia route as compared with the Pennsylvania route early enough to have induced the latter to make Carlisle his base for the Ohio campaign; but there is no telling now where the blunder was first made; a writer in _Gentleman's Magazine_ affirmed that the expedition was "sent to _Virginia_ instead of _Pennsylvania_, to their insuperable disadvantage, merely to answer the lucerative views of a friend of the ministry, to whose share the remittances would then fall at the rate of 2-1/2 _per cent_ profit."[7] Even the suspicion of such treachery as sending Braddock to Virginia to indulge the purse of a favorite is the more revolting because of the suggestion in the letter from the Duke of Cumberland that Braddock, personally, favored an attack on Fort Niagara--which, it has been universally agreed, was the thing he should have done. "As to _your design_ of making yourself master of Niagara"--the italics are mine--wrote Cumberland; and, though he refers at the beginning to their numerous interviews, this is the sole mention throughout the letter of any opinion or plan of Braddock's. "Had General _Braddock_ made it his first business to secure the command of lake Ontario, which he might easily have done soon enough to have stopt the _force_ that was sent from _Canada_ to _Du Quesne_, that fort must have been surrendered to him upon demand; and had he gone this way to it, greater part of that vast sum might have been saved to the nation, which was expended in making a waggon road, through the woods and mountains, the way he went."[8] Yet Cumberland's orders were distinct to go to Niagara by way of Virginia and Fort Duquesne. Horace Walpole's characterization of Braddock is particularly graphic and undoubtedly just--"desperate in his fortune, brutal in his behavior, obstinate in his sentiments, intrepid and capable."[9] The troops given him for the American expedition were well suited to bring out every defect in his character; these were the fragments of the 44th and 48th regiments, then stationed in Ireland. Being deficient (even in time of peace), both had to be recruited up to five hundred men each. The campaign was unpopular and the recruits secured were of the worst type--"who, had they not been in the army, would probably have been in Bridewell [prison]." Walpole wrote, "the troops allotted to him most ill-chosen, being draughts of the most worthless in some Irish regiments, and anew disgusted by this species of banishment."[10] "The mutinous Spirit of the Men encreases," wrote an officer of Braddock's army during the march to Fort Duquesne, "but we will get the better of that, we will see which will be tired first, they of deserving Punishments, or we of inflicting them ... they are mutinous, and this came from a higher Spring than the Hardships here, for they were tainted in _Ireland_ by the factious Cry against the L-- L-- Ld G--, and the Primate; the wicked Spirit instilled there by Pamphlets and Conversation, got amongst the common Soldiers, who, tho' they are _Englishmen_, yet are not the less stubborn and mutinous for that." Thus the half-mutinous army, and its "brutal," "obstinate," "intrepid," and "capable" commander fared on across the sea to Virginia during the first three months of the memorable year of 1755. By the middle of March the entire fleet had weighed anchor in the port of Alexandria, Virginia. The situation could not be described better than Entick has done in the following words: "Put all these together, what was extraordinary in his [Braddock's] conduct, and what was extraordinary in the way of the Service, there could be formed no good idea of the issue of such an untoward expedition." CHAPTER III FROM ALEXANDRIA TO FORT CUMBERLAND What it was that proved to be "extraordinary in the way of the Service" General Braddock soon discovered, and it is a fair question whether, despite all that has been written concerning his unfitness for his position, another man with one iota less "spirit" than Braddock could have done half that Braddock did. The Colonies were still quite asleep to their danger; the year before, Governor Dinwiddie had been at his wits' end to raise in Virginia a few score men for Fry and Washington, and had at last succeeded by dint of drafts and offers of bounty in western lands. Pennsylvania was hopelessly embroiled in the then unconstitutional question of equal taxation of proprietary estates. The New York assembly was, and not without reason, clannish in giving men and money for use only within her own borders. It is interesting to notice the early flashes of lurking revolutionary fire in the Colonies when the mother-country attempted to wield them to serve her own politic schemes. Braddock was perhaps one of the first Englishmen to suggest the taxation of America and, within a year, Walpole wrote concerning instructions sent to a New York Governor, that they "seemed better calculated for the latitude of Mexico and for a Spanish tribunal than for a free rich British Settlement, and in such opulence and of such haughtiness, that suspicion had long been conceived of their meditating to throw off their dependence on their mother country."[11] It would have been well for the provinces if they had postponed for a moment their struggle against English methods, and planned as earnestly for the success of English arms as they did when defeat opened the floodgates of murder and pillage all along their wide frontiers. But it is not possible to more than mention here the struggles between the short-sighted assemblies and the short-sighted royal governors. The practical result, so far as Braddock was concerned, was the ignoring, for the greater part, of all the instructions sent from London. This meant that Braddock was abandoned to the fate of carrying out orders wretchedly planned under the most trying circumstances conceivable. Instead of having everything prepared for him, he found almost nothing prepared, and on what had been done he found he could place no dependence. Little wonder the doomed man has been remembered as a "brute" in America! To have shouldered the blame for the lethargy of the Colonies, for the jealousy of their governors, and for the wretchedness of the orders given Braddock, would have made any man brutish in word and action. Pennsylvanians have often accused Washington of speaking like a "brute" when, no doubt in anger, he exclaimed that the officials of that Province should have been flogged for their indifference; they were, God knows,--but by the Indians after Braddock's defeat. The desperateness of Braddock's situation became very plain by the middle of April, when the Governors of the Colonies met at his request at the camp at Alexandria to determine upon the season's campaigns. But it was not until later that he knew the full depths of his unfortunate situation. As early as March 18 Braddock wrote Sir Thomas Robinson a most discouraging letter, but on April 19, after the Governors' Council, another letter to Robinson shows the exact situation. As to the fund which the Colonies had been ordered to raise, the Governors "gave it as their unanimous opinion that such a Fund can never be establish'd in the Colonies without the Aid of Parliament."[12] They were therefore "unanimously of the Opinion that the Kings Service in the Colonies, and the carrying on of the present Expedition must be at a stand, unless the General shall think proper to make use of his Credit upon the Government at home to defray the Expense of all the Operations under his Direction."[12] In Braddock's letter of April 19 he affirms "The £20,000 voted in Virginia has been expended tho not yet collected; Pennsylvania and Maryland still refuse to contribute anything; New York has raised £5,000 Currency for the use of the Troops whilst in that province, which I have directed to be applied for the particular Service of the Garrison at Oswego.... I shall march from this place for Frederick tomorrow Morning in my Way to Will's Creek, where I should have been before this time, had I not been prevented by waiting for the artillery, from which I still fear further delays, I hope to be upon the mountains early in May and some time in June to have it in my power to dispatch an Express with some Account of the Event of our operations upon the Ohio."[13] The disappointed man was not very sanguine of success, but adds, "I hope, Sir, there is good prospect of success in every part of the plan I have laid before you, but it is certain every single attempt is more likely to succeed from the Extensiveness of it."[13] By this he meant that the French, attacked at several points at once, would not be able to send reinforcements from one point to another. But more serious disappointments awaited Braddock--a great part of the definite promises made by Governor Dinwiddie were never to be realized. The governor and Sir John St. Clair had promised Braddock that twenty-five hundred horses and two hundred wagons would be in readiness at Fort Cumberland to transport the army stores across the mountains, and that a large quantity of beeves and other provisions would be awaiting the army through July and August. Braddock was also promised the support of a large force of Indians and, conformably to his orders, had been careful to send the usual presents to the tribes in question. He soon learned, however, that the short-sighted Assemblies of both Virginia and Pennsylvania had already alienated the Indians whom they should have attached to their cause, and but a handful were faithful now when the crisis had come; for the faithfulness of these few Braddock was perhaps largely in debt to Washington, whom they followed during the campaign of the preceding year. As to the details of his miserable situation, nothing is of more interest than the frank letter written by Braddock to Sir John Robinson from Fort Cumberland, June 5: "I had the Honor of writing to you from Frederick the latter end of April. "On the 10th of May I arrived at this place, and on the 17th the train join'd me from Alexandria after a March of twenty seven days, having met with many more Delays and Difficulties than I had even apprehended, from the Badness of the Roads, Scarcity of Forage, and a general Want of Spirit in the people to forward the Expedition. "I have at last collected the whole Force with which I propose to march to the Attack of Fort Duquesne, amounting to about two thousand effective Men, eleven hundred of which Number are Americans of the southern provinces, whose slothful and languid Disposition renders them very unfit for Military Service. I have employ'd the properest officers to form and discipline them and great pains has and shall be taken to make them as useful as possible. "When I first came to this place I design'd to have refresh'd the Troops by a few days Rest, but the Disappointments I have met with in procuring the Number of Wagons and Horses necessary for my March over the Mountains have detained me near a Month. "Before I left Williamsburg I was informed by the Deputy Quarter Master general, who was then at this Fort, that 2500 Horses and 200 Wagons might be depended upon from Virginia and Maryland, but as I had the utmost reason to fear a Disappointment from my daily Experience of the Falsehood of every person with whom I was concern'd, I therefore before I left Frederick, desired Mr. Franklin, postmaster of Pennsylvania, and a Man of great Influence in that Province, to contract for 150 Waggons and a Number of Horses, which he has executed with great punctuality and Integrity, and is almost the only Instance of Ability and Honesty I have known in these provinces; His Waggons and Horses have all joined me, and are indeed my whole Dependence, the great promises of Virginia and Maryland having produc'd only about twenty Waggons and two hundred Horses: With the Number I now have I shall be enabled with the utmost difficulty to move from this place, marching with one half of the provision I entended and having been oblig'd to advance a large Detachment in order to make a Deposite of provisions upon the Alliganey Mountains about five days March from me. [Illustration: MAP OF BRADDOCK'S ROAD (ABOUT 1759) [_From original in British Museum_]] "It would be endless, Sir, to particularize the numberless Instances of the Want of public and private Faith, and of the most absolute Disregard of all Truth, which I have met with in carrying on of His Majesty's Service on this continent. I cannot avoid adding one or two Instances to what I have already given. "A Contract made by the Governor of Virginia for 1100 Beeves was laid before me to be delivered in July and August for the subsistence of the Troops, which Contract he had entered into upon the Credit of twenty thousand pounds Currency voted by the Assembly for the Service of the Expedition. Depending upon this I regulated my Convoys accordingly, and a few days since the Contractors inform'd me that the Assembly had refus'd to fulfill the Governors Engagements, and the Contract was consequently void: as it was an Affair of the greatest Importance, I immediately offer'd to advance the Money requir'd by the Terms of the Contract, but this the Contractor rejected, unless I would pay him one third more; and postpone the Delivery of the Beeves two Months, at which time they would have been of no use to me. "Another Instance is the Agent employ'd in the Province of Maryland for furnishing their Troops with provision, who delivered it in such Condition that it is all condemn'd upon a Survey, and I have been obliged to replace it by sending to the Distance of an hundred Miles. "This Behavior in the people does not only produce infinite Difficulty in carrying on His Majesty's Service but also greatly increases the Expense of it, the Charge thereby occasion'd in the Transportation of provision and Stores through an unsettled Country (with which even the Inhabitants of the lower parts are entirely unacquainted) and over a continued succession of Mountains, is many times more than double the original Cost of them; for this reason I am obliged to leave a Quantity of provision at Alexandria, which would be of great Service to use at this place. The Behaviour of the Governments appears to me to be without excuse, but it may be some Extenuation of the Guilt of the lower Class of people, that upon former occasions their assistance in publick has been ill rewarded, and their payments neglected; the bad Effects of which proceeding we daily experience. "As I have His Majesty's Orders to establish as much as possible a good understanding with the Indians, I have gathered some from the Frontier of Pennsylvania chiefly of the Six Nations, with whom I have had two or three Conferences, and have given them proper Presents; the Number already with me is about fifty, and I have some hopes of more: Upon my first Arrivall in America, I received strong assurances of the assistance of a great Number of Southern Indians, which I have entirely lost through the Misconduct of the Government of Virginia: And indeed the whole Indian Affairs have been so imprudently and dishonestly conducted, that it was with the greatest difficulty I could gain a proper Confidence with those I have engag'd, and even that could not be attain'd, nor can be preserv'd without a great Expense. "The Nature of the Country prevents all Communication with the French but by Indians, and their Intelligence is not much to be depended upon; they all agree the Number of French now in Fort Duquesne is very inconsiderable, but that they pretend to expect large Reinforcements. "I have an Account of the arrival of the two thousand Arms for the New England Forces, and that they are sailed for Nova Scotia. Batteaus and Boats are preparing for the Forces destined to the Attacks of Niagara and Crown Point, but the province of New York, which by its situation must furnish the greater part, do not act with so much vigor as I could wish. "In order to secure a short and easy Communication with the province of Pensilvania, after the Forces have pass'd the Alligany Mountains, I have apply'd to Governor Morris to get a Road cut from Shippensburg in that Province to the River Youghyaughani; up which he informs me he has set a proper Number of Men at work, and that it will be compleated in a Month: This I look upon to be an Affair of the greatest Importance, as well for securing future Supplies of Provisions, as for obtaining more speedy Intelligence of what passes in the Northern Colonies.[14] "I wait now for the last Convoy and shall, if I do not meet with further Disappointments, begin my March over the Alleghaney Mountains in about five days. The Difficulties we have to meet with by the best Accounts are very great; the Distance from hence to the Forts is an hundred and ten miles, a Road to be cut and made the whole way with infinite Toil and Labor, over rocky Mountains of an excessive Height and Steepness, and many Stoney Creeks and Rivers to cross." Braddock's army under Halket and Dunbar proceeded to Fort Cumberland from Alexandria by various routes. Governor Sharpe had had a new road built from Rock Creek to Fort Cumberland;[15] this was probably Dunbar's route and is given as follows in Braddock's Orderly Books:[16] MILES To Rock Creek[17] -- To Owen's Ordinary 15 To Dowdens 15 To Frederick 15 From Fred^k on y^e road to Conogogee 17 From that halting place to Conogogee 18 From Conogogee to John Evens 16 To the Widow Baringer 18 To George Polls 9 To Henry Enock's 15 To Cox's at y^e mouth of little Cacaph 12 To Col. Cresaps 8 To Wills Creek 16 ---- 174 Halket's regiment went from Alexandria to Winchester, Virginia by the following route as given in Braddock's Orderly Books: MILES To y^e old Court House 18 To M^r Colemans on Sugar Land Run where there is Indian Corn &c. 12 To M^r Miners 15 To M^r Thompson y^e Quaker wh is 3000 wt corn 12 To M^r They's y^e Ferry of Shanh 17 From M^r They's to Winchester 23 -- 97 At Winchester Halket was only five miles distant from "Widow Baringer's" on Dunbar's road from Frederick to Fort Cumberland. One of the few monuments of Braddock's days stands beside the Potomac, within the limits of the city of Washington. It is a gigantic rock, the "Key of Keys," now almost lost to sight and forgotten. It may still be found, and efforts are on foot to have it appropriately marked. It is known in tradition as "Braddock's Rock"--on the supposition that here some of Braddock's men landed just below the mouth of Rock Creek en route to Frederick and Fort Cumberland. It is unimportant whether the legend is literally true.[18] A writer, disputing the legend, yet affirms that the public has reason "to require that the destructive hand of man be stayed, and that the remnants of the ancient and historic rock should be rescued from oblivion." The rock may well bear the name of Braddock, as the legend has it. Nothing could be more typical of the man--grim, firm, unreasoning, unyielding. CHAPTER IV A SEAMAN'S JOURNAL One of the most interesting documents relative to Braddock's expedition is a _Journal_ kept by one of the thirty seamen sent with Braddock by Commodore Keppel. The original manuscript was presented by Colonel Macbean to the Royal Artillery Library, Woolwich, and is first published here. An expanded version of this document was published in Winthrop Sargent's _History of Braddock's Expedition_, entitled "The Morris Journal"--so called because it was in the possession of the Rev. Francis-Orpen Morris, Nunburnholme Rectory, Yorkshire, who had published it in pamphlet form.[19] Concerning its authorship Mr. Sargent says, "I do not know who was the author of this Journal: possibly he may have been of the family of Capt. Hewitt. He was clearly one of the naval officers detached for this service by Com. Keppel, whom sickness detained at Fort Cumberland during the expedition."[20] A comparison of the expanded version with the original here printed shows that the "Morris Journal" was written by Engineer Harry Gordon of the 48th Artillery. The entry in the expanded version for June 2 reads: "Col. Burton, Capt. Orme, Mr Spendlowe and self went out to reconnoitre the road."[21] In the original, under the same date, we read: "Colonel Burton, Capt. Orme, Mr Engineer Gordon & Lieut Spendelow were order'd to reconnoitre the Roads." Why Mr. Gordon desired to suppress his name is as inexplicable as the failure of the Rev. Francis-Orpen Morris, who compared the expanded and the original manuscripts, to announce it. The proof is made more sure by the fact that Mr. Gordon usually refers to himself as an "Engineer," as in the entry for June 3: "This morning an Engineer and 100 men began working on the new road...." In the original the name is given: "Engineer Gordon with 100 Pioneers began to break Ground on the new Road...."[22] He refers to himself again on July 9 as "One of our Engineers": "One of our Engineers, who was in the front of the Carpenters marking the road, saw the Enemy first."[23] It is well known that Gordon first caught sight of the enemy and the original journal affirms this to have been the case: "Mr Engineer Gordon was the first Man that saw the Enemy." Mr. Sargent said the author "was clearly one of the naval officers detached ... by Com. Keppel." Though Mr. Gordon, as author, impersonated a seaman, there is certainly very much more light thrown on the daily duties of an engineer than on those of a sailor; there is far more matter treating of cutting and marking Braddock's Road than of handling ropes and pulleys. It is also significant that Gordon, from first to last, was near the seamen and had all the necessary information for composing a journal of which one of them might have been the author. He was in Dunbar's regiment on the march from Alexandria--as were the seamen. He, with the carpenters, was possibly brigaded in the Second Brigade, with the seamen, and in any case he was with the van of the army on the fatal ninth as were the seamen. As to the authorship of the original journal the document gives no hint. From Mr. Gordon's attempt to cover his own identity by introducing the word "self" in the latter part of the entry of June 3, it might be supposed the original manuscript was written by the "Midshipman" referred to under that date in the original journal. But the two midshipmen given as naval officers in the expedition, Haynes and Talbot, were killed in the defeat.[24] The original journal which follows is of interest because of the description of the march of Dunbar's brigade through Maryland and Virginia to Fort Cumberland. The remainder was evidently composed from descriptions given by officers after their return to Fort Cumberland:[25] Extracts from A Journal of the Proceedings of the Detachment of Seamen, ordered by Commodore Kepple, to Assist on the late Expedition to the _Ohio_ with an impartial Account of the late Action on the Banks of the _Monongohela_ the 9^{th} of July 1755, as related by some of the Principal Officers that day in the Field, from the 10^{th} April 1755 to the 18^{th} Aug^{st}. when the Detachment of Seamen embark'd on board His Majisty's Ship Guarland at Hampton in Virginia April 10^{th} Orders were given to March to Morrow with 6 Companies of S^r P. Halket's Regiment for _Winchester_ towards _Will's Creeks_; April 11^{th} Yesterdays Orders were Countermanded and others given to furnish Eight days Provisions, to proceed to _Rock's Creek_[26] (8 Miles from Alexandria) in the Sea Horse & Nightingale Boats; April 12^{th}: Arrived at _Rock's Creek_ 5 Miles from the lower falls of _Potomack_ & 4 Miles from the Eastern branch of it; where we encamped with Colonel Dunbars Regiment April 13^{th}: Employed in loading Waggon's with Stores Provisions and all other conviniences very dear _Rock's Creek_ a very pleasant Situation. April 14^{th}: Detachment of Seamen were order'd to March in the Front: arrived at M^r. Lawrence Owen's: 15 Miles from _Rock's Creek_; and encamp'd upon good Ground 8 Miles from the Upper falls of _Potomack_ April 15^{th}: Encamp'd on the side of a Hill near M^r. Michael Dowden's;[27] 15 Miles from M^r. Owen's, in very bad Ground and in 1-1/2 foot Snow April 16^{th}: Halted, but found it extreamly difficult to get either Provisions or Forrage. April 17^{th}: March'd to _Fredericks Town_; 15 Miles from Dowden's, the road very Mountanious, March'd 11 Miles, when we came to a River call'd _Monskiso_, which empties itself into the _Potomack_; it runs very rapid; and is, after hard Rain, 13 feet deep: We ferried over in a Float for that purpose. This Town has not been settled Above 7. Years; there are 200 Houses & 2 Churches 1 Dutch, 1 English;[28] the inhabitants chiefly Dutch, Industrious, but imposing People; Provisions & Forrage in Plenty. April 18^{th}: Encamp'd with a New York Company under the Command of Captain Gates, at the North End of the Town, upon very good Ground April 19^{th}: Exercising Recruits, & airing the Tents: several Waggons arrived with Ordnance Stores, heavy Dews at Night occasion it to be very unwholsome April 20^{th}: Nothing Material happen'd April 21^{st}: The General attended by Captains Orme, Morris and Secretary Shirley; with S^r John S^t Clair; arrived at Head Quarters. April 24^{th} inactive[29]. April 25^{th}: Ordnance Stores Arrived, with 80 Recruits for the 2 Regiments April 27^{th}: Employ'd in preparing Harness for the Horses April 29^{th}: March'd to M^r. Walker's 18 Miles from _Fredericks Town_; pass'd the South Ridge, commonly called the Blue Ridge or _Shanandoh Mountains_ Very easy Ascent and a fine Prospect ... no kind of Refreshment April 30^{th}: March'd to _Connecochiag_; 16 Miles from M^r. Walker's, Close by the _Potomack_, a very fine Situation, where we found all the Artillery Stores preparing to go by Water to Wills Creek May 1^{st}: Employed in ferrying (over the _Potomack_) the Army Baggage into Virginia in 2 Floats and 5 Batteaux; The Army March'd to M^r. John Evans, 16 Miles from y^e _Potomack_ and 20 Miles from Winchester, where we Encamp'd, and had tolerable good living with Forrage; the roads begin to be very indifferent May 2^{nd}: Halted and sent the Horses to Grass May 3^d: March'd to Widdow Barringers 18 Miles from M^r. Evans; the day was so excissive hot, that many Officers and Men could not Arrive at their Ground until Evening, this is 5 Miles from Winchester and a fine Situation May 4^{th}: March'd to M^r. Pots 9 Miles from the Widdow's where we were refresh^t with Vinison and wild Turkeys the Roads excessive bad. May 5^{th}: March'd to M^r. Henry Enocks, a place called the _forks of Cape Capon_, 16 Miles from M^r. Pots; over prodigious Mountains, and between the Same we cross'd a Run of Water in 3 Miles distance, 20 times after marching 15 Miles we came to a River called _Kahepatin_ where the Army ferried over, We found a Company of S^r Peter Halkets Regiment waiting to escort the Train of Artillery to _Wills Creek_ May 6^{th}: Halted, as was the Custom to do every third day, The Officers for passing away the time, made Horse Races and agreed that no Horse should Run over 11 Hands and to carry 14 Stone May 7^{th}: March'd to M^r. Coxs's by the side of y^e _Potomack_ 12 Miles from M^r. Enock's, and Encamped we cross'd another run of Water 19 Times in 2 Miles Roads bad. May 8^{th}: Ferried over the River into _Maryland_; and March'd to M^r. Jacksons, 8 Miles from M^r. Coxs's where we found a Maryland Company encamp'd in a fine Situation on the Banks of the _Potomack_; with clear'd ground about it; there lives Colonel Cressop, a Rattle Snake, Colonel, and a D--d Rascal; calls himself a Frontierman, being nearest the _Ohio_; he had a Summons some time since from the French to retire from his Settlement, which they claim'd as their property, but he refused it like a man of Spirit;[30] This place is the Track of Indian Warriours, when going to War, either to the N^{o}ward, or S^{o}ward He hath built a little Fort round his House, and is resolved to keep his Ground. We got plenty of Provisions &c^a. The General arrived with Captains Orme and Morris, with Secretary Shirley and a Company of light Horse for his Guard, under the Command of Cap^t. Stewart, the General lay at the Colonels. May 9^{th}: Halted and made another Race to amuse the General D^o. 10^{th}: March'd to _Will's Creek_; and Encamp'd on a Hill to the E^{t}ward of the Fort, when the General past the Troops; Colonel Dunbar informed them, that there were a number of Indians at _Will's Creek_, that were Friends to the English therefore it was the Generals positive Orders, that they should not be Molested upon any account, upon the Generals Arrival at the Fort, He was Saluted with 17. Guns, and we found 100 Indian Men, Women & Children with 6 Companies of S^r Peter Halkets Regiment, 9 Virginian Companies and a Maryland Company. May 11^{th}: _Fort Cumberland_, is Situated within 200 Yards of _Wills Creek_ on a Hill 400 Yards from the _Potomack_, it's greatest length from East to West is 200 Yards, and breadth 40 it is built with Loggs drove into the Ground: and 12 feet above it Embrazures are cut for 12 Guns which are 4. Pounders, though 10 are only Mounted with loopholes for small Arms; The Indians were greatly surprised at the regular way of our Soldiers Marching and our Numbers. I would willingly say something of the customs & manners of them, but they are hardly to be described. The Men are tall, well made and Active, but not strong; The Women not so tall yet well proportion'd & have many Children; they paint themselves in different Manners; Red, Yellow & Black intermixt, the Men have the outer Rim of their Ears cut; and hanging by a little bit at Top and bottom: they have also a Tuft of Hair left at Top of their Heads, dress'd with Feathers.... Their Match Coat which is their chief Cloathing, is a thick Blanket thrown round them; and instead of Shoes wear Mekosins, which laces round the foot and Ankle ... their manner of carrying Children are by lacing them on a Board, and tying them with a broad Bandage with a place to rest their feet, and Boards over their Heads to keep the Sun off and this is Slung to the Womens backs. These people have no Idea of a Superior Being or of Religion and I take them to be the most ignorant, as to the Knowledge of the World and things, of any Creatures living. When it becomes dark they Return to their Camp, which is [nigh] Woods, and Dance for some Time with making the most hidious Noise. May 12^{th}: Orders for a Council of War at the Head Quarters when the Indians came, and were received by the Guard with Rested Arms, an Interpreter was directed to tell them that their Brothers, the English, who were their friends were come to assist them, that every misunderstanding in past times, should now be buried under that great Mountain (which was close by) and Accordingly the Ceremony was perform'd in giving them a string of Wampum or Beads; and the following speech was made, to Assure them that this string or Belt of Wampum was a suriety of our Friendship; and likewise a Declaration, that every one, who were Enemies to them, were consequently so to us. The Interpretor likewise assured them, the we had a Considerable Number of Men to the N^{o}Ward, under the Commands of our great War Captains Generals, Shirley, Pepperel & Johnson that were making preparations for War to settle them happily in their Countries, and make the French both ashamed & hungry, however, should any Indians absent themselves they would be deem'd our Enimies & treated as such; The Generals moreover told them, he should have presents for them soon, and would then make them another Speech, after which he parted with giving a Dram round. May 13^{th}: The Indian Camp were 1/4 Miles from the Fort which I went to visit their Houses are composed of 2 Stakes, drove into the Ground, with a Ridge Pole & Bark of Trees laid down the sides of it, w^{ch}. is all they have to Shelter them from the Weather.... The Americans & Seamen Exercising. May 14^{th}: Inactive in our Camp. I went to the Indian to see them Dance which they do once or twice a Year round a Fire, first the Women dance, whilst the Men are Sitting, and then every Women takes out her Man; dances with him; lays with him for a Week, and then Returns to her proper Husband, & lives with him.[31] May 15^{th}: 22 Casks of Beef were Surveyed and condemn'd[32] D^o. 16^{th}: Arrived L^t. Col^o. Gage with 2 Companies, and the last Division of the Train, consisting of 8 Field Pieces; 4 Howitzers and a Number of Cohorns, with 42 Store Waggons Cap^t. Bromley of S^r P. Halkets Regim^t. died May 17^{th}: Orders for the Funeral. May 18^{th}: Cap^t. Bromley was interred with great Solemnity[33]--19^{th}: the Indians came to the Generals Tent when he made them a speech to this Effect; that they would send away immediately their Wives & Children to Pensilvania, and take up the Hatchet against the French, that the great King of England their Father had sent their Wives & Children such & such presents, and he had Ordered Arms, Ammunition &c^a. to be delivered to their Warriors, and expressd a Concern for their 1/2 King killed last year--the presents consisted of Shrouds; Rings, Beads, Linnen, Knives, Wire & paint, they seem'd pleased, received their presents with 3 Belts & String of Wampum, and promised an Answer the next day in the Evening they Danced and made a most terrible Noise to shew were mightily pleased. May 20^{th}: Cap^t. Gates March'd into Camp with his New York Comp^y. The Indians met at the Generals Tent, and told him they were highly Obliged to the Great King their Father, for sending such Numbers of Men to fight for them, and they moreover promise to Join them, and do what was in their power by reconnoitring the Country, & bringing Intelligence, they were likewise oblidged to the General for expressing his Concern for the loss of their 1/2 King his Brother, and for the Presents he had made their Families. Their Chiefs Names were as follows 1^{st}: Monicatoha their Mentor, 2^d Belt of Wampum, or white Thunder, who always keep the Wampum, and has a Daughter call'd bright Lightning 3^d: The great Tree and Silver Heels, Jimy Smith and Charles all belonging to the 6 Nations, The General Assured them of his Friendship and gave his Honour, that he never would deceive them, after which they sung their Song of War, put themselves into odd postures, w^{th} Shouting and making an uncommon Noise, declaring the French to be their pepetual Enemies, which they never had done before, then the General took the Indians to the Park of Artillery, Ordered 3 Howtz^{rs}. 3:12 pounders to be Fired, the Drums beating & Fifes playing the point of War, which astonish^t but pleased the Indians greatly. They afterwards Retired to their own Camp to eat a Bullock and Dance in their usual manner, with shewing how they fight and Scalp, and expressing in their Dance, the exploits & Warlike Actions of their Ancestors and themselves--Arrived 80 Waggons from Pensylvania with Stores; and 11 likewise from Philidelpha with Liquors, Tea, Sugar, Coffe &c. to the Amount of 400£ With 20 Horses, as presents to the Officers of the 2 Regiments--An Indian came in 6 days from the French Fort, and assured us they have only 50 Men in the Fort, however they expected 900 more soon, yet they purpose blowing it up whenever the Army Appears--as this Indian was one of the Delawars, who never were our Friends he was suspected to be a Rogue--100 Carpenters were Employed in making a Float, building a Magazine & squaring Timber to make a Bridge over _Wills Creek_, The Smiths were making Miners Tools, The Bakers were baking Biscuit, and every thing was getting ready for a March. May 21^{st}: A Troop of light Horse & 2 Companies of S^r P. Halkets Regim^t. under the Command of Major Chapman came in from Winchester May 22^d: The Indians had Arms & Cloaths delivered to them D^o. 23^d: The 2 Regiments were Exercised & went through their Formings D^o. 24^{th}: Employed in Transporting the large Timber to the Fort, The Army consists of 2 Regiments, Each 700 Men; 2 _New York_, 1 Independent _Carolina_ Companies of 100 Men, 9 _Virginia_ 1 _Maryland_ Companies of 50 Men; 1 Comp^y. of Artillery of 60 & 30 Seamen May 25^{th}: Preparations for Marching: 2 Men of S^r P. Halkets were Drum'd out, and received 1000 lashes Each for Theft. May 27^{th}: The Companies employed in loading 100 Waggons w^{th}. Provisions, A Captains Guard March'd for _Winchester_ to Escort Provisions to Camp--several _Delawar_ Indians came into Camp. May 28^{th}: The _Delawar_ Indians Assembled at the Generals Tent and told him they were come to Assist him, but desired to know his Intention the General thank'd them, and said that he should March in a few days for Fort Dec Quisne, The Indians then replyed, they would return home, Collect their Warriors and meet them on his March. May 29^{th}: Major Chapman with a Detachment of 600 Soldiers March'd with 2 Field Pieces and 50 Waggons full of Provisions when S^r John S^t Clair, 2 Engineers, Lieut. Spendelow & 6 Seamen with some Indians were Order'd to clean the Roads for them. May 30^{th}: March'd in, Cap^t. Dobbs with a _North Carolina_ Company June 1^{st}: The Detachment got 15 Miles though the Roads were very bad; Lieu^t. Spendelow returned with his 6 Seamen. June 2^d: Colonel Burton, Cap^t. Orme, M^r. Engineer Gordon[34] & Lieu^t. Spendelow were order'd to reconnoitre the Roads, the latter reported that he had found a tolerable Road, which might avoid the bad Mountain that they would otherwise be obliged to pass; and accordingly it was determined to March the Army that way, it being only 2 Miles about. June 3^d: Engineer Gordon[35] with 100 Pioneers began to break Ground on the new Road, when Lieu^t. Spendelow, 1 Midshipman[36] & 10 Men were sent to the Place that leads into the Old Road, cleard away and compleated 1 Mile, June 4^{th}: 1 Midshipman & 20 Men cleard 3/4 of a Mile 5^{th}: continued working on the Roads 6^{th}: Compleated the new Road & Return'd to Camp. 7^{th}: S^r P. Halkets Brigade March'd with 2 Field Pieces and some Waggons with Provisions 1 Midshipman & 12 Seamen were Orderd to Assist the Train June 9^{th}. Inactive June 10^{th}: The General March'd w^{th}. the remaining part of the Army. 25^{th}: it was reported that a party of Indians had Surprized Kill'd, and Scalp'd 2 families to the Number of 12 within 4 Miles of y^e Fort June 26^{th}: Accounts of another family's Scalp'd within 3 Miles of us. The Governor detach'd a party to bury the Dead, and to look for the Indians, they found a Child standing in the Water scalp'd, which had 2 holes in its Skull, they brought it to the Doctor, who dressed it but Died in a Week.[37] June 10^{th}: the last Division of His Majesty's Forces March'd from _Wills Creek_ with General Braddock, when the General Arrived at the little Meadows 22 Miles from the _Creek_, and having all his Forces w^{th}. him, found that the Carriages, Pack horses &c^a. he had with him, retardid his Marches greatly, insomuch that in all probability, the French would be renforced, before he could possibly get there, provided he kept the whole Army together--he therefore selected 1200 of the Choicest Men besides Artillery & Seamen with the most Necessary Stores that might be wanted, which compleated 51 Carriages, and left the heavy Baggage Provisions &c^a. with Col^o. Dunbar and the rest of the Forces w^{th}. Orders to follow as fast as possible: then March'd & continued untill 8^{th}. July without Interruption save 8 or 9 Scalps on the March a Number much inferior to the Expectations, he Encamp'd within 8 Miles of _Fort Dec Quisne_ where he held a Councill of War, when it was unaimously agreed that they should pass the _Monongohela_ River in the Morning twice and that the advanced Party should March at 2 o'Clock in the Morning to secure that pass (the River being very broad and easily defended as the Fort was very near they thought it advisable to take that oppertunity, that the Enemy might not have a View of them, Therefore the General order'd that the Army should March over with fixt Bayonets to make a show. On the 9^{th}. July the advanced party of 400 Men March'd about 7. o'Clock some Indians Rush'd out of the Bushes, but did no Execution, the Party went on & secured both passes of the River, and at 11 the Main Body began to cross with Colours flying, Drums beating, & Fifes playing the Granadier's March, and soon formed, when they thought that the French would not Attack them, as they might have done it w^{th}. such advantages in crossing the _Monogohela_, The advanced party was 1/4 Mile before the Main Body, the Rear of which was just over the River, when the Front was attacked The 2. Granadier Comp^{ys}. formed the Flank The Piquets with the rest of the Men were Sustaining the Carpenters while they were cutting the Roads. The first Fire the Enemy gave was in Front, & they likewise gaul'd the Piquets in Flank, so that in few Minutes the Granadiers were nearly cut to pieces and drove into the greatest Confusion as was Cap^t. Polsons Comp^y. of Carpent^{rs}. As soon as the Main Body heard that the Front was Attack'd they instantly advanced to secure them but found them retreating Upon which, the General Orderd the Artillery to draw up, & the Battalion to form, by this time the Enemy had Attacked the Main Body, which faced to the Right & left and engaged them, but could not see whom they Fired at, it was in an open Road, that the Main Body were drawn up, but the Trees were excessive thick round them, And the Enemy had possession of a Hill to the Right, which consequently was a great advantage to them, Many Officers declare, that they never saw above 5 of the Enemy at one time during the whole Action Our Soldiers were Encouraged to make many Attempts by the Officers (who behaved Gloriously) to take the Hill, but they had been so intimidated before by seeing their Comrades Scalp'd in their sight and such Numbers falling, that as they advanced up towards the Hill and there Officer's being pict off which was generally the Case; they turn'd to their R^t. About & retired down the Hill. When the General perceived & was convinced that the Soldiers would not fight in a regular Manner without Officers, he devided them into small parties, and endeavour'd to surround the Enemy, but by this time the Major part of the Officers were either Kill'd or Wounded, and in short the Soldiers were totally deaf to the Commands & persuasions of the few Officers that were left unhurt. The General had 4 Horses shot under him before he was wounded, which was towards the latter part of the Action, when he was put into a Waggon with great dificulty as he was very Sollicitious for being left in the Field. The Retreat now became general, and it was the opinion of many people that had we greater Numbers, it would have been just the same thing, as our advanc'd party never regained the Ground they were first Attacked upon, it was extreamly lucky they pursued no farther than the first Crossing the River but they kill'd & Scalp'd every one they met with, The Army March'd all Night & Join'd Colonel Dunbar the next Day, 50 Miles distance from the Field of Battle, when the General order'd Col^o. Dunbar to prepare for a Retreat in Order for which, they were Obliged to destroy great quantities of Stores and Provisions, to furnish the Wounded Officers & Soldiers with Waggons The Generals Pains encreased hourly, and on the 12^{th} of July he Died greatly lamented by the whole Army, was decently though privately buried the next Morning. The Numbers kill'd; Wounded & left in the Field as appeared by the Returns of the different Companies were 896 besides Officers The 2 Companies of the Grenadiers and Carpenters sufferd most Col^o. Dunbars Grenadiers were 79 Compleat out of which 9 Returned untouch'd. S^r P. Halkets, were 69 & only 13 came out of y^e Field Every Grenadier Officer was either kill'd or Wounded The Seamen had 11 Kill'd & wounded out of 33 it was impossible to tell the exact Nunbers of the Enemy but it was premised by the continual smart Fire the kept during the whole Action, that they must have at least Man for Man M^r. Engineer Gordon[38] was the first Man that saw the Enemy, being in the Front of the Carpenters, making & Picketing the Roads for them, and he declared where he first descover'd them, that they were on the Run, which plainly shews they were just come from _Fort Dec Quesne_ and that their principal Intention was to secure the pass of _Monnongohela River_ but the Officer who was their leader, dressed like an Indian, w^{th}. a Gorgeton, waved his Hatt, by way of Signal to disperse to y^e Right and left forming a half Moon Col^o. Dunbar continued his Retreat and Arrived with the Remains of the Army at _Fort Cumberland_ the 20^{th}. July, and the 21^{st}. the Wounded Officers & Soldiers were brought in.... 30^{th}. July Orders were given for the Army to March the 2^{nd}. August 1^{st}. August Col^o. Dunbar received a Letter from Commodore Kepple to send the Seamen to _Hampton_ and accordingly the 2^d. they March'd with the Army & on the 3^d. August left them August 5^{th}. Arrived at _Winchester_ August 11^{th}. March'd into _Fredericksburgh_ and hired a Vessel to carry the Seamen to _Hampton_ where they embarked on board his Majesty's Ship Guarland the 18^{th}. August 1755. 4:6 pounders. 2. 12 pounders, 3 Howitzers, 8 Cohorns, 51 Carriages of Provisions Ammunition Hospital Stores, The Generals private Chest which had about 1000£ in it with 200 Horses loaded with Officers Baggage.[39] CHAPTER V THE BATTLE OF THE MONONGAHELA Sir Peter Halket moved out from Fort Cumberland on June 7 with a brigade comprising the 44th Regiment, two Independent Companies of New York, two companies of Virginia Rangers, one of Maryland Rangers, a total of nine hundred and eighty-four men, six hundred woodchoppers under Sir John St. Clair having been sent forward to widen and improve Washington's road. The next day but one Colonel Thomas Dunbar marched away with another brigade comprising the 48th Regiment, a company of carpenters, three companies of Virginia Rangers, and one from South and North Carolina each, a total of nine hundred and ninety-three men. On the tenth, Braddock and his aides and the rest of the army which was approximately two thousand two hundred strong--a force powerful enough to have razed Duquesne, Venango, La Boeuf, Presque Isle, and Niagara to the ground--if it could have reached them. This Franklin who secured Braddock horses and wagons was a prophet. And once he predicted that this "slender line" of an army would be greatly in danger of Indian ambuscade "and be cut, like a thread, into several pieces, which, from their distance, cannot come up in time to support each other." Braddock laughed at the prophecy, but his army had not been swallowed up in the gloom of the forests two days before its line was thinner and longer than Braddock could ever have believed. When encamped at night, the line of wagons compactly drawn together was half a mile long; in marching order by day the army was often spread out to a length of four miles. And even in this fashion it could only creep along. Halket with the first division made only five miles in three days. In ten days Braddock had only covered the twenty-four miles to Little Crossings. The road makers followed implicitly the Indian path where it was possible; when on the high ground the road was so rugged that many wagons were entirely demolished and more temporarily disabled; when off this track in the ravines they were buried axle deep in the bogs. To haul the wagons and cannon over this worst road ever trod Braddock had the poorest horses available. All the weak, spavined, wind-broken, and crippled beasts in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia were palmed off on Braddock by unscrupulous contractors. And horses, dead or dying, were always left with the demolished wagons. "There has been vile management in regard to horses," wrote Washington; before the army had covered one third of its journey there were not enough to draw all the wagons, the strongest being sent back each day to bring up the wagons left behind the morning before. The continuous diet of salt meat brought an epidemic of bloody flux on the army; some died, many were sick. Washington's strong system was in the grasp of a fever before Little Crossings was reached. The situation now was desperate and would have appalled a less stubborn man than Edward Braddock. Acting on Washington's advice he here divided his army, preparing to push on to Fort Duquesne with a flying column of fourteen hundred men. Washington found the first western river almost dry and reasoned that Riviere aux Boeufs would be too dry to transport southward the reinforcements that were hurrying from Canada. On the nineteenth, Braddock advanced with Colonel Halket and Lieutenant Colonels Burton and Gage and Major Sparks, leaving Colonel Dunbar and Major Chapman--to their disgust--to hobble on with the sick and dying men and horses, the sorry line of wagons creaking under their heavy loads. The young Virginian Colonel was left at the very first camp in a raging fever. Though unable to push on further with the column that would capture Duquesne, yet Braddock considerately satisfied the ambition of Washington by promising that he should be brought up before the attack was made. Washington wrote home that he would not miss the capture of Duquesne "for five hundred pounds!" With the flying column were taken the Indians that were with the army but which numbered less than a dozen. Braddock has been severely blamed for his neglect of the Indians, but any earnest study of this campaign will assure the student that the commanding general was no more at fault here than for the failure of the contractors and the indifference of the colonies. He had been promised Indians as freely as stores and horses and wagons. The Indian question seems to have been handled most wretchedly since Washington's late campaign. Through the negligence of the busy-body Dinwiddie (so eager for so many unimportant matters) even the majority of the Indians who served Washington faithfully and had followed his retreating army back to Virginia were allowed to drift back to the French through sheer neglect. As none of Dinwiddie's promises were fulfilled in this respect Braddock turned in despair to Morris for such Ohio Indians as were living in Pennsylvania. There had been at least three hundred Indians of the Six Nations living in that province, but in April the Pennsylvania Assembly had resolved to "do nothing more for them"; accordingly they went westward and most of them joined the French. Morris, however, urged George Croghan to send word to the Delawares, Shawanese, Wyandots, etc., bidding them come and join Braddock's army. But Croghan brought less than fifty and Braddock was not destined to keep all of these, for Colonel Innes, commanding at Fort Cumberland, not desiring the Indian families on his hands during the absence of the fathers, persuaded Braddock that there were not enough to add to the fighting strength of the army and that a few would be as serviceable for spies as many. Nor was this bad reasoning: Braddock would have been no better off with thirty than with ten. The fact is, he was in nothing deceived more by false promises and assurances than in the matter of Indian coöperation. And was he more at fault for the lack of frontiersmen? True, he refused the services of Captain Jack and his company, but only because the latter refused to be governed by the discipline to which the rest of the army was subject; Braddock could not agree to such an arrangement and it is doubtful if Washington would have acted differently under similar circumstances. At least the Virginian had nothing to do with Captain Jack's renowned company the year before. To other border fighters Braddock gave a warm reception; Gist and Croghan, the two best known men on the frontier, held important offices in the army. It is as easy as common to lay at the door of a defeated and dead commander all the misfortunes of a campaign; whatever Braddock's errors, the fact remains that the colonies failed absolutely to make the least move to provide an Indian army for Braddock's use. Nothing could have more surely promised defeat and disgrace. The flying column flew like a partridge with a broken wing. "We set out," wrote Washington who started with it but was compelled to stop, "with less than thirty carriages, including those that transported the ammunition for the howitzers, and six-pounders, and all of them strongly horsed; which was a prospect that conveyed infinite delight to my mind, though I was excessively ill at the time. But this prospect was soon clouded, and my hopes brought very low indeed, when I found, that, instead of pushing on with vigor, without regarding a little rough road, they were halting to level every mole-hill, and to erect bridges over every brook, by which means we were four days in getting twelve miles." On the third of July the flying column had passed the Youghiogheny and were encamped ten miles north of it, forty miles from Fort Duquesne. It had not averaged three miles a day since leaving Little Crossings! Here a Council of War was held to decide whether to push on alone or await the coming of Dunbar and the wagons. Could the Grenadiers and their officers have seen through that narrow path to their destination, how quickly would their decision have been made, how eagerly would they have hurried on to the Ohio! Contrecoeur at Fort Duquesne was in a miserable plight; every returning red-skin told of the advance of the great British army in the face of Governor Duquesne's proud boast to Vaudreuil that it was impossible for the English to cross the Alleghenies in sufficient force to cause uneasiness! Braddock, despite the utter lack of proper support from the colonies, was accomplishing the eighth wonder of the world. It was desperate work. But a Bull-dog was creeping nearer each day. Throughout the winter the British ministry and the Court of Versailles had been exchanging the most ridiculous pretenses of peace while secretly preparing for war with dispatch. For every ill-recruited regiment King George sent to Virginia, King Louis sent two famous regiments to Canada, and they arrived there despite Boscawen, the English admiral, who captured two unimportant ships. Yet that was enough to precipitate the struggle and save more fables from the respective ambassadors; "I will not pardon the piracies of that insolent nation," exclaimed Louis--and open war was inevitable. At his landing at Quebec Vaudreuil found not less than twelve thousand soldiers in Canada to defend the claims of his King. But that was a long frontier to man, from Quebec to New Orleans, and in April only about one thousand men were forwarded to defend the Ohio river. Of these Contrecoeur had not more than three hundred, probably less. The summer before he had two thousand defenders, but Duquesne, blindly trusting to the ephemeral league he had made with the Alleghenies, had not been liberal again. In vain Contrecoeur sent messages northward to Venango and Presque Isle. Riviere aux Boeufs was as dry as the Youghiogheny. Inevitable surrender or capitulation stared the French commander in the face. Even the crowds of Indians within hail were not to be reckoned on; they were terrified at the proportions of Braddock's army. Accordingly, Contrecoeur made his arrangements for a capitulation, as Washington had done one year ago. Braddock had accomplished the impossible; the Indians were demoralized and took to "cooking and counciling"; Fort Duquesne was as good as captured. On the seventh Braddock reached Brush Fork of Turtle Creek, but the country immediately between him and the Ohio was so rough that the army turned westward and pitched its nineteenth encampment in Long Run valley two miles from the Monongahela. Here Washington came up with the army in a covered wagon, still weak but ready to move with the army in the morning and sleep in Duquesne that night. The whole army was infused with this hope as the ninth of July dawned. For no one questioned Braddock's success if he could once throw that army across the mountains. No one knew the situation better than Washington, and early in the campaign he wrote his brother: "As to any danger from the enemy, I look upon it as trifling." In London profane wits cited Scripture (Ezekiel xxxv: 1-10) to justify the conquest of the Ohio valley: "Moreover, the word of the Lord came unto me saying, Son of man, set thy face against Mount Seir and prophesy against it, and say unto it, thus saith the Lord God: Behold, O mount Seir, I am against thee and I will stretch out mine hand against thee and I will make thee most desolate.... Because thou hast said, These two nations and these two countries shall be mine, and we will possess it." Already subscription papers were being passed about in Philadelphia to provide festal fires to illumine the Quaker City when the news of Braddock's victory came. "Why, the d--l," exclaimed one of the enthusiasts to that odd man Franklin who did not sign his name at once, "you surely don't suppose the fort will not be taken?" "I don't know it will not be taken," replied the Postmaster-General, "but I know that the events of war are subject to great uncertainty." A jingling ballad in Chester County, Pennsylvania, was spreading throughout the frontier. It ran, in part: To arms, to arms! my jolly grenadiers! Hark, how the drums do roll it along! To horse, to horse, with valiant good cheer; We'll meet our proud foe, before it is long. Let not your courage fail you: Be valiant, stout and bold; And it will soon avail you, My loyal hearts of gold. Huzzah, my valiant countrymen!--again I say huzzah! 'Tis nobly done--the day's our own--huzzah, huzzah! March on, march on, brave Braddock leads the foremost; The battle is begun as you may fairly see. Stand firm, be bold, and it will soon be over; We'll soon gain the field from our proud enemy. A squadron now appears, my boys; If that they do but stand! Boys, never fear, be sure you mind The word of command! Huzzah, my valiant countrymen!--again I say huzzah! 'Tis nobly done--the day's our own--huzzah, huzzah! Before daybreak on the morning of the fatal ninth Lieutenant Colonel Gage moved to the Monongahela to secure the two fords the army was to use on the last day's march. At four o'clock Sir John St. Clair with two hundred and fifty men went forward to prepare the roads. At five Braddock advanced and made the first crossing at eight o'clock. He then formed his army for a triumphant march to the second ford and on to Fort Duquesne. It had been feared that, however weak, Contrecoeur would attempt to defend this ford of the Monongahela. But this fear was dissipated on receipt of the news that Gage held the second ford. Contrecoeur knew it would be foolhardy to give Braddock battle. He was in no mind to waste his men futilely. He knew an honorable capitulation was all for which he could hope. But on the 8th a captain of the regulars, M. de Beaujeu, asked leave to go out with a band to oppose Braddock's passage of the Monongahela. Reluctantly, it is said, Contrecoeur gave his permission and, the whole garrison desiring to attend Beaujeu, the commander detailed him selected troops on the condition that he could obtain the assistance of the Indians who were about the fort. The impetuous Beaujeu hurried off to the Indians and unfolded his plan to them. But they were afraid of Braddock; some of them had even gone into the English camp, at Cumberland, or in the mountains, on pretense of joining the English army; they had seen the long lines of grenadiers and wagons laden with cannon. "How, my Father," they replied, "are you so bent upon death that you would also sacrifice us? With our eight hundred men do you ask us to attack four thousand English? Truly, this is not the saying of a wise man. But we will lay up what we have heard, and tomorrow you shall know our thoughts." Baffled, Beaujeu withdrew while the redskinned allies of the French frittered away the hours in debate--and the spies brought word that Braddock was encamped in Long Run valley. The indomitable Beaujeu, however, went and examined the ground at the ford of the Monongahela, which Braddock would pass on the next day. On the ninth, however, the Indians brought word that they would not join in the unequal contest. But even as they spoke an Indian scout came running down the narrow trail toward the fort. He brought the news of Braddock's advance on the Monongahela fords. Beaujeu, cunning actor, played his last card desperately and well: "I am determined," he cried, "to go out against the enemy; I am certain of victory. What! will you suffer your father to depart alone?" The reproach stung the savage breasts. In a moment hundreds of hoarse voices were drowning the long roll of the drums. A mad scene followed; wild with enthusiasm, casks of bullets and flints and powder were rolled to fort gates and their heads knocked out. About these the savages, even while painting themselves for the fray, came in crowds, each one free to help himself as he needed. Then came the race for the ford of the Monongahela. Down the narrow trail burst the horde of warriors, led by the daring Beaujeu dressed in savage costume, an Indian gorget swinging from his neck for good fortune. Behind him poured Delawares, Ojibways, Pottawattamies, Abenakis, Caughnawagas, Iroquois, Ottawas, led by their young King Pontiac; Shawanese, Wyandots, Hurons, led by Athanasius from the mission of Lorette, who gloried in a name "torn from the most famous page of Christian history." With the six hundred savages ran two hundred Canadians and four score French regulars. This rabble could not have left Fort Duquesne before high noon; no wonder Beaujeu ran--fearing Braddock had passed the battle-ground he had chosen last night. In that case he despaired of delaying the advance even a single day; yet in one day the expected reinforcements might arrive from the north! Washington rode with Braddock today, though he rode on a pillow in his saddle. In after life he often recalled the sight of Braddock's grenadiers marching beside the Monongahela in battle array, a fine picture with the thin red line framed in the fresh green of the forests. With the receipt of Gage's note, the fear of ambuscade which had been omnipresent since the army left Fort Cumberland, vanished. During that month the Indian guides, flanking squads, and woodchoppers had rushed into camp time and again calling the companies to arms; each alarm had been false. As Fort Duquesne was neared Braddock grew doubly cautious. He even attempted to leave the Indian trail which ran through the "Narrows" and which crossed the Monongahela at the mouth of Turtle Creek. When another course was found impossible for the wagons he turned reluctantly back to the old thoroughfare, but had passed the "Narrows" safely and his advance guards now held the fords. All was well. By two o'clock Braddock was across the river, bag and baggage. Beyond, the Indian trail wound along to the uplands, skirting the heads of numerous ravines and clinging persistently, like all the trails of the Indians and buffalo, to the high ground between the brook and swamp. The ridge which the trail followed here to the second terrace was twenty rods in width, with the path near the center. On the west a deep ravine, completely hidden in the deep underbrush, lay almost parallel with the trail for a distance of over five hundred feet. On the opposite side smaller ravines also lay nearly parallel with the trail. On the high ground between these hidden ravines, and not more than two hundred feet from them, Braddock's engineers and woodchoppers widened their road for Gage's advance guard which was ordered to march on until three o'clock. As the engineers reached the extremity of the second terrace Beaujeu came bounding into sight, the pack of eight hundred wolves at his heels. Seeing the English, the daring but dismayed Frenchman stopped still in his tracks. He was an hour too late. Attempting to surprise Braddock, Beaujeu was himself surprised. But he waved his hat above his head and the crowd of warriors scattered behind him like a partridge's brood into the forest leaves. The French captain knew the ground and Braddock did not, and the ground was admirably formed for a desperate stand against the advancing army. Burton, who was just leaving the river shore, was ordered up to support Gage on the second upland after the first fire. This brought the whole army, save four hundred men, to the second terrace between the unseen ravines on the east and west. Into these ravines poured the Indian rabble. The ravine on the east being shorter than that on the west, many savages ran through it and posted themselves in the dense underbrush on the hillside. Thus, in a twinkling of an eye, the Indians running southward in the two ravines and the British northward on the high ground between them, the fatal position of the battle was quickly assumed.[40] No encounter has been more incorrectly described and pictured than the Battle of the Monongahela.[41] Braddock was not surprised; his advance guard saw the enemy long before they opened fire; George Croghan affirmed that the grenadiers delivered their first charge when two hundred yards distant from the Indians, completely throwing it away. Nor did Braddock march blindly into a deep ravine; his army was ever on the high ground, caught almost in the vortex of the cross-fire of the savages hidden on the brink of the ravines on either side, or posted on the high ground to the right.[42] The road was but twelve feet in width. Even as Burton came up, Gage's grenadiers were frightened and retreating. The meeting of the advancing and retiring troops caused a fatal confusion and delay in the narrow road. The fire from the Indians on the high ground to the right being severe, Braddock attempted to form his bewildered men and charge. It was futile. The companies were in an inextricable tangle. Finally, to reduce things to order, the various standards were advanced in different directions and the officers strove to organize their commands in separate detachments, with a hope of surrounding the savages. This, too, proved futile. The Indians on either side completely hidden in the ravines, the smoke of the rifles hardly visible through the dense underbrush, poured a deadly fire on the swarm of red-coats huddled in the narrow track. Not a rifle ball could miss its mark there. As the standards were advanced here and there, the standard bearers and the officers who followed encouraging their men to form again were shot down both from behind and before.[43] As once and again the paralyzed grenadiers broke into the forest to raid the ravines, in the vain hope of dislodging the enemy, they offered only a surer mark for the thirsty rifles toward which they ran. The Virginians took to the trees like ducks to water, but the sight enraged Braddock, mad to have the men form in battle line and charge in solid phalanx. In vain Washington pleaded to be allowed to place his men behind the trees; Braddock drove them away with the flat blade of his sword. Yet they came back and fought bravely from the trees as was their habit. But it availed nothing to fight behind trees with the enemy on both flanks; the Virginians were, after all, no safer there than elsewhere, as the death-roll plainly shows. The provincial portion of the army suffered as heavily, if not more heavily, than any other. No army could have stood its ground there and won that battle. The only chance of victory was to advance or retreat out of range of those hidden rifles. The army could not be advanced for every step brought the men nearer the very center of that terrible cross-fire. And the Bull-dog Braddock knew not the word "retreat." That was the secret of his defeat.[44] Soon there were not enough officers left to command the men, most of whom were hopelessly bewildered at seeing half the army shot down by a foe they themselves had never seen. Many survivors of the battle affirmed that they never saw above five Indians during the conflict. Braddock was mortally wounded by a ball which pierced his right arm and lung. Sir Peter Halket lay dead, his son's dead corpse lying across his own. Of twenty-one captains, seven were dead and seven wounded; of thirty-eight lieutenants, fifteen were wounded and eleven were dead; of fourteen second lieutenants or ensigns, five were wounded and three were dead; of fifty-eight sergeants, twenty were wounded and seventeen dead; of sixty-one corporals and bombardiers, twenty-two were wounded and eighteen dead; of eighteen gunners, eight were wounded and six were dead; of twelve hundred privates, three hundred and twenty-eight were wounded and three hundred and eighty-six were dead. Each Frenchman, Canadian, and Indian had hit his man and more than every other one had killed his man. Their own absolutely impregnable position can be realized when it is known that not twenty-five French, Canadians or Indians were killed and wounded. Among the first to fall was the hero of the day, Beaujeu; his Indian gorget could not save his own life, but it delayed the capture of Fort Duquesne--three years. Yet the stubborn, doomed army held its ground until the retreat was ordered. The wounded Braddock, who pleaded, it is said, to be left upon the ground, and even begged for Croghan's pistol with which to finish what a French bullet had begun, was placed in a cart and afterwards in a wagon and brought off the field.[45] No sooner was retreat ordered than it became an utter rout. Some fifty Indians pursued the army into the river, but none crossed it. Here and there efforts were made to stem the tide but to no purpose. The army fled back to Dunbar, who had now crawled along to Laurel Hill and was encamped at a great spring at the foot of what is now Dunbar's Knob, half a mile north of Jumonville's hiding place and grave. Dunbar's situation was already deplorable, even Washington having prophesied that, though he had crossed the worst of the mountain road, he could never reach Fort Duquesne. But as Braddock's demoralized army threw itself upon him, Dunbar's condition was indescribably wretched. A large portion of the survivors of the battle and of Dunbar's own command, lost to all order, hurried on toward Fort Cumberland. Dunbar himself, now senior officer in command, ordered his cannons spiked and his ammunition destroyed and, with such horses as could be of service, began to retreat across the mountains. For this he was, and has often been, roundly condemned; yet, since we have Washington's plain testimony that he could never have hauled his wagons and cannon over the thirty comparatively easy miles to Fort Duquesne, who can fairly blame him for not attempting to haul them over the sixty difficult miles to Fort Cumberland? To fortify himself, so far removed from hopes of sustenance and succor, was equally impossible. There was nothing Dunbar could do but retreat. The dying Braddock, tumbling about in a covered wagon on the rough road, spoke little to the few men who remained faithfully beside him. Only once or twice in the three days he lived did he speak of the battle; and then he only sighed to himself softly: "Who would have thought it?" Once, turning to the wounded Orme, he said: "We shall better know how to deal with them another time." During his last hours Braddock seems to have regarded his young Virginian aide, Washington, whose advice he had followed only indifferently throughout the campaign, with utmost favor, bequeathing him his favorite charger and his servant. On the night of the twelfth of July, in a camp in an Indian orchard, near what is now Braddock's Run, a mile and more east of Fort Necessity, in Great Meadows, Edward Braddock died. In the morning he was buried in the center of the roadway. Undoubtedly Washington read the service over the Briton's grave. When the army marched eastward it passed over the grave, obliterating its site from even an Indian's keen eye. In 1823, when the Braddock's Road was being repaired, what were undoubtedly his bones were uncovered, together with military trappings, etc. These were placed in the dry ground above the neighboring run, the spot being now marked by solemn pines. Whatever Braddock's faults and foibles, he accomplished a great feat in leading a comparatively powerful army across the Alleghenies, and had he been decently supported by the colonies, there would have been no doubt of his success. As it was, shamefully hampered and delayed by the procrastinating indifference of the colonies, deceived and defrauded by wolfish contractors, abandoned by the Indians because of the previous neglect of the Colonial governors and assemblies, nevertheless the campaign was a distinct success, until at the last moment, Fate capriciously dashed the chalice from Braddock's lips. The shattered army reached Fort Cumberland on July 20. The tale of disaster had preceded it. The festal fires were not kindled in Philadelphia. Now, for the first time the colonies were awakened to the true situation, and in the months following paid dearly for their supine indifference. For with Beaujeu's victory the French arms became impregnable on the Ohio. Braddock's defeat brought ten-fold more wretchedness than his victory could ever have brought of advantage. After that terrible scene of savagery at Fort Duquesne on the night of the victory, when the few prisoners taken were burned at the stake, there were no wavering Indians. And instantly the frontier was overrun with marauding bands which drove back to the inhabited parts of the country every advanced settlement. All the Virginian outposts were driven in; and even the brave Moravian missionaries in Pennsylvania and New York gave up their work before the red tide of war which now set eastward upon the long frontiers. For Shirley had likewise been beaten back from Fort Niagara, and Johnson had not captured Fort Crown Point. Two of the campaigns of 1755 were utter failures. CHAPTER VI A DESCRIPTION OF THE BACKWOODS The clearest insight into the days when Braddock's Road was built, and the most vivid pictures of the country through which it wound its course, are given in certain letters of a British officer who accompanied Braddock. No treatise on Braddock's expedition could be in any measure complete without reproducing this amusing, interesting, yet pitiful testimony to the difficulties experienced by these first English officers to enter the backwoods of America. This is given in a volume entitled _Extracts of Letters from an officer in one of those Regiments to his friend in London_, published in London in the year of Braddock's Defeat: "You desire me to let you know the Particulars of our Expedition, and an Account at large of the Nature of the Country, and how they live here; also of the Manner of the Service, and which Corps is the most agreeable to serve in, because it has been proposed to you to strive to buy a Commission here, and that you awaited my Advice to determine. Dear Sir, I love you so well that I shall at once tell you, I reckon the Day I bought my Commission the most unhappy in my Life, excepting that in which I landed in this Country. As for the Climate, it is excessive hot in Summer, and as disagreeably cold in Winter, and there is no Comfort in the Spring; none of those Months of gentle genial Warmth, which revives all Nature, and fills every Soul with vernal Delight; far from this, the Spring here is of very few Days, for as soon as the severe Frosts go off, the Heat of the neighbouring Sun brings on Summer at once, one Day shall be Frost, and the next more scorching or sultry and faint than the hottest Dog-Day in _England_. What is excessively disagreeable here is, that the Wealth of the Country consists in Slaves, so that all one eats rises out of driving and whipping these poor Wretches; this Kind of Authority so Corrupts the Mind of the Masters, and makes them so overbearing, that they are the most troublesome Company upon Earth, which adds much to the Uncomfortableness of the Place. You cannot conceive how it strikes the Mind on the first Arrival, to have all these black Faces with grim Looks round you, instead of being served by blooming Maid Servants, or genteel white Livery Men: I was invited to Supper by a rich Planter, and the Heat of the Climate, the dim Light of the Myrtle Wax-Candles, and the Number of black half-naked Servants that attended us, made me think of the infernal Regions, and that I was at Supper with _Pluto_, only there was no beautiful _Proserpine_, for the Lady of the House was more like one of the Furies; she had passed through the Education of the College of _Newgate_, as great Numbers from thence arrive here yearly; Most being cunning Jades, some pick up foolish Planters; this Lady's Husband was far from a Fool, but had married, not only for the Charms of her Person, but because her Art and Skill was Quite useful to him in carrying on his Business and Affairs, many of which were worthy of an adept in the College she came from. Among others he made me pay for my Supper by selling me a Horse upon Honour, which, as soon as it was cool, shewed itself Dog-lame and Moon-blind. "As for eating, they have the Names of almost every Thing that is delicious, or in Fashion in _England_, but they give them to Things as little like as _Cæsar_ or _Pompey_ were to the _Negroes_ whom they call by those _Names_. For what they call a Hare is a Creature half Cat, half Rabbet, with white strong Flesh, and that burrows in rotten Trees; they call a Bird not much bigger than a Fieldfare, with hard, dry, strong Flesh, hardly eatable, a Partridge. The best Thing they have is a wild Turky, but this is only in Season one Month in the Year; the rest it is hard, strong, and dry. As for Beef, the Months of _October_ and _November_ excepted, it is Carrion; that is to say, so lean as it would not be called Meat in _England_; their Mutton is always as strong Goats' Flesh; their Veal is red and lean, and indeed the Heat of the Summer and the pinching Frost of Winter, makes all like _Pharaoh's_ lean Kine. They brag of the Fruits, that they have such plenty of Peaches as to feed Hogs; and indeed that is true, they are fit for nothing else; I do not remember, among the Multitudes I have tasted, above one or two that were eatable, the rest were either mealy or choaky. Melons grow in Fields, and are plentier than Pumpkins in _England_, as large and as tasteless; there are such Quantities that the Houses stink of them; the Heat of the Country makes them at once mellow, so that they hardly ever have the fine racy Taste of an _English_ good Melon, for in _England_ you have many bad Melons to one good; but here the Heat makes all Fruits like us young fellows, rotten before they are ripe. With respect to Fish, they have neither Salmon, Carp, Trout, Smelts, nor hardly any one good Kind of Fish. They give the Name of Trout to a white Sea-fish, no more like a Trout than a Cat to a Hare; they have one good, nay excellent Kind of Fish, I mean a Turtle; but as Scarce as in _England_. With respect to public Diversions, the worst _English_ Country Town exceeds all they have in the whole Province. As to Drink, _Burgundy_ and _Champaign_ were scarce ever heard of; _Claret_ they have but poor Stuff, tawny and prick'd, for it cannot stand the Heat of the Summer, which also spoils the _Port_; the _Madeira_ is the best Wine they have, but that only of the worst Growths, for the best are sent to _Jamaica_ or _England_; their only tolerable Drink is Rum Punch, which they swill Morning, Noon, and Night. Their Produce is Tobacco; they are so attached to that, and their Avarice to raise it, makes them neglect every Comfort of Life; But the Intemperance of the Climate affects not only all the Cattle, Fruits, and Growths of the Country, but the human Race; and it is rare to see a native reach 50 Years of Age. I have heard from the best Judges, I mean the kind hearted Ladies most in Vogue, that a _Virginian_ is old at 30, as an _Englishman_ is at 60. The Ladies I speak of are well experienced, and for most of them the Public have for peculiar Merit paid the Passage, and honoured with an Order for Transportation on Record. I would not deceive you so have told you the truth; I have not exaggerated, but have omitted many disagreeable Circumstances, such as Thunder Storms, Yellow Fevers, Musketoes, other Vermin, _&c_ with which I shall not trouble you. The Ship is just going." * * * * * "I Sent a Letter to you by Captain _Johnson_ bound for _Bristol_, with a full Account of the Country, by which you will see the Reasons why it will be highly improper for you to buy into the Troops here; I send this by a Ship bound for _London_. "They make here a Division between the Settlements and the Woods, though the Settlements are what we should call very woody in _Europe_. The Face of the Country is entirely different from any Thing I ever saw before; the Fields have not the Appearance of what bears that Name in _Europe_, instead of ploughed Grounds or Meadows, they are all laid out in Hillocks, each of which bears Tobacco Plants, with Paths hoed between. When the Tobacco is green it looks like a Coppice; when pulled the Ground looks more like Hop-Yards than Fields, which makes a very disagreeable Appearance to the Eye. The Indian Corn also, and all their Culture runs upon hilling with the Hoe, and the _Indian_ Corn grows like Reeds to eight or nine Feet high. Indeed in some Parts of the Country Wheat grows, but Tobacco and _Indian_ Corn is the chief. "From the Heart of the Settlements we are now got into the Cow-Pens, the Keepers of these are very extraordinary Kind of Fellows, they drive up their Herds on Horseback, and they had need do so, for their Cattle are near as wild as Deer; a Cow-Pen generally consists of a very large Cottage or House in the Woods, with about four-score or one hundred Acres, inclosed with high Rails and divided; a small Inclosure they keep for Corn, for the Family, the rest is the Pasture in which they keep their Calves; but the Manner is far different from any Thing you ever saw; they may perhaps have a Stock of four or five hundred to a thousand Head of Cattle belonging to a Cow-Pen, these run as they please in the great Woods, where there are no Inclosures to stop them. In the Month of _March_ the Cows begin to drop their Calves, then the Cow-Pen Master, with all his Men, rides out to see and drive up the Cows with all their new fallen Calves; they being weak cannot run away so as to escape, therefore are easily drove up, and the Bulls and other Cattle follow them; then they put these Calves into the Pasture, and every Morning and Evening suffer the Cows to come and suckle them, which done they let the Cows out into the great Woods to shift for their Food as well as they can; whilst the Calf is sucking one Tit of the Cow, the Woman of the Cow-Pen is milking one of the other Tits, so that she steals some Milk from the Cow, who thinks she is giving it to the Calf; as soon as the Cow begins to go dry, and the Calf grows Strong, they mark them, if they are Males they cut them, and let them go into the Wood. Every Year in _September_ and _October_ they drive up the Market Steers, that are fat and of a proper Age, and kill them; they say they are fat in _October_, but I am sure they are not so in _May_, _June_ and _July_; they reckon that out of 100 Head of Cattle they can kill about 10 or 12 Steers, and four or five Cows a Year; so they reckon that a Cow-Pen for every 100 Head of Cattle brings about 40£ Sterling per Year. The Keepers live chiefly upon Milk, for out of their vast Herds, they do condescend to tame Cows enough to keep their Family in Milk, Whey, Curds, Cheese and Butter; they also have Flesh in Abundance such as it is, for they eat the old Cows and lean Calves that are like to die. The Cow-Pen Men are hardy People, are almost continually on Horseback, being obliged to know the Haunts of their Cattle. "You see, Sir, what a wild set of Creatures our _English_ Men grow into, when they lose Society, and it is surprising to think how many Advantages they throw away, which our industrious Country-Men would be glad of: Out of many hundred Cows they will not give themselves the trouble of milking more than will maintain their Family." * * * * * "Since my last, we are got out of the Settlements and into the Woods. The Scene is changed, but not for the better. I thought we were then so bad that we had the Consolation of being out of Danger of being worse, but I found myself mistaken. The mutinous Spirit of the Men encreases, but we will get the better of that; we will see which will be tired first, they of deserving Punishments, or we of inflicting them. I cannot but say the very Face of the Country is enough to strike a Damp in the most resolute Mind; the Fatigues and Wants we suffer, added, are enough to dispirit common Men; nor should I blame them for being low spirited, but they are mutinous, and this came from a higher Spring than the Hardships here, for they were tainted in _Ireland_ by the factious Cry against the L-- L-- Ld G--, and the Primate; the wicked Spirit instilled there by Pamphlets and Conversation, got amongst the common Soldiers, who, tho' they are _Englishmen_, yet are not the less stubborn and mutinous for that. They have the Impudence to pretend to judge of and blame every Step, not only of the Officers, but of the Ministry. They, every now and then, in their Defence say they are free _Englishmen_, and Protestants, and are not obliged to obey Orders if they are not fed with Bread, and paid with Money; now there is often only Bills to pay them with, and no Bread but _Indian_ Corn. In fine, in _Europe_ they were better fed than taught; now they must be better taught than fed. Indeed the Officers are as ill off about Food as they, the General himself, who understands good eating as well as any Man, cannot find wherewithal to make a tolerable Dinner of, though he hath two good Cooks who could make an excellent Ragout out of a Pair of Boots, had they but Materials to toss them up with; the Provision in the Settlements was bad, but here we can get nothing but _Indian_ Corn, or mouldy Bisket; the fresh Bread we must bake in Holes in the Ground having no Ovens, so besides the Mustiness of the Flour, it is half Sand and Dirt. We are happy if we can get some rusty salt Pork, or Beef, which hath been carried without Pickle; for as we cannot carry Barrels on Horses, we are forced to take out the Meat and put it in Packs on Horses Backs; sometimes we get a few live Cattle from the Cow-Pens, but they are so lean that they are Carion and unwholesome. To this is added, the Heat of the Country, which occasions such Faintness, that the Men can hardly carry their Arms; and sometimes when these Heats are a little relaxed, there comes such Storms of Rain, Thunder and Lightening, that all the Elements seems on Fire; Numbers of Pine Trees struck to Shivers, and such Effects of Lightening, that if not seen one could hardly believe; yet we have not as yet had one Man killed by Lightening, but we have had several died by the Bite of Snakes, which are mortal, and abound prodigiously in the Swamps, through which we are often forced to march; there is another Inconveniency, which, tho it seems small, has been as teasing to me as the greater, that is a Kind of Tick, or Forest Bug, that gets into the Legs, and occasions Inflammations and Ulcers, so that the wound itches and makes one ready to tear off the Flesh; this hath greatly distressed both Men and Officers, and there is no Help nor Cure for it but Patience: Indeed they seldom occasion Lameness, tho' sometimes they do; a Soldier of our Company was forced to have his Leg cut off, for the Inflammation caused by the many Bites mortifying. We have nothing round us but Trees, Swamps, and Thickets. I cannot conceive how we must do if we are attacked, nor how we can get up to attack; but the best is what the General said, to reassure the old Soldiers who are all uneasy for Fear of being attack'd on the long March in Defiles, his Excellency with great Judiciousness says, that where the Woods are too thick so as to hinder our coming at them, they will hinder their coming at us. [Illustration: BRADDOCK'S ROAD NEAR FROSTBURG, MARYLAND] "Just as I write this we hear the best News I ever heard in my Life, the General hath declared to the _Virginians_, that if they do not furnish us with Waggons and Provisions in two Days, he will march back; he has justly upbraided them for exposing the King's Troops, by their Bragging and false Promises. They undertook to furnish us with Horses, Bread and Beef, and really have given nothing but Carion for Meat, _Indian_ Corn for Bread, Jades for Horses which cannot carry themselves. These Assurances of furnishing every Thing has deceived the General hitherto, and he, out of Zeal for the Service, hath undergone the utmost Difficulties; but now it is impossible to go farther without they comply with the Promises, they were weak, or wicked enough to make, for certainly they were never able to perform them; it is surprizing how they bragged before we left the Settlements, of what Plenty they would furnish us with at the Cow-Pens, and in the Woods; these Assurances has brought the General into the present Difficulties, and he has very justly told them, that if he marched any farther without a Supply, he should be justly charged with destroying his Majesty's Troops in the Deserts, and thereby occasion the Destruction of _Virginia_ by encouraging the French; that if he was not supplied in two Days, he would march back, and lay their Breach of Faith before his Majesty. "I now begin to hope that I shall once more have the Pleasure of seeing you, and the rest of my Friends. Pray acquaint my dear Mr. M--, that I desire he would not sell my Farm at --, since I hope soon to be over." [The rest relates to private affairs]. * * * * * "As the Intention of marching back continues, another Courier is to be sent, which Opportunity I take, not only to let you know I am well, but to desire my Cousin -- would not send any Money to Mr. -- to be remitted to me in _Virginia_. As the Pen is in my Hand, I will give you an Account of a Diversion we had some Nights ago, it was an _Indian_ Dancing, which I cannot call a Ball, though it was a Kind of Masquerade, the Habits being very antick; but this as every Thing in this Country is, was in the Stile of the Horrible; the Sal de Ball was covered with the Canopy of Heaven, and adorned with the twinkling Stars, a large Space of Grass was mark'd out for the Dancing-Place, round which we the Spectators stood, as at a Cricket-match in _England_, in the Centre of it was two Fires, at a small Distance from each other, which were designed as an Illumination to make the Dancers visible; near the Fires was seated the Musick, which were a number of Men and Women, with a Kind of Timbrels or small Kettle-Drums, made of real brass Kettles, covered with Deer Skins made like Parchment by the _Indians_, and these they beat, and keep good Time, although their Tunes are terrible and savage; they also sing much in the same Stile, creating Terror, Fear, and all dreadful Passions, but no pleasing ones. After this Noise had gone on for some Time, at once we heard a most dreadful Shout, and a Band of horrid Figures rushed into the Ring, with a Nimbleness hardly conceivable; they struck the Ground in exact Measure, answering the rough Musick; at once all the Descriptions of the Fawns and Satyrs of the _Latin_ Poets came into my Mind, and indeed the _Indians_ seemed to be the same Kind of brown dancing People, as lived under King _Faunus_, some 3000 Years ago in _Italy_; they are most chearful and loving to their Friends, but implacable and cruel to their Enemies. They drink and act when drunk much like _Silenus_ and his Satyrs; their whole Life is spent in Hunting, War, and Dancing, what they now perform'd was a War Dance; as soon as this Surprize ceased the Dancers followed one another, treading a large Ring, round the two Fires and Music, and ceased Singing; the Timbrels and Voices in the Centre set up a Tune to which they continued dancing, and follow'd one another in the Ring with a very true Measure, antick Postures, and high Bounds, that would puzzle our best Harlequins to imitate; soon after, to every five Dancers came out a Boy, carrying in their Hands flaming Splinters of light Wood instead of Torches, which cast a glim Light that made Things as distinguishable as at Noon-Day; and indeed the Surprisingness and Newness of the Spectacle made it not unpleasing; the Indians being dress'd, some in Furrs, some with their Hair ornamented with Feathers, others with the Heads of Beasts; their Bodies naked, appearing in many Places, painted with various Colours, and their Skins so rubbed with Oyl as to glitter against the Light; their Waists were girded round with Bear or Deer Skins with the Hair on, and artificial Tails fixed to many of them that hung down near unto the Ground. After they had danced some Time in a Ring, the Music ceased, the Dancers divided into two Parties, and set up the most horrid Song or Cry, that ever I heard, the Sound would strike Terror into the stoutest Heart. They then formed themselves into two Bodies, four deep, all which they did, still dancing to the Tune and Measure; they ceased singing, and the Music began, on which the two Bodies run in at each other, acting all the Parts the _Indians_ use in their Manner of Fight, avoiding Shot, and striving to surround their Enemies. Some Time past in this Manner, and then at the Signal of a dismal Cry the Dancers all at once rushed out again, leaving one only behind them, who was supposed to have mastered his Enemy; he struck the Ground with his Tomohawk or Club, as if he was killing one lying there, then acting the Motions of scalping, and then holding up a real dried Scalp, which before hung upon him amongst his Ornaments; he then sung out the great Achivements which some of their Nation had performed against the _French_, told the Names of the _Indian_ Warriors, and how many of _French_ each had scalped, and then the Dance ended, _&c_." * * * * * "In my last I acquainted you with the joyful News that our General resolved not to be any longer deceived by the _Virginians_, Orders were given for our March back, but the Day before that was appointed there arrived five Quakers decently dressed, they were pure plump Men, on brave fat Horses, which, by the way, were the first plump Creatures I had seen in this Country. Then, as I told you before, I believed _Virginia_ was peopled by _Pharaoh's_ lean Kine, but these Quakers seem to come from the Land of _Goshen_, they looked like Christian People; they went directly to his Excellence, and Curiosity carried us all to the general Quarters. They came with Thanks to the General from the People of Pensilvania, for the great Labour he had gone through in advancing so far into the Wilderness for the Protection of his Majesty's dutiful Subjects. They acquainted him further, that they had been cutting Roads to meet him with a Number of Waggons loaded with Flour, Cheese, Bacon, and other Provision; though this was good News I did not half like it, I fear'd it would occasion our Stay, and prevent our marching back; besides it was ominous, your Cheese and your Bacon being the Baits that draw Rats to Destruction, and it proved but too true; this Bait drew us into a Trap where happy was he that came off with the Loss of his Tail only. This Evening we saw the Road and Waggons, and the Men eat, this was a Duty so long disused, that it was a Tour of Fatigue to the Teeth. The Fellows who drove the Waggons, tho' they would have made but a shabby Figure amongst our _Hampshire_ Carters, yet here they looked like Angels, compared with the long, lank, yellow-faced _Virginians_, who at best are a half-starved, ragged, dirty Set; if by Accident they can clear enough by their Tobacco to buy a Coat, they rather chuse a half-wore gaudy Rag, than a substantial coarse Cloth, or Kersey; they are the very Opposites to the _Pensilvanians_, who buy Coats of Cloth so strong as to last as long as the Garments of the _Israelites_ in their March through the Desert; a Coat serves a Man for his Life and yet looks fresh, but this comes from their never wearing them at Home; when out of Sight they work half naked. They are a very frugal People, and if they were not so would be as beggarly as their Neighbours the _Virginians_. The Ground does not bear half the Crops as in _England_; they have no Market but by Sea, and that very dull, if you consider they are forced to put their Flour in Barrels after grinding and sifting, all at their own Charge, and no Consideration thereof in the Price; whilst the _English_ Farmer only threshes his Wheat, and sends it to Market. Tho' _Pensilvania_ is a Paradise to _Virginia_, it is a very poor Country compared to _England_, and no Man in his Senses can live with Comfort in _England_ stays here; as soon as they get Estates they come over to _England_. The Proprietor, a most worthy Gentleman, and universally admired, went over, and out of Complaisance staid a little Time with them, but soon returned back to _England_, where he resides. If _Pennsylvania_ could be agreeable to any one, it would be so to him, who is one of the most amiable Men living, and the whole People used their utmost Endeavors to make the Place agreeable; but alas, the Intemperature of the Climate, the Nearness and Frugality in their Manner of Living, necessary to carry on the Cultivation; the Labor that most are forced to undergo to live, prevent their giving Way to Pleasure, and the rest, as soon as they by Labor and Frugality get enough to come to _England_, leave that Country, so there are not People enough at Ease to make an agreeable Society; nor to occasion those Improvements in Gardens, Buildings, and Parks, as would make Life agreeable, much less is their Numbers enough of Rich to afford encouragement to support public Diversions; so that _America_ is a very disagreeable Place, the least Shire-Town in _England_ has more Pleasures than the best Town in _North America_. "But to return to our Quakers, the Chief of them told the General that he feared greatly for the Safety of the Army; that the Woods, the farther we went, would be the more dangerous, and the _French_ were a subtle and daring Enemy, and would not neglect any Opportunity of surprising us; that the further we went the more difficult it would be to supply us with Provisions, and that the Country was not worth keeping, much less conquering. The _French_ not yet knowing our Force were in Terror, and if he sent would perhaps come into a Treaty; that Peace was a heavenly Thing; and as for the Country in Dispute it was misrepresented by those Projectors, who had some private Advantage; for it was fit for none but _Indians_, the Soil bad, far from the Sea, and Navigation; therefore he thought if the _French_ would abandon and destroy their Forts, and we do the same, and leave the Lands to their rightful Owners the _Indians_, on Condition that that Nation should pay some Furrs and Deer Skins, by Way of Tribute, to our most gracious King _George_, a Pacification might be established till the Matter was made up before his Majesty. That General _Oglethorp_ had in that Manner settled all Differences with the _Spaniards_ on the Southern Frontiers, towards _Florida_, and the Accord lasted to this Day; on the other Hand, he said, that if the _French_ refused, then the _Indians_, who are a free and warlike Nation, and much too powerful to be despised, would probably take our Side; if we would pull down the _French_ Forts, and our own also, they would be the guard of our Colonies with very small Expense to _England_. "The General not only heard this Proposal with Pleasure, and communicated it to most of the Officers, but doubted if he had Power to execute it. Some of the Braggadocio _Virginians_, who last Year ran away so stoutly, began to clamor against the Quakers and the General; so we marched on; the General got as far as the Meadows, where, to hasten our March, he fortified and intrenched a Camp, and left the heavy Baggage, sick Men, and spare Provision _&c_, and to cover our Communication, he left Colonel _Dunbar_ with 800 Men. This place was the only one where regular Troops could make Use of their Discipline and Arms, and it is all open Ground, therefore the General made this Camp as a Place of Arms, where a Fortification being erected would supply the Army as they should want, and might receive, and lay up the Provisions in Safety, as they arrived from _Pennsylvania_; the General also said, that as this Place was on the West Side of the _Allegane_ Mountains, it preserved his Majesty's Rights against the _French_, who pretended that those Mountains bounded his Majesty's Dominions. Here we halted and refreshed ourselves bravely, by the Help of the _Pensilvania_ Provisions, and of Deer, wild Turkeys, and Game of several other Kinds brought in by the _Indians_, which though we should deem it bad enough in _England_, for there is not above one Deer in ten that is fat, yet here our former Wants made these delicious. "On the 4th of _July_ our _Indians_ were defeated in the Woods by the _French_ Parties; a few only was killed, but their chief Man was taken; the _French_ have treated them very kindly, and declare they intend no War against the _Indians_. The General is apprehensive this will make an ill Impression on them, therefore does not care to trust them any further; he has publickly said he will advance himself with 1200 Men, drive the Enemy out of the Woods, and invest _Fort Du Quesne_; he is resolved to be prepared for all Accidents, therefore leaves Colonel _Dunbar_ with a strong Party to make good this Camp. The Ground round the Camp is open, and the Situation so advantageous, that this Camp is defensible against all the Efforts the _French_ can make, if any Accident, should happen to the General; and he has declared, he has put it in this Condition, that his Majesty's Affairs may not suffer if he should miscarry. "The General seems very anxious about marching through the Woods, and gave very particular Orders; Powder and Bullet were given out, and every Thing fit for Action; two Lieutenant-Colonels were ordered to command the advanced Party. The General followed with the Gross of the two Regiments from _Europe_, the _Americans_ followed, and the Rear was brought up by Captain _Dumary's_, and another Independent Company. We marched on in this Manner without being disturbed, and thought we had got over our greatest Difficulties, for we look'd upon our March through the Woods to be such: We were sure we should be much above a Match for the _French_, if once we got into the open Ground near the Forts, where we could use our Arms. We had a Train, and a gallant Party of Sailors for working our Guns, full sufficient to master better works than those of the _French_ Forts, according to the Intelligence we had of them. Then we march'd on, and when within about ten Miles of Fort _Du Quesne_, we were, on a sudden, charged by Shot from the Woods. Every Man was alert, did all we could, but the Men dropped like Leaves in _Autumn_, all was Confusion, and in Spight of what the Officers and bravest Men could do, Numbers run away, nay fired on us, that would have forced them to rally. I was wounded in one Leg, and in the other Heel, so could not go, but sat down at the Foot of a Tree, praying of every one that run by, that they would help me off; an _American Virginian_ turned to me, Yes, Countryman, says he, I will put you out of your Misery, these Dogs shall not burn you; he then levelled his Piece at my Head, I cried out and dodged him behind the Tree, the Piece went off and missed me, and he run on; soon after Lieutenant _Grey_, with a Party of _Dumary's_ Company came by, who brought up the Rear; the Firing was now Quite ceased, he told me the General was wounded, and got me carried off. When we arrived at the _Meadows_, we found Colonel _Dunbar_ did not think it expedient to wait for the _French_ there, but retired, and carried us, the wounded, with him to _Will's Creek_. I have writ till I am faint." CHAPTER VII SPARKS AND ATKINSON ON BRADDOCK'S ROUTE[46] Several months ago we received from that indefatigable delver in the early annals of our country, Jared Sparks, Esq., of Salem, Massachusetts, a letter containing some valuable information as to the route of General Braddock after leaving Gist's farm, not far from where Connelsville now stands. That letter we, for reasons which it is unnecessary to mention, have withheld from publication; but those reasons no longer existing, we now publish it--premising only a few introductory remarks. Mr. Sparks, as the biographer of Washington and as the collator of his papers, and as a most indefatigable searcher after the whole truth in our early history, enjoyed extraordinary advantages, so that his statements in all such matters should always command the utmost confidence. There is in the possession of the Pennsylvania Historical Society a draught of "the Monongahela and Youghiogany rivers" taken by Joseph Shippen, Jr., in 1759.[47] On this draught the route of General Braddock is distinctly laid down from Cumberland to Stewart's Crossings, now Connelsville, and thence to a point about twelve or fourteen miles, nearly due north, and of course some four or five miles east of the Youghiogany. From that point the line of march is not laid down until within about six miles of the Monongahela river, at Braddock's first ford, about one mile and a half below McKeesport; from that point it is distinctly traced across the Monongahela twice to the field of battle. As Mr. Shippen was Brigade Major in General Forbes' army, and in that capacity visited this place within four years after Braddock's defeat, we may well suppose that he had accurate information as to the route of that unfortunate General. Extract of a letter from Jared Sparks, Esq., to the editor of the _Olden Time_. "Salem, Mass., Feb. 18th, 1847. "Dear Sir:--There is a copy of the 'Memorial' which you mentioned in the Library of Harvard College which I believe is complete. I shall obtain it soon, and will have the missing pages copied and forward to you the manuscript. I suppose you wish it sent by mail. I once compared this translation with the original[48] and found it clumsily executed, but the substance is probably retained. "Having heretofore examined with care the details of Braddock's expedition, I am persuaded that the following, as far as it goes, is a correct account of his march from Gist's plantation: "On the 30th of June the army forded the Youghiogany at Stewart's Crossings and then passed a rough road over a mountain. A few days onward they came to a great swamp which detained them part of a day in clearing a road. They next advanced to Salt Lick Creek, now called Jacob's Creek, where a council of war was held on the 3d of July to consider a suggestion of Sir John St. Clair that Colonel Dunbar's detachment should be ordered to join the main body. This proposal was rejected on the ground that Dunbar could not join them in less than thirteen days; that this would cause such a consumption of provisions as to render it necessary to bring forward another convoy from Fort Cumberland; and that in the meantime the French might be strengthened by a reinforcement, which was daily expected at Fort Duquesne--and moreover; the two divisions could not move together after their junction. "On the 4th the army again marched and advanced to Turtle Creek, about twelve miles from its mouth, where they arrived on the 7th inst. I suppose this to have been the eastern branch or what is now called Rush Creek, and that the place at which they encamped was a short distance northerly from the present village of Stewartsville. It was General Braddock's intention to cross Turtle Creek, and approach Fort Duquesne on the other side; but the banks were so precipitous, and presented such obstacles to crossing with his artillery and heavy baggage that he hesitated, and Sir John St. Clair went out with a party to reconnoitre. On his return, before night, he reported that he had found the ridge which led to Fort Duquesne but that considerable work would be necessary to prepare a road for crossing Turtle Creek. This route was finally abandoned, and on the 8th the army marched eight miles and encamped not far from the Monongahela, west of the Youghiogany and near what is called in an old map 'Sugar Run.' When Braddock reached this place it was his design to pass through the narrows, but he was informed by the guides who had been out to explore that the passage was very difficult, about two miles in length, with a river on the left and a high mountain on the right, and that much work must be done to make it passable for carriages. At the same time he was told that there were two good fords across the Monongahela where the water was shallow and the banks not steep. With these views of the case he determined to cross the fords the next morning. The order of march was given out and all the arrangements were made for an early movement. "About eight o'clock on the morning of the 9th the advanced division under Colonel Gage crossed the ford and pushed forward. After the whole army had crossed and marched about a mile, Braddock received a note from Colonel Gage, giving notice that he had passed the second ford without difficulty. A little before two o'clock the whole army had crossed this ford and was arranged in the order of march on the plain near Frazer's house. Gage with the advanced party was then ordered to march, and while the main body was yet standing on the plain the action began near the river. Not a single man of the enemy had before been seen. "The distance by the line of march from Stewart's Crossing to Turtle Creek, or Brush Creek, was about thirty miles. At this point the route was changed almost to a right angle in marching to the Monongahela. The encampment was probably two or three miles from the bank of the river, for Colonel Gage marched at the break of day and did not cross the ford till eight o'clock. During the whole march from the Great Meadows the pickets and sentinels were frequently assailed by scouting parties of French and Indians and several men were killed. Mr. Gist acted as the General's guide. On the 4th of July two Indians went out to reconnoitre the country toward Fort Duquesne; and Mr. Gist also on the same day, in a different direction. They were gone two days, and all came in sight of the fort, but brought back no important intelligence. The Indians contrived to kill and scalp a French officer whom they found shooting within half a mile of the fort. "The army seldom marched more than six miles a day and commonly not so much. From Stewart's Crossing to Turtle Creek there were six encampments. During one day the army halted. "I shall be much pleased to see Mr. Atkinson's map. His knowledge of the ground will enable him to delineate Braddock's route much more accurately than it can be done from any sources now available. I am, Sir, respectfully yours, Jared Sparks. Neville B. Craig, Esq., Pittsburgh." [Illustration: MIDDLETON'S MAP OF BRADDOCK'S ROAD (1847) [_Braddock's Road is shown as dotted line. The double line is the present route from Cumberland to Ft. Necessity_]] Since the foregoing letter was in type we have received from Mr. T. C. Atkinson of Cumberland, Maryland, lately employed on the Pittsburgh and Connelsville Rail Road, a very able and interesting article on the subject of Braddock's route to the Monongahela, with a very beautiful map of the country, by Mr. Middleton, one of Mr. Atkinson's assistants on the survey for the railroad. The article of Mr. Atkinson, and the map, furnish all the information as to the march of General Braddock's army which can now be hoped for. Mr. Atkinson had for years devoted much time to the examination of the route of the army of Braddock eastward, and some distance westward of Cumberland, and his late employ along the Youghiogany and Monongahela afforded him an opportunity to complete his work. As a striking evidence of the accuracy of his researches, we will mention that in tracing the route he was much surprised and puzzled by what seemed the strange divergence of the army from the Youghiogany river after passing it at Stewart's Crossings. Yet the traditionary evidence and marks on the ground seemed to establish beyond doubt the fact that the army had passed far into the interior of our present county of Westmoreland, and near to Mount Pleasant, crossing the line of the Pittsburgh and Greensburg Turnpike road. This seemed so far from the natural and direct route that even the strong traditionary and other evidence, could not entirely remove the possibility of doubt. Mr. Atkinson himself was entirely satisfied as to the correctness of his own conclusions, but of course would be gratified to receive a confirmation, in an authentic shape, of his own convictions. Just at that crisis we received the letter from Mr. Sparks, which precedes these remarks, thus settling most conclusively the verity of many of the traditions current in the country as to the erratic course of Braddock's army from Stewart's Crossings to the Monongahela river. We are, deeply indeed, indebted to Mr. Atkinson, and also to his assistant, Mr. Middleton, for their very valuable contribution in illustration of the early history of this country. The Pittsburgh and Connelsville Rail Road project cannot be regarded as an entirely fruitless effort; it has, at least, produced this most valuable historical essay. All additional information in relation to those early scenes must possess interest to every intelligent American; and we rejoice in the opportunity of placing Mr. Atkinson's valuable communication and the accompanying map before the readers of the _Olden Time_: "The interest with which the routes of celebrated expeditions are regarded, and the confusion which attends them after the lapse of years, is well exemplified in the case of Hannibal, whose march toward Rome, in order to divert their army from the siege of Capua, was totally lost in the course of a few centuries. The constant blunders of Livy in copying first from one writer, and then from another who made him take a different path, justify a recent English historian who went to Italy to see the ground for himself, in saying that the Punic War was almost as hard in the writing as the fighting. "As the time is coming when the road by which the unfortunate Braddock marched to his disastrous field will be invested with antiquarian interest akin to that attending Hannibal's route, or rather the _via scelerata_, by which the Fabian family marched out of Rome, I have thought it time not idly spent to attempt to pursue its scattered traces as far as it is in my power, among more pressing occupations. In this sketch I do not design to pursue it to its extent, but only to identify it in those parts where it has been convenient for me to visit it and in others to shadow out its general direction. Where it is obscure I hope to have opportunities to examine it at a future day. "Of the well conducted expedition of Colonel Bouquet and its precise path, the publications of Mr. Hutchins, the geographer, who was one of the engineers, leaves us very well informed. It is presumable that similar details would be found of the march of 1755 if it had had a successful termination. The three engineers who were in the field were wounded; and it is probable their papers fell into the hands of the enemy or were lost in the flight. "General Braddock landed at Alexandria on the 20th of February, 1755. The selection of this port for the debarcation of the troops, was censured at the time, though it is probable it had the approval of Washington. The two regiments he brought with him were very defective in numbers, having but about five hundred men each, and it was expected their ranks would be recruited in America. It is shown by the repeated requests on this point made by the General at Cumberland that this expectation was vain. After numerous delays, and a conference with the Royal Governors, we find General Braddock _en route_ on the 24th of April when he had reached Fredricktown in Maryland. Passing thence through Winchester, Va., he reached Fort Cumberland about the 9th of May. Sir John Sinclair, Deputy Quarter Master General, had preceded him to this point about two weeks.[49] "The army struck the Little Cacapehon (though pronounced Cacapon, I have used for the occasion the spelling of Washington and various old documents), about six miles above its mouth, and following the stream encamped on the Virginia side of the Potomac preparatory to crossing into Maryland. The water is supposed to have been high at the time, as the spot is known as the Ferry-fields, from the army having been ferried over. This was about the 4th or 5th of May. "The army thence pursued the banks of the river, with a slight deviation of route at the mouth of the South Branch, to the village of Old Town, known at that time as the Shawnee Old Town, modern use having dropped the most characteristic part of the name. This place, distant about eight miles from the Ferry-fields, was known at that early day as the residence of Col. Thomas Cresap, an English settler, and the father of the hero of Logan's speech. The road proceeded thence parallel with the river and at the foot of the hills, till it passes the narrows of Will's Mountain, when it struck out a shorter line coincident with the present county road, and lying between the railroad and the mountain, to Fort Cumberland. "From the Little Cacapehon to this point the ground was comparatively easy, and the road had been generally judiciously chosen. Thenceforward the character of the ground was altered, not so much in the general aspect of the country as that the march was about to abandon the valleys, and now the real difficulties of the expedition may be said to commence. "The fort had been commenced the previous year, after the surrender at the Great Meadows, by Col. Innes, who had with him the two independent companies of New York and South Carolina. It mounted ten four pounders, besides swivels, and was favorably situated to keep the hostile Indians in check.[50] "The army now consisted of 1000 regulars, 30 sailors, and 1200 provincials, besides a train of artillery. The provincials were from New York and Virginia; one company from the former colony was commanded by Captain Gates, afterwards the hero of Saratoga. On the 8th of June, Braddock having, through the interest and exertions of Dr. Franklin, principally, got 150 wagons and 2000 horses from Pennsylvania, was ready to march. "_Scaroodaya_, successor to the Half-King of the Senecas, and _Monacatootha_, whose acquaintance Washington has made on the Ohio, on his mission to Le Boeuf, with about 150 Indians, Senecas, and Delawares, accompanied him.... "The first brigade under Sir Peter Halket, led the way on the 8th, and on the 9th the main body followed. Some idea of the difficulties they encountered, may be had when we perceive they spent the third night only five miles from the first. The place of encampment which is about one third of a mile from the toll-gate on the National Road, is marked by a copious spring bearing Braddock's name. "For reasons not easy to divine, the route across Will's Mountain first adopted for the national road was selected instead of the more favorable one through the narrows of Will's Creek, to which the road has been changed within a few years for the purpose of avoiding that formidable ascent. The traces are very distinct on the east and west slopes, the modern road crossing it frequently. From the western foot, the route continued up Braddock's Run to the forks of the stream, where Clary's tavern now stands, nine miles from Cumberland, when it turned to the left, in order to reach a point on the ridge favorable to an easy descent into the valley of George's Creek. It is surprising that having reached this high ground, the favorable spur by which the National Road accomplishes the ascent of the Great Savage Mountain, did not strike the attention of the engineers, as the labor requisite to surmount the barrier from the deep valley of George's Creek, must have contributed greatly to those bitter complaints which Braddock made against the Colonial Governments for their failure to assist him more effectively in the transportation department. "Passing then a mile to the south of Frostburg, the road approaches the east foot of Savage Mountain, which it crosses about one mile south of the National Road, and thence by very favorable ground through the dense forests of white pine peculiar to this region, it got to the north of the National Road, near the gloomy tract called the _Shades of Death_. This was the 15th of June, when the dense gloom of the summer woods and the favorable shelter which those enormous pines would give an Indian enemy, must have made a most sensible impression on all minds, of the insecurity of their mode of advance. "This doubtless had a share in causing the council of war held at the Little Meadows[51] the next day. To this place, distant only about twenty miles from Cumberland, Sir John Sinclair and Major Chapman had been dispatched on the 27th of May, to build a fort; the army having been seven days in reaching it, it follows as the line of march was upwards of three miles long, the rear was just getting under way when the advance were lighting their evening fires. "Here it may be well enough to clear up an obscurity which enters into many narratives of these early events, from confusing the names of the _Little Meadows_ and _Great Meadows_, _Little Crossings_ and _Great Crossings_, which are all distinct localities. "The _Little Meadows_ have been described as at the foot of Meadow Mountain; it is well to note that the _Great Meadows_ are about thirty-one miles further west, and near the east foot of Laurel Hill. "By the _Little Crossings_ is meant the Ford of Casselman's River, a tributary of the Youghiogheny; and by the _Great Crossings_, the passage of the Youghiogheny itself. The Little Crossing is two miles west of the Little Meadows, and the Great Crossing seventeen miles further west. "The conclusion of the council was to push on with a picked force of 1200 men and 12 pieces of cannon; and the line of march, now more compact was resumed on the 19th. Passing over ground to the south of the Little Crossings, and of the village of Grantsville, which it skirted, the army spent the night of the 21st at the Bear Camp, a locality I have not been able to identify, but suppose it to be about midway to the Great Crossings, which it reached on the 23d. The route thence to the Great Meadows or Fort Necessity was well chosen, though over a mountainous tract, conforming very nearly to the ground now occupied by the National Road, and keeping on the dividing ridge between the waters flowing into the Youghiogheny on the one hand and the Cheat River on the other. Having crossed the Youghiogheny, we are now on the classic ground of Washington's early career, where the skirmish with Jumonville, and Fort Necessity, indicate the country laid open for them in the previous year. About one mile west of the Great Meadows and near the spot now marked as Braddock's Grave, the road struck off more to the north-west, in order to reach a pass through Laurel Hill that would enable them to strike the Youghiogheny, at a point afterwards known as Stewart's Crossing and about half a mile below the present town of Connellsville. This part of the route is marked by the farm known as Mount Braddock. This second crossing of the Youghiogheny was effected on the 30th of June. The high grounds intervening between the river and its next tributary, Jacob's Creek, though trivial in comparison with what they had already passed, it may be supposed, presented serious obstacles to the troops, worn out with previous exertions. On the 3d of July a council of war was held at Jacob's Creek, to consider the propriety of bringing forward Col. Dunbar with the reserve, and although urged by Sir John Sinclair with, as one may suppose, his characteristic vehemence, the measure was rejected on sufficient grounds. From the crossing of Jacob's Creek, which was at the point where Welchhanse's Mill now stands, about 1-1/2 miles below Mount Pleasant, the route stretched off to the north, crossing the Mount Pleasant turnpike near the village of the same name, and thence by a more westerly course, passing the Great Sewickley near Painter's Salt Works, thence south and west of the Post Office of Madison and Jacksonville, it reached the Brush Fork of Turtle Creek. It must strike those who examine the map that the route, for some distance, in the rear and ahead of Mount Pleasant, is out of the proper direction for Fort Duquesne, and accordingly we find on the 7th of July, Gen. Braddock in doubt as to his proper way of proceeding. The crossing of Brush Creek, which he had now reached, appeared to be attended with so much hazard that parties were sent to reconnoitre, some of whom advanced so far as to kill a French officer within half a mile of Fort Duquesne. "Their examinations induced a great divergence to the left, and availing himself of the valley of Long Run, which he turned into, as is supposed, at Stewartsville, passing by the place now known as Samson's Mill, the army made one of the best marches of the campaign and halted for the night at a favorable depression between that stream and Crooked Run and about two miles from the Monongahela. At this spot, about four miles from the battle ground, which is yet well known as Braddock's Spring, he was rejoined by Washington on the morning of the 9th of July. "The approach to the river was now down the valley of Crooked Run to its mouth, where the point of fording is still manifest, from a deep notch in the west bank, though rendered somewhat obscure by the improved navigation of the river. The advance, under Col. Gage, crossed about 8 o'clock, and continued by the foot of the hill bordering the broad river bottom to the second fording, which he had effected nearly as soon as the rear had got through the first. "The second and last fording at the mouth of Turtle Creek was in full view of the enemy's position, and about one mile distant. By 1 o'clock the whole army had gained the right bank, and was drawn up on the bottom land, near Frazier's house (spoken of by Washington as his stopping place on his mission to Le Boeuf), and about 3/4 of a mile distant from the ambuscade." CHAPTER VIII BRADDOCK'S ROAD IN HISTORY The narrow swath of a road cut through the darkling Alleghenies by General Braddock has been worth all it cost in time and treasure. Throughout the latter half of the eighteenth century it was one of the main thoroughfares into the Ohio valley, and when, at the dawning of the nineteenth, the United States built our first and greatest public highway, the general alignment of Braddock's Road between Cumberland and the last range of the Alleghenies--Laurel Hill--was the course pursued. In certain localities this famed national boulevard, the Cumberland Road, was built upon the very bed of Braddock's road, as Braddock's road had been built partly upon the early Washington's Road which followed the path of Indian, buffalo, and mound-building aborigines. Nowhere in America can the evolution of road-building be studied to such advantage as between Cumberland, Maryland and Uniontown, Pennsylvania. For some years after Braddock's defeat his route to and fro between the Monongahela and Potomac was used only by scouting parties of whites and marauding Indians, and many were the swift encounters that took place upon its overgrown narrow track. In 1758 General Forbes built a new road westward from Carlisle, Pennsylvania rather than follow Braddock's ill-starred track, for reasons described in another volume of the present series.[52] Forbes frightened the French forever from the "Forks of the Ohio" and erected Fort Pitt on the ruins of the old Fort Duquesne. In 1763 Colonel Bouquet led a second army across the Alleghenies, on Forbes's Road, relieved Fort Pitt and put an end to Pontiac's Rebellion. By the time of Forbes's expedition Braddock's Road was somewhat filled with undergrowth, and was not cut at all through the last and most important eight miles of the course to Fort Duquesne. Forbes had some plans of using this route, "if only as a blind," but finally his whole force proceeded over a new road. However, certain portions of Braddock's Road had been cleared early in the campaign when Forbes thought it would be as well to have "two Strings to one Bow." It was not in bad condition.[53] This new northern route, through Lancaster, Carlisle, Bedford (Reastown), and Ligonier, Pennsylvania, became as important, if not more so, than Braddock's course from Cumberland to Braddock, Pennsylvania. As the years passed Braddock's Road seems to have regained something of its early prestige, and throughout the Revolutionary period it was perhaps of equal consequence with any route toward the Ohio, especially because of Virginia's interest in and jealousy of the territory about Pittsburg. When, shortly after the close of the Revolution, the great flood of immigration swept westward, the current was divided into three streams near the Potomac; one went southward over the Virginian route through Cumberland Gap to Kentucky; the other two burst over Forbes's and Braddock's Roads. Some pictures of the latter are vividly presented in early records of pilgrims who chose its rough path to gain the El Dorado beyond the Appalachian mountain barriers. William Brown, an emigrant to Kentucky from Hanover, Virginia, over Braddock's Road in 1790 has left a valuable itinerary of his journey, together with interesting notes, entitled _Observances and Occurrences_. The itinerary is as follows: MILES To Hanover Court House, 16 To Edmund Taylor's, 16 To Parson Todd's, Louisa, 20 To Widow Nelson's, 20 To Brock's Bridge, Orange Co., 9 To Garnet's Mill, 5 To Bost. Ord'y, near Hind's House, 7 To Raccoon Ford, on Rapidan or Porters, 6 To Culpepper Co.-House, 10 To Pendleton's Ford, on Rappahannock, 10 To Douglass's Tavern, or Wickliffe's House, 13 To Chester's Gap, Blue Ridge, 8 To Lehu Town, 3 To Ford of Shenandore River, Frederick, 2 To Stevensburg, 10 To Brown's Mill, 2 To Winchester, 6 To Gasper Rinker's, 11 To Widow Lewis's, Hampshire, 11 To Crock's Tav., 9 To Reynold's, on the So. Branch Potowmack, 13 To Frankford Town, 8 To Haldeman's Mills, 4 To North Branch, Potomack, 3 To Gwyn's Tav., at the Fork of Braddock's old road, Alleghany Co., Maryland, 3 To Clark's Store, 6 To Little Shades of Death, 12 To Tumblestone Tav., or the Little Meadows, 3 To Big Shades of Death, 2 To Mountain Tav., or White Oak Springs, 2 To Simpson's Tav., Fayette Co., Pennsylvania, 6 To Big Crossing of Yoh, 9 To Carrol's Tavern, 12 To Laurel Hill, 6 To Beason Town, 6 To Redstone, Old Fort, 12 To Washington Town, Washington Co., Penn., 23 To Wheeling, Old Fort, Ohio Co., Vir., 35 --- 359[54] Mr. Brown's notes of the journey over the mountains are: "Set out from Hanover Friday 6th August 1790 arrived at Redstone Old Fort about the 25th Inst. The road is pretty good until you get to the Widow Nelson's, then it begins to be hilly and continues generally so till you get to the Blue Ridge--pretty well watered. Racoon ford on Rapidan is rather bad. The little mountains are frequently in view After you pass Widow Nelson's. Pendleton's ford on Rappahanock is pretty good. In going over Chester gap you ride about 5 miles among the mountains before you get clear, a good many fine springs in the Mo. between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghany Mo. appears to be a fine country, altho the land is pretty much broken. At Shenandore ford there is two branches of the river to cross and it is bad fording. But there is a ferry a little below the ford. There is a very cool stream of water about 14 miles below Winchester. This is a well watered country but springs are rather scarce on the road, at Winchester there are several fine springs. The South branch of Potowmack has a good ford, also the North branch. Soon after you pass Gwyns Tavern in Maryland you enter upon the Alleghany Mo. and then you have a great deal of bad road, many ridges of Mo.--the Winding Ridge--Savage, Negro, etc. and Laurel Hill which is the last, but before you get to the Mount, there is some stony bad road between the Widow Lewis' and the Mo. after you pass Clark's store in the Mo. you get into a valley of very pretty oak land. In many places while you are in the Mo. there is very good road between the ridges. Just before you get to the Little Shades of Death there is a tract of the tallest pines I ever saw. The Shades of Death are dreary looking valleys, growing up with tall cypress and other trees and has a dark gloomy appearance. Tumblestones, or the Little Meadows is a fine plantation with beautiful meadow ground. Crossing of Yoh, is a pretty good ford. There is some very bad road about here. It is said Gen Braddock was buried about 8 miles forward from this, near a little brook that crosses the road. Laurel hill is the highest ridge of the Mo. When you get to the top of it to look forward toward Redstone there is a beautiful prospect of the country below the Mo. You see at one view a number of plantations and Beason Town which is six miles off."[55] With the growth of Cumberland and the improvement of navigation of the upper Potomac, and especially the building of the canal beside it, the importance of the Braddock route across the mountains was realized by the state of Maryland and the legislature passed laws with reference to straightening and improving it as early as 1795; acts of a similar nature were also passed in 1798 and 1802.[56] A pilgrim who passed westward with his family over Braddock's Road in 1796 leaves us some interesting details concerning the journey in a letter written from Western Virginia after his arrival in the "Monongahela Country" in the fall of that year. Arriving at Alexandria by boat from Connecticut the party found that it was less expensive and safer to begin land carriage there than to ascend the Potomac further. They then pursued one of the routes of Braddock's army to Cumberland and the Braddock Road from that point to Laurel Hill. The price paid for hauling their goods from Alexandria to Morgantown (now West Virginia) was thirty-two shillings and six-pence per hundred-weight "of women and goods (freight)"--the men "all walked the whole of the way." Crossing "the blue Mountain the Monongehaly & the Lorral Mountains we found the roads to be verry bad." It is difficult to say when Braddock's Road, as a route, ceased to be used since portions of it have never been deserted. There are interesting references to it in the records of Allegheny County, Maryland, which bear the dates 1807[57] and 1813[58]. A little later it is plain that "Jesse Tomlinson's" is described "on _National Road_" rather than on "_Braddock's Road_," as in 1807.[59] From this it would seem that by 1817 the term "Braddock's Road" was ignored, at least at points where the Cumberland Road had been built upon the old-time track. Elsewhere Braddock's route kept its ancient name and, perhaps, will never exchange it for another. [Illustration: BRADDOCK'S ROAD IN THE WOODS NEAR FARMINGTON, PENNSYLVANIA] The rough track of this first highway westward may be followed today almost at any point in all its course between the Potomac and the Monongahela, and the great caverns and gullies which mark so plainly its tortuous course speak as no words can of the sufferings and dangers of those who travelled it during the dark half century when it offered one of the few passage-ways to the West. It was a clear, sweet October day when I first came into Great Meadows to make there my home until those historic hills and plains became thoroughly familiar to me. From the Cumberland Road, as one looks southward from Mount Washington across Great Meadows and the site of Fort Necessity, the hillside beyond is well-timbered on the right and on the left; but between the forests lies a large tract of cultivated ground across which runs, in a straight line, the dark outline of a heavy unhealed wound. A hundred and fifty years of rain and snow and frost have been unable to remove, even from a sloping surface, this heavy finger mark. Many years of cultivation have not destroyed it, and for many years yet the plow will jolt and swing heavily when it crosses the track of Braddock's Road. I was astonished to find that at many points in Fayette and neighboring counties the old course of the road can be distinctly traced in fields which have for half a century and more been under constant cultivation. If, at certain points, cultivation and the elements have pounded the old track level with the surrounding ground, a few steps in either direction will bring the explorer instantly to plain evidence of its course--except where the road-bed is, today, a travelled lane or road. On the open hillsides the track takes often the appearance of a terrace, where, in the old days the road tore a great hole along the slope, and formed a catchwater which rendered it a veritable bog in many places. Now and then on level ground the course is marked by a slight rounding hollow which remains damp when the surrounding ground is wet, or is baked very hard when the usual supply of water is exhausted. In some places this strange groove may be seen extending as far as eye can reach, as though it were the pathway of a gigantic serpent across the wold. At times the track, passing the level, meets a slight ridge which, if it runs parallel to its course, it mounts; if the rising ground is encountered at right angles, the road ploughs a gulley straight through, in which the water runs after each rain, preserving the depression once made by the road. And as I journeyed to and fro in that valley visiting the classic spots which appear in such tender grace in the glad sunshine of a mountain autumn, I never passed a spot of open where this old roadway was to be seen without a thrill; as James Lane Allen has so beautifully said of Boone's old road through Cumberland Gap to Kentucky, so may the explorer feelingly exclaim concerning Braddock's old track: "It is impossible to come upon this road without pausing, or to write of it without a tribute." This is particularly true of Braddock's Road when you find it in the forests; everything that savage mark tells in the open country is reëchoed in mightier tones within the shadows of the woods. There the wide strange track is like nothing of which you ever heard or read. It looks nothing like a roadway. It is plainly not the track of a tornado, though its width and straight course in certain places would suggest this. Yet it is never the same in two places; here, it is a wide straight aisle covered with rank weeds in the center of the low, wet course; there, the forests impinge upon it where the ground is drier; here, it appears like the abandoned bed of a brook, the large stones removed from its track lying on each side as though strewn there by a river's torrent; there, it swings quickly at right angles near the open where the whole width is covered with velvet grass radiant in the sunshine which can reach it here. In the forests more than elsewhere the deep furrow of the roadway has remained wet, and for this reason trees have not come up. At many points the road ran into marshy ground and here a large number of roundabout courses speak of the desperate struggles the old teamsters had on this early track a century ago. And now and then as you pass along, scattered blocks and remnants of stone chimneys mark the sites of ancient taverns and homesteads. In the forests it is easy to conjure up the scene when this old track was opened--for it was cut through a "wooden country," to use an expression common among the pioneers. Here you can see the long line of sorry wagons standing in the road when the army is encamped; and though many of them seem unable to carry their loads one foot further--yet there is ever the ringing chorus of the axes of six hundred choppers sounding through the twilight of the hot May evening. It is almost suffocating in the forests when the wind does not blow, and the army is unused to the scorching American summer which has come early this year. The wagon train is very long, and though the van may have halted on level ground, the line behind stretches down and up the shadowy ravines. The wagons are blocked in all conceivable positions on the hillsides. The condition of the horses is pitiful beyond description. If some are near to the brook or spring, others are far away. Some horses will never find water tonight. To the right and left the sentinels are lost in the surrounding gloom. And then with those singing axes for the perpetual refrain, consider the mighty epic poem to be woven out of the days that have succeeded Braddock here. Though lost in the Alleghenies, this road and all its busy days mirror perfectly the social advance of the western empire to which it led. Its first mission was to bind, as with a strange, rough, straggling cincture the East and the West. The young colonies were being confined to the Atlantic Ocean by a chain of forts the French were forging from Quebec to New Orleans. Had they not awakened to the task of shattering that chain it is doubtful if the expansion of the colonies could ever have meant what it has to the western world. Could Virginia have borne a son in the western wilderness, Kentucky by name, if France had held the Ohio Valley? Could North Carolina have given birth to a Tennessee if France had made good her claim to the Mississippi? Could New England and New York and Pennsylvania have produced the fruits the nineteenth century saw blossom in the Old Northwest if France had maintained her hold within that mighty empire? The rough track of Braddock's Road, almost forgotten and almost obliterated, is one of the best memorials of the earliest struggle of the Colonies for the freedom which was indispensable to their progress. There was not an hour throughout the Revolutionary struggle when the knowledge of the great West that was to be theirs was not a powerful inspiration to the bleeding colonies; aye, there was not a moment when the gallant commander of those ragged armies forgot that there was a West into which he could retreat at the darkest hour over Braddock's twelve-foot road. That is the great significance of this first track through the "wooden country"--an awakened consciousness. The traveller at Uniontown, Pennsylvania, is within striking distance of Braddock's Road at its most interesting points. A six-mile climb to the summit of Laurel Hill brings one upon the old-time route which will be found near Washington's Spring. A delightful drive along the summit of the mountain northward brings one near the notorious "Dunbar's Camp" where so many relics of the campaign have been found and of which many may be seen in the museum of the nearby Pennsylvania Soldiers' Orphans' Home. Here Dunbar destroyed the quantities of stores and ammunition with which he could not advance, much less retreat. The visitor here should find "Jumonville's Grove," about a quarter of a mile up the valley, and should not miss the view from Dunbar's Knob. Less than one mile eastward of Chalk Hill, beside a brook which bears Braddock's name, beneath a cluster of solemn pines, lies the dust of the sacrificed Braddock. If there is any question as to whether his body was interred at this spot, there is no question but that all the good he ever did is buried here. Deserted by those who should have helped him most, fed with promises that were never kept, defeated because he could not find the breath to cry "retreat" until a French bullet drove it to his throat--he is remembered by his private vices which the whole world would quickly have forgotten had he won his last fight. He was typical of his time--not worse. In studying Braddock's letters, preserved in the Public Records Office, London, it has been of interest to note that he never blamed an inferior--as he boasted in the anecdote previously related. His most bitter letter has been reproduced, and a study of it will make each line of more interest. His criticism of the Colonial troops was sharp, but his praise of them when they had been tried in fire was unbounded. He does not directly criticise St. Clair--though his successful rival for honors on the Ohio, Forbes, accused St. Clair in 1758 not only of ignorance but of actual treachery. "This Behavior in the people" is Braddock's charge, and no one will say the accusation was unjust. With something more than ordinary good judgment Braddock singled out good friends. What men in America, at the time, were more influential in their spheres than Franklin, Washington, and Morris? These were almost the only men he, finally, had any confidence in or respect for. Washington knew Braddock as well as any man, and who but Washington, in the happier days of 1784, searched for his grave by Braddock's Run in vain, desirous of erecting a monument over it? Mr. King, editor of the Pittsburg _Commercial-Gazette_, in 1872 took an interest in Braddock's Grave, planted the pines over it and enclosed them. A slip from a willow tree that grew beside Napoleon's grave at St. Helena was planted here but did not grow. There is little doubt that Braddock's dust lies here. He was buried in the roadway near this brook, and at this point, early in the last century, workmen repairing the road discovered the remains of an officer. The remains were reinterred here on the high ground beside the Cumberland Road, on the opposite bank of Braddock's Run. They were undoubtedly Braddock's. As you look westward along the roadway toward the grave, the significant gorge on the right will attract your attention. It is the old pathway of Braddock's Road, the only monument or significant token in the world of the man from whom it was named. Buried once in it--near the cluster of gnarled apple-trees in the center of the open meadow beyond--he is now buried, and finally no doubt, beside it. But its hundreds of great gorges and vacant swampy isles in the forests will last long after any monument that can be raised to his memory. Braddock's Road broke the league the French had made with the Alleghenies; it showed that British grit could do as much in the interior of America as in India or Africa or Egypt; it was the first important material structure in this New West, so soon to be filled with the sons of those who had hewn it. FOOTNOTES: [1] Entick, _History of the Late War_, vol. i., p. 110. [2] Entick, _History of the Late War_, vol. i., p. 124. [3] _Apology for the Life of George Anne Bellamy_, vol. iii., p. 55. [4] _Letters of Walpole_, (edited by Cunningham, London 1877), vol. ii., p. 461. [5] Entick _History of the Late War_, vol. i., p. 142. [6] _History of the Late War_, vol. i., p. 142. [7] _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. 75, p. 389 (1755); also _A Review of the Military Operations in North America_, London, 1757, p. 35. [8] _A letter relating to the Ohio Defeat_, p. 14. [9] Walpole's _Memoirs of George II_, vol. ii., p. 29. [10] Walpole's _Memoirs of George II_, vol. ii., p. 29; also London _Evening Post_, September 9-11, 1755. [11] Walpole's _Memoirs of George II_, vol. i., p. 397; Sargent's _History of Braddock's Expedition_, p. 153, note. [12] Minutes taken "At a Council at the Camp at Alexandria in Virginia, April 14, 1755." Public Records Office, London: _America and West Indies_, No. 82. [13] Braddock's MS. Letters, Public Records Office, London: _America and West Indies_, No. 82. [14] For these early routes through Pennsylvania, partially opened in 1755, see _Historic Highways of America_, vol. v., chap. I. [15] _Maryland Archives_; Correspondence of Governor Sharpe, vol. i., pp. 77 and 97. [16] Preserved at the Congressional Library, Washington. [17] Eight miles from Alexandria. See Note 26. [18] Arguments pro and con have been interestingly summed up by Dr. Marcus Benjamin of the U. S. National Museum, in a paper read before the Society of Colonial Dames in the District of Columbia April 12, 1899, and by Hugh T. Taggart in the _Washington Star_, May 16, 1896. For a description of routes converging on Braddock's Road at Fort Cumberland see Gen. Wm. P. Craighill's article in the _West Virginia Historical Magazine_, vol. ii, no. 3 (July, 1902), p. 31. Cf. pp. 179-181. [19] London, Groombridge & Sons, 1854. Mr. Morris, in footnotes, gave what he considered any important variations of the original manuscript from the expanded version he was editing; Mr. Sargent reproduced these notes, without having seen the original. [20] _History of Braddock's Expedition_, p. 359, note. [21] _History of Braddock's Expedition_, p. 359, note. [22] Mr. Gordon evidently used the word "self" in his entry of June 3 to throw any too curious reader off the track. [23] _History of Braddock's Expedition_, p. 387. [24] _History of Braddock's Expedition_, p. 365. [25] In the Gordon Journal, under the date of June 10, there are two entries. One seems to have been Gordon's and reads: "The Director of the Hospital came to see me in Camp, and found me so ill.... I went into the Hospital, & the Army marched with the Train &c., and as I was in hopes of being able to follow them in a few days, I sent all my baggage with the Army." Without doubt this was Gordon's entry, as no sailor could have had sufficient baggage to warrant such a reference as this, while an engineer's "kit" was an important item. Then follow two entries (June 24 and 26) evidently recorded by one who remained at Fort Cumberland, and a second entry under the date of June 10, which is practically the first sentence of the entry under the same date in the original manuscript, and which has the appearance of being the genuine record made by the sailor detained at Fort Cumberland. The confusion of these entries in the Gordon Journal makes it very evident that one author did not compose them. The two entries for June 10 are typical of "Mr Engineer Gordon" and an unknown sailor. [26] This form of the name of the modern Rock Creek is significant and is not given in the expanded form of this journal. "Rock's Creek" suggests that the great bowlder known as "Braddock's Rock" was a landmark in 1755 and had given the name to the stream which entered the Potomac near it. [27] The use of full names in this journal is strong evidence that it is the original. [28] The Gordon Journal assiduously reverses every such particular as this; it reads here: "there are about 200 houses and 2 churches, one English, one Dutch." [29] Though in almost every instance the Gordon Journal gives a more wordy account of each day's happenings, it _never gives a record for a day that is omitted by this journal_, as April 22, 23, and 28; at times, however, a day is omitted in that journal that is accounted for in this; see entries for May 9 and May 25--neither of which did Mr. Morris give in his footnotes, though the latter was of utmost significance. [30] The words "from the French" are omitted in the Gordon Journal, which makes the entry utterly devoid of any meaning--unless that Cresap had been ordered to retire by the Ohio Company! Cresap in that document is called "a vile Rascal"; cf. Pennsylvania _Colonial Records_, vol. vi., p. 400. For eulogy of Cresap see _Ohio State Archæological and Historical Publications_, vol. xi. [31] This is given for the 13th in the Gordon Journal. [32] The Gordon Journal: "Mr Spendlow and self surveyed 22 casks of beef, and condemned it, which we reported to the General." [33] Two chaplains accompanied the two Regiments Philip Hughes was chaplain of the 44th and Lieut. John Hamilton of the 48th. The latter was wounded in the defeat. [34] The entry of Gordon Journal reads: "Col. Burton, Capt. Orme, Mr. Spendlowe and self...." [35] The Gordon Journal: "This morning an Engineer and 100 men...." [36] The only hint given in the Gordon Journal as to the author of the original document is under this date. The Gordon Journal reads, "Mr. Spendlowe and self with 20 of our men went to the place where the new road comes into the old one...." "Self" here seems to refer to "Midshipman"; but Mr. Gordon often refers to himself as an engineer and never once inserts his own name, though he was a most important official. Gordon probably accompanied or followed Spendlowe. [37] Entries written by one while detained at Fort Cumberland. If written by Gordon he hastened immediately to the front, for he was with Braddock's advance on July 9. [38] The Gordon Journal: "One of our Engineers, who was in front of the Carpenters marking the road, saw the Enemy first." Who but Gordon would have omitted his name under these circumstances? [39] This last paragraph is evidently an additional memorandum of British loss. The contents of the chest was undoubtedly £10,000. [40] _British Newspaper Accounts of Braddock's Defeat_, p. 10. Pennsylvania _Colonial Records_, vol. vi., p. 482. [41] This view of Braddock's defeat is given in the late John Fiske's recent volume, _New France and New England_. [42] London _Public Advertiser_, November 3, 1755. [43] London _Public Advertiser_, November 3, 1755. [44] Cf. _British Newspaper Accounts of Braddock's Defeat_, p. 9. Pennsylvania _Colonial Records_, vol. vi., p. 482. London _Public Advertiser_, November 3, 1755. [45] Cf. _British Newspaper Accounts of Braddock's Defeat_, p. 9; London _Public Advertiser_, November 3, 1755. [46] This chapter is from Neville B. Craig's _The Olden Time_, vol. ii., pp. 465-468, 539-544. [47] See _Historic Highways of America_, vol. v. [48] Preserved in the library of Harvard University. [49] "Many misstatements are prevalent in the country adjacent to the line of march, especially east of Cumberland, the traditionary name of Braddock's route being often applied to routes we know he did not pursue. It is probable the ground of the application consists in their having been used by the Quarter Master's men in bringing on those Pennsylvania wagons and pack horses procured by Dr. Franklin, with so much trouble and at so great expense of truth. Sir John Sinclair wore a Hussar's cap, and Franklin made use of the circumstance to terrify the German settlers with the belief that he was a Hussar who would administer to them the tyrannical treatment they had experienced in their own country if they did not comply with his wishes. It is singular that a small brook and an obscure country road in Berkley County, Virginia, bear the name of Sir John's Run, and Sir John's Road, supposed to be taken from the name of this officer. [50] "The original name of Cumberland was Cucucbetuc, and from its favorable position on the Potomac, was most probably the site of a Shawnee village, like Old Town; moreover, it was marked by an Indian name, a rare occurrence in this vicinity, if any judgment may be drawn from the few that have been preserved. [51] "This interesting locality lies at the west foot of the Meadow Mountain, which is one of the most important of the Alleghany Ridges, in Pennsylvania especially, where it constitutes the dividing ridge between the eastern and western waters. A rude entrenchment, about half a mile north of the Inn on the National Road, kept by Mr. Huddleson, marks the site of this fort. This is most probably the field of a skirmish spoken of in frontier history, between a Mr. Parris, with a scouting party from Fort Cumberland, and the Sieur Donville, commanding some French and Indians, in which the French officer was slain. The tradition is distinctly preserved in the vicinity, with a misapprehension of Washington's participation in it, arising probably from the partial resemblance between the names of Donville and Jumonville. From the positiveness of the information, in regard to the battle ground, conflicting with what we know of Jumonville's death, it seems probable enough that this was the scene of this Indian skirmish; and as such, it possesses a classic interest, valuable in proportion to the scarcity of such places. [52] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. v., ch. 4. [53] _Bouquet Papers, MSS._ Preserved in British Museum: Forbes to Pitt, July 10; Forbes to Bouquet, August 2; Bouquet au Forbes, July 26, 1758. [54] Speed's _The Wilderness Road_, pp. 56-57. [55] Speed's _The Wilderness Road_, p. 60. [56] Lowdermilk's _History of Cumberland_, p. 275. [57] _Land Records of Allegheny County, Md._ Liber E, fol. 191. [58] _Id._, Liber G. fol. 251. [59] _Id._, Liber I and J, fol. 105. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected except for narratives and letters included in this text. 3. Footnotes have been moved to the end of the main text body. 4. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest paragraph break. 5. Certain words use an oe ligature in the original. 6. Carat character (^) followed by a single letter or a set of letters in curly brackets is indicative of subscript in the original book. 
41143	----	HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 6 [Illustration: CUMBERLAND GAP AND BOONE'S WILDERNESS ROAD] HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 6 Boone's Wilderness Road BY ARCHER BUTLER HULBERT _With Maps and Illustrations_ [Illustration] THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY CLEVELAND, OHIO 1903 COPYRIGHT, 1903 BY THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 11 I. THE PILGRIMS OF THE WEST 19 II. THE FIRST EXPLORERS 48 III. ANNALS OF THE ROAD 78 IV. KENTUCKY IN THE REVOLUTION 145 V. AT THE END OF BOONE'S ROAD 175 ILLUSTRATIONS I. CUMBERLAND GAP AND BOONE'S WILDERNESS ROAD _Frontispiece_ II. PLAT OF BOONESBOROUGH 97 III. FILSON'S MAP OF KENTUCKY 119 PREFACE The naming of our highways is an interesting study. Like roads the world over they are usually known by two names--the destinations to which they lead. The famous highway through New York state is known as the Genesee Road in the eastern half of the state and as the Albany Road in the western portion. In a number of cities through which it passes--Utica, Syracuse, etc.--it is Genesee Street. This path in the olden time was the great road to the famed Genesee country. The old Forbes Road across Pennsylvania soon lost its earliest name; but it is preserved at its termination, for the Pittsburger of today goes to the Carnegie Library on the "Forbes Street" car line. The Maysville Pike--as unknown today as it was of national prominence three quarters of a century ago--leading across Ohio from Wheeling to Maysville (Limestone) and on to Lexington, is known in Kentucky as the Zanesville Pike; from that city in Ohio the road branched off from the old National Road. The "Glade Road" was the important branch of the Pennsylvania or Pittsburg Road which led through the Glades of the Alleghenies to the Youghiogheny. One of the most singular names for a road was that of the "Shun Pike" between Watertown and Erie, in northwestern Pennsylvania. The large traffic over the old "French Road"--Marin's Portage Road--between these points on Lake Erie and French Creek necessitated, early in the nineteenth century, a good road-bed. Accordingly a road company took hold of the route and improved it--placing toll gates on it for recompensation. Those who refused to pay toll broke open a parallel route nearby, which was as free as it was rough. It became known as the "Shun" Pike because those who traversed it shunned the toll road. Few roads named from their builders, such as Braddock, Forbes, Bouquet, Wayne, Ebenezer Zane, Marin, and Boone preserved the oldtime name. Indeed nearly all our roads have lost the ancient name, a fact that should be sincerely mourned. The Black Swamp has been drained, therefore there can be now no "Black Swamp Road." There are now no refugees and the "Refugees Road" is lost not only to sight but to the memory of most. Perhaps there is but one road in the central West which is commonly known and called by the old Indian name; this is the "Tuscarawas Path," a modern highway in Eastern Ohio which was widened and made a white man's road by the first white army that ever crossed the Ohio River into what is now the State of Ohio. One roadway--the Wilderness Road to Kentucky from Virginia and Tennessee, the longest, blackest, hardest road of pioneer days in America--holds the oldtime name with undiminished loyalty and is true today to every gloomy description and vile epithet that was ever written or spoken of it. It was broken open for white man's use by Daniel Boone from the Watauga settlement on the Holston River, Tennessee, to the mouth of Otter Creek on the Kentucky River in the month preceding the outbreak of open revolution at Lexington and Concord. It was known as "Boone's Trail," the "Kentucky Road," the "road to Caintuck," or the "Virginia Road," but its common name was the "Wilderness Road." A wilderness of laurel thickets lay between the Kentucky settlements and Cumberland Gap and was the most desolate country imaginable. The name was transferred to the road that passed through it. It seems right that the brave frontiersman who opened this route to white men should be remembered by this act; and for a title to this volume "Boone's Wilderness Road" has been selected. As in the case of other highways with which this series of monographs is dealing, so with Boone's Wilderness Road: the road itself is of little consequence. The following pages treat of phases of the story of the West suggested by Boone's Road--the first social movement into the lower Ohio Valley, Henderson's Transylvania Company, the struggle of the Watauga settlement to prevent the southern Indians from cutting Kentucky off from the world, the struggle of the Kentucky settlements against the British and their Indian allies, the burst of population over Boone's Road into Kentucky, and what the early founding of that commonwealth meant to the East and to the West. Boone and Harrod and their compatriots assured the world of the splendid lands of Kentucky; Richard Henderson and his associates of the Transylvania Company proved the questionable fact that a settlement there could be made and be maintained. Boone's Road, opened for the Transylvania Company, made a way thither. The result was a marvelous westward movement that for timeliness, heroism and ultimate success is without a parallel in our annals. When the armies of the Revolutionary War are counted, that first army of twenty-five thousand men, women, and children which hurried over Boone's little path, through dark Powell's Valley, over the "high-swung gateway" of Cumberland Gap, and down through the laurel wildernesses to Crab Orchard, Danville, Lexington, and Louisville must not be forgotten. No army ever meant so much to the West; some did not mean more to the East. The author is greatly indebted for facts and figures to Thomas Speed's invaluable study _The Wilderness Road_, and to other Filson Club Publications, and for inspiration and suggestion to Mr. Allen's _The Blue Grass Region of Kentucky_. A. B. H. Marietta, Ohio, May 20, 1903. Boone's Wilderness Road _It is impossible to come upon this road without pausing, or to write of it without a tribute._ --JAMES LANE ALLEN. CHAPTER I THE PILGRIMS OF THE WEST No English colony in America looked upon the central West with such jealous eye as Virginia. The beautiful valley of the _Oyo_--the Indian exclamation for "Beautiful"--which ran southwesterly through the great forests of the continent's interior was early claimed as the sole possession of the Virginians. The other colonies were hemmed in by prescribed boundary lines, definitely outlined in their royal charters. New York was bounded by Lake Erie and the Allegheny and thought little of the West. The Pennsylvanian colony was definitely bounded by the line which is the western boundary line of that commonwealth today. Carolina's extremity stopped at thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes. Virginia's western boundary was not defined; hence the West was hers. England herself was not at all sure of the West until after the fall of Quebec; but the Treaty of Paris was soon signed and, so far as the French were concerned, the colonies extended to the Mississippi. Then Pontiac's bloody war broke out and matters were at a standstill until Bouquet hewed his way into "the heart of the enemies' country" and, on the Muskingum, brought Pontiac's desperate allies, the Delawares and Shawanese, to terms. But now, when the West was his, the king of England did a wondrous thing. He issued a proclamation in the year 1763 which forbade anyone securing "patents for any lands beyond the heads or sources of any of the rivers which fall into the Atlantic Ocean from the West or Northwest!" Thus Lord Hillsborough, British Secretary for the Colonies, thought to checkmate what he called the "roving disposition" of the colonists, particularly the Virginians. The other colonies were restrained by definite boundaries; Virginia, too, should be restrained. Hillsborough might as well have adopted the plan of the ignoramus who, when methods for keeping the Indians from crossing the frontier were being discussed, suggested that a strip of land along the entire western frontier be cleared of trees and bushes, in the belief that the savages would not dare to cross the open! Yet the secretary's agent set to work to mark out a western boundary line which should connect the western lines of Georgia and New York and so accomplish the limitation of Virginia. But the Virginians also acted. They sent an agent of their own, Thomas Walker, to Fort Stanwix (Rome, New York) to treat with the Six Nations for some of this very western land that Hillsborough was contriving to keep them out of. For the king issued the proclamation in the interest of the western Indians (and the annuities he received when the fur trade was prosperous) who desired that the West should be preserved to them. But what could be said if Virginia purchased the Indian's claim? Could a king's proclamation keep the Virginians from a territory to which, for value received, the Indians had given a quit-claim deed? This famous Treaty of Fort Stanwix was held in the fall of 1768. Three thousand Indians were present. Presents were lavished upon the chieftains. The western boundary line crossed from the west branch of the Susquehanna to Kittanning on the Allegheny River; it followed the Allegheny and Ohio Rivers southwest to the mouth of the Great Kanawha. Here it met Hillsborough's line which came up from Florida and which made the Great Kanawha the western boundary of Virginia. Had the Fort Stanwix line stopped here the western boundary line of the colonies would have been as Lord Hillsborough desired. But Walker did not pause here. Sir William Johnson, British Indian Agent for the Northern District, who was "thoroughly versed in the methods of making profit by his office," allowed Walker to extend the line so as to enclose Virginia's prospective purchase; and the Tennessee River was made the western boundary instead of the Great Kanawha. Thus Johnson at once satisfied the claims of Virginia and the pride of the Six Nations, who were still anxious to prove their long-boasted possession over the Cumberland region, as well as their sovereignty over the hated Cherokee, by thus formally disposing of the land. So everyone was satisfied--but Hillsborough. And yet the Crown was compelled, finally, to approve the Treaty of Fort Stanwix. This treaty marks an epoch in the history of the central West, since, thereby, nearly half of it became a portion of one of the Thirteen Colonies. The other half, north of the Ohio River, remained in the possession of the Indians who inhabited it. It is remarkable how little known that great territory was which now became a part of Virginia. This was largely because it was an uninhabited country. The territory north of the Ohio River was filled with Indian nations, some of whom had reigned there from times prehistoric. This was likewise true of the country south, where the great southern confederacies had held sway since white men came to this continent. But between these inhabited areas lay a pleasant land which any tribe would have gladly possessed had there not been so many rivals for it. Consequently it became a "dark and bloody" land where a thousand unrecorded battles were fought by Indians from both North and South who had the temerity to come there to hunt, or by armies who were hurrying through it in search of their foes who lived beyond. No Bouquet had pierced through to the Cumberland to release prisoners who might bring back reports of the land. No missionaries had carried their "great and good" words to this battle ground of the Nations and returned with tidings of its splendid meadows and their fertility. One or two adventuresome explorers had looked there and brought back practically all that the world knew of it. But they had never visited the most pleasant portions and knew little, if anything, of its real value. And all the Indians seemed to know was that it was a bloody border-land where no tribe could hunt in peace; where every shadow contained a lurking foe; and where every inch of soil was drenched with blood. Thus to an unknown and unoccupied border-land between the Indians of the North and those to the South, Virginia obtained, from one of its alleged possessors, a nominal hold. Could she maintain it? The world asked the question and awaited the answer, wonderingly. The principal reason why Virginia was successful was because her inhabitants were an agricultural people like their ancestors before them in England. Being an agricultural people they had expanded further, geographically, than the inhabitants of any of the other colonies. As early as 1740, cabins were being built in Bedford County, Virginia, over one hundred and fifty miles from the seaboard. There were settlements on the New River, a branch of the Great Kanawha, before the French and Indian war. Fort Loudoun, over the border, was erected in 1756, and Forts Long Island and Chissel in 1758. The Wyoming massacre in New York State in the Revolutionary War occurred on what was then the frontier, though Wyoming was less than a hundred miles from New York City. And, fortunately, this agricultural people was located in the most favorable place along the Atlantic for expansion, for a reason already mentioned. Back of New York and Pennsylvania roamed the Iroquois, Delawares, Shawanese, and other Indian nations. Back of Virginia, whose fine rivers rose in the mountains, lay a comparatively uninhabited country; for, the moment the Indians became allied with either of the encroaching European powers, they ceased contending together in the border-land behind Virginia. It was not until Virginians began to occupy it that it became anew a "dark and bloody ground." Virginia knew less of Indian warfare than some of the neighboring colonies until the era of her expansion when her sturdy people began occupying the land obtained at the Treaty of Fort Stanwix. The expansion of Virginia was greatly facilitated by the geographical position of the mountains along her western frontier. While the mountains of western New York and Pennsylvania obstructed expansion, in Virginia the mountain ranges facilitated it. Further north they trended directly north and south and even the rivers could find a passage-way only by following the most tortuous courses. True, the Hudson and Mohawk valleys offered a clear course to the great highland across to the Niagara River, but it was not until very late in the eighteenth century that the path across this watershed was open to white men. The two routes through Pennsylvania crossed the mountains horizontally and almost feared to follow the waterways. Braddock's Road crossed the waters of one stream three times at right angles in the space of eighty miles and did not follow it one hundred yards altogether. In Virginia the mountain ranges trend southwesterly, with the rivers between them, offering a practicable though roundabout route westward. But there was another thing Virginia possessed in addition to an agricultural people--an uninhabited territory west of her and some plain courses into it. She had among her citizens some daring, far-sighted, energetic men who might easily be called the first promoters of America. They were moneyed men who sought honestly to make money; but they were also men of chivalry and intense patriotism--Virginians of Virginians. They thought of their pockets, but they also thought of their colony and their king; the standing of the Old Dominion was very dear to them: its growth in commercial as well as geographical dimensions. They desired to be thought well of at home; they desired that Virginia should be thought the best of all America. Of these men the Washingtons were the most prominent, and George Washington was a marvelously inspired leader. As early as 1749 Virginians secured a grant of land south of the Ohio and directly west of old Virginia. The enterprise amounted to nothing save by precipitating the contest between England and France for the West. The example of the younger Washington in fighting for the possession of the West, in encouraging the disheartened people of the frontier in the dark days of defeat, in aiding in the final victory, in investing heavily in western land (for he, it is said, died the richest man in America, and half his wealth lay west of the Alleghenies), in encouraging the building of the Potomac Canal, in impressing upon the people the commercial value of exploiting the entire West from Lake Huron to Cumberland Gap, affords perhaps the most remarkable instance in our whole national history of one man inspiring a people to greater things. A place and a rough way thither was ready for expanding Virginia--and such sons as Washington gave the inspiration. Through the great "trough" between the Allegheny and Blue Ridge ranges passes the pioneer route to which we of the central West owe as much as to any thoroughfare in America--that rough, long, roundabout road which, coming down from Lancaster and Yorktown, crossed the Potomac at Wadkin's Ferry, and passed up the Shenandoah valley by Martinsburg, Winchester and Staunton; and on to the headwaters of the New River, where it was joined by the thoroughfare through central Virginia from Richmond. Here, near the meeting of these famous old-time Virginia thoroughfares, stood Fort Chissel, erected in 1758 and situated two hundred miles east of Cumberland Gap. Beyond Fort Chissel ran the Indian trail toward the Gap and, within fifty miles of the Gap, stood Fort Watauga on a branch of the Holston. This was the most westerly fort at the time of the Stanwix treaty, and about the rude fort was springing up the Watauga settlement. Other earlier settlements were made at Draper's Meadows and at Inglis Ferry on New River by families bearing those names. For more than a century the population of Virginia and North Carolina had been slowly sifting up the river valleys toward the West and by the time the king's proclamation was issued many cabins were already erected beyond the headwaters of streams which fell "into the Atlantic Ocean from the West or Northwest." Even the faithful Hillsborough seems to have recognized this since his boundary line passed through Chiswell's Mine on the Great Kanawha and the mouth of that river--much further west than a strict interpretation of the proclamation would allow. This vanguard which was moving westward was led by explorers and hunters. Of two of the former, mention will be particularly made. The parties of hunters who now began to press beyond the furthest settlements, while they subsisted on game, were also real explorers of the West and helped to set in motion and give zest to the great immigration which followed the signing of the Stanwix treaty. It was only one year after the Stanwix treaty when Daniel Boone came up from his home on the Yadkin in North Carolina and led a company of men through the Gap into the land whose hero and idol he was ever to be. About the same time John Finley and party were trapping on the forbidden rivers, and Colonel James Knox and company of nine hunted on the New, Clinch, and Holston Rivers, and reaching even to the lower Cumberland in 1769-70. These parties of men found that a paradise for the husbandman was to be speedily revealed to the world at the foothills of the Cumberland and Pine mountains on the great plain falling away westward to the Mississippi. At first, only the most vague description of the rich meadows of the West reached the Virginian settlements, but, meager as they were, they started a tide of immigration quite unparalleled in American history. One of these descriptions is preserved for us in the autobiography of Daniel Boone, and, though couched in language with which he was probably less familiar than his amanuensis, still is not unlike the stories told in border cabins to eager listening frontiersmen who were soon on their rough way to this El Dorado beyond the horrid ranges of the Cumberlands: "We found everywhere abundance of wild beasts of all sorts, through this vast forest. The buffalo were more frequent than I have seen cattle in the settlements, browsing on the leaves of the cane, or cropping the herbage on those extensive plains, fearless, because ignorant of the violence of man.... Nature was here a series of wonders and a fund of delight. Here she displayed her ingenuity and industry in a variety of flowers and fruits, beautifully colored, elegantly shaped and charmingly flavored; and we were diverted with innumerable animals presenting themselves perpetually to our view.... Just at the close of day the gentle gales retired and left the place to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking around with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below: On the other hand had I surveyed the famous Ohio river, that rolled in silent dignity, marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows, and penetrate the clouds." Inspired by such descriptions as these, there came in the wake of the hunter-explorers crowds of immigrants. Very many came even bringing their families, for the novelty of the adventure and because there was nothing to keep them where they had had but a tomahawk claim on the border. There were thousands who entered the West and became valuable citizens (considering the work to be done) who would best be described as gypsies. For a larger part of the way across the continent this peculiar class of people moved westward between the advanced explorers and the swarm of genuine "settlers" whose feet, even at this time, were making the middle of our continent tremble. For instance, very many of the first settlers in the territory near the Mississippi hailed from a portion of the land between their home there and the Allegheny mountains, just as many of the first settlers between the Ohio and Lake Erie hailed from Virginia's land between the Ohio and Tennessee. The phrase "following the immigration" was a common one and covered this class of pioneers who moved away from a given district of land when it began to fill with settlers. There has appeared a disposition in some quarters to attempt to minimize the value of the hosts of so-called "squatters" and "tomahawk claimers" who first moved into the West. Our pioneer literature is full of discreditable allusions, made by the second tide of pioneers who came West, concerning the scattered ranks of first comers, their moral character, their ways of thought and living. The later blueblood stock had not a little to say concerning the pioneers of Western Virginia and Kentucky flavored with the same spice that Dickens employed when, a little later, he jotted down his "American Notes." It seems as though it were reasonable to remember what these first comers did rather than the picture of what they were. But for them there could never have been a better West. Who composed the armies of McIntosh, Brodhead, Crawford, Harmar, St. Clair, and Wayne but these rough, wild-looking men who first entered the West? What is now western Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Kentucky gave practically all the troops which conquered the land between the Ohio River and the Great Lakes. And all of them, save the few who could raise money to buy some of it, retired again to their slovenly "claims" south of the Ohio--and a flood-tide of newcomers came after them to bring a new era they could never have brought, and, incidentally, leave to posterity repulsive pictures of them. It hath been said: "Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree; and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." The West was a land of brier and thorn, and men as rough as briers and thorns were needed to strike the first swift hard blows. The squatter in the West played an important part and should not be remembered solely by the pictures drawn of his filth, lawlessness, and laziness. The Cleaveland of 1798 was a paradise beside the Cleveland of 1810. Was it not Caleb Atwater who said that "not one young man, whose family was rich, and of very high standing in the Eastern States, has succeeded in Ohio?" A little later in this narrative we shall read of one "Abraham hanks" who went, an unknown pioneer, with Daniel Boone through Cumberland Gap at the very van of all the western immigration! Atwater was not referring to his grandson--the immortal son of Nancy Hanks. Theodore Roosevelt in the following words has emphasized the debt our country owes to this class of early citizens: "Nevertheless this very ferocity was not only inevitable, but it was in a certain sense proper; or at least, even if many of its manifestations were blamable, the spirit that lay behind them was right. The backwoodsmen were no sentimentalists; they were grim, hard, matter-of-fact men, engaged all their lives long in an unending struggle with hostile forces, both human and natural; men who in this struggle had acquired many unamiable qualities, but who had learned likewise to appreciate at their full value the inestimable virtues of courage and common-sense. The crisis [Revolution] demanded that they should be both strong and good; but, above all things, it demanded that they should be strong. Weakness would have ruined them. It was needful that justice should stand before mercy; and they could no longer have held their homes, had they not put down their foes, of every kind with an iron hand." With these uncouth border families moved another class of men known as land speculators. The schemes of these fortune hunters and of the many great companies of which they were the representatives would fill a moderate volume and can only be hinted at here. As we have noted, a company was organized very early to speculate in western lands, called the Ohio Company. It received from the king of England a grant of land between the Monongahela and Great Kanawha Rivers, but failed to fulfil the required conditions and the Charter reverted to the Crown. From that day to the breaking out of the Revolutionary War numerous land companies secured by one means or another a claim to certain lands and many sought such claims but never secured them. It will be necessary to refer to one of these companies later in the course of our narrative. Near the front in this race for the rich meadows between the Ohio and Tennessee were bounty-land claimants. One of Virginia's most effective pleas for the great territory which had come into her possession was that she might reward her soldiers of the French and Indian wars. While as a people she had known less of Indian warfare than some of the colonies, Virginia had been liberal in sending troops northward to defend the frontier. And these Virginians had made a name for themselves at Braddock's defeat and elsewhere. Washington was always insistent that the claims of these old veterans of the bloody border war be redeemed in good lands, and it must be remembered ever with pride that as late as 1770, only six years before he became commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States at Cambridge, and but two years after the signing of the Stanwix treaty, he made the difficult journey to the Ohio River and down that river in a canoe to Virginia's new empire on the Great Kanawha, where surveys of bounty lands for his heroes of Fort Necessity were first made. Additional surveys were soon made along the Ohio and Licking Rivers. Explorers, hunters, squatters, speculators, and bounty-land claimants--this was the heterogeneous population that was surging westward to the land of which Boone wrote. But not all came down the old thoroughfare between the Allegheny and Blue Ridge Mountains and through Cumberland Gap. Many followed northward the rough trails which descended the New and Monongahela Rivers, while many went northwesterly over Braddock's overgrown twelve-foot road or along the winding narrow track of Forbes's Road through the Pennsylvania Glades to the little frontier fortress, Fort Pitt. From the time Bouquet relieved this beleaguered garrison until the Stanwix treaty, Pittsburg, as the town was now known, had been growing. One year after that treaty (1769) the manor of Pittsburg was surveyed, the survey embracing five thousand seven hundred and sixty-six acres. Upon the signing of the Stanwix treaty, Pittsburg became an important point and was claimed by both Pennsylvania and Virginia. About it sprang up villages and from it down the Ohio and up the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers settlements spread. What was loosely known as the "Monongahela Country"--the territory between the Monongahela and Ohio Rivers--became quite populous. Here, high up along the Ohio River, the Virginians learned how to fight the red man, if they had never known before. The decade succeeding Pontiac's war, though nominally a peaceful one, was, nevertheless, one long and bitter duel between the Indians north of the Ohio and the Virginians who were coming "in shoals" to its southern bank. It has been estimated that the total loss of life within that decade was as great as the total loss in the open war--Dunmore's War--which soon broke out and which momentarily threatened the extinction of Virginia's great colonial movement into the southern half of this black forest of the West. We have refrained from using the name Kentucky long enough, perhaps, to accomplish the purpose of impressing upon the reader's mind the part Virginia and the Virginians played in the creation of the earliest settlement in the West, first known as the county, then the state, of Kentucky. As Professor Shaler has said: "She owes to Virginia the most of the people she received during the half century when her society was taking shape: her institutions, be they good or evil, her ideals of life, her place in the nation's history, are all as immediately derived from her great Mother Virginia as are an individual man's from the mother who bore him." The name Kentucky, Kentuckgin, Kantucky, Kentucke, Caintuck, as it was variously spelled, may have been derived from an Iroquois word _Ken-ta-kee_, which means "among the meadows." When, in the olden days, only the long, painted canoes of the Iroquois could be moored in safety in the shades of the woodland meadows south of the Oyo, the name Ken-ta-kee was first heard--a name which has come down to us so pregnant with pride and power. The Catawba River, which gained its name, perhaps, from the famous war-path which followed it toward the land of the Catawbas in the south, was first known as the Louisa River (named by Walker in honor of the wife of the "Bloody Duke" of Cumberland), and afterwards as the Kentucky River. After the treaty at the close of Dunmore's War, Virginia had two quit-claim deeds to her western empire: one from the Iroquois, who boasted their possession of it, and one from the Shawanese, who had disputed the settlement. There was yet another claimant to deal with, the Cherokees of the South. In the year following the battle of Point Pleasant (1774) a land company headed by Colonel Richard Henderson purchased from the Cherokees the land between the Ohio, Kentucky, and Cumberland Rivers. This purchase was achieved at Fort Watauga through the agency of Daniel Boone. This private purchase from the Indians was afterward annulled by both Virginia and North Carolina, but so far as the Indian claims to Kentucky were concerned it had passed into the possession of the white man. Every inch of soil had been fairly obtained from each and every claimant who had made it a "dark and bloody ground" through their battles for it, since the earliest period of recorded history. But at the time of the Cherokee purchase, an old Indian chief said to Boone: "Brother, we have given you a fine land, but I believe you will have much trouble in settling it." Perhaps the Cherokees knew what Shawanese quit-claim deeds were worth! After making this purchase for Colonel Henderson, Boone engaged to mark out a road through Cumberland Gap to the center of the newly acquired territory. Following the old trail through the Gap, Boone's Road ended at a new settlement at the mouth of Otter Creek on the Kentucky River named Boonesborough, in his honor. Fort Boonesborough was completed July 14, 1775. Colonel Logan and party came westward through the Gap at the same time but diverged from Boone's Road on Rockcastle Creek, and opened the more important branch of the road toward Louisville by way of Crab Orchard and Danville, and erected Fort Logan one mile west of Standford, in what is now Lincoln County, Kentucky. Harrod's, Logan's, and Boone's forts were the important early "stations" in the West. To them the thousands wended their tedious way over the "Wilderness Road," as both branches (Logan's and Boone's) were fitly called, or down the Ohio from Pittsburg. And along these lines of western movement cabins and clearings made their rapid appearance despite the era of bloodshed which began almost simultaneously with the opening of the Revolutionary War in the East. Such were the pilgrims of the West. It is interesting to note that these leaders of civilization in the West were true Americans--American born and American bred. It is remarkable that the discoverers of the American central West were either French or American. For the work of exploring this _hinterland_, England scarcely furnished a man; she can write no names opposite those of Brulé, Cartier, Champlain, Du Lhuth, Hennepin, Joliet, Marquette, and La Salle. Nearly all that England knew of the interior she learned from the French. Her great explorers were maritime explorers and her conquest of New France was effected by water. But while the West could not have for its first colonists the counterpart of the hardy, irresistible race who first came to the Atlantic seaboard, it did have the next best thing--the direct descendants of them. It was a race of Americanized Britons who pressed from Virginia into the West. Hardly a name among them but was pure Norman or Saxon. Of the twenty-five members of the Political Club at Danville, Kentucky, which discussed with ability the Federal Constitution, all but two were descendants of colonists from Great Britain and Ireland. Of forty-five members of the convention which framed Kentucky's first constitution, only three could claim European ancestry. Of the seven hundred members of the Filson Club, the representative historical society of Kentucky today, there are not more than twenty who are not either English, Scotch, Welsh, or Irish. The blood of the mother country flowed in purer strain in no portion of the continent at the outbreak of the Revolutionary War than in the Virginian settlement of Kentucky. That the blood was true to its fighting traditions is proved by the Revolutionary pension rolls. In 1840 there were nine hundred Revolutionary soldiers receiving pensions in Kentucky. This race gave to the West its real heroes--the Gists, Walkers, Boones, Clarks, Todds, Shelbys, Kentons, Logans, Lewises, Crawfords, Gibsons, and St. Clairs. In frontier cabins they were bred to a free life in a free land--worthy successors to Washington and his school, worthy men to subdue and rule the empire of which they began the conquest before the outbreak of the Revolutionary War. In the form of these sturdy colonizers the American republic stretched its arm across the Appalachian mountain system and took in its grasp the richest river valley in the world at the end of Boone's Wilderness Road. That arm was never withdrawn, that grasp never relinquished. The leaven of old Virginia leavened the whole lump. Thus may be outlined briefly the era of expansion in which Boone's Road played an all-important part. In the succeeding chapters the phases of this historic movement are reviewed as the meager data now obtainable can permit. CHAPTER II THE FIRST EXPLORERS The first real explorations of the great territory secured by Virginia at the Treaty of Fort Stanwix were made by Dr. Thomas Walker, who later so skilfully managed Virginia's part of that treaty, and Christopher Gist, in the early years of the second half of the eighteenth century, 1750 and 1751. The brief journals[1] written by these men are the sources of our first information concerning the vast territory west of the Appalachian mountain system--the eastern half of the Mississippi basin south of the Ohio River. They are meager records of hard day's pilgrimages, an outline of the routes pursued, and a description of the lands which were traversed. Both were explorers for two newly-formed land companies. Walker represented the Loyal Land Company of London, and Gist was the representative of the Ohio Company. The company for which Walker acted had secured a grant of eight hundred thousand acres in the territory now embraced in Kentucky north of 36° 30´. The Ohio Company had a grant of five hundred thousand acres between the Kanawha and Monongahela Rivers. These men were sent to search out favorable lands and report on the giants and grapes. They found both. Little suggestion of the romance and daring of these historic journeys can be found in either of the journals of them; they make slight books. But volumes can be written on what can be read by the most careless reader between their few lines. The long climbing over the almost pathless mountains, the nights spent in discomfort, the countless trials, fears, dangers of which they knew so much and told so little--all this should make a story if it never has, that could not by any means find an uninterested reader. No youth's history is of moment until we know the man and know that he is a man among men. Our nation is still a boy. Only with the passing of the years will its boyhood be studied and known as it should be known; when that time comes, the brief stories of such men as Walker and Gist will appear of priceless value. "Having, on the 12th of December last, been employed for a certain consideration to go to the Westward in order to discover a proper Place for a Settlement, I left my house on the Sixth day of March, at 10 o'clock, 1749-50, in Company with Ambrose Powell, William Tomlinson, Colby Chew, Henry Lawless & John Hughs. Each man had a Horse and we had two to carry the Baggage. I lodged this night at Col. Joshua Fry's, in Albemarle, which County includes the Chief of the head Branches of James River on the East side of the Blue Ridge." Thus begins Dr. Walker's journal. At this time England and her colonies were dating by the old calendar, each new year beginning on the twenty-fifth of March. Accordingly they started nineteen days before the beginning of the year 1750. It was a brave little company of adventurous men. Walker had attended William and Mary College, and then had joined the ranks of that distinguished army of representative Virginians who, with saddle-bags and surveying instruments, proved to be the vanguard of the army which was to achieve the real conquest of the West. His home was Castle Hill, near Charlottesville, Albemarle County, Virginia, where his companions had rendezvoused for the present expedition and from which point they began their historic journey. Powell was of the best Virginian stock, and has left his name to one of the great valleys through which the highway to the West ran. His son became a Revolutionary officer and his great-grandson was General A. P. Hill, the famous Confederate leader. Chew was from Orange County, Virginia, and belonged to the Maryland branch of the Chew family. Two Presidents of the United States, Madison and Taylor, could claim him as a relative. Seven years later he served in Washington's regiment in Forbes's expedition against Fort Duquesne, and was killed in Grant's wild attack on that fort. As the journal states, this company spent the first night out with Colonel Joshua Fry. Fry too was one of them in spirit, though he did not accompany them westward. He was a graduate of Oxford University, joint author with Jefferson of Fry and Jefferson's celebrated Map of Virginia, and a commissioner for the crown in establishing the boundary line between North Carolina and Virginia. He was killed by being thrown from his horse while taking command of Washington's expedition against Fort Duquesne, four years later. These statistics show plainly that the best brain and blood of Virginia was foremost in attempting to realize Virginia's dream of conquest and expansion. But it was a time for brave men to show themselves. Ambitious Virginia had been slow to claim the West, where even at this early date Frenchmen had gone so far into the wilderness. Céloron, bold emissary of the humpbacked Canadian Governor Gallissonière, was now burying leaden plates at the mouths of the rivers which emptied into the Ohio, as a sign of French possession of the West. One of these was placed at the mouth of the Great Kanawha "at the mouth of the river Chinodahihetha, this 18th day of August," claiming for the Bourbon crown the entire territory in which the grant of land to the Ohio Company was located. There was not a moment to lose if the West was to be saved to England. A settlement must be made quickly, and Walker and his band pushed on immediately to find a "proper Place for a Settlement." But all this, seemingly, is neither here nor there--so far as Walker's Journal is concerned. There is not one mention of the political crisis then at hand; instead of French claims, Walker deals with tired horses or broken-legged dogs, and where one might suppose he would mention national boundary lines he tells only of cutting names on trees. And at the end, where the reader might look for a summary statement of the results of his tour he finds this: "I got home about noon. We killed in the Journey 13 Buffaloes, 8 Elks, 53 Bears, 20 Deer, 4 Wild Geese, about 150 Turkeys, besides small game. We might have killed three times as much meat, if we had wanted it." Yet, so far as human interest is concerned, the record is exceptionally entertaining, and to a student of the great thoroughfare from Virginia to Kentucky it is full of meaning; because of its many references to the difficulties of traveling at that early date, and to the varied experiences of explorers on the earliest thoroughfares westward. It is this story of experience in traveling west in 1750 that makes Walker's Journal of interest in the present study. On the day after the party left Colonel Fry's, "We set off about 8," writes Dr. Walker, "but the day proving wet, we only went to Thomas Joplin's on Rockfish. This is a pretty River, which might at a small expense be made fit for transporting Tobacco; but it has lately been stopped by a Mill Dam near the Mouth to the prejudice of the upper inhabitants who would at their own expense clear and make it navigable, were they permitted." Virginia's great industry evidently flourished this far from tidewater even at this early date, though handicapped by these dams which were erected by the "Averice of Millers," on which Dr. Walker comments again in his next day's record. The record for Sunday, the eleventh, is appropriately brief: "11th. The Sabbath." In only one or two instances did the party travel on Sunday, and then the journey was occasioned by necessity. On the twelfth the party crossed the Upper James River above the mouth of the Rivanna, and lodged with one Thomas Hunt. "13th. We went early to William Calloway's and supplied ourselves with Rum, Thread, and other necessaries & from thence took the main Waggon Road leading to Wood's or the New River. It is not well clear'd or beaten yet, but will be a very good one with proper management." Wood's River--or New River, as we know it today--was discovered in 1671 by Colonel Abraham Wood, who explored along the line which later became the boundary line between North Carolina and Virginia. He crossed the Alleghenies through "Wood's Gap" (now Flower Gap) and, going down Little River, found New River not far from Inglis Ferry, where Walker's party crossed three days later. This mention of the road Walker traversed is his first reference to the great road westward toward Cumberland Gap; he remarks its roughness, but before he returned to Virginia he learned new lessons on rough roads. "This night we lodged in Adam Beards low grounds. Beard is an ignorant, impudent, brutish fellow, and would have taken us up, had it not been for a reason, easily suggested." When thus brought in contrast with the hospitality usually tendered Walker's party, the deportment of this churlish mountaineer is conspicuous. Travelers on these first highways were ever in need--if for nothing more than a camping-place. The people who settled beside the frontier roads were trained by bitter experience to a generous hospitality. This hospitality was particularly marked, throughout the colonies, among those who could afford it, especially on the frontiers; and here it was often bestowed upon travelers when it could be ill-afforded. The modern hotel has in a large measure relieved the general public from the burden of continual and promiscuous hospitality, and it has been found that where hotels are least known this prime requisite of an expanding civilization may still be found. On the frontier, men were dependent on those who lived beside the road, not only in time of accident and sickness, but at all times--for little food and forage could be carried. At times travelers nearly perished when once beyond the frontier line. Walker's party, though they killed the large amount of game mentioned, were once compelled to kill and eat one of their dogs. Captain Estill, who lost his life in Kentucky in the engagement which bears his name, is said to have done a great service for emigrants from Virginia by killing game and leaving the meat beside the road, in order to "pass on and notify incoming trains where they might find a supply of meat." Instances of vile treatment of travelers are not often cited, but the few that exist are the exceptions that prove the rule of generosity which was common to the time. Leaving Beard's, Walker and his men went, on the fourteenth, to Nicholas Welch's, "where," the Doctor writes, "we bought corn for our horses, and had some Victuals dress'd for Breakfast." From here they climbed the Blue Ridge through Buford's Gap, in Bedford County, through which the Norfolk and Western Railroad now passes. "The Ascent and Descent is so easie," writes Walker, "that a Stranger would not know when he crossed the Ridge." On the day after, they reached "the great Lick" near the present city of Roanoke, and continued up the trail on the following day to near the historic Inglis Ferry, not far from the present village of Blacksburg, Montgomery County, Virginia. From this on, Walker's route is not of importance to our study, as he missed the great trail which would have taken him to the pleasant meadows of Kentucky--though he struck it again at Cumberland Gap but did not follow it--and wandered over a circuitous route thus outlined by Daniel Bryan: "They started from low down in Virginia, traveled westwardly across Alleghany Mountains to Chissel's Lead Mine, on New River; thence into the Holston Valley, thence over Walden's Ridge and Powell's Mountain into Powell's Valley.... They then continued down the valley, leaving Cumberland Mountain a small distance on their right hand, until they came to Cumberland Gap.... At the foot of this mountain they fell into an Indian path leading from the Cherokee towns on Tennessee River to the Shawnee Indian towns on the Ohio, which path they followed down Yellow Creek to the old ford of Cumberland River.... Thence they went on the path down the river to the Flat Lick, eight miles; here they left the river, continued on the path, turning more north, crossing some of the head branches of the Kentucky River over a poor and hilly country, until they concluded there was no good country in the West. They then took an easterly course over the worst mountains and laurel thickets in the world.... They crossed the Laurel or Cumberland Mountain and fell into the Green brier country, almost starved to death ... and reached home with life only to pay for all their trouble and suffering." Regretting that this opinion of the final value of Walker's journey cannot be gainsaid, it is yet of interest to follow his footsteps and learn what were some of the experiences of such early explorers as these. On the twenty-sixth they "left the Inhabitans," as Dr. Walker called the line of civilization, and were at last within the wild land where no settlers had yet come. On the night of the twenty-ninth the "Dogs were very uneasie," and the next day, on Reedy Creek, a branch of the South Fork of the Holston, the tracks of a party of Indians were discovered, which explained the restlessness of the dogs. It is probably little realized in this day how valuable dogs were to explorers and immigrants. They were not only of service in giving warning of the approach of strangers, but were well-nigh indispensable in securing game and in searching for lost horses. Dr. Walker's love for dogs is a tradition in the family, and his care of them on this journey is typical of the gentleman and the wise frontiersman. At the junction of Reedy Creek and the Holston--an historic spot in Tennessee--Walker found a gigantic elm tree, which measured twenty-five feet in circumference at a distance of three feet from the ground. Pioneers and explorers considered the study of trees a fine art. By this means they always judged the quality of the soil, and knew at a glance by the growth that stood on it the character of any piece of land. The diaries of all that old school of western adventurers contain frequent mention of trees which were an almost infallible criterion of the soil beneath. Washington had keen eyes for trees--as for everything else--as illustrated in the journal of his trip down the Ohio River in 1770. On the fourth of November he found a sycamore on the Great Kanawha, in comparison with which this first elm of Walker's was insignificant. It measured, three feet from the ground, forty-five feet in circumference, and near by stood another measuring thirty-one feet around. Upon hearing about this larger tree, some one remarked that Washington might have told the truth about the cherry tree but he told a "whopper" about the sycamore. But it was not guess-work, for the record states clearly that the girth of the larger tree lacked two inches of being the complete forty-five feet. Trees along the Ohio grew to an immense size; an old Ohio River pilot affirms that in his boyhood a burned trunk of a sycamore stood on his father's farm on the Little Muskingum, into which he has frequently driven a horse, turned it about, and come out again. General Harmar found on the Ohio a button-wood tree forty-two feet in circumference, which held forty men within its trunk. On the seventh of April Dr. Walker writes: "It snowed most of the day. In the Evening our dogs caught a large He Bear, which before we could come up to shoot him had wounded a dog of mine, so that he could not Travel, and we carried him on Horseback, till he recovered." On the thirteenth the party reached "Cave Gap," which Walker named Cumberland Gap in honor of the "bloody Duke," the hero of Culloden. "Just at the foot of the Hill is a Laurel Thicket.... On the South side is a plain Indian Road. On the top of the Ridge are Laurel Trees marked with crosses, others Blazed and several Figures on them.... This Gap may be seen at a considerable distance, and there is no other, that I know of, except one about two miles to the North of it, which does not appear to be so low as the other. The Mountain on the North Side of the Gap is very Steep and Rocky, but on the South side it is not So. We called it Steep Ridge." The party crossed the Cumberland River about four miles below the present village of Barbourville, Knox County, Kentucky, on the twenty-third of April. The river was named by Walker at this time. From this spot Walker, with two companions chosen by lot--Powell and Chew--went on a tour of exploration alone, leaving the others "to provide and salt some Bear, build an house, and plant some Peach Stones and Corn." Walker and his two companions floundered about the neighboring region for five days, not getting out of the mountainous country and not finding any good land. They crossed the Cumberland again, on the third day out, about twenty miles below the first crossing-place, and then returned up the river to the main party and found that the work he had ordered to be done was completed. "The People I had left had built an House 12 by 8, clear'd and broke up some ground, & planted Corn, and Peach Stones." Thus was raised, beside the tumbling Cumberland, on the farm now owned by George M. Faulkner four miles below Barbourville, Kentucky, the first house now recorded as built by white men in the fine territory between the Cumberland Mountains and the Ohio River, now the state of Kentucky. It was not an "improver's cabin"--a log pen without roof--but a roofed house, and instituted what the English Loyal Land Company could claim to be a "settlement" in the territory which they had been granted. This was completed by the planting of corn and peach trees. The formality of this "settlement" is evinced by the fact that, two days later, the entire party moved on for further exploration, never again to return to their house or to reap their crops. It was twenty years before a house was erected in Kentucky for the permanent dwelling. From this on, Dr. Walker's journal is a long story of accidents and disappointments. One horse became lame, and "another had been bit in the Nose by a Snake." "I rub'd the wounds with Bear's oil, and gave him a drench of the same and another of the decoction of Rattle Snake root some time after." On the same day "Colby Chew and his Horse fell down the Bank. I Bled and gave him Volatile drops, & he soon recovered." On the first of May they reached Powell's River. This was named from Ambrose Powell. During the journey Dr. Walker gave the name of each of his companions to rivers he discovered; none were given his name, though a mountain range to the north of Fort Chiswell still bears the name of Walker's Mountain. On Powell's River the party this day again struck the Indian path which later became the great highway to Kentucky. Again he was on the route that would have taken him to the famous meadows below the foothills of the mountains, and again he left it as he did when he chose to explore on the south side of Cumberland Mountain, instead of crossing at Pineville and following the trail northward. He did not cross Rockcastle River. J. Stoddard Johnson says: "This was the farthest western point reached by Doctor Walker. He did not cross the main Rockcastle River, and, therefore, was never on the waters of Salt or Green rivers, as claimed by some. A day or two's travel to the west or northwest would have brought him to the fertile lands of Lincoln or Madison County, his description of which would have left no doubt of his having passed the watershed between the Rockcastle, the Salt, and the rivers to the westward."[2] Shoes formed an important item in the catalogue of necessaries for the early traveler's outfit on the first traveled ways in America. Already Walker's party, though they traveled largely by horse, had worn out the shoes with which they started, and on the eleventh of May under one of the great cliffs near Rockcastle River they set to work to make themselves new shoes out of elkskin. "When our Elk's Skin was prepared," writes Dr. Walker on the fourteenth, "we had lost every Awl that we brought out, and I made one with the Shank of an old Fishing hook, the other People made two of Horse Shoe Nails, and with these we made our Shoes and Moccosons." On the twenty-third the party was on the Kentucky River, where Walker found a sycamore which measured forty feet in circumference--almost, it will be seen, the size of the tree Washington found on the Great Kanawha--upon which he marked his initials, "T. W." On the day after, he found another sycamore thirty feet in circumference. These trees, it would naturally be inferred, marked the location of fertile soil. On the twenty-sixth the "Dogs roused a large Buck Elk, which we followed down to a Creek. He killed Ambrose Powell's Dog in the Chase, and we named the Run Tumbler's Creek, the Dog being of that Name." "31st. We crossed 2 Mountains and camped just by a Wolf's Den. They were very impudent and after they had twice been shot at, they kept howling about the Camp. It rained till Noon this day." "June ye 1st. We found the Wolf's Den and caught 4 of the young ones." It was very common for frontiersmen to invade the dens of wolves without any opposition on the part of the old wolves. Wolf cubs have often been pulled away from their mothers, who would only snarl and show their teeth. Bears, on the other hand, would fight to the death any invader of their dens. Notions which commonly prevail today, about the dangers in the primeval forests of America from wild animals, undergo a great change after a careful reading of pioneer literature. On the fourth of June "a very black Cloud appearing, we turn'd out our Horses, got tent Poles up, and were just stretching a Tent, when it began to rain and hail, and was succeeded by a violent Wind which Blew down our Tent & a great many Trees about it, several large ones within 30 yds. of the Tent. We all left the place in confusion and ran different ways for shelter. After the Storm was over, we met at the Tent, and found all safe." On the fourteenth the party had gone east as far as the dividing ridge between the two forks of the Big Sandy; but within a few days the horses were spent, and the whole party floundered onward afoot. On the twentieth they reached Flat-top Mountain, Raleigh County, West Virginia. This day Dr. Walker's horse was bitten by a snake; "... having no Bear's Oil," he wrote, "I rub'd the place with a piece of fat meat, which had the desired effect." Passing the present site of Hinton, West Virginia, the party followed about the present line of the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway. They crossed the Allegheny divide July 8, and Hot Springs the ninth. They found "Six Invalides there. The Spring Water is very Clear & warmer than new Milk, and there is a spring of cold Water within 20 feet of the Warm one. I left one of my Company this day." They reached Augusta Court House (Staunton, Virginia) on the eleventh, and Castle Hill on the sixteenth, having been four months and seven days on the journey. Walker's hard tour amounted to very little for the plain reason that he never got west of the mountains. He found no good land and his report was depressing. It remained for another brave frontiersman to go further and bring back the welcome news of large areas of splendid land in the Ohio Valley. In 1748 John Hanbury, London merchant; Thomas Lee, President of the Council of Virginia; and a number of prominent Virginians formed the Ohio Company, elsewhere mentioned, and received a large grant of land in the West. The grant was made March 18, 1749: two hundred thousand acres between the Monongahela and Great Kanawha Rivers, and later three hundred thousand acres, to be located on the waters of the lower Ohio. In 1750 this company employed Christopher Gist, a hardy, well-trained frontiersman who lived on the Yadkin in North Carolina, to explore the Ohio Valley and make a report upon the land there found. For his arduous service he was to receive one hundred and fifty pounds sterling "and such further handsome allowance as his service should deserve." His instructions read as follows: "You are to go out as soon as possible to the Westward of the great Mountains, and carry with you such a Number of Men as You think necessary, in Order to Search out and discover the Lands upon the river Ohio & other adjoining Branches of the Mississippi down as low as the great Falls thereof: You are particularly to observe the Ways & Passes thro all the Mountains you cross, & take an exact Account of the Soil, Quality & Product of the Land, and the Wideness and Deepness of the Rivers, & the several Falls belonging to them, together with the Courses & Bearings of the Rivers & Mountains as near as you conveniently can: You are also to observe what Nations of Indians inhabit there, their Strength and Numbers, who they trade with, & in what Comodities they deal. "When you find a large quantity of good, level Land, such as you think will suit the Company, You are to measure the Breadth of it, in three or four different Places, & take the Courses of the River & Mountains on which it binds in Order to judge the Quantity: You are to fix the Beginning & Bounds in such a Manner that they may be easily found again by your Description; the nearer in the Land lies the better, provided it be good & level, but we had rather go quite down the Mississippi than take mean broken Land. After finding a large Body of good level Land, you are not to stop but proceed further, as low as the Falls of the Ohio, that we may be informed of that Navigation; And You are to take an exact Account of all the large Bodies of good level Land, in the same Manner as above directed that the Company may the better judge when it will be most convenient for them to take their Land. "You are to note all the Bodies of good Land as you go along, tho there is not a sufficient Quantity for the Company's Grant, but You need not be so particular in the Mensuration of that, as in the larger Bodies of Land. "You are to draw as good a plan as you can of the Country You pass thro: You are to take an exact and particular Journal of all Your Proceedings, and make a true Report thereof to the Ohio Company." Gist was the man for the business in hand. He came from an enterprising family and was well educated. His father was one of the Commissioners for laying off the city of Baltimore. "Little is known of his early life, but the evidences he has left in his journals, his maps, plats of surveys, and correspondence indicate that he enjoyed the advantages of an education superior to that of many of his calling in those early days. His signature and manuscript are characterized by the neatness and uniformity of a copy plate, while his plats and surveys are models in their mathematical exactness and precision of drawing. To this evidence of scholarly order and professional skill he added the hardy qualities of the pioneer and backwoodsman, capable of enduring the exposure of long journeys in the most rigorous weather. In him were combined the varied talents which made him at once an accomplished surveyor, an energetic farmer who felled the forest and tilled the soil, a skilful diplomat who understood the Indian character and was influential in making treaties, a brave soldier, an upright man, trusted by the highest civil and military authorities with implicit faith."[3] The earlier portion of Gist's journey, which he began in October, 1750, is not of importance in the present monograph. He reached the Ohio River by way of the Juniata and Kiskiminitas Rivers. Crossing the Ohio he worked his way westward on the Great Trail to the "Crossing Place of the Muskingum" (Bolivar, Ohio), and from thence he traversed the Indian trail to the country of the Shawanese and Miamis. It was not until Tuesday, the twelfth of March, that Gist again crossed the Ohio, and entered what is now the state of Kentucky. His first day's experience was typical--in a land so well known for great things and strong; for on the day after crossing at the Shawanese Shannoah Town, he found two men who had "Two of the Teeth of a large Beast.... The Rib Bones of the largest of these Beasts were eleven Feet long, and the Skull Bone six Feet wide, across the Forehead, & the other Bones in Proportion; and that there were several Teeth there, some of which he called Horns, and said they were upwards of five Feet long, and as much as a Man could well carry." Gist was now in Kentucky--the land of which thousands were waiting to hear, the home of the race that was to come and conquer and settle and hold the West. Of it Gist came to know only a little, but this little was the beginning of a revelation. After crossing the Ohio, Gist journeyed over a hundred miles down the southern bank of the river, and on March eighteenth crossed "the lower Salt Lick Creek," the Licking River. Reports of Indians at the "Falls" and "the footsteps of some Indians plain on the Ground" made him desist from visiting that spot, but he took down descriptions of it. On the nineteenth he turned southward into the interior. On the twentieth he ascended Pilot Knob, near Clay City, Powell County, and writes of the view from that height from which he saw, as John Finley wrote later, "with pleasure the beautiful level of Kentucky." With but a glimpse of the good lands of Kentucky, Gist, like Walker before him, journeyed into the mountainous country to the southeast. For a month he floundered around in the desolate laurel ridges where Walker had spent so many distressing days the year before. On Red River Gist crossed Walker's route and came on homeward between Walker's outward and homeward courses. From Red River he went through Pound Gap and eastward, down what is known as Gist's or Guesse's Fork of the Clinch in Wise County, Virginia, and then upon Bluestone, a tributary of New River. On the thirteenth of May he crossed Walker's route again at Inglis Ferry, near Draper's Meadows. On the seventeenth he passed into North Carolina through Flower or Wood's Gap toward his home on the Yadkin. He reached home on the eighteenth and found that his family had removed to Roanoke, thirty-five miles eastward, because of depredations of the Indians during the winter. Gist's journey was far more successful than Walker's. He found the fine fertile valleys of the Muskingum, Scioto, and Miami Rivers north of the Ohio, and he caught a glimpse of the beautiful meadows of Kentucky. He singularly made a complete circle about the land between the Monongahela and Kanawha Rivers, where the Ohio Company's grant of land was made. As he did not approach it on any side it is probable that he knew that only rough land lay there. Had it not been for the sudden breaking out of the old French War, the Ohio Company would undoubtedly have settled on lands in the Ohio Valley according to Gist's advice. Hostilities on the frontier soon drove back the farther settlements, and rendered activities in the land Gist had discovered out of the question, either on the part of land companies or private individuals. CHAPTER III ANNALS OF THE ROAD With the close of Pontiac's Rebellion and the passing away of the war clouds which had hung so long over the West, ten thousand eyes turned longingly across the Alleghenies and Blue Ridge. War with all its horrors had yet brought something of good, for never before had the belief that a splendidly fertile empire lay to the westward taken such a hold upon the people of Virginia. Nothing more was needed but the positive assurance of large areas of good land, and a way to reach it. It was ten years after the close of Pontiac's war before both of these conditions were fulfilled. First came the definite assurance that the meadows of Kentucky were what Gist and others had reported them to be. The Proclamation of 1763, forbidding western settlement, did not forbid hunting in the West--and the great emigration which started as slow as a glacier was finally put into motion by the proof brought back to North Carolina and Virginia by the hunters (of whom mention has been made) who went over the mountains between 1763 and 1773. In 1766 Colonel James Smith, undaunted by his captivity among the Indians, hunted through the southern portion of Kentucky. In 1767 John Finley traded with the Indians in northern Kentucky, and James Harrod and Michael Stoner were in the southern portion of the country. Finally, in 1769 Daniel Boone came into the land "a second Adam in another Eden." Boone reached the edge of the beautiful Blue Grass Region and returned home in 1771 to tell of what he saw, and to bring his family "as soon as possible to live in Kentucky, which I esteemed a second paradise, at the risk of my life and fortune." In 1769 also, the party of stout hunters headed by Colonel James Knox reached Kentucky, and hunted on the Green and Lower Cumberland Rivers; they were so long absent from home that they were given the name of "The Long Hunters." These, too, brought glowing descriptions of the fine meadows of _Ken-ta-kee_. At once the forests were filled with cohorts of surveyors--the vanguard of the host under whose feet the continent was soon to tremble. These surveyors represented the various land companies and the bounty land seekers, who had a claim to the two hundred thousand acres promised the Virginian soldiers in the old French war. Scores of cabins were raised in 1774 at Harrodsburg, near Danville, on the east fork of Salt River, on Dick's River, and on Salt River. Their erection marks the beginning of the first settlement of the land one year previous to the breaking out of the war of the Revolution. These first comers found their way to Kentucky by two routes--the Warriors' Path through Cumberland Gap, and the Ohio River, which they reached either by the Kittanning Path up the Juniata or by Braddock's or Forbes's Roads. Each route was dangerous and difficult beyond description. It was a terrible road from Cumberland to Pittsburg, and the journey down the Ohio was not more inviting. When the river was high and afforded safe navigation it was as much a highway for red men as for white--and these were treacherous times. When the river was low, a thousand natural obstructions tended to daunt even the bravest boatmen--and the Virginian backwoodsmen were not educated to contend with such a dangerous stream as the Ohio, with its changing currents, treacherous eddies, and thousands of sunken trees. One frontiersman who made the river trip at an early date, cautioned those who essayed the trip against rowing their boats at night; lest the sound of the oars should prevent the watchman from hearing the "riffling" of the water about the rocks and sunken trees, on which many a boat had been wrecked with all its precious freight. The danger of river travel down such a stream appealed with tremendous force to the early pioneers, with the result that the majority chose the land route. But what an alternative! A narrow trail in the forests six hundred miles in length was the only path. It had been traversed by many even as early as 1775, but each traveler had made it worse, and the story of the hardships of the journey through "the Wilderness" would make even the bravest pause. It is a hard journey today, one which cannot be made without taxing even the strongest; what was it before the route was dotted with cities and hamlets, before the road had been widened and bridged, before the mountains had been graded and the swamps drained, before the fierce lurking enemies had been driven away? Neither Walker nor Gist traversed what became the famed Wilderness Road to Kentucky. When the Shawanese raided Draper's Meadows, near Inglis Ferry, in 1755, they took their prisoners away on the trail through Powell's Valley toward Cumberland Gap; and the rescuing party which followed them were perhaps the first white men who traveled what became the great pioneer thoroughfare to Kentucky. It was, undoubtedly, the route followed by the early hunters who passed through Cumberland Gap and found the fertile meadows of which Dr. Walker was ignorant, and of which Christopher Gist caught only a faint glimpse. Settlements sprang up slowly beyond Inglis Ferry, but by the time of Boone's return in 1771 a few families were on the upper waters of the Holston, and settlements had been made on the Watauga where Fort Watauga was soon to be built, and at Wolf Hills, now Abington. These settlements were all one hundred miles east of Cumberland Gap, and the little path thither was not yet marked for white man's use. But the brave Boone was as good as his word--and he did attempt to bring his family and five other families to Kentucky in the year 1773, over what was soon to be known as Boone's Road. This was the beginning of the great tide of immigration through Cumberland Gap, a social movement which for timeliness and ultimate success ranks as the most important in the history of the central West. This initial attempt was not a success, for the party was driven back by Indians, with loss, entirely discouraged. But from this time on, despite Dunmore's War which now broke out, the dream of western immigration could not be forgotten. But all the western movement was now put at hazard by the outbreak of this cruel, bloody war between the "Long Knives"--as the Virginians in the Monongahela country came to be called, from the sabres that hung at their loins--and the Shawanese north of the Ohio. As suggested, the preceding years had been marked by continual bloodshed. It is undoubtedly true that those Long Knives on the upper Ohio had been doing some dreadful slashing. Perhaps the provocations were as enormous as the crimes; surely the Indians to the north were the most bloodthirsty and cruel of any on the continent. At the same time it is safe to say that many of their white foes on the Ohio were inhuman marauders, whose principal occupation was that of shooting game for a living and Indians for sport. Even in the statement in Boone's autobiography there is a plain suggestion of a guilty conscience on the part of those of whom he wrote: "The settlers [in the Monongahela country], now aware that a general warfare would be commenced by the Indians, immediately sent an express to Williamsburg, the seat of government in Virginia, communicating their apprehensions and soliciting protection." How aware? Because some of the relatives of the Indian chieftain Logan had been basely murdered, while intoxicated, on Yellow Creek? The Virginian House of Burgesses was quick to answer this appeal of the western colonists, and Governor Dunmore's earnestness in arranging the campaign resulted in the short wars bearing his name. General Andrew Lewis, a hero of Braddock's defeat, was commissioned to raise an army of border settlers and march down the Great Kanawha; while Lord Dunmore went northward to Pittsburg, where, in the Monogahela country, he would recruit another army and descend the Ohio to the mouth of the Great Kanawha. Here the armies would unite to pierce the valley of the Scioto in which the hell-hound Shawanese dwelt. Lewis gathered an army of eleven hundred experienced borderers from the Watauga settlement and the Greenbriar Valley, and marched swiftly northward. But the enemy knew of his approach, and instead of joining Dunmore's army at the mouth of the Great Kanawha he met a barricaded Indian horde, equal in size to his own army, and the bloody and momentous battle of Point Pleasant was fought and won. Arriving at the Ohio, Lewis encamped on the point of land between the two rivers. Soon two hunters pursuing a deer encountered the Indian vanguard which was bearing down on the ill-placed army of whites. One hunter fell dead and the other returned with the alarming news. General Lewis, a pupil in that school on Braddock's Road, lit his pipe and ordered the assault. Two regiments advanced on the Indian line, which now ranged from river to river, completely cutting it off from retreat. Both colonels commanding were soon killed and their men began to fall back disconcerted. Reënforcements drove the redskins back to their entrenchments, and renewed confidence. But at last fighting became desperate. Among his Virginians, the brave Flemming, twice wounded, kept repeating his order, "Advance, outflank the enemy and get between them and the river." Among his desperate followers the calm voice of Cornstalk was heard all day long: "Be brave, be brave, be brave!" As in the battle of Bushy Run, where the hope of the West lay with Bouquet as it did now with Lewis, so at Point Pleasant no way of success was left, at the close of that October day, save in strategy. The white man did not learn to conquer the red until he learned to deal with him on his own terms of cunning and deceit. In desperation Lewis sent three companies up the Great Kanawha under cover of the bank to Crooked Creek. Ascending this stream with great caution, these heroes of the day rushed from its bed upon the enemy's flank, and the tide of the battle was turned. The Indians, though having suffered least, fell back across the Ohio to their villages to the northward. The proposed junction of the two white armies was achieved, but Lewis had already sufficiently awed the Shawanese, who came to Dunmore's Camp Charlotte in their valley, and gave their affirmation to the Fort Stanwix Treaty, which surrendered to the whites all the territory south of the Ohio and north of the Tennessee. In less than a year Boone went through the Gap alone to the "Falls of the Ohio" (Louisville), and returned in safety, more possessed than ever with the ambition to take his family to the El Dorado which he had discovered, and of which he spoke in the enthusiastic vein which has already been quoted. He had found the splendid lands of which Gist had guessed; he had found a straight path thither. All that was lacking was an impetus to turn a floodtide of Virginians and their neighbors into the new land. This came, too, within a year after the close of Dunmore's War--an artificial impetus in the shape of a land company, headed by a brave, enterprising man, Colonel Richard Henderson, with whom were associated eight other North Carolinians of high social standing. Richard Henderson was the son of Samuel Henderson (1700) and Elizabeth Williams (1714). He was born in Hanover County, Virginia, on the twentieth of April, 1735. His two well-known brothers, Nathaniel and Pleasant, were born in 1736 and 1756, respectively. The sons were worthy of their good Scotch-Welsh ancestry. When Richard was about ten years of age his father moved from their home in Virginia to Granville County in the province of North Carolina. Here the elder Henderson was afterward appointed sheriff of his county, and the young Richard was soon able to assist his father by doing the business "of the sherriffltry."[4] After this practical introduction to the science of law young Richard turned to the theoretical study, and read law for a twelve-month with his cousin, Judge Williams. In that day a prospective barrister was compelled to get a certificate from the chief-justice of his colony; this he presented to the governor, who, being satisfied as to the candidate's acquirements, gave him a license. Richard Henderson's self-confidence and genuine talent are exhibited by the story which his brother records, of his attempting to obtain a license to practice law after the brief period of study mentioned above. Procuring a certificate from the chief-justice he presented himself to the governor of North Carolina as a candidate for a license. "How long have you read law and what books have you studied?" asked the governor. "Twelve months," replied young Henderson, naming the books he had used. The governor replied brusquely that it was wholly unnecessary for him to take the time to give an examination, as no one could in that length of time and with such books become proficient. "Sir," replied Richard Henderson not a whit dismayed, "I am an applicant for examination; it is your duty to examine me and if found worthy, to grant me a license; if otherwise, to refuse one." It can well be imagined how quickly the governor bristled up and how mercilessly he would "quiz" a lad who informed him in such a spirited manner what the duties of his office required of him. But the running fire of questions did not daunt the candidate more than had the governor's indifference--and the young Richard received at the close of the interview, not only a license, but what meant more, many encomiums from his governor. Henderson soon acquired a good practice and became a judge on the bench of the Superior Court. In 1774 the conflict with the British agent in North Carolina was precipitated, and the colonial government was abolished. It was at this time that Judge Henderson became interested in the desire of the Cherokee Indians to sell land. Henderson's plan was to purchase from the Cherokees the great territory lying south of the Kentucky River--one-half the present state of Kentucky. This was quite against the laws and traditions of the only colony which had any valid claim to the territory--Virginia, his native state--but this seemed to matter not to Henderson and his associates; these were John Williams, under whom Henderson had studied law, Leonard Henley Bullock, James Hogg, Nathaniel Thomas, David Hart, John Luttrell, and William Johnstone. At the very beginning of the century Virginia had passed an act forbidding the private purchase of lands from the Indians. The founders of Transylvania evidently doubted Virginia's sweeping claims to the entire interior of the continent--at any rate land companies seemed to be the only means by which the vast wildernesses beyond the mountains could be opened up and settled. Though Virginia soon proved the invalidity of the purchase, she at the same time was frank enough to admit that Henderson's Company had done a good work in giving an impetus to westward expansion, by appropriately recompensing the North Carolinians for their expenditure and labors. Henderson's purchase was gigantic in its proportions, embracing nearly twenty million acres. The consideration was ten thousand pounds sterling. The purchase was made at the advance settlement at Watauga, March 17, 1775--only a month before the outbreak at Lexington and Concord. Henderson employed Boone to assist in the transaction, and immediately after engaged him to mark out the road through Cumberland Gap to a settlement in Kentucky, where the Transylvania Company (as Henderson strangely named his organization) was to begin the occupation of the empire it had nominally secured. Of this Boone writes modestly that he was "solicited by a number of North Carolina gentlemen, that were about purchasing the lands lying on the south side of the Kentucky River, from the Cherokee Indians, to attend their treaty at Watauga, in March, 1775, to negotiate with them, and mention the boundaries of the purchase. This I accepted, and at the request of the same gentlemen undertook to mark out a road in the best passage from the settlement through the wilderness to Kentucky, with such assistance as I thought necessary to employ for such an important undertaking." As in the case of Nemacolin's Path across the Alleghenies, so now a second westward Indian pathway was blazed for white man's use; and if the Transylvania Colony can in no other respect be said to have been successful, it certainly conferred an inestimable good upon Virginia and North Carolina and the nation, when it marked out through the hand of Boone the Wilderness Road to Kentucky. From Watauga the path led up to the Gap, where it joined the great Warrior's Path which came down through Kentucky from the Scioto Valley in Ohio. For about fifty miles Boone's Road followed this path northward, whereupon, leaving the Indian trail, Boone bore to the west, marking his course on a buffalo trace toward "Hazel Patch" to the Rockcastle. The buffalo path was followed onward up Roundstone Creek, through "Boone's Gap" in Big Hill; through the present county of Madison, Kentucky; and down little Otter Creek to the Kentucky River. Here Boonesborough was built for the Transylvania Colony, which became the temporary center of Kentucky. Felix Walker, one of Boone's road-making party, made an autobiographical statement about 1824 of this brave attempt to cut a white man's path into Kentucky. From this statement these quotations from De Bow's _Review_ (1854) are pertinent: "The treaty (at Watauga) being concluded and the purchase made, we proceeded on our journey to meet Col. Daniel Boon, with other adventurers, bound to the same country; accordingly we met and rendezvoused at the Long Island on Holsteen river, united our small force with Colonel Boon and his associates, his brother, Squire Boon, and Col. Richard Callaway, of Virginia. Our company, when united, amounted to 30 persons. We then, by general consent, put ourselves under the management and control of Col. Boon, who was to be our pilot and conductor through the wilderness, to the promised land.... About the 10th of March we put off from the Long Island, marked out our track with our hatchets, crossed Clinch and Powell's river, over Cumberland mountain, and crossed Cumberland river--came to a watercourse called by Col.--Rockcastle river; killed a fine bear on our way, camped all night and had an excellent supper. On leaving that river, we had to encounter and cut our way through a country of about twenty miles, entirely covered with dead brash, which we found a difficult and laborious task. At the end of which we arrived at the commencement of a cane country, traveled about thirty miles through thick cane and reed, and as the cane ceased, we began to discover the pleasing and rapturous appearance of the plains of Kentucky. A new sky and strange earth seemed to be presented to our view.... A sad reverse overtook us two days after, on our way to Kentucky river. On the 25th of March, 1775, we were fired on by the Indians, in our camp asleep, about an hour before day. Capt. Twetty was shot in both knees, and died the third day after. A black man, his body servant, killed dead; myself badly wounded; our company dispersed. So fatal and tragical an event cast a deep gloom of melancholy over all our prospects, and high calculations of long life and happy days in our newly-discovered country were prostrated; hope vanished from the most of us, and left us suspended in the tumult of uncertainty and conjecture. Col. Boon, and a few others, appeared to possess firmness and fortitude. In our calamitous situation, a circumstance occurred one morning after our misfortunes that proved the courage and stability of our few remaining men (for some had gone back). One of our men, who had run off at the fire of the Indians on our camp, was discovered peeping from behind a tree, by a black woman belonging to Colonel Callaway, while gathering some wood. She ran in and gave the alarm of Indians. Colonel Boon instantly caught his rifle, ordered the men to form, take trees, and give battle, and not to run till they saw him fall. They formed agreeably to his directions, and I believe they would have fought with equal bravery to any Spartan band ever brought to the field of action, when the man behind the tree announced his name and came in.... At length I was carried in a litter between two horses, twelve miles, to Kentucky river, where we made a station, and called it Boonsborough, situated in a plain on the south side of the river, wherein was a lick with two sulphur springs strongly impregnated.... In the sequel and conclusion of my narrative I must not neglect to give honor to whom honor is due. Colonel Boone conducted the company under his care through the wilderness, with great propriety, intrepidity and courage; and was I to enter an exception to any part of his conduct, it would be on the ground that he appeared void of fear and of consequence--too little caution for the enterprise. But let me, with feeling recollection and lasting gratitude, ever remember the unremitting kindness, sympathy, and attention paid to me by Col. Boone in my distress. He was my father, my physician, and friend; he attended me as his child, cured my wounds by the use of medicines from the woods, nursed me with paternal affection until I recovered, without the expectation of reward." [Illustration: PLAT OF BOONESBOROUGH [_Based on a copy of the original in possession of John Stevens_]] It was altogether fitting that among the very first to follow Boone's blazed road to Kentucky we should find Judge Henderson and his fellow-promoters of the Transylvania Company. Nothing shows more plainly the genuineness of their purposes and the heroism of their spirit. They were not foisting on their countrymen a hazardous scheme by which they should profit, while others bore the brunt of the toil and danger. True, Henderson had, purposely or unwittingly, ignored the technicality of Virginia's claim to the possession of the West; but, with an honesty unparalleled at that day in such matters, they met the representatives of the real owners of the lands they desired, and had purchased them and paid down the purchase money. There is almost no doubt that they could have satisfied Virginia's technicalities at a less cost; and then have gone, as so many have done, to fortify their possessions and "fight it out" with the genuine owners of the soil, who would eventually get nothing and lose everything. This Judge Henderson did not do; nor did he sit down comfortably at home and send others to turn his holdings into money. He arose and started--amid dangers that shall not be mentioned lest they be minimized--for far-away Kentucky, on the little roadway Boone was opening. Henderson's party left Fort Watauga March 20, 1775, and arrived at the infant Boonesborough April 20. The leader of the party fortunately kept a record, though meager, of this notable journey. This precious yellow diary is preserved by the Wisconsin Historical Society. It reads: "Monday March 20th 1775 Having finished my Treaty with the Indians, at Wataugah Sett out for Louisa & arrived at John Shelbeys in the Evening--Tuesday the 21^{st} went to M^r John Seviers in Company of Col^o Williams & Col^o Hart & staid that day--Wednesday the 22^d--Mess^{rs} Williams & Hart set off Home & I staid with M^r Sevier Thursday 23^d Still at M^r Seviers--N. B. because our Horses were lost tho. not uneasiy as Mess^{rs} Hart and Letteral made a poor Hand of Traveling-- Friday 24^{th} Sett of in pursuit of M^r Hart & Letteral. Overtook them Both & Lodged at Capt Bledsoe's-- Satterday the 25^{th}. came to M^{rs} Callaway's. Sunday 26^{th} staid there. Monday 27^{th} Emplied in storeing away Goods. Tuesday 28^{th}--Sett off for Louisa Wednesday Continued Journey. N. B. M^r Luttrel not come up. Thursday 30^{th} Arrived at Cap^t Martins in Powels Valey-- Fryday 31^{st} Imploy'd in makeing house to secure the Waggons as we could not possibly clear the road any further. N. B. My Waggon & Sam^l Hendersons came up in A.M. W. Luttrel in the Evin^g Satterday the 1 day of April--Imploy'd in making ready for packing &^c M^r Hart came up-- Sunday 2^d Continued at Capt^t Martins Waiting for the Waggon Monday the 3^d Still continued Waiting for the Waggon-- Tuesday the 4^{th}--Still continued Waiting for the Waggon. The same evening the Waggon arrived--tho so Late we cood Not proceed-- Wednesday 5^{th} Started off with our pack Horses ab^t. 3 oClock Traveld about 5 Miles to a Large Spring. The Same evening M^r Litteral went out a Hunting & has Not yet returned. [Next. Both Henderson and Sa^l Durning went in pursuit of him--_erased in diary_.] The same evening Sam^l. Hendersons & John Farriers Horses took a Scare with there packs Run away with Sams Saddle & Briddle. Farrars Saddle Baggs other things Damaged. Next Morning Sam^l Henderson & Farrar went in pursuit of there Horses. Saddle &c--the same Evening John Farrar returnd to our Camp with News that they had found all there goods. But two of there horses were Missing Thursday 6 sent John Farrar Back with provission to meet & Assist Sam Henderson with orders to stay with him, till they overtook Us, as we promis'd to wait for them at Cumberland Gap Fryday the 7^{th}--Sam^l. Henderson & John Farrar Returned to us with there Horses Packs & every thing safe. we having waited at our Camp 10 miles below Martins for them [Thursday the 6^{th}--_erased_]. Traveled about Six Miles to the last Settlement in Powels Valey where we were obliged to stop and kill a Beef wait for Sam Henderson & [N. B?] this was done whilst waiting for Sam^l Henderson as afo[re mentioned] Fryday the 7^{th}. About Brake of Day begun to snow, About 11 ^oClock received a letter from M^r Littereals camp that were five persons kill'd on the road to the Cantuckee by Indians--Cap^t Hart, uppon the receipt of this News Retreated back with his Company & determin'd to Settle in the Valley to make Corn for the Cantuckey People The same Day Received a Letter from Da^n. Boone. that his Company was fired uppon by Indians Kill'd Two of his men--tho he kept the ground & saved the Baggage &c. Satterday the 8^{th}. Started ab^t. 10 ^oClock Cross'd Cumberland Gap about 4 Miles Met about 40 persons Returning from the Cantuckey. on Acc^t. of the Late Murder by the Indians could prevail one one [_sic_] only to return. Mem^o Several Virginians who were with us returned. Sunday the 9^{th}. Arrived at Cumberland River where we met Rob^t Wills & his son returning &c Monday 10^{th}. Dispach^d Cap^t Cocke to the Cantukey to Inform Cap^t Boone that we were on the road Continued at Camp that day on Acc^t of the Badness of the Wether Tuesday 11^{th} started from Cumberl^d. made a very good days Travel of Near 20 Mile Kill'd Beef &c. Wednesday the 12 Travel'd about 5 Miles, prevented going any further by the rains & high water at Richland Creek-- Thursday the 13^{th}. Last Night arrived men [of] our Camp Stewart & ten other men, campt within half mile of us on there Return from Lousia Campt. that Night at Larrel River--they had well nigh turnd three or four of our Virg & us back. Fryday the 14. Traveld about 12 Miles to a Camp &c Satterday the 15^{th}. Traveld about 18 Miles & campt on the North side of Rock Castle River.--this River's a fork of Cumberland--lost an ax this morn at Camp. Sunday the 16^{th}. About 12 oClock Met Jemes McAfee with 18 other persons Returning from Cantuckey Traveld about 22 Miles and Campt on the head of Dicks River where Luna from Mc.Afees camp came to us resolved to go to the Louisa-- Monday 17^{th} Started about 3 oClock prevented by Rain. Traveld 7 Miles Tuesday the 18^{th}. Traveld about 16 Miles, met Michael Stoner with Pack Horses to assist us. Campt that Night in the Edge of the Rich Land--Stoner brought us Excellent Beef in plenty Wednesday 19^{th}. Traveld about 16 Miles Campt on Oter Creek--a good mill place Thursday the 20^{th}. Arrived at Fort Boone. on the Mouth of Oter Creek Cantukey River--where we were Saluted by a running fire of about 25 Guns; all that was then at Fort--The men appeared in high Spirits & much rejoiced on our arrival"[5] Colonel Henderson (as the leader of the Transylvania Colony is best known) arrived at Boonesborough one day after the outbreak of the Revolutionary struggle at Lexington and Concord, and on his own fortieth birthday. A clearer glimpse of the fortunes of this company of pilgrims who followed in Boone's wake is preserved for us in the journal kept by William Calk, who was with Hart's party that Henderson met at Martin's cabin on the second of April. The original manuscript is in the possession of the family of the late Mr. Thomas Calk, near Mt. Sterling, Kentucky. It reads: "1775 Mond. 13th--I set out from prince wm. to travel to caintuck on tuesday Night our company all got together at Mr. Prises on rapadan which was Abraham hanks[6] philip Drake Eaneck Smith Robert Whitledge & my Self, thear Abrams Dogs leg got Broke By Drake's Dog. Wedns. 15th,--We started early from prises made a good Days travel & lodge this night at Mr. Cars on North fork James River. Thurs. 16th,--We started early it raind Chief part of the Day Snowd in the Eavening very hard & was very Coald we traveld all Day & got to Mr. Blacks at the foot of the Blue Ridge. fryd. 17th--We start early cross the Ridge the wind Blows very hard & cold and lodge at James loyls. Satrd. 18th--We git this Day to William Andersons at Crows ferrey & there we Stay till monday morning. Mond. 20th--We start early cross the fery and lodge this night at Wm. Adamses on the head of Catauby. tuesd. 21st--We start early and git over pepers ferey on new river & lodge at pepers this night. Wedns 22d--We start early and git to foart Chissel whear we git some good loaf Bread & good whiskey. thurs 23d--we start early & travel till a good while in the Night and git to major Cammels on holston River. fryday 24th--we start early & turn out of the wagon Road to go across the mountains to go by Danil Smiths we loose Driver Come to a turabel mountain that tired us all almost to death to git over it & we lodge this night on the Lawrel fork of holston under agrait mountain & Roast a fine fat turkey for our suppers & Eat it without aney Bread. Satrd 25th--We start early travel over Some more very Bad mountains one that is caled Clinch mountain & we git this night to Danil Smiths on Clinch and there we staid till thursday morning on tuesday night & wednesday morning it snowd Very hard and was very Coald & we hunted a good deal there while we staid in Rough mountains and kild three deer & one turkey Eanock Abram & I got lost tuesday night & it a snowing & Should a lain in the mountains had not I a had a pocket compas By which I got in a littel in the night and fired guns and they heard them and caim in By the Repoart. thursd 30th--We set out again & went down to Elk gardin and there suplid our Selves With Seed Corn & irish tators then we went on a littel way I turnd my hors to drive afore me & he got scard ran away threw Down the Saddel Bags and broke three of our powder goards & Abrams beast Burst open a walet of corn & lost a good Deal & made a turrabel flustration amongst the Reast of the Horses Drakes mair run against a sapling & noct it down we cacht them all agin & went on & lodgd at John Duncans. fryd 31st--We Suployd our Selves at Dunkans with a 108 pounds of Bacon & went on again to Brileys mill & suployd our Selves with meal & lodged this night on Clinch By a large cainbraike & cuckt our Suppers. April Satrd first--this morning there is ice at our camp half inch thick we start early & travel this Day along a verey Bad hilley way cross one creek whear the horses almost got mired some fell in & all wet their loads we cross Clinch River & travell till late in the Night & camp on Cove creek having two men with us that wair pilates. Sund 2d--this morning is a very hard frost we Start early travel over powels mountain and camp in the head of Powels valey whear there is verey good food. mond 3d We Start early travel down the valey cross powels River go some throu the woods without aney track cross some Bad hils git into hendersons Road camp on a creek in powels valey. Tuesday 4th Raney, we Start about 10 oclock and git down to Capt. martins in the valey where we over take Coln henderson & his Companey Bound for Caintuck & there we camp this Night there they were Broiling & Eating Beef without Bread. Wednesday 5th Breaks away fair & we go on down the valey & camp on indian Creek we had this creek to cross maney times & very Bad Banks Abrams saddel turnd & the load all fell in we go out this Eavening & kill two Deer. thurs 6th this morning is ahard frost & we wait at Camp for Coln henderson & companey to come up they come up about 12 o'clock & we join with them and camp there Still this night waiting for some part of the companey that had thier horses ran away with their packs. fryday 7th this morning is a very hard snowey morning we still continue at Camp Being in number about 40 men & Some neagros this Eaven--Comes a letter from Capt. Boone at caintuck of the indians doing mischief and some turns back. 1775 Satrd April 8th--We all pact up and started crost Cumberland gap about one oclock this Day We Met a great maney peopel turned Back for fear of the indians but our Companey goes on Still with good courage we come to a very ugly Creek with steep Banks & have it to cross several times on this Creek we camp this night. Sunday 9th--this morning we wait at camp for the cattle to Be drove up to kill a Beef tis late Before they come & peopel makes out alittel snack & agree to go on till Night we git to Cumberland River & there we camp meet 2 more men turn Back. Monday 10th--this is alowry morning & very like for Rain & we keep at Camp this day and some goes out ahunting. I & two more goes up avery large mountain Near the tops we saw the track of two indians & whear they had lain unter some Rocks some of the companey went over the River a bofelo hunting but found None at night Capt. hart comes up with his packs & there they hide some of thier lead to lighten thier packs that they may travel faster. tuesday 11th--this is a very loury morning & like for Rain But we all agree to start Early we cross Cumberland River & travel Down it about 10 miles through Some turrabel cainbrakes as we went down abrams mair ran into the River with Her load & Swam over he folowd her & got on her & made her Swim Back agin it is a very raney Eavening we take up Camp near Richland Creek they kill a beef Mr. Drake Bakes Bread without washing his hands we Keep Sentry this Night for fear of the indians. Wednesday 12th this is a Raney morning But we pack up & go on we come to Richland Creek it is high we toat our packs over on a tree & swim our horses over & there we meet another Companey going Back they tell such News Abram & Drake is afraid to go aney further there we camp this night. thursday 13th this morning the weather Seems to breake & Be fair Abram & Drake turn Back we go on & git to loral River we come to a creek Before wheare we are able to unload & toate our packs over on a log this day we meet about 20 more turning Back we are obligd to toat our packs over loral river & swim our horses one hors Ran in with his pack & lost it in the River & they got it agin. fryday 14th--this is a clear morning with a smart frost we go on & have a very mire Road and camp this Night on a creek of loral River and are surprisd at camp By a wolf. Satterday 15th clear with a Small frost we start early we meet Some men that turns & goes With us we travel this Day through the plais caled the Bressh & crofs Rockcass River & camp ther this Night & have fine food for our horses. Sunday 16th--cloudy & warm we start early & go on about 2 mile down the River and then turn up a creek that we crost about 50 times Some very bad foards with a great Deal of very good land on it in the Eavening we git over to the waters of Caintuck & go a littel Down the creek & there we camp keep sentry the forepart of the night it Rains very har all night. monday 17th this is a very rany morning But breaks about a 11 oclock & we go on and camp this Night in several companeys on Some of the creeks of Caintuck. tuesday 18th fair & cool and we go on about 10 oclock we meet 4 men from Boons camp that caim to cunduck us on we camp this night just on the Begining of the good land near the Blue lick they kill 2 bofelos this Eavening. Wednesd 19th Smart frost this morning they kill 3 bofelos about 11 oclock we come to where the indians fired on Boons company & kild 2 men & a dog & wounded one man in the thigh we campt this night on oter creek. thursday 20th this morning is clear and cool. We start early and git Down to caintuck to Boons foart about 12 o'clock wheare we stop they come out to meet us & welcom us in with a voley of guns. fryday 21st warm this Day they Begin laying off lots in the town and prearing for peopel to go to worck to make corn. Satterday 22nd they finish laying out lots this Eavening I went a-fishing and cactht 3 cats they meet in the night to Draw for choise of lots but refer it till morning 1775 Sunday April 23d this morning the peopel meets & Draws for chois of loots this is a very warm day. monday 24th We all view our loots & Some Dont like them about 12 oclock the Combses come to town & Next morning they make them a bark canew and Set off down the River to meet their Companey. tuesday 25th in the eavening we git us a plaise at the mouth of the creek & begin clearing. Wednesday 26th We Begin Building us a house & a plaise of Defense to Keep the indians off this day we Begin to live without Bread. thursday 27th Raney all Day But We Still keep about our house. Satterday 29th--We git our house kivered with Bark & move our things into it at Night and Begin houskeeping Eanock Smith Robert Whitledge & my Self. May, Monday first I go out to look for my mair and saw 4 bufelos the Being the first that I Saw & I shot one of them but did not git him when I caim Home Eanock & Robin had found the mair & was gone out a hunting & did Not come in for--Days and kild only one Deer. tuesday 2d I went out in the morning & kild a turkey and come in & got some on for my breakfast and then went & Sot in to clearing for Corn."[7] The personal statement of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas is of interest in this connection. She was one of Col. Calloway's company that followed Henderson in September 1775. This statement is preserved in the library of the Wisconsin Historical Society and reads: "I was born in Virginia on the 4^{th} day of Sept 1764 In Rockbridge county near the Natural Bridge my father moved on the North Fork of Holston within 4 or 5 miles of Abbingdon & remained there two or three years and in March 1775 we moved down Holstien near the Big Island, [Long Island] where we remained until Sept 1775 when Col Calloway and his company came along going to Kentucky, when my father William Pogue packed up and came with him with our family, Col Boone and with his wife and family and Col Hugh Mcgary, Thomas Denton and Richard Hogan were on the road before us and when we arrived at Boonesborough the latter part of September There was only fur [four] or six cabbins built along on the Bank of the Kentucky river but not picketted in being open on two sides."[8] This was the great pathway of early pioneers to Kentucky, and the course of the marvelous floodtide of immigration which swept over the mountains in the last three decades of the eighteenth century. [Illustration: FILSON'S MAP OF KENTUCKY (1784)] The itineraries of early travelers describe the Wilderness Road in definite terms. One of the earliest is that given by John Filson, whose history of Kentucky was published as early as 1784. It described the route from Philadelphia to Louisville (eight hundred and twenty-six miles), as follows: Miles From Philadelphia to Lancaster, 66 To Wright's on the Susquehanna, 10 To Yorktown, 12 To Abbotstown, 15 To Hunterstown, 10 To mountain at Black's Gap, 3 To other side of the mountain, 7 To Stone-house Tavern, 25 To Wadkin's Ferry on Potomac 14 To Martinsburg, 13 To Winchester, 13 To Newtown, 8 To Stoverstown, 10 To Woodstock, 12 To Shenandoah River, 15 To North Branch Shenandoah, 29 To Staunton, 15 To North Fork James River, 37 To Botetourt C. H., 12 To Woods on Catawba River 21 To Paterson.s. on Roanoke, 9 To Alleghany Mountain, 8 To New River, 12 To Forks of Road, 16 To Fort Chissel, 12 To Stone Mill, 11 To Boyds, 8 To Head of Holstein, 5 To Washington C. H., 45 To the Block-house, 35 To Powell Mountain, 33 To Walden's Ridge, 3 To Valley Station, 4 To Martin's Cabin, 25 To Cumberland Mountain, 20 To Cumberland River, 13 To Flat Lick, 9 To Stinking Creek, 2 To Richland Creek, 7 Down Richland Creek, 8 To Racoon Spring, 6 To Laurel River, 2 To Hazel Patch, 15 To Rockcastle River, 10 To English Station, 25 To Col. Edward's Crab Orchard, 3 To Whitley's Station, 5 To Logan's Station, 5 To Clark's Station, 7 To Crow's Station, 4 To Harrod's Station, 3 To Harlands', 4 To Harbisons, 10 To Bardstown, 25 To Salt Works, 25 To Falls of the Ohio, 20 --- 826 Mr. Speed preserves for us the itinerary with "observations and occurrences" of William Brown, the father of Judge Alfred M. Brown, of Elizabeth town, Kentucky. "It is contained in a small manuscript book," writes Mr. Speed, "which has been preserved in the family. It is especially interesting from the fact that immediately upon his arrival in Kentucky, by the journey of which he made a complete record, the Battle of Blue Licks occurred. He aided in burying the slain, among whom was his own brother, James Brown." The itinerary and "observations and occurrences" follow:[9] (1782) "Hanover to Richmond, Henrico Co., 18 To Widow Simpson's, Chesterford, 14 To Powhatan Co. House, 16 To Joseph Thompson's at the forks of the road, 8 To Long's Ordinary, Buckingham, 9 To Hoolen's on Willis Creek, 8 To Mrs. Sanders, Cumberland, 3 To Widow Thompson's passing Hood's and Swiney's, 27 To Captain Hunter's, 5 To Thompson's on the Long Mo., Campbell, 5 To Dupriest, 6 To New London, 10 To Liberty Town, 16 To Yearley's, at Goose Creek, Bedford, 12 To M. Loland, at the Blue Ridge Gap, 6 To Big Flat Lick, 10 To Fort Lewis, Botetourt, 12 To Hans' Meadows, 20 To English's Ferry, New River, 12 To Fort Chiswell, 30 To Atkins' Ordinary, 19 To Mid Fork Holstein, -- To Cross White's, Montgomery, 3 To Col. Arthur Campbell's, 3 To 7-mile Ford of Holstein, 6 To Maj. Dysart's Mill, 12 To Washington Co. House, 10 To Head of Reedy Creek, Sullivan Co., North Carolina, 20 To Block House, 13 To North Fork Holstein, 2 To Moccasin Gap, 5 To Clinch River, 11 To Ford of Stock Creek, 2 To Little Flat Lick, 5 To North Fork of Clinch, 1 To Powell's Mountain, 1 To Wallan Ridge, 5 To Valley Station, 5 To Powell's River, 2 To Glade Spring, 4 To Martin's Station, 19 To Big Spring, 12 To Cumberland Mountain Gap, 8 To Yellow Creek, 2 To Cumberland River, 13 To Big Flat Lick, 9 To Little Richland Creek, 10 To Big Richland Creek, 1 To Robinson Creek, 10 To Raccoon Spring, 1 To Laurel River, 2 To Little Laurel River, 5 To Raccoon Creek, 8 To Hazel Patch, 4 To Rockcastle Creek, 6 To Rockcastle River, 7 To Scaggs' Creek, 5 To Head of Dicks River, 15 To English Station, 8 To Crab Orchard, 3 To Logan's Old Fort, 11 To Doehurty's Station, 8 To Harrod's Station, 6 To Harrodsburg, 6 From Hanover to Harrodsburg is 555 miles. _Observations and Occurrences_: Set Out from Hanover Monday, 27th May, 1782; arrived at the Block-house about the first week in July. The road from Hanover to this place is generally very good; crossing the Blue Ridge is not bad; there is not more than a small hill with some winding to go over. Neither is the Alleghany Mountain by any means difficult at this gap. There are one or two high hills about New River and Fort Chiswell. The ford of New River is rather bad; therefore we thought it advisable to cross in the ferry-boat. This is generally a good-watered road as far as the Block-house. We waited hereabouts near two weeks for company, and then set out for the wilderness with twelve men and ten guns, this being Thursday, 18th July. The road from this until you get over Wallen's Ridge generally is bad, some part very much so, particularly about Stock Creek and Stock Creek Ridge. It is a very mountainous country hereabout, but there is some fine land in the bottoms, near the watercourses, in narrow slips. It will be but a thin settled country whenever it is settled. The fords of Holstein and Clinch are both good in dry weather, but in a rainy season you are often obliged to raft over. From them along down Powell's Valley until you get to Cumberland Gap is pretty good; this valley is formed by Cumberland Mountain on the northwest, and Powell Mountain on the southeast, and appears to bear from northeast southwestwardly, and is, I suppose, about one hundred miles in length, and from ten to twelve miles in breadth. The land generally is good, and is an exceeding well-watered country, as well as the country on Holstein River, abounding with fine springs and little brooks. For about fifty miles, as you travel along the valley, Cumberland Mountain appears to be a very high ridge of white rocks, inaccessible in most places to either man or beast, and affords a wild, romantic prospect. The way through the gap is not very difficult, but from its situation travelers may be attacked in some places, crossing the mountain, by the enemy to a very great disadvantage. From thence until you pass Rockcastle River there is very little good road; this tract of country is very mountainous, and badly watered along the trace, especially for springs. There is some good land on the water-courses, and just on this side Cumberland River appears to be a good tract, and within a few years I expect to have a settlement on it. Some parts of the road are very miry in rainy weather. The fords of Cumberland and Rockcastle are both good unless the waters be too high; after you cross Rockcastle there are a few high hills, and the rest of the way tolerable good; the land appears to be rather weak, chiefly timbered with oak, etc. The first of the Kentucky waters you touch upon is the head of Dick's River, just eight miles from English's. Here we arrived Thursday, 25th inst., which is just seven days since we started from the Block-house. Monday, 29th inst., I got to Harrodsburg, and saw brother James. The next day we parted, as he was about setting off on a journey to Cumberland. On Monday, August 19th, Colonel John Todd, with a party of one hundred and eighty-two of our men, attacked a body of Indians, supposed to number six or seven hundred, at the Blue Lick, and was defeated, with the loss of sixty-five persons missing and slain. _Officers lost_: Colonels--John Todd and Stephen Trigg; Majors--Edward Bulger and Silas Harlan; Captains--W. McBride, John Gordon, Jos. Kincaid, and Clough Overton; Lieutenants--W. Givens, and John Kennedy; Ensign--John McMurtry. In this action brother James fell. On Saturday 24th inst., Colonel Logan, with four hundred and seventy men, went on the battle-ground and buried the slain; found on the field, slain, forty-three men, missing, twenty-two, in all sixty-five. I traveled but little about the country. From English's to Harrodsburg was the farthest west, and from Logan's Fort to the Blue Lick the farthest north. Thus far the land was generally good--except near and about the Lick it was very poor and badly timbered--generally badly watered, but pretty well timbered. At Richmond Ford, on the Kentucky River, the bank a little below the ford appears to be largely upward of a hundred feet perpendicular of rock. On my return to Hanover I set off from John Craigs' Monday, 23d September, 1782; left English's Tuesday, 1 o'clock, arrived at the Block-house the Monday evening following, and kept on the same route downward chiefly that I traveled out. Nothing material occurred to me. Got to Hanover sometime about the last of October the same year." Thomas Speed's grandfather gives the following itinerary from "Charlotte Court-House to Kentucky" under date of 1790: Miles "From Charlotte Court-House to Campbell Court-House, 41 To New London, 13 To Colonel James Callaway's, 3 To Liberty, 13 To Colonel Flemming's, 28 To Big Lick, 2 To Mrs. Kent's, 20 To English's Ferry, 20 To Carter's, 13 To Fort Chissel, 12 To the Stone-mill, 11 To Adkins', 16 To Russell Place, 16 To Greenaway's, 14 To Washington Court-House, 6 To the Block-house, 35 To Farriss's, 5 To Clinch River, 12 To Scott's Station, 12 To Cox's at Powell River, 10 To Martin's Station, 2 To--[manuscript defaced] To Cumberland Mountain 3 To Cumberland River, 15 To Flat Lick, 9 To Stinking Creek, 2 To Richland Creek, 7 To Raccoon Spring, 14 To Laurel River, 2 To Hazel Patch, 15 To Rockcastle, 10 To--[manuscript defaced]." The foregoing itineraries afford us some conception of the settlements and "improvements" that sprang up along the winding thoroughfare from Virginia to Kentucky. The writer has sought with some care to know more of these--of the modes of travel, the entertainment which was afforded along the road to men and beasts, and the social relation of the greater settlements in Virginia and Kentucky to this thin line of human lives across the continent. Very little information has been secured. It is plain that the great immigration to Kentucky would have been out of the question had there been no means of succor and assistance along the road. There were many who gained their livelihood as pioneer innkeepers and provisioned along Boone's Road. Among the very few of these of whom any record is left, Captain Joseph Martin is perhaps the most prominent and most worthy of remembrance. Martin's "cabin" or "station," as it is variously termed, occupied a strategic point in far-famed Powell's Valley, one hundred and eighty miles west of Inglis Ferry, twenty miles east of Cumberland Gap and about one hundred and thirty miles southeast of Crab Orchard and Boonesborough. Captain Martin was Virginia Agent for Indian affairs, and was the most prominent man in the scattered settlements in Powell's Valley, where he was living at the time of the founding of Boonesborough. Later he made his headquarters at Long Island in North Carolina. It is plain from Colonel Henderson's journal that wagons could proceed along Boone's Road in 1775 no further than Martin's cabin. Here everything was transferred to the packhorses. Several letters from Colonel Henderson to Captain Martin, preserved by the Wisconsin Historical Society, give us a glimpse of silent Powell's Valley. One of them reads: "Boonesborough 12^{th} June 1775 Dear Sir: M^r Ralph Williams, David Burnay, and William Mellar will apply to you for salt and other things which we left with you and was sent for us since we came away--Please to deliver to them, or those they may employ what they ask for, and take a receipt--Also write me a few lines informing me, what you have sent &c by hem & by whom--I long much to hear from you, pray write me at Large, how the matter goes with you in the valey, as well as what passes in Virginia--If the pack-horsemen should want any thing towards securing my books from Damage pack-saddles, provisions, or any thing which you see is necessary; please to let them have it on our acc^t.--All things goes well hitherto with us, I hope the[y] do with you would have sent your Mares but am afraid they are not done horsing They will be safely brought by my brother in a few weeks I am D^r Sir your Hble Serv^t Rich^d. Henderson M^r Joseph Martin in the Valley"[10] On July 20 he wrote again: "Am sorry to hear that the People in the valey are distressed for provisions and ammunition have given some directions to my brother to assist you a little with Powder. Standly, I suppose has before now delivered your Inglish mare, and the other you'l receive by my brother--when we meet will render an acc^t. for my behaviour in Keeping them so long--We did not forget you at the time of making Laws, your part of the Country is too remote from ours to attend our Convention you must have Laws made by an Assembly of your own, I have prepared a plan which I hope you'l approve but more of that when we meet which I hope will be soon, tho 'til Col. Boone comes cant say when--Am extreamly sorry for the affair with the Indians on the 23^d of last month. I wish it may not have a bad effect, but will use my endeavors to find out who they were & have the matter settled--your spirited conduct gives me great Pleasure--Keep your men in heart if possible, now is our time, the Indians must not drive us--depend upon it that the Chief men and warriors of the Cherokees will not countenance what there men attempted and will punish them--Pray my Dear Sir dont let any person settle Lower down the valey I am affraid they are now too low & must come away I did not want any person to settle yet below Cumberland gap--My Brother will [tell] you of the news of these parts--in haste D^r Sir...." In December, John Williams wrote Captain Martin from Boonesborough and his letter gives us a closer insight into affairs along Boone's Road: "... With respect to the complaints of the inhabitants of Powells Valley with regard to cattle being lodged there, I should think it altogether unjust than [that] non-inhabitants should bring in cattle to destroy and eat up the range of the inhabitants' stock; Yet, Sir, I cannot conceive that Col. Hart's stopping his stock there, when on their way here, to recruit them for their journey, can be the least infringement. Col. Hart is a proprietor, & [has] as great a right in the country as any one man. In the Valley are many lands yet unentered; and certainly if there be a right in letting stock into the range, he has a right equal to any man alive. I therefore hope you will endeavor to convince the inhabitants thereof, and that it is no indulgence to Col. Hart, but a right he claims, and what I think him justly entitled to. I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you at Boonesborough the 21^{st} instant--in the meantime making not the least doubt but that you will use every justifiable Method in Keeping up peace and harmony in the Valley"[11] As indicated in the former letter, the emigrants from the colonies were encroaching upon the Cherokee lands beyond the Henderson purchase. Joseph Martin was under the necessity of protesting to the Assembly of North Carolina against settlers from that state pressing beyond the Henderson lands and settling in the Cherokee country.[12] It is seen by Colonel Henderson's letter that Boone's Road marked the most westerly limit to which pioneers could go with safety. Irresponsible Cherokees invaded the Henderson purchase, and equally irresponsible (or ignorant) whites invaded the Cherokee country. The difficulty probably lay in not having a definite, plain boundary line that he who ran might recognize. The settlement here in Powell's Valley meant everything to the pioneers of Kentucky. This is made additionally plain by the attempt of interested parties to have Captain Martin's Indian Agency removed from Long Island to a point on Boone's Road near Cumberland Gap. In December 1782 William Christian wrote Governor Harrison from "Great [Long] Island," explaining the dependence of the inhabitants (undoubtedly both red and white) upon Martin in time of need. "I find," he wrote, "that the party here, consisting of fifty odd, are living on Col. Martin's corn. Whenever a family begins to be in a starving condition, it is very probable they will push for this place & throw themselves upon him for bread."[13] Fourteen days later he wrote from Mahanaim to "Hon. Col. Sampson Matthews" of Richmond; protesting against Virginia's Indian Agency being kept at Long Island, North Carolina; and urging that it be removed to near Cumberland Gap: "The Gap is near half way betwixt our settlements on Holston and Kentucky, and a post there would be a resting place for our poor citizens going back and forward, and would be a great means of saving the lives of hundreds of them. For it seldom happens that Indians will kill people near where they trade; & it is thereabouts the most of the mischief on the road has been done.... I view the change I propose as of great importance to the frontier of Washington, [County] to our people journeying to & from Kentucky, particularly the poor families moving out...."[14] It was, throughout the eighteenth century, exceedingly dangerous to travel Boone's Road; and those who journeyed either way joined together and traveled in "companies." Indeed there was risk enough for the most daring, in any case; but a well-armed "company" of tried pioneers on Boone's Road was a dangerous game upon which to prey. It was customary to advertise the departure of a company either from Virginia or Kentucky, in local papers; in order that any desiring to make the journey might know of the intended departure. The principal rendezvous in Kentucky was the frontier settlement of Crab Orchard. Certain of these advertisements are extremely interesting; the verbal changes are significant if closely read: Notice is hereby given, that a company will meet at the Crab Orchard, on Sunday the 4^{th} day of May, to go through the wilderness, and to set out on the 5^{th}. at which time most of the Delegates to the state convention will go[15] A large company will meet at the Crab orchard on sunday the 25^{th} of May, in order to make an early start on Monday the 26^{th} through the wilderness for the old settlement[16] A large company will meet at the Crab Orchard on the 15^{th}. day of May, in readiness to start on the 16^{th}. through the Wilderness for Richmond[17] Notice Is hereby given that several gentlemen propose meeting at the Crab-orchard on the 4^{th}. of June in perfect readiness to move early the next morning through the Wilderness[18] Notice A large company will meet at the Crab-Orchard the 19^{th}. of November in order to start the next day through the Wilderness. As it is very dangerous on account of the Indians, it is hoped each person will go well armed[19] It appears that unarmed persons sometimes attached themselves to companies and relied on others to protect them in times of danger. One advertisement urged that everyone should go armed and "not to depend on others to defend them."[20] The frequency of the departure of such companies suggests the great amount of travel on Boone's Road. As early as 1788 parties were advertised to leave Crab Orchard May 5, May 15, May 26, June 4, and June 16. Nor does it seem that there was much abatement during the more inclement (safer?) months; in the fall of the same year companies were advertised to depart November 19, December 9, and December 19. Yet at this season the Indians were often out waylaying travelers--driven no doubt by hunger to deeds of desperation. The sufferings of such redskinned marauders have found little place in history; but they are, nevertheless, particularly suggestive. One story, which has not perhaps been told _ad nauseam_, is to the point; and would be amusing if it were not so fatally conclusive. In the winter of 1787-88 a party on Boone's Road was attacked by Indians not far from the Kentucky border. Their horses were plundered of goods, but the travelers escaped. Hurrying "in" to the settlements a company was raised to make a pursuit. By their tracks in the snow the Indians were accurately followed. They were overtaken at a camp, where they were drying their blankets, &c., before a great fire. At the first charge the savages, completely surprised, took to their heels--stark naked. Not satisfied with recovering the stolen goods the Kentuckians pursued the fugitives into the mountains. Along the course they found trees stripped of pieces of bark, with which the Indians had attempted to cover their bodies. They were not overtaken, though some of their well protected pursuers had their own feet frost-bitten. The awful fate of the savages is unquestionable. Before Richard Henderson arrived in Kentucky Daniel Boone wrote him: "My advice to you, sir, is to come or send as soon as possible. Your company is desired greatly, for the people are very uneasy, but are willing to stay and venture their lives with you, and now is the time to flustrate the intentions of the Indians, and keep the country whilst we are in it. If we give way to them now, it will ever be the case." This letter shows plainly how the best informed man in Kentucky regarded Henderson's settlement at Boonesborough. Henderson's purchase was repudiated by both Virginia and North Carolina; but the Virginia Legislature confirmed Henderson's sales of land, in so far as they were made to actual settlers, and not to speculators, Henderson and his associates were granted land in lieu of that taken from them. The Transylvania Company, while looked upon askance by many who preferred to risk their tomahawk claim rights to those the Company granted, exerted as great a moral influence in the first settlement of Kentucky as Daniel Boone affirmed it would--a greater influence than any other company before the Revolutionary War. What it meant to the American colonies to have a brave band of pioneers in Kentucky at that crucial epoch, is an important chapter in the history of Boone's Road. CHAPTER IV KENTUCKY IN THE REVOLUTION History was fast being made in Kentucky when the Revolutionary struggle reached the crisis in 1775 at Concord and Lexington. South of the Ohio River Virginia's new empire was filling with the conquerors of the West. The Mississippi Valley counted a population of thirteen thousand, three thousand being the population of New Orleans. St. Louis, in Spanish possession, was carrying on a brisk trade with the Indians on the Missouri. Vincennes, the British port on the Wabash, had a population of four hundred whites. Detroit, the metropolis of the West, numbered fifteen hundred inhabitants, more than double the number in the dashing days of Gladwin only a decade before. The British flag also waved at Kaskaskia on the Mississippi, and at Sandusky. This fringe of British forts on the north was separated from the American metropolis of the West, Pittsburg, and from the first fortresses built in Kentucky, by leagues of forests, dark as when Bouquet pierced them; and filled with sullen Indian nations, awed for the time being by Dunmore's invasion, but silently biding their time to avenge themselves for the loss of the meadow lands of Ken-ta-kee. Such was the condition of affairs when, in April 1775, the open struggle for independence of the American colonies was roughly precipitated at Lexington. It might seem to the casual observer that the colonists, who were now hastening by way of Boone's Wilderness Road into the Virginian Kentucky, could not feel the intense jealousy for American interests which was felt by the patriots in the East. On the contrary, there is evidence that these first pioneers into the West had a profound knowledge of the situation; and a sympathy for the struggling patriots, which was enhanced even by the distance which separated them, and the hardships they had endured. Not a few of them, too, had known personally of the plundering British officials and the obnoxious taxes. It is the proud boast of Kentuckians that in the center of their beautiful Blue Grass country was erected the first monument to the first dead of the Revolution. A party of pioneers heard the news of the Battle of Lexington while sitting about their camp fire. Long into the night the rough men told and retold the news, and before morning named the new settlement they were to make, Lexington, in honor of New England's dead. It was not at all evident at first what the war was going to amount to in the West. Scarcely more was known in the West of the Revolutionary War than had been known two decades before of the French and Indian War. But at the outset it was plain that there was to be a tremendous struggle on both sides to gain the allegiance, as the British desired, of the Indian nations which lay between the Ohio River and the Great Lakes. For two years the struggle in the East went on, engrossing the entire attention of both parties. During 1776 and 1777 the history of the West is merely the continuation of the bloody story of the years which led up to Dunmore's campaign, like the savage attack on Wheeling, in September, 1777. Slowly the Indians forgot Lewis's crushing victory at Point Pleasant, and their solemn pledges at Camp Charlotte; and were raiding the feeble Kentucky posts with undiminished relish, or giving the Long Knives plenty of provocation for the barbarities of which the latter are known to have been guilty. The opening scene of the Revolutionary War in the West was the most important phase of the war in the history of Boone's Wilderness Road; for at the very outset the question was decided once for all whether or not that thin, long, priceless path to Kentucky through the Watauga settlement was to be held or lost. If it could not be held, there was no hope left for the brave men who had gone to found that western empire beyond the Cumberland Mountains. With their line of retreat cut in two by the southern Indians, they were left without hope of succor or success: for the success of their enterprise depended upon the inspiration their advance gave to those behind them. None would come if the Wautauga settlement did not survive. The British agents among the Southern Indians--the Cherokees, Creeks, Choctaws and Chickasaws--precipitated a quick and early struggle along this historic pathway by goading the Indians into a murderous attack upon the Watauga settlement. The Cherokees who had sold the Transylvania Company its lands, were the most easily incited to war, and fifty packhorse loads of ammunition scattered through their towns in those deep mountain valleys where the two Carolinas and Georgia meet, determined an outburst in July, 1776. Straight north from them lay the rude beginnings of civilization on the headwaters of the Tennessee, and further "in" was the frontier line of Virginia. The headquarters of the Watauga settlement may be said to have been Fort Watauga, commanded by the heroes Robertson and Sevier; here Boone had made the treaty with the Cherokees for Richard Henderson, a trifle over a year ago. Eaton's, Evan Shelby's, John Shelby's, Campbell's, and the Wommack forts were the important way stations on this path from Virginia to Kentucky. Two Indian parties larger than the others made for Fort Watauga and Eaton's Station, and the defenders of the latter post, learning from their scouts that a formidable array under the notorious Dragging Canoe was coming, resolved to give them a hot, unexpected welcome. Accordingly, on the morning of July twentieth nearly two hundred brown forms could have been seen stealing away from the fort in two thin lines half lost in the fog toward the open land known as "the Flats" near the "Long Island" of the Holston. In the march an advance party of a score of savages was met and put to flight. No other signs of the enemy could be discovered and the men started back to their fort at the end of the day. Dragging Canoe, not less audacious than his foes, awaited his time, and when the whites were marching homeward, came down upon them, his savages forming a wedge-shaped line of battle. Instantly the borderers fell back to the right and left, and with a desperate quietness awaited the onslaught. The Indian plan of rushing the whites off their feet by an overwhelming charge failed; the borderers settled deeper into the ground and met the rush and dashed the savage line into fragments. One charge--and all was over. There was no recovering from this form of attack for untrained soldiery, and the assaulting band instantly broke and fled. This battle of Long Island Flats was the first of the series of victories for the Watauga pioneers; its importance can hardly be measured today. Its best fruit was that it brought other victories to the encouraged Wataugans. On the same day the other Indian horde invested and assailed Fort Watauga at dawn. Only about two score men were at home to defend a large number of women and children, but they were fully equal to the emergency and with a frightful burst of fire drove back the line of savages which could just be seen advancing at that hour when Indians invariably made their attacks--the early dawn. Robertson was senior officer in command, and Sevier his brave assistant. The latter, having learned of the Indian uprising, characteristically wrote a message to the people far away on the Virginia border to look well to their homes--never even asking that assistance be sent to the much more feeble and vastly more endangered Watauga settlement on the Kentucky road. Elsewhere the border warfare was being waged with varying fortune; a small band of Georgian frontiersmen invaded the Cherokee country[20*] in the hope of capturing a notorious British agent, Cameron; it suffered heavily through the faithlessness of the Cherokees. The whole southern frontier was aroused, and plans for dashes into the Cherokee country were made but could not be forwarded simultaneously. Yet Cameron and his Tories and Indians acted in unison and brought sudden desolation into South Carolina. The force of the blow was broken by the brave Colonel Andrew Williamson, who, gathering over a thousand volunteers near the end of July began the first important invasion of the Cherokee country. Near Eseneka, the Cherokee town, the Carolinians found Cameron and won a costly victory. After some internal dissensions the little army got on its mettle and went steadily forward to wipe out the lower Cherokee towns, which was completely accomplished by the middle of August. Scarcity of ammunition, only, kept Williamson from attacking the middle towns. This task fell to the lot of the second expedition into the Cherokee country. This was a joint campaign waged by North and South Carolina, and Virginia, each to furnish two thousand men. The North Carolinians under Rutherford were earliest in the field. This officer with twenty-four hundred men left the head of the Catawba and opened "Rutherford's Trace" leading to Swananoa Gap in the Blue Ridge and on to the middle Cherokee towns by way of Warrior's Ford of French Broad and Mount Cowee. The middle towns were destroyed, and, uniting with Williamson, the two bodies of men swept over the Cherokee valley towns until "all the Cherokee settlements west of the Appalachians had been destroyed from the face of the earth, neither crops nor cattle being left." While the Carolinians had been sweeping into the lower Cherokee country, the Virginia troops had been assembling at the Long Island of the Holston under their leader Colonel William Christian. Their campaign against the Overhill towns was slowly formed here on the little westward pathway, and it was not until the first of October that all the contributions of men and arms from the settlements between Fort Watauga and the Virginia frontier were received. The advance, by way of Big Island of the Holston, was slow but determined--each encampment being made absolutely secure against surprise. The Indians, learning of the strength of Christian's army, knew better than to resist. They retired without a struggle and the borderers reached the heart of the Overhill country on the fifth day of November. Here they ravaged, burned, and razed to their hearts' content, until a deputation imploring peace came from the broken tribes. In this action old Dragging Canoe would have no part but stole away with a few followers toward the Chickamauga. Christian agreed to a treaty which definitely marked out the boundary line between the Indians and the whites, and then returned home leaving a garrison near the Kentucky path by the Holston. In the words of Roosevelt, who of all writers has done this campaign most justice: "The Watauga people and the westerners generally were the real gainers by the war. Had the Watauga settlements been destroyed, they would no longer have covered the Wilderness Road to Kentucky; and so Kentucky must perforce have been abandoned. But the followers of Robertson and Sevier stood stoutly for their homes; not one of them fled over the mountains. The Cherokees had been so roughly handled that for several years they did not again go to war as a body; and this not only gave the settlers a breathing time, but also enabled them to make themselves so strong that when the struggle was renewed they could easily hold their own. The war was thus another and important link in the chain of events by which the west was won; and had any link in the chain snapped during these early years, the peace of 1783 would probably have seen the trans-Alleghany country in the hands of a non-American power." If the holding of this pathway was of such moment the value of the pathway is plainly understood. Turning now to the end of Boone's Road, it will be necessary to review briefly the Revolutionary War in the "far" West; though in many of the campaigns the road itself played no part, in a large and genuine sense it was the pilgrims of Boone's Road who fought the most important battles of the Revolution in the West. Early in the struggle in the West, far-sighted ones saw signs of the growing despicable alliance of the savages to British interests; and before the bloody year of 1778 opened, it was only a question of how much England wanted of the savage allies who were crowded about their forts along the lakes. It is a terrible blot on the history of British rule in America, that when driven to face the same situation, English officers in the West used every means of retaliation for the use of which they so roundly condemned French officials a quarter of a century before. American officers employed Indians as guides and scouts, and were guilty of provoking inter-tribal war; but they did not pay Indians for bringing in British scalps, or praise them for their murderous successes and equip them for further service. As a brave American officer said, "Let this reproach remain on them"--and the people of the West will never forget the reproach, nor forgive! They remember, and always will remember, the burning words of Washington written more than ten years after the close of the Revolution: "All the difficulties we encounter with the Indians, their hostilities, the murder of helpless women and children along all our frontiers, results from the conduct of the agents of Great Britain in this country." There are today, in hundreds of homes of descendants of the pioneers in Kentucky, memories of the inhuman barbarities of British officers during the Revolution; these will never be forgotten, and will never fail to prejudice generations yet unborn. The reproach will remain on them. At the outbreak of the war, chiefs of the Indian nations were invited to Pittsburg, where the nature of the struggle was explained to them in the following parable: "Suppose a father had a little son whom he loved and indulged while young, but growing up to be a youth, began to think of having some help from him; and making up a small pack, he bid him carry it for him. The boy cheerfully takes this pack up, following his father with it. The father finding the boy willing and obedient, continues in this way; and as the boy grows stronger, so the father makes the pack in proportion larger; yet as long as the boy is able to carry the pack, he does so without grumbling. At length, however, the boy having arrived at manhood, while the father is making up the pack for him, in comes a person of an evil disposition, and, learning who was to be the carrier of the pack, advises the father to make it heavier, for surely the son is able to carry a larger pack. The father, listening rather to the bad adviser than consulting his own judgment and the feelings of tenderness, follows the advice of the hard-hearted adviser, and makes up a heavy load for his son to carry. The son, now grown up, examining the weight of the load he is to carry, addresses the father in these words: 'Dear Father, this pack is too heavy for me to carry, do pray lighten it; I am willing to do what I can, but am unable to carry this load.' The father's heart having by this time become hardened, and the bad adviser calling to him, 'Whip him if he disobeys,' and he refusing to carry the pack, the father orders his son to take up the pack and carry it off or he will whip him, and already takes up a stick to beat him. 'So,' says the son, 'am I to be served thus for not doing what I am unable to do? Well, if entreaties avail nothing with you, Father, and it is to be decided by blows, whether or not I am able to carry a pack so heavy, then I have no other choice left me, but that of resisting your unreasonable demand by my strength, and thus by striking each other learn who is the strongest.'" The Indians were urged to become neutral in the struggle that was opening. Impossible as such a course would have been to men who loved war better than peace, certain tribes promised to maintain neutrality. In a few months, however, most of the nations were in open or secret alliance with British officers. Only the better element of the Delaware nation, led by Captain White Eyes, became attached to the American cause. England was always handicapped in her use of the American Indian, because of the want of men who could successfully exert control over him. Even when the forts of the French in the West passed into British possession, Frenchmen were retained in control, since no Englishman could so well rule the savages who made the forts their rendezvous. The beginning of the successful employment of the Indians against the growing Virginian empire south of the Ohio, and against the multiplying cabins and forts of the Long Knives, may loosely be said to have begun in the spring of 1778 when three northern renegades, Simon Girty, Matthew Elliott, and Alexander McKee, eluded the continental General Hand at Pittsburg and took service under Lieutenant-governor Hamilton at Detroit. Bred to border warfare, and well known among the Indians from the Susquehanna to the Missouri, these three men were the "most effective tools for the purposes of border warfare" that the British could have secured. Hamilton immediately began to plan the invasion of Pennsylvania and the conquest of Pittsburg. The campaign was condemned by his superiors in the East, and was forgotten by its originator--when the news of a bold invasion of his own territory by a Virginian army suddenly reached his ears. The Transylvania Company came silently but suddenly to an end when the Kentuckians elected George Rogers Clark and Gabriel John Jones members of the Virginian assembly, for the assembly erected the county of Kentucky out of the land purchased by Henderson at Fort Watauga in 1775. Upon bringing this about, Clark, a native of Virginia and a hero of Dunmore's War, returned to Kentucky nourishing greater plans. With clear eyes he saw that the increasing affiliation of Indian and British interests meant that England, even though she might be unsuccessful in the East, could keep up an interminable and disastrous warfare "along the rear of the colonies," as long as she held forts on the northern edge of the Black Forest. Clark sent spies northward, who gained information confirming his suspicions; and then he hurried eastward, with his bold plan of conquering the "strongholds of British and Indian barbarity"--Kaskaskia, Vincennes, and Detroit. He came at a fortunate time. The colonies were rejoicing over the first great victory of the early war, Saratoga. Hope, everywhere, was high. From Patrick Henry, Governor of Virginia, Clark received two orders, one of which was to attack the British post Kaskaskia. He at once set out for Pittsburg to raise, in the West (where both Dunmore and Lewis raised their armies), troops for the most brilliant military achievement in western history. Descending the Ohio to Kentucky, where he received reënforcements, Clark marched silently through the forests--with one hundred and thirty-five chosen men--to Kaskaskia, which he took in utter surprise July 4, 1778. "Keep on with your merriment," he said to revelers whom he surprised at a dance, "but remember you dance under Virginia, not Great Britain." Clark brought the news of the alliance recently made between France and the United States into the Illinois country and used it with telling effect. A French priest at Vincennes raised a Virginian flag over that fort, telling the inhabitants and the Indians that their "French Father had come to life." In October Virginia incorporated the "County of Illinois" within her western empire--the first portion of the land north of the Ohio River to come under the administration of one of the states of the Union. Contemporaneously with Clark's stirring conquest, an expedition was raised at Pittsburg to march against the Indians in the neighborhood of the British fort at Sandusky--possibly to counteract the rumored attempt to invade Pennsylvania, by Hamilton at Detroit. Troops and supplies were to be assembled at Fort Pitt, where the famous route of Bouquet was to be followed toward the lakes. The expedition was put in charge of General Lachlan McIntosh. Distressing delays made the half-hearted Indians who were to guide the army, chafe; and McIntosh started before his stores arrived, fearing that longer delay would alienate his friendly Indians, among whom was the Delaware, White Eyes, now turned from a neutral course. At the mouth of the Beaver River McIntosh built the fort which bears his name--the first fort built by the Americans on the northern side of the Ohio. Advancing westward over Bouquet's tri-trail track with twelve hundred men, he reached the Muskingum (Tuscarawas) River in fourteen days, arriving November 19, 1778, where he erected Fort Laurens. But Lieutenant-governor Hamilton, learning of Clark's seizure of Kaskaskia and the treachery of the fickle inhabitants of Vincennes, set about to reconquer Illinois. Departing from Detroit on a beautiful October day, the expedition descended the Detroit River and entered the Maumee. The weather changed and it was seventy-one days before the American Captain Helm at Vincennes surrendered his wretched fort and became a prisoner of war. Hamilton was unable to push on to Kaskaskia because of the lack of provisions, and sat down to watch the winter out where he was. Thus the spectacular year 1778 closed--Clark at Kaskaskia, watching his antagonist feasting at Vincennes; McIntosh's little guard at Fort Laurens undergoing continual harassing and siege. In the East the evacuation of Philadelphia, the battle of Monmouth, and the terrible Wyoming massacre were the events of the year. The year 1779 was to see as brilliant an achievement in the West, as the East was to see in the capture of Stony Point. This was the recapture of Vincennes by Clark. Joined by an experienced adventurer, Colonel Francis Vigo, formerly of the Spanish service, Clark was persuaded that he must capture Hamilton or Hamilton would capture him. Accordingly, on the fifth of February, Clark set out for Vincennes with one hundred and seventy trusty men. In twelve days they reached the Embarras River, which was crossed on the twenty-first with great bravery, the men wading in water to their shoulders. On the twenty-fifth, Hamilton, the most surprised man in the world, was compelled to surrender. Within two weeks he was on his way to Virginia; where, being found guilty of buying Virginian scalps from the Indians, he was imprisoned, but was exchanged the year following. In July, while returning from New Orleans with supplies; Colonel Rogers and his party of Kentuckians were overwhelmed by Indians, under Girty and Elliott, on the Ohio River. In a terrible running battle sixty Kentuckians were killed. The sad news spread quickly through Kentucky and a thousand tongues called loudly for revenge. In response Major Bowman led three hundred volunteers up the Scioto Valley and attacked the Shawanese capital. There was bungling somewhere and a retreat was ordered before victory was achieved. During this summer the conqueror of Illinois expected to complete his triumph by the capture of Detroit. A messenger from Thomas Jefferson, Governor of Virginia, brought tidings that troops for this expedition would be forthcoming from Virginia and Kentucky, and rendezvous at Vincennes in July. When the time came, Clark found only a few soldiers from Kentucky and none at all from Virginia. The Detroit expedition fell through because of Virginia's poverty in money and in men; though artillery, ammunition, and tools had been secured for the campaign from Fort Pitt, at Washington's command. But with masterly foresight Governor Jefferson secured the establishment of a fort on the Mississippi River in the Illinois country. During this summer the little garrison which General McIntosh left buried in the Black Forest at Fort Laurens fled back over the trail to Pittsburg. Nowhere north of the Ohio were the scenes frequently enacted in Kentucky reproduced so vividly as at little Fort Laurens, on the upper Muskingum. At one time fourteen of the garrison were decoyed and slaughtered. At another time an army numbering seven hundred warriors invested the little half-forgotten fortress and its intrepid defenders. A slight embankment may be seen today near Bolivar, Ohio, which marks one side of the first fort erected in what is now Ohio, those near the lake shore excepted. Thus closed the year 1779: Clark again in possession of Vincennes, as well as Kaskaskia and Cahokia, but disappointed in the failure of the Detroit expedition; Hamilton languishing in a Virginia dungeon, twelve hundred miles from his capital--Fort Detroit; Fort Laurens abandoned, and the Kentucky country covered with gloom over Rogers's terrible loss and Bowman's inglorious retreat from the valley of the Scioto. On the other hand, the East was glorying in Mad Anthony Wayne's capture of Stony Point, Sullivan's rebuke to the Indians, and Paul Jones's electrifying victory on the sea. In 1780 four expeditions set forth, all of them singular in character, and noteworthy. The year before, 1779, Spain had declared war upon England. The new commander at Detroit took immediate occasion to regain control of the Mississippi by attacking the Spanish town of St. Louis. This expedition, under Captain Sinclair, descended the Mississippi from Prairie du Chien. The attack was not successful, but six whites were killed and eighteen taken prisoner. At the time of Bowman's expedition against the Shawanese, in the preceding year a British officer, Colonel Bird, had assembled a noteworthy array at Sandusky preparatory to the invasion of Kentucky. News of the Kentucky raid up the Scioto Valley set Bird's Indians to "cooking and counselling" again, instead of acting. This year Bird's invasion materialized, and the fate of the Kentucky settlements trembled in the balance. The invading army of six hundred Indians and Canadians was armed with two pieces of artillery. There is little doubt that this army could have battered down every "station" in Kentucky and swept victoriously through the new settlements. Ruddles's station on the Licking was first menaced, and surrendered quickly. Martin's fort also capitulated. But here Bird paused in his conquest and withdrew northward, the barbarity of the Indian allies, for once at least, shocking a British commander. The real secret of the abrupt retreat lay no doubt in the fact that the increasing immigration had brought such vast numbers of people into Kentucky that Bird dared not penetrate further into the land for fear of a surprise. The gross carelessness of the newly arrived inhabitants, in not taking the precaution to build proper defenses against the Indians, undoubtedly appeared to the British commander as a sign of strength and fortitude which he did not have the courage to put to the test. As a matter of fact, he could probably have annihilated every settlement between the Ohio River and Cumberland Gap. In retaliation Kentucky sent an immense army north of the Ohio, a thousand men volunteering under Clark, the hero of Vincennes. A large Indian army was routed near the Shawanese town Pickaway. Many towns with standing crops were burned. A similar expedition from Pittsburg under General Brodhead burned crops and villages on the upper Muskingum. In return for the attack on St. Louis, the Spanish commander at that point sent an expedition against the deserted British post of St. Joseph. Upon declaring war against England in the previous year, Spain had occupied Natchez, Baton Rouge, and Mobile, which, with St. Louis, gave her command of the Mississippi. But his Catholic Majesty was building other Spanish castles in America. He desired the conquest of the British northwest, to offset the British capture of Gibraltar. This "capture" of St. Joseph led to an amusing but ominous claim on the part of Spain at the Treaty of Paris: when, with it for a pretext, the Spanish Crown claimed all lands west of a line drawn from St. Joseph southward through what is now Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. The Mississippi River boundary was, however, stoutly contended for and obtained by the American commissioners. In this year the first "gunboat" to ply western waters was built under direction of Brigadier-general Clark. It was a galley armed with light artillery. This queer-looking craft soon fell into disuse, though it became a terror to the Indians who continually infested the lower Ohio. It was relished little better by the militia, who disliked service on water. But it stands as a typical illustration of the enterprise and devotion of the "Father of Kentucky" to the cause for which he had done so much. The year following, 1781, saw the termination of the Revolution in the East, when Cornwallis's army marched down the files of French and American troops at Yorktown to the melancholy tune "The World's Turned Upside Down." The Treaty of Paris was not signed until 1783, and in the meantime the bloodiest year of all the war in the West, 1782, was adding its horrors to all that had gone before. While the East was rejoicing, the central West saw the terrible massacre of Gnadenhutten--the more terrible because committed by white men themselves. In May, 1782, the atrocities of the savages (encouraged by the British) along the Pennsylvanian and Virginian border were becoming unbearable, and an expedition was raised in the Monongahela country to penetrate to the Indian-infested country on the Sandusky River. Volunteers, four hundred in number, all mounted, rendezvoused at the Ohio near Mingo Bottom; they elected as commander Colonel William Crawford, an experienced officer of the Revolutionary War, following Washington faithfully through the hard Long Island and Delaware campaigns. Crawford struck straight through the forests, even avoiding Indian trails, at first, in the hope of taking his foe utterly by surprise. But his wily foe completely outwitted him and the Indians and British knew well each day's progress. The battle was fought in a prairie land near the Sandusky River in what is now Crawford County, Ohio, and though not a victory for either side, an American retreat was ordered during the night following. Colonel Crawford was captured, among others, and suffered a terrible death at the stake, perhaps the saddest single atrocity committed by the redman in western history. This gray-haired veteran of the Revolution gave his life to appease the Indians for a massacre of Christian Indians perpetrated by savage borderers from the Monongahela country the year previous. Kentucky had witnessed minor activities of the savages during the spring. In August a grand Indian army assembled on the lower Scioto for the purpose of invading Kentucky. The assembly was harangued by Simon Girty, and moved southward and invaded Bryant's Station, one of the strongest forts in Kentucky. After a terrible day, during which re-enforcements kept arriving, only to be compelled to fight their way into the fort or flee, Girty attempted to secure capitulation. Outwitted, the renegade resorted to a stratagem, as cunningly devised as it was terribly successful. In the night the entire Indian army vanished as if panic-stricken. Meat was left upon the spits. Garments lay strewn about the encampment and along the route of the fugitive army. The more experienced of the border army, which was soon in full cry on the trail, scented the deception; but the headstrong hurried onward in hope of revenge. At the crossing of the Licking, near the lower Blue Licks, the Indian ambush received the witless pursuers with a frightful burst of flame, and the battle of Blue Licks became a running fire, a headlong rout and massacre. A thousand men joined Clark for a retaliatory invasion of the north, and the usual destruction of villages and crops was accomplished. This may be considered the last military event in the Revolutionary War in the West. CHAPTER V AT THE END OF BOONE'S ROAD On the nineteenth of April, 1775, the rumble of the running fire at Lexington and Concord told that the farmers of New England had at last precipitated the struggle which had been impending for a full generation. It was a roar that, truly, was "heard round the world." One day later, April 20, 1775, Colonel Henderson and his fellow-pioneers of the Transylvania Company reached Boonesborough; there they were joyfully received by a running fire of five and twenty muskets discharged by Boone's vanguard, which had preceded them to cut the road. If the musket-shot behind the New England stone walls was heard round the world, the rattle of that score of muskets in distant Kentucky was heard around a continent. The former uttered a hoarse defiance to tyrants--a cry to God for liberty; what was the faint roar which echoed back a thousand mountain miles from Kentucky but an answer to that cry? an assurance that "to him that hath shall be given?" There is something divinely significant to me in the coincidence of the opening shock of the Revolution, and the arrival in Kentucky of the first considerable body of determined, reputable men. The story of the Revolutionary War in the West has been told in preceding pages, as the merest record of fact. It is unnecessary to state that it was the most important conflict ever waged there, and it is equally trite to observe that the struggle centered around Kentucky. Boone's Road had made possible the sudden movement of population westward, and this pioneer host immediately drew upon itself the enemies that otherwise would have scourged the frontiers of New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina. The first and principal portion of the Kentucky pioneers--those who fought the Revolutionary battles--entered Kentucky by the Cumberland Gap route. James Lane Allen writes: "That area [Kentucky] has somewhat the shape of an enormous flat foot, with a disjointed big toe, a roughly hacked-off ankle, and a missing heel. The sole of this huge foot rests solidly on Tennessee, the Ohio River trickles across the ankle and over the top, the big toe is washed entirely off by the Tennessee River, and the long-missing heel is to be found in Virginia, never having been ceded by that State. Between the Kentucky foot and the Virginia heel is piled up this immense, bony, grisly mass of the Cumberland Mountain, extending some three hundred miles northeast and southwest. It was through this heel that Kentucky had to be peopled. The thin, half-starved, weary line of pioneer civilizers had to penetrate it, and climb this obstructing mountain wall, as a line of traveling ants might climb the wall of a castle. In this case only the strongest of the ants--the strongest in body, the strongest in will--succeeded in getting over and establishing their colony in the country far beyond. Luckily there was an enormous depression in the wall, or they might never have scaled it. During about half a century this depression was the difficult, exhausting entrance-point through which the State received the largest part of its people, the furniture of their homes, and the implements of their civilization; so that from the very outset that people represented the most striking instance of a survival of the fittest that may be observed in the founding of any American commonwealth. The feeblest of the ants could not climb the wall; the idlest of them would not."[21] Mr. Speed agrees wholly in this opinion: "The settlers came in ... increasing numbers.... A very large proportion came over the Wilderness Road."[22] In the early days river travel was not practicable. During the Revolutionary War and for some time thereafter travel down the Ohio River was dangerous, both because of the hostility of the savages and because of the condition of the river. In earlier days the journey from the Ohio into the populated parts of Kentucky was a great hardship. The story of one who emigrated to Kentucky by way of the Ohio shows plainly why many preferred the longer land route by way of Cumberland Gap. The following is from an autobiographical statement made by Spencer Record, preserved by the Wisconsin Historical Society: "About the Twentieth of November (1783) we embarked on the Monongahela in our boat, in company with Kiser, I having with me four head of horses and some cattle. We landed at the mouth of Limestone Creek, but there was then, no settlement there. We made search for a road, but found none. There was indeed a buffalo road, that crossed Limestone Creek a few miles above its mouth, and passing May's lick about twelve miles from Limestone, went on to the Lower Blue Lick on Licking river, and thence to Bryant's station: but as we knew nothing of it, we went on, and landed at the mouth of Licking river, on the twenty ninth of the month. "The next day, we loaded periogue, and a canoe, and set off up Licking, sometimes wading and pulling our periogue and canoe over the ripples. After working hard for four days, we landed, hid our property (which was whiskey and our farming utensils) in the woods, and returned to the Ohio, which by this time had taken a rapid rise and backed up Licking, so that we took Kiser's boat up, as far as we had taken our property and unloaded her. We left on the bank of Licking, a new wagon and some kettles. Leaving our property to help Kiser, we packed up and set off up Licking, and travelled some days; but making poor progress, and snow beginning to fall, with no cane in that part of the country, for our horses and cattle, we left Kiser and set off to hunt for cane. He sent his stock with us, in care of Henry Fry, who had come down in his boat with cattle for his father. "When we came to the fork of Licking we found a wagon road cut out, that led up the South fork. This road had been cut by Colonel Bird, a British officer, who had ascended Licking in keel boats, with six hundred Canadians and Indians. They were several days in cutting out this road which led to Riddle's fort, which stood on the east side of Licking, three miles below the junction of Hinkston's and Stoner's fork, yet our people knew nothing of it, till they were summoned to surrender.... We took the road and went on, the snow being about half leg deep. Early in the morning, about three miles from Riddle's fort, we came to three families encamped. They had landed at Limestone but finding no road, they wandered through the woods, crossed Licking, and happening to find the road, took it.... We went on to the fort, where we found plenty of cane. The next morning, John Finch and myself set off to try to find Lexington, and left the horses and cattle ... as there was no road, we took up Will creek, and towards the head of it we met some hunters, who lived on the south side of Kentucky river who gave us directions how to find a hunting trace, that led to Bryant's station.... We went on, found the trace, and arrived at Bryant's station."[23] Adding to the difficulties of land travel the dangers of the river tide, the difficulty of securing boats, and their great cost, it is little wonder that emigrants from Virginia preferred the long but better-known land route, through Powell's Valley and Cumberland Gap to the Braddock Road and the Ohio River. At a later date, however, the difficulties of river passage were materially decreased and the Ohio became the great outward emigrant route. But for the return traffic from Kentucky to Virginia, there was no comparison between the ease of the land route and the water route. Mr. Speed affirms that the road through Cumberland Gap "was the only practicable route for all return travel."[24] Of course for a long period there were no exports from Kentucky, as hardly enough could be raised to feed the multitude of immigrants; but when at last Kentucky strode to the front with its great harvests of wheat and tobacco, the Mississippi and Ohio ports received them. The East received comparatively little benefit, in a commercial way, from Boone's Road; but in the earliest days that slight track furnished a moral support that can hardly be exaggerated. The vast population that surged westward over it was a mighty barrier which protected the rear of the colonies from the savages, until savage warfare was at an end. Though the frontiers of New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia suffered greatly during the Revolution, it was Kentucky that was the thorn in the side of the British; Kentucky drew the fire of both British and Indians which otherwise would have desolated the rear of the eastern colonies, and necessitated a greater number of men than could possibly have been maintained there. It was not at Fort Pitt that the British were constantly striking, but at the Kentucky "stations;" it was not up the Allegheny or Monongahela that Colonel Burd pushed his keel boats, but up the Licking. This fact is splendidly urged by Col. John Floyd, in a letter to the governor of Virginia written on the sixth of October, 1781, in a plea for assistance in maintaining the Kentucky settlements: "... A great deal more might be said concerning the dangerous situation of these counties, but I have not been informed whether Government think it absolutely necessary for the advantage of the community at large to defend this country [Kentucky] at so considerable expense as must be incurred thereby; and I therefore beg leave to offer your Excellency one or two reasons why it may be of advantage to defend the Kentucky country. It is now beyond a doubt, that the attention of at last [least] 6000 savage warriors is fixed on this spot, and who will not disturb any other part of the Continent as long as we maintain our ground. But, on the contrary, as soon as this country is laid waste, they will immediately fall upon the inhabitants of Washington, Montgomery, Greenbriar, &c--in short, from South Carolina to Pennsylvania. I believe all the counties on the west side of the Blue Ridge were kept for many years penned up in forts by the Shawanese, Mingoes, Delawares & a few of their adherents; if so what will be the consequence when at least fifteen powerful Nations are united and combined with those above mentioned against about twelve hundred militia dispersed over three very extensive counties. Those nations have absolutely been kept off your back settlements by the inhabitants of Kentucky. Two or three thousand men in this country would be sufficient to defend it, and effectually secure the back settlements on New River & its waters, as well as those high up James River & Roanoake."[25] In addition to conferring the inestimable advantage of defending the frontiers of the colonies, the early settlement and the holding of Kentucky insured American possession of the Middle West; this meant everything to the East--for the steady, logical expansion of the nation was the one hope of the country when independence was secured. Upon the Americanization of the Mississippi Valley depended the safety of the eastern colonies, and their commercial and political welfare. It meant very much to the East that a strong colony was holding its own on the Ohio and Mississippi during the hours when the Revolutionary struggle was in progress; and it meant even more to the East that, upon the conclusion of that struggle, thousands whose future seemed as black as the forests of the West could immediately emigrate thither and begin life anew. But for the Virginians and Kentuckians along the Ohio it is almost certain that Great Britain would have divided the eastern half of this continent with the triumphant revolutionists. For the few posts along the lakes that she did hold there was a spirited wrangle for twenty years, until they were at last handed over to the United States. Boone did not blaze his road one day too soon, and the hand of divine Providence is not shown more plainly in our national history than by the critical timeliness with which these pioneers were ushered into the meadow lands of Ken-ta-kee. The onslaughts of Shawanese and Wyandot did not overwhelm them; nor were they daunted by the plotting of desperate British officers, who spread ruin and desolation along the flank and rear of the fighting colonies. Again, this earliest population in the immediate valley of the Mississippi had a powerful influence on the attitude of the United States toward the powers that held the Mississippi. Had it not been for a Kentucky in embryo in 1775-82, it is unquestionable that the confused story of the possession of that great river valley would have been worse confounded. The whirl of politics in Kentucky during the four decades after the Revolutionary War daunts even the student of modern Kentucky politics; and of one thing we may rest assured--had the State possessed a little less of the sober sense that came from Virginia through Cumberland Gap, it is certain the story of those wild days would not be as readable to modern Kentuckians as it is. It was more than fortunate for the young Republic that at the close of the Revolution there was a goodly population of expatriated Virginians and North Carolinians on the Mississippi, ready to press its claims there. Thus we may briefly suggest the benefits which the older colonies received from the earliest settlers in Kentucky--and but for Boone's Road made by the Transylvania Company, it is exceedingly doubtful, as Boone wrote, whether the settlement of Kentucky would have been successfully inaugurated as early as 1774. At any rate Boone's Road brought into Kentucky thousands of pioneers who probably would have refused to move westward by the Ohio River route. As for the benefit Kentucky itself received from Boone's Road, that is self-evident. Taking everything into consideration, no distinct movement of population in America, before or since, can compare in magnitude with the burst of immigration through Cumberland Gap between 1775 and 1790. Never on this continent was a population of seventy thousand people located, within fifteen years of the day the first cabins were erected, at an equal distance from the existing frontier line. It is difficult to frame the facts of this remarkable phenomenon in language that will convey the full meaning. If the brave pioneers from Connecticut who founded the Northwest Territory at Marietta, Ohio, in 1788, had gone on to Kentucky, they would have found themselves, within twelve years, in as populous a state as that they left in New England. The Stanwix Treaty and Boone's Road largely answer the question why Kentucky contained more than one-half as many inhabitants as Massachusetts, twenty-five years after its first settlement was made; and why it was admitted into the Union four years before Tennessee, ten years before Ohio, twenty-four years before Indiana, twenty-six years before Illinois (bounded by the Ohio and Mississippi and Lake Michigan), and twenty-eight years before Maine. Between 1790 and 1800 the population of Kentucky jumped from 70,000 to 220,000, only one-third less than proud Maryland, and five times that of Ohio. In the census of 1790 Kentucky stood fourteenth in a grouping of sixteen states and territories, while in 1800 it stood ninth. In 1790 it exceeded the population of Rhode Island, Delaware and Tennessee. In 1800 it exceeded New Jersey, New Hampshire, Georgia, Vermont, Maine, Tennessee, Rhode Island, and Delaware. In this year it had one hundred and sixty thousand more inhabitants than Indiana Territory, Mississippi Territory, and Ohio Territory combined. In the decade mentioned, New York State increased in population two hundred and fifty thousand; far-away Kentucky increased one hundred and forty-seven thousand. But the West as a whole was benefited by Boone's Road. The part played by this earliest population of Kentucky in the development of the contiguous states--Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri--has never been emphasized sufficiently. No Ohio historian has given sufficient attention to the part played by Kentuckians in the conquest of that area of territory. The struggle between the Kentuckians and the Ohio Indians has been outlined. The former fought for and saved to the Union the great territory south of the Ohio; and then left their smoking cabins and threw themselves ever and anon across the Ohio, upon the Indian settlements between that river and the Great Lakes. Where is even the Kentucky historian who has done his state justice in telling the story of Kentucky's conquest of Ohio and Indiana? Of the brilliant operations of Clark in Illinois we know very much, and the part played by the Kentuckians on the Mississippi and Illinois has frequently been made plain. But a singular misconception of the nature of Indian warfare has robbed the heroes of old Kentucky of much honor due them. Judged by ordinary military standards, the numerous invasions of Ohio and Indiana by Kentuckians amounted to little. Such was not the real case, many times. The Indians could ever retreat helter-skelter into the forests, avoiding more than a mere skirmish with the advancing pioneers. But they could not take their crops--and the destruction of one slight maize crop meant more to the invading army than the killing of many savages. The killing of the Indians did nothing but aggravate hostilities and long delay the end of the conflict. On the other hand, slaying redskins became the passion of the whites, and it is probable that many of their expeditions seemed failures if blood was not spilt. But their very presence in the Indian land and the destruction of the grain fields was more to their purpose, could they only have realized it. The Indians were then compelled to live largely on game, and as this grew more scarce each year the simple problem of obtaining subsistence became serious. The hunters were compelled to go further and further into the forest, and the tribes followed them. By doing nothing more than burning the harvest fields and ruining the important springs, the whites were slowly but surely conquering the trans-Ohio country.[26] By such a process one river valley after another was deserted, until, when the first legalized settlement was made in Ohio--at Marietta, in 1788--the Muskingum, Scioto and Miami valleys were practically deserted by redskins. Little as the Indians relished the new settlement at Marietta, they paid practically no attention to it but kept their eyes on the populated valleys of Kentucky, where their enemies of so many years' standing had settled, held their own, and then carried fire and sword northward. In October 1788 Governor Arthur St. Clair wrote the Hon. Mr. Brown of Danville, Kentucky, to give warning of the Indian war that seemed imminent; "The stroke, if it falls at all, will probably fall upon your country," he wrote.[27] And the Indian War of 1790 was precipitated because of Indian marauds along the Kentucky border--not because of attacks upon the settlements along the upper Ohio. The Kentuckians had played a preëminent part in driving the Indians back to the head of the Wabash and the mouth of the Maumee, in the two decades preceding the Indian War which opened in 1790, and during that war they were to the American armies what the English were to the allies at Waterloo. Local histories and local historians have created the impression that Ohio was conquered largely by Ohioans. Nothing could be more misleading. Far-reaching as the influence of the little roadway through Cumberland Gap has been, its actual history is of little interest or importance. Perhaps none of our ancient roads has done so much for society in proportion to the attention paid to it. Any adjective ever applied to a roadway, if it were of a derogatory character, might have been fitly applied to portions of this old track which played an important part in giving birth to the first and most important settlement in the West. During the few important years of its existence Boone's Road was only what Boone made it--a blazed foot-path westward. It was but the merest foot-path from 1774 to 1792, while thousands floundered over its uncertain track to lay the rude foundations of civilization in the land to which it led. "There are roads that make a man lose faith," writes Mr. Allen; "It is known that the more pious companies [of pioneers] as they traveled along, would now and then give up in despair, sit down, raise a hymn, and have prayers said before they could go farther." There was probably not a more desperate pioneer road in America than this. The mountains to be crossed, the rivers and swamps the traveler encountered, were as difficult to overcome as any on Braddock's Road; and Boone's Road was very much longer, even if measured from its technical starting-point--the Watauga settlement. As early as 1779 the Virginia Assembly took up the subject of a western highway, and commissioners were appointed to explore the region on both sides of the mountains, to choose a course for a roadway, clear and open the route, and render a report upon the advisability of making a wagon road. Yet no improvement followed. The narrow path--rough, treacherous, almost impassable--remained the only course. A vivid description of what a journey over it meant in this year, 1779, has been left us by Chief-justice Robertson in an address given at Camp Madison, Franklin County, Kentucky, half a century ago: "This beneficent enactment [the land law] brought to the country during the fall and winter of that year an unexampled tide of emigrants, who, exchanging all the comforts of their native society and homes for settlements for themselves and their children here, came like pilgrims to a wilderness to be made secure by their arms and habitable by the toil of their lives. Through privations incredible and perils thick, thousands of men, women, and children came in successive caravans, forming continuous streams of human beings, horses, cattle, and other domestic animals, all moving onward along a lonely and houseless path to a wild and cheerless land. Cast your eyes back on that long procession of missionaries in the cause of civilization; behold the men on foot with their trusty guns on their shoulders, driving stock and leading packhorses; and the women, some walking with pails on their heads, others riding with children in their laps, and other children swung in baskets on horses, fastened to the tails of others going before; see them encamped at night expecting to be massacred by Indians; behold them in the month of December, in that ever memorable season of unprecedented cold called the 'hard winter,' traveling two or three miles a day, frequently in danger of being frozen or killed by the falling of horses on the icy and almost impassable trace, and subsisting on stinted allowances of stale bread and meat; but now lastly look at them at the destined fort, perhaps on the eve of merry Christmas, when met by the hearty welcome of friends who had come before, and cheered by fresh buffalo meat and parched corn, they rejoice at their deliverance, and resolve to be contented with their lot. "This is no vision of the imagination, it is but an imperfect description of the pilgrimage of my own father and mother, and of many others who settled in Kentucky in December, 1779." Not until 1792 was the mountain route improved. "In that year," writes Mr. Speed, "according to an account-book recently found among the Henry Innis Papers, by Colonel John Mason Brown ... a scheme was projected for the clearing and improvement of the Wilderness Road, under the direction of Colonel John Logan and James Knox. It was a private enterprise altogether; the subscribers to it are set down in the book as follows: Isaac Shelby, £3 0s Robert Breckinridge, 2 8 George Nicholas, 2 8 Henry Pawling, 1 10 John Brown, 2 8 James Brown, 1 16 Alexander S. Bullitt, 2 8 Wm. McDowell, 1 10 Edward S. Thomas, 1 10 Joseph Crockett, 1 18 Wm. King, 10 Wm. Montgomery, jr., 1 10 John Hawkins, 1 10 Samuel Woods, 1 4 Hubbard Taylor, 2 8 Thomas Todd, 1 10 Wm. Steele, 1 10 James Trotter, 1 18 Joseph Gray, 2 2 Joshua Hobbs, 1 4 Robert Todd, 1 10 Jesse Cravens, 1 10 David Knox, 1 12 Thomas Lewis, 1 10 Samuel Taylor, 1 4 John McKinney, 1 18 Nicholas Lewis, 1 4 Jacob Froman, 3 0 Richard Young, 1 4 James Davies, 1 10 Robert Patterson, 1 10 Robert Mosby, 1 10 John Watkins, 1 4 Matthew Walton, 1 16 John Jouett, 1 10 Robert Abel, 12 John Wilson, 12 Richard Taylor, 1 10 Arthur Fox, 1 0 John Caldwell, 12 George Thompson, 1 4 Baker Ewing, Abe Buford, 1 8 Willis Green, 1 10 Wm. Montgomery, sr., 1 10 Morgan Forbes, 18 Daniel Hudgins, 6 Samuel Grundy, 1 10 James Hays, 1 10 James Edwards, 9 Wm. Campbell, 12 David Stevenson, 9 Hugh Logan, 6 Peter Troutman, 12 Thomas Montgomery, 6 John Vauhn, 6 Elijah Cravens, 6 Richard Chapman, 6 James Sutton, 3 Joseph Lewis, 6 Wm. Baker, 6 Richard Jackman, 6 Jonathan Forbes, 12 Isaac Hite, 12 John Blane, 12 Abraham Hite, 12 John Caldwell, 1 4 Peyton Short, 1 10 George M. Bedinger, 18 Alex. D. Orr, 1 10 Philip Caldwell, 1 4 Cornelius Beatty, 1 16 Nathaniel Hart, 1 4 John Grant, 1 10 Andrew Holmes, 1 16 Alex. Parker, 1 16 Robert Barr, 2 8 James Parker, 1 16 Thomas Kennedy, 3 0 Wm. Live, 1 18 George Teagarden, 18 George Muter, 1 10 James Hughes, 1 10 Buckner Thruston, 1 10 John Moylan, 1 10 Samuel McDowell, 1 4 James Parberry, 3 0 Joseph Reed, 2 0 Wm. Perrett, 5 John Robinson, 2 0 John Wilkins, 4 Wm. Whilley, Bacon acct. Henry Clark, 6 Hardy Rawles, 2 0 James Young, 12 John Warren, 6 Peter Sidebottom, 6 John Willey, 6 Moses Collier, 12 Abraham Himberlin, 1 0 Alex Blane, 12 John Jones, 18 Levi Todd, 1 0 Thomas Ball, 12 "Besides these, it appears from a note in the memorandum book there were other subscribers. Among the Innis papers I have found the following paper: 'Colonel John Logan and Colonel James Knox, having consented to act as commissioners to direct and supervise the making and opening a road from the Crab Orchard to Powell's Valley, provided funds to defray the necessary expenses shall be procured, we, the subscribers, do therefore severally engage to pay the sum annexed to our names to the Hon. Harry Innis and Colonel Levi Todd, or to their order, in trust, to be by them applied to the payment of the reasonable expenses which the said commissioners may incur in carrying the above design into effect, also to the payment of such compensation to the said commissioners for their services as the said Innis and Todd may deem adequate.' June 20, 1792. Thos. Barber, $10 Wm. Crow, 5 Green Dorsey, 18 John Cochran, 4 David Gillis, 10 Wm. Petty, 1 John Warren, 10 Wm. Kenton, 1 Philip Bush, jr., 10 David Rice, 1 John Rochester, 10 John Rogers, 1 Samuel G. Keen, 5 Padtrick Curran, 1 John Reedyun, 1 Daniel Barber, 1 Philip Yeiser, 3 "The money subscribed was disbursed by Harry Innis. Men were employed as 'road cutters,' as 'surveyors,' to 'carry provisions,' to 'grind corn,' and 'collect bacon.' The pay was two shillings sixpence per day, and the work extended over twenty-two days in the summer of 1792."[28] The Kentucky legislature passed an act in 1793, which provided a guard for pilgrims on the Wilderness Road; in 1794 an act was passed for the clearing of the Boonesborough fork of the road, from Rockcastle Creek to the Kentucky River. In 1795 the legislature passed an act to make the Wilderness Road a "wagon road" thirty feet wide from near Crab Orchard to Cumberland Gap. Proposals being advertised for, the aged Daniel Boone addressed Governor Isaac Shelby the following letter: "Sir feburey the 11th 1796 after my Best Respts to your Excelancy and famyly I wish to inform you that I have sum intention of undertaking this New Rode that is to be Cut through the Wilderness and I think My Self intiteled to the ofer of the Bisness as I first Marked out that Rode in March 1775 and Never Re'd anything for my trubel and Sepose I am No Statesman I am a Woodsman and think My Self as Capable of Marking and Cutting that Rode as any other man Sir if you think with Me I would thank you to wright mee a Line by the post the first oportuneaty and he Will Lodge it at Mr. John Miler son hinkston fork as I wish to know Where and When it is to be Laat [let] So that I may atend at the time I am Deer Sir your very omble sarvent"[29] Boone probably did not get the contract.[30] In 1797 five hundred pounds were appropriated for the repair of the road and erection of toll-gates. The result of this and all subsequent legislation, to preserve a thoroughfare after its day and reason for existence had passed, is thus summed up by Mr. Allen: "But despite all this--despite all that has been done to civilize it since Boone traced its course in 1790 [1775?], this honored historic thoroughfare remains today as it was in the beginning, with all its sloughs and sands, its mud and holes, and jutting ledges of rock and loose bowlders, and twists and turns, and general total depravity." And yet "it is impossible," Mr. Allen continues, "to come upon this road without pausing, or to write of it without a tribute." The mountainous portions of Boone's old road are the picturesque as well as the historic portions. And come what may, this zig-zag pathway through Powell's Valley and Cumberland Gap can never be effaced--never forgotten. The footsteps of the tens of thousands who have passed over it, exhausted though each pilgrim may have been, have left a trace that a thousand years cannot eradicate. And so long as the print of those weary feet can be seen in dark Powell's Valley, on Cumberland Gap, and beside Yellow and Rockcastle Creeks, so long will there be a memorial left to perpetuate the heroism of the first Kentuckians--and the memory of what the Middle West owes to Virginia and her neighbors. For when all is said this track from tide water through Cumberland Gap must remain a monument to the courage and patriotism of the people of old Virginia and North Carolina. Cumberland Gap, "that high-swung gateway through the mountain" stands as "a landmark of what Nature can do when she wishes to give an opportunity to the human race in its migrations and discoveries, without surrendering control of its liberty and its fate." Here passed the mound-building Indian and the buffalo, marking the first routes from North to South across the continent. Here later passed the first flood-tide of white men's immigration. There are few spots on the continent, it is said, where the traveler of today is brought more quickly to a pause, overcome equally by the stupendous panorama before him, and by the memory of the historical associations which will assail even the most indifferent. Ere you reach the Gap "the idea of it," writes Mr. Allen, "dominates the mind. While yet some miles away, it looms up, 1675 feet in elevation, some half a mile across from crest to crest, the pinnacle on the left towering to the height of 2500 feet. It was late in the afternoon when our tired horses began the long, winding, rocky climb from the valley to the brow of the pass. As we stood in the passway, amid the deepening shadows of the twilight and the solemn repose of the mighty landscape, the Gap seemed to be crowded with two invisible and countless pageants of human life, the one passing in, the other passing out; and the air grew thick with unheard utterances--primeval sounds undistinguishable and strange, of creatures nameless and never seen by man; the wild rush and whoop of retreating and pursuing tribes; the slow steps of watchful pioneers; the wail of dying children and the songs of homeless women; the muffled tread of routed and broken armies--all the sounds of surprise and delight, victory and defeat, hunger and pain, and weariness and despair, that the human heart can utter. Here passed the first of the white race who led the way into the valley of the Cumberland; here passed that small band of fearless men who gave the Gap its name; here passed the 'Long Hunters'; here rushed armies of the Civil War; here has passed the wave of westerly immigration, whose force has spent itself only on the Pacific slopes; and here in the long future must flow backward and forward the wealth of the North and the South." FOOTNOTES: [1] Johnson's _First Explorations of Kentucky_ (Filson Club Publications, No. 13), contains the journals of Walker and Gist used in connection with this chapter. [2] Johnson's _First Explorations of Kentucky_ (Filson Club Publications No. 13), p. 59. [3] _First Explorations of Kentucky_ (Filson Club Publications No. 13), pp. 85-86. [4] MSS. of Major Pleasant Henderson in the _Draper Collection_, Madison, Wisconsin; _Kentucky MSS._, vol. 2, fol. 23. [5] Draper Collection: _Kentucky MSS._ vol. 1. [6] The maternal grandfather of Abraham Lincoln. [7] This copy of the journal was made from the original by Mary Catharine Calk, granddaughter of Thomas Calk, Jr. [8] Draper Collection: _Kentucky MSS._, vol. 4, cc. p. 85. [9] _The Wilderness Road_: pp. 18-20. [10] Draper Collection: _Kentucky MSS._, vol. 1, fol. 215. [11] _Id._ [12] Draper Notes, Wisconsin Historical Society, vol. 2; _id._, _Martin to Gov. Harrison_, Trip of 1860, vol. 3, p. 27. [13] _Draper Notes_, vol. 2, p. 56. [14] _Id._, pp. 126-127. [15] _Kentucky Gazette_: no. 33, April 12, 1788. [16] _Id._, no. 36, May 3, 1788. [17] _Id._ [18] _Id._, no. 38, May 17, 1788. [19] _Id._, vol. ii, no. 10, November 1, 1788. [20] _Id._, vol. ii, no. 14, November 29, 1788. [20*] See _Historic Highways of America_, vol. ii, note 32. [21] Allen: _The Blue Grass Region of Kentucky_, pp. 251-252. [22] Speed: _The Wilderness Road_, p. 30; cf. pp. 42, 43; cf. Roosevelt: _The Winning of the West_ (1899), vol. i, p. 316. [23] Draper Collection: _Kentucky MSS._, vol. 23, cc. pp. 19-24. [24] Speed: _The Wilderness Road_, p. 30. Cf. _American Pioneer_, vol. ii, pp. 219-220; _St. Clair Papers_, vol. ii, p. 246; _Life of Nathaniel Massie_, p. 121; Collins's _History of Kentucky_, vol. ii, p. 327. [25] _Draper's Notes_, vol. II, Trip 1860, iii, p. 56. [26] Cf. _Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents_, vol. 1, p. 145. [27] _Kentucky Gazette_: vol. ii, no. 9, October 25, 1788. [28] _The Wilderness Road_, pp. 48-50. [29] Collins: _History of Kentucky_, vol. ii, p. 242. [30] _Id._, p. 213. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected except for narratives and letters included in this text. 3. Footnotes have been moved to the end of the main text body. 4. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest paragraph break. 5. Carat character (^) followed by a single letter or a set of letters in curly brackets is indicative of subscript in the original book. 6. For longtitude and latitude, the minutes and seconds are placed as single quotes within brackets. For example: 38° 47['] 20['']. 
939	----	None 
41030	----	HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 12 HISTORIC HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA VOLUME 12 Pioneer Roads and Experiences of Travelers (Volume II) BY ARCHER BUTLER HULBERT _With Maps_ [Illustration] THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY CLEVELAND, OHIO 1904 COPYRIGHT, 1904 BY THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 9 I. THE OLD NORTHWESTERN TURNPIKE 13 II. A JOURNEY IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA 43 III. A PILGRIM ON BRADDOCK'S ROAD 64 IV. THE GENESEE ROAD 95 V. A TRAVELER ON THE GENESEE ROAD 117 VI. THE CATSKILL TURNPIKE 143 VII. WITH DICKENS ALONG PIONEER ROADS 164 ILLUSTRATIONS I. PART OF A "MAP OF THE ROUTE BETWEEN ALBANY AND OSWEGO" (drawn about 1756; from original in British Museum) 97 II. PART OF A "MAP OF THE GRAND PASS FROM NEW YORK TO MONTREAL ... BY THOMAS POWNALL" (drawn about 1756; from original in the British Museum) 113 III. WESTERN NEW YORK IN 1809 123 PREFACE This volume is devoted to two great lines of pioneer movement, one through northern Virginia and the other through central New York. In the former case the Old Northwestern Turnpike is the key to the situation, and in the latter the famous Genesee Road, running westward from Utica, was of momentous importance. A chapter is given to the Northwestern Turnpike, showing the movement which demanded a highway, and the legislative history which created it. Then follow two chapters of travelers' experiences in the region covered. One of these is given to the _Journal of Thomas Wallcutt_ (1790) through northern Virginia and central Pennsylvania. Another chapter presents no less vivid descriptions from quite unknown travelers on the Virginian roads. The Genesee Road is presented in chapter four as a legislative creation; the whole history of this famous avenue would be practically a history of central New York. To give the more vivid impression of personal experience a chapter is devoted to a portion of Thomas Bigelow's _Tour to Niagara Falls 1805_ over the Genesee Road in its earliest years, when the beautiful cities which now lie like a string of precious gems across this route were just springing into existence. For a chapter on the important "Catskill Turnpike," which gives much information of road-building in central New York, we are indebted to Francis Whiting Halsey's _The Old New York Frontier_. The final chapter of the volume includes a number of selections from the spicy, brilliant descriptions of pioneer traveling in America which Dickens left in his _American Notes_, and a few pages describing an early journey on Indian trails in Missouri from Charles Augustus Murray's _Travels in North America_. A. B. H. MARIETTA, OHIO, January 26, 1904. Pioneer Roads and Experiences of Travelers (Volume II) CHAPTER I THE OLD NORTHWESTERN TURNPIKE We have treated of three historic highways in this series of monographs which found a way through the Appalachian uplift into the Mississippi Basin--Braddock's, Forbes's, and Boone's roads and their successors. There were other means of access into that region. One, of which particular mention is to be made in this volume, dodged the mountains and ran around to the lakes by way of the Mohawk River and the Genesee country. Various minor routes passed westward from the heads of the Susquehanna--one of them becoming famous as a railway route, but none becoming celebrated as roadways. From central and southern Virginia, routes, likewise to be followed by trunk railway lines, led onward toward the Mississippi Basin, but none, save only Boone's track, became of prime importance. But while scanning carefully this mountain barrier, which for so long a period held back civilization on the Atlantic seaboard, there is found another route that was historic and deserves mention as influencing the westward movement of America. It was that roadway so well known three-fourths of a century ago as the Old Northwestern Turnpike, leading from Winchester, Virginia, to the Ohio River at Parkersburg, Virginia, now West Virginia, at the mouth of the Little Kanawha. The earliest history of this route is of far more interest than importance, for the subject takes us back once more to Washington's early exploits and we feel again the fever of his wide dreams of internal communications which should make the Virginia waterways the inlet and outlet of all the trade of the rising West. It has been elsewhere outlined how the Cumberland Road was the actual resultant of Washington's hopes and plans. But it is in place in a sketch of the Old Northwestern Turnpike to state that Washington's actual plan of making the Potomac River all that the Erie Canal and the Cumberland Road became was never even faintly realized. His great object was attained--but not by means of his partisan plans. It is very difficult to catch the exact old-time spirit of rivalry which existed among the American colonies and which always meant jealousy and sometimes bloodshed. In the fight between Virginia officers in Forbes's army in 1758 over the building of a new road through Pennsylvania to Fort Duquesne, instead of following Braddock's old road, is an historic example of this intense rivalry. A noted example, more easily explained, was the conflict and perennial quarrel between the Connecticut and Pennsylvania pioneers within the western extremity of the former colony's technical boundaries. That Washington was a Virginian is made very plain in a thousand instances in his life; and many times it is emphasized in such a way as must seem odd to all modern Americans. At a stroke of a pen he shows himself to be the broadest of Americans in his classic Letter to Benjamin Harrison, 1784; in the next sentence he is urging Virginia to look well to her laurels lest New York, through the Hudson and Mohawk, and Pennsylvania, through the Susquehanna and Juniata, do what Virginia ought to do through her Potomac. The powerful appeal made in this letter was the result of a journey of Washington's in the West which has not received all the attention from historians it perhaps deserves. This was a tour made in 1784 in the tangled mountainous region between the heads of the branches of the Potomac and those of the Monongahela.[1] Starting on his journey September 1, Washington intended visiting his western lands and returning home by way of the Great Kanawha and New Rivers, in order to view the connection which could be made there between the James and Great Kanawha Valleys. Indian hostilities, however, made it unwise for him to proceed even to the Great Kanawha, and the month was spent in northwestern Virginia. On the second, Washington reached Leesburg, and on the third, Berkeley; here, at his brother's (Colonel Charles Washington's) he met a number of persons including General Morgan. "... one object of my journey being," his _Journal_ reads, "to obtain information of the nearest and best communication between the Eastern & Western Waters; & to facilitate as much as in me lay the Inland Navigation of the Potomack; I conversed a good deal with Gen^l. Morgan on this subject, who said, a plan was in contemplation to extend a Road from Winchester to the Western Waters, to avoid if possible an interference with any other State." It is to be observed that this was a polite way of saying that the road in contemplation must be wholly in Virginia, which was the only state to be "interfered" with or be benefited. "But I could not discover," Washington adds, "that Either himself, or others, were able to point it out with precision. He [Morgan] seemed to have no doubt but that the Counties of Freder^k., Berkeley & Hampshire would contribute freely towards the extension of the Navigation of Potomack; as well as towards opening a Road from East to West." It should be observed that the only route across the mountains from northwestern Virginia to the Ohio River was Braddock's Road; for this road Washington was a champion in 1758, as against the central route Forbes built straight west from Bedford to Fort Duquesne.[2] Then, however, Braddock's Road, and even Fort Duquesne, was supposed to lie in Virginia. But when the Pennsylvania boundaries were fully outlined it was found that Braddock's Road lay in Pennsylvania. Washington now was seeking a new route to the West which would lie wholly in Virginia. The problem, historically, presents several interesting points which cannot be expanded here. Suffice it to say that Washington was the valiant champion of Braddock's Road until he found it lay wholly in Maryland and Pennsylvania. Gaining no satisfaction from his friends at Berkeley, Washington pushed on to one Captain Stroad's, out fourteen odd miles on the road to Bath. "I held much conversation with him," the traveler records of his visit at Stroad's, "the result ... was,--that there are two Glades which go under the denomination of the Great glades--one, on the Waters of Yohiogany, the other on those of Cheat River; & distinguished by the name of the Sandy Creek Glades.--that the Road to the first goes by the head of Patterson's Creek[3]--that from the acc^{ts}. he has had of it, it is rough; the distance he knows not.--that there is a way to the Sandy Creek Glades from the great crossing of Yohiogany (or Braddocks Road) [Smithfield, Pennsylvania] & a very good one; ..." At the town of Bath Washington met one Colonel Bruce who had traversed the country between the North Branch (as that tributary of the Potomac was widely known) and the Monongahela. "From Col^o. Bruce ... I was informed that he had travelled from the North Branch of Potomack to the Waters of Yaughiogany, and Monongahela--that the Potom^k. where it may be made Navigable--for instance where McCulloughs path crosses it, 40 Miles above the old fort [Cumberland], is but about 6 Miles to a pretty large branch of the Yohiogany ...--that the Waters of Sandy Creek which is a branch of cheat River, which is a branch of Monongahela, interlocks with these; and the Country between, flat--that he thinks (in order to ev^d. [evade] passing through the State of Pennsylvania) this would be an eligible Road using the ten Miles C^k. with a portage to the Navigable Waters of the little Kanhawa; ..." This was the basis of Washington's plan of internal communication from Potomac; he now pressed forward to find if it were possible to connect the Youghiogheny and North Branch of the Potomac, the Youghiogheny and Monongahela, and the Monongahela and Little Kanawha. Of course the plan was impossible, but the patient man floundered on through the foothills and mountains over what was approximately the course mentioned, the "McCullough's Path" and Sandy Creek route from the Potomac to the Monongahela. In his explorations he found and traversed one of the earliest routes westward through this broken country immediately south of the well known resorts, Oakland and Deer Park, on the Baltimore and Ohio Railway. This was the "McCullough's" Path already mentioned. Having ascended the Monongahela River from near Brownsville, Pennsylvania, Washington, on September 24, arrived at a surveyor's office (the home of one Pierpoint) eight miles southward along the dividing ridge between the Monongahela and Cheat Rivers.[4] On the twenty-fifth--after a meeting with various inhabitants of the vicinity--he went plunging eastward toward the North Branch of the Potomac "along the New Road [which intersected Braddock's Road east of Winding Ridge] to Sandy Creek; & thence by McCullochs path to Logstons [on the North Branch of the Potomac] and accordingly set of [off] before Sunrise. Within 3 Miles I came to the river Cheat ab^t. 7 Miles from its Mouth--.... The Road from Morgan Town or Monongahela C^t. House, is said to be good to this ferry [Ice's]--distance ab^{t}. 6 Miles[5] ... from the ferry the Laurel Hill[6] is assended ... along the top of it the Road continues.... After crossing this hill the road is very good to the ford of Sandy Creek at one James Spurgeons,[7] ... ab^t. 15 Miles from Ice's ferry. At the crossing of this Creek McCullocks path, which owes its origen to Buffaloes, being no other than their tracks from one lick to another & consequently crooked & not well chosen, strikes off from the New Road.... From Spurgeon's to one Lemons, which is a little to the right of McCullochs path, is reckoned 9 Miles, and the way not bad; but from Lemons to the entrance of the Yohiogany glades[8] which is estimated 9 Miles more thro' a deep rich Soil ... and what is called the briery Mountain.[9] ... At the entrance of the above glades I lodged this night, with no other shelter or cover than my cloak. & was unlucky enough to have a heavy shower of Rain.... 26^{th}.... passing along a small path ... loaded with Water ... we had an uncomfortable travel to one Charles friends[10] about 10 Miles.... A Mile before I came to Friends, I crossed the great Branch of Yohiogany.... Friend ... is a great Hunter.... From Friends I passed by a spring (distant 3 Miles) called Archy's from a Man of that name--crossed the backbone[11] & descended into Ryans glade.[12]--Thence by Tho^s. Logston's ... to the foot of the backbone, about 5 Miles ... across the Ridge to Ryans glade one mile and half ...--to Joseph Logstons 1-1/2 Miles ...--to the N^o. Branch at McCullochs path 2 Miles[13]--infamous road--and to Tho^s. Logstons 4 more.... 27th. I left M^r. Logston's ...--at ten Miles I had ... gained the summit of the Alligany Mountain[14] and began to desend it where it is very steep and bad to the Waters of Pattersons Creek ... along the heads of these [tributaries], & crossing the Main [Patterson's] Creek & Mountain bearing the same name[15] (on the top of which at one Snails I dined) I came to Col^o. Abrah^m. Hites at Fort pleasant on the South Branch[16] about 35 Miles from Logstons a little before the Suns setting. My intention, when I set out from Logstons, was to take the Road to Rumney [Romney] by one Parkers but learning from my guide (Joseph Logston) when I came to the parting paths at the foot of the Alligany[17] (ab^t. 12 Miles) that it was very little further to go by Fort pleasant, I resolved to take that Rout ... to get information...." This extract from Washington's journal gives us the most complete information obtainable of a region of country concerning which it is difficult to secure even present-day information. The drift of the pioneer tide had been on north and south lines here; the first-comers into these mountains wandered up the Monongahela and Youghiogheny Rivers and their tributaries. Even as early as the Old French War a few bold companies of men had sifted into the dark valleys of the Cheat and Youghiogheny.[18] That it was a difficult country to reach is proved by the fact that certain early adventurers in this region were deserters from Fort Pitt. They were safe here! A similar movement up the two branches of the Potomac had created a number of settlements there--far up where the waters ran clear and swift amid the mountain fogs. But there had been less communication on east and west lines. It is easy to assume that McCulloch's path was the most important route across the ragged ridges, from one glade and valley to another. It is entirely probable that the New Road, to which Washington refers, was built for some distance on the buffalo trace which (though the earlier route) branched from the New Road. An old path ran eastward from Dunkard's Bottom of which Washington says: "... being ... discouraged ... from attempting to return [to the Potomac] by the way of Dunkars Bottom, as the path it is said is very blind & exceedingly grown up with briers, I resolved to try the other Rout, along the New Road ..." as quoted on page 21. The growth of such towns as Cumberland and Morgantown had made a demand for more northerly routes. The whole road-building idea in these parts in the last quarter of the eighteenth century was to connect the towns that were then springing into existence, especially Morgantown and Clarksburg with Cumberland. Washington's dream of a connected waterway was, of course, hopelessly chimerical, and after him no one pushed the subject of a highway of any kind between the East and the West through Virginia. Washington's own plans materialized in the Potomac Navigation Company, and his highway, that should be a strong link in the chain of Federal Union between the improved Potomac and the Ohio, became the Cumberland Road; and it ran just where he did not care to see it--through Maryland and Pennsylvania. Yet it accomplished his first high purpose of welding the Union together, and was a fruit of that patriotic letter to Governor Harrison written a few days after Washington pushed his way through the wet paths of the Cheat and Youghiogheny Valleys in 1784. These first routes across the mountains south of the Cumberland Road--in Virginia--were, as noted, largely those of wild beasts. "It has been observed before," wrote Washington in recapitulation, "to what fortuitous circumstances the paths of this Country owe their being, & how much the ways may be better chosen by a proper investigation of it; ..." In many instances the new roads built hereabouts in later days were shorter than the earlier courses; however it remains true here, as elsewhere, that the strategic geographical positions were found by the buffalo and Indian, and white men have followed them there unwaveringly with turnpike and railway. When Washington crossed the North Branch of the Potomac on the 26th of October, 1784 at "McCullochs crossing," he was on the track of what should be, a generation later, the Virginian highway across the Appalachian system into the Ohio Basin. Oddly enough Virginia had done everything, it may truthfully be said, toward building Braddock's Road to the Ohio in 1755, and, in 1758, had done as much as any colony toward building Forbes's Road. All told, Virginia had accomplished more in the way of road-building into the old Central West by 1760 than all other colonies put together. Yet, as it turned out, not one inch of either of these great thoroughfares lay in Virginia territory when independence was secured and the individual states began their struggle for existence in those "critical" after-hours. These buffalo paths through her western mountains were her only routes; they coursed through what was largely an uninhabited region, and which remains such today. Yet it was inevitable that a way should be hewn here through Virginia to the Ohio; the call from the West, the hosts of pioneers, the need of a state way of communication, all these and more, made it sure that a Virginia Turnpike should cross the mountains. Before that day arrived the Cumberland Road was proposed, built, and completed, not only to the Ohio River, but almost to the western boundary of the state of Ohio; its famous successor of another generation, the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, was undertaken in 1825. These movements stirred northern Virginians to action and on the twenty-seventh of February, 1827, the General Assembly passed an act "to incorporate the North-western Road Company." Sections 1, 3, 4, and 5 of this Act are as follows: "1. _Be it enacted by the General Assembly of Virginia_, That books shall be opened at the town of Winchester, in Frederick county, under the direction of Josiah Lockhart, William Wood, George S. Lane, Abraham Miller, and Charles Brent, or any two of them; at Romney, in Hampshire county, under the direction of William Naylor, William Donaldson, John M'Dowell, Robert Sherrard, and Thomas Slane, or any two of them; at Moorfield, in Hardy county, under the direction of Isaac Van Meter, Daniel M'Neil, Benjamin Fawcett, Samuel M'Machen, and John G. Harness, or any two of them; at Beverly, in Randolph county, under the direction of Eli Butcher, Squire Bosworth, Jonas Crane, Andrew Crawford, and William Cooper, or any two of them; at Kingwood, in Preston county, under the direction of William Sigler, William Johnson, William Price, Charles Byrne, and Thomas Brown, or any two of them; at Pruntytown, in Harrison county, under the direction of Abraham Smith, Frederick Burdett, Thomas Gethrop, Cornelius Reynolds, and Stephen Neill, or any two of them; at Clarksburg, in Harrison county, under the direction of John L. Sehon, John Sommerville, John Webster, Jacob Stealy, and Phineas Chapin, or any two of them; and at Parkersburg, in Wood county, under the direction of Jonas Beason, Joseph Tomlinson, Tillinghast Cook, James H. Neal, and Abraham Samuels, or any two of them, for purpose of receiving subscriptions to a capital stock of seventy-five thousand dollars, in shares of twenty dollars, to be appropriated to the making of a road from Winchester to some proper place on the Ohio river, between the mouths of Muskingum, and Little Kanawha rivers, according to the provisions of this act.... "3. The proceedings of the first general meeting of the stockholders, shall be preserved with subsequent proceedings of the company, all of which shall be entered of record in well bound books to be kept for that purpose: And from and after the first appointment of directors, the said responsible subscribers, their heirs and assigns, shall be, and they are hereby declared to be, a body politic and corporate, by the name of 'The North western Road Company;' ... "4. It shall be the duty of the Principal Engineer of the State, as soon as existing engagements will permit, to prescribe such plans or schemes for making the whole road, or the several parts or sections thereof, as he shall think best calculated to further its most proper and speedy completion, and to locate and graduate the same, or part or parts thereof, from time to time, make estimates of the probable cost of making each five miles, (or any shorter sections,) so located and graduated, and to make report thereof to the Board of Public Works at such time or times as shall be convenient. "5. The said president and directors shall, from time to time, make all contracts necessary for the completion of the said road, and shall require from subscribers equal advances and payments on their shares, and they shall have power to compel payments by the sale of delinquent shares, in such a manner as shall be prescribed by their by-laws, and transfer the same to purchasers: _Provided_, That if any subscriber shall at any time be a contractor for making any part of the said road, or in any other manner become a creditor of the company, he shall be entitled to a proper set-off in the payment of his stock, or any requisition made thereon...."[19] A mistake which doomed these plans to failure was in arbitrarily outlining a road by way of the important towns without due consideration of the nature of the country between them. The mountains were not to be thus mocked; even the buffalo had not found an east and west path here easily. As noted, the towns where subscriptions were opened were Winchester, Romney, Moorefield, Beverly, Kingwood, Pruntytown, Clarksburg, and Parkersburg. When the engineers got through Hampshire County by way of Mill Creek Gap in Mill Creek Mountain and on into Preston County, insurmountable obstacles were encountered and it was reported that the road would never reach Kingwood. From that moment the North-western Road Company stock began to languish; only the intervention of the state saved the enterprise. However, in 1831, a new and very remarkable act was passed by the Virginia Assembly organizing a road company that stands unique in a road-building age. This was "An act to provide for the construction of a turnpike road from Winchester to some point on the Ohio river." The governor was made president of the company and he with the treasurer, attorney-general, and second auditor constituted the board of directors. The 1st, 2d, and 4th sections of this interesting law are as follows: "1. _Be it enacted by the general assembly_, That the governor, treasurer, attorney general, and second auditor of the commonwealth for the time being, and their successors, are hereby constituted a body politic and corporate, under the denomination of 'The President and Directors of the North-Western Turnpike Road,' with power to sue and be sued, plead and be impleaded, and to hold lands and tenements, goods and chattels, and the same to sell, dispose of, or improve, in trust for the commonwealth, for the purposes hereinafter mentioned. And three of the said commissioners shall constitute a board for the transaction of such business as is hereby entrusted to them; of which board, when present, the governor shall be president: And they shall have power to appoint a clerk from without their own body, and make such distribution of their duties among themselves respectively, and such rules and regulations ... as to them may seem necessary.... "2. _Be it further enacted_, That the said president and directors of the North-Western turnpike road be, and they are hereby empowered as soon as may be necessary for the purposes herein declared, to borrow on the credit of the state, a sum or sums of money not exceeding one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, and at a rate of interest not exceeding six per centum per annum.... "4. _Be it further enacted_, That the said president and directors, out of the money hereby authorized to be borrowed, shall cause to be constructed a road from the town of Winchester, in the county of Frederick, to some point on the Ohio river, to be selected by the principal engineer. And for the purpose aforesaid, the principal engineer, as soon as may be after the passage of this act, shall proceed to lay out and locate the said road from the points above designated. He shall graduate the said road in such manner that the acclivity or declivity thereof shall in no case exceed five degrees. The width of the said road may be varied, so that it shall not exceed eighteen feet, nor be less than twelve feet. Through level ground it shall be raised in the middle one-twenty-fourth part of its breadth, but in passing along declivities it may be flat. Bridges, side ditches, gutters, and an artificial bed of stone or gravel, shall be dispensed with, except in such instances as the said principal engineer may deem them necessary...."[20] Other sections stipulated that the state had the right to survey any and all routes the engineers desired to examine, and that persons suffering by loss of land or otherwise could, if proper application was made within one year, secure justice in the superior or county courts; that the company appoint a superintendent who should have in charge the letting of contracts after such were approved by the company; that, as each stretch of twenty miles was completed, toll gates could be erected thereon, where usual tolls could be collected by the company's agents, the total sum collected to be paid into the state treasury; that the company had the right to erect bridges, or in case a ferry was in operation, to make the ferryman keep his banks and boats in good condition; that the company make annual reports to the State Board of Public Works; and that the road be forever a public highway. The roadway was now soon built. Not dependent upon the stock that might be taken in the larger towns, the road made peace with the mountains and was built through the southern part of Preston County in 1832, leaving Kingwood some miles to the north. Evansville was located in 1833, and owes its rise to the great road. The route of the road is through Hampshire, Mineral, Grant, Garrett, Preston, Taylor, Harrison, Doddridge, Ritchie, and Wood Counties, all West Virginia save Garrett which is in Maryland. Important as the route became to the rough, beautiful country which it crossed, it never became of national importance. Being started so late in the century, the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, which was completed to Cumberland in 1845, stopped in large part the busy scenes of the Old Northwestern Turnpike. Yet to the historic inquirer the old turnpike, so long forgotten by the outside world, lies where it was built; and can fairly be said to be a monument of the last of those stirring days when Virginia planned to hold the West in fee. Hundreds of residents along this road recall the old days with intense delight. True, the vast amount of money spent on the Cumberland Road was not spent on its less renowned rival to the south, but the Cumberland Road was given over to the states through which it ran; and, in many instances, was so neglected that it was as poor a road as some of its less pretentious rivals. A great deal of business of a national character was done on the Northwestern Turnpike. Parkersburg became one of the important entrepôts in the Ohio Valley; as early as 1796, we shall soon see, a pioneer traversing the country through which the Northwestern Turnpike's predecessor coursed, speaks of an awakening in the Monongahela Valley that cannot be considered less than marvelous. Taking it through the years, few roads have remained of such constant benefit to the territory into which they ran, and today you will be told that no railway has benefited that mountainous district so much as this great thoroughfare. But in a larger sense than any merely local one, Virginia counted on the Northwestern Turnpike to bind the state and connect its eastern metropolis with the great Ohio Valley. Virginia had given up, on demand, her great county of Kentucky when the wisdom of that movement was plain; at the call of the Nation, she had surrendered the title her soldiers had given her to Illinois and the beautifully fertile Scioto Valley in Ohio. But after these great cessions she did not lose the rich Monongahela country. It had been explored by her adventurers, settled by her pioneers--and Virginia held dear to her heart her possessions along the upper Ohio. In the days when the Northwestern Turnpike was created by legislative act, canals were not an assured success, and railways were only being dreamed of. And the promoters of canals and railways were considered insane when they hinted that the mountains could be conquered by these means of transportation. With all the vast need for improvements, the genius of mankind had never created anything better than the road and the cart; what hope was there that now suddenly America should surprise the world by overthrowing the axioms of the centuries past? And so, in the correct historical analysis, the Northwestern Turnpike must be considered Virginia's attempt to compete successfully with Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New York, in securing for herself a commanding portion of the trade of the West. In all the legislative history of the origin of the Northwestern Turnpike, it is continually clear that its origin was of more than local character. It was actually the last roadway built from the seaboard to the West in the hope of securing commercial superiority; and its decline and decay marks the end of pioneer road-building across the first great American "divide." In a moment the completion of the Erie Canal assured the nation that freight could be transported for long distances at one-tenth the cost that had prevailed on the old land highways. Soon after, the completion of the Pennsylvania Canal proved that the canal could successfully mount great heights--and Virginia forgot her roads in her interest in canals. CHAPTER II A JOURNEY IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA Thomas Wallcutt of Massachusetts served through the Revolutionary War as hospital steward and received in payment therefor one share in the Ohio Company.[21] He went out to Marietta in 1790, and returned eastward by the half-known Virginia route. His _Journal_[22] forms an interesting chapter of travel on American pioneer roads: "Monday, 8 March, 1790.[23] Pleasant, clear, cold, and high winds. We were up before sunrise, and got some hot breakfast, coffee and toast; and Captain Prince, Mr. Moody, Mr. Skinner, Captain Mills and brother, Mr. Bent, &c., accompanied us over the river[24] to Sargent's or Williams's, and took leave of us about nine o'clock, and we proceeded on our journey. We had gone but a little way when we found the path[25] so blind that we could not proceed with certainty, and I was obliged to go back and get a young man to come and show us the way. When we had got back to our companions again, they had found the road, and we walked twenty miles this day. Weather raw, chilly, and a little snow. The country after about five or six miles from the Ohio is very broken and uneven, with high and sharp hills. "Tuesday, 9 March, 1790. The weather for the most part of the day pleasant, but cold winds, northerly. The country very rough, the hills high and sharp.[26] One third of the road must go over and on the ridges, and another third through the valleys. We walked this day about twenty-three or twenty-four miles, and slept near the forty-fourth or forty-fifth mile tree. "Wednesday, 10 March, 1790. Weather raw and moist. To-day we crossed several of the large creeks and waters that fall into the Ohio. This occasioned a loss of much time, waiting for the horse to come over for each one, which he did as regularly as a man would. The country much the same, but rather better to-day, except that a great deal of the road runs along through the streams, and down the streams such a length with the many bridges that will be wanted, that it will be a vast expense, besides the risk and damage of being carried away every year by the floods. We had so much trouble in crossing these streams that at last we forded on foot. One of the largest in particular, after we had rode it several times, we waded it four or five times almost knee-deep, and after that a number of times on logs, or otherwise, without going in water. Two of the streams, I doubt not, we crossed as often as twenty times each. We walked this day about fifteen miles. "Thursday, 11 March, 1790. With much fatigue and pain in my left leg, we walked about fifteen miles to-day. They all walked better than I, and had got to Carpenter's and had done their dinner about two o'clock when I arrived. They appear to be good farmers and good livers, have a good house, and seem very clever people. Mr. C. is gone down the country. They have been a frontier here for fifteen years, and have several times been obliged to move away. I got a dish of coffee and meat for dinner, and paid ninepence each, for the doctor and me. We set off, and crossed the west branch of the Monongahela over to Clarksburgh. The doctor paid his own ferriage. We went to Major Robinson's, and had tea and meat, &c., for supper. I paid ninepence each, for the doctor and me. Weather dull and unpleasant, as yesterday. "Friday, 12 March, 1790. Weather good and pleasant to-day. We set off before sunrise and got a little out of our road into the Morgantown road, but soon got right again. We breakfasted at Webb's mill, a good house and clever folks. Had coffee, meat, &c.; paid sixpence each, for me and the doctor. Lodged at Wickware's, who says he is a Yankee, but is a very disagreeable man for any country, rough and ugly, and he is very dear. I paid one shilling apiece for the doctor's and my supper, upon some tea made of mountain birch, perhaps black birch, stewed pumpkin, and sodden meat. Appetite supplies all deficiencies. "Saturday, 13 March, 1790. Beautiful weather all day. Set off not so early this morning as yesterday. The doctor paid his ferriage himself. Mr. Moore, a traveller toward his home in Dunker's Bottom, Fayette County, Pennsylvania, [?] set out with us. He seems a very mild, good-natured, obliging old gentleman, and lent me his horse to ride about two miles, while he drove his pair of steers on foot. The doctor and I being both excessively fatigued, he with a pain in his knee, and mine in my left leg, but shifting about, were unable to keep up with our company, and fell much behind them. Met Mr. Carpenter on his return home. He appears to be a very clever man. When we had come to Field's, I found Mr. Dodge had left his horse for us to ride, and to help us along, which we could not have done without. We got a dish of tea without milk, some dried smoked meat and hominy for dinner; and from about three o'clock to nine at night, got to Ramsay's. Seven miles of our way were through a new blazed path where they propose to cut a new road. We got out of this in good season, at sundown or before dark, into the wagon road, and forded Cheat River on our horses. Tea, meat, &c., for supper. Old Simpson and Horton, a constable, had a terrible scuffle here this evening. "Lord's Day, 14 March, 1790. Mr. Dodge is hurrying to go away again. I tell him I must rest to-day. I have not written anything worth mention in my journal since I set out, until to-day, and so must do it from memory. I want to shave a beard seven days old, and change a shirt about a fortnight dirty; and my fatigue makes rest absolutely necessary. So take my rest this day, whether he has a mind to go or stay with us. Eat very hearty of hominy or boiled corn with milk for breakfast, and boiled smoked beef and pork for dinner, with turnips. After dinner shaved and shirted me, which took till near night, it being a dark house, without a bit of window, as indeed there is scarce a house on this road that has any. "Monday, 15 March, 1790. Waited and got some tea for breakfast, before we set out. Settled with Ramsay, and paid him 9_d._ per meal, for five meals, and half-pint whiskey 6_d._ The whole came to eight shillings. Weather very pleasant most of the day. We walked to Brien's about half-past six o'clock, which they call twenty-four miles. We eat a little fried salt pork and bit of venison at Friends',[27] and then crossed the great Youghiogeny. About two miles further on, we crossed the little _ditto_ at Boyles's.... We walked about or near an hour after dark, and were very agreeably surprised to find ourselves at Brien's instead of Stackpole's, which is four miles further than we expected. Eat a bit of Indian bread, and the woman gave us each about half a pint of milk to drink, which was all our supper. "Tuesday, 16 March, 1790. We were up this morning, and away about or before sunrise, and ascended the backbone of the Alleghany, and got breakfast at Williams's. I cannot keep up with my company. It took me till dark to get to Davis's. Messers. Dodge and Proctor had gone on before us about three miles to Dawson's. We got some bread and butter and milk for supper, and drank a quart of cider. Mr. Davis was originally from Ashford, county of Windham, Connecticut; has been many years settled in this country; has married twice, and got many children. His cider in a brown mug seemed more like home than any thing I have met with. "Wednesday, 17 March. We were up this morning before day, and were set off before it was cleverly light. Got to Dawson's, three miles, where Messers. D. & P. lodged, and got some tea for breakfast, and set off in good season, the doctor and I falling behind. As it is very miry, fatiguing walking, and rainy, which makes extremely painful walking in the clay and mud, we could not keep up with D. We stopped about a mile and a half from the Methodist meeting near the cross roads at Cressops, and four from Cumberland, and got some fried meat and eggs, milk, butter, &c., for dinner, which was a half pistareen each. After dinner the doctor and I walked into Cumberland village about three o'clock, and put up at Herman Stitcher's or Stidger's. We called for two mugs of cider, and got tea, bread and butter, and a boiled leg of fresh young pork for supper. The upper part of the county of Washington has lately been made a separate county, and called Alleghany, as it extends over part of that mountain, and reaches to the extreme boundary of Maryland. The courts, it is expected, will be fixed and held at this place, Cumberland, which will probably increase its growth, as it thrives pretty fast already. We supped and breakfasted here; paid 2_s._ for each, the doctor and me. Pleasant fine weather this day. My feet exceedingly sore, aching, throbbing, and beating. I cannot walk up with my company. "Thursday, 18 March. Paid Mr. Dodge 6_s._ advance. A very fine day. We stayed and got breakfast at Stitcher's, and walked from about eight o'clock to twelve, to Old Town, and dined at Jacob's, and then walked to Dakins's to lodge, where we got a dish of Indian or some other home coffee, with a fry of chicken and other meat for supper. This is the first meal I have paid a shilling L. M. for. The country very much broken and hilly, sharp high ridges, and a great deal of pine. About ... miles from Old Town, the north and south branches of the Potomac join. We walked twenty-five miles to-day. "Friday, 19 March, 1790. Very fine weather again to-day. We walked twenty-four miles to McFarren's in Hancock, and arrived there, sun about half an hour high. McFarren says this town has been settled about ten or twelve years, and is called for the man who laid it out or owned it, and not after Governor Hancock. It is a small but growing place of about twenty or thirty houses, near the bank of the Potomac, thirty-five miles below Old Town, and five below Fort Cumberland; twenty-four above Williamsport, and ninety-five above Georgetown. We slept at McFarren's, a so-so house. He insisted on our sleeping in beds, and would not permit sleeping on the floors. We all put our feet in soak in warm water this evening. It was recommended to us by somebody on the road, and I think they feel the better for it. "Saturday, 20 March. A very fine day again. We have had remarkably fine weather on this journey hitherto. But two days we had any rain, and then but little. We stayed and got breakfast at McFarren's, and set out about eight o'clock, and walked about twenty-one miles this day to Thompson's, about half a mile from Buchanan's in the Cove Gap in the North Mountain. My feet do not feel quite so bad this day, as they have some days. I expect they are growing stronger and fitter for walking every day, though it has cost me a great deal of pain, throbbing, beating, and aching to bring them to it. It seems the warm water last night did me some good. "Lord's Day, 21 March, 1790. Up and away before sunrise, and walked to breakfast to McCracken's. He has been an officer in the continental army. I find it will not do for me to try any longer to keep up with my company, and as they propose going through Reading, and we through Philadelphia, we must part to-night or to-morrow. I conclude to try another seven miles, and if I cannot keep up, we part at Semple's, the next stage. They got to Semple's before me, and waited for me. I conclude to stay and dine here, and part with Messrs. Proctor and Dodge. I am so dirty; my beard the ninth day old, and my shirt the time worn, that I cannot with any decency or comfort put off the cleaning any longer. I again overhauled the letters, as I had for security and care taken all into my saddle-bags. I sorted them and gave Mr. Dodge his, with what lay more direct in his way to deliver, and took some from him for Boston and my route. "I paid Mr. Dodge three shillings more in addition to six shillings I had paid him before at the Widow Carrel's, according to our agreement at twelve shillings to Philadelphia; and as we had gone together and he had carried our packs three hundred miles (wanting two), it was near the matter. He supposed I should do right to give him a shilling more. I told him as I had agreed with him at the rate of fifty pounds, when they did not weigh above thirty-five, and at the rate of going up to Pitt instead of returning, which is but half price, I thought it was a generous price, and paid him accordingly as by agreement. We wished each other a good journey, and Mr. Proctor, the doctor, and I drank a cup of cider together. When we had got cleaned, a wagoner came along very luckily, and dined with us, and going our way, we put our packs in his wagon, and rode some to help. We gave him a quarter of a dollar for this half day and tomorrow. We got to Carlisle in the evening and put up with Adam at Lutz's. "This Carlisle is said to be extremely bad in wet weather. It probably is nearly & quite as bad as Pittsburg, Marietta, Albany. I went to Lutz's because Adam puts up there, he being of his nation, but it is a miserable house, and Adam says he is sorry he carried us there. The victuals are good, but they are dirty, rough, impolite. We supped on bread and milk, and Lutz would insist on our sleeping in a bed and not on the floor; so we did so. "Tuesday, 23 March, 1790. A pleasant day and the roads very much dried, so that the travelling is now comfortable. We dined at Callender's in more fashion than since I left home. Adam stopped at Simpson's so long that it was dark when we got over the river to Chambers's, where we stopped another half hour. Set off about seven o'clock, and got to Foot's about eleven. All abed, but Adam got us a bit of bread and butter, and made us a fire in the stove, and we lay on the floor. "Wednesday, 24 March, 1790. Old Foot is a crabbed.... He has been scolding and swearing at Adam all this morning about something that I cannot understand. It has rained last night, and the roads are again intolerable. Adam says he cannot go again until his father says the word, and that may not be this two or three days. But we cannot go and carry our packs on our backs now, the roads are so bad, and we should gain nothing to walk, but spend our strength to little or no purpose. We must wait for a wagon to go along our way, and join it, or wait for the roads to grow better. "Carried our dirty things to wash; two shirts, two pairs stockings, and one handkerchief for me; two shirts, two pair stockings, and one pair trowsers for the doctor. Went to several places to look for shoes for the doctor. He could not fit himself at the shoemakers, and bought a pair in a store for 8_s._ 4_d._ Pennsylvania, or 6_s._ 8_d._ our currency. He went to Henry Moore's, the sign of the two Highlanders. I drank a quart of beer and dined. Old Foot is a supervisor, and is gone to Harrisburg to-day, to settle some of his business. "Thursday, 25 March, 1790. The sun rises and shines out so bright to-day that I am in hopes the roads will be better, at least, when we go. Old Foot could not finish his business yesterday, and is gone again to-day. He is uncertain when he shall send Adam forward to Philadelphia, perhaps not until Monday. It will not do for us to stay, if we can somehow get along sooner. Time hangs heavy on our hands, but we do what we can to kill it. The doctor and I went down to Moore's and dined together, which was a shilling L. M. apiece. We then came back to Foot's and drank a pint of cider-royal together. The house is for the most part of the day filled with Germans, who talk much, but we cannot understand them. We have coffee and toast, or meat for breakfast, and mush and milk for supper. Our time is spent in the most irksome manner possible; eating and drinking, and sleeping and yawning, and attending to the conversation of these Dutch. In the evening the house is crowded with the neighbors, &c., and for the ... Old Foot says, and Adam too, that he will not go till Monday. This is very discouraging. "Friday, 26 March, 1790. A very dull prospect to-day. It rained very hard in the night, and continues to rain this morning. No wagons are passing, and none coming that we can hear of. We have no prospect now but to stay and go with Adam on Monday. We stay at home to-day and murder our time. We read McFingal, or Ballads, or whatever we can pick up. We had coffee and toast and fresh fried veal for breakfast, and ate heartily, and so we eat no dinner. The doctor goes out and buys us 8_d._ worth of cakes, and we get a half-pint of whiskey, which makes us a little less sad. In comes a man to inquire news, &c., of two men from Muskingum. He had heard Thompson's report, which had made so much noise and disquiet all through the country. He had three Harrisburg papers with him, which give us a little relief in our dull and unwelcome situation. At dark there come in two men with a wagon and want lodging, &c. They stay this night, and with them we find an opportunity of going forward as far as Lancaster, which we are determined to embrace. "Saturday, 27 March, 1790. We stay and get a good breakfast before we set out, and agree to give Mr. Bailey 2_s._ L. M. for carrying our baggage. This is higher than anything it has cost us on the road in proportion, but we cannot help it. It is better than to waste so much time in a tavern. It rains steadily, and the road is all mush and water. Before I get on a hundred rods I am half-leg deep in mire. Set off about eight o'clock, and overtook the wagon about two miles ahead. However, it clears off before night, and the sun shines warm, and the roads mend fast. We made a stay in Elizabethtown about two hours to feed and rest. The doctor and I had two quarts of beer and some gingerbread and buckwheat cakes for dinner. We got to Colonel Pedens to lodge, which is eighteen miles through an intolerable bad road, to-day. (Elizabethtown, about fifty houses; Middletown, about an hundred houses.) We paid our landlady this evening, as we are to start so early in the morning it would not do to wait till the usual time of getting up to pay then, and we have got nine miles to go to reach Lancaster. "Lord's Day, 28 March, 1790. We started this morning at day dawn, and got to ---- at the Black Horse, four and a half miles to breakfast. The wagon went by us, and fed at Shoop's. I left the doctor with them and to take care of the things, and walked into the town before them. Stopped at Gross's, the Spread Eagle, and left word for the doctor, which they never told him. I heard the bell ring for church just as I got here, which made me go into town after waiting some time for them. Took leave of Mr. Bailey, &c. I went to the English Episcopal Church, and then went back to look for the doctor, and he looking for me; we were some time in chase, and missed each other. Found we could not get served at the Angel, so took our baggage and walked down to Doersh's, who keeps the stage. Got dinner here. Shaved, shirted, put on my boots, and went out into town. Stopped at the court-house and heard a Methodist. Walked further about; stopped and looked into the Catholic chapel, and talked with the priest. Looked into the churches, such as I could, and returned to tea at sundown. Spent the remainder of the time till bed reading newspapers. Washed my feet and went to bed just before ten. "Monday, 29 March, 1790. After breakfast the doctor and I took a ramble about the town, to look at it and to inquire if we could find any wagon going to Philadelphia, that we can get our baggage carried. The most likely place we can hear of is to go to the Creek, about a mile from town. Immediately after our walk we settled and paid, and set out at just eleven o'clock. Paid toll over Conestoga bridge, and stopped at Locher's, at the Indian King, two miles from Lancaster, and drank a quart of beer. It was not good. Dined at Blesser's, on a cold meal, which was 8_d._ L. M. apiece. Got to Hamilton's at Salsbury, a very good house; nineteen miles. This is more than I expected when I set out at eleven o'clock. A very good supper; rye mush and milk, cold corn beef, and apple pie on the table. But 8_d._ L. M. for supper and lodging apiece. We have had very good weather for travelling, and the roads are drying fast. In hopes that we shall find some wagon going on the Philadelphia road, that we may get our packs carried part of the way. "Tuesday, 30 March, 1790. We walked twenty-four miles this day, that is, from Hamilton's to Fahnstock's. Very pleasant weather, suitable for travelling; not too warm nor too cold. My feet very tender and sore, but we keep along steady. Got to Fahnstock's, Admiral Warren, about eight o'clock. Got some bread and milk for supper. The doctor had nothing but a pint of cider for his supper. We slept well, considering my being excessively fatigued. The post overtook us. "Wednesday, 31 March. Stayed to breakfast this morning, which was very good, but I do not like the practice, at least I do not seem to need eating meat with breakfast every morning. I sometimes eat it two or three times a day because it is set before me, and it is the fashion to have meat always on the table. We dined about seven miles from Philadelphia; crossed the Schuylkill about sunset, and walked into town about dark. Crossed the Schuylkill over the floating bridge, and paid our toll, 1_d._ Pennsylvania each." CHAPTER III A PILGRIM ON BRADDOCK'S ROAD A yellow letter, almost in tatters, lies before me written by one Samuel Allen to his father, Mr. Jason Allen of Montville, New London County, Connecticut, from Bellville, Virginia,[28] November 15, 1796. Bellville is in Wood County, West Virginia, eighteen miles by the Ohio River from Parkersburg. This letter, describing a journey from Alexandria and Cumberland to the Ohio by way of "broadaggs [Braddock's] old road," gives a picture of certain of the more pathetic phases of the typical emigrant's experience unequaled by any account we have met in print. Incidentally, there is included a mention of the condition of the road and, what is of more interest, a clear glimpse into the Ohio Valley when the great rush of pioneers had begun after the signing of the Treaty of Greenville, the year before, which ended the Indian War. "Bellville W. Va November the 15^{th} 1796. "Honoured Parents Six months is allmost gone since I left N. London [New London, Connecticut] & not a word have I heard from you or any of the family I have not heard wheather you are dead or alive, sick or well. When I heard that Mr. Backus had got home I was in hopes of recieving a letter by him. but his brother was here the other day and sayes that he left his trunk and left the letters that he had in the trunk, so I am still in hopes of having one yet. There is an opertunity of sending letters once every week only lodge a letter in the post-offis in N. London & in a short time it will be at Belleville. The people that came with me has most all had letters from their friends in New England Mr Avory has had two or three letters from his Brother one in fiften dayes after date all of whitch came by the waye of the male. "General Putnam of Muskingdom [Marietta on the Muskingum] takes the New London papers constantly every week "When we arrived to Allexandria [Alexandria, Virginia] Mr Avory found that taking land cariag from there to the Monongehaly would be less expence then it would be to go any farther up the Potomac & less danger so he hired wagoners to carry the goods across the mountains to Morgantown on the Monongahaly about one hundred miles above Pittsburg Mr Avorys expence in comeing was from N London to Allexndria six dollars each for the passengers and two shillings & six pence for each hundred weight. from Allexandria to Morgantown was thirty two shillings and six pence for each hundred weight of women & goods the men all walked the hole of the way. I walked the hole distance it being allmost three hundred miles and we found the rode to be pritty good untill we came to the Mountaing. crossing the blue Mountain the Monongehaly & the Lorral Mountains we found the roads to be verry bad. "You doubtless remember I rote in my last letter that Prentice was taken ill a day or two before he continued verry much so untill the 10^{th} of July when he began to gro wors the waggoner was hired by the hundred weight & could not stop unless I paid him for the time that he stoped & for the Keeping of the horses that I could not affoard to do So we were obliged to keep on We were now on the Allegany Mountain & a most horrid rode the waggon golted so that I dare not let him ride So I took him in my arms and carried him all the while except once in a while Mr Davis would take him in his armes & carry him a spell to rest me. a young man that Mr Avory hired at Allexandria a joiner whose kindness I shall not forgit he kep all the while with us & spared no panes to assist us in anything & often he would offer himself. our child at this time was verry sick & no medecal assistance could be had on this mountain on the morning of the 13^{th} as we was at breackfast at the house of one Mr Tumblestone [Tomlinson?] the child was taken in a fit our company had gone to the next house to take breakfast which was one mile on our way we were alone in the room & went & asked Mrs Tumblestone to come into the room she said she did not love to see a person in a fitt but she came into the room Polly ask her if she new what was good for a child in a fitt she said no & immediately left the room & shut the door after her & came no more into the room when that fitt left him there came on another no person in the room but Mr Tumblestone who took but little notis of the child tho it was in great distress Polly said she was afraid the child would die in one of them fitts Mr Tumblestone spoke in a verry lite manner and sayes with a smile it will save you the trouble of carrying it any farther if it does die We then bundled up the child and walked to the next house ware we come up with our company I had just seated myself down when the child was taken in a fitt again when that had left it it was immediately taken in another & as that went off we saw another coming on the Man of the house gave it some drops that stoped the fitt he handed me a vial of the dropps--gave directions how to use them the child had no more fitts but seemed to be stuped all day he cried none at all but he kept a whining & scouling all the while with his eyes stared wide open his face and his eyes appeared not to come in shape as before When we took dinner it was six mile to the next house the waggoners said they could not git through thro that night we did not love to stay out for fear our child would die in the woods so we set off & left the waggons I took the child in my arms and we traveled on Mr Davis set off with us & carried the child above half of the time here we traveled up & down the most tedious hills as I ever saw & by nine oclock in the evening we came to the house the child continued stayed all the night the next morning at break of day I heard it make a strange noise I percieved it grew worse I got up and called up the women [who] ware with us the woman of the house got up & in two hours the child dyed Polly was obliged to go rite off as soon as his eyes was closed for the waggoners would not stop I stayed to see the child burried I then went on two of the men that was with me were joiners & had their tools with them they stayed with me & made the coffin Mr Simkins [Simpkins] the man of the house sent his Negroes out & dug the grave whare he had burried several strangers that dyed a crossing the mountain his family all followed the corps to the grave black & white & appeared much affected. "When we returned to the house I asked Mr Simkins to give me his name & the name of the place he asked me the name of the child I told him he took his pen & ink & rote the following lines Alligany County Marriland July the 14^{th} 1796 died John P Allen at the house of John Simkins at atherwayes bear camplain broadaggs old road half way between fort Cumberland & Uniontown.[29] I thanked him for the kindness I had received from him he said I was verry welcome & he was verry sorry for my loss "We then proceeded on our journey & we soon overtook the waggons & that nite we got to the foot of the mountain We came to this mountain on the 11^{th} of the month and got over it the 19^{th} at night We left the city of Allexandria on the Potomac the 30^{th} day of June & arrived at Morgantown on the Monongahely the 18^{th} day of July "Thus my dear pearents you see we are deprived of the child we brought with us & we no not whather the one we left is dead or alive. I beg you to rite & let me no Polly cant bear her name mentioned without shedding tears if she is alive I hope you will spare no panes to give her learning. "When we arrived at Morgantown the river was so lo that boats could not go down but it began to rain the same day that I got ther I was about one mile from there when it began to rain & from the 22^d at night to the 23^d in the morning it raised 16 feet the logs came down the river so that it was dangerous for boats to go & on Sunday the 22^d in the evening the boats set off three waggons had not arrived but the river was loreing so fast that we dare not wate the goods was left with a Merchant in that town to be sent when the river rises they have not come on yet one of my barrels & the brass Cittle is yet behind "Mr Avory said while he was at Morgantown that Cattle were verry high down the river & them that wanted to by he thought had better by then he purchased some & I bought two cows and three calvs for myself & three cows for Mrs Hemsted & calves & a yoke of three year old stears. The next morning after the Boats sailed I set off by land with the cattle & horses with John Turner & Jonathan Prentice & arrived at Bellvill the 9^{th} of August & found it to be a verry rich & pleasant country We came to the Ohio at Wheeling crick one hundred miles belo Pittsburg & about the same from Morgantown We found the country settled the hole of the way from Morgantown to Wheeling & a verry pleasant road we saw some verry large & beautiful plantations here I saw richer land than I ever saw before large fields of corn & grane of a stout groath From Wheeling to Bellville it is a wilderness for the most of the way except the banks of the river this side----which is one hundred miles we found it verry difficult to get victules to eat. I drove fifty miles with one meal of victules through the wilderness & only a foot path & that was so blind that we was pestered to keep it we could drive but a little wayes in a day whenever night overtook us we would take our blankets & wrap around us & ly down on the ground We found some inhabitance along the river but they came on last spring & had no provisions only what they brought with them "The country is as good as it was represented to be & is seteling verry fast families are continually moveing from other parts into this beautiful country if you would give me all your intrest to go back there to live again it would be no temtation if you should sell your intrest there & lay your money out here in a short time I think you would be worth three or four times so much as you now are. it is incredible to tell the number of boats that goes down this river with familys a man that lives at Redstone Old fort on the Monongehaly says that he saw last spring seventy Boats go past in one day with familys moveing down the Ohio. There is now at this place a number of familys that came since we did from Sesquehanah There is now at this place eighty inhabitance. Corn is going at 2.^s pr bushel by the quantity 2.^s 6-^d by the single bushel. There has been between two & three thousand bushels raised in Bellville this season & all the settlements along the river as raised corn in proportion but the vast number of people that are moveing into this country & depending upon bying makes it scerce & much higher than it would be "There is three double the people that passes by here then there is by your house there is Packets that passes from Pittsburg to Kentucky one from Pittsburg to Wheeling 90 miles one from that to Muskingdom 90 miles One from that to Gallipolees 90 miles the french settlement opisite the big Canawa [Kanawha] & from that there is another to Kentucky----of which goes & returns every week &----loaded with passengers & they carry the male Mammy offered me some cloath for a Jacket & if you would send it by Mr Woodward it would be very exceptible for cloaths is verry high here Common flanel is 6^s per yard & tow cloth is 3^s 9^d the woolves are so thick that sheep cannot be kept without a shephard they often catch our calvs they have got one of mine & one of Mrs Hemstid the latter they caught in the field near the houses I have often ben awoak out of my sleep by the howling of the wolves. "This is a fine place for Eunice they ask 1^s per yard for weaving tow cloth give my respects to Betsey & Eunice & tell them that I hope one of them will come with Mr Woodward when he comes on Horses are very high in this country & if you have not sold mine I should be [glad] if you would try to send him on by Mr. Woodward. I dont think Mr Avory will be there this year or two & anything you would wish to send you nead not be affraid to trust to Mr. Woodwards hands for he is a verry careful & a verry honest man & what he says you may depend upon. "Land is rising verry fast Mr Avory is selling his lots at 36 dollars apeace he has sold three since we came here at that price we was so long a comeing & provisions so verry high that I had not any money left when I got here except what I paid for the cattle I bought I have worked for Mr Avory since I came here to the amount of sixteen dollars I paid him 80 dollars before we left N London I am not in debt to him at preasent or any one else I have sot me up a small house and have lived in it upwards of a fortnight we can sell all our milk and butter milk at 2^d per quart Mr Avory will give me three shillings per day for work all winter & find [furnish] me with victules or 4^s & find myself I need not want for business I think I am worth more then I was when I came We have ben in verry good health ever since we left home. "General St Clair who is now govener of the western teritoryes & General Wilkinson with their Adicongs [Aid-de-camps] attended by a band of soldiers in uniform lodged at Bellvill a few nights ago on their way from headquarters to Philadelphia with Amaracan coulours a flying "Please to give my respects to George & James & tell them that if they want an interest this is the country for them to go to make it Please to except of my kind love to yourselves & respects to all friends who may enquire do give my love to Mr Rogers & family & all my brothers and sisters & our only child Lydia Polly sends her love to you & all her old friends & neighbors Your affectionate son Samuel Allen" The following is a translation of a letter written twelve years after Washington's journey of 1784, by Eric Bollman, a traveler through Dunkard's Bottom, to his brother Lewis Bollman, father of H. L. Bollman of Pittsburg: "From Cumberland we have journeyed over the Alleghany Mountains in company with General Irwin, of Baltimore, who owns some 50,000 acres in this vicinity. The mountains are not so high and not so unproductive as I had imagined them to be. Several points are rocky and barren, such as the Laurel Ridge, but even this with proper attention and ... European cultivation could be made productive. There are proportionately few such ranges as this, and for the greater part, the mountains are covered with fine timber. "We spent the first night at West Port. Up to this point, at the proper seasons, the Potomac is navigable and could be made so quite a distance further. But even in the present state the land journey to the Monongahela, which is navigable and flows into the Ohio, is but a distance of 60 miles.... "The road is not in a bad condition and could be made most excellent. This will, without doubt, be accomplished just as soon as the country is sufficiently inhabited, since there is no nearer way to reach the Western waters. "The next day we dined with Mr. M. McCartin, still higher up in the mountains. There are many settlements in this vicinity. We were entertained in a beautiful, cool, roomy house, surrounded by oat fields and rich meadows, where the sound of the bells told that cattle were pasturing near by. We dined from delicate china, had good knives, good forks, spoons, and other utensils. Our hostess, a bright, handsome, healthy woman, waited upon us. After dinner, a charming feminine guest arrived on horseback; a young girl from the neighboring farm, of perhaps 15 years of age, with such bashful eyes and such rosy cheeks, so lovely and attractive in manner that even Coopley, our good mathematician, could not restrain his admiration. "This is the 'backwoods' of America, which the Philadelphian is pleased to describe as a rough wilderness--while in many parts of Europe, in Westphalia, in the whole of Hungary and Poland, nowhere, is there a cottage to be found, which, taking all things together in consideration of the inhabitant, can be compared with the one of which I have just written. "Four miles from this we reached the Glades, one of the most remarkable features of these mountains and this land. These are broad stretches of land of many thousand acres, covered with dense forests; beyond this there is not a tree to be found, but the ground is covered knee-deep with grass and herbs, where both the botanist and the cattle find delicious food. Many hundred head of cattle are driven yearly, from the South Branch and other surrounding places, and entrusted to the care of the people who live here. What can be the cause of this strange phenomenon! One can only suppose that at one time these glades were covered with timber, which, overthrown by a mighty hurricane, gradually dried and fell into decay. But it would take too long to give the many reasons and arguments both for and against this supposition. "Only lately have the Indians ceased roving in this vicinity; which has done much to delay its cultivation, but now it is being cleared quite rapidly, and in a short time will, without doubt, become a fine place for pasturage. We spent the second night with one named Boyle, an old Hollander. Early the next morning we could hear the howling of a wolf in the forest. "We breakfasted with Tim Friend, a hunter, who lived six miles further on. If ever Adam existed he must have looked as this Tim Friend. I never saw such an illustration of perfect manhood. Large, strong and brawny; every limb in magnificent proportion, energy in every movement and strength in every muscle, his appearance was the expression of manly independence, contentment and intelligence. His conversation satisfied the expectations which it awakened. With gray head, 60 years old, 40 of which he had lived in the mountains, and of an observing mind, he could not find it difficult to agreeably entertain people who wished for information. He is a hunter by profession. We had choice venison for breakfast, and there were around the house and near by a great number of deers, bears, panthers, etc. I cannot abstain from believing that the manly effort which must be put forth in the hunt, the boldness which it requires, the keen observation which it encourages, the dexterity and activity which are necessary to its success, act together more forcibly for the development of the physical and mental strength than any other occupation. "Agriculture and cattle-raising, in their beginning produce careless customs and indolence; the mental faculties remain weak, the ideas limited, and the imagination, without counterpoise, extravagant. Therefore we admire the wisdom and penetration of the North American Indian, his sublime eloquence and heroic spirit in contrast to the Asiatic shepherd, from whom we receive only simple Arabic fables. The man, of whatever color he may be, is always that which the irresistible influence of his surroundings has formed him. We left our noble hunter and his large, attractive family unwillingly and followed a roadway to Duncard's Bottom, on Cheat river. "We had ridden along uneventfully for about two hours. I was in advance, when Joseph, who rode behind me, cried: 'Take care, sir. Take care. There is a rattlesnake.' It lay upon the road and my horse had almost stepped upon it, which would have proved a disastrous thing. Joseph, a good active fellow, sprang instantly from his horse in order to kill it. The snake disappeared in the bushes and rattled. It sounded so exactly like the noise of a grasshopper that I did not think it could be anything else. Joseph armed himself with a stout stick and heavy stone, followed the snake, found it, and killed it, but then jumped quickly back, for he saw close by another rattlesnake, which had coiled itself and was ready to spring at him. He hurried back again and killed the second. They were 3-1/2 feet long and nine inches in circumference, in the thickest part of the body; one had nine rattles and the other five. We examined the poisonous fangs, took the rattles with us and hung the bodies on a tree. I had thought until now that the principle of life was as stubborn in a snake as in an eel, but found to my astonishment that a slight blow was sufficient to destroy it in this dangerous specimen. Other observations touching upon natural history I must keep for future discussion. "We dined at Duncard's Bottom, crossed the Cheat river in the afternoon, reached the Monongahela Valley, spent the night in a very comfortable blockhouse with Mr. Zinn, and arrived the next day at Morgantown, on the Monongahela. We spent a day and a half here and were pleasantly entertained by Mr. Reeder and William M. Clary, and received much information, especially concerning sugar, maple trees and sugar making. From Morgantown we went to the mouth of George creek, Fayette county, Pennsylvania. As it was afternoon when we reached here we were overtaken by night and compelled to spend the night in a small blockhouse with Mr. McFarlain. We found Mr. McFarlain a respectable, intelligent farmer, surrounded as usual, by a large and happy family. "Directly after our arrival the table was set, around which the entire family assembled. This appears to be the usual custom in the United States with all people who are in some measure in good circumstances. One of the women, usually the prettiest, has the honor of presiding at table. There were good table appointments, fine china, and the simple feast was served with the same ceremony as in the most fashionable society of Philadelphia. Never, I believe, was there in any place more equality than in this. Strangers who come at this time of day at once enter the family circle. This was the case with us. Mr. McFarlain told us much about his farm and the misfortunes with which he struggled when he first cultivated the place upon which he now lives. He has lived here 30 years, a circumstance which is here very unusual, because the adventure loving nature, together with the wish to better their condition and the opportunity, has led many people to wander from place to place. "'But,' said Mr. McFarlain, when we made this observation, 'I have always believed there was truth in the saying, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." With labor and industry I have at last succeeded, and can still work as well as my sons.' "'Oh,' said his wife, a jolly woman, 'he does not do much. The most he does is to go around and look at the work.' "'Let him, let him,' interrupted the daughter, an energetic, pretty girl of perhaps 17 years, who was serving the coffee. 'He worked hard when he was young.' And no girl of finer education could have said it with more charming naivete or with the appearance of more unaffected love. "After the evening meal the eldest son showed us to our bed-room. 'Shall I close the window?' said he. 'I usually sleep here and always leave it open; it does not harm me, and Dr. Franklin advises it.' "The next morning when we came down we found the old farmer sitting on the porch reading a paper. Upon the table lay 'Morse's Geography,' 'The Beauty of the Stars,' 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and other good books. I have entered into particulars in my description of this family, because we were then only five miles from the home of Gallatin, where the people are too often represented as rough, uncultured, good-for-nothings. It is not necessary to mention that all families here are not as this, yet it is something to find a family such as this, living on this side of the mountains, 300 miles from the sea coast. We called upon Mr. Gallatin, but did not find him at home. Geneva is a little place, but lately settled, at the junction of George creek and the Monongahela. "From here we went to Uniontown, the capital of Fayette county, where we saw excellent land and Redstone creek. We dined the following day in Redstone or Brownsville; journeyed to Washington, the capital of the county of the same name, and arrived the following day in Pittsburg. "Of this city and its magnificent situation between two mighty rivers, the Monongahela and the Allegheny, I shall write you another time. From the window where I now sit, I have a view of the first named river, a half mile long. It is as broad as the Thames in London. The bank on this side is high, but horizontal and level, covered with short grass, such as the sheep love, which reminds me of the rock at Brighthelmstein. It is bordered with a row of locust trees. The bank on the other side is a chain of hills, thickly shaded with oak and walnut trees. The river flows quietly and evenly. Boats are going back and forth; even now one is coming, laden with hides from Illinois. The people on board are wearing clothes made of woolen bed blankets. They are laughing and singing after the manner of the French, yet as red as Indians, and almost the antipodes of their fatherland. "From here to the mouth of the Ohio it is 1,200 miles and 3,000 to the mouth of the Mississippi. How enormous! How beautiful it is to see the dominion of freedom and common sense established. To see in these grand surroundings the development of good principle and the struggle toward a more perfect life; to admire the spirit of enterprise as it works toward a great plan, which seems to be in relation to the great plan which nature itself has followed, and at last to anticipate by a secret feeling, the future greatness and prosperity which lies before this growing country." Two years later Felix Renick passed this way and includes in his account a vivid picture of the earliest sort of taverns in the West: "Some of our neighbors who had served in Dunmore's campaign in 1774, gave accounts of the great beauty and fertility of the western country, and particularly the Scioto valley, which inspired me with a desire to explore it as early as I could make it convenient. I accordingly set out from the south branch of Potomac for that purpose, I think about the first of October, 1798, in company with two friends, Joseph Harness and Leonard Stump, both of whom have long since gone hence. We took with us what provisions we could conveniently carry, and a good rifle to procure more when necessary, and further prepared ourselves to camp wherever night overtook us. Having a long journey before us, we traveled slow, and reached Clarksburgh the third night, which was then near the verge of the western settlements in Virginia, except along the Ohio river. Among our first inquiries of our apparently good, honest, illiterate landlord, was whether he could tell us how far it was to Marietta [Ohio], and what kind of trace we should have? His reply was, 'O yes, I can do that very thing exactly, as I have been recently appointed one of the viewers to lay out and mark a road from here to Marietta, and have just returned from the performance of that duty. The distance on a _straight line_ which we first run was seventy-five miles, but on our return we found and marked another line that was much _nearer_.' This theory to Mr. Harness and myself, each of us having spent several years in the study and practice of surveying, was entirely new: we however let it pass without comment, and our old host, to his great delight, entertained us till late in the evening, with a detailed account of the fine sport he and his associates had in their bear chases, deer chases, &c., while locating the road. We pursued our journey next morning, taking what our host called the nearest, and which he also said was much the best route. The marks on both routes being fresh and plain, the crooked and nearest route, as our host called it, frequently crossing the other, we took particular notice of the ground the straight line had to pass over, and after getting through we were disposed to believe that our worthy host was not so far wrong as might be supposed. The straight line crossing such high peaks of mountains, some of which were so much in the sugar-loaf form, that it would be quite as near to go round as over them. "The first night after leaving the settlement at Clarksburgh, we camped in the woods; the next morning while our horses were grazing, we drew on our wallets and saddlebags for a snack, that we intended should pass for our breakfast, and set out. We had not traveled far before we unexpectedly came to a new improvement. A man had gone there in the spring, cleared a small field and raised a patch of corn, &c., staying in a camp through the summer to watch it to prevent its being destroyed by the wild animals. He had, a few days before we came along, called on some of his near neighbors on the Ohio, not much more perhaps than thirty miles off, who had kindly came forth and assisted him in putting up a cabin of pretty ample size, into which he had moved bag and baggage. He had also fixed up a rock and trough, and exposed a clapboard to view, with some black marks on it made with a coal, indicating that he was ready and willing to accommodate those who pleased to favor him with a call. Seeing these things, and although we did not in reality need any thing in his way, Mr. Harness insisted on our giving him a call, observing that any man that would settle down in such a wilderness to accommodate travelers ought to be encouraged. We accordingly rode up and called for breakfast, horse feed, &c. Then let me say that as our host had just 'put the ball in motion,' was destitute of any helpmate whatever, (except a dog or two,) he had of course to officiate in all the various departments appertaining to a hotel, from the landlord down to the shoe-black on the one side, and from the landlady down to the dishwash on the other. The first department in which he had to officiate was that of the hostler, next that of the bar keeper, as it was then customary, whether called for or not, to set out a half pint of something to drink. The next, which he fell at with much alacrity, was that of the cook, by commencing with rolled up sleeves and unwashed hands and arms, that looked about as black and dirty as the bears' paws which lay at the cabin door, part of whose flesh was the most considerable item in our breakfast fare. The first operation was the mixing up some pounded corn meal dough in a little black dirty trough, to which the cleaner, and perhaps as he appeared to think him, the better half of himself, his dog, had free access before he was fairly done with it, and that I presume was the only kind of cleaning it ever got. While the dodgers were baking, the bear meat was frying, and what he called coffee was also making, which was composed of an article that grew some hundred or one thousand miles north of where the coffee tree ever did grow. You now have the bill of fare that we sat down to, and the manner in which it was prepared; but you must guess how much of it we ate, and how long we were at it. As soon as we were done we called for our bill, and here follows the items: breakfast fifty cents each, horses twenty-five each, half pint of whisky fifty cents. Mr. Harness, who had prevailed on us to stop, often heard of the wilderness hotel, and whenever mentioned, he always had some term of reproach ready to apply to the host and the dirty breakfast, though we often afterwards met with fare somewhat similar in all respects. "We camped two nights in the woods, and next day got to Marietta where the land office was then kept by general Putnam, and from his office we obtained maps of the different sections of country we wished to explore."[30] CHAPTER IV THE GENESEE ROAD The military importance of the Mohawk Valley and strategic portage at Rome, New York, was emphasized in our study of Portage Paths.[31] Throughout the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary struggle the water route to the Hudson from Lake Ontario, by way of the Onondaga, Lake Oneida, Wood Creek, and the Mohawk, was of great moment. But only because it was a route--a thoroughfare; not because the territory through which it coursed was largely occupied or of tremendous value. The French held the lakes and the English were constantly striving for foothold there. When Fort Oswego was built on the present site of Oswego, the first step by the English was taken; the route had been the river route with a portage at Fort Williams (Rome). When Fort Niagara was captured in 1759 by Sir William Johnson, the French were driven from the Lakes; Johnson's route to Niagara was by Lake Ontario from Oswego. It has been suggested that a volume of this series of monographs should be given to the campaigns of the English against Fort Niagara. These campaigns were made largely on waterways; they left no roads which became of any real importance in our national development. Certain campaigns of the Old French War left highways which have become of utmost significance; only of these routes and their story should this series be expected to treat. Despite the two wars which had created busy scenes in the Mohawk Valley, no landward route connected it with Niagara River and Lake Erie except the Iroquois Trail.[32] No military road was built through the "Long House of the Iroquois." To gain the key of the western situation--Niagara--the common route was to Oswego. There were local roads along the lake shore, and these were used more or less by the troops. In the Revolution no American general could get beyond Fort Stanwix by land. Leger himself came up the Oswego River to join Burgoyne. [Illustration: PART OF A "MAP OF THE ROUTE BETWEEN ALBANY AND OSWEGO" (_Parts AA' and BB' belong opposite_) [_Drawn about 1756; from original in British Museum_]] As a consequence, the interior of New York was an almost unexplored wilderness at the end of the Revolution in 1783. With the opening of the Genesee country by the various companies which operated there, a tide of immigration began to surge westward from the upper Mohawk along the general alignment of the old-time Iroquois Trail. Utica sprang up on the site of old Fort Schuyler, and marked the point of divergence of the new land route of civilization from the water route.[33] This was about 1786. In 1789 Asa Danworth erected his salt works at Bogardus Corners, now the city of Syracuse. Geneva, Batavia, and Buffalo mark the general line of the great overland route from Utica and Syracuse across New York. It followed very closely the forty-third meridian, dropping somewhat to reach Buffalo. The Great Genesee Road, as it was early known, began at old Fort Schuyler, as a western extremity of the Mohawk Valley road and later turnpike, and was built to the Genesee River by a law passed March 22, 1794. In 1798 a law was passed extending it to the western boundary of the state. It was legally known as the Great Genesee Road and the Main Genesee Road until 1800. In that year the road passed into the hands of a turnpike company the legal name of which was "The President and Directors of the Seneca Road Company." The old name clung to the road however, and on the map here reproduced we find it called the "Ontario and Genesee Turnpike Road." It forms the main street of both the large cities through which it passes, Syracuse and Utica, and in both it is called "Genesee Street." The first act of legislation which created a Genesee Road from an Indian trail read as follows: "_Be it enacted by the People of the State of New York, represented in Senate and Assembly_ That Israel Chapin, Michael Myer, and Othniel Taylor shall be and hereby are appointed commissioners for the purpose of laying out and improving a public road or highway to begin at Old Fort Schuyler on the Mohawk river and to run from thence in a line as nearly straight as the situation of the country will admit to the Cayuga Ferry in the county of Onondaga or to the outlet of the Cayuga lake at the discretion of the said commissioners and from the said outlet of the Cayuga lake or from the said Cayuga Ferry as the same may be determined on by the said commissioners in a line as nearly straight as the situation of the country will admit to the town of Canadaquai and from thence in a line as nearly straight as possible to the settlement of Canawagas on the Genesee river. "_And be it further enacted_ That the said road shall be laid out six rods wide, but it shall not be necessary for the said commissioners to open and improve the same above four rods wide in any place thereof. And the whole of the said road when laid out, shall be considered as a public highway and shall not be altered by the commissioners of any town or country [county?] through which the same shall run. "_And be it further enacted_ That the treasurer of this State shall pay to the said commissioners or any two of them a sum or sums of money not exceeding in the whole the sum of six hundred pounds out of the monies in the treasury which have arisen or may arise from the sale of military lotts to be laid out and expended towards the opening and improving that part of the said road passing through the military lands. "_And be it further enacted_ That for the purpose of laying out opening and improving the remainder of the said road, the said treasurer shall pay unto the said commissioners or any two of them out of any monies in the treasury not otherwise appropriated at the end of the present session of the legislature a sum not exceeding fifteen hundred pounds which said sum shall be by them laid out and expended in making or improving the remainder of the said road as aforesaid. _Provided_ that no larger proportion of the said sum of fifteen hundred pounds shall be appropriated towards the opening and improving of the said road in the county of Ontario then in the county of Herkemer. "_And be it further enacted_ That it shall and may be lawful to and for the said commissioners or any two of them to improve the said road by contract or otherwise as to them may appear the most proper. "_And be it further enacted_ That where any part of the said road shall be laid out through any inclosed or improved lands the owner or owners thereof shall be paid the value of the said lands so laid out into an highway with such damages as he, she or they may sustain by reason thereof which value and damages shall be settled and agreed upon by the said commissioners or any two of them and the parties interested therein, and if they cannot agree, then the value of the lands and damages shall be appraised by two justices of the peace, on the oaths of twelve freeholders not interested in paying or receiving any part of such appraisement, otherwise than in paying their proportion of the taxes for the contingent charges of the county which freeholders shall be summoned by any constable not otherwise interested than as aforesaid, by virtue of a warrant to be issued by the said two justices of the peace for that purpose, and the whole value of the said lands so laid out into an highway, and damages together with the costs of ascertaining the value of the said damages of the county in which the said lands shall be situated are levied collected and paid. "_And be it further enacted_ That each of the said commissioners shall be entitled to receive for their services the sum of sixteen shillings for every day they shall be respectively employed in the said business to be paid by the respective counties in which they shall so be employed which sums shall be raised levied and paid together with and in the same manner as the necessary and contingent charges of such county are raised levied and paid and that the said commissioners shall account with the auditor of this State for the monies they shall respectively receive from the treasurer of this State by virtue of this act on or before the first day of January one thousand seven hundred and ninety six."[34] A law entitled "An act appropriating monies for roads in the county of Onondaga and for other purposes therein mentioned," passed April 11, 1796, contained the following concerning the Genesee Road: "_And be it further enacted_ That the said commissioners shall and they are hereby strictly enjoined to expend two thousand dollars of the said monies in repairing the highway and bridges thereon heretofore directed to be laid out by law and now commonly called the Great Genesee road from the eastern to the western bounds of the said county of Onondaga and the residue of the money aforesaid to expend in the repair of such highways and the bridges thereon in the said county as will tend most extensively to benefit and accommodate the inhabitants thereof. "_And be it further enacted_ That it shall be the duty of the said commissioners and they are hereby strictly enjoined to cause all and every bridge which shall be constructed under their direction over any stream to be raised at least three feet above the water at its usual greatest height in the wettest season of the year and to construct every such bridge of the most durable and largest timber which can be obtained in its vicinity, and that wherever it can conveniently be done the road shall be raised in the middle so as to enable the water falling thereon freely to discharge therefrom and shall pursue every other measure which in their opinion will best benefit the public in the expenditure of the money committed to them."[35] In an act, passed April 1, 1796, supplementary to an "Act for the better support of Oneida, Onondaga and Cuyuga Indians ...", it was ordered that from the proceeds of all sales of lands bought of the Indians the surveyor-general should pay £500 to the treasurer of Herkimer County and a like amount to the treasurer of Onondaga County; this money was ordered to be applied to "mending the highway commonly called the Great Genesee Road and the bridges thereon."[36] A law of the year following, 1797, affords one of the interesting uses of the lottery in the development of American highways. It reads: "Whereas it is highly necessary, that direct communications be opened and improved between the western, northern and southern parts of this State. Therefore "_Be it enacted by the People of the State of New York, represented in Senate and Assembly_, That for the purpose of opening and improving the said communications, the managers herein after named shall cause to be raised by three successive lotteries of equal value, the sum of forty-five thousand dollars. That out of the neat [net?] proceeds of the first lottery the sum of eleven thousand seven hundred dollars, and out of the neat proceeds of the third lottery, the further sum of two thousand two hundred dollars shall be and hereby is appropriated for opening and improving the road commonly called the Great Genesee road, in all its extent from Old Fort Schuyler in the county of Herkimer to Geneva in the county of Ontario...."[37] The western movement to Lake Erie became pronounced at this time; the founders of Connecticut's Western Reserve under General Moses Cleaveland emigrated in 1796. The promoters of the Genesee country were advertising their holdings widely. The general feeling that there was a further West which was fertile, if not better than even the Mohawk and Hudson Valleys, is suggested in a law passed March 2, 1798, which contained a clause concerning the extension of the Genesee Road: "_And be it further enacted_ That the commissioner appointed in pursuance of the act aforesaid, to open and improve the main Genessee road, shall and he is hereby authorized and empowered to lay out and continue the main Genessee road, from the Genessee river westward to the extremity of the State. _Provided nevertheless_, that none of the monies appropriated by the said act shall be laid out on the part of the road so to be continued; _and provided also_ that the said road shall be made at the expense of those who may make donations therefor."[38] The mania which swept over the United States between 1790 and 1840 of investing money in turnpike and canal companies was felt early in New York. The success of the Lancaster Turnpike in Pennsylvania was the means of foisting hundreds of turnpike-road companies on public attention and private pocket-books. By 1811, New York State had at least one hundred and thirty-seven chartered roads, with a total mileage of four thousand five hundred miles, and capitalized at seven and a half millions. It is nothing less than remarkable that this thoroughfare from the Mohawk to Lake Erie should have been incorporated as a turnpike earlier in point of time than any of the routes leading to it (by way either of the Mohawk Valley or Cherry Valley) from Albany and the East. The Seneca Road Company was incorporated April 1, 1800. The Mohawk Turnpike and Bridge Company was incorporated three days later. The Cherry Valley routes came in much later. The Genesee Road was incorporated by the following act, April 1, 1800: "An act to establish a turnpike road company for improving the State road from the house of John House in the village of Utica, in the county of Oneida, to the village of Cayuga in the county of Cayuga, and from thence to Canadarque in the county of Ontario. "_Be it enacted by the People of the State of New York represented in Senate and Assembly_ That Benjamin Walker, Charles Williamson, Jedediah Sanger and Israel Chapin and all such persons as shall associate for the purpose of making a good and sufficient road in the form and manner herein after described from the house of John House ... observing as nearly the line of the present State [Genesee] road as the nature of the ground will allow, shall be and are hereby made a corporation and body politic in fact and in name, by the name of 'The President and Directors of the Seneca Road Company'...."[39] The road was to be under the management of nine directors and the capital stock was to be two thousand two hundred shares worth fifty dollars each. The directors were empowered to enter upon any lands necessary in building the road, specifications being made for appraisal of damages. The road was to "be six rods in width ... cleared of all timber excepting trees of ornament, and to be improved in the manner following, to wit, in the middle of the said road there shall be formed a space not less than twenty four feet in breadth, the center of which shall be raised fifteen inches above the sides, rising towards the middle by gradual arch, twenty feet of which shall be covered with gravel or broken stone fifteen inches deep in the center and nine inches deep on the sides so as to form a firm and even surface." Tollgates were to be established when the road was in proper condition every ten miles; the rates of toll designated in this law will be of interest for comparative purposes: _Tolls in 1800 on Seneca Turnpike, New York_ Wagon, and two horses .12-1/2 Each horse additional .03 Cart, one horse .06 Coach, or four wheeled carriage, two horses .25 Each horse additional .03 Carriage, one horse .12-1/2 Each horse additional .06 Cart, two oxen .08 Each yoke additional .03 Saddle or led horse .04 Sled, between December 15 and March 15 .12-1/2 Score of cattle .06 Score of sheep or hogs .03 The old Genesee Road passed through as romantic and beautiful a land as heart could wish to see or know; but the road itself was a creation of comparatively modern days, in which Seneca and Mohawk were eliminated factors in the problem. Here, near this road, a great experiment was made a few years after its building, when a canal was proposed and dug, amid fears and doubts on the part of many, from Albany to Buffalo. One of the first persons to advocate a water highway which would eclipse the land route, sent a number of articles on the subject to a local paper, whose editor was compelled to refuse to print more of them, because of the ridicule to which they exposed the paper! Poor as the old road was in bad weather, people could not conceive of any better substitute. [Illustration: PART OF A "MAP OF THE GRAND PASS FROM NEW YORK TO MONTREAL ... BY THOS. POWNALL" [_Drawn about 1756; from original in British Museum_]] When the Erie Canal was being built, so poor were the roads leading into the region traversed by the canal, that contractors were compelled to do most of their hauling in winter, when the ground was frozen and sleds could be used on the snow. Among the reasons given--as we shall see in a later monograph of this series--for delays in completing portions of the canal, was that of bad roads and the impossibility of sending heavy freight into the interior except in winter; and a lack of snow, during at least one winter, seriously handicapped the contractors. But when the Erie Canal was built, the prophecies of its advocates were fulfilled, as the rate per hundred-weight by canal was only one-tenth the rate charged by teamsters on the Genesee Road. The old "waggoners" who, for a generation, had successfully competed with the Inland Lock Navigation Company, could not compete with the Erie Canal, and it was indeed very significant that, when Governor Clinton and party made that first triumphal journey by canal-boat from Buffalo to Albany and New York--carrying a keg of Lake Erie water to be emptied into the Atlantic Ocean--they were not joyously received at certain points, such as Schenectady, where the old methods of transportation were the principal means of livelihood for a large body of citizens. How delighted were the old tavern-keepers in central New York with the opening of the Erie Canal, on whose boats immigrants ate and slept? About as happy, we may say, as were the canal operators when a railway was built, hurrying travelers on at such a rapid pace that their destinations could be reached, in many cases, between meals! Yet until the railway came, the fast mail-stages rolled along over the Genesee Road, keeping alive the old traditions and the old breed of horses. Local business was vastly increased by the dawning of the new era; society adapted itself to new and altered conditions, and the old days when the Genesee Road was a highway of national import became the heritage of those who could look backward and take hope for the future, because they recognized better the advances that each new year had made. CHAPTER V A TRAVELER ON THE GENESEE ROAD Among the many records of travelers on the famous Genesee Road, that of Timothy Bigelow, as given in his _Journal of a Tour to Niagara Falls in the Year 1805_,[40] approaches perhaps most nearly to the character of a description of the old highway which should be presented here: "July 14th. We proceeded [from Albany] to Schenectady to breakfast, fifteen miles, Beale's tavern; a good house. A new turnpike is making from Albany to this place; it is constructed in a very durable manner, with a pavement covered with hard gravel. That part which is completed is now an excellent road; the remainder will soon be equally good. It was not disagreeable to us to be informed that this road, and indeed all the other turnpikes, and most other recent works which we met with, which required uncommon ingenuity or labor, were constructed by Yankees. "Schenectady seems not to be a word fitted to common organs of speech. We heard it pronounced Snacketady, Snackedy, Ksnackidy, Ksnactady, Snackendy, and Snackady, which last is much the most common. To Ballston, Bromeling's, sixteen miles; a most excellent house. We found here about forty guests, but understood there were upwards of two hundred at Aldrich's, McMasters's, and the other boarding-houses near. Bromeling himself has accommodations in the first style for one hundred and thirty persons. "We met with but few people here from Massachusetts. Mr. Henry Higginson and his wife, Mr. Bingham, the bookseller, and his family, were all we knew. The mineral water was not agreeable to us all upon the first experiment; but with others, and myself in particular, it was otherwise. It is remarkably clear and transparent; the fixed air, which is continually escaping from it, gives it a sparkling appearance, and a lively and full taste, not unlike to that of brisk porter or champagne wine, while one is actually drinking.... We slept at Beals's. July 17th, we took the western stage in company with a Mr. Row, a gentleman from Virginia, who was about to engage in trade at Geneva, on the Seneca Lake. We crossed over to the north side of the Mohawk soon after setting out, to Schwartz's (still in Schenectady), a poor house, seven miles; thence to Pride's in Amsterdam, nine miles. Pride's is a handsome limestone house, built about fifty years since, as we were informed, by Sir William Johnson, for his son-in-law, Guy Johnson.... To Abel's in Amsterdam, situated on Trapp's Hill, opposite to the mouth of Schoharie River and the old Fort Hunter, to dine. The prospect to the south-west is extensive and romantic, exhibits an agreeable mixture of hills and plains, diversified with extensive forests almost in a state of nature, and cultivated fields scarce less extensive, now covered with a rich harvest of ripening wheat. The prospect was the principal thing which we found in this place to recommend it. The tavern is a poor one, and our dinner of course was miserable. Four miles to Shepard's, in Canajoharie, to sleep.... The Mohawk in many places was shoal, and interrupted with so many islands and sand-banks that we were often at a loss to conceive how loaded boats could pass, and yet we saw several going up-stream with heavy loads.... July 18th. To Carr's at Little Falls, to breakfast, twenty miles; a very good house. In this stage, we passed the East Canada Creek. Observed for the very first time the cypress-tree. The gloomy, melancholy air of this tree, and the deep shade which it casts, resulting from the downward direction of its branches, as well as the form and color of its leaves, have very properly marked it out as emblematical of mourning. "On approaching the Little Falls, we observed undoubted marks of the operation of the water on rocks, now far out of their reach, particularly the round holes worn out [by] pebbles kept in a rotatory motion by the current, so common at all falls. It is certain that heretofore the falls must have been some ways further down stream, and have been much greater than they now are, and that the German flats, and other low grounds near the river above, must have been the bed of a lake. The falls occupy about half a mile. In some spots, the river is so crowded between rocks, that one might almost pass across it; in most places, however, it is broken into a number of streams by irregular masses of limestone rock. There is here a commodious canal for the passage of boats cut round these falls. The whole fall is fifty-four feet; and there are five locks, in each of which the fall is ten feet, besides the guard-lock, where it is four. The locks are constructed of hewn stone, and are of excellent workmanship; they are almost exactly upon the construction of those at the head of Middlesex canal. Most of the buildings in the neighborhood, as well as two beautiful bridges over the canal here, are also of limestone. Carr and his wife are from Albany, and are agreeable and genteel people. "To Trowbridge's Hotel, in Utica, to dine. The house is of brick, large, commodious, and well attended. We found good fare here; in particular, excellent wine. From Little Falls to this is twenty-two miles. In this stage, we passed the German flats, an extensive and well-cultivated tract of internal land on both sides the Mohawk. The town of German Flats is on the south of the town of Herkimer, opposite thereto, on the north side of the river. Notwithstanding the celebrity of this spot for the excellence of its soil, we thought it not equal to that on Connecticut River. Having passed the West Canada Creek, the hills on both sides the river seem to subside, and open to the view an extensive and almost unbounded tract of level and fertile country, though of a much newer aspect than any we had seen before. [Illustration: WESTERN NEW YORK IN 1809] "At Utica, we passed over to the southern side of the Mohawk. The river here is about the size of the Nashua, and from this place bends off to the north-west. We happened to pass the bridge as a batteau was coming up to a store at the end of it, to discharge its cargo. The water was so shoal that the batteau grounded before it could be brought to its proper place. A pair of horses were attached to its bows, and it was not without the assistance of several men, added to the strength of the horses, that it was got up to the landing-place at last. "Morality and religion do not seem to have much hold of the minds of people in this region. Instances of rudeness and profanity are to be met with in almost every place, but the people engaged in unloading the batteau were much more extravagantly and unnecessarily profane than is common. Several persons also, whom I saw at Little Falls this morning, told me that they knew full well that Adam could not have been the first man, or that he must have lived much longer ago than the Scriptures declare, because they said it must be more than five thousand years for the Mohawk to have broken through the rocks, as it has done at those falls. "Utica was begun to be settled sixteen years ago, and is now a little city, and contains several elegant dwelling-houses, some of which are of brick, and a few of stone, together with a great number of stores and manufactories of different kinds. The Lombardy poplar-tree is cultivated here in great abundance. The facility of transportation by means of the Mohawk and Hudson Rivers on one side, and Wood Creek, Oneida, and Ontario Lakes on the other, together with the extraordinary fertility of the adjacent country, must at no great distance of time make Utica a place of great business and resort, and of course its population must rapidly increase. Moses Johnson, a broken trader, late of Keene, now of Manlius, a little above this place, whom we saw at Trowbridge's, spoke of this country as not favorable for traders, and that a very few stores of goods would overstock the market. It is natural, however, for people in his situation to ascribe their misfortunes to anything rather than their own imprudence or misconduct, which others would probably consider as the true cause of them. Mr. Charles Taylor and his father, whom we had overtaken at Shepard's, we left at Utica. "July 19th. To Laird's in Westmoreland, to breakfast, eleven miles; a very good house. Our breakfast here was garnished with a dish of excellent honey. Every thing in and about the house was neat, and we were particularly struck with the genteel and comely appearance of two young ladies, daughters of our landlord, one of whom, we were told, had attended a ball in the neighborhood, I think at Paris, the evening before. This stage was over a tract of very fertile country, nearly level, but a little ascending; the growth was mostly of rock-maple and lime-tree. We passed a creek in New Hartford, called Sawguet, or Sogwet, or Sacada [Sauquoit], and another in a corner of Paris called Kerry, or Riscana, say Oriskany. The whole country from Utica to this place is thickly settled. The houses are mostly well built, and many of them handsome; very few log houses to be seen. Young orchards are numerous and thrifty, and Lombardy poplars line the road a great part of the way; and yet we saw not a single field which had not the stumps of the original forest trees yet remaining in it. Honey is sent from hence to Lake Ontario, in barrels. "To Shethar's in Sullivan, eighteen miles, to dine; a good tavern. The face of the country is not so level here as about Utica, though it cannot be called hilly, even here. In addition to the forest trees which we had before seen, we here found the shag-bark nut tree in abundance. In this stage, we passed through the Oneida Indian village.... In this stage, we also passed the Skanandoa Creek, the first water we met with which discharges itself into the ocean by the St. Lawrence, as the Oriskany was the last which pays tribute to the Hudson. "We next passed the Oneida Creek, which unites with the Skanandoa. The earth in some places here is of the same color with that on Connecticut River, where the red freestone is found. In the Oneida village, the fields are free from stumps, the first to be met that are so from Utica to this place.... To Tyler's in Onondaga Hollow, to sleep, twenty-one miles. The last sixteen miles are over a very hilly country; the Canaseraga Mountain, in particular, is four or five miles over, and very steep.... "The country, as we approached Onondaga Hollow, we found had been longer settled than nearer the Oneida village, because the last cession of the Oneidas on the west, and immediately contiguous to their present reservation, was made but six or eight years ago, whereas the country to the westward of that had begun to be settled some time before. The town of Manlius, in particular, has the appearance of a flourishing settlement. This town is the first in the _Military Tract_, which is the lands given by the State of New York as a gratuity to the officers and soldiers of their line in the Revolutionary Army. As we were descending into the Onondaga Hollow, we saw to the north-westward the Salina or Onondaga Lake.... "The Onondaga Creek, which is of a convenient size for a mill-stream, runs along the Hollow from south to north, as do all the other streams in this country. This creek passes near the celebrated Onondaga salt springs, which are situated about five or six miles northward from Tyler's.... July 20th. Rose at half past two o'clock, and proceeded to Andrew's, at Skaneateles, to breakfast, sixteen miles; a good tavern. The country is still hilly, but very fertile. The soil is deep,--a mixture of loam and clay. The roads here must be very bad in wet weather. It rained last night for the first time since we commenced our journey; and the horses' feet, in consequence thereof, slipped as if they were travelling on snow or ice. "Rising out of Onondaga Hollow is a long and very steep hill. The road is constructed on the southern side of a precipice, in such a manner that, as you approach the top of the hill, you have a tremendous gulf on your left hand, at the bottom of which you hear the murmur of a brook fretting among the rocks, as it is passing on toward the Onondaga Creek, which it joins in the Hollow. There is a kind of railing or fence, composed of logs secured with stakes or trees, which is all that prevents the passenger, and even the road itself, from falling to the bottom of the gulf. On the hill we found the embryo of a village. A court-house is already built, and the frame of a hotel is raised. The hotel, we were told, is to be kept by one Brunson. It is an accommodation much needed by travellers on this road. "To Harris's in Cayuga, fifteen miles, to dine. We here had an excellent dinner of beefsteaks. Mr. Harris told us that they could keep beef fresh four or five days, in hot weather, by hanging it upon the trees--wrapping it in flannel--as high as was convenient. Flannel is better to wrap it in than linen. "The village of Cayuga is small, but pleasant and lively. It is in the township of Marcellus, on the eastern bank of the Cayuga Lake, within one or two miles of its northern extremity. This lake is about two miles wide in general, and almost forty miles long. Nearly north and south from the village, there are about fifteen miles of the lake in sight. The shores are mostly of hard land, except at the northern extremity, where there is a great deal of marsh, which is an unfavorable circumstance for the village, as it is not only disagreeable to the sight, but, I think, also to the smell. There is a wooden bridge across the lake, leading from Cayuga village towards Geneva, one mile long, wanting three roods. It suffered so much by shocks of the ice last winter, that in some places it is hardly safe to pass it. This forenoon we had passed the outlet of the Owasco Lake, but did not see the lake itself, which we were told was about a mile south of the road. The country hitherto is somewhat uneven, though by no means so much so as near the Onondaga Hollow. The soil, however, is excellent in many places, and is of a reddish color. "To Powell's Hotel in Geneva, to sleep, sixteen miles; excellent accommodations. At Harris's we had met with a Mr. Rees, a gentleman in trade at Geneva, who took passage in the stage with us for that place. From this gentleman, whom we found very intelligent and communicative, we learned many particulars concerning the salt springs, discovered about five years since upon the Cayuga outlet. These springs are about twelve miles below the Cayuga bridge, and are on both sides the outlet: that on the western side is in the township of Galen, and belongs to Mr. Rees and his partner in trade. These springs had long been known to the Indians, but they had always been reserved in communicating their knowledge of the state of the country to the white settlers. It was not till most or all of those who lived near this outlet had died or moved away, except one, that he mentioned the existence of these springs; and for a reward he conducted some persons to the place where they are situated. The persons to whom he communicated this information endeavored to purchase the favored spot before the owner should be apprised of its inestimable value; but he accidentally obtained a knowledge of his good fortune, and of course refused to sell.... The road from Cayuga to Geneva is for a few miles along the southern or south-eastern side, and the rest along the northern or north-eastern side of the Seneca outlet. The face of the country near the road is more level; but the soil is more sandy and uninviting than we had lately seen, till we approached near to Geneva. The land there is excellent, as we were told it was, through all the tract which extends between the Cayuga and Seneca Lakes. This tract rises in a kind of regular glacis from each lake, so that from the middle of it one can see both. It wants nothing but inhabitants and cultivation to make it an elysium. The Seneca outlet flows into the lower end of the Cayuga Lake. Towards its mouth there is a considerable fall, or rather rapid, which it is contemplated to lock, whereby a water communication will be opened between the two lakes. The stream is about half the size of the Winnipiseogee, and has a bluish-white appearance. "We were within half a mile of Geneva before we came in sight of the Seneca Lake. This charming sheet of water extends southerly from this place to Catharine Town, forty miles, being from two to four miles wide. There is not a foot of swamp or marsh on its borders, from one extremity to the other; but it is everywhere lined by a clear, gravelly beach, and the land rises from it with a very gentle and graceful ascent in every direction.... "Not far from Geneva are some of the Indian orchards, which were cut down by General Sullivan in his famous expedition, scarce less barbarous than those of the savages themselves. The trees now growing in these orchards sprouted from the roots of those which were cut down, and therefore grow in clusters, six or seven rising from one root. We saw Indian fields here free from stumps, the only ones which are to the westward of Utica, except those belonging to the Oneidas. We were told that, at this season of the year, the wind at Geneva blows constantly from the south in the forenoon, and from the north in the afternoon. We here quitted the stage, which runs no further than Canandaigua, and hired an open Dutch wagon and driver, and a single horse, to carry us to Niagara.... The turnpike road ends at this place [Canandaigua]. The whole length from Albany is two hundred and six or seven miles: it may properly be called two turnpikes, which join each other at Utica. A project is on foot for still extending the turnpike even to Niagara, a direct course to which would not probably exceed one hundred miles. "Mr. Rees told us yesterday that he was engaged to proceed to-morrow with certain commissioners to mark out the course of the road, and that the proprietors will begin to work upon it next year. The road may not be very good property at first, but will probably soon become so, judging from the astonishing rapidity with which this country is settled. It is ascertained that one thousand families migrated hither during the last year, two thirds of whom were from New England. "To Hall's in Bloomfield, to sleep, twelve miles; very good house. We had an excellent supper and clean beds. The town of Bloomfield has been settled about fifteen years, and is now in a flourishing state. Here is a handsome new meeting-house with a tasty steeple. The vane on the steeple is rather whimsical. It is a flying angel, blowing a trumpet against the wind.... To Hosmer's in Hartford, to breakfast, twelve and a half miles. Between Bloomfield and this, we passed through Charleston, which has but recently been reclaimed from the wilderness. It is perfectly flat, the soil is pretty good, though better, and more settled at some distance from the road than near it. The reason of cutting the road where it goes was because the country in that direction was open, when it was first explored, between this place and Lake Ontario, which is but twenty-eight miles distant, or to Gerundegut [now Toronto] Bay, but twenty-two miles.... "Hitherto we have found better roads since we left the turnpike than before, except that the bridges and causeways are mostly constructed with poles. Hosmer, our landlord, is an intelligent man and keeps a good tavern. We had for breakfast good coffee, excellent tea, loaf sugar, mutton chop, waffles, berry pie, preserved berries, excellent bread, butter, and a salad of young onions. I mention the particulars, because some of the articles, or such a collection, were hardly to be expected in such a depth of wilderness. "To Gansen's in Southampton, twelve and a half miles, to dine. Within about a mile of Hosmer's, we passed the Genesee River. The outlet of the Conesus Lake joins this river about a mile above, or to the south. Where we crossed, there is a new bridge, apparently strong and well built; and yet the water last spring undermined one end of it, so that it has sunk considerably.... "Gansen's is a miserable log house. We made out to obtain an ordinary dinner. Our landlord was drunk, the house was crowded with a dozen workmen, reeking with rain and sweat, and we were, withal, constantly annoyed with the plaintive and frightful cries and screams of a crazy woman, in the next room. We hastened our departure, therefore, even before the rain had ceased. "To Russell's in Batavia, twelve miles, to sleep. One mile from Gansen's, we crossed Allen's Creek, at Buttermilk Falls, where there are mills, and five miles further the Chookawoonga Creek, near the eastern transit line of the Holland purchase. This line extends from the bounds of Pennsylvania to Lake Ontario, a distance of near ninety-four miles. So far, the road was the worst of any we had seen; and none can be much worse and be passable for wheels. Within six miles of Batavia, the road is much better, and the land of a good quality, heavily timbered all the way, but especially near the settlement. It is but three years since this spot was first cleared, and it is now a considerable village. Here is a large building, nearly finished, intended for a court-house, jail, and hotel, under the same roof. The street is perfectly level, and is already a good and smooth road. Here is also an excellent mill, on a large and commodious scale, situated on the Tonawanda Creek, which is the first water we saw which passes over Niagara Falls. Russell's is a poor tavern. We were told that our sheets were clean, for they had been slept in but a _few_ times since they were washed. "July 23d. To Luke's in Batavia, to breakfast, five miles. We intended to have stopped at McCracken's, one mile short of this, but we were told that we could not be accommodated. The exterior appearance of both houses was very much alike; they are log huts, about twelve feet square. Luke's consisted of a single room, with a small lean-to behind, which served for a kitchen. It contained scarce any furniture, not even utensils enough to serve us comfortably for breakfast.... "It was but eighteen months since Luke began a settlement here, and he was the first who made the attempt between Batavia and Vandevener's, a distance of eighteen miles, though in that distance now there are several huts. Taverns like Luke's are not uncommon in this vicinity; almost every hut we saw had a sign hung out on a pole or stump, announcing that it was an inn. Perhaps such complete poverty did not exist in them all as we found at Luke's, yet, judging from external appearances, the difference could not be great. "We passed the Tonawanda near Batavia court-house, and then kept along its southern bank to this place. The woods are full of new settlers. Axes were resounding, and the trees literally falling about us as we passed. In one instance, we were obliged to pass in a field through the smoke and flame of the trees which had lately been felled and were just fired. "To Vandevener's in Willink, thirteen miles. We had intended only to dine here; but by reason of a thunder shower, and the temptation of comfortable accommodations, we concluded not to proceed till next day. Our last stage was through the Batavia woods, famed for their horrors, which were not abated by our having been informed at Russell's, that not far from here a white man had lately been killed by the Indians. We found the road much better than we had anticipated; the last four miles were the worst. A little labor would make the road all very good, at least in dry weather. There is another way to come from Batavia here; but it is six miles further, and probably little or no better than this. "It was but three years since Vandevener began here. He at first built a log house, but he has now a two-story framed house, adjoining that. His whole territory is five hundred acres, one hundred of which he has already got under improvement.... "July 23d. To Ransom's in Erie, to breakfast, fourteen miles. Ransom came from Great Barrington in Massachusetts, and settled here last September.... The last three miles from Ellicott's Creek to Ransom's is a new road cut through a thick wood, and is as bad as any part of the road through the Batavia woods. "To Crow's at Buffalo Creek, eight miles. In this stage, we passed the Four Mile Creek. Half the distance from Ransom's was over open country, ... in which many young chestnut-trees are just sprouting from the ground. The rest of our way was through a thick wood, where the growth is the same kind as in the interior of Massachusetts.... "From Buffalo we passed along the beach of Lake Erie, to the ferry across its outlet on the Niagara River, at Black Rock, so called, three miles...." CHAPTER VI THE CATSKILL TURNPIKE So few writers have paid any attention to the influence of roads in the development of our country that it is a great pleasure to find in Francis Whiting Halsey's _The Old New York Frontier_,[41] a chapter on the old Catskill Turnpike; through the kindness of the author it is possible to present here this story of that strategic highway of old New York: "Before the Revolutionary War something of a road had been cut through the woods from Otsego Lake southward along the Susquehanna, and other primitive roads led to and from the lake; but these highways had almost disappeared during the later years of the war, when Nature had done her effective work of reclamation. The one leading from the lake southward was improved in 1786 as far as Hartwick, and others were speedily taken in hand. Further down the river efforts were made to establish convenient communication with the Hudson, and out of this grew a road which eventually became the great highway for a large territory. It was called the Catskill Turnpike, and had its terminus on the Susquehanna at Wattles's Ferry.[41a] "This road, as a turnpike, properly dates from 1802, but the road itself is much older. Its eastern end had been opened long before the Revolution with a terminus in the Charlotte Valley. It seems then to have been hardly more than a narrow clearing through the forest, what farmers call a 'wood road,' or frontiersman a 'tote road.' It served as a convenient route to the Susquehanna, because much shorter than the older route by the Mohawk Valley. Over this road on horseback in 1769, came Colonel Staats Long Morris and his wife, the Duchess of Gordon. "After the war demands rose for a better road, and one was soon undertaken with its terminus at Wattles's Ferry. This terminus appears to have been chosen because the river here was deep enough to permit the use of 'battoes' during the low water that prevailed in summer. By the summer of 1788 the road was in passable condition. Alexander Harper and Edward Paine in February, 1789, declared that they had been to 'a very great expense in opening the roads from Catskill and the Hudson to the Susquehanna River.' In the same year a petition was filed for a road 'from the Ouleout to Kyuga Lake.' The road to Cayuga Lake (Ithaca) made slow progress, and in 1791 General Jacob Morris addressed to Governor Clinton a letter which shows that it was then still to be undertaken. Early in 1790 the State had taken the road to Catskill in charge. In August, G. Gelston made up from surveys a map from Catskill 'running westerly to the junction of the Ouleout Creek with the Susquehanna River.' The country had been previously explored for the purpose by James Barker and David Laurence.[42] "In 1791 Sluman Wattles charged his cousin, Nathaniel Wattles, £4, 6_s._ for 'carting three barrells from your house to Catskill,' £1 for 'five days work on the road,' and 15 shillings for 'inspecting road.' Besides Nathaniel Wattles, Menad Hunt was interested in the work, and in 1792 the two men appealed to the state to be reimbursed for money paid out above the contract price.[43] During this year the father of the late Dr. Samuel H. Case, of Oneonta, emigrated to the upper Ouleout from Colchester, Conn., with his seven brothers. They drove cattle and sheep ahead of them, and consumed eight days in making the journey from the Hudson River. Solomon Martin went over the road in the same year, using Sluman Wattles's oxen, for which he was charged £1, 17_s._ He went to Catskill, and was gone fifteen days. This road was only twenty-five feet wide. In 1792 a regular weekly mail-route was established over it. "These are among the many roads which were opened in the neighborhood before the century closed--before the Catskill Turnpike, as a turnpike, came into existence. Nearly every part of the town of Unadilla, then embracing one-third of Otsego County, had been made accessible before the year 1800. The pioneers had taken up lands all through the hill country. But the needs of the settlers had not been fully met. All over the State prevailed similar conditions. The demands that poured in upon State and town authorities for road improvements became far in excess of what could be satisfied. Everywhere fertile lands had been cleared and sown to grain, but the crops were so enormous that they could neither be consumed at home nor transported to market elsewhere. Professor McMaster says that 'the heaviest taxes that could have been laid would not have sufficed to cut out half the roads or build half the bridges that commerce required. "Out of this condition grew the policy of granting charters to turnpike companies, formed by well-to-do land-owners, who undertook to build roads and maintain them in proper condition for the privilege of imposing tolls. Men owning land and possessed of ready money, were everywhere eager to invest in these enterprises. They not only saw the promise of dividends, but ready sales for their lands. At one time an amount of capital almost equal to the domestic debt of the nation when the Revolution closed was thus employed throughout the country. By the year 1811, no fewer than 137 roads had been chartered in New York State alone, with a total length of 4,500 miles and a total capital of $7,500,000. About one-third of this mileage was eventually completed. "Eight turnpikes went out from Albany, and five others joined Catskill, Kingston, and Newburg with the Susquehanna and Delaware rivers. The earliest of these five, and one of the earliest in the State, was the Catskill and Susquehanna turnpike, that supplanted the primitive State road to Wattles's Ferry. The old course was changed in several localities, the charter permitting the stockholders to choose their route. Among the names in the charter were John Livingston, Caleb Benton (a brother of Stephen Benton), John Kortright, Sluman Wattles, and Solomon Martin. The stock was limited to $12,000 in shares of $20 each. "The road ran through lands owned by the stockholders. Little regard was had for grades, as travellers well know. The main purpose was to make the land accessible and marketable. The road was completed in 1802, and soon became a famous highway to Central New York, and the navigable Susquehanna, and so remained for more than a quarter of a century. It was in operation four years earlier than the Great Western Turnpike, connecting Albany with Buffalo and running through Cherry Valley. Spafford in 1813 described it as 'the Appian Way turnpike,' in which it seems the pride felt in it, likened as it thus was to one of the best roads ever built by man--that Roman highway which still does service after the lapse of more than 2,000 years. In one sense this turnpike was like a Roman road: it followed straight lines from point to point regardless of hills, obstacles being squarely faced and defied by these modern men as by the old Romans. "Ten toll-gates were set up along the line, with the rates as follows: for twenty sheep and hogs, eight cents; for twenty horses and cattle, twenty cents; for a horse and rider, five cents; for a horse and chaise, twelve and one-half cents; for a coach or chariot, twenty-five cents; for a stage or wagon, twelve and one-half cents. In 1804, Caleb Benton, who lived in Catskill, was president of the corporation, and in 1805 the stage business of the road was granted as a monopoly to David Bostwick, Stephen Benton, Lemuel Hotchkiss, and Terence Donnelly. Two stages were to be kept regularly on the road, the fare to be five cents per mile. A stage that left Catskill Wednesday morning reached Unadilla Friday night, and one that left Unadilla Sunday reached Catskill Tuesday. The most prosperous period for the road was the ten years from 1820 to 1830. "Two years after the road was built, Dr. Timothy Dwight, President of Yale College, during one of his regular vacation journeys, passed over it and stopped at Unadilla. He has left a full record of the journey. Dr. Dwight, accustomed long to the comforts of life in New England, had no sooner crossed the State line from Massachusetts to New York than he observed a change. The houses became ordinary and ill repaired, and very many of them were taverns of wretched appearance. "For sixteen or eighteen miles, he saw neither church nor school-house. Catskill contained about 100 houses, and much of the business was done by barter. The turnpike to the Susquehanna he described as a 'branch of the Greenwood turnpike from Hartford to Albany, commencing from Canaan in Connecticut and passing to Wattles's Ferry on the Susquehanna. Thence it is proposed to extend it to the county of Trumbull on the southern shore of Lake Erie.' The road he thought 'well made.' "Connecticut families were found settled along the line. Now he came upon 'a few lonely plantations recently begun upon the road,' and then 'occasionally passed a cottage, and heard the distant sound of an axe and of a human voice. All else was grandeur, gloom and solitude.' At last after many miles of riding he reached a settlement 'for some miles a thinly built village, composed of neat, tidy houses,' in which everything 'indicated prosperity.' This was Franklin. Coming down the Ouleout, the country, he said, 'wore a forbidding aspect, the houses being thinly scattered and many of them denoted great poverty.' "When Dr. Dwight reached Wattles's Ferry, the more serious trials of his journey began. All the privations of life in a new country which he had met on the road from Catskill at last had overtaxed his patience, and he poured forth his perturbed spirit upon this infant settlement. When he made a second visit a few years later he liked the place much better. His first impressions are chronicled at some length. He says: "'When we arrived at the Susquehanna we found the only inn-keeper, at the eastern side of the river, unable to furnish us a dinner. To obtain this indispensable article we were obliged therefore to cross the river. The ferry-boat was gone. The inhabitants had been some time employed in building a bridge, but it was unfinished and impassable. There was nothing left us, therefore, but to cross a deep and rapid ford. Happily the bottom was free from rocks and stones.' "Dr. Dwight appears to have found no satisfactory stopping-place in Unadilla, and proceeds to say: "'About four miles from the ferry we came to an inn kept by a Scotchman named Hanna. Within this distance we called at several others, none of which could furnish us a dinner. I call them inns because this name is given them by the laws of the State, and because each of them hangs out a sign challenging this title. But the law has nicknamed them, and the signs are liars. "'It is said, and I suppose truly, that in this State any man who will pay for an inn-keeper's license obtains one of course. In consequence of this practice the number of houses which bear the appellation is enormous. Too many of them are mere dramshops of no other use than to deceive, disappoint and vex travellers and to spread little circles of drunkenness throughout the State. A traveller after passing from inn to inn in a tedious succession finds that he can get nothing for his horse and nothing for himself.' "The remedy he prescribed for this was to license 'only one inn where there are five or six.' The evil was general. In 1810 the people of Meredith made a formal and vigorous protest against the growth of intemperance and crime as caused by public houses. There were ten hotels in that town alone, besides a number of distilleries. Many citizens banded themselves in behalf of order and decency, and their protest abounded in an energy of language that would have delighted the soul of Dr. Dwight. Of his further experience at Mr. Hanna's hotel, he says: "'We at length procured a dinner and finding no house at a proper distance where we could be lodged concluded to stay where we were. Our fare was indeed bad enough, but we were sheltered from the weather. Our inn-keeper besides furnishing us with such other accommodations as his home afforded, added to it the pleasures of his company and plainly considered himself as doing us no small favor. In that peculiar situation in which the tongue vibrates with its utmost ease and celerity, he repeated to us a series of anecdotes dull and vulgar in the extreme. Yet they all contained a seasoning which was exquisite, for himself was in every case the hero of the tale. To add to our amusement, he called for the poems of Allan Ramsay and read several of them to us in what he declared to be the true Scottish pronunciation, laughing incessantly and with great self-complacency as he proceeded.' "Dr. Dwight remarks that 'a new turnpike road is begun from the ferry and intended to join the Great Western road either at Cayuga bridge or Canandaigua. This route will furnish a nearer journey to Niagara than that which is used at present.' We see from this what were the plans of that day, as to the future central highway of New York State. Of Unadilla Dr. Dwight says: "'That township in which we now were is named Unadilla and lies in the county of Otsego. It is composed of rough hills and valleys with a handsome collection of intervales along the Susquehanna. On a remarkably ragged eminence immediately north-west of the river, we saw the first oaks and chestnuts after leaving the neighborhood of Catskill. The intervening forests were beach, maple, etc. The houses in Unadilla were scattered along the road which runs parallel with the river. The settlement is new and appears like most others of a similar date. Rafts containing each from twenty to twenty-five thousand feet of boards are from this township floated down the Susquehanna to Baltimore. Unadilla contained in 1800 eight hundred and twenty-three inhabitants.'[44] "On September 27, 1804, Dr. Dwight left Mr. Hanna's inn and rode through to Oxford. The first two miles of the way along the Susquehanna were 'tolerably good and with a little labor capable of being excellent.' He continues: "'We then crossed the Unadilla, a river somewhat smaller but considerable longer (sic) than the Susquehanna proper, quite as deep and as difficult to be forded. Our course to the river was south-west. We then turned directly north along the banks of the Unadilla, and travelling over a rugged hill, passed through a noble cluster of white pines, some of which though not more than three feet in diameter, were, as I judged, not less than 200 feet in height. No object in the vegetable world can be compared with this.' "Eleven years later, Dr. Dwight again passed over the turnpike on his way to Utica. 'The road from Catskill to Oxford,' he said, 'I find generally bad, as having been long neglected. The first twenty miles were tolerable, the last twenty absolutely intolerable.' After noting that in Franklin 'religion had extensively prevailed,' he wrote: "'Unadilla is becoming a very pretty village. It is built on a delightful ground along the Susquehanna and the number of houses, particularly of good ones, has much increased. A part of the country between this and Oxford is cultivated; a considerable part of it is still a wilderness. The country is rough and of a high elevation.' "In some reminiscences[45] which my father wrote in 1890, he described the scenes along this road that were familiar to him in boyhood at Kortright--1825 to 1835. The road was then in its most prosperous period. It was not uncommon for one of the hotels, which marked every few miles of the route, to entertain thirty or forty guests at a time. The freight wagons were huge in size, drawn by six and eight horses, and had wheels with wide tires. Stages drawn by four and six horses were continually in use. Not infrequently came families bound for Ohio, where they expected to settle--some of these Connecticut people, who helped to plant the Western Reserve settlements. This vast traffic brought easy prosperity to the people along the turnpike and built up towns and villages. My father records the success of the Rev. Mr. McAuley's church at Kortright--a place that has now retrograded so that it is only a small hamlet, just capable of retaining a post office. But Mr. McAuley's church at one time, more than sixty years ago, had five hundred members, and was said to be the largest church society west of the Hudson valley. "A change occurred with the digging of the Erie Canal and the building of the Erie Railway. Morever, in 1834 was built a turnpike from North Kortright through the Charlotte Valley to Oneonta. The white man having tried a route of his own over the hills, reverted to the route which the red man had marked out for him ages before. Much easier was the grade by this river road, and this fact exercised a marked influence on the fortunes of the settlements along the olden line. Freight wagons were drawn off and sent by the easier way. Stages followed the new turnpike and the country between Wattles's Ferry and Kortright retrograded as rapidly as it had formerly improved.[46] "The building of the Catskill Turnpike really led to the founding of Unadilla village on its present site. It had confined to this point a growth which otherwise would probably have been distributed among other points along the valley. Here was a stopping-place, with a river to be crossed, horses to be changed, and new stages taken, and here had been established the important market for country produce of Noble & Hayes. Unadilla became what might be called a small but thriving inland river port. Here lumber was sawed and here it came from mills elsewhere for shipment along with farm products to Baltimore. Here grain was ground, and here were three prosperous distilleries. "The building of the turnpike along the Charlotte was not the only blow that came to the western portion of the Catskill Road. Another and permanent one came to the whole length of the turnpike when the Erie Canal was built, followed later by the Erie Railroad. Otsego County, in 1832, had reached a population of 52,370, but with the Erie Canal in operation it ceased to grow. At the present time the showing is considerably less than it was in 1832, and yet several villages have made large increases, the increase in Oneonta being probably tenfold. "Contemporary with the Erie Canal was an attempt to provide the Susquehanna with a canal. It became a subject of vast local interest from Cooperstown to the interior of Pennsylvania. The scheme included a railway, or some other method of reaching the Erie Canal from the head of Otsego Lake. Colonel De Witt Clinton, Jr., son of the governor, made a survey as far as Milford, and found that in nine miles there was a fall of thirty feet, and that at Unadilla the fall from the lake was 150 feet, while in 110 miles from the lake it was 350 feet. In 1830 a new survey showed that 144 miles out of 153 were already navigable, the remaining distance requiring a canal. Some seventy locks would be needed and sixty-five dams. Judge Page, while a member of Congress, introduced a bill to aid slack-water navigation from Cooperstown to tide-water. It was his opinion that the failure of the bill was due to the spread of railroads. "With the ushering in of the great railroad era, the Susquehanna Valley saw started as early as 1830 many railroad projects which could save it from threatened danger. Their aim was to connect the upper Susquehanna with the Hudson at Catskill, and the Mohawk at Canajoharie. None ever got beyond the charter stage. Strenuous efforts were afterward made to bring the Erie from the ancient Cookoze (Deposit) to the Susquehanna at a point above Oghwaga, but this also failed. "Indeed it was not until after the Civil War that any railroad reached the headwaters of the Susquehanna; but it was an agreeable sign of the enterprise which attended the men of 1830 and following years that at the period when the earliest railroad in this State, and one of the earliest on this continent, had just been built from Albany to Schenectady, serious projects existed for opening this valley to the outer world. Even the great Erie project languished long in consequence of business depression. It was not until 1845 that it was completed as far as Middletown, and not until 1851 that it reached Dunkirk. "Not even to the Erie was final supremacy on this frontier assured, but the upper Susquehanna lands, more than those through which the Erie ran, were doomed to a condition of isolation. Nature itself had decreed that the great route of transportation in New York State was to run where the great trail of the Iroquois for centuries had run--through the Mohawk Valley. Along that central trail from Albany, 'the Eastern Door,' to Buffalo, 'the Western door of the Long House,' the course of empire westward was to take its way." CHAPTER VII WITH DICKENS ALONG PIONEER ROADS Some of the most interesting descriptions of pioneer traveling are from the racy pages of Charles Dickens's _American Notes_, a volume well known to every reader. No description of early traveling in America would be complete, however, without including a number of these extremely witty, and, in some instances, extremely pathetic descriptions of conditions that obtained in Virginia and Ohio in Dickens's day. The following description of a negro driver's manipulation of reins, horses, and passengers may be slightly exaggerated, but undoubtedly presents a typical picture of southern stage driving: "Soon after nine o'clock we come to Potomac Creek, where we are to land; and then comes the oddest part of the journey. Seven stage-coaches are preparing to carry us on. Some of them are ready, some of them are not ready. Some of the drivers are blacks, some whites. There are four horses to each coach, and all the horses, harnessed or unharnessed, are there. The passengers are getting out of the steamboat, and into the coaches, the luggage is being transferred in noisy wheel-barrows; the horses are frightened, and impatient to start; the black drivers are chattering to them like so many monkeys; and the white ones whooping like so many drovers: for the main thing to be done in all kinds of hostlering here, is to make as much noise as possible. The coaches are something like the French coaches, but not nearly so good. In lieu of springs, they are hung on bands of the strongest leather. There is very little choice or difference between them; and they may be likened to the car portion of the swings at an English fair, roofed, put upon axle-trees and wheels, and curtained with painted canvas. They are covered with mud from the roof to the wheel-tire, and have never been cleaned since they were first built. "The tickets we have received on board the steamboat are marked No. 1, so we belong to coach No. 1. I throw my coat on the box, and hoist my wife and her maid into the inside. It has only one step, and that being about a yard from the ground, is usually approached by a chair: when there is no chair, ladies trust in Providence. The coach holds nine inside, having a seat across from door to door, where we in England put our legs: so that there is only one feat more difficult in the performance than getting in, and that is getting out again. There is only one outside passenger, and he sits upon the box. As I am that one, I climb up; and while they are strapping the luggage on the roof, and heaping it into a kind of tray behind, have a good opportunity of looking at the driver. "He is a negro--very black indeed. He is dressed in a coarse pepper-and-salt suit excessively patched and darned (particularly at the knees), grey stockings, enormous unblacked high-low shoes, and very short trousers. He has two odd gloves: one of parti-coloured worsted, and one of leather. He has a very short whip, broken in the middle and bandaged up with string. And yet he wears a low-crowned, broad-brimmed, block hat: faintly shadowing forth a kind of insane imitation of an English coachman! But somebody in authority cries 'Go ahead!' as I am making these observations. The mail takes the lead in a four-horse wagon, and all the coaches follow in procession: headed by No. 1. "By the way, whenever an Englishman would cry 'All right!' an American cries 'Go ahead!' which is somewhat expressive of the national character of the two countries. "The first half mile of the road is over bridges made of loose planks laid across two parallel poles, which tilt up as the wheels roll over them: and IN the river. The river has a clayey bottom and is full of holes, so that half a horse is constantly disappearing unexpectedly, and can't be found again for some time. "But we get past even this, and come to the road itself, which is a series of alternate swamps and gravel-pits. A tremendous place is close before us, the black driver rolls his eyes, screws his mouth up very round, and looks straight between the two leaders, as if he were saying to himself, 'We have done this often before, but _now_ I think we shall have a crash.' He takes a rein in each hand; jerks and pulls at both; and dances on the splashing board with both feet (keeping his seat, of course) like the late lamented Ducrow on two of his fiery coursers. We come to the spot, sink down in the mire nearly to the coach windows, tilt on one side at an angle of forty-five degrees, and stick there. The insides scream dismally; the coach stops; the horses flounder; all the other six coaches stop; and their four-and-twenty horses flounder likewise: but merely for company, and in sympathy with ours. Then the following circumstances occur. "BLACK DRIVER (to the horses). 'Hi!' Nothing happens. Insides scream again. BLACK DRIVER (to the horses). 'Ho!' Horses plunge, and splash the black driver. GENTLEMAN INSIDE (looking out). 'Why, what on airth--' Gentleman receives a variety of splashes and draws his head in again, without finishing his question or waiting for an answer. BLACK DRIVER (still to the horses). 'Jiddy! Jiddy!' Horses pull violently, drag the coach out of the hole, and draw it up a bank; so steep, that the black driver's legs fly up into the air, and he goes back among the luggage on the roof. But he immediately recovers himself, and cries (still to the horses), 'Pill!' No effect. On the contrary, the coach begins to roll back upon No. 2, which rolls back upon No. 3, which rolls back upon No. 4, and so on, until No. 7 is heard to curse and swear, nearly a quarter of a mile behind. BLACK DRIVER (louder than before). 'Pill!' Horses make another struggle to get up the bank, and again the coach rolls backward. BLACK DRIVER (louder than before). 'Pe-e-e-ill!' Horses make a desperate struggle. BLACK DRIVER (recovering spirits). 'Hi! Jiddy, Jiddy, Pill!' Horses make another effort. BLACK DRIVER (with great vigour). 'Ally Loo! Hi. Jiddy, Jiddy. Pill. Ally Loo!' Horses almost do it. BLACK DRIVER (with his eyes starting out of his head). 'Lee, dere. Lee, dere. Hi. Jiddy, Jiddy. Pill. Ally Loo. Lee-e-e-e-e!' "They run up the bank, and go down again on the other side at a fearful pace. It is impossible to stop them, and at the bottom there is a deep hollow, full of water. The coach rolls frightfully. The insides scream. The mud and water fly about us. The black driver dances like a madman. Suddenly we are all right by some extraordinary means, and stop to breathe. "A black friend of the black driver is sitting on a fence. The black driver recognizes him by twirling his head round and round like a harlequin, rolling his eyes, shrugging his shoulders, and grinning from ear to ear. He stops short, turns to me, and says: "'We shall get you through sa, like a fiddle, and hope a please you when we get you through sa. Old 'ooman at home sir:' chuckling very much. 'Outside gentleman sa, he often remember old 'ooman at home sa,' grinning again. "'Aye aye, we'll take care of the old woman. Don't be afraid.' "The black driver grins again, but there is another hole, and beyond that, another bank, close before us. So he stops short: cries (to the horses again) 'Easy. Easy den. Ease. Steady. Hi. Jiddy. Pill. Ally. Loo!' but never 'Lee!' until we are reduced to the very last extremity, and are in the midst of difficulties, extrication from which appears to be all but impossible. "And so we do the ten miles or thereabouts in two hours and a half; breaking no bones though bruising a great many; and in short getting through the distance, 'like a fiddle.' "This singular kind of coaching terminates at Fredericksburgh, whence there is a railway to Richmond...." Dickens, the student of human nature, surely found vast material for inspection and observation in our American coaches. The drivers particularly attracted his attention as we have seen; their philosophical indifference to those under their charge as well as their anxieties on certain occasions caused him to marvel. The stage-drivers of Dickens's day were marvels and offer character studies as unique as they were interesting. For the general air of conscienceless indifference on the part of drivers, and exasperated verbosity of passengers, perhaps no sketch of Dickens is more to the point than the following which describes, with lasting flavor, a ride from York, Pennsylvania, to Harrisburg: "We left Baltimore by another railway at half-past eight in the morning, and reached the town of York, some sixty miles off, by the early dinner-time of the Hotel which was the starting-place of the four-horse coach, wherein we were to proceed to Harrisburg. "This conveyance, the box of which I was fortunate enough to secure, had come down to meet us at the railroad station, and was as muddy and cumbersome as usual. As more passengers were waiting for us at the inn-door, the coachman observed under his breath, in the usual self-communicative voice, looking the while at his mouldy harness, as if it were to that he was addressing himself: "'I expect we shall want _the big_ coach.' "I could not help wondering within myself what the size of this big coach might be, and how many persons it might be designed to hold; for the vehicle which was too small for our purpose was something larger than two English heavy night coaches, and might have been the twin-brother of a French diligence. My speculations were speedily set at rest, however, for as soon as we had dined, there came rumbling up the street, shaking its sides like a corpulent giant, a kind of barge on wheels. After much blundering and backing, it stopped at the door: rolling heavily from side to side when its other motion had ceased, as if it had taken cold in its damp stable, and between that, and the having been required in its dropsical old age to move at any faster pace than a walk, were distressed by shortness of wind. "'If here ain't the Harrisburg mail at last, and dreadful bright and smart to look at too,' cried an elderly gentleman in some excitement, 'darn my mother!' "I don't know what the sensation of being darned may be, or whether a man's mother has a keener relish or disrelish of the process than anybody else; but if the endurance of this mysterious ceremony by the old lady in question had depended on the accuracy of her son's vision in respect to the abstract brightness and smartness of the Harrisburg mail, she would certainly have undergone its infliction. However, they booked twelve people inside; and the luggage (including such trifles as a large rocking-chair, and a good-sized dining-table), being at length made fast upon the roof, we started off in great state. "At the door of another hotel, there was another passenger to be taken up. "'Any room, sir?' cries the new passenger to the coachman. "'Well there's room enough,' replies the coachman, without getting down, or even looking at him. "'There an't no room at all, sir,' bawls a gentleman inside. Which another gentleman (also inside) confirms, by predicting that the attempt to introduce any more passengers 'won't fit nohow.' "The new passenger, without any expression of anxiety, looks into the coach, and then looks up at the coachman: 'Now, how do you mean to fix it?' says he, after a pause: 'for I _must_ go.' "The coachman employs himself in twisting the lash of his whip into a knot, and takes no more notice of the question: clearly signifying that it is anybody's business but his, and that the passengers would do well to fix it, among themselves. In this state of things, matters seem to be approximating to a fix of another kind, when another inside passenger in a corner, who is nearly suffocated, cries faintly, "'I'll get out.' "This is no matter of relief or self-congratulation to the driver, for his immoveable philosophy is perfectly undisturbed by anything that happens in the coach. Of all things in the world, the coach would seem to be the very last upon his mind. The exchange is made, however, and then the passenger who has given up his seat makes a third upon the box, seating himself in what he calls the middle: that is, with half his person on my legs, and the other half on the driver's. "'Go a-head cap'en,' cries the colonel, who directs. "'Go-lang!' cries the cap'en to his company, the horses, and away we go. "We took up at a rural bar-room, after we had gone a few miles, an intoxicated gentleman who climbed upon the roof among the luggage, and subsequently slipping off without hurting himself, was seen in the distant perspective reeling back to the grog-shop where we had found him. We also parted with more of our freight at different times, so that when we came to change horses, I was again alone outside. "The coachmen always change with the horses, and are usually as dirty as the coach. The first was dressed like a very shabby English baker; the second like a Russian peasant; for he wore a loose purple camlet robe with a fur collar, tied round his waist with a parti-coloured worsted sash; grey trousers; light blue gloves; and a cap of bearskin. It had by this time come on to rain very heavily, and there was a cold damp mist besides, which penetrated to the skin. I was very glad to take advantage of a stoppage and get down to stretch my legs, shake the water off my great-coat, and swallow the usual anti-temperance recipe for keeping out the cold.... "We crossed this river [Susquehanna] by a wooden bridge, roofed and covered in on all sides, and nearly a mile in length. It was profoundly dark; perplexed, with great beams, crossing and recrossing it at every possible angle; and through the broad chinks and crevices in the floor, the rapid river gleamed, far down below, like a legion of eyes. We had no lamps; and as the horses stumbled and floundered through this place, towards the distant speck of dying light, it seemed interminable. I really could not at first persuade myself as we rumbled heavily on, filling the bridge with hollow noises, and I held down my head to save it from the rafters above, but that I was in a painful dream; for I have often dreamed of toiling through such places, and as often argued, even at the time, 'this cannot be reality.' "At length, however, we emerged upon the streets of Harrisburg...." Coachmen are further described by Dickens during his stagecoach trip from Cincinnati to Columbus in Ohio: "We often stop to water at a roadside inn, which is always dull and silent. The coachman dismounts and fills his bucket, and holds it to the horses' heads. There is scarcely any one to help him; there are seldom any loungers standing round; and never any stable-company with jokes to crack. Sometimes, when we have changed our team, there is a difficulty in starting again, arising out of the prevalent mode of breaking a young horse; which is to catch him, harness him against his will, and put him in a stage-coach without further notice: but we get on somehow or other, after a great many kicks and a violent struggle; and jog on as before again. "Occasionally, when we stop to change, some two or three half-drunken loafers will come loitering out with their hands in their pockets, or will be seen kicking their heels in rocking-chairs, or lounging on the window sill, or sitting on a rail within the colonnade: they have not often anything to say though, either to us or to each other, but sit there idly staring at the coach and horses. The landlord of the inn is usually among them, and seems, of all the party, to be the least connected with the business of the house. Indeed he is with reference to the tavern, what the driver is in relation to the coach and passengers: whatever happens in his sphere of action, he is quite indifferent, and perfectly easy in his mind. "The frequent change of coachmen works no change or variety in the coachman's character. He is always dirty, sullen, and taciturn. If he be capable of smartness of any kind, moral or physical, he has a faculty of concealing it which is truly marvellous. He never speaks to you as you sit beside him on the box, and if you speak to him, he answers (if at all) in monosyllables. He points out nothing on the road, and seldom looks at anything: being, to all appearance, thoroughly weary of it, and of existence generally. As to doing the honours of his coach, his business, as I have said, is with the horses. The coach follows because it is attached to them and goes on wheels: not because you are in it. Sometimes, towards the end of a long stage, he suddenly breaks out into a discordant fragment of an election song, but his face never sings along with him: it is only his voice, and not often that. "He always chews and always spits, and never encumbers himself with a pocket-handkerchief. The consequences to the box passenger, especially when the wind blows toward him, are not agreeable." Hiring a special express coach at Columbus, Dickens and his party went on to Sandusky on Lake Erie alone. His description of the rough, narrow corduroy road is unequaled and no one but Dickens could have penned such a thrilling picture of the half-conquered woodland and its spectral inhabitants: "There being no stage-coach next day, upon the road we wished to take, I hired 'an extra,' at a reasonable charge, to carry us to Tiffin, a small town from whence there is a railroad to Sandusky. This extra was an ordinary four-horse stage-coach, such as I have described, changing horses and drivers, as the stage-coach would, but was exclusively our own for the journey. To ensure our having horses at the proper stations, and being incommoded by no strangers, the proprietors sent an agent on the box, who was to accompany us all the way through; and thus attended, and bearing with us, besides, a hamper full of savoury cold meats, and fruit, and wine; we started off again, in high spirits, at half-past six o'clock next morning, very much delighted to be by ourselves, and disposed to enjoy even the roughest journey. "It was well for us, that we were in this humour, for the road we went over that day, was certainly enough to have shaken tempers that were not resolutely at Set Fair, down to some inches below Stormy. At one time we were all flung together in a heap at the bottom of the coach, and at another we were crushing our heads against the roof. Now, one side was down deep in the mire, and we were holding on to the other. Now, the coach was lying on the tails of the two wheelers; and now it was rearing up in the air, in a frantic state, with all four horses standing on the top of an insurmountable eminence, looking coolly back at it, as though they would say 'Unharness us. It can't be done.' The drivers on these roads, who certainly get over the ground in a manner which is quite miraculous, so twist and turn the team about in forcing a passage, corkscrew fashion, through the bogs and swamps, that it was quite a common circumstance on looking out of the window, to see the coachman with the ends of a pair of reins in his hands, apparently driving nothing, or playing at horses, and the leaders staring at one unexpectedly from the back of the coach, as if they had some idea of getting up behind. A great portion of the way was over what is called a corduroy road, which is made by throwing trunks of trees into a marsh, and leaving them to settle there. The very slightest of the jolts with which the ponderous carriage fell from log to log, was enough, it seemed, to have dislocated all the bones in the human body. It would be impossible to experience a similar set of sensations, in any other circumstances, unless perhaps in attempting to go up to the top of St. Paul's in an omnibus. Never, never once, that day, was the coach in any position, attitude, or kind of motion to which we are accustomed in coaches. Never did it make the smallest approach to one's experience of the proceedings of any sort of vehicle that goes on wheels. "Still, it was a fine day, and the temperature was delicious, and though we had left Summer behind us in the west, and were fast leaving Spring, we were moving towards Niagara and home. We alighted in a pleasant wood towards the middle of the day, dined on a fallen tree, and leaving our best fragments with a cottager, and our worst with the pigs (who swarm in this part of the country like grains of sand on the sea-shore, to the great comfort of our commissariat in Canada), we went forward again, gaily. "As night came on, the track grew narrower and narrower, until at last it so lost itself among the trees, that the driver seemed to find his way by instinct. We had the comfort of knowing, at least, that there was no danger of his falling asleep, for every now and then a wheel would strike against an unseen stump with such a jerk, that he was fain to hold on pretty tight and pretty quick to keep himself upon the box. Nor was there any reason to dread the least danger from furious driving, inasmuch as over that broken ground the horses had enough to do to walk; as to shying, there was no room for that; and a herd of wild elephants could not have run away in such a wood, with such a coach at their heels. So we stumbled along, quite satisfied. "These stumps of trees are a curious feature in American travelling. The varying illusions they present to the unaccustomed eye as it grows dark, are quite astonishing in their number and reality. Now, there is a Grecian urn erected in the centre of a lonely field; now there is a woman weeping at a tomb; now a very comonplace old gentleman in a white waist-coat, with a thumb thrust into each arm-hole of his coat; now a student poring on a book; now a crouching negro; now, a horse, a dog, a cannon, an armed man; a hunch-back throwing off his cloak and stepping forth into the light. They were often as entertaining to me as so many glasses in a magic lantern, and never took their shapes at my bidding, but seemed to force themselves upon me, whether I would or no; and strange to say, I sometimes recognized in them counterparts of figures once familiar to me in pictures attached to childish books, forgotten long ago. "It soon became too dark, however, even for this amusement, and the trees were so close together that their dry branches rattled against the coach on either side, and obliged us all to keep our heads within. It lightened too, for three whole hours; each flash being very bright, and blue, and long; and as the vivid streaks came darting in among the crowded branches, and the thunder rolled gloomily above the tree tops, one could scarcely help thinking that there were better neighbourhoods at such a time than thick woods afforded. "At length, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, a few feeble lights appeared in the distance, and Upper Sandusky, an Indian village, where we were to stay till morning, lay before us." Dickens's description of his visit to "Looking-Glass Prairie" from St. Louis is full of amusement, and contains many vivid pictures of pioneer roads and taverns in the Mississippi Valley: "As I had a great desire to see a Prairie before turning back from the furthest point of my wanderings; and as some gentlemen of the town had, in their hospitable consideration, an equal desire to gratify me; a day was fixed, before my departure, for an expedition to the Looking-Glass Prairie, which is within thirty miles of the town. Deeming it possible that my readers may not object to know what kind of thing such a gipsy party may be at that distance from home, and among what sort of objects it moves, I will describe the jaunt.... "I may premise that the word Prairie is variously pronounced _paraaer_, _parearer_, and _paroarer_. The latter mode of pronunciation is perhaps the most in favour. We were fourteen in all, and all young men: indeed it is a singular though very natural feature in the society of these distant settlements, that it is mainly composed of adventurous persons in the prime of life, and has very few grey heads among it. There were no ladies: the trip being a fatiguing one: and we were to start at five o'clock in the morning punctually.... "At seven o'clock ... the party had assembled, and were gathered round one light carriage, with a very stout axletree; one something on wheels like an amateur carrier's cart; one double phaeton of great antiquity and unearthly construction; one gig with a great hole in its back and a broken head; and one rider on horseback who was to go on before. I got into the first coach with three companions; the rest bestowed themselves in the other vehicles; two large baskets were made fast to the lightest; two large stone jars in wicker cases, technically known as demi-johns, were consigned to the 'least rowdy' of the party for safe keeping; and the procession moved off to the ferry-boat, in which it was to cross the river bodily, men, horses, carriages, and all as the manner in these parts is. "We got over the river in due course, and mustered again before a little wooden box on wheels, hove down all aslant in a morass, with 'MERCHANT TAILOR' painted in very large letters over the door. Having settled the order of proceeding, and the road to be taken, we started off once more and began to make our way through an ill-favoured Black Hollow, called, less expressively, the American Bottom.... "We had a pair of very strong horses, but travelled at the rate of little more than a couple of miles an hour, through one unbroken slough of black mud and water. It had no variety but in depth. Now it was only half over the wheels, now it hid the axletree, and now the coach sank down in it almost to the windows. The air resounded in all directions with the loud chirping of the frogs, who, with the pigs (a coarse, ugly breed, as unwholesome-looking as though they were the spontaneous growth of the country), had the whole scene to themselves. Here and there we passed a log hut; but the wretched cabins were wide apart and thinly scattered, for though the soil is very rich in this place, few people can exist in such a deadly atmosphere. On either side of the track, if it deserve the name, was the thick 'bush;' and everywhere was stagnant, slimy, rotten, filthy water. "As it is the custom in these parts to give a horse a gallon or so of cold water whenever he is in a foam with heat, we halted for that purpose, at a log inn in the wood, far removed from any other residence. It consisted of one room, bare-roofed and bare-walled of course, with a loft above. The ministering priest was a swarthy young savage, in a shirt of cotton print like bed-furniture, and a pair of ragged trousers. There were a couple of young boys, too, nearly naked, lying idly by the well; and they, and he, and _the_ traveller at the inn, turned out to look at us.... "When the horses were swollen out to about twice their natural dimensions (there seems to be an idea here, that this kind of inflation improves their going), we went forward again, through mud and mire, and damp, and festering heat, and brake and bush, attended always by the music of the frogs and pigs, until nearly noon, when we halted at a place called Belleville. "Belleville was a small collection of wooden houses, huddled together in the very heart of the bush and swamp.... The criminal court was sitting, and was at that moment trying some criminals for horse-stealing; with whom it would most likely go hard: for live stock of all kinds being necessarily very much exposed in the woods, is held by the community in rather higher value than human life; and for this reason, juries generally make a point of finding all men indicted for cattle-stealing, guilty, whether or no. The horses belonging to the bar, the judge, and witnesses, were tied to temporary racks set up roughly in the road; by which is to be understood, a forest path, nearly knee-deep in mud and slime. "There was an hotel in this place which, like all hotels in America, had its large dining-room for the public table. It was an odd, shambling, low-roofed out-house, half cowshed and half kitchen, with a coarse brown canvas table-cloth, and tin sconces stuck against the walls, to hold candles at supper-time. The horseman had gone forward to have coffee and some eatables prepared, and they were by this time nearly ready. He had ordered 'wheat-bread and chicken fixings,' in preference to 'corn-bread and common doings.'[47] The latter kind of refection includes only pork and bacon. The former comprehends broiled ham, sausages, veal cutlets, steaks, and such other viands of that nature as may be supposed, by a tolerably wide poetical construction, 'to fix' a chicken comfortably in the digestive organs of any lady or gentleman.... "From Belleville, we went on, through the same desolate kind of waste, and constantly attended, without the interval of a moment, by the same music; until, at three o'clock in the afternoon, we halted once more at a village called Lebanon to inflate the horses again, and give them some corn besides: of which they stood much in need. Pending this ceremony, I walked into the village, where I met a full sized dwelling-house coming down-hill at a round trot, drawn by a score or more of oxen. The public-house was so very clean and good a one, that the managers of the jaunt resolved to return to it and put up there for the night, if possible. This course decided on, and the horses being well refreshed, we again pushed forward, and came upon the Prairie at sunset. "It would be difficult to say why, or how--though it was possibly from having heard and read so much about it--but the effect on me was disappointment. Looking towards the setting sun, there lay, stretched out before my view, a vast expanse of level ground; unbroken, save by one thin line of trees, which scarcely amounted to a scratch upon the great blank; until it met the glowing sky, wherein it seemed to dip: mingling with its rich colours, and mellowing in its distant blue. There it lay, a tranquil sea or lake without water, if such a simile be admissible, with the day going down upon it; a few birds wheeling here and there; and solitude and silence reigning paramount around. But the grass was not yet high; there were bare black patches on the ground; and the few wild flowers that the eye could see, were poor and scanty. Great as the picture was, its very flatness and extent, which left nothing to the imagination, tamed it down and cramped its interest. I felt little of that sense of freedom and exhilaration which a Scottish heath inspires, or even our English downs awaken. It was lonely and wild, but oppressive in its barren monotony. I felt that in traversing the Prairies, I could never abandon myself to the scene, forgetful of all else; as I should do instinctively, were the heather underneath my feet, or an iron-bound coast beyond; but should often glance towards the distant and frequently-receding line of the horizon, and wish it gained and passed. It is not a scene to be forgotten, but it is scarcely one, I think (at all events, as I saw it), to remember with much pleasure, or to covet the looking-on again, in after life. "We encamped near a solitary log-house, for the sake of its water, and dined upon the plain. The baskets contained roast fowls, buffalo's tongue (an exquisite dainty, by the way), ham, bread, cheese, and butter; biscuits, champagne, sherry; lemons and sugar for punch; and abundance of rough ice. The meal was delicious, and the entertainers were the soul of kindness and good humour. I have often recalled that cheerful party to my pleasant recollection since, and shall not easily forget, in junketings nearer home with friends of older date, my boon companions on the Prairie. Returning to Lebanon that night, we lay at the little inn at which we had halted in the afternoon. In point of cleanliness and comfort it would have suffered by no comparison with any village ale-house, of a homely kind, in England.... "After breakfast, we started to return by a different way from that which we had taken yesterday, and coming up at ten o'clock with an encampment of German emigrants carrying their goods in carts, who had made a rousing fire which they were just quitting, we stopped there to refresh. And very pleasant the fire was; for, hot though it had been yesterday, it was quite cold to-day, and the wind blew keenly. Looming in the distance, as we rode along, was another of the ancient Indian burial-places, called The Monks' Mound; in memory of a body of fanatics of the order of La Trappe, who founded a desolate convent there, many years ago, when there were no settlers within a thousand miles, and were all swept off by the pernicious climate: in which lamentable fatality, few rational people will suppose, perhaps, that society experienced any very severe deprivation. "The track of to-day had the same features as the track of yesterday. There was the swamp, the bush, the perpetual chorus of frogs, the rank unseemly growth, the unwholesome steaming earth. Here and there, and frequently too, we encountered a solitary broken-down waggon, full of some new settler's goods. It was a pitiful sight to see one of these vehicles deep in the mire; the axletree broken; the wheel lying idly by its side; the man gone miles away, to look for assistance; the woman seated among their wandering household gods with a baby at her breast, a picture of forlorn, dejected patience; the team of oxen crouching down mournfully in the mud, and breathing forth such clouds of vapour from their mouths and nostrils, that all the damp mist and fog around seemed to have come direct from them. "In due time we mustered once again before the merchant tailor's, and having done so, crossed over to the city in the ferry-boat: passing, on the way, a spot called Bloody Island, the duelling-ground of St. Louis, and so designated in honour of the last fatal combat fought there, which was with pistols, breast to breast. Both combatants fell dead upon the ground; and possibly some rational people may think of them, as of the gloomy madmen on the Monks' Mound, that they were no great loss to the community." For purposes of comparison, the following description of experiences in later times with Indian trails of the West will be of interest. Much that has been deduced from a study of our pioneer history and embodied in the preceding pages finds strong confirmation here; in earlier days, with forests covering the country, the trails were more like roads than in the open prairies of the West; but, as will be seen, many laws governed the earlier and the later Indian thoroughfares, alike. I quote from the Hon. Charles Augustus Murray's memoirs, written three-quarters of a century ago, of a tour in Missouri: "On the 18th we pursued our course, north by east: this was not exactly the direction in which I wished to travel, but two considerations induced me to adopt it at this part of the journey. In the first place, it enabled me to keep along the dividing ridge; an advantage so great, and so well understood by all prairie travellers, that it is worth making a circuit of several miles a day to keep it; and the Indian trails which we have crossed since our residence in the wilderness, convince me that the savages pay the greatest attention to this matter. In a wide extent of country composed of a succession of hills and ridges, it is evident there must be a great number of steep banks, which offer to an inexperienced traveller numerous obstacles, rendering his own progress most toilsome, and that of loaded packhorses almost impossible. If these ridges all ran in parallel lines, and were regular in their formation, nothing would be more simple than to get upon the summit of one, and keep it for the whole day's journey: but such is not the case; they constantly meet other ridges running in a transverse direction; and, of course, large dips and ravines are consequent upon that meeting. The 'dividing ridge' of a district is that which, while it is, as it were, the back-bone of the range of which it forms a part, heads at the same time all the transverse ravines, whether on the right or on the left hand, and thereby spares to the traveller an infinity of toilsome ascent and descent. "I have sometimes observed that an Indian trail wound through a country in a course perfectly serpentine, and appeared to me to travel three miles when only one was necessary. It was not till my own practical experience had made me attend more closely to this matter, that I learnt to appreciate its importance. I think that the first quality in a guide through an unknown range of rolling prairie, is having a good and a quick eye for hitting off the 'dividing ridge;' the second, perhaps, in a western wilderness, is a ready and almost intuitive perception (so often found in an Indian) of the general character of a country, so as to be able to bring his party to water when it is very scarce.... A few miles farther we crossed an old Indian trail I think it was of a Pawnee party, for it bore north by west ... it had not been a war-party, as was evident from the character of the trail. A war-party leaves only the trail of the horses, or, of course, if it be a foot party, the still slighter tracks of their own feet; but when they are on their summer hunt, or migrating from one region to another, they take their squaws and children with them, and this trail can always be distinguished from the former, by two parallel tracks about three and a half feet apart, not unlike those of a light pair of wheels: these are made by the points of the long curved poles on which their lodges are stretched, the thickest or butt ends of which are fastened to each side of the pack-saddle, while the points trail behind the horse; in crossing rough or boggy places, this is often found the most inconvenient part of an Indian camp equipage.... I was fortunate enough to find an Indian trail bearing north by east, which was as near to our destined course as these odious creeks would permit us to go. We struck into it, and it brought us safely, though not without difficulty, through the tangled and muddy bottom in which we had been involved: sometimes a horse floundered, and more than once a pack came off; but upon the whole we had great reason to congratulate ourselves upon having found this trail, by which we escaped in two hours from a place which would, without its assistance, probably have detained us two days. I was by no means anxious to part with so good a friend, and proceeded some miles upon this same trail; it was very old and indistinct, especially in the high and dry parts of the prairie. I left my horse with the rest of the party and went on foot, in order that I might more easily follow the trail, which became almost imperceptible as we reached an elevated district of table-land, which had been burned so close that I very often lost the track altogether for fifty yards. If a fire takes place on a prairie where there is already a distinct trail, it is as easy to follow it, if not more so than before; because the short and beaten grass offering no food to the fire, partly escapes its fury, and remains a green line upon a sea of black; but if the party making the trail pass over a prairie which is already burnt, in the succeeding season when the new grass has grown, it can scarcely be traced by any eye but that of an Indian.... After we had travelled five hours ... I found that the trail which we had been following, merged in another and a larger one, which appeared to run a point to the west of north. This was so far out of our course that I hesitated whether I should not leave it altogether; but, upon reflection, I determined not to do so ... if I attempted to cross the country farther to the eastward, without any trail, I should meet with serious difficulties and delays.... I therefore struck into it, and ere long the result justified my conjecture; for we came to a wooded bottom or valley, which was such a complete jungle, and so extensive, that I am sure, if we had not been guided by the trail, we could not have made our way through it in a week. As it was, the task was no easy one; for the trail, though originally large, was not very fresh, and the weeds and branches had in many places so overgrown it, that I was obliged to dismount and trace it out on foot. It wound about with a hundred serpentine evolutions to avoid the heavy swamps and marshes around us; and I repeatedly thought that, if we lost it, we never should extricate our baggage: even with its assistance, we were obliged frequently to halt and replace the packs, which were violently forced off by the branches with which they constantly came in contact ... 'where on earth is he taking us now?--why we are going back in the same direction as we came!' I turned round and asked the speaker (a comrade) ... to point with his finger to the quarter which he would make for if he were guiding the party to Fort Leavenworth. He did so; and I took out my compass and showed him that he was pointing south-west, _i.e._ to Santa Fé and the Gulf of California: so completely had the poor fellow's head become puzzled by the winding circuit we had made in the swamp."[48] FOOTNOTES: [1] Washington's _Journal_ Sept. 2nd to Oct. 4th, 1784. [2] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. v, ch. 3. [3] This creek rises in Hardy County, Virginia, and flows northeastward through Hampshire County, entering the North Branch of the Potomac River about eight miles southeast of Cumberland, Maryland. [4] Union Township, Monongalia County, West Virginia. [5] Oliphant's Iron Furnace, Union Township? [6] The mountainous boundary line between Monongalia and Preston Counties. [7] Bruceton's Mills, Grant Township, Preston County, West Virginia? [8] Southwestern corner of Maryland, some twenty miles north of Oakland. [9] Briery Mountain runs northeast through the eastern edge of Preston County, bounding Dunkard Bottom on the east as Cheat River bounds it on the west. [10] The Friends were the earliest pioneers of Garrett County, John Friend coming in 1760 bringing six sons among whom was this Charles. The sons scattered about through the valley of the Youghiogheny, Charles settling near the mouth of Sang Run, which cuts through Winding Ridge Mountain and joins the Youghiogheny about fifteen miles due north from Oakland. Washington, moving eastward on McCulloch's Path probably passed through this gap in Winding Ridge. A present-day road runs parallel with Winding Ridge from Friendsville (named from this pioneer family) southward to near Altamont, which route seems to have been that pursued by McCulloch's Path. See Scharf's _History of Western Maryland_, vol. ii, p. 1518; _Atlas of Maryland_ (Baltimore, 1873), pp. 47-48; War Atlas 1861-65, _House Miscellaneous Documents_, vol. iv, part 2, No. 261, 52d Cong. 1st Sess. 1891-92, Plate cxxxvi. [11] Great Back Bone Mountain, Garrett County, Maryland, on which, at Altamont, the Baltimore and Ohio Railway reaches its highest altitude. It was about here that Washington now crossed it, probably on the watershed between Youghiogheny and Potomac waters west of Altamont. [12] Ryan's Glade No. 10, Garrett County. [13] This point is pretty definitely determined in the Journal. We are told that the mouth of Stony River (now Stony Creek) was four miles below McCulloch's crossing. This would locate the latter near the present site of Fort Pendleton, Garrett County, Maryland, the point where the old Northwestern Turnpike crossed the North Branch. [14] Greeland Gap, Grant County, West Virginia. [15] Knobby Mountain. [16] Near Moorefield, Hardy County, West Virginia. [17] Mt. Storm, Grant County. The Old Northwestern Turnpike bears northeast from here to Claysville, Burlington and Romney. Washington's route was southwest along the line of the present road to Moorefield. Evidently the buffalo trace bore southwest on the watershed between Stony River and Abraham's Creek--White's _West Virginia Atlas_ (1873), p. 26. Bradley's _Map of United States_ (1804) shows a road from Morgantown to Romney; also a "Western Fort" at the crossing-place of the Youghiogheny. [18] Dunkard's Bottom, in Portland Township, Preston County, West Virginia, was settled about 1755 by Dr. Thomas Eckarly and brothers who traversed the old path to Fort Pleasant on South Branch.--Thwaites's edition of Withers's _Chronicles of Border Warfare_ (1895), pp. 75-76. [19] _Laws of Virginia_ (1826-1827), pp. 85-87. [20] _Laws of Virginia_ (1831), pp. 153-158; _Journal of the Senate ... of Virginia_ (1830-31), p. 165. [21] See _Historic Highways of America_, vol. ix, pp. 60-64. [22] _Journal of Thomas Wallcutt in 1790_, edited by George Dexter (_Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society_, October, 1879). [23] The Journal begins at the Ohio Company's settlement at Marietta, Ohio. [24] They crossed the Ohio River to the present site of Williamstown, West Virginia, named from the brave and good pioneer Isaac Williams. [25] The Monongahela Trail; see _Historic Highways of America_, vol. ii, pp. 122-124. [26] For an early (1826) map of this region that is reasonably correct, see Herman Böye's _Map of Virginia_ in Massachusetts Historical Society Library. [27] Near Friendsville, Maryland--named in honor of the old pioneer family; see note 10, _ante_; cf. Corey's map of Virginia in his _American Atlas_ (1805), 3d edition; also Samuel Lewis's _Map of Virginia_ (1794). [28] Bellville was the earlier Flinn's Station, Virginia.--S. P. Hildreth's _Pioneer History_, p. 148. [29] The author has, for several years, been looking for an explanation of this interesting obituary; "broadaggs" is, clearly, a corruption of "Braddock's." Of "atherwayes" no information is at hand; it was probably the name of a woodsman who settled here--for "bear camplain" undoubtedly means a "bare _campagne_," or clearing. The word _campagne_ was a common one among American pioneers. Cf. Harris's _Tour_, p. 60. A spot halfway between Cumberland and Uniontown would be very near the point where the road crossed the Pennsylvania state-line. [30] A reminiscent letter written in 1842 for the _American Pioneer_ (vol. i, pp. 73-75). [31] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. vii, pp. 139-148. [32] _Historic Highways of America_, vol. ii, pp. 76-85. [33] The Iroquois Trail likewise left the river valley at this spot. [34] _Laws of New York_, 1794, ch. XXIX. [35] _Laws of New York_, 1796, ch. XXVI. [36] _Id._, ch. XXXIX. [37] _Laws of New York_, 1797, ch. LX. [38] _Laws of New York_, 1798, ch. XXVI. [39] _Laws of New York_, 1797-1800, ch. LXXVIII. [40] Boston, 1876, pp. 11-53. [41] Published by Charles Scribner's Sons, 1901. [41a] This name long since was abandoned. On the opposite side of the river, however, a new settlement grew up under the name of Unadilla, the beginnings of which date about 1790. See the same author's "The Pioneers of Unadilla Village" (Unadilla, 1902).--HALSEY. [42] State Land Papers.--HALSEY. [43] Sluman Wattles's Account Book.--HALSEY. [44] Dr. Dwight's figures are for the township, not for the village, which was then a mere frontier hamlet, of perhaps one hundred souls.--HALSEY. [45] "Reminiscences of Village Life and of Panama and California from 1840 to 1850," by Gains Leonard Halsey, M. D. Published at Unadilla.--HALSEY. [46] A stage line, however, for long years afterward supplied these settlements with a means of communication with Unadilla, and it is within the memory of many persons still calling themselves young that for a considerable series of years, trips twice a week were regularly made by Henry S. Woodruff. After Mr. Woodruff's death a large and interesting collection of coaches, sleighs, and other stage relics remained upon his premises--the last survival of coaching times on the Catskill Turnpike, embracing a period of three-quarters of a century.--HALSEY. [47] See _Historic Highways of America_, vol. xi, p. 199, _note_. [48] _Travels in North America_ (London, 1839), vol. ii, pp. 29-48. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected. 3. Footnotes have been moved to the end of the main text body. 4. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest paragraph break. 5. Carat character (^) followed by a single letter or a set of letters in curly brackets is indicative of subscript in the original book. 
44684	----	THE PILGRIMS' WAY FROM WINCHESTER TO CANTERBURY [Illustration] THE PILGRIMS' WAY FROM WINCHESTER TO CANTERBURY BY JULIA CARTWRIGHT [Illustration] ILLUSTRATED BY A. H. HALLAM MURRAY NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 1911 "From every shire's ende Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende, The holy blissful martyr for to seeke, That them hath holpen when that they were sicke." ALL RIGHTS RESERVED [Illustration: THE APPROACH TO WINCHESTER FROM THE SOUTH] PREFACE This account of the Way trodden by the pilgrims of the Middle Ages through the South of England to the shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury originally appeared in the _Art Journal_ for 1892, with illustrations by Mr. A. Quinton. It was published in the following year as a separate volume, and reprinted in 1895 and 1901. Now by the courtesy of Messrs. Virtue's representatives, and in response to a continued demand, it appears again in a new and revised form, with the additional attraction of illustrations from original drawings by Mr. Hallam Murray. During the twenty years which have elapsed since these pages were first written, a whole literature has grown up round the Pilgrims' Way. Not only have scholarly papers on separate sections of the road appeared in the Journals of Archæological Societies, but several valuable works on the subject have been issued by writers of authority. Mr. H. Snowden-Ward has written a book on "The Canterbury Pilgrimages," in Messrs. A. & C. Black's Pilgrimage Series, in which he deals at length with the life and death, the cult and miracles of St. Thomas, and the different routes taken by pilgrims to his shrine. Mr. Palmer has described a considerable portion of the Way in his treatise on "Three Surrey Churches," and only last autumn Mr. Elliston-Erwood published an excellent little guide-book called "The Pilgrims' Road," for the use of cyclists and pedestrians, in Messrs. Warne's Homeland Pocket-book Series. But the most thorough and systematic attempt to reconstruct the route taken by pilgrims from Winchester to Canterbury has been made by Mr. Belloc in his admirable work, "The Old Road." The author himself walked along the ancient track, and succeeded in filling up many gaps where the road had been lost, and in recovering almost the whole of the Way, "yard by yard from the capital of Hampshire to the capital of Kent." This intimate knowledge of the road and its characteristics have led him to make several alterations in the line of the Way marked on the Ordnance Map, which had hitherto served as the basis of most descriptions. But as Mr. Belloc himself recognises, it is clear that pilgrims often left the original road to visit churches and shrines in the neighbourhood. Thus, in several places, new tracks sprang up along the downs to which local tradition has given the name of the Pilgrims' Way, and which it is not always easy to distinguish from the main road. Like Bunyan's pilgrims, when they came to the foot of the hill Difficulty, "one turned to the left hand, and the other to the right, but the narrow way lay right up the hill." In this edition of my book some obvious errors have been corrected, and certain doubtful points have been cleared up with the help of experience gained by other workers in the same field. But, as a rule, my object has been not so much to draw attention to the actual road as to describe the antiquities and objects of interest which arrest the traveller's notice on his journey. From whatever side we approach it, the subject is a fascinating one. All of these different studies, varied in aims and scope as they may be, bear witness to the perennial interest which the Pilgrims' Way inspires. The beauty of the country through which the old road runs, its historic associations and famous memories, the ancient churches and houses which lie on its course, will always attract those who love and reverence the past, and will lead many to follow in the footsteps of the mediæval pilgrims along the Way to Canterbury. JULIA CARTWRIGHT. OCKHAM, _Nov. 1, 1911_. [Illustration: THE RIVER ITCHEN WHERE IT LEAVES THE TOWN.] CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE PILGRIMS' WAY 1 II. WINCHESTER TO ALTON 20 III. ALTON TO COMPTON 44 IV. COMPTON TO SHALFORD 63 V. SHALFORD TO ALBURY 75 VI. SHERE TO REIGATE 87 VII. REIGATE TO CHEVENING 103 VIII. OTFORD TO WROTHAM 125 IX. WROTHAM TO HOLLINGBOURNE 137 X. HOLLINGBOURNE TO LENHAM 153 XI. CHARING TO GODMERSHAM 167 XII. CHILHAM TO HARBLEDOWN 182 XIII. HARBLEDOWN TO CANTERBURY 193 XIV. THE MARTYR'S SHRINE 203 INDEX 217 NOTE ON THE BINDING The "Canterbury Bell" and the Badges, represented on the cover of the book, were worn by the Pilgrims on their return from the Shrine of St. Thomas. The Badges were made of lead. [Illustration: NEAR WROTHAM WATER.] LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS COLOURED PLATES THE NORMAN TOWER AND SOUTH TRANSEPT, WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL FROM THE NORTH 32 CHAWTON HOUSE 50 THE MOTE, IGHTHAM 136 AYLESFORD BRIDGE 146 COTTAGE AT BOARLEY, NEAR BOXLEY 152 CHARING 170 CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH-WEST 192 HALF-TONES FACING PAGE WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL, SOUTH AISLE OF CHOIR 25 KING'S GATE, WINCHESTER, FROM THE CLOSE 28 LOSELEY 67 THE HOSPITAL, GUILDFORD 72 OLD YEWS AND OAK IN EASTWELL PARK 176 THE WEST GATE, CANTERBURY 194 MERCERY LANE, CANTERBURY 199 THE MARTYRDOM, CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL 205 LINE BLOCKS ON "THE WAY" BETWEEN KEMSING AND OTFORD _Title-page_ THE APPROACH TO WINCHESTER FROM THE SOUTH v THE RIVER ITCHEN WHERE IT LEAVES THE TOWN ix NEAR WROTHAM WATER xi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llustration: ST. CROSS AND ST. KATHERINE'S HILL.] CHAPTER I THE PILGRIMS' WAY Three hundred and seventy years have passed since the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury was swept away, and the martyr's ashes were scattered to the winds. The age of pilgrimages has gone by, the conditions of life have changed, and the influences which drew such vast multitudes of men and women to worship at the murdered Archbishop's tomb have long ago ceased to work on the popular mind. No longer does the merry cavalcade of Chaucer's lay ride forth in the freshness of the spring morning, knight and merchant, scholar and lawyer, Prioress and Wife of Bath, yeoman and priest and friars, a motley company from all parts of the realm, "ready to wenden on their pilgrimage with full devout courage" to Canterbury. The days of pilgrimages are over, their fashion has passed away, but still some part of the route which the travellers took can be traced, and the road they trod still bears the name of the Pilgrims' Way. Over the Surrey hills and through her stately parks the dark yews which lined the path may yet be seen. By many a quiet Kentish homestead the grassy track still winds its way along the lonely hill-side overlooking the blue Weald, and, if you ask its name, the labourer who guides the plough, or the waggoner driving his team, will tell you that it is the Pilgrims' Road to Canterbury. So the old name lives, and the memory of that famous pilgrimage which Chaucer sang has not yet died out of the people's heart. And although strangers journey no longer from afar to the martyrs shrine, it is still a pleasant thing to ride out on a spring or summer morning and follow the Pilgrims' Way. For the scenes through which it leads are fair, and the memories that it wakes belong to the noblest pages of England's story. In those old days the pilgrims who came to Canterbury approached the holy city by one of the three following routes. There was first of all the road taken by Chaucer's pilgrims from London, through Deptford, Greenwich, Rochester, and Sittingbourne; the way trodden by all who came from the North, the Midlands, and the Eastern Counties, and by those foreigners who, like Erasmus, had first visited London. But the greater number of the foreign pilgrims from France, Germany, and Italy landed at Sandwich Haven or Dover, and approached Canterbury from the south; while others, especially those who came from Normandy and Brittany, landed at Southampton and travelled through the southern counties of Hampshire, Surrey, and Kent. Many of these doubtless stopped at Winchester, attracted by the fame of St. Swithun, the great healing Bishop; and either here or else at Guildford, they would be joined by the pilgrims from the West of England on their way to the Shrine of Canterbury. This was the route taken by Henry II. when, landing at Southampton on his return from France, he made his first memorable pilgrimage to the tomb of the murdered Archbishop, in the month of July, 1174. And this route it is, which, trodden by thousands of pilgrims during the next three centuries, may still be clearly defined through the greater part of its course, and which in Surrey and Kent bears the historic name of the Pilgrims' Way. A very ancient path it is, older far than the days of Plantagenets and Normans, of shrines and pilgrimages. For antiquarian researches have abundantly proved this road to be an old British track, which was in use even before the coming of the Romans. It may even have been, as some writers suppose, the road along which caravans of merchants brought their ingots of tin from Cornwall to be shipped at what was then the great harbour of Britain, the Rutupine Port, afterwards Sandwich Haven, and then borne overland to Massilia and the Mediterranean shores. Ingots of tin, buried it may be in haste by merchants attacked on their journey by robbers, have, it is said, been dug up at various places along this route, and British earthworks have been found in its immediate neighbourhood. The road was, there can be no doubt, used by the Romans; and all along its course remains of Roman villas, baths, and pavements have been brought to light, together with large quantities of Roman coins, cinerary urns, and pottery of the most varied description. In mediæval days this "tin road," as Mr. Grant Allen calls it, still remained the principal thoroughfare from the West to the East of England. It followed the long line of hills which runs through the north of Hampshire, and across Surrey and Kent, that famous chalk ridge which has for us so many different associations, with whose scenery William Cobbett, for instance, has made us all familiar in the story of his rides to and from the Wen. And it lay outside the great trackless and impassable forest of Anderida, which in those days still covered a great part of the south-east counties of England. Dean Stanley, in his eloquent account of the Canterbury pilgrimage, describes this road as a byway, and remarks that the pilgrims avoided the regular roads, "probably for the same reason as in the days of Shamgar, the son of Anath, the highways were unoccupied, and the traveller walked through byways." But the statement is misleading, and there can be little doubt that in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries this road was, if not the only means of communication between West and East, at least the principal thoroughfare across this part of England, and was as such the route naturally chosen by pilgrims to Canterbury. Certain peculiarities, it is interesting to notice, mark its course from beginning to end. It clings to the hills, and, wherever it is possible, avoids the marshy ground of the valleys. It runs, not on the summit of the downs, but about half-way down the hill-side, where there is shelter from the wind, as well as sunshine to be had under the crest of the ridge. And its course is marked by rows of yew trees, often remarkable for their size and antiquity. Some of these are at least seven or eight hundred years old, and must have reared their ancient boughs on the hill-side before the feet of pilgrims ever trod these paths. So striking is this feature of the road, and so fixed is the idea that some connection exists between these yew trees and the Pilgrims' Way, that they are often said to have been planted with the express object of guiding travellers along the road to Canterbury. This, however, we need hardly say, is a fallacy. Yews are by no means peculiar to the Pilgrims' Way, but are to be found along every road in chalk districts. They spring up in every old hedgerow on this soil, and are for the most part sown by the birds. But the presence of these venerable and picturesque forms does lend an undeniable charm to the ancient track. And in some places where the line of cultivation gradually spreading upwards has blotted out every other trace of the road, where the ploughshare has upturned the sod, and the hedgerows have disappeared, three or four of these grand old trees may still be seen standing by themselves in the midst of a ploughed field, the last relics of a bygone age. [Illustration: DOORWAY IN CANTERBURY CLOISTERS THROUGH WHICH BECKET PASSED ON HIS WAY TO VESPERS.] The murder of Becket took place on the 29th of December, 1170. At five o'clock on that winter evening, as the Archbishop was on his way to vespers, the King's men, Reginald Fitz Urse and three knights who had accompanied him from Saltwood Castle, rushed upon him with their swords and murdered him in the north transept of his own Cathedral. The tragic circumstance of Becket's end made a profound impression on the people of England, and universal horror was excited by this act of sacrilege. Whatever his faults may have been, the murdered Archbishop had dared to stand up against the Crown for the rights of the Church, and had died rather than yield to the Kings demands. "For the name of Jesus and the defence of the Church I am ready to die," were his last words, as he fell under the assassins' blows. When he landed at Sandwich, on his return from France, the country folk crowded to meet him and hailed him as the father of orphans and deliverer of the oppressed, crying, "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." His journey to Canterbury was one long triumphal procession.[1] The poor looked to him as their champion and defender, who had laid down his life in the cause of freedom and righteousness. Henceforth Thomas became a national hero, and was everywhere honoured as the Martyr of the English. The popular belief in his holiness was confirmed by the miracles that were wrought in his name from the moment of his death. A violent storm broke over the Cathedral when the fatal deed was done, and was followed by a red glow, which illuminated the choir where the dead man's body was laid before the altar. The next day the monks buried the corpse in a marble tomb behind Our Lady's altar in the under-croft. For nearly a year no mass was said in the Cathedral, no music was heard, no bells were rung; the altars were stripped of their ornaments, and the crucifixes and images were covered over. Meanwhile, reports reached Canterbury of the wonderful cures performed by the martyred Archbishop. On the third day after the murder, the wife of a Sussex knight, who suffered from blindness, invoked the blessed martyr's help, and was restored to sight. And on the very night of the burial the paralytic wife of a citizen of Canterbury was cured by a garment which her husband had dipped in the murdered saint's blood. These marvels were followed by a stream of devout pilgrims who came to seek healing at the martyr's tomb or to pay their vows for the mercies which they had received. A monk was stationed at the grave to receive offerings and report the miracles that were wrought to the Chapter. At first these wonders were kept secret, for fear of the King, and of Becket's enemies, the De Brocs, whose men guarded the roads to Canterbury. The doors of the crypt were kept bolted and barred, and only the poor in the town and the neighbouring villages crept to the tomb.[2] But on Easter Day, 1171, the crowds rushed in to see a dumb man who was said to have recovered his speech; and on the following Friday the crypt was thrown open to the public. From that time, writes Benedict, the monk of Canterbury, "the scene of the Pool of Bethesda was daily renewed in the Cathedral, and numbers of sick and helpless persons were to be seen lying on the pavement of the great church."[3] "These great miracles are wrought," wrote John of Salisbury, an intimate friend of Becket, who became Bishop of Chartres in 1176, and was an able statesman and scholar, "in the place of his passion and in the place where he lay before the great altar before his burial, and in the tomb where he was laid at last, the blind see, the deaf hear, the dumb speak, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and, a thing unheard of since the days of our fathers, the dead are raised to life."[4] From all parts of England the sick and suffering now crowded to Canterbury, telling the same marvellous tale, how Thomas had appeared to them robed in white, with the thin red streak of blood across his face, bringing healing and peace. "In towns and villages, in castles and cottages, throughout the kingdom," writes another contemporary chronicler, "every one from the highest to the lowest wishes to visit and honour his tomb. Clerks and laymen, rich and poor, nobles and common people, fathers and mothers with their children, masters with their servants, all come hither, moved by the same spirit of devotion. They travel by day and night in winter and summer, however cold the weather may be, and the inns and hostelries on the road to Canterbury are as crowded with people as great cities are on market days."[5] [Illustration: ST. CROSS FROM THE MEADOWS.] On the 21st of February, 1173, Pope Alexander III. pronounced the decree of canonisation, and fixed the Feast of St. Thomas of Canterbury on the day of the Archbishop's martyrdom. In July, 1174, King Henry II., moved by the reports which reached him in Normandy of the popular enthusiasm for Becket, and fearing the effects of the divine wrath, came himself to do penance at the martyr's tomb. Three months after the King of the English had given this public proof of his penitence and obtained release from the Church's censures, "the glorious choir of Conrad" was destroyed by fire, on the night of September 5, 1174. The rebuilding of the church, which was largely assisted by offerings at Becket's tomb, was not finished until 1220, when the Saint's body was removed to its final resting-place in the new apse at the East end of the Chapel of the Blessed Trinity, where the Archbishop had said his first mass. [Illustration: THE ENTRANCE TO ST. CROSS HOSPITAL.] On Tuesday, July 7, an immense concourse of people of all ranks and ages assembled at Canterbury. "The city and villages round," writes an eye-witness, "were so filled with folk that many had to abide in tents or under the open sky."[6] Free hospitality was given to all, and the streets of Canterbury literally flowed with wine. A stately procession, led by the young King Henry III. and the patriot Archbishop Stephen Langton, entered the crypt, and bore the Saint's remains with solemn ceremonial to their new resting-place. Here a sumptuous shrine, adorned with gold plates and precious gems, wrought "by the greatest master of the craft" that could be found in England, received the martyr's relics, and the new apse became known as "Becket's Crown." The fame of St. Thomas now spread into all parts of the world during the next two centuries, and the Canterbury pilgrimage was the most popular in Christendom. The 7th of July was solemnly set apart as the Feast of the Translation of St. Thomas, and henceforth the splendour of this festival threw the anniversary of the actual martyrdom into the shade. The very fact that it took place in summer and not in winter naturally attracted greater numbers of pilgrims from a distance. And on the jubilees or fiftieth anniversaries of the Translation, the concourse of people assembled at Canterbury was enormous. Besides the crowds attracted by these two chief festivals, pilgrims came to Canterbury in smaller parties at all seasons of the year, but more especially in the spring and summer months. Each year, as Chaucer sings, when the spring-time comes round, "When that Aprille with his showers sweete The drought of Marche had pierced to the roote.... When Zephyrus eke with his sweete breathe Inspired hath in every holt and heathe The tender croppes ... And small fowlës maken melodie, That sleepen all the night with open eye, Then longen folk to go on pilgrimages, And palmers for to seeken strange 'strandës' ... And specially, from every shire's ende Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende, The holy blissful martyr for to seeke That them hath holpen when that they were sicke." [Illustration: BOX HILL.] The passage of these caravans of pilgrims could not fail to leave its mark on the places and the people along their path. The sight of these strange faces, the news they brought, and the tales they told must have impressed the dwellers in these quiet woodlands and lonely hills. And traces of their presence remain to this day on the Surrey downs and in the lanes of Kent. They may, or may not, have been responsible for the edible variety of large white snails, _Helix pomatia_, commonly called Roman snails, which are found in such abundance at Albury in Surrey, and at Charing in Kent, as well as at other places along the road, and which the Norman French pilgrims are traditionally said to have brought over with them. But the memory of their pilgrimage survives in the wayside chapels and shrines which sprung up along the track, in the churches which were built for their benefit, or restored and decorated by their devotion, above all in the local names still in common use along the countryside. Pilgrims' Lodge and Pilgrims' Ferry, Palmers' Wood, Paternoster Lane--these, and similar terms, still speak of the custom which had taken such fast hold of the popular mind during the three hundred and fifty years after the death of Becket, and recall the long processions of pilgrims which once wound over these lonely hills and through these green lanes on their way to the martyr's shrine. [Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH.] CHAPTER II WINCHESTER TO ALTON [Illustration: ROOF OF STRANGERS' HALL, WINCHESTER.] Few traces of the Pilgrims' Way are now to be found in Hampshire. But early writers speak of an old road which led to Canterbury from Winchester, and the travellers' course would in all probability take them through this ancient city. Here the foreign pilgrims who landed at Southampton, and those who came from the West of England, would find friendly shelter in one or other of the religious houses, and enjoy a brief resting-time before they faced the perils of the road. The old capital of Wessex, the home of Alfred, and favourite residence of Saxon and Norman kings, had many attractions to offer to the devout pilgrim. Here was the splendid golden shrine of St. Swithun, the gentle Bishop who had watched over the boyhood of Alfred. In A.D. 971, a hundred years after the Saint's death, his bones had been solemnly removed from their resting-place on the north side of the Minster, where he had humbly begged to be buried" so that the sun might not shine upon him," and laid by Edgar and Dunstan behind the altar of the new Cathedral which Bishop Ethelwold had raised on the site of the ancient church of Birinus. This was done, says the chronicler Wulfstan, although the Saint himself "protested weeping that his body ought not to be set in God's holy church amidst the splendid memorials of the ancient fathers," a legend which may have given rise to the popular tradition of the forty days' rain, and the supposed delay in the Saint's funeral. From that time countless miracles were wrought at the shrine of St. Swithun, and multitudes from all parts of England flocked to seek blessing and healing at the great church which henceforth bore his name. [Illustration: THE WEST GATE, WINCHESTER.] Under the rule of Norman and Angevin kings, the venerable city had attained the height of wealth and prosperity. In those days the population numbered some 20,000, and there are said to have been as many as 173 churches and chapels within its wall. In spite of the horrors of civil war, which twice desolated the streets, in the time of Stephen and Henry III., the frequent presence of the court and the energy of her prince-bishops had made Winchester a centre of religious and literary activity. And, although after the death of Henry III., who throughout his long life remained faithful to his native city, royal visits became few and far between, and the old capital lost something of its brilliancy, there was still much to attract strangers and strike the imagination of the wayfarer who entered her gates in the fifteenth century. Few mediæval cities could boast foundations of equal size and splendour. There was the strong castle of Wolvesey, where the bishops reigned in state, and the royal palace by the West gate, built by King Henry III., with the fair Gothic hall which he had decorated so lavishly. There was the Hospital of St. Cross, founded by the warrior-bishop, Henry de Blois, and the new College of St. Mary, which William of Wykeham, the great master-builder, had reared in the meadows known as the Greenery, or promenade of the monks of St. Swithun. Another venerable hospital, that of St. John's, claimed to have been founded by Birinus, and on Morne Hill, just outside the East gate, stood a hospital for lepers, dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene. There, conspicuous among a crowd of religious houses by their wealth and antiquity, were the two great Benedictine communities of St. Swithun and Hyde. And there, too, was the grand Norman church which the Conqueror's kinsman, Bishop Walkelin, had raised on the ruins of Ethelwold's Minster, with its low massive tower and noble transepts, and the long nave roofed in with solid trees of oak cut down in Hempage Wood. Three centuries later, William of Wykeham transformed the nave after the latest fashion of architecture, cut through the old Norman work, carried up the piers to a lofty height, and replaced the flat wooden roof by fine stone groining. But the Norman tower and transepts of Bishop Walkelin's church still remain to-day almost unchanged. [Illustration: WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL, SOUTH AISLE OF CHOIR.] So great was the concourse of pilgrims to St. Swithun's shrine in the early part of the fourteenth century, that Bishop Godfrey Lucy enlarged the eastward portion of the church, and built, as it were, another church, with nave, aisles, and Lady Chapel of its own, under the same roof. The monks had no great love for the lower class of pilgrims who thronged their doors, and took good care to keep them out of the conventual precincts. They were only allowed to enter the Minster by a doorway in the north transept, and, once they had visited the shrine and duly made their offerings, they were jealously excluded from the rest of the church by those fine ironwork gates still preserved in the Cathedral, and said to be the oldest specimen of the kind in England. [Illustration: ON THE RIVER ITCHEN, WINCHESTER.] Towards the close of the century, in the reign of Edward I., the fine old building still known as the Strangers' Hall was built by the monks of St. Swithun at their convent gate, for the reception of the poorer pilgrims. Here they found food and shelter for the night. They slept, ate their meals, and drank their ale, and made merry round one big central fire. The hall is now divided, and is partly used as the Dean's stable, partly enclosed in a Canon's house, but traces of rudely carved heads, a bearded king, and a nun's face are still visible on the massive timbers of the vaulted roof, blackened with the smoke of bygone ages. In the morning the same pilgrims would wend their way to the doors of the Prior's lodging, and standing under the three beautiful pointed arches which form the entrance to the present Deanery, would there receive alms in money and fragments of bread and meat to help them on their journey. [Illustration: KING'S GATE, WINCHESTER, FROM THE CLOSE.] The route which they took on leaving Winchester is uncertain. It is not till we approach Alton that we find the first traces of the Pilgrims' Way, but in all probability they followed the Roman road which still leads to Silchester and London along the valley of the river Itchen. Immediately outside the city gates they would find themselves before another stately pile of conventual buildings, the great Abbey of Hyde. This famous Benedictine house, founded by Alfred, and long known as the New Minster, was first removed from its original site near the Cathedral in the twelfth century. Finding their house damp and unhealthy, and feeling themselves cramped in the narrow space close to the rival monastery of St. Swithun, the monks obtained a charter from Henry I. giving them leave to settle outside the North gate. In the year 1110, they moved to their new home, bearing with them the wonder-working shrine of St. Josse, the great silver cross given to the New Minster by Cnut, and a yet more precious relic, the bones of Alfred the Great. Here in the green meadows on the banks of the Itchen they reared the walls of their new convent and the magnificent church which, after being in the next reign burnt to the ground by fire-balls from Henry of Blois' Castle at Wolvesey, rose again from the flames fairer and richer than before. Here it stood till the Dissolution, when Thomas Wriothesley, Cromwell's Commissioner, stripped the shrine of its treasures, carried off the gold and jewels, and pulled down the abbey walls to use the stone in the building of his own great house at Stratton. "We intend," he wrote to his master, after describing the riches of gold and silver plate, the crosses studded with pearls, chalices, and emeralds on which he had lain sacrilegious hands, "both at Hyde and St. Mary to sweep away all the rotten bones that be called relics; which we may not omit, lest it be thought we came more for the treasure than for the avoiding of the abomination of idolatry." Considerable fragments of the building still remained. In Milner's time the ruins covered the whole meadow, but towards the end of the last century the city authorities fixed on the spot as the site of a new bridewell, and all that was left of the once famous Abbey was then destroyed. The tombs of the dead were rifled. At every stroke of the spade some ancient sepulchre was violated, stone coffins containing chalices, croziers, rings, were broken open and bones scattered abroad. Then the ashes of the noblest of our kings were blown to the winds, and the resting-place of Ælfred remains to this day unknown. A stone marked with the words, Ælfred Rex, DCCCLXXXI., was carried off by a passing stranger, and is now to be seen at Corby Castle, in Cumberland. To-day an old gateway near the church of St. Bartholomew and some fragments of the monastery wall are the only remains of Alfred's new Minster. From this spot an ancient causeway, now commonly known as the Nuns' Walk, but which in the last century bore the more correct title of the Monks' Walk, leads alongside of a stream which supplied Hyde Abbey with water, for a mile and a half up the valley to Headbourne[7] Worthy. The path is cool and shady, planted with a double row of tall elms, and as we look back we have beautiful views of the venerable city and the great Cathedral sleeping in the quiet hollow, dreaming of all its mighty past. Above, scarred with the marks of a deep railway cutting, and built over with new houses, is St. Giles' Hill, where during many centuries the famous fair was held each September. Foreign pilgrims would gaze with interest on the scene of that yearly event, which had attained a world-wide fame, and attracted merchants from all parts of France, Flanders, and Italy. The green hill-side from which we look down on the streets and towers of Winchester presented a lively spectacle during that fortnight. The stalls were arranged in long rows and called after the nationality of the vendors of the goods they sold. There was the Street of Caen, of Limoges, of the Flemings, of the Genoese, the Drapery, the Goldsmiths' Stall, the Spicery, held by the monks of St. Swithun, who drove a brisk trade in furs and groceries on these occasions. All shops in the city and for seven leagues round were closed during the fair, and local trade was entirely suspended. The mayor handed over the keys of the city for the time being to the bishop, who had large profits from the tolls and had stalls at the fair himself, while smaller portions went to the abbeys, and thirty marks a year were paid to St. Swithun's for the repair of the great church. The Red King first granted his kinsman, Bishop Walkelin, the tolls of this three days' fair at St. Giles' feast, which privilege was afterwards extended to a period of sixteen days by Henry III. The great fair lasted until modern times, but in due course was removed from St. Giles' Hill into the city itself. "As the city grew stronger and the fair weaker," writes Dean Kitchin, "it slid down St. Giles' Hill and entered the town, where its noisy ghost still holds revel once a year." [Illustration: WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL FROM THE NORTH] Leaving these historic memories behind us we follow the Monks' Walk until we reach Headbourne Worthy, the first of a group of villages granted by Egbert, in 825, to St. Swithun's Priory, and bearing this quaint name, derived from the Saxon _woerth_--a homestead. The church here dates from Saxon times, and claims to have been founded by St. Wilfred. The rude west doorway and chancel arch are said to belong to Edward the Confessor's time. Over the west archway, which now leads into a fifteenth-century chapel, is a fine sculptured bas-relief larger than life, representing the Crucifixion and the Maries, which probably originally adorned the exterior of the church. But the most interesting thing in the church is the brass to John Kent, a Winchester scholar, who died in 1434. The boy wears his college gown and his hair is closely cut, while a scroll comes out of his lips bearing the words: "Misericordiam Dni inetum cantabo." Next we reach Kingsworthy, so called because it was once Crown property, a pretty little village with low square ivy-grown church-tower and lych-gate, and a charming old-fashioned inn standing a little back from the road. [Illustration: THATCHED COTTAGE, MARTYR WORTHY.] The third of the Worthys, Abbotsworthy, is now united to Kingsworthy. Passing through its little street of houses, a mile farther on we reach Martyrsworthy, a still smaller village with another old Norman church and low thatched cottages, picturesquely placed near the banks of the river, which is here crossed by a wooden foot-bridge. But all this part of the Itchen valley has the same charm. Everywhere we find the same old farmhouses with mullioned windows and sundials and yew trees, the same straggling roofs brilliant with yellow lichen, and the same cottages and gardens gay with lilies and phloxes, the same green lanes shaded with tall elms and poplars, the same low chalk hills and wooded distances closing in the valley, and below the bright river winding its way through the cool meadows. "The Itchen--the beautiful Itchen valley," exclaims Cobbett, as he rides along this vale of meadows. "There are few spots in England more fertile, or more pleasant, none, I believe, more healthy. The fertility of this vale and of the surrounding country is best proved by the fact that, besides the town of Alresford and that of Southampton, there are seventeen villages, each having its parish church, upon its borders. When we consider these things, we are not surprised that a spot situated about half-way down this vale should have been chosen for the building of a city, or that that city should have been for a great number of years the place of residence for the kings of England." [Illustration: CHILLAND FARM, NEAR ITCHEN ABBAS.] Towards Itchen Abbas--of the Abbot--the valley opens, and we see the noble avenues and spreading beeches of Avington Park, long the property of the Dukes of Chandos, and often visited by Charles II. while Wren was building his red-brick palace at Winchester. Here the Merry Monarch feasted his friends in a banqueting-hall that is now a greenhouse, and a room in the old house bore the name of Nell Gwynne's closet. In those days it was the residence of the notorious Lady Shrewsbury, afterwards the wife of George Brydges, a member of the Chandos family, the lady whose first husband, Francis, Earl of Shrewsbury, was slain fighting in a duel with George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, while the Countess herself, disguised as a page, held her lover's horse. The river winds through the park, and between the over-arching boughs of the forest trees we catch lovely glimpses of wood and water. In the opposite direction, but also close to Itchen Abbas, is another well-known seat, Lord Ashburton's famous Grange, often visited by Carlyle. Here the dark tints of yew and fir mingle with the bright hues of lime and beech and silver birch on the banks of a clear lake, and long grassy glades lead up to wild gorse-grown slopes of open down. Still following the river banks we reach Itchen Stoke, another picturesque village with timbered cottages and mossy roofs. A little modern church, with high-pitched roof and lancet windows having a curiously foreign air, stands among the tall pines on a steep bank above the stream. But here our pleasant journey along the fair Itchen valley comes to an end, and, leaving the river-side, we climb the hilly road which leads us into Alresford. New Alresford, a clean, bright little town, with broad street, planted with rows of trees, boasts an antiquity which belies its name, and has been a market-town and borough from time immemorial. Like its yet more venerable neighbour, Old Alresford, it was given by a king of the West Saxons to the prior and monks of St. Swithun at Winchester, and formed part of the vast possessions of the monastery at the Conquest. Both places took their name from their situation on a ford of the Arle or Alre river, a considerable stream which joins the Itchen below Avington, and is called by Leland the Alresford river. In the eleventh century New Alresford had fallen into decay, and probably owes its present existence to Bishop Godfrey Lucy, who rebuilt the town, and obtained a charter from King John restoring the market, which had fallen into disuse. At the same time he gave the town the name of New Market, but the older one survived, and the Bishop's new title was never generally adopted. The same energetic prelate bestowed a great deal of care and considerable attention on the water supply of Winchester, and made the Itchen navigable all the way from Southampton to Alresford. In recognition of this important service, Bishop Lucy received from King John the right of levying toll on all leather, hides, and other goods which entered Winchester by the river Itchen through this canal, a right which descended to his successors in the see. South-west of the town is the large pond or reservoir which he made to supply the waters of the Itchen. This lake, which still covers about sixty acres, is a well-known haunt of moor-hens and other waterfowl, and the flags and bulrushes which fringe its banks make it a favourable resort of artists. Old Alresford itself, with its gay flower-gardens, tall elms, pretty old thatched cottages grouped round the village green, may well supply them with more than one subject for pen and pencil. [Illustration: NEW ALRESFORD.] New Alresford was at one time a flourishing centre of the cloth trade, in which the Winchester merchants drove so brisk a trade at St. Giles' Fair. The manufacture of woollen cloth was carried on till quite recent times, and Dean Kitchin tells us that there are old men still living who remember driving with their fathers to the fair at Winchester on St. Giles' day, to buy a roll of blue cloth to provide the family suits for the year. But New Alresford shared the decline as it had shared the prosperity of its more important neighbour, and suffered even more severely than Winchester in the Civil Wars, when the town was almost entirely burnt down by Lord Hopton's troops after their defeat in Cheriton fight. The scene of that hard-fought battle, which gave Winchester into Waller's hands and ruined the King's cause in the West of England, lies a few miles to the south of Alresford. Half-way between the two is Tichborne Park, the seat of a family which has owned this estate from the days of Harold, and which took its name from the stream flowing through the parish, and called the Ticceborne in Anglo-Saxon records. In modern times a well-known case has given the name of Tichborne an unenviable notoriety, but members of this ancient house have been illustrious at all periods of our history, and the legend of the Tichborne Dole so long associated with the spot deserves to be remembered. In the reign of Henry I., Isabella, the wife of Sir Roger Tichborne, a lady whose long life had been spent in deeds of mercy, prayed her husband as she lay dying to grant her as much land as would enable her to leave a dole of bread for all who asked alms at the gates of Tichborne on each succeeding Lady Day. Sir Roger was a knight of sterner stuff, and seizing a flaming brand from the hearth he told his wife jestingly that she might have as much land as she could herself walk over before the burning torch went out. Upon which the sick lady caused herself to be borne from her bed to a piece of ground within the manor, and crawled on her knees and hands until she had encircled twenty-three acres. The actual plot of ground still bears the name of Lady Tichborne's Crawles, and there was an old prophecy which said that the house of Tichborne would only last as long as the dying bequest of Isabella was carried out. During the next six centuries, nineteen hundred small loaves were regularly distributed to the poor at the gates on Lady Day, and a miraculous virtue was supposed to belong to bread thus bestowed. The custom was only abandoned a hundred years ago, owing to the number of idlers and bad characters which it brought into the neighbourhood, and a sum of money equal in amount to the Dole is given to the poor of the parish in its stead. Whether any of our Canterbury pilgrims stopped in their course to avail themselves of the Tichborne Dole we cannot say, but there was a manor-house of the Bishops of Winchester at Bishop Sutton, near Alresford, where they would no doubt find food and shelter. Nothing now remains of the episcopal palace, and no trace of its precincts is preserved but the site of the bishop's kennels. After crossing the river at Alresford the pilgrims turned north-east, and according to an old tradition their road led them through the parish of Ropley, a neighbouring village where Roman remains have been discovered. A little further on the same track, close to Rotherfield Park, where the modern mansion of Pelham now stands, was an ancient house which bore the name of Pilgrims' Place, and is indicated as such in old maps. [Illustration: THE HOG'S BACK.] CHAPTER III ALTON TO COMPTON A few miles to the right of the road is a place which no pilgrim of modern times can leave unvisited--Selborne, White's Selborne, the home of the gentle naturalist whose memory haunts these rural scenes. Here he lived in the picturesque house overgrown with creepers, with the sunny garden and dial at the back, and the great spreading oak where he loved to study the ways of the owls, and the juniper tree, which, to his joy, survived the Siberian winter of 1776. And here he died, and lies buried in the quiet churchyard in the shade of the old yew tree where he so often stood to watch his favourite birds. Not a stone but what speaks of him, not a turn in the village street but has its tale to tell. The play-stow, or village green, which Adam de Gurdon granted to the Augustinian Canons of Selborne in the thirteenth century, where the prior held his market of old, and where young and old met on summer evenings under the big oak, and "sat in quiet debate" or "frolicked and danced" before him; the farmhouse which now marks the site of the ancient Priory itself, founded by Peter de Rupibus, Bishop of Winchester, in 1232--he has described them all. How the good Canons grew lazy and secular in their ways after a time, how William of Wykeham found certain of them professed hunters and sportsmen, and tried in vain to reform them, and how the estates were finally handed over to the new college of St. Mary Magdalene at Oxford, by its founder, William of Waynflete--Gilbert White has already told us. The Hanger, with its wooded slopes, rising from the back of his garden, and that "noble chalk promontory" of Nore Hill, planted with the beeches which he called the most lovely of all forest trees, how familiar they seem to us! Still the swifts wheel to and fro round the low church-tower, and the crickets chirp in the long grass, and the white owl is heard at night, just as when he used to linger under the old walls and watch their manners with infinite care and love. [Illustration: JANE AUSTEN'S HOUSE, CHAWTON.] One of the "rocky hollow lanes" which lead towards Alton will take us back into the road, and bring us to Chawton, a village about a mile from that town. The fine Elizabethan manor-house at the foot of the green knoll, and the grey church peeping out of the trees close by, have been for centuries the home and burial-place of the Knights. On the south side of the chancel a black and white marble monument records the memory of that gallant cavalier, Sir Richard Knight, who risked life and fortune in the Royal cause, and was invested with the Order of the Royal Oak by Charles II. after the Restoration. But it is as the place where Jane Austen, in George Eliot's opinion, "the greatest artist that has ever written," composed her novels, that Chawton is memorable. The cottage where she lived is still standing a few hundred yards from the "great house," which was the home of the brother and nieces to whom she was so fondly attached. She and her sister, Cassandra, settled there in 1809, and remained there until May, 1817, when they moved to the corner house of College Street, Winchester, where three months afterwards she died. During the eight years spent in this quiet home, Jane Austen attained the height of her powers and wrote her most famous novels, those works which she herself said cost her so little, and which in Tennyson's words have given her a place in English literature "next to Shakespeare." "Sense and Sensibility," her first novel, was published two years after the move to Chawton. "Persuasion," the last and most finished of the immortal series, was only written in 1816, a year before her death. Seldom, indeed, has so great a novelist led so retired an existence. The life at Chawton, so smooth in its even flow, with the daily round of small excitements and quiet pleasures, the visits to the "great house," and walks with her nieces in the woods, the shopping expeditions to Alton, the talk about new bonnets and gowns, and the latest news as to the births, deaths, and marriages of the numerous relatives in Kent and Hampshire, are faithfully reflected in those pleasant letters of Jane Austen, which her great-nephew, Lord Brabourne, gave to the world. There is a good deal about her flowers, her chickens, her niece's love affairs, the fancy work on which she is engaged, the improvements in the house and garden--"You cannot imagine," she writes on one occasion, "it is not in human nature to imagine, what a nice walk we have round the orchard!"--but very little indeed about her books. Almost the only allusion we find to one of her characters is in 1816, when she writes to Fanny Knight of Anne Elliot in "Persuasion." "_You_ may perhaps like the heroine, as she is almost too good for me!" Anything like fame or publicity was positively distasteful to her. She owns to feeling absolutely terrified when a lady in town asked to be introduced to her, and then adds laughingly, "If I am a wild beast I cannot help it, it is not my fault!" Curiously enough, the Pilgrims' Way, in the later course of its path, brings us to Godmersham, that other and finer home of the Knights on the Kentish Downs, a place also associated with Jane Austen's life and letters, where she spent many pleasant hours in the midst of her family, enjoying the beauty of the spot and its cheerful surroundings. But Chawton retains the supremacy as her own home, and as the scene of those literary labours that were cut short, alas! too soon. "What a pity," Sir Walter Scott exclaimed, after reading a book of hers, "what a pity such a gifted creature died so early!" [Illustration: CHAWTON HOUSE] From Chawton it is a short mile to Alton, famous for its breweries and hop gardens, and its church door, riddled with the bullets of the Roundheads. Our way now leads us through the woods of Alice Holt--Aisholt--the Ash wood; like Woolmer, a royal forest from Saxon times. Alice Holt was renowned for the abundance of its fallow deer, which made it a favourite hunting ground with the Plantagenet kings, and on one occasion Edward II., it is said, gave one of his scullions, Morris Ken, the sum of twenty shillings because he fell from his horse so often out hunting, "which made the king laugh exceedingly." Here, too, after the battle of Evesham, Edward, Prince of Wales, defeated Adam de Gurdon, one of Simon de Montfort's chief followers. He is said to have challenged the rebel baron to a single combat, in which Gurdon was wounded and made prisoner, but the victor spared his life and afterwards obtained a royal pardon for his vanquished foe. A wild rugged tract of country, Alice Holt was a chosen haunt of robbers and outlaws, the terror of the wealthy London merchants who journeyed to St. Giles' Fair at Winchester, and in the fourteenth century the wardens of the fair kept five mounted serjeants-at-arms in the forest near Alton, for their protection at that season. Soon after leaving Alton the pilgrims would catch their first sight of the river Wey, which rises close to the town. Along the banks of this stream, flowing as it does through some of the loveliest Surrey scenery, their road was now to lie, and not until they crossed St. Katherine's ferry, at Guildford, were they finally to lose sight of its waters. The river itself, more than one writer has suggested, may owe its name to this circumstance, and have been originally called the Way river from the ancient road which followed the early part of its course. [Illustration: FARNHAM CASTLE.] Leaving Froyle Park, Sir Hubert Miller's fine Jacobean house, on our left, we pass Bentley Station, and, still following the river, join the Portsmouth road just before entering Farnham. This town, which takes its name from the commons overgrown with fern and heather still to be seen in the neighbourhood on the Surrey side, is now surrounded with hop gardens. It was among the earliest possessions of the Bishops of Winchester, and formed part of the land granted to St. Swithun, in 860, by Alfred's elder brother, Ethelbald, King of Wessex. The Castle-palace, which still looks proudly down on the streets of the little town, was first built by that magnificent prelate, Henry of Blois, but little of the original building now remains except the offices, where some round Norman pillars may still be seen. Farnham Castle was partly destroyed by Henry III. during his wars with the barons, and suffered greatly at the hands of the rebels in the time of Charles I., but was afterwards rebuilt by Bishop Morley. Queen Elizabeth paid frequent visits here, and on one occasion, while dining in the great hall with the Duke of Norfolk, who was suspected of planning a marriage with Mary Queen of Scots, pleasantly advised the Duke to be careful on what pillow he laid his head. The lawn, with its stately cedars and grass-grown moat, deserves a visit, but the most interesting part of the building is the fine old keep with its massive buttresses and thirteenth-century arches, commanding a wide view over the elm avenues of the park, and the commons which stretch eastward on the Surrey side. Prominent in the foreground are the picturesque heights of Crooksbury, crowned with those tall pines which Cobbett climbed when he was a boy, to take the nests of crows and magpies. Farnham, it must be remembered, was the birthplace of this remarkable man, and it was at Ash, a small town at the foot of the Hog's Back, that he died in 1835. All his life long he retained the fondest affection for these scenes of his youth. In 1825 he brought his son Richard, then a boy of eleven, to see the little old house in the street where he had lived with his grandmother, and showed him the garden at Waverley where he worked as a lad, the tree near the Abbey from which he fell into the river in a perilous attempt to take a crow's nest, and the strawberry beds where he gathered strawberries for Sir Robert Rich's table, taking care to eat the finest! Among these hills and commons, where he followed the hounds on foot at ten years old, and rode across country at seventy, we forget the political aspect of his life, his bitter invectives against the Poor-laws and Paper-money, the National Debt and the System, and think rather of his keen love of nature and delight in the heaths, the sandy coppices, and forests of Surrey and Hampshire. And now he sleeps in the church of Farnham, where he desired to be buried, in the heart of the wild scenery which he loved so well. [Illustration: CROOKSBURY FROM NEWLANDS CORNER.] Just under Crooksbury, that "grand scene" of Cobbett's "exploits," lies Moor Park, the retreat of Sir William Temple in his old age, which seemed to him, to quote his own words, "the sweetest place, I think, that I have ever seen in my life, either before or since, at home or abroad." There we may still see the gardens which the statesman of the Triple Alliance laid out after the fashion of those which he remembered in Holland, where he enjoyed the companionship of his beloved sister, Lady Giffard, and where his heart lies buried under the sundial. Here Swift lived as his secretary, and learnt from King William III. how to cut asparagus; here he wrote the "Tale of a Tub," and made love to Mrs. Hester Johnson, Lady Giffard's pretty black-eyed waiting-maid. The memory of that immortal love-story has not yet perished, and the house where she lived is still known as Stella's Cottage. Here, too, just beyond Moor Park, on the banks of the Wey, are the ruins of Waverley Abbey, the first Cistercian house ever founded in England, often described as "le petit Cîteaux," and the mother of many other abbeys. The more distinguished pilgrims who stopped at Farnham would taste the hospitality of the monks of Waverley, and Henry III. was on one occasion their guest. The Abbot of Waverley, too, was a great personage in these parts, and his influence extended over several parishes through which the pilgrims had to pass, although the privileges which he claimed were often disputed by the Prior of Newark, the other ecclesiastical magnate who reigned in this part of Surrey. Pilgrims of humbler rank would find ample accommodation in the ancient hostelries of Farnham, which was at that time a place of considerable importance, and returned two members to Edward II.'s Parliament. Their onward course now lay along the banks of the Wey until they reached the foot of the narrow, curiously shaped chalk ridge known as the Hog's Back. Here, at a place called Whiteway End, the end of the white chalk road, two roads divide. Both lead to Guildford, the one keeping on the crest of the ridge, the other along its southern slope. The upper road has become an important thoroughfare in modern times, and is now the main road from Farnham to Guildford; the lower is a grassy lane, not always easy to follow, and little used in places, which leads through the parishes of Seale, Puttenham, and Compton, the bright little villages which stud the sides of the Hog's Back. This green woodland path under the downs was the ancient British and Roman track along which the Canterbury pilgrims journeyed, and which is still in some places spoken of by the inhabitants as the Way. Other names in local use bear the same witness. Beggar's Corner and Robber's or Roamer's Moor are supposed to owe their appellations to the pilgrims: while the ivy-grown manor-house of Shoelands, bearing the date of 1616 on its porch, is said to take its name from the word "to shool," which in some dialects has the same meaning as "to beg." Another trace of the Pilgrimage is to be found in the local fairs which are still held in the towns and villages along the road, and which were fixed at those periods of the year when the pilgrims would be either going to Canterbury or returning from there. Thus we find that at Guildford the chief fair took place at Christmas, when the pilgrims would be on their way to the winter festival of St. Thomas, and was only altered to September in 1312, by which time the original day of the Saint's martyrdom had ceased to be as popular as the summer feast. Again the great fair at Shalford was fixed for the Feast of the Assumption, the 15th of August, so as to catch the stream of pilgrims which flowed back from Canterbury after the Feast of the Translation in July, and the seven days' fair there, that went by the name of Becket's fair. Fairs soon came to be held not only at towns such as Farnham, Guildford, and Shalford, but at the small villages along the Pilgrims' Road. There was one in the churchyard at Puttenham, and another at Wanborough, a church on the northern side of the hill, which belonged to Waverley Abbey, where the offerings made by the pilgrims formed part of the payments yearly received by the Abbot, while a third was held on St. Katharine's Hill during five days in September. Even the churches along the road often owed their existence to the Pilgrimage. The church of Seale was built early in the thirteenth century by the Abbots of Waverley, and that of Wanborough was rebuilt by the same Abbots, and was again allowed to fall into decay when the days of pilgrimages were over. Both the sister chapels of St. Katharine and St. Martha, we shall see, owed their restoration to the pilgrims' passage, and many more along the Way were either raised in honour of St. Thomas, or else adorned with frescoes and altar-pieces of the Martyrdom. Along this pleasant Surrey hill-side the old Canterbury pilgrims journeyed, going from church to church, from shrine to shrine, and more especially if their pilgrimage took place in summer, enjoying the sweet country air and leafy shades of this quiet woodland region. They lingered, we may well believe, at the village fairs, and stopped at every town to see the sights and hear the news; for the pilgrim of mediæval days was, as Dean Stanley reminds us, a traveller with the same adventures, stories, pleasures, pains, as the traveller of our own times, and men of every type and class set out on pilgrimages much as tourists to-day start on a foreign trip. Some, no doubt, undertook the journey from devotion, and more in a vague hope of reaping some profit, both material and spiritual, from a visit to the shrine of the all-powerful Saint, while a thousand other motives--curiosity, love of change and adventure, the pleasure of a journey--prompted the crowds who thronged the road at certain seasons of the year. Chaucer's company of pilgrims we know was a motley crew, and included men and women whose characters were as varied as their rank and trade. With them came a throng of jugglers and story-tellers and minstrels, who beguiled the way with music and laughter as they rode or walked along, so that "every town they came through, what with the noise of their singing, and with the sound of their piping, and with the jangling of their Canterbury bells, and with the barking of the dogs after them, they made more noise than if the king came there with all his clarions." In their train, too, a crowd of idle folk, of roving pedlars and begging friars and lazy tramps, who were glad of any excuse to beg a crust or coin. The presence of these last was by no means always welcome at the inns and religious houses on the road, where doubtful characters often craved admittance, knowing that if the hand of justice overtook them they could always find refuge in one of those churches where the rights of sanctuary were so resolutely claimed and so jealously defended by the Abbot of Waverley or the Prior of Newark. [Illustration: COMPTON VILLAGE.] CHAPTER IV COMPTON TO SHALFORD Following the Pilgrims' Way along the southern slopes of the Hog's Back, we cross Puttenham Heath, and reach the pretty little village of Compton. Here, nestling under the downs, a few hundred yards from the track, is a beautiful old twelfth-century church, which was there before the days of St. Thomas. This ancient structure, dedicated to St. Nicholas, still retains some good stained glass and boasts a unique feature in the shape of a double-storied chancel. The east end of the church is crossed by a low semicircular arch enriched with Norman zigzag moulding, and surmounted by a rude screen, which is said to be the oldest piece of wood-work in England. Both the upper and the lower sanctuaries have piscinas, and there is an Early English one in the south aisle. The massive bases of the chalk pillars, the altar-tomb north of the chancel--probably an Eastern sepulchre--and a hagioscope now blocked up, all deserve attention, as well as the fine Jacobean pulpit and chancel screen, which is now placed under the tower arch. [Illustration: COMPTON CHURCH.] [Illustration: LOSELEY.] A mile to the west of this singularly interesting church is Loseley, the historic mansion of the More and Molyneux family. This manor was Crown property in the reign of Edward the Confessor, and is described in Domesday Book as the property of the Norman Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury, on whom it was bestowed by the Conqueror. After passing through many hands it was finally bought from the Earl of Gloucester, early in the sixteenth century, by Sir Christopher More, whose son, Sir William, built the present mansion. The grand old house with its grey-stone gables and mullioned windows is a perfect specimen of Elizabethan architecture. The broad grass terrace along the edge of the moat, the yew hedges with their glossy hues of green and purple, the old-fashioned borders full of bright flowers, and the low pigeon-houses standing at each angle, all remain as they were in the reign of James I., and agree well with Lord Bacon's idea of what a pleasance ought to be. Within, the walls are wainscoted with oak panelling throughout, and the ceilings and mantelpieces are richly decorated. The cross and mulberry tree of the Mores, with their mottoes, may still be seen in the stained-glass oriel of the great hall, and on the cornices of the drawing-room. Here too is a fine mantelpiece, carved in white chalk, which is said to have been designed by Hans Holbein. Many are the royal visitors who have left memorials of their presence at Loseley. Queen Elizabeth had an especial affection for the place, and was here three times. The cushioned seats of two gilt chairs were worked by her needle, and there is a painted panel bearing the quaint device of a flower-pot with the red and white roses of York and Lancaster, and the fleur-de-lis, with the words _Rosa Electa_ and _Felicior Phoenice_, a pretty conceit which would not fail to find favour in the eyes of the Virgin Queen. The hall contains portraits of James I. and his wife Anne of Denmark, painted by Mytens in honour of a visit which they paid to Loseley in the first year of this monarch's reign; and the ceiling of his Majesty's bedroom is elaborately patterned over with stucco reliefs of Tudor roses and lilies and thistles. A likeness of Anne Boleyn, and several fine portraits of members of the More family, also adorn the walls, and there is a beautiful little picture of the boy-king, Edward VI., wearing an embroidered crimson doublet and jewelled cap and feather, painted by some clever pupil of Holbein in 1547. This portrait was sent in 1890 to the Tudor Exhibition, which also contained many historical documents relating to different personages of this royal line, preserved among the Loseley manuscripts. There are warrants signed by Edward VI., the Lord Protector, by Queen Elizabeth and the Lord of her Council, including Hatton the Lord Chancellor, Cecil, Lord Burghley, Lord Effingham, and Lord Derby. There is one of 1540, signed by Henry VIII., commanding Christopher More, Sheriff of the County of Sussex, to deliver certain goods forfeited to the crown to "Katheryn Howarde, one of our quene's maidens," and another, signed by Elizabeth in the first year of her reign, commanding William More to raise and equip one hundred able men, for the defence of England against foreign invasion. There is also a curious sumptuary proclamation by Queen Elizabeth respecting the dress and ornaments of women, and, what is still more rare and interesting, a warrant from Lady Jane Grey, dated July 19, I. Jane, and signed "Jane the Quene." Among the more private and personal papers is an amusing letter from Robert Horne, Bishop of Winchester, giving Mr. More, of Loseley, advice as to stocking the new pond with the best kind of carp, "thes be of a little heade, broade side and not long; soche as be great headed and longe, made after the fashion of an herring, are not good, neither will ever be." Another from Bishop Day informs Sir William More, in 1596, that he intends to fish the little pond at Frensham; while one to the same gentleman from Alexander Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's, thanks him for his exertions to recover a stolen nag on his behalf. The treasures of Loseley, in fact, are as inexhaustible as its beauty. A pleasant walk through the forest trees and grassy glades of the park leads us back to Compton village and the green lanes through which the Pilgrims' Way now wanders. Skirting the grounds of Monk's Hatch, with their pine-groves and rose-gardens lying under the chalk hanger, the old road passes close to Limnerslease, the Surrey home of George Frederic Watts. To-day thousands of pilgrims from all parts of the world seek out this sylvan retreat where the great master spent his last years, and visit the treasures of art which adorn its galleries, and the fair chapel and cloister that mark the painter's grave. [Illustration: ST. KATHERINE'S, GUILDFORD.] [Illustration: ST. MARTHA'S CHAPEL.] From Compton a path known as "Sandy Lane" leads over the hill past Braboeuf Manor, and the site of the old roadside shrine of Littleton Cross, and comes out on the open down, close to the chapel of St. Katherine. This now ruined shrine, which stands on a steep bank near the road, was rebuilt on the site of a still older one in 1317, by Richard de Wauncey, Rector of St. Nicholas, Guildford, and was much frequented by pilgrims to Canterbury. So valuable were the revenues derived by the parson from their offerings that the original grant made to Richard de Wauncey was disputed, and for some years the Rector of St. Mary stepped into his rights. But in 1329 the Rector of St. Nicholas succeeded in ousting his rival, and the chapel was re-consecrated and attached to the parish of St. Nicholas. An old legend ascribes the building of this shrine and of the chapel on St. Martha's Hill to two giant sisters of primæval days, who raised the walls with their own hands and flung their enormous hammer backwards and forwards from one hill to the other. Unlike its more fortunate sister-shrine, St. Katherine's chapel has long been roofless and dismantled, but it still forms a very picturesque object in the landscape, and the pointed arches of its broken windows frame in lovely views of the green meadows of the winding Wey, with the castle and churches of Guildford at our feet, and the hills and commons stretching far away, to the blue ridge of Hindhead. [Illustration: THE HOSPITAL, GUILDFORD. p. 72] The ancient city of Guildford owes its name and much of its historic renown to its situation on the chief ford of the river Wey, which here makes a break in the ridge of chalk downs running across Surrey. Guildford is mentioned in his will by King Alfred, who left it to his nephew Ethelwold, and became memorable as the spot where another Alfred, the son of Knut and Emma, was treacherously seized and murdered by Earl Godwin, who, standing on the eastern slope of the Hog's Back above the city, bade the young prince look back and see how large a kingdom would be his. For seven centuries, from the days of the Saxon kings to those of the Stuarts, Guildford remained Crown property, and the Norman keep which still towers grandly above the city was long a royal palace. The strength of the castle and importance of the position made it famous in the wars of the barons, and the Waverley annalist records its surrender to Louis VIII. of France, when he marched against King John from Sandwich Haven to Winchester. To-day the picturesqueness of the streets, the gabled roofs and panelled houses, and even more the situation of the town in the heart of this fair district, attract many artists, and make it a favourite centre for tourists. [Illustration: THE HOG'S BACK.] In mediæval times Guildford was a convenient halting-place for pilgrims on their way from the south and west of England to the shrine of St. Thomas. Many of these, however, as the shrewd parson of St. Nicholas saw, when he thought it worth his while to buy the freehold of the site on which St. Katherine's chapel stood, would push on and cross the river by the ferry at the foot of the hill, which still bears the name of the Pilgrims' Ferry. On landing they found themselves in the parish of Shalford, in the meadows where the great fair was held each year in August. When the original charter was granted by King John, the fair took place in the churchyard, but soon the concourse of people became so great that it spread into the fields along the river, and covered as much as one hundred and forty acres of ground. Shalford Fair seems, in fact, to have been the most important one in this part of Surrey, and no doubt owed its existence to the passage of the Canterbury pilgrims. [Illustration: ST. MARTHA'S FROM THE HOG'S BACK.] CHAPTER V SHALFORD TO ALBURY The line of the Pilgrims' Way may be clearly followed from the banks of the Wey up the hill. It goes through Shalford Park, up Ciderhouse Lane, where the ancient Pesthouse or refuge for sick pilgrims and travellers, now called Ciderhouse Cottage, is still standing, and leads through the Chantrey Woods straight to St. Martha's Chapel. The district through which it takes us is one of the wildest and loveliest parts of Surrey. "Very few prettier rides in England," remarks Cobbett, who repeatedly travelled along this track, and the beauty of the views all along its course will more than repay the traveller who makes his way on foot over the hills from Guildford to Dorking. One of the most extensive is to be had from St. Martha's Hill, where the prospect ranges in one direction over South Leith Hill and the South Downs far away to the Weald of Sussex and the well-known clump of Chanctonbury Ring; and on the other over the commons and moors to the crests of Hindhead and the Hog's Back; while looking northward we have a wide view over the Surrey plains and the valley of the Thames, and Windsor Castle and the dome of St. Paul's may be distinguished on clear days. The ancient chapel on the summit, which gives its name to St. Martha's Hill, was originally built in memory of certain Christians who suffered martyrdom on the spot, and was formerly dedicated to all holy martyrs, while the hill itself was known as the Martyrs' Hill, of which, as Grose remarks,[8] "the present name is supposed to be a corruption." In the twelfth century it became peculiarly associated with the Canterbury pilgrims, and a new chancel was built for their use, and consecrated to St. Thomas à Becket in the year 1186. In 1262 this chapel was attached to the Priory of Newark, an Augustinian convent near Ripley, dedicated to St. Thomas of Canterbury by Ruald de Calva in the reign of Richard Coeur de Lion. The Prior already owned most of the hill-side, and the names of Farthing Copse and Halfpenny Lane, through which the pilgrims passed on their way to St. Martha's Chapel, remind us of the tolls which he levied from all who travelled along the road. We have already seen how in the earlier portions of the Way the Prior of Newark disputed the rights of the Abbot of Waverley. Here he reigned supreme. A priest from Newark Priory served St. Martha's Chapel, and is said to have lived at Tyting's Farm, an old gabled house with the remains of a small oratory close to the Pilgrims' Way. In latter days a colony of monks from Newark settled at Chilworth, where the present manor-house contains fragments of monastic building, and the fishponds of the friars may still be seen near the terraced gardens. During the troubled times of the Wars of the Roses the Chapel of St. Martha fell into ruins, and owed its restoration to Bishop William of Waynflete, who in 1463 granted forty days' indulgence to all pilgrims who should visit the shrine and there repeat a Pater Noster, an Ave, and a Credo, or contribute to its repair. After the dissolution of the monasteries both Newark Priory and St. Martha's shrine fell into ruins, and the chapel was only restored of late years. At Chilworth, south of St. Martha's Hill, lies the once fair valley which has been defaced by the powder-mills, first established there three centuries ago by an ancestor of John Evelyn, and now worked by steam. This is the place which Cobbett denounces in his "Rural Rides" with a vigour and eloquence worthy of Mr. Ruskin himself: "This valley, which seems to have been created by a bountiful Providence as one of the choicest retreats of man, which seems formed for a scene of innocence and happiness, has been by ungrateful man so perverted as to make it instrumental in effecting two of the most damnable of purposes, in carrying into execution two of the most damnable inventions that ever sprang from the mind of man under the influence of the devil! namely, the making of gunpowder and of bank-notes! Here, in this tranquil spot, where the nightingales are to be heard earlier and later in the year than in any other part of England; where the first budding of the buds is seen in spring; where no rigour of season can ever be felt; where everything seems formed for precluding the very thought of wickedness; here has the devil fixed on as one of the seats of this grand manufactory; and perverse and ungrateful man not only lends his aid, but lends it cheerfully. To think that the springs which God has commanded to flow from the sides of these happy hills for the comfort and delight of man--to think that these springs should be perverted into means of spreading misery over a whole nation!" One of these "inventions of the devil" has been removed. The paper-mills which made the bank-notes in Cobbett's time are silent now, but the powder-mills are in full activity, and Chilworth, with its coal-stores and railway-crossing, has a blackened and desolate look which not all the natural beauties of its surroundings can dispel. [Illustration: ST. MARTHA'S FROM CHILWORTH.] Once more upon the hills, we can follow the line of yews which are seen at intervals along the ridge from St. Martha's Chapel by Weston Wood and the back of Albury Park, turning a few steps out of our path to visit Newland's Corner, the highest point of Albury Downs, and one of the most beautiful spots in the whole of Surrey. The view is as extensive as that from St. Martha's Hill, and is even more varied and picturesque. Over broken ridges of heathery down and gently swelling slopes, clad with beech and oak woods, we look across to Ewhurst Mill, a conspicuous landmark in all this country, and farther westward to the towers of Charterhouse and the distant heights of Hindhead and Blackdown; while immediately in front, across the wooded valley, rises St. Martha's Hill, crowned by its ancient chapel. Here we can watch the changes of sun and shower over the wide expanse of level country, and see the long range of far hills veiled in the thin blue mists of morning, or turning purple under the gold of the evening sky. Some of the oldest and finest yew trees in all Surrey are close to Newland's Corner--the ancient yew grove there is mentioned in Domesday--and their dark foliage offers a fine contrast to the bright tints of the neighbouring woods and to the snowy masses of blossom which in early summer clothe the gnarled old hawthorn trees that are studded over the hill-side. We can follow the track over the springy turf of the open downs and up glades thick with bracken, till it becomes choked with bushes and brambles, and finally loses itself in the woods of Albury. Here, in the middle of the Duke of Northumberland's park, is the deep glen, surrounded by wooded heights, known as the Silent Pool. A dark tale, which Martin Tupper has made the subject of his "Stephen Langton," belongs to this lonely spot. King John, tradition says, loved a fair woodman's daughter who lived here, and surprised her in the act of bathing in the pool. The frightened girl let loose the branch by which she held, and was drowned in the water; and her brother, a goat-herd, who at the sound of her scream had rushed in after her, shared the same fate. And still, the legend goes, at midnight you may see a black-haired maiden clasping her arms round her brother in his cowhide tunic under the clear rippling surface of the Silent Pool. A little farther on is the old church of Albury--Eldeburie, mentioned in Domesday, and supposed to be the most ancient in Surrey. The low tower, with its narrow two-light windows, probably dates back to very early Norman times, but the rest of the church is considerably later. The south chapel was richly decorated by Mr. Drummond, who bought the place in 1819, and is now used as a mortuary chapel for his family. Albury formerly belonged to the Dukes of Norfolk. The gardens were originally laid out by Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, the accomplished collector of the Arundel marbles, and whose fine portrait by Vandyck was exhibited at Burlington House in the winter of 1891. His friend and neighbour, Mr. Evelyn, helped him with his advice and taste, and designed the grotto under the hill, which still remains. "Such a Pausilippe," remarks the author of "The Sylva," "is nowhere in England besides." But the great ornament of Albury is the famous yew hedge, about ten feet high and a quarter of a mile long, probably the finest of its kind in England. So thick are the upper branches of the yew trees that, as William Cobbett writes, when he visited Albury in Mr. Drummond's time, they kept out both the rain and sun, and alike in summer and winter afford "a most delightful walk." The grand terrace under the hill, "thirty or forty feet wide, and a quarter of a mile long, of the finest green-sward, and as level as a die," particularly delighted him; and the careful way in which the fruit trees were protected from the wind, and the springs along the hill-side collected to water the garden, gratified his practical mind. "Take it altogether," he goes on, "this certainly is the prettiest garden that I ever beheld. There was taste and sound judgment at every step in the laying out of this place. Everywhere utility and convenience is combined with beauty. The terrace is by far the finest thing of the sort that I ever saw, and the whole thing altogether is a great compliment to the taste of the times in which it was formed." The honest old reformer's satisfaction in these gardens was increased by the reflection that the owner was worthy of his estate, seeing that he was famed for his justice and kindness towards the labouring classes--"who, God knows, have very few friends amongst the rich;" and adds, that he for one has no sympathy with "the fools" who want a revolution for the purpose of getting hold of other people's property. "There are others who like pretty gardens as well as I, and if the question were to be decided according to the laws of the strongest, or, as the French call it, _droit du plus fort_, my chance would be but a very poor one." [Illustration: ALBURY OLD CHURCH.] [Illustration: THE MILL, GOMSHALL.] CHAPTER VI SHERE TO REIGATE The Pilgrims' Way ran through Albury Park, passing close to the old church and under the famous yew hedge, and crossed the clear trout stream of the Tillingbourne by a ford still known as "Chantry Ford." Here a noble avenue of lime trees brings us to Shere church, a building as remarkable for the beauty of its situation as for its architectural interest. The lovely Early English doorway, the heavy transitional arches of the nave and the fourteenth-century chancel are still unhurt, and among the fragments of old glass we recognise the flax-breaker, which was the crest of the Brays, one of the oldest families in the county, who are, we rejoice to think, still represented here. Shere itself is one of the most charming villages in all this lovely neighbourhood. For many years now it has been a favourite resort of artistic and literary men, who find endless delight in the quiet beauty of the surrounding country. Subjects for pen and pencil abound in all directions; quaint old timbered houses, picturesque water-mills and barns, deep ferny lanes shaded by overhanging trees, and exquisite glimpses of heather-clad downs meet us at every turn. Fair as the scene is, travellers are seldom seen in these hilly regions; and so complete is the stillness, so pure the mountain air, that we might almost fancy ourselves in the heart of the Highlands, instead of thirty miles from town. Here it was, in the midst of the wild scenery of these Surrey Hills, that a sudden end closed the life of a great prelate of our own days, Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Winchester. A granite cross at Evershed's Rough, just below Lord Farrer's house at Abinger Hall, now marks the spot where his horse stumbled and fell as he rode down the hill towards Holmbury on that summer afternoon. [Illustration: SHERE.] [Illustration: CROSSWAYS FARM, NEAR WOTTON.[9]] About a mile beyond Abinger we reach the home of John Evelyn, and see the grey tower of the church where he is buried. This is Wotton--the town of the woods, as he loved to call it--"sweetly environed" with "venerable woods and delicious streams;" Wotton where, after all his wanderings and all the turmoil of those troublous times, Evelyn found a peaceful haven wherein to end his days. There are the terraces, the "fountains and groves," in which he took delight; there, too, are the pine-woods which he planted, not only for ornament, and because they "create a perpetual spring," but because he held the air to be improved by their "odoriferous and balsamical emissions." Not only these trees, but the oak and ash, and all the different species which he studied so closely and has written about so well, were dear to him as his own children, and he speaks in pathetic language of the violent storm which blew down two thousand of his finest trees in a single night, and almost within sight of his dwelling, and left Wotton, "now no more Woodtonn, stripped and naked, and almost ashamed to own its name. Methinks that I still hear, and I am sure that I feel, the dismal groans of our forests, when that late dreadful hurricane, happening on the 26th of November, 1703, subverted so many thousands of goodly oaks, prostrating the trees, laying them in ghastly postures, like whole regiments fallen in battle by the sword of the conqueror, and crushing all that grew beneath them." Evelyn's descendants have bestowed the same care on the woods and plantations, and in spite of the havoc wrought by wind and tempest, Wotton is still remarkable for the beauty of its forest-trees and masses of flowering rhododendrons. [Illustration: WOTTON.] The red-brick house has been a good deal altered during the present century, but is still full of memorials of Evelyn. His portrait, and that of his wife and father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne, are there, and that of his "angelic friend," Mistress Blagge, the wife of Godolphin, whose beautiful memory he has enshrined in the pages of the little volume that bears her name. The drawings which he made on his foreign travels are there too; and better still, the books in which he took such pride and pleasure, carefully bound, bearing on their backs a device and motto which he chose, a spray of oak, palm, and olive entwined together, with the words, "Omnia explorate; meliora retinete." But the most precious relic of all is the Prayer Book used by Charles I. on the morning of his execution. It was saved from destruction by a devoted loyalist, Isaac Herault, brother of a Walloon minister in London, and afterwards given by him to Evelyn's father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne. The fly-leaf bears a Latin inscription with this note:--This is the Booke which Charles the First, _Martyr beatus_, did use upon the Scaffold, XXX Jan., 1649, being the Day of his glorious martyrdom." The exact course of the Pilgrims' Way here is uncertain. After leaving Shere church it disappears, and we must climb a steep lane past Gomshall station, to find the track again on Hackhurst Downs. The line of yews is to be seen at intervals all along these downs, and as we descend into the valley of the Mole, opposite the heights of Box Hill, we pass four venerable yew trees standing in a field by themselves. One of the group was struck by lightning many years ago, but still stretches its gaunt, withered arms against the sky, like some weather-beaten sign-post marking the way to Canterbury. [Illustration: BOX HILL AND DORKING CHURCH SPIRE.] The town of Dorking lies in the break here made in the chalk hills by the passage of the river Mole; Milton's "sullen Mole that windeth underground," or, as Spenser sings in his "Faërie Queen,"-- "Mole, that like a mousling mole doth make His way still underground, till Thames he overtake." [Illustration: THE WHITE HORSE, DORKING.] The Mole owes its fame to the fact that it is so seldom seen, and several of the swallows or gullies into which it disappears at intervals along its chalky bed are at Burford, close to Dorking. The ponds which supplied the perch for that _water-sousie_ which Dutch merchants came to eat at Dorking, are still to be seen in the fields under Redhill, and near them many an old timbered house and mill-wheel well worth painting. [Illustration: BETWEEN DORKING AND BETCHWORTH LOOKING WEST.] To-day Dorking is a quiet, sleepy little place, but its situation on the Stane Street, the great Roman road from Chichester to London, formerly made it a centre of considerable importance, and the size and excellence of the old-fashioned inns still bear witness to its departed grandeur. Whether, as seems most probable, the old road ran under the wall of Denbies Park, and across the gap now made by the Dorking lime works, or whether, as the Ordnance map indicates, it crossed the breezy heights of Ranmore Common, pilgrims to Canterbury certainly crossed the Mole at Burford Bridge about half a mile from the town. The remains of an ancient shrine known as the Pilgrims' Chapel are still shown in Westhumble Lane. The path itself bears the name of Paternoster Lane, and the fields on either side are called the Pray Meadows. From this point the path runs along under Boxhill, the steep down that rises abruptly on the eastern side of Dorking, and takes its name from the box-trees which here spring up so plentifully in the smooth green turf above the chalk. Boxhill is, we all know, one of the chief attractions which Dorking offers to Londoners. The other is to be found in the fine parks of Deepdene and Betchworth, immediately adjoining the town. The famous gardens and art collections of Deepdene, and the noble lime avenue of Betchworth, which now forms part of the same estate, have often been visited and described. The house at Deepdene is now closed to the public, but the traveller can still stroll under the grand old trees on the river bank, and enjoy a wealthy variety of forest scenery almost unrivalled in England. A picturesque bridge over the Mole leads back to the downs on the opposite side of the valley, where the old track pursues its way along the lower slope of the hills, often wending its course through ploughed fields and tangled thickets and disappearing altogether in places where chalk quarries and lime works have cut away the face of the down. But on the whole the line of yews which mark the road is more regular between Dorking and Reigate than in its earlier course, and at Buckland, a village two miles west of Reigate, a whole procession of these trees descends into the valley. [Illustration: ON "THE WAY" ABOVE BETCHWORTH.] All this part of the road is rich in Roman remains. Of these one of the most interesting was the building discovered in 1875, at Colley Farm, in the parish of Reigate, just south of the Way. Not only were several cinerary urns and fragments of Roman pottery dug up, but the walls of a Roman building were found under those of the present farmhouse. Some twenty years ago a similar building was discovered at Abinger, also in the immediate vicinity of the track, but unfortunately it was completely destroyed in the absence of the owner, Sir Thomas Farrer. Another Roman house came to light in 1813, at Bletchingley, and one chamber, which appeared to be a hypocaust, was excavated at the time. Lastly, considerable Roman remains have been discovered and carefully excavated by Mr. Leveson-Gower in the park at Titsey. Of these the most important are a Roman villa, which was thoroughly excavated in 1864, together with a group of larger buildings, apparently the farm belonging to the ancient house. These are only a few of the principal links in the chain of Roman buildings which lie along the course of this ancient trackway, and which all help to prove its importance as a thoroughfare at the time of the Roman occupation. Another point of interest regarding this part of the Pilgrims' Way is its connection with John Bunyan. When his peculiar opinions and open-air preachings had brought him into trouble with the authorities, he came to hide in these Surrey hills, and earned his living for some time as a travelling tinker. Two houses, one at Horn Hatch, on Shalford Common, the other at Quarry Hill, in Guildford, are still pointed out as having been inhabited by him at this time; and a recent writer[10] has suggested that in all probability the recollections of Pilgrimage days, then fresh in the minds of the people, first gave him the idea of his "Pilgrim's Progress." Certainly more than one incident in the history of the road bears a close resemblance to the tale of Christian's adventures. Thus, for instance, the swampy marshes at Shalford may have been the Slough of Despond, the blue Surrey hills seen from the distance may well have seemed to him the Delectable Mountains, and the name of Doubting Castle actually exists at a point of the road near Box Hill. Lastly, the great fair at Shalford corresponds exactly with Bunyan's description of Vanity Fair, no newly erected business, but "a thing of ancient standing," where "the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted ... only our English nation have taken a dislike thereat." In the days when Bunyan wrote, the annual fair had degenerated into a lawless and noisy assembly, where little trade was done, and much drinking and fighting and rude horseplay went on, as he may have found to his cost. The wares of Rome, in fact, were commodities no longer in fashion, and soon the fair itself came to an end and passed away, like so many other things that had been called into being by the Canterbury Pilgrimage. [Illustration: WINDMILL ON REIGATE COMMON.] CHAPTER VII REIGATE TO CHEVENING Although the town of Reigate lies in the valley, it certainly takes its name from the Pilgrims' Road to Canterbury. In Domesday it is called Cherchfelle, and it is not till the latter part of the twelfth century that the comparatively modern name of Rigegate, the Ridge Road, was applied, first of all to the upper part of the parish, and eventually to the whole town. In those days a chapel dedicated to the memory of the blessed martyr, St. Thomas, stood at the east end of the long street, on a site now occupied by a market-house, built early in the last century, and part of the ancient foundations of this pilgrimage shrine were brought to light when the adjoining prison was enlarged some eighty or ninety years back. Another chapel, dedicated to St. Laurence the Martyr, stood farther down the street; and a third, the Chapel of Holy Cross, belonged to the Augustine Canons of the Priory founded by William of Warrenne, Earl of Surrey, in the thirteenth century. In Saxon days Reigate, or Holm Castle, as it was then termed, from its situation at the head of the valley of Holmesdale, was an important stronghold, and the vigour and persistence with which the incursions of the Danes were repelled by the inhabitants of this district gave rise to the rhyme quoted by Camden-- "The Vale of Holmesdale Never wonne, ne never shall." [Illustration: REIGATE COMMON.] At the Conquest the manor was granted to William of Warrenne, and from that time the castle became the most powerful fortress of the mighty Earls of Surrey. In the days of John it shared the fate of Guildford Castle, and was one of the strongholds which opened its gates to Louis VIII., King of France, on his march from the Kentish Coast to Winchester. The Fitzalans succeeded the Warrennes in the possession of Reigate, and in the reign of Edward VI., both the castle and the Priory were granted to the Howards of Effingham. Queen Elizabeth's Lord High Admiral, the victor of the Invincible Armada, lies buried in the vault under the chancel of Reigate Church. In Stuart times the castle gradually fell into decay, until it was finally destroyed by order of Parliament, during the Civil War, lest it should fall into the King's hands. Now only the mound of the ancient keep remains, and some spacious subterranean chambers which may have served as cellars or dungeons in Norman times. The Priory has also been replaced by a modern house, and is the property of Lady Henry Somerset, the representative of the Earl Somers, to whom William III. granted Reigate in 1697. Reigate is frequently mentioned in Cobbett's "Rural Rides," and it was the sight of the Priory that set him moralising over monasteries and asking himself if, instead of being, as we take it for granted, _bad things_, they were not, after all, better than _poor-rates_, and if the monks and nuns, who _fed the poor_, were not more to be commended than the rich pensioners of the State, who _feed upon the poor_. Close to this ancient foundation is the hilly common known as Reigate Park, a favourite haunt with artists, who find endless subjects in the fern-grown dells and romantic hollows, the clumps of thorn-trees with their gnarled stems and spreading boughs, their wealth of wild flowers and berries. The views over Reigate itself and the Priory grounds on one side, and over the Sussex Weald on the other, are very charming; but a still finer prospect awaits us on the North Downs on the opposite side of the valley, where the Pilgrims' Road goes on its course. The best way is to climb Reigate Hill as far as the suspension bridge, and follow a path cut in the chalk to the summit of the ridge. It leads through a beechwood on to the open downs, where, if the day is clear, one of the finest views in the whole of England--in the whole world, says Cobbett--breaks upon us. The Weald of Surrey and of Sussex, from the borders of Hampshire to the ridge of East Grinstead, and Crowborough Beacon, near Tunbridge Wells, lies spread out at our feet. Eastward, the eye ranges over the Weald of Kent and the heights above Sevenoaks; westward the purple ridge of Leith Hill and the familiar crest of Hindhead meet us; and far away to the south are the Brighton downs and Chanctonbury Ring. [Illustration: LOOKING EAST FROM GATTON PARK.] The line of yew trees appears again here, and after keeping along the top of the ridge for about a mile, the Pilgrims' Way enters Gatton Park, and passing through the woods near Lord Oxenbridge's house, joins the avenue that leads to Merstham. Gatton itself, which, like Reigate, takes its name from the Pilgrims' Road--Saxon, Gatetun, the town of the road--was chiefly famous for the electoral privileges which it so long enjoyed. From the time of Henry VI. until the Reform Bill of 1832, this very small borough returned two members to Parliament. In the reign of Henry VIII. Sir Roger Copley is described as the burgess and sole inhabitant of the borough and town of Gatton, and for many years the constituency consisted of one person, the lord of the manor. At the beginning of the present century there were only eight houses in the whole parish, a fact which naturally roused the ire of William Cobbett. "Before you descend the hill to go into Reigate," he writes in one of his Rural Rides, "you pass Gatton, which is a very rascally spot of earth." And when rainy weather detained him a whole day at Reigate, he moralises in this vein--"_In_ one rotten borough, one the most rotten too, and with another still more rotten _up upon the hill_, in Reigate and close by Gatton, how can I help reflecting, how can my mind be otherwise than filled with reflections on the marvellous deeds of the collective wisdom of the nation?" These privileges doubled the value of the property, and when Lord Monson bought Gatton Park in 1830, he paid a hundred thousand pounds for the place; but the days of close boroughs were already numbered, and less than two years afterwards the Reform Bill deprived Gatton of both its members. The little town hall of Gatton, where the important ceremony of electing two representatives to serve in Parliament was performed, is still standing, an interesting relic of bygone days, on a mound in the park, almost hidden by large chestnut trees. [Illustration: GATTON TOWN HALL.] Gatton House is chiefly remarkable for the marble hall built by the same Lord Monson in imitation of the Orsini Chapel at Rome, and adorned with rich marbles which he had brought from Italy. The collection of pictures, formed by the same nobleman, contains several good Dutch and Italian pictures, including the "Vierge au bas-relief," a graceful Holy Family, which takes its name from a small carved tablet in the background. It was long held to be an early work by the great Leonardo da Vinci, and was purchased by Lord Monson of Mr. Woodburn for £4,000, but is now generally attributed to his pupil, Cesare da Sesto. Like so many of the churches we have already mentioned, like Seale and Wanborough, and the chapels of St. Katherine and St. Martha, like the old church at Titsey and the present one at Chevening, Gatton was originally a Pilgrims' church. Now it has little that is old to show, for it was restored by Lord Monson in 1831, and adorned with a variety of treasures from all parts of the Continent. The stained glass comes from the monastery of Aerschot, near Louvain, the altar-rails from Tongres, the finely carved choir-stalls and canopies from Ghent, and the altar and pulpit from Nuremberg. Like most of the mediæval wood-work and glass which has come to England from that "Quaint old town of toil and traffic, Quaint old town of art and song," these last are said to have been designed by the great master of the Franconian city, Albert Dürer. [Illustration: MERSTHAM CHURCH.] The Pilgrims' Way, as has been already said, runs through Gatton Park, and brings us out close to Merstham, and through lanes shaded with fine oaks and beeches we reach the pretty little village, with its old timbered cottages and still older church buried in the woods. Local writers of the last century frequently allude to the Pilgrims' Road as passing through this parish, although its exact course is not easy to trace. It seems, however, certain that the track passed near Lord Hylton's house, and south of the church, which stands close by. In mediæval times, Merstham formed part of the vast estates held by the monks of Christ Church, Canterbury, and was bestowed upon them by Athelstan, a son of Ethelred the Unready, in the tenth century. There was a church here at the time of the Norman Conquest, but the only portion of the present building dating from that period is a fine old square Norman font which, like several others in the neighbourhood, is of Sussex marble. Of later date, there is much that is extremely interesting. The tower and the west door are Early English, and the chancel arch is adorned with curious acanthus-leaf mouldings, while the porch and chancel are Late Perpendicular. After passing Merstham Church the track is lost in a medley of roads and railway cuttings, but soon the line of yews appears again, climbing the crest of the hill, and can be followed for some distance along White Hill, or Quarry Hangers, as these downs are commonly called. The next object of interest which it passes is the War Camp, or Cardinal's Cap, as it is sometimes termed, an old British earthwork on the face of the chalk escarpment. Then the path turns into a wood, and we leave it to descend on Godstone. This is a fascinating spot for artists. The low irregular houses are grouped round a spacious green and goose-pond, shaded by fine horse-chestnuts, and there is a charming inn, the White Hart or Clayton Arms, with gabled front and large bay-windows of the good old-fashioned type. "A beautiful village," wrote Cobbett, ninety years ago, "chiefly of one street, with a fine large green before it, and with a pond in the green;" and he goes on to speak of the neatness of the gardens and of the double violets, "as large as small pinks," which grew in the garden of this same inn, and of which the landlady was good enough to give some roots. Happily for his peace of mind, he adds, "The vile rotten borough of Bletchingley, which lies under the downs close by, is out of sight." [Illustration: THE WHITE HART, GODSTONE.] [Illustration: OLD HOUSE IN OXTED.] From Godstone it is a pleasant walk over the open commons, along the top of the ridge, looking over the Weald of Sussex and across the valleys of Sevenoaks and Tunbridge to the Kentish hills. Once more we track the line of the Pilgrims' Way as it emerges from the woods above the Godstone quarries and, passing under Winder's Hill and by Marden Park, reaches a wood called Palmers Wood. The name is significant, more especially since there is no record of any owner who bore that name. Here its course is very clearly defined, and when, in the autumn of 1890, pipes for carrying water out of the hill were laid down, a section of the old paved road was cut across. A little farther on, at Limpsfield Lodge Farm, just on the edge of Titsey park, it formed the farm road till 1875. At this point the path was ten feet wide, and the original hedges remained. Before entering the park of Titsey, the way runs through part of Oxted parish, where a spring still bears the name of St. Thomas's Well, and then reaches Titsey Place. [Illustration: OXTED CHURCH.] Few places in this part of Surrey are more attractive than this old home of the Greshams. The purity of the air, praised by Aubrey long ago for its sweet, delicate, and wholesome virtues, the health-giving breezes of the surrounding downs and commons, the natural loveliness of the place, and the taste with which the park and gardens have been laid out, all help to make Titsey a most delightful spot. Its beautiful woods stretch along the grassy slopes of Botley Hill, and the clump of trees on the heights known as Cold-harbour Green is 881 feet above the sea, and marks the loftiest point in the whole range of the North Downs. Wherever the eye rests, one ridge of wooded hill after the other seems to rise and melt away into the soft blue haze. Nor is there any lack of other attractions to invite the attention of scholar and antiquary. The place is full of historic associations. A whole wealth of antiquities, coins, urns, and pottery, have been dug up in the park, and some remains of Roman buildings were discovered there a few years ago, close to the Pilgrims' Way. After the conquest Titsey was given to the great Earls of Clare, who owned the property at the time of the Domesday Survey. In the fourteenth century it belonged to the Uvedale family, and two hundred years later was sold to Sir John Gresham, an uncle of Sir Thomas Gresham, the illustrious merchant of Queen Elizabeth's court, and the founder of the Royal Exchange. A fine portrait of Sir Thomas himself, by Antonio More, now hangs in the library of Titsey Place. Unfortunately the Greshams suffered for their loyalty to Charles I., and after the death of the second Sir Marmaduke Gresham in 1742, a large part of the property was sold. His son, Sir John, succeeded in partly retrieving the fortunes of the family, and rebuilt and enlarged the old manor-house, which had been allowed to fall into a ruinous state. But the Tudor arches of the east wing still remain, as well as much of the fine oak panelling which adorned its walls; and the crest of the Greshams, a grasshopper, may still be seen in the hall chimney-piece. The present owner, Mr. Leveson-Gower, is a lineal descendant of the last baronet, and inherited Titsey from his great-grandmother Katherine, the heiress of the Greshams. The fourteenth-century church was unluckily pulled down a hundred years ago, because Sir John Gresham thought it stood too near his own house, but an old yew in the garden and some tombstones of early Norman date still mark its site. The course of the Pilgrims' Way through the Park is clearly marked by a double row of fine ash trees, and the flint stones with which the road itself is paved may still be seen under the turf. Further along the road is a very old farmhouse, which was formerly a hostelry, and still bears the name of the Pilgrims' Lodge. From Titsey the Way runs along the side of the hills, under Tatsfield Church, which stands on the summit of the ridge, and about a mile above the pretty little towns of Westerham and Brasted. Here the boundary of the counties is crossed, and the traveller enters Kent. Soon we reach the gates of Chevening Park, where, as at Titsey, the Pilgrims' Way formerly passed very near the house, until it was closed by Act of Parliament in 1780. [Illustration: BRASTED.] The manor of Chevening, originally the property of the See of Canterbury, was held in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries by the family of Chevening, from whence it passed to the Lennards, who became Barons Dacre and Earls of Sussex. In the last century it was bought by General Stanhope, the distinguished soldier and statesman, who, after reducing the island of Minorca, served King George I. successively as Secretary of State and First Lord of the Treasury. Inigo Jones built the house for Richard Lennard, Lord Dacre, early in the seventeenth century, but since then it has undergone such extensive alterations that little of the original structure remains, and the chief interest lies in a valuable collection of historical portraits, including those of the Chesterfields, Stanhopes, and the great Lord Chatham. The last-named statesman, whose daughter Hester married Charles, Lord Stanhope, in 1774, was a frequent visitor at Chevening, and is said to have planned the beautiful drive which leads through the woods north of the house to the top of the downs. The little village of Chevening lies on the other side of the park, just outside Lord Stanhope's gates and close to the old church of St. Botolph, which was one of the shrines frequented by the pilgrims on their way to Canterbury. There are some good Early English arches in the nave and chancel, and a western tower of Perpendicular date. The south chapel contains many imposing sepulchral monuments to the different lords of the manor. Amongst them are those of John Lennard, who was sheriff of the county and held several offices under the crown in the reigns of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, and of his son Sampson, who with his wife Margaret, Lady Dacre in her own right, reposes under a sumptuous canopy of alabaster surrounded by kneeling effigies of their children. There is also a fine black marble monument to the memory of James, Earl of Stanhope, the prime minister of George I., who was buried here with great pomp in 1721. He was actually in office at the time of his death, and was taken ill in the House of Lords, and breathed his last the next day. But the most beautiful tomb here is Chantrey's effigy of Lady Frederica Stanhope sleeping with her babe in her arms, and an expression of deep content and peace upon her quiet face. [Illustration: CHEVENING CHURCH.] "Storms may rush in, and crimes and woes Deform the quiet bower; They may not mar the deep repose Of that immortal flower." [Illustration: OTFORD CHURCH.] CHAPTER VIII OTFORD TO WROTHAM We have followed the Pilgrims' Way over Hampshire Downs and Surrey hills and commons, through the woods which Evelyn planted, and along the ridge where Cobbett rode. We have seen the track become overgrown with tangled shrubs and underwood, and disappear altogether in places. We have lost the road at one point in the fields, to find it again half a mile further; we have noted the regular lines of yews climbing up the hill-side, and the lonely survivors which are left standing bare and desolate in the middle of the corn-fields. The part of the ancient road on which we are now entering differs in several important respects from its earlier course. From the time the Pilgrims' Way enters Kent its track is clearly marked. Already we have followed its line through Titsey and along the downs as far as Chevening, where the path, now closed, may be traced through Lord Stanhope's Park. A group of magnificent old yew trees arrests our attention just beyond Chevening, before the road from Sevenoaks to Bromley is crossed. Then the Way descends into the valley of the Darent, an excellent trout-stream which flows north through this chalk district to join the Thames near Dartford, and after crossing the ford over that river, regains the hills at Otford. From this place it runs along under the hill in one unbroken line all the way to Eastwell Park, between Ashford and Canterbury. It is a good bridle-way, somewhat grass-grown in places, in others enclosed by hedges, and still used by farmers for their carts. Before toll-bars were abolished there was a good deal of traffic along this part of the Pilgrims' Road, which, running as it does parallel with the turnpike road along the valley to Ashford, was much used as a means of evading the payment of toll. This cause is now removed, and excepting for an occasional hunting-man who makes use of the soft track along the hill-side, or a camp of gipsies sitting round their fire, waggoners and ploughmen are the only wayfarers to be met with along the Pilgrims' Road. But the old name still clings to the track, and as long as the squires of Kent have any respect for the traditions of the past, any particle of historic sense remaining, they will not allow the Pilgrims' Way to be wiped out. In actual beauty of scenery this portion of the Way may not equal the former part. We miss the wild loveliness of Surrey commons, the rare picturesqueness of the rolling downs round Guildford and Dorking, but this Kentish land has a charm of its own, which grows upon you the longer you know it. These steep slopes and wooded hollows, these grand old church towers and quaint village streets, these homesteads with their vast barns of massive timber and tall chimney-stacks overshadowed with oaks and beeches, cannot fail to delight the eyes of all who find pleasure in rural scenes. And all along our way we have that noble prospect over the wide plains of the dim blue Weald, which is seldom absent from our eyes, as we follow this narrow track up and down the rugged hill-side. In historic interest and precious memorials of the past, this part of the Pilgrims' Way, we need hardly say, is surpassingly rich. Endless are the great names and stirring events which these scenes recall: battlefields where memorable fights were fought in days long ago, churches and lands that were granted to the Archbishops or Abbots of Canterbury before the Conquest, manor-houses which our kings and queens have honoured with their presence in the days of yore. All these things, and many more of equal interest and renown, will the traveller find as he follows the Pilgrims' Way along the chalk hills which form the backbone of Kent. The first resting-place which the pilgrims would find on this part of their route would be the Archbishop's manor-house at Otford. There were no less than fifteen of these episcopal residences in different parts of Kent, Surrey, and Sussex, and of these, three lay along the Kentish portion of the Pilgrims' Way. The palace at Otford possessed an especial sanctity in the eyes of wayfarers journeying to the shrine of St. Thomas, as having been a favourite residence of the martyred Archbishop himself. The manor was originally granted to the See of Canterbury in 791, by Offa, king of Mercia, who defeated Aldric, king of Kent, at Otford in 773, and conquered almost the whole province. More than two hundred years later, Otford was the scene of another battle, in which Edmund Ironside defeated the Danes under Knut, and to this day bones are dug up in the meadow which bears the name of Danefield. From the tenth century the Archbishops had a house here, and Otford is described in the Domesday Survey as _Terra Archiepi Cantuariensis_. So it remained until Cranmer surrendered the palace, with many other of his possessions, to Henry VIII. The mediæval Archbishops seem to have had an especial affection for Otford, and spent much of their time at this pleasant country seat. Archbishop Winchelsea entertained Edward I. in 1300, and was living here at the time of his death thirteen years later, when his remains were borne by the King's command to Canterbury, and buried there with great state. Simon Islip enclosed the park, and Archbishop Deane repaired the walls; but the whole was rebuilt on a grander scale by Warham, who spent upwards of thirty thousand pounds upon the house, and received Henry VIII. here several times in the first years of his reign. After Otford had become Crown property, the Archbishop's manor-house passed into the hands of the Sydneys and Smyths, who dismantled the castle, as it was then commonly called, and allowed the walls to fall into ruin. Two massive octagonal towers of three stories, with double square-headed windows, and a fragment of a cloister, now used as farm stables, are the only portions remaining. These evidently formed part of the outer court, and are good specimens of fifteenth-century brickwork. The tower was considerably higher a hundred years ago, and Hasted describes the ruins as covering nearly an acre of ground. The stones of the structure were largely used in the neighbouring buildings, and the Bull Inn contains a good deal of fine oak wainscoting, and several handsome carved mantelpieces, which originally belonged to the castle. Two heads in profile, carved in oak over one of the fireplaces, are said to represent Henry VIII. and Katherine of Aragon. A bath, or chamber, paved and lined with stone, about thirty feet long, and ten or twelve feet deep, not far from the ruins, still bears the name of Becket's Well. Tradition ascribes the birth of the spring which supplies it to St. Thomas, who, finding no water at Otford, struck the hill-side with his staff, and at once brought forth a clear stream, which since then has never been known to fail. Another legend tells how the Saint one day, being "busie at his prayers in the garden at Otford, was much disturbed by the sweete note and melodie of a nightingale that sang in a bush beside him, and in the might of his holinesse commanded all birds of this kind to be henceforth silent," after which the nightingale was never heard at Otford. But with the decay of the palace and the departure of the Archbishops, the spell was broken; and the Protestant Lambarde, when he was at Otford, takes pleasure in recording how many nightingales he heard singing thereabouts. [Illustration: THE PORCH, KEMSING CHURCH.] From Otford the Pilgrims' Way runs along the edge of the hills about half a mile above the villages of Kemsing and Wrotham, and passes close to St. Clere, a mansion built by Inigo Jones, where Mrs. Boscawen, the witty correspondent of Mrs. Delany and the friend of Johnson and Boswell, was born. Kemsing still retains its old church and well, both consecrated to the memory of the Saxon Princess, St. Edith, whose image in the churchyard was, during centuries, the object of the peasants' devout veneration. "Some seelie bodie," writes Lambarde, who visited these shrines in Queen Elizabeth's reign, and delights in pouring contempt on the old traditions of these country shrines, "brought a peche or two, or a bushelle of corne, to the churche after praiers made, offered it to the image of the saint. Of this offering the priest used to toll the greatest portion, and then to take one handful or little more of the residue (for you must consider he woulde bee sure to gaine by the bargaine), the which, after aspersion of holy water and the mumbling of a fewe words of conjuration, he first dedicated to the image of Saint Edith, and then delivered it backe to the partie that brought it; who departed with full persuasion that if he mingled that hallowed handfull with his seede corne, it would preserve from harme and prosper in growthe the whole heape that he should sowe, were it never so great a stacke." [Illustration: WROTHAM CHURCH.] Wrotham was the site of another of the Archbishops' manor-houses, and rivalled Otford in antiquity, having been granted to the See of Canterbury by Athelstan in 964. Wrotham was never as favourite a residence with the Archbishops as Otford, but they stopped here frequently on their progresses through Kent, until, in the fourteenth century, Simon Islip pulled down the house to supply materials for the building of his new palace at Maidstone. A terrace and some scanty remains of the offices are the only fragments now to be seen at Wrotham, but the charming situation of the village in the midst of luxuriant woods, and the beauty of the view over the Weald from Wrotham Hill, attract many visitors. The church has several features of architectural interest, including a handsome rood-screen of the fourteenth century, and a watching-chamber over the chancel, as well as a curious archway under the tower, which was probably used as a passage for processions from the Palace. It contains many tombs and brasses, chiefly of the Peckham family, who held the manor of Yaldham in this parish for upwards of five hundred years. Below the church is Wrotham Place, a fine old Tudor house with a corridor and rooms of the fifteenth century, and a charming garden front bearing the date 1560. Fairlawn, the ancestral home of the Vanes, also lies in a corner of Wrotham parish, and a terrace, bordered with close-clipped yew hedges, and surrounded by sunny lawns, where peacocks spread their tails over the grass, is still pointed out as a favourite walk of that stout old regicide, Sir Harry Vane. Ightham, with its famous Mote, so perfect a picture of an old English house, is close by, within a walk of Wrotham station, but lies, unluckily, on the opposite side from the line of hills along which our path takes us. [Illustration: THE MOTE, IGHTHAM] [Illustration: WROTHAM, LOOKING SOUTH.] CHAPTER IX WROTHAM TO HOLLINGBOURNE The Pilgrims' Way continues its course over Wrotham Hill and along the side of the chalk downs. This part of the track is a good bridle road, with low grass banks or else hedges on either side, and commands fine views over the rich Kentish plains, the broad valley of the Medway, and the hills on the opposite shore. The river itself glitters in the sun, but as we draw nearer the beauty of the prospect is sorely marred by the ugly chimneys and dense smoke of the Snodland limestone works. At one point on the downs, close to the Vigo Inn, a few hundred yards above our road, there is a very extensive view over the valley of the Thames, ranging from Shooters' Hill to Gravesend, and far away out to sea. In the daytime the masts of the shipping in the river are clearly seen. At night the Nore lights twinkle like stars in the distance. The height of these downs is close on 700 feet, that of Knockholt is 783 feet. On the other side of the Medway the chalk range is considerably lower, and the highest points are above Detling, 657 feet, Hollingbourne, 606 feet, and Charing, 640 feet. [Illustration: THE BULL, WROTHAM.] The Way now runs past Pilgrims' house, formerly the Kentish Drovers' Inn, above the old church and village of Trottescliffe (Trosley) and the megalithic stones known as Coldrum circle, one of the best preserved cromlechs along the road. Further on a short lane leads south to Birling Place, the ancient home of the Nevills, who have owned the estate since the middle of the fifteenth century, while in a group of old farm buildings at Paddlesworth (formerly Paulsford) we find the remains of a Norman Pilgrims' Chapel, with a fine Early English arch. The track now crosses a large field and enters Snodland, an old town containing many Roman remains, and an interesting church, but sadly disfigured by cement works and paper factories. [Illustration: TROTTESCLIFFE.] Here the pilgrims left the hills to descend into the valley below. Twice before, at Shalford and Dorking, they had crossed the rivers which make their way through the chalk range; now they had reached the third great break in the downs, and the broad stream of the Medway lay at their feet. They might, if they pleased, go on to Rochester, three miles higher up, and join the road taken by the London pilgrims along the Watling Street to Canterbury--the route of Chaucer's pilgrimage. But most of them, it appears, preferred to follow the hills to which they had clung so long. [Illustration: FORD PLACE, NEAR WROTHAM.] The exact point where they crossed the river has been often disputed. According to the old maps it was by the ford at Cuxton, where the river was shallow enough to allow of their passage. From Bunker's Farm, immediately above Birling, a road diverges northwards to Cuxton and Rochester, and was certainly used by many of the pilgrims. At Upper Halling, on this track, we may still see the lancet windows of a pilgrims' shrine formerly dedicated to St. Laurence, which have been built into some cottages known as Chapel houses. The Bishops of Rochester, who held this manor from Egbert's days, had "a right fair house" at Lower Halling, on the banks of the Medway, with a vineyard which produced grapes for King Henry III.'s table. This pleasant manor-house on the river was the favourite summer residence of Bishop Hamo de Hethe, who built a new hall and chapel in the reign of Edward I., and placed his own statue on a gateway which was still standing in the eighteenth century. Another interesting house, Whorne Place, lies a little higher up, on the banks of the Medway, where the grass-grown track leading from Bunker's Farm joins the main road to Cuxton and Rochester. This fine brick mansion formerly belonged to the Levesons, and the quarterings of Sir John Leveson and his two wives are to be seen above the central porch. [Illustration: THE FRIARY, AYLESFORD.] In the thirteenth century a great number of pilgrims seem to have stopped at Maidstone, where, in 1261, Archbishop Boniface built a hospital for their reception on the banks of the Medway. The funds which supported this hospital, the Newark--New-work, Novi operis, as it was called--were diverted by Archbishop Courtenay, a hundred and forty years later, to the maintenance of his new college of All Saints, on the opposite side of the river, but a remnant of the older foundation is still preserved in the beautiful Early English Chancel of St. Peter's Church, which was originally attached to Boniface's hospital, and is still known as the Pilgrims' Chapel. By the time that Archbishop Courtenay founded his college, the stream of pilgrims had greatly diminished, and the hostel which had been intended for their resting-place was rapidly sinking into a common almshouse. Maidstone, too, no doubt, lay considerably out of the pilgrims' course, and the great majority naturally preferred to cross the Medway by the ferry at Snodland. Others again might choose Aylesford, which lay a mile or two below. At this ancient town, the Eglesford of the Saxon Chronicle, there was a stone bridge across the river, and a Carmelite Priory founded in 1240 by Richard de Grey, on his return from the Crusades, where the pilgrims would be sure to find shelter. But even if they did not cross the Medway at this place, where the old church stands so picturesquely on its high bank overhanging river and red roofs, the pilgrims certainly passed through the parish of Aylesford. For on the opposite banks of the ferry at Snodland the familiar line of yew trees appears again, ascending the hill by Burham church, and runs through the upper part of Aylesford parish, close to the famous dolmen of Kits Coty House. This most interesting sepulchral monument, Kêd-coit--Celtic for the Tomb in the Wood--consists of three upright blocks of sandstone about eight feet high and eight feet broad, with a covering stone of eleven feet which forms the roof, and is one of a group of similar remains which lie scattered over the hill-side and are locally known as the Countless Stones. We have here, in fact, a great cemetery of the Druids which once extended for many miles on both sides of the river. Deep pits dug out in the chalk, filled with flints and covered with slabs of stone, have been discovered on Aylesford Common, and a whole avenue of stones formerly connected this burial place with the cromlechs at Addington, six miles off. Here, if the old legend be true, was fought the great battle which decided the fate of Britain, and gave England into the hands of the English. For at this place, the old chroniclers say, about the year 455, the Saxon invaders stopped on their march to the Castle of Rochester, and turning southwards met the Britons in that deadly fray, when both Kentigern and Horsa were left dead on the field of battle. Ancient military entrenchments are still visible on the hill-side near Kits Coty House, and a boulder on the top was long pointed out as the stone on which Hengist was proclaimed the first king of Kent. About a mile from this memorable spot, in the plains at the foot of the downs, was a shrine which no pilgrim of mediæval days would leave unvisited, the Cistercian Abbey of Boxley, then generally known as the Abbatia S. Crucis de Gracias, the Abbey of the Holy Rood of Grace. [Illustration: AYLESFORD BRIDGE] [Illustration: KITS COTY HOUSE.] Not only was Boxley, next to Waverley Abbey, the oldest Cistercian house founded on this side of the Channel, the _filia propria_ of the great house of Clairvaux, but the convent church rejoiced in the possession of two of the most celebrated wonder-working relics in all England. There was the image of St. Rumbold, that infant child of a Saxon prince who proclaimed himself a Christian the moment of his birth, and after three days spent in edifying his pagan hearers, departed this life. This image could only be lifted by the pure and good, and having a hidden spring, which could be worked by the hands or feet of the monks, was chiefly influenced by the amount of the coin that was paid into their hands. And there was that still greater marvel, the miraculous Rood, or winking image, a wooden crucifix which rolled its eyes and moved its lips in response to the devotees who crowded from all parts of England to see the wondrous sight. The clever mechanism of this image, said to have been invented by an English prisoner during his captivity in France, was exposed by Henry VIII.'s commissioners in 1538, who discovered "certayn ingyns of old wyer with olde roten stykkes in the back of the same," and showed them to the people of Maidstone on market-day, after which the Rood of Grace was taken to London and solemnly broken in pieces at Paul's Cross. The Abbey of Boxley owned vast lands, and the Abbots were frequently summoned to Parliament, and lived in great state. Among the royal guests whom they entertained was King Edward II., whose visit was made memorable by the letter which he addressed from Boxley Abbey to the Aldermen of the City of London, granting them the right of electing a Lord Mayor. At one time their extravagance brought them to the verge of ruin, as we learn from a letter which Archbishop Warham addressed to Cardinal Wolsey; but at the dissolution the Commissioners could find no cause of complaint against the monks, excepting the profusion of flowers in the convent garden, which made them comment on the waste of turning "the rents of the monastery into gillyflowers and roses." The foundations of the church where the Cistercians showed off their "sotelties" may still be traced in the gardens of the house built by Sir Thomas Wyatt on the site of the abbey. Here some precious fragments of the ruins are still preserved. The chapel of St. Andrew, which stood near the great gateway, has been turned into cottages, and the noble "guesten-house," where strangers were lodged, is now a barn. The old wall remains to show the once vast extent of the Abbey precincts. Now these grey stones are mantled with thick bushes of ivy, and a fine clump of elm trees overshadows the red-tiled roof of the ancient guest-house in the meadows, but we look in vain for poor Abbot John's gillyflowers and roses. [Illustration: LOOKING WEST FROM ABOVE BOXLEY ABBEY.] Between Boxley Abbey and Maidstone stretches the wide common of Penenden Heath, famous from time immemorial as the place where all great county meetings were held. Here the Saxons held their "gemotes," and here in 1076, was that memorable assembly before which Lanfranc pleaded the cause of the Church of Canterbury against Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, Earl of Kent, the Conqueror's half-brother, who had defrauded Christ Church of her rights, and laid violent hands on many of her manors and lands. Not only were the Kentish nobles and bishops summoned to try the cause, but barons and distinguished ecclesiastics, and many men "of great and good account," from all parts of England and Normandy, were present that day. Godfrey, Bishop of Coutances, represented the King, and Agelric, the aged Bishop of Chester, "an ancient man well versed in the laws and customs of the realm," was brought there in a chariot by the King's express command. Three days the trial lasted, during which Lanfranc pleaded his cause so well against the rapacious Norman that the see of Canterbury recovered its former possessions, and saw its liberties firmly established. The village and church of Boxley (Bose-leu in Domesday), so called from the box trees that grow freely along the downs, as at Box Hill, are about a mile and a half beyond the Abbey, and lie on the sloping ground at the foot of the hills, close to the Pilgrims' Way. Old houses and timbered barns, with lofty gables and irregular roofs, are grouped round the church, which is itself as picturesque an object as any, with its massive towers and curious old red-tiled Galilee porch. Next we reach Detling, a small village, prettily situated on the slope of the hills, with a church containing a rare specimen of mediæval wood-work in the shape of a carved oak reading-desk, enriched with pierced tracery of the Decorated period. We pass Thurnham, with the foundations of its Saxon castle high up on the downs, and then enter Hollingbourne. As Boxley reminds us of the box trees on the hill-side, and Thurnham of the thorn trees in the wood, so Hollingbourne owes its name to the hollies on the burn or stream which runs through the parish. William Cobbett, whose memory has followed us all the way from the Itchen valley, describes how he rode over Hollingbourne Hill on his return from Dover to the Wen, and from the summit of that down, one of the highest in this neighbourhood, looked down over the fair Kentish land, which in its richness and beauty seemed to him another Garden of Eden. [Illustration: COTTAGE AT BOARLEY, NEAR BOXLEY] CHAPTER X HOLLINGBOURNE TO LENHAM The village of Hollingbourne lies at the foot of the hill, and an old inn at the corner of the Pilgrims' Road, now called the King's Head, was formerly known by the name of the Pilgrims' Rest. The history of Hollingbourne is full of interest. The manor was granted to the church at Canterbury, "for the support of the monks," by young Athelstan, the son of Æthelred II., in the year 980, and was retained by the monastery when Lanfranc divided the lands belonging to Christ Church between the priory and the see. It is described in Domesday as _Terra Monachorum Archiepi_, the land of the monk and the Archbishop; in later records as _Manorium Monachorum et de cibo eorum_, a manor of the monks and for their food. The Priors of Christ Church held their courts here, and the convent records tell us that Prior William Sellyng greatly improved the Priory rooms at Hollingbourne. Their residence probably occupied the site of the present manor-house. This handsome red-brick building, rich in gables and mullions, in oak panelling and secret hiding-places, was built in Queen Elizabeth's reign by the great Kentish family of the Culpepers, who at that time owned most of the parish. More than one fragment of the earlier house, encased in the Elizabethan building, has been brought to light, and a pointed stone archway of the thirteenth century, and an old fireplace with herring-bone brickwork, have lately been discovered. Many are the interesting traditions which belong to this delightful old manor-house. The yews in the garden are said to have been planted by Queen Elizabeth on one of her royal progresses through Kent, when she stayed at Leeds Castle, and was the guest of Sir Henry Wotton at Boughton Malherbe. According to another very old local tradition, Katherine Howard, whose mother was a Culpeper, spent some years here as a girl, and the ghost of that unhappy queen is said to haunt one of the upper chambers of the house. Another room, called the Needle-Room, was occupied during the Commonwealth by the daughters of that faithful loyalist, John Lord Culpeper, Frances, Judith, and Philippa, who employed the weary years of their father's exile in embroidering a gorgeous altar-cloth and hangings, which they presented to the parish church on the happy day when the king came back to enjoy his own again. The tapestries, worked by the same deft fingers, which once adorned the chambers of the manor-house, are gone, and the hangings of the reading-desk in the church have been cut up into a frontal, but the altar-cloth remains absolutely intact, and is one of the finest pieces of embroidery of the kind in England. Both design and colouring are of the highest beauty. On a ground of violet velvet, bordered with a frieze of cherub heads, we see the twelve mystic fruits of the Tree of Life--the grape, orange, cherry, apple, plum, pear, mulberry, acorn, peach, medlar, quince, and pomegranate. The richest hues of rose and green are delicately blended together, and their effect is heightened by the gold thread in which the shading is worked. The lapse of two centuries and a half has not dimmed the brightness of their colours, which are as fresh as if the work had been finished yesterday. A needle which had been left in a corner of the altar-cloth all those long years ago was still to be seen sticking in the velvet early in the last century, but has now disappeared. [Illustration: HOLLINGBOURNE HOUSE.] This goodly manor-house was only one of several seats belonging to the Culpepers in this neighbourhood. They had a mansion at Greenway Court, which was burnt down in the last century, and another of imposing dimensions where Grove Court now stands. In the seventeenth century the Lords Culpeper also owned Leeds Castle, that noble moated house, a mile to the south, which was once a royal park, and is still one of the finest places in Kent. But the second Lord Culpeper died without a male heir in 1688, and this famous house passed by marriage into the Fairfax family. The Hollingbourne branch of the Culpepers died out in the course of the last century, and at the present time no member of this illustrious family is known to exist in England, although persons bearing this ancient name are still to be found in America. The church at Hollingbourne contains a whole series of Culpeper monuments. The most remarkable is the white marble altar-tomb, which bears the recumbent effigy of Elizabeth Lady Culpeper, who died in 1638, and is described in the inscription on her monument as _Optima Foemina, Optima Conjux, et Optima Mater_. This lady was the heiress of the Cheney family, whose arms, the ox's hide and horns, appear on the shield at the foot of the tomb, and are repeated in the stained glass of the chapel window. Tradition says that Sir John Cheney had his helmet struck off, when he fought by the victor's side on Bosworth Field, and fixed a bull's horns on his head in its place. Afterwards Henry VII. gave him this crest, when he made him a Baron and a Knight of the Garter, in reward for his valour on that hard-fought field. A monument on the north wall of the chancel records the memory of John Lord Culpeper, who was successively Chancellor of the Exchequer, Master of the Rolls, and Privy Councillor to Charles I. and Charles II. "For equal fidelity to the king and kingdome," says the epitaph on his tomb, "he was most exemplary." He followed the last-named king into exile and remained there until the Restoration, when "with him he returned tryumphant into England on the 29th of May, 1660," only to die six weeks afterwards, "to the irreparable losse of his family." Another descendant of the Culpepers is buried under the altar in this church, Dame Grace Gethin, a great grand-daughter of Sir Thomas Culpeper, and wife of Sir Richard Gethin, of Gethinge Grott, in Ireland, whose learning and virtues were so renowned that monuments were erected in her honour both at Bath and in Westminster Abbey. This youthful prodigy, who died at the age of twenty-one, is here represented kneeling between two angels, and holding in her hand the commonplace book which she filled with extracts from her favourite authors, and which was afterwards published under the title of "Reliquiæ Gethinianæ." Her piety was as great as her personal charms, and the inscription on her monument records how, "being adorned with all the Graces and Perfections of mind and body, crowned them all with exemplary Patience and Humility, and having the day before her death most devoutly received the Holy Communion, which she said she would not have omitted for Ten Thousand Worlds, she was vouchsafed in a miraculous manner an immediate prospect of her future Blisse, for the space of two hours, to the astonishment of all about her, and being, like St. Paul, in an unexpressible Transport of joy, thereby fully evincing her foresight of the Heavenly Glory, in unconceivable Raptures triumphing over Death, and continuing sensible to the last, she resigned her pious soul to God, and victoriously entered into rest, Oct. 11th, anno ætatis 21, D'ni: 1697. Her dear and affectionate Mother, whom God in mercy supported by seeing her glorious end, erected this monument, she being her last surviving issue." Soon after leaving Hollingbourne, the Pilgrims' Way enters the grounds of Stede Hill, and passes through the beech-woods that spread down the grassy slopes to the village and church of Harrietsham--Heriard's Home in Domesday--in the valley below. An altar-tomb, to the memory of Sir William Stede, who died in 1574, and several other monuments to members of the same family, may be seen in the south chapel of the church, a fine building of Early English and Perpendicular work, with a good rood-screen, standing in an open space at the foot of the Stede Hill grounds. The rectory of Harrietsham was formerly attached to the neighbouring Priory of Leeds, but was granted by Henry VI. to Archbishop Chichele's newly founded College of All Souls, Oxford, which still retains the patronage of this living. The manor was one of many in this neighbourhood given to Odo of Bayeux after the battle of Hastings, and afterwards formed part of the vast estates owned by Juliana de Leyborne, called the Infanta of Kent, who was married three times, but died without children, leaving her lands to become crown property. A mile farther the Pilgrims' Way enters the town of Lenham. This parish contains both the sources of the river Len--the _Aqua lena_ of the Romans--which flows through Harrietsham and by Leeds Castle into the Medway, and that of the Stour, which runs in the opposite direction towards Canterbury. Lenham has held a charter, and enjoyed the privileges of a town from mediæval times. The bright little market-square, full of old houses with massive oak beams, and quaint corners jutting out in all directions, hardly agrees with Hasted's description of Lenham as a dull, unfrequented place, where nothing thrives in the barren soil, and the inhabitants, when asked by travellers if this is Lenham, invariably reply, "Ah, sir, poor Lenham!" The picturesqueness of its buildings is undeniable, and its traditions are of the highest antiquity. The manor of Lenham was granted to the Abbey of St. Augustine at Canterbury by Cenulf, king of Mercia, more than a thousand years ago, and in the twelfth century the church was appropriated to the Refectory of St. Augustine; that is to say, the rectorial tithes were made to supply the monks' dinners. Some fragments of the original Norman church still exist, but the greater part of the present structure, the arcade of bays, the fine traceried windows of the aisle, and most of the chancel, belong to the Decorated period, and were rebuilt after the great fire in 1297, when not only the church, but the Abbot's barns and farm buildings were burnt to the ground by an incendiary. So great was the sensation produced by this act of wanton mischief, that Archbishop Winchelsea himself came to Lenham to see the ravages wrought by the fire, and fulminated a severe excommunication against the perpetrators of the wicked deed. The sixteen oak stalls for the monks, and an arched stone sedilia, of the fourteenth century, which served the Abbot for his throne when he visited his Lenham estates, are still to be seen in the chancel. Here, too, is a sepulchral effigy let into the north wall in a curious sideways position, representing a priest in his robes, supposed to be that of Thomas de Apulderfelde, who lived at Lenham in the reign of Edward II., and died in 1327. Both the western tower and the north chancel, dedicated to St. Edmund, and containing tombs of successive lords of East Lenham manor, are Perpendicular in style, and belong to the fourteenth or early part of the fifteenth century. Fragments of the fourteenth-century paintings, with which the walls of the whole church were once adorned, may still be distinguished in places. Among them are the figures of a bishop, probably St. Augustine, and of St. Michael weighing souls, with devils trying to turn the balance in their favour, on one side, and on the other the crowned Virgin throwing her rosary into the scale which holds the souls of the just. The church was dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin, and her image formerly occupied the niche in the timbered porch which, with the old lych-gate, are such fine specimens of fifteenth-century wood-work. The beautiful Jacobean pulpit was given by Anthony Honywood in 1622, and is charmingly carved with festoons of grapes and vine-leaves. The Honywoods also built the almshouses, with carved bargeboards and door-posts, in the street at Lenham, and an inscription in the chancel floor records the memory of that long-lived Dame, Mary Honywood, who before her death in 1620 saw no less than three hundred and sixty-seven of her descendants! [Illustration: MARKET-PLACE, LENHAM.] Close to the church are the great tithe barns, built after the fire in the fourteenth century by the Abbots of St. Augustine. The largest measures 157 feet long by 40 feet wide, and, saving the low stone walls, is built entirely of oak from the forests of the Weald. The enormous timbers are as sound and strong to-day as they were six hundred years ago, and for solidity of material and beauty of construction, this Kentish barn deserves to rank among the grandest architectural works of the age. The monks are gone, and the proud Abbey itself has long been laid in ruins, but these buildings give us some idea of the wealth and resources of the great community who were the lords of Lenham during so many centuries. They could afford to lend a kindly ear to the prayer of the poor vicar when he humbly showed the poverty with which he had to contend, and the load of the burden that he had to bear. The Abbot, we are glad to learn, granted his request, and agreed to give him a roof over his head and to allow his two cows to feed with the monks' own herds in the pastures at Lenham, during the months between the feast of St. Philip and St. James and Michaelmas. [Illustration: IN CHARING VILLAGE.] CHAPTER XI CHARING TO GODMERSHAM From Lenham the Pilgrims' Road threads its lonely way along the hill-side, past one or two decayed farmhouses still bearing the name of the great families who once owned these manors--the Selves and the Cobhams; and the view over the level country grows wider, and extends farther to the south and east, until we reach Charing Hill, one of the highest points along this range of downs. The windmill, a few hundred yards above the track, commands a far-spreading view over the valley, stretching from the foot of the ridge to the Quarry Hills, where the towers of Egerton Church stand out on its steep mound above the hazy plains of the Weald. We look down upon Calehill, the home of the Darells for the last five centuries, and across the woods and park of Surrenden Dering, which has been held by the Dering family ever since the days of Earl Godwin, to the churches and villages of the Weald. Beyond a foreground of swelling hill and dale we see the flat expanse of Romney Marsh and Dungeness; and then for the first time we catch a glimpse of a pale blue line of sea--that sea across which Roman and Saxon and Norman all sailed in turn to land upon the Kentish shore. On clear days you can see the Sussex downs in the far horizon beyond the Weald, and near Hastings, the hill of Fairlight rising sharply from the sea. Down in the valley below, the tall tower of Charing Church lifts its head out of a confused mass of red roofs and green trees, with the ivy-grown ruins of the old palace at its feet. Many are the venerable traditions attached to the churches and villages which we have seen along our road through this pleasant land of Kent, but here is one older and more illustrious than them all. Here we have a record which goes back far beyond the days of Lanfranc and of Athelstan, and even that king of Mercia who gave Lenham to the Abbey of St. Augustine. For Charing, if not actually given, as the old legend says, by Vortigern to the ancient British Church, was at all events among the first lands bestowed on Augustine and his companions by Ethelbert, king of Kent. Saxon historians tell us how that this most ancient possession of the church of Canterbury was seized by Offa, king of Mercia, in 757, but restored again by his successor, Cenulph, in the year 788. [Illustration: CHARING] Long before the Conqueror's time, the Archbishops had a house here. In Domesday Book, Charing is styled "proprium manorium archiepiscopi," being reserved by those prelates for their private use, and from those days until the manor was surrendered by Cranmer to Henry VIII. it remained a favourite residence of the Archbishops. In the thirteenth century the Franciscan Archbishop John Peckham dates many letters from his house at Charing, and Stratford, as Dean Hook tells us, was often there, and found consolation in this quiet retreat for the troubles of those stormy days. Chichele, Kemp, and Bourchier were also frequently here. Stratford first obtained the grant of a three days' fair to be held at Charing twice a year, on the festivals of St. George and St. Luke. Leland tells us that Cardinal Morton made great buildings at Charing, and the red and black brickwork still to be seen under the ivy of the farmhouse walls may be ascribed to him, but the great gateway with the chamber and hooded fireplace above, belongs to an earlier period, and was probably the work of Stratford in the fourteenth century. Some of the older stonework is to be found in the stables and cottages now occupying the site of the offices on the west of the court. The chapel, with its pointed arches and large windows, which in Hasted's time stood behind the modern dwelling-house, was taken down eighty years ago, but the great dining-hall, with its massive walls and fine decorated window, still remains standing. This hall, where archbishops sat in state, and kingly guests were feasted; where Henry VII. was royally entertained by Archbishop Warham, on the 24th of March, 1507, and where Henry VIII. stayed with all his train on his way to the Field of Cloth of Gold, is now used as a barn. But in its decay, it must be owned, the old palace is singularly picturesque. The wallflowers grow in golden clusters high up the roofless gables and along the arches of the central gateway; masses of apple-blossom hang over the grey stone walls, and ring-necked doves bask in the sunshine on the richly coloured tiles of the old banqueting-hall. Close by is the church of Charing, famous in the eyes of mediæval pilgrims for the possession of one hallowed relic, the block on which St. John the Baptist was beheaded, brought back, an old tradition says, by Richard Coeur de Lion from the Holy Land, and given by him to Archbishop Baldwin, when the King paid his devotions at the shrine of St. Thomas. This precious relic went the way of all relics in the sixteenth century, and is not mentioned in the long list of costly vestments and frontals recorded in an inventory of Church property taken at Charing in 1552. But Charing Church is still, in the words of the old chronicler, "a goodly pile." It is cruciform in shape, and contains some traces of Early English work, but it is mostly of later date. The windows are interesting on account of their great variety. There are three narrow lancets, several of Transitional and Perpendicular style, and one large and very remarkable square-headed Decorated window. The chapel of Our Lady, on the south side of the chancel, was built, towards the close of the fifteenth century, by Amy Brent, whose family owned the charming old manor-house of Wickens in this parish. The porch and fine tower, which forms so marked a feature in the landscape, was also chiefly built by the Brents, whose crest, a wyvern, is carved on the doorway, together with a rose encircled with sun-rays, the badge of Edward IV., in whose reign the work was completed. Through this handsome doorway the Archbishop, attended by his cross-bearers and chaplains, would enter from the palace-gate hard by, and many must have been the stately processions which passed under the western arch and wound up the long nave in the days of Morton and of Warham. A hundred years later Charing Church narrowly escaped entire destruction. On the 4th of August, 1590, a farmer, one Mr. Dios, discharged a birding-piece at a pigeon roosting, as the pigeons do to this day, in the church tower, and "the day being extreme hot and the shingle very dry," a fire broke out in the night, and by morning nothing was left but the bare walls of the church, even the bells being melted by the heat of the fire. Happily the parishioners applied themselves with patriotic zeal to the restoration, and within two years the fine timber roof of the nave was completed. The date 1592, E.R. 34, is inscribed on the rafter above the chancel arch, while that of the chancel roof Ann. Dom. 1622, Anno Regni Jacobi xviii., appears on the beam immediately over the altar. The Pilgrims' Way winds on through Charing past the noble church tower and the ancient palace wall, with its thick clusters of ivy and trailing wreaths of travellers' joy, through the lovely woods of Pett Place, the home of Honywoods and Sayers for some hundreds of years. The track crosses the long avenue of stately limes which leads up to its gates, and through the meeting boughs we see the red gables and tall chimneys of the old Tudor house. In the fourteenth century the owners of Pett had a chapel of their own, served by a priest whose name appears in the Lambeth Register and other records as holding the living of Pette-juxta-Charing; and Geoffery de Newcourt, who owned this manor, together with the adjoining one of Newcourt, paid the king an aid on his lands of Pett, when the Black Prince was knighted. A pleasant part of the track this is dear to botanists for the wealth of ferns, flowers, and rare orchises which grow along the shady path; pleasant alike in May, when cowslips and violets grow thick in the grass and the nightingales are in full song, and in June, when the ripe red fruit of the wild strawberries peep out from under the moss and the hawthorns are in bloom, but perhaps best of all in autumn, when the beeches are crimson and the maples in the hedges are one fire of gold. For the next three miles, the way lies through the lower part of the great woods of Long Beech, which stretch all over these hills, and which from very early times belonged to the see of Canterbury. It brings us out at Westwell, close to another extremely interesting church, dating from the middle of the thirteenth century, and almost entirely of one period. The graceful steeple, nave, chancel, and aisles, are all Early English, but the most striking feature is the high open colonnade which forms the rood-screen. The effect of the chancel, with its side arcade, its groined roof, and beautiful lancet window filled with richly-coloured old glass, seen through these three lofty arches, is very imposing. There is another curious fragment of stained glass, bearing the arms of Queen Anne of Bohemia and of Edward the Confessor and his wife, in the north aisle, and the chancel contains six stone walls and a stone seat with a pointed arch, which were formerly used by the monks and prior of Christ Church, Canterbury. For the manor of Westwell, like so many others in this neighbourhood, belonged to the see of Canterbury before the Conquest, and at the division of property effected by Lanfranc was retained by the Priory. Its revenues were allotted to the supply of the monks' refectory, _ad cibum eorum_, just as the tithes of Lenham were used to provide meals for St. Augustine's Abbey. [Illustration: OLD YEWS AND OAK IN EASTWELL PARK.] Half a mile above Westwell Church the Pilgrims' Way reaches the gates of Eastwell. Here the track disappears for a time, but old maps show the line which it took across the southern slopes of the park, which extends for many miles, and is famous for the wild beauty of its scenery. The hills we have followed so long run through the upper part of the park, and magnificent are the views of the sea and Sussex downs which meet us in these forest glades, where stately avenues of beech and oak and chestnut throw long shadows over the grass, and antlered deer start up from the bracken at our feet. But the lower slopes are pleasant too, with the venerable yews and thorns and hornbeams dotted over the hill-side, and the heights above clad with a wealth of mingled foliage which is reflected in the bright waters of the still, clear lake. The old ivy-grown church stands close to the water's edge, and contains some fine tombs of the Earls of Winchelsea, and of their ancestors, the Finches. But the traveller will look with more interest on the sepulchral arch which is said to cover the ashes of the last of the Plantagenets. The burial registers indeed record that Richard Plantagenet, the illegitimate son of Richard III., died at Eastwell on the 22nd of December, 1550, and a well, which goes by the name of Plantagenet's Well, marks the site of the cottage where he lived in confinement after the defeat of his father on Bosworth Field. Eastwell House, for some years the residence of H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh, was originally built by Sir Thomas Moyle, Speaker of the House of Commons in the reign of Henry VIII., but has been completely altered and modernised since it passed into the Winchelsea family. Leaving it on our left, we come out of the Park at Boughton Lees, a group of houses on a three-cornered green, and follow in the steps of the old track to Boughton Aluph church, a large cruciform building with a spacious north aisle and massive central tower, standing in a very lonely situation. Boughton, called Bocton or Boltune in former times, belonged to Earl Godwin and his son Harold, before the Conquest, after which it was given to Eustace, Earl of Boulogne, and formed part of Juliana de Leybourne's vast inheritance. It took the name of Aluph from a Norman knight, Aluphus de Bocton, who held the manor in the reign of King John, and became thus distinguished from the other parishes of Boughton in the neighbourhood. From the church a grassy lane, shaded by trees, ascends the hill to Challock on the borders of Eastwell Park, and is probably the old track of the Pilgrims' Way which passed between these woods and the park of Godmersham. This was formerly the property of Jane Austen's brother, who took the name of Knight on succeeding to the estate, but it has now passed into the hands of another family. Until the Dissolution the manor and church of Godmersham belonged to Christ Church, and here, in mediæval days, the priors of the convent had a fine manor-house, where they frequently resided during the summer months. The hall was pulled down in 1810, and nothing of the old house is now left except a gable and doorway, adorned with a figure of a Prior wearing his mitre and holding his crozier in his hand, probably intended for Henry de Estria, the Prior who rebuilt the manor-house in 1290. The church of Godmersham is remarkable for its early tower and curious semicircular apse with small Norman lights, which are evidently remains of an older building, and in the churchyard are some very ancient yews, one of which is said to have been planted before the Conquest. Under the shadow of these venerable trees there sleeps a remarkable woman, Mary Sybilla Holland, whose father was at one time Vicar of Godmersham, and afterwards moved to Harbledown, a larger parish near Canterbury, a few miles further along the Pilgrims' Way. Both Mrs. Holland and her distinguished brother, the lamented Sir Alfred Lyall, retained a lifelong affection for this corner of East Kent. When Lyall was far away in India, ruling over millions of British subjects, in the north-west provinces, his verses tell us how passionately he yearned for his old Kentish home. "Ah! that hamlet in Saxon Kent, Shall I find it when I come home? With toil and travelling well-nigh spent, Tired with life in jungle and tent, Eastward never again to roam. Pleasantest corner the world can show In a vale which slopes to the English sea-- Where strawberries wild in the woodland grow, And the cherry-tree branches are bending low, No such fruit in the South countree." Sir Alfred died on the 10th of April, 1911, at Lord Tennyson's house at Farringford, in the Isle of Wight, and was buried in the churchyard of St. Michael's, Harbledown. Now brother and sister are both sleeping under the grassy sod of the Kentish land which they loved so well, "where the nightingales sing heart-piercing notes in the silence of the early summer night." "Shelter for me and for you, my friend, There let us settle when both are old, And whenever I come to my journey's end, There you shall see me laid, and blend Just one tear with the falling mould." [Illustration: THE PLACE, WROTHAM.] [Illustration: CHILHAM.] CHAPTER XII CHILHAM TO HARBLEDOWN The Pilgrims' Way skirted the wooded slopes of Godmersham Park for about a mile, and then entered Chilham Park. The park is now closed, but the old track lay right across the park, and in front of Chilham Castle. The position of this fortress, overlooking the valley of the Stour, has made it memorable in English history. Chilham has been in turn a Roman camp, a Saxon castle, and a Norman keep, and has played an eventful part in some of the fiercest struggles of those days. According to a generally received tradition recorded by Camden, Chilham was the scene of the battle on the river in Cæsar's second expedition; and the British barrow near the Stour, popularly known as Julaber's Grave, was believed to be the tomb of the Roman tribune, Julius Laberius, although, as a matter of fact, it contains no sepulchral remains. In the second century Chilham is said to have been the home of that traditional personage, the Christian King Lucius, and in Saxon days of the chief Cilla. The castle was strongly fortified to resist the invasion of the Danes, by whom it was repeatedly attacked. After the Norman Conquest it belonged to Fulbert de Dover, whose last descendant, Isabel, Countess of Atholl, died here in 1292, and is buried in the under-croft at Canterbury. Then it passed into the hands of the great Lord Badlesmere, of Leeds, who on one occasion gave Queen Isabel, the wife of Edward II., a splendid reception here, and afterwards astonished the peaceful citizens and monks of Canterbury by appearing at their gates, followed by nineteen armed knights, each with a drawn sword in his hand, to pay his devotions at the shrine of St. Thomas. As late as the sixteenth century Leland describes Chilham Castle as beautiful for pleasure, commodious for use, and strong for defence; but soon after he wrote these words, the greater part of the old house was pulled down by its owner, Sir Thomas Cheney, Warden of the Cinque Ports under Edward VI., to complete his new mansion in the Isle of Sheppey. The Norman keep, an octagonal fortress three stories high, is the only part of the mediæval structure that now remains, and can still be seen in the gardens of the new house built in 1616 by Sir Dudley Digges, Master of the Rolls in the reign of James I. This fine Jacobean manor-house stands well on the rising ground above the river, and both the garden terrace and the top of the old keep afford beautiful views of the vale of Ashford and the downs beyond the Wye. Still more picturesque is the market-place of Chilham itself. On one side we have the red brick walls and white stone doorway of the castle, seen at the end of its short avenue of tall lime trees on the other the quaint red roofs and timbered houses of the charming old square, with the grey church tower surrounded by the brilliant green of sycamores and beeches. On a bright spring morning, when the leaves are young and the meadows along the river-side are golden with buttercups, there can be no prettier picture than this of the old market square of Cilla's home. From the heights of Chilham the Pilgrims' Way descends into the valley of the Stour, and after following the course of the river for a short time, climbs the opposite hill and strikes into Bigberry Wood. Here we come suddenly upon the most ancient earthwork along the whole line of the road, an entrenchment which Professor Boyd Dawkins, who explored it thoroughly some years ago, has ascribed to the prehistoric Iron Age. For most of us, perhaps, Bigberry Camp has a still greater interest as the fort which the Britons held against the assault of the Roman invaders, and which was stormed and carried by Cæsar's legions. The memory of that desperate fight, which sealed the fate of Britain and her conquest by the great Proconsul, still lingers in the popular mind, and the shepherd who follows his flock and the waggoner who drives his team along the road, still talk of the famous battle that was fought here two thousand years ago. After this the path crosses the valley and runs through the hop-gardens to join Watling Street--the road by which Chaucer's pilgrims came to Canterbury--at Harbledown. This is the little village on the edge of the forest of Blean, which has been immortalised by Chaucer's lines-- "Wist ye not where standeth a little toun Which that ycleped is Bob-up-and-down, Under the Blee in Canterbury way." [Illustration: ON THE VILLAGE GREEN, CHARTHAM] And Bob-up-and-down is to this day a true and characteristic description of the rolling ground by which we approach Harbledown. Here the Pilgrims' Road, along which we have journeyed over hill and dale, fails to rise again. We climb the last hill, and on the summit of the rising ground we find ourselves close to the lazar-house founded at Harbledown by Lanfranc in 1084. The wooden houses built by the Norman Archbishop for the reception of ten brothers and seven sisters have been replaced by a row of modern almshouses; but the chapel still preserves its old Norman doorway, and the round arches and pillars of an arcade to the north of the nave, which formed part of the hospital church dedicated by Lanfranc to St. Nicholas. The devout pilgrim to St. Thomas's shrine never failed to visit this ancient leper-house. Not only did the antiquity of the charitable foundation and its nearness to the road attract him, but in the common hall of the hospital a precious relic was preserved in the shape of a crystal which had once adorned the leather of St. Thomas's shoe. Many were the royal personages and distinguished strangers who paused before these old walls and dropped their alms into the poor leper's outstretched hand. Here, we read in contemporary records, Henry II. came on his first memorable pilgrimage to the tomb of the martyred Archbishop, and Richard Coeur de Lion after his release from his long captivity. Edward I. stopped at Harbledown with his brave Queen, Eleanor of Castille, on their return from the Holy Land, and the Black Prince, accompanied by his royal captive, King John of France, and that monarch's young son Philip, also visited the leper-house. And when the French king visited Canterbury for the second time, on his return to his own kingdom, he did not forget to stop at Lanfranc's old lazar-house and leave ten gold crowns "pour les nonnains de Harbledoun." But it is a later and more sceptical traveller, Erasmus, who has left us the most vivid description of Harbledown and of the feelings which the sight of the relic aroused in the heart of his companion, Dean Colet. "Not far from Canterbury, at the left-hand side of the road," he writes, in the record of his pilgrimage, "there is a small almshouse for old people, one of whom ran out, seeming to hear the steps of the horses. He first sprinkled us with holy water, and then offered us the upper leather of a shoe bound in a brass rim, with a crystal set in its centre like a jewel. Gration (Dean Colet) rode on my left hand, nearer to the beggar man, and was duly sprinkled, bearing it with a tolerable amount of equanimity. But when the shoe was handed up, he asked the old man what he wanted. 'It is the shoe of St. Thomas,' was the answer. Upon this he fired up, and turning to me, exclaimed indignantly, 'What! do these cattle mean we should kiss the shoes of every good man?'" Erasmus, sorry for the old man's feelings, dropped a small coin into his hand, which made him quite happy, and the two pilgrims rode on to London, discussing the question of the worship of relics as they went. To this day a maple bowl, bound with a brass rim, containing a piece of crystal, is preserved in the hospital at Harbledown, the self-same relic, it may be, which was shown to Erasmus and Colet, and which Lambarde, writing half a century later, describes as "faire set in copper and chrystall"; while an old wooden box, with a slit in the lid for money, and a chain attached to it, is said to be the one into which Erasmus dropped his coin. Behind the ivy-mantled tower of Lanfranc's chapel is a clear spring which was supposed to possess healing virtues, and is still believed by the country folks to be of great benefit to the eyes. This spring still goes by the name of the Black Prince's Well, from an old tradition that the warrior of Crecy and Poitiers drank of its waters when he visited the hospital at Harbledown in 1357. Many, we know, are the memorials of this popular hero at Canterbury. Only three days after he landed at Sandwich he came, accompanied by his royal captive, to return thanks at St. Thomas's shrine for his victories, and six years afterwards he founded and decorated the beautiful chantry in the Cathedral crypt, which still bears his name, on the occasion of his marriage with his cousin Joan, the Fair Maid of Kent. The old legend of the Black Prince's Well goes on to tell how, when he lay dying of the wasting disease which carried him off in the flower of his life, he thought of the wonder-working spring near Canterbury, and sent to Harbledown for a draught of its pure waters. But even that could not save him, and on the 29th of September, 1376, a stately funeral procession wound its way down the hill-side at Harbledown, bearing the Black Prince to the grave which he had chosen for himself in the Chapel of Our Lady of the Undercroft at Canterbury. At Harbledown the pilgrims caught their first sight of the Cathedral; here they fell on their knees when they saw the golden angel on the top of the central tower, and knew that the goal of their pilgrimage was almost reached. Here Chaucer's goodly company made their last halt, and for the moment the noise of singing and piping and jingling of bells gave place to a graver and more solemn mood as the motley crowd of pilgrims pressed around, to hear this time not a Canterbury tale, but a sermon. Deep was the impression which that first sight of Canterbury made upon Erasmus. The cold, critical scholar becomes eloquent as he describes the great church of St. Thomas rearing itself up into the sky with a majesty that strikes awe into every heart, and the clanging of bells which, thrilling through the air, salute the pilgrims from afar. To-day the great cross is gone from the Westgate, the shining archangel no longer blesses the kneeling pilgrim from the topmost steeple, but the same glorious vision of the great Cathedral rising with all its towers into the sky meets the eyes of the traveller who looks down on Canterbury from the hill of Harbledown. [Illustration: CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH-WEST] [Illustration: ST. NICHOLAS', HARBLEDOWN.] CHAPTER XIII HARBLEDOWN TO CANTERBURY From Harbledown it is all downhill to Canterbury, and a short mile brings us to the massive round tower of Simon of Sudbury's noble Westgate, the only one remaining of the seven fortified gateways which once guarded the ancient city. Many are the pilgrims who have entered Canterbury by this gate: kings and queens of all ages, foreign emperors and princes, armed knights and humble scholars, good Queen Philippa and Edward Plantagenet, Henry of Agincourt, Margaret of Anjou, Chaucer and Erasmus. Many, too, are the long processions which have wound down this hill-side: newly created archbishops followed by a brilliant train of bishops and courtiers on their way to be enthroned in the chair of St. Augustine; solemn funerals, attended with all the pomp and circumstance, the funeral plumes and sable trappings, with which men honour the mighty dead. Through the Westgate went forth that gay company of monks and friars, of merchants and citizens crowned with garlands of flowers, and making joyous minstrelsy, as they rode out to welcome Archbishop Winchelsea, who, once a poor student in the school at Canterbury, now came to be enthroned in state in the presence of King Edward I. and all his court. And this way, too, they bore him with much state and pomp, eighteen years later, from the manor-house at Otford, where he died, to sleep in his own Cathedral after all the labours and struggles, the storms and changes of his troublous reign. [Illustration: THE WEST GATE, CANTERBURY.] Since these mediæval days Canterbury has seen many changes. The splendours of which Camden and Leland wrote have passed away, the countless number of its churches has been reduced, and their magnificence no longer strikes the eye of the stranger. The lofty walls and their twenty-one watch-towers, which encircled the city in a complete ring when Chaucer's knight, after paying his devotion at the shrine of St. Thomas, went out to see their strength, and "pointed to his son both the perill and the doubt," are all gone, and the Conqueror's mighty castle is turned into a coal-pit. But the old city is still full of quaint corners and picturesque buildings, timbered houses with carved corbels and oriel windows, hostelries with overhanging eaves and fantastic sign-boards of wrought-iron work, hospitals whose charters date from Norman times, and whose records give us many a curious peep into the byways of mediæval life. As we draw near the Martyr's shrine, memories of St. Thomas crowd upon us. The hill outside the Westgate, now occupied by the Clergy Orphan School, is still called St. Thomas's Hill, and was formerly the site of a chapel founded by Becket himself. A little way up the High Street we reach a bridge over the Stour, which winds its way through the heart of the city, and a low pointed doorway on our right leads into St. Thomas's Hospital. This ancient Spittle of East Bridge was founded, as a fourteenth-century charter records, by the "glorious St. Thomas the Martyr, to receive poor wayfaring men." Archbishop Hubert Walter increased its endowments in the twelfth century, and Stratford repaired the walls in the fourteenth, and drew up statutes for its government. From that time it was especially devoted to the use of poor pilgrims, for whom twelve beds were provided, and whose wants were supplied at the rate of fourpence a day. During those days, when the enthusiasm for St. Thomas was at its height, alms and legacies were lavished upon Eastbridge Hospital, and Edward III. bequeathed money to support a chaplain, whose duty it was to say daily masses for the founders of the hospital. After the days of pilgrimages were over, this hospital was applied to various uses until Archbishop Whitgift recovered the property and drew up fresh statutes for its management. Ten poor brothers and sisters still enjoy the fruit of St. Thomas's benevolence, and dwell in the old house built on arches across the bed of the river. The low level of the floor, which has sunk far below that of the street, and the vaulted roof and time-worn pillars, bear witness to its great antiquity. There can be little doubt that the round arches of the Norman crypt belong to St. Thomas's original foundation, while the pointed windows of the chapel and Early English arches of the refectory form part of Archbishop Stratford's improvements. In this hall some portions of frescoes, representing on the one hand the Last Supper, on the other the Martyrdom of the Saint, the penance of Henry II. at his tomb, with the central figure of Christ in Glory, have been lately recovered from under the coat of whitewash which had concealed them for more than two centuries. Twice a year, we know, at the summer festival of the Translation of St. Thomas, on the 7th of July, and at the winter festival of the Martyrdom, on the 29th of December, Canterbury was crowded with pilgrims, and a notice was placed in the High Street ordering the due provision of beds and entertainment for strangers. The concourse was still greater on the jubilees of the Translation, when indulgences were showered freely on all who visited the shrine, and the festival lasted for a whole fortnight. At the jubilee of the year 1420, just after the victory of Agincourt, no less than a hundred thousand pilgrims are said to have been present. On such occasions every available corner was occupied; the inns, which were exceedingly numerous, the hospitals, and, above all, the religious houses, were thronged with strangers. The most favourite, the most renowned, of all the hostelries was the Chequers of the Hope, the inn where Chaucer's twenty-nine pilgrims took up their quarters. "At Chekers of the Hope that every man doth know." This ancient inn, which Prior Chillenden rebuilt about 1400, stood at the corner of High Street and Mercery Lane, the old Merceria, which was formerly lined with rows of booths and stalls for the sale of pilgrimage tokens, such as are to be found in the neighbourhood of all famous shrines. Both ampullas, small leaden bottles containing a drop of the martyr's blood, which flowed perennially from a well in the precincts, and Caput Thomæ, or brooches bearing the saint's mitred head, were eagerly sought after by all Canterbury pilgrims. So too were the small metal bells which are said to have given their name to the favourite Kentish flower, the Canterbury bell. And we read that the French king, John, stopped at the Mercery stalls to buy a knife for the Count of Auxerre. The position of the inn close to the great gate of Christ Church naturally attracted many visitors, and the spacious cellars with vaulted roofs, which once belonged to the inn, may still be seen, although the inner courtyard and the great chamber upstairs occupied by the pilgrims, and known as the Dormitory of Hundred Beds, were burnt down forty years ago. But the old street front, with its broad eaves overhanging the narrow lane leading up to the great gateway at the other end, still remains, and renders Mercery Lane the most picturesque and interesting corner of the Cathedral city. The religious houses were open to all comers, and while royal visitors were lodged in St. Augustine's Abbey, the convents of the Mendicant orders were largely frequented by the poorer classes. There was also the house of the Whitefriars or Augustinians in the eastern part of the town, close to St. George's Gate, and the hospital of St. John in the populous Northgate, "that faire and large house of stone," built and endowed by Lanfranc in the eleventh century, besides that of Eastbridge, which has been already mentioned, and many other smaller foundations. But it was in the great Priory of Christ Church that by far the largest number of pilgrims found hospitable welcome. A considerable part of the convent buildings was set aside for their reception. The Prior himself entertained distinguished strangers, and lodged them in the splendid suite of rooms overlooking the convent garden, known as the Omers or Homers--Les Ormeaux--from a neighbouring grove of elms. This range of buildings, including the banqueting-hall, generally known as "Meister Omers," was broken up into prebendal houses after the Dissolution, and supplied three separate residences for members of the new Chapter, which gives us some idea of the size of these lodgings. For ordinary strangers there was the Guest Hall, near the kitchen, on the west side of the Prior's Court, which was under the especial charge of a cellarer appointed to provide for the needs of the guests. Prior Chillenden, whom Leland describes as "the greatest builder of a Prior that ever was in Christ Church," repaired and enlarged this Strangers' Hall early in the fifteenth century, and added a new chamber for hospitality, which bore the name of Chillenden's Guest Chamber, and now forms part of the Bishop of Dover's house. Finally, without the convent precincts, close to the court gateway, where the beautiful Norman stairway leads up to the Great Hall, or Aula Nova, was the Almonry. Here the statutes of Archbishop Winchelsea--he who had known what it was to hunger and thirst in his boyhood, and who remained all through his greatness the friend of the poor--provided that poor pilgrims and beggars should be fed daily with the fragments of bread and meat, "which were many and great," left on the monks' tables, and brought here by the wooden pentise or covered passage leading from the kitchen. This Almonry became richly endowed by wealthy pilgrims in course of years, and early in the fourteenth century Prior Henry of Estria built a chapel close by, which was dedicated to St. Thomas the Martyr, and much frequented by pilgrims. The Almony was turned into a mint-yard at the Dissolution, and the chapel and priests' lodgings attached to it, now belong to the King's School. Another privilege freely conceded by the prior and monks of this great community to pilgrims of all ranks and nationality who might die at Canterbury, was that of burial within the precincts of Christ Church, close to the blessed martyr's shrine, and under the shadow of the Cathedral walls. [Illustration: MERCERY LANE, CANTERBURY.] CHAPTER XIV THE MARTYR'S SHRINE Erasmus has described the imposing effect of the great Cathedral church on the stranger who entered its doors for the first time, and saw the nave "in all its spacious majesty." The vision which broke upon the eyes of those pilgrims who, like himself and Dean Colet, visited Canterbury in the early years of the sixteenth century, may well have filled all hearts with wonder. For then the work was well-nigh perfected. The long roll of master-builders, from Prior Wibert and De Estria to Chillenden and Sellyng, had faithfully accomplished their task. Prior Goldstone, the last but one who reigned before the Dissolution, had just completed the central tower, the great labour of his predecessor Prior Sellyng's life, and was in the act of building the noble Perpendicular gateway which forms a fitting entrance to the precincts. And now the great church stood complete. Without, "a very goodly, strong, and beautiful structure": the traceries and mouldings of the windows, the stone canopies and sculptured images of the portal, all perfect; the glorious towers in their might; Bell Harry Steeple, as we see it to-day, matchless in its strength and beauty; and beside it, rivalling its grace and majesty, the ancient Norman tower, which bore the name of Ethelbert, crowned with the Arundel spire. Within, a richness and splendour to which our eyes are wholly unaccustomed: chapels and chantries lining the great nave, fresh from Prior Chillenden's work; altars glittering with lighted tapers and gold and silver ornaments; roof and walls bright with painting and gilding, or decked with silken tapestry hangings; carved images covered with pearls and gems; stained windows throwing their hues of ruby and sapphire across the floor, and lighting up the clouds of incense as they rose heavenward. All this, and much more, met the pilgrims' wondering eyes. No wonder they stood "half amazed," as the Supplementary Tale to Chaucer's Pilgrimage describes "the gardener and the miller and the other lewd sets," gazing up at the painted windows, and forgetting to move on with the crowd. [Illustration: THE MARTYRDOM, CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL.] Then the show began. First of all the pilgrims were led up a vaulted passage and "many steps" to the Transept of the Martyrdom, where the wooden altar, at the foot of which the saint fell, remained to show the actual place of the murder, and its guardian priest--the _Custos Martyrum_--displayed the rusty sword of Richard le Breton. Next, descending the flight of steps on the right, they were led into the dark crypt, where more priests received them, and presented the saint's skull, encased in silver, to be kissed, and other relics, including the famous girdle and hair-shirt. This _Caput Thomæ_ was one of the chief stations at which offerings were made, and the altar on which it lay, mentioned in the Black Prince's will as "the altar where the head is," marked the site of the original grave where the saint was buried by the frightened monks on the day after the murder. The tomb stood in the eastern chapel of Ernulf's crypt, under the beautiful Pointed arches afterwards raised by that great architect, William the Englishman, whom Gervase describes as "small in body, but in workmanship skilled and honest." Soon it acquired a miraculous virtue, and the fame of the cures and wonders wrought there rang throughout the world. It was the scene of Henry II.'s penance, and during the next fifty years it remained the central object of interest to the crowds of pilgrims who came from all parts of Christendom. Coeur de Lion, accompanied by William, King of Scotland, knelt here on his way to the Crusades, to implore the martyr's blessing on his arms. Many were the Crusaders from all parts of France and England who came thither on the same errand. King John and his wife Isabella, who were crowned at Canterbury Cathedral by Archbishop Hubert Walter, at Easter, 1201, offered their coronation canopies at this tomb and vast sums of money were yearly offered here until 1220, when the body of St. Thomas was translated, in the presence of the young King Henry III., to the new Shrine in Trinity Chapel, immediately above the tomb in the crypt. In that year the offerings at the tomb, at the Altar of the Sword's Point, and at the new Shrine, reached the enormous amount of £1,071, a sum equal to more than £20,000 of money at the present time. After this, the offerings at the original tomb in the crypt diminished in number and value, but the altar and relics of the _Caput Thomæ_ remained an object of deep reverence until the Reformation. From the dark vaults of the subterranean church the pilgrims were led up the steps to the north aisle of the choir. Here the great mass of relics, including St. George's arm and no less than four hundred skulls, jaws, teeth, hands, and other bones, were displayed in gold, silver, or ivory caskets, and pilgrims were allowed a glimpse of the magnificent vessels and ornaments stored up under the high altar. "All the gold of Midas and Croesus," exclaims Erasmus, "would have been nothing by the side of these treasures!" and he confesses that he sighed to think he kept no such relics at home, and had to beg the saint's pardon for this very unholy emotion. The golden candlesticks and silken vestments of the sacristy in St. Andrew's tower, and the saint's pallium, which no ordinary pilgrims might see, were also shown to Erasmus and Colet, who brought with them a letter of introduction from Archbishop Warham. After duly inspecting these precious objects, they mounted the long flight of steps behind the high altar leading into Trinity Chapel; a continual ascent, "church, as it were, piled upon church," which seems to have greatly heightened the impression produced upon the awe-struck pilgrims. Now at last they stood within the holiest of holies. There, before their eyes, was the goal of all their journeyings, the object of their deepest devotion, the Shrine which held the body of the blessed martyr. [Illustration: SITE OF THE SHRINE OF ST. THOMAS, CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL.] The Shrine itself, covered by a painted canopy of wood, rested on stone arches in the centre of the floor, exactly under the gilded crescent which is still to be seen in the Cathedral roof. On the right was the richly carved and canopied monument of Henry IV. and his Queen, Joan of Navarre, with its elaborate effigies of the royal pair wearing their crowns and robes of state; on the left the tomb of Edward the Black Prince. He had willed to sleep before the altar of Our Lady of the Under-croft, in the chapel adorned by his own gifts, but the people who had loved him so well would not allow their hero to remain buried out of sight in the dark crypt. So they brought him to rest by the great saint's Shrine, where all men could see his effigy of gilded bronze as he lay there, clad in armour, his sword by his side, his hands clasped in prayer, and read the pathetic lines which tell of his departed glories, and bid the passing stranger pray for his soul: "Pur Dieu, priez au Celestien Roy, Que mercy ait de l'âme de moy." His was the first tomb that was ever raised in the sacred precincts devoted to the martyr's Shrine, and to this day it remains there, unhurt by the hand of time or the more cruel violence of man. Up the worn stone steps which still bear the marks left by thousands of feet and knees, the pilgrims climbed, murmuring words of prayer or chanting the popular Latin hymns to St. Thomas: "Tu, per Thomæ sanguinem, Quem pro te impendit, Fac nos, Christe, scandere Quo Thomas ascendit." Here the Prior himself received them, and showed them first the corona or crown of Becket's head, preserved in a golden likeness of St. Thomas's face, ornamented with pearls and precious gems, which had been presented by Henry V. Then, at a given sign, the wooden canopy was drawn up by ropes, and the Shrine itself, embossed with gold and glittering with countless jewels that flashed and sparkled with light, was revealed to the eyes of the pilgrims. They all fell upon their knees and worshipped, while the Prior with his white wand pointed out the balass-rubies and diamonds, the sapphires and emeralds, which adorned the Shrine, and told the names of the royal persons by whom these gifts had been presented. There were rings and brooches and chains without end, golden and silver statues offered by kings and queens, the crown of Scotland brought back by Edward I. after his victory over John Baliol, and the _regale_ of France, that superb ruby presented at the tomb in the crypt by Louis VII., which shone like fire, and was as costly as a king's ransom. Full of awe and wonder the spectators gazed with admiring eyes on these treasures, which for beauty and splendour were beyond all they had ever dreamt, until the canopy slowly descended, and the Shrine was once more hidden from their sight. Then they went their way, some to visit the convent buildings, the noble chapter-house with its gabled roof and stained windows, and the glazed walk of the cloisters, glowing with bright colours and decorated with heraldic devices of benefactors to Christ Church painted on the bosses of the vaulting. Others made themselves fresh and gay, and went out to see the city, the Knight and his son to look at the walls, the Prioress and the Wife of Bath to walk in the herbary of the inn. But for Erasmus and his rather inconvenient companion there was still a sight in store, only reserved for very exalted personages, or such as had friends at court. Prior Goldstone, a gentle and well-bred man, not altogether ignorant, as Erasmus found, of the Scotian theology, himself took them back into the crypt, and lanterns were brought to illumine the dark vaults. By their light the Prior led the way into the church of Our Lady of the Undercroft, which was divided from the rest of the crypt by strong iron railings. Here the two friends saw what Erasmus might well call "a display of more than royal splendour." For here, surrounded by exquisitely carved stonework screens and a beautiful reredos with delicate traceries and mouldings, richly coloured and gilt, was the altar of Our Lady, adorned with precious ornaments and twinkling with hundreds of silver lamps. There in the central niche, under a crocketed and pinnacled canopy, stood the famous silver image of the Blessed Virgin herself. And there was the jewelled tabernacle and frontal, with its picture of the Assumption worked in gold, and the chalice and cruets in the form of angels, and the great silver candelabra with which the Black Prince had enriched his favourite shrine. There too were the costly gifts and jewels presented by his son, Richard II., the gold brooches offered yearly by Edward I., the white silk vestments, diapered with a vine pattern of blue, bequeathed by the Black Prince, and countless other rare and precious things, which filled Erasmus with envy and wonder. But then, as ill luck would have it, the Prior conducted his guests into the sacristy, where on bended knees he opened a black leathern chest, out of which he produced a parcel of ragged handkerchiefs with which St. Thomas used to wipe his face. This was too much for Dean Colet's patience, already sorely tried as it had been by what he had seen and heard. When the gentle Prior offered him one of the filthy rags as a present, he shrank back in evident disgust, and turned up his nose with an expression of contempt which filled Erasmus with shame and terror. Fortunately the Prior was a man of sense and courtesy, so he appeared to take no notice, and after giving his guests a cup of wine, politely bade them farewell. Before this Colet had alarmed his more timid friend by the bold way in which he had dared to question the priest who guarded the gilded head. He had even gone so far as to remark aloud that the saint who was so charitable in his lifetime, would surely be better pleased if some trifling part of these riches were spent in relieving the poor and destitute. Upon which the monk had glared at him with Gorgon eyes, and, Erasmus felt sure, would have turned them out of the church forthwith, had it not been for Archbishop Warham's letter. But in these words of the honest Dean we see a foreboding of the new and critical spirit that was fast undermining the old beliefs. Already the days of pilgrimages were numbered, and the glories of St. Thomas were on the wane. A few more years and the monks who guarded his treasures were rudely disturbed. The glorious Shrine was stripped of its priceless gems. The wrought gold and precious jewels were borne away in two enormous chests, such as six or seven men could barely lift. The wonderful ruby which flashed fire in the darkness was set in a ring and worn by King Harry himself on his thumb. Finally, to complete the sacrilege, the relics of the Saint were publicly burnt and his ashes scattered to the winds. Only the broken pavement and the marks of the pilgrims' knees in the stone floor were left to show future generations this spot, hallowed by the prayers and the worship of past ages. INDEX Abbotsworthy, 34 Abbott, E., "St. Thomas of Canterbury," 11 _note_ Abinger, 90; discovery of Roman remains at, 99 Addington, cromlechs at, 146 Æthelred II., 153 Agincourt, battle of, 198 Albury, 18, 82; yew hedge, 84; church, 83; Downs, 80; view from, 80; Park, 80, 87 Alexander III., Pope, 14 Alfred, King, 21, 72; founds the Abbey of Hyde, 28 Alice Holt forest, 50 Allen, Mr. Grant, 5 Alresford, 35, 38; New, cloth trade at, 39; result of the Civil Wars, 40; Old, 38 Alton, 28, 50 Anderida, forest of, 5 Apulderfelde, Thomas de, effigy of, 164 Aragon, Katherine of, portrait of, 131 Arle, ford of the, 38 Arundel, Thomas Howard, Earl of, 83; collector of the Arundel marbles, 83; portrait of, 83 Ash, 54 Ashburton, Lord, his famous Grange, 37 Ashford, 127; vale of, 184 Athelstan, 112, 134, 153, 169 Atholl, Isabel, Countess of, 183 Austen, Cassandra, 48 Austen, Jane, 46; her cottage at Chawton, 48; novels, 48; mode of life, 48; letters, 49 Avington Park, 36 Aylesford, 144; Common, 146 Badlesmere, Lord, of Leeds, 183 Baldwin, Archbishop, 172 Baliol, John, 212 Becket, St. Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, his murder, 7-9; championship for the rights of the Church, 9; journey to Canterbury, 9; miracles and cures wrought by, 10-12, 206; canonisation, 14; removal of his body, 15, 206; shrine, 16, 208-212; fame, 16; his house at Otford, 129; legends, 131; relics, 205, 207 Beggars' Corner, 58 Belloc, Hilaire, "The Old Road," vii Bentley Station, 52 Betchworth Park, 98 Bigberry Camp, 185; wood, 185 Birinus, church of, 22 Birling, 142; Place, 138 Bishop Sutton, 43 Black Prince, at Harbledown, 188; memorials of, 190; death, 191; tomb, 210 Black Prince's Well, 190 Blackdown, 80 Blagge, Mistress, portrait of, 92 Blean, forest of, 186 Bletchingley, discovery of Roman remains at, 100 Blois, Henry of, 24, 52 Bocton, Aluphus de, 178 Bohemia, Queen Anne of, the arms of, 175 Boleyn, Anne, portrait of, 67 Boniface, Archbishop, 143 Boscawen, Mrs., her birthplace, 132 Botley Hill, 118 Botolph, St., church of, 122; monuments, 122 Boughton Aluph church, 178 Boughton, Bocton or Boltune, 178 Boughton Lees, 178 Boughton Malherbe, 154 Boulogne, Eustace, Count of, 178 Box Hill, 94, 98 Boxley, the Cistercian Abbey of, 146; relics, 147 Boxley, 151; church, 152 Braboeuf Manor, 69 Brabourne, Lord, 49 Brent, Amy, 172 Brighton Downs, 107 Browne, Sir Richard, portrait of, 92 Brydges, George, 36 Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke of, 37 Buckland, 99 Bunker's Farm, 142 Bunyan, John, 101 Burford, 96 Burham church, 145 Calehill, 168 Calva, Ruald de, 77 Camden, W., 104, 195 Canterbury, routes taken by pilgrims, 3-6, 20, 28; number of, 16-18, 193, 198; characteristics, 195; the Chequers of the Hope Inn, 198; religious houses, 200; Priory of Christ Church, 200; the Omers or Homers, 200; Guest Hall, 201; the Almonry, 201 Canterbury Cathedral, the murder of Becket in, 9; "the choir of Conrad" destroyed by fire, 14; rebuilt, 14; number of pilgrims, 16-18, 193, 198; master-builders, 203; completion, 204; Transept of the Martyrdom, 205; relics, 205, 207; miracles and cures, 206; number of crusaders, 206; amount of offerings, 207; the Shrine, 208-212; the Church of Our Lady of the Undercroft, 213 Challock, 178 Chanctonbury Ring, 76, 107 Chantrey, Sir F. L., his effigy of Lady Frederica Stanhope, 124 Chantry Woods, 75 Chantry Ford, 87 Charing, 18; height of, 138; chapel, 170; church, 168, 171-173; traditions, 169; relic in, 171; destroyed by fire, 173; rebuilt, 173; fair at, 170; Hill, 168; manor, the residence of Archbishops, 170 Charles I., King, 53; Prayer Book used by, 94 Charles II., King, 36 Charterhouse 80 Chatham, Lord, his visits to Chevening, 122 Chaucer, G., lines from, 17, 186; his pilgrims, 61, 191 Chawton, 46 Cheney, Sir John, 158 Cheney, Sir Thomas, 184 Chequers of the Hope Inn, 198 Cheriton battle, 41 Chevening church, 122; monuments in, 122; manor, 121; Park, 121; village, 122 Chilham Castle, 182-184; manor-house, 184; Park, 182 Chillenden Prior, 198, 201 Chilworth, 78; powder-mills, 78-80 Ciderhouse Cottage, 75; Lane, 75 Clere, St., mansion, 132 Cobbett, Richard, 54 Cobbett, William, his "Rural Rides," 5, 35, 76, 78, 106, 109, 152; his birthplace, 54; at Albury, 84; Godstone, 114 Cold-harbour Green, 118 Colet, Dean, at Harbledown, 188-190; his visit to Canterbury Cathedral, 208; in the Church of Our Lady of the Undercroft, 213-215; treatment of the relics, 214 Colley Farm, 99; discovery of Roman remains at, 99 Compton, 58, 63, 69; church, 63 Copley, Sir Roger, 109 Corby Castle, 30 Courtenay, Archbishop, 143 Crooksbury, heights of, 54 St. Cross, Hospital of, 24 Crowborough Beacon, 107 Culpeper, Elizabeth, Lady, monument to, 158 Culpeper, John, Lord, the tapestries and altar-cloth worked by his daughters, 156; monument to, 158 Culpeper, Sir Thomas, 159 Cuxton ford, 141 Dacre, Lord, 121. _See_ Lennard Danefield, 129 Darent valley, 126 Dartford, 126 Dawkins, Prof. Boyd, 185 Day, Bishop, letter from, 68 Deane, Archbishop, 130 Deepdene Park, 98 Denbies Park, 97 Denmark, Anne of, 66; portrait of, 66 Deptford, 3 Detling, 152; height of, 138 Digges, Sir Dudley, 184 Dios, Mr., 173 Dorking, 95, 97 Dover, 3 Dover, Fulbert de, 183 Drummond, Mr., 83 Dungeness, 168 Dürer, Albert, 112 East Grinstead, 107 Eastbridge Hospital, 196 Eastwell, 176; church, 177; House, 177; Park, 126 Edinburgh, H.R.H. the Duke of, his residence Eastwell House, 177 Edward I., King, 26, 130, 142, 212; at Harbledown, 188 Edward II., King, 50; his visit to Boxley Abbey, 148 Edward III., King, 196 Edward IV., King, 173 Edward VI., King, 105; portrait of, 67 Edward, the Black Prince, at Harbledown, 188; memorials of, 190; death, 191; tomb, 210 Effingham, Lady Howard of, 105 Egbert, King, 33 Egerton Church, 168 Eleanor of Castille, Queen, 188 Elizabeth, Queen, 53; her visits to Loseley, 66; to Leeds Castle, 154 Elliston-Erwood, Mr., "The Pilgrims' Road," vi Erasmus, at Harbledown, 188-190; his impressions of Canterbury Cathedral, 192, 203; on the relics, 207; in the Church of Our Lady of the Undercroft, 213-215 Estria, Prior Henry of, 179, 202 Ethelbald, King of Wessex, 52 Ethelred the Unready, 113 Ethelwold, Bishop, 22 Evelyn, John, 78, 84; his home at Wotton, 90; portrait, 92 Evershed's Rough, 90 Ewhurst Mill, 80 Fairlawn House, 136 Fairlight hill, 168 Farnham, 52; Castle, 52 Farrer, Sir Thomas, 100 Farringford, 180 Farthing copse, 77 Fitz Urse, Reginald, 9 Froyle Park, 52 Gatton church, 111; House, 111; park, 108, 112; town hall, 110 George I., King, 121 Gethin, Dame Grace, inscription on her monument, 159 Gethin, Sir Richard, 159 Giffard, Lady, 56 St. Giles' Hill, fair at, 31 Godmersham, 50; church, 179; manor, 179; park, 178, 182 Godstone, 114; The White Hart or Clayton Arms, 114 Godwin, Earl, 168, 178 Goldstone, Prior, 203, 213 Gomshall station, 94 Gravesend, 138 Greenway Court, 157 Greenwich, 3 Gresham, Sir John, 119 Gresham, Sir Marmaduke, 119 Gresham, Sir Thomas, 119; founder of the Royal Exchange, 119; portrait, 119 Grey, Richard de, founds a Carmelite Priory, 145 Grose, F., "Antiquities of England and Wales," 77 _note_ Grove Court, 157 Guildford, 3, 51, 57, 72; fair at, 58 Gurdon, Adam de, 45, 51 Hackhurst Downs, 94 Halfpenny Lane, 77 Halling, Lower, 142; Upper, 142 Hampshire, 20 Harbledown, 179, 186; leper-house, 186; relic in, 187; royal visitors, 198; first sight of Canterbury Cathedral from, 191 Harrietsham, 160; church, monuments in, 161 Hastings, 168; Battle of, 161 Headbourne Worthy, 31; derivation of the name, 33; church, 33 _Helix pomatia_, 18 Hengist, proclaimed the first king of Kent, 146 Henry I., King, 29, 41 Henry II., King, his penance at Becket's tomb, 4, 14, 206; visit to the leper-house at Harbledown, 188 Henry III., King, 16, 24, 52, 57, 206 Henry IV., King, monument of, 208 Henry V., King, 211 Henry VI., King, 109, 161 Henry VII., King, 158; his visit to Charing, 171 Henry VIII., King, 109, 129, 130; portrait of, 131; visit to Charing, 171 Herault, Isaac, 94 Hethe, Bishop Hamo de, 142 Hindhead, 72, 76, 80, 107 Hog's Back, 54, 57, 63, 76 Holbein, Hans, 66 Holland, Mary Sybilla, 179 Hollingbourne, 152, 153; height of, 138; history, 153; church, monuments in the, 158; manor-house, 154; traditions, 154 Holm Castle, 104. _See_ Reigate Holmbury, 90 Holmesdale, valley of, 104 Honywood, Anthony, 165 Honywood, Dame Mary, 165 Horn Hatch, 101 Horne, Robert, Bishop of Winchester, letter from, 68 Hutton, W. H., "Thomas Becket," 9 _note_ Hyde, Abbey of, 28; history, 29; ruins, 30; desecration of tombs, 30 Ightham House, 136 Isabel, Queen, her reception at Chilham, 183 Islip, Simon, 130, 134 Itchen Abbas, 35, 37 Itchen river, 28, 29, 39; valley, 35 Itchen Stoke, 37 James I., King, 65; his visit to Loseley, 66; portrait, 66 James, Capt. E. Renouard, "Notes on the Pilgrims' Way in West Surrey," 101 _note_ John, King, 38, 73, 178; legend of, 82; coronation, 206 John, King of France, 188 Johnson, Mrs. Hester, 56 Jones, Sir Inigo, 121, 132 Josse, St., shrine of, 29 Julaber's grave, 183 Katherine's, St., Chapel, 69, 71; Hill, fair at, 59 Kemsing, 132; church and well, 132 Ken, Morris, 50 Kent, Aldric, king of, 129 Kent, John, brass to, 33 Kent, Pilgrims' Way through, 126 Kingsworthy, 33 Kitchin, Dean, on the fair at St. Giles' Hill, 32, 40 Kits Coty House, 145 Knight, Sir Richard, his monument in Chawton Church, 46 Knockholt down, height of, 138 Laberius, Julius, 183 Lambarde, W., 190; at Otford, 132 Lanfranc, Archbishop, 153, 169, 176; founds a lazar-house at Harbledown, 186 Langton, Stephen, Archbishop, 16 Leeds Castle, 154, 157 Leith Hill, 107 Leland, J., 170, 184, 195, 201 Len river, 161 Lenham, 161; church, 162-165; tithe barns, 165 Lennard, John, his monument, 122 Lennard, Richard, Lord Dacre, 121 Leveson, Sir John, quarterings of, 143 Leveson-Gower, Mr., 100, 119 Leyborne, Juliana de, 161, 178 Limnerslease, 69 Limpsfield Lodge Farm, 117 Littleton Cross, shrine of, 69 Long Beech Woods, 175 Loseley manor, 64; royal visitors, 66; portraits, 67; royal warrants, 67; letters, 68 Louis VII., King of France, 212 Louis VIII., King of France, 72, 105 Lucy, Bishop Godfrey, 25; rebuilds the town of Alresford, 38 Lyall, Sir Alfred, 180; his verses, 180; death, 180 Maidstone, 143 Marden Park, 116 Martha's, St., Hill, 80; chapel, 70, 76; view from, 76 Martyr's Hill, 76 Martyrsworthy, 34 Massilia, 4 Medway river, 140, 142; valley, 137, 138 Mercia, Cenulph, King of, 169 Mercia, Offa, King of, 129, 169 Meredith, G., "Diana of the Crossways," 91 _note_ Merstham, 108, 112; church, 113 Miller, Sir Hubert, 52 Milton, John, his line on the River Mole, 95 Mole river, 95, 99; valley, 94 Monks' Hatch, 69 Monks' Walk, Winchester, 31, 33 Monson, Lord, 109, 111 Moor Park, 55 More, Antonio, 119 More, Sir Christopher, 64 More, Sir William, 64 Morley, Bishop, 53 Morne Hill, 25 Morton, Cardinal, his buildings at Charing, 170 Moyle, Sir Thomas, Speaker of the House of Commons, 177 Mytens, D., his portraits, 66 Newark Hospital, 143; Priory, 77 Newcourt, Geoffery de, 174 Newcourt manor, 174 Newlands Corner, 80, 82 Nore, the, 138 Nore Hill, 46 Norfolk, Duke of, 53 North Downs, 107, 118 Nowell, Alexander, Dean of St. Paul's, letter from, 68 Nuns' Walk, Winchester, 31 Odo of Bayeux, 161 Otford, 126; manor-house, 129; battles at, 129; the Bull Inn, 131; legends, 131 Oxted, 117 Paddlesworth or Paulsford, 138 Palmer, Mr., his treatise on "Three Surrey Churches," vi Palmers Wood, 19, 116 Paternoster Lane, 19, 98 St. Paul's Cathedral, 76 Peckham, John, the Franciscan Archbishop, 170 Penenden Heath, 150; memorable assembly held at, 150 Pett Place, 174 Pette-juxta-Charing, 174 Pilgrims to Canterbury, routes taken by, 3-6, 20, 28; number of, 12, 16-18, 193, 198; traces of, 18, 58; characteristics, 60 Pilgrims' Chapel, 98 Pilgrims' Ferry, 19, 74 Pilgrims' House, 138 Pilgrims' Lodge, 19, 120 Pilgrims' Place, 43 Plantagenet, Richard, his death at Eastwell, 177 Plantagenet's Well, 177 Pray Meadows, 98 Puttenham, 58; fair at, 59; Heath, 63 Quarry Hangers, 114 Quarry Hills, 101, 168 Ranmore Common, 98 Redhill, 96 Reigate, 99, 103; chapels, 104; hill, 107; park, 106 Richard Coeur de Lion, his return from the Holy Land, 171; at Harbledown, 188; Canterbury, 206 Richard III., King, 177 Ripley, 77 Robbers' or Roamers Moor, 58 Robertson, T. C., "Materials for the History of Archbishop Becket," 12 _note_ Rochester, 3, 141 Romney Marsh, 168 Rood, the miraculous, or winking image, 148 Ropley, 43 Rotherfield Park, 43 Rumbold, St., the image of, 147 Rupibus, Peter de, 45 Rutupine, Port, 4 Salisbury, John of, Bishop of Chartres, 12 Saltwood Castle, 9 Sandwich Haven, 3, 4, 73 Sandy Lane, 69 Scott, Sir Walter, on the death of Jane Austen, 50 Seale, 58; church, 59 Selborne, 44 Sellyng, Prior William, 154, 203 Sesto, Cesare da, 111 Sevenoaks, 107 Shalford, 74; fair at, 59, 74; park, 75 Shere, 88; church, 87 Shoelands, manor-house of, 58 Shooters' Hill, 138 Shrewsbury, Francis, Earl of, 37 Shrewsbury, Lady, 36 Shrewsbury, Roger de Montgomery, Earl of, 64 Silchester, 28 Silent Pool, 82; legend of, 82 Sittingbourne, 3 Snails, or _Helix pomatia_, 18 Snodland, limestone works, 137, 140 Snowden-Ward, Mr. H., "The Canterbury Pilgrimages," vi Somers, Earl, 106 Somerset, Lady Henry, 106 South Downs, 76 South Leith Hill, 76 Southampton, 3, 20, 35 Spenser, Edmund, his lines on the Mole, 95 Stane Street, 97 Stanhope, Charles, Earl, 122 Stanhope, General, 121 Stanhope, Lady Frederica, effigy of, 124 Stanhope, Lady Hester, 122 Stanhope, James, Earl, monument to, 124 Stanley, Dean, 5; extract from his account of the Canterbury pilgrimage, 6; on the characteristics of pilgrims, 60 Stede, Sir William, monument to, 161 Stede Hill, 160 Stour river, 162, 196; valley, 182, 185 Strangers' Hall, Winchester, 26 Stratford, Archbishop, 196, 197; at Charing, 170 Sudbury, Simon of, 193 Surrenden Dering, 168 Sussex Downs, 168 Swift, J., 56 Swithun, St., Bishop of Winchester, 3; his shrine, 21; removal of his bones, 22; miracles wrought, 22; number of pilgrims to his shrine, 25 Tatsfield church, 120 Temple, Sir William, 56 Thames river, 126; valley, 76, 138 Thomas', St., Hill, 195; Hospital, 196; Well, 117 Thurnham, 152 Tichborne, Isabella, 41 Tichborne, Sir Roger, 41 Tichborne Park, 41; legend of the Dole, 41-43 Tillingbourne stream, 87 Titsey Park, 117; discovery of Roman remains at, 100; Place, 117 Trottescliffe (Trosley), 138 Tunbridge Wells, 107 Tupper, Martin, 82 Tyting's Farm, 77 Vandyck, A., portrait by, 83 Vane, Sir Harry, 136 Vigo Inn, 138 Vinci, Leonardo da, iii Walkelin, Bishop, his church, 25 Walter, Archbishop Hubert, 196, 206 Wanborough, 59; church, 60 War Camp or Cardinal's Cap, 114 Warham, Archbishop, 149, 171, 208 Warrenne, William of, 104 Watling Street, 141, 186 Watts, George Frederic, 69 Wauncey, Richard de, 69 Waverley Abbey, 56, 59 Waynflete, Bishop William of, 45, 78 Wen, the, 5 Wessex, 21 Westerham, 121 Westhumble Lane, 98 Weston Wood, 80 Westwell, 175; church, 175; manor, 176 Wey, river, 51, 57, 72, 75 White, Gilbert, his house at Selborne, 44 White Hill Downs, 114 Whiteway End, 57 Whitgift, Archbishop, 196 Whorne Place, 142 Wibert, Prior, 203 Wickens, manor-house, 172 Wilberforce, Samuel, Bishop of Winchester, place of his death, 90 William III., King, 56, 106 William, King of Scotland, at Canterbury, 206 Winchelsea, Archbishop, 130, 164; his enthronement, 194; death, 194; statutes, 201 Winchester, 3, 20; the shrine of St. Swithun, 21; number of churches and chapels, 22; buildings, 24; number of pilgrims, 25; Nuns' Walk, 31; St. Giles' Hill, fair at, 31 Winders' Hill, 116 Windsor Castle, 76 Wolsey, Cardinal, 149 Wolvesey, castle of, 24, 29 Wotton, 90 Wotton, Sir Henry, 154 Wren, Christopher, 36 Wriothesley, Thomas, his treatment of the Abbey of Hyde, 29 Wrotham, 132; church, 135; hill, 135; manor-house, 134; palace, 136 Wulfstan, on the removal of St. Swithun's bones, 22 Wykeham, William of, 24, 25, 45 Wye, the, 184 Yaldham, manor of, 136 Yew trees, 6, 82, 84, 94, 99, 108, 126 PRINTED BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., LONDON AND AYLESBURY, ENGLAND. FOOTNOTES: [1] W. H. Hutton, "Thomas Becket," p. 249. [2] E. Abbott, "St. Thomas of Canterbury," i. 223. [3] T. C. Robertson, "Materials for the History of Archbishop Becket," ii. 47, iv. 145. [4] _Op. cit._ p. 322. [5] "Anonymus Lambethiensis. Materials," ii. 140. [6] "Thomas Saga," ii. 202. [7] Hyde Bourne. [8] Grose, "Antiquities of England and Wales," v. 110. [9] Meredith's novel, "Diana of the Crossways," takes its name from this farm. [10] Captain E. Renouard James, whose "Notes on the Pilgrims' Way in West Surrey" will be found to supply much valuable local information. (London, Edward Stanford, 1871.) * * * * * Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: ten gold growns=> ten gold crowns {pg 188} Alresford, 35, 38; New, cloth frade at, 39;=> Alresford, 35, 38; New, cloth trade at, 39; {pg 217}