Travel diaries and journals hold a particular fascination for me. I marvel at the amazing bravery, almost audacity, of people who undertake difficult journeys into unfamiliar territory, enduring the vagaries of the weather and the uncertainty of procuring lodging for the night and yet finding time to record the beauties of nature and comment on the people they meet along the way.

Sally Anderson Hastings did not make a very long journey: from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, to Washington County in the same state, a distance of some 250 miles. Her party included her brother and his wife, her sister Rebecca, her husband, and their children, and perhaps a servant or slave. Rebecca was in “a declining state of health.” They left on October 7, 1800, and arrived at their destination in Cross Creek Township, where her sister’s husband had purchased a farm, on October 31. Sally had originally intended her remarks on “our Perigrination westward” for her mother but later was prevailed upon to have them published. She not only gives details of the journey she also philosophizes a good deal, periodically inserting poems of her own making. My interest in her observations has been further piqued by the fact that my brother lives in that neck of the woods. Following the party’s progress, here are several entries that strike me as interesting for one reason or another. They are spread over three posts.

Oct. 7. Our mode of traveling is in a Wagon; a kind of Conveyance entirely new to us all. . . .

October 8. This morning we crossed the Susquehanna; and such is my fear of venturing into a Ferry-boat, that it required a full quarter of an hour’s Reasoning to convince me [to board].
Cumberland county. . . . a fine champaign Country; in the highest state of cultivation; here and there interspersed with decent Farm-houses; while the adjacent Lands appear in all the pride of Autumnal Glory. . . . the prospect is grand, and bounded by the bending skies, or terminated by the interference of surrounding mountains; which rise like smoky columns, and lose their azure summit amidst the fleeting clouds. . . .

October 9. Last night we enjoyed the Blessings of a comfortable Supper, excellent Lodging, and a calm refreshing Sleep. . . . Carlisle, this Town is beautifully situated, and seems very populous. . . . I would here remark, Madam, that it is one of the Misfortunes of Travellers, that their Situation excludes them, in a great measure, from the Society of those who are generally styled “the better;” and consequently, their Observations are, for the most part, confined to the Populace. . . .

October 10. Last night . . . I had the Happiness to be introduced to a person of Intelligence and Respectability. . . . His agreeable Conversaton served as a Talisman, both to restore my spirits. and reduce my temper. . . .
You, Madam, whom I believe to be so Adept in the science of Physiognomy, will scarce credit the Influence which a Countenance possess over a whimsical Being like myself; who consider the Face as a Title-page, and every variation of the Features, an Index, to the human Heart.
Our Landlord was one of those inoffensive Creatures, whose Character I shall give you a sketch of, in the following lines:

They eat, they sleep, the walk about;
Go here and there, and in and out;
Not neither think, contrive, nor do,
Things good, or bad, or old, or new.
Not wise of speech, of heart, or head;
Nor quite a Fool, alive, nor dead;
Who purpose just to live and die;
But care not how, nor when, nor why.

October 11. Seated in a neat little Breakfast-parlor, in the pleasant Village of Strasburg, I am amusing myself, by observing the military Evolutions of a Brigade of well-disciplined Soldiers. This appears to me, an Exercise better calculated to display the manly graces of a finely-proportioned Figure, than the most approved Country-dance I ever saw. In its nature, it seems to combine so much of the Elegant and Useful, that I presume there are few Amusements, in which a Gentleman can engage, that offer him so
fair an Opportunity of complimenting his Understanding.
Here we are presented with a striking Contrast. On one hand lies a fine level Country, smooth as the unruffled face of Heaven, in all the pride of luxurious Vegetation. On the other, clad in awful sublimity and majestic grandeur, rise the stupendous Mountains; which heave their forest-crowned summits to the clouds. . . .
To ascend these Mountains on foot (and not one of us will ride over them) is a task truly arduous. To descend them, is by no means less difficult; as they are so exceedingly stony, that one can scarce get stable footing, for one yard in a place. We are all fatigued, especially the Children; and my Sister is almost exhausted. To travel through this Region, Madam, demands the exercise of Fortitude; and those who are Strangers to this Virtue, will here learn how to appreciate its value.

Sally Hastings certainly possesses a fair share of fortitude. Journey on with her in the next post.

Read Sally Hastings diary online HERE.

I return regularly to peruse Janet Schaw’s book Journal of a Lady of Quality in which she describes her voyage from Scotland to the American colonies via the West Indies in late October of 1774. (Other posts by Schaw can be found here, here, and here.) With her on the Jamaica Packet, a small vessel, were her brother Alexander and three young relatives, whom she was escorting to their father John Rutherfurd in North Carolina. In attendance were Schaw’s maid, Mrs. Mary Miller, and her brother’s East Indian servant, Robert. Schaw’s vivid descriptions of life on board ship are a necessary reminder of how perilous journeys across the Atlantic were at that time. In this excerpt she describes the party’s living quarters.

Our Bed chamber, which is dignified with the title of State Room, is about five foot wide and six long; on one side is a bed fitted up for Miss Rutherfurd [Fanny, in her late teens] and on the opposite side one for me. Poor Fanny’s is so very narrow, that she is forced to be tied in, or as the Sea term is lashed in, to prevent her falling over. On the floor below us lies . . . Mrs Miller. As she has the breadth of both our Beds and excellent Bedding, I think she has got a most envyable berth, but this is far from her opinion, and she has done nothing but grumble about her accommodation. . . .

My brother, who was sadly fatigued, had got into his Cott, which swings from the roof of the Cabin; our two little men [the Rutherfurd boys, eleven and nine] were fast asleep in a bed just below him, when we were informed from the Deck that they were going to weigh anchor. Every body that was able, got up to see this first grand operation. My Brother descended from his Cot, the boys sprung out of bed, all hands were on Deck, hurry, bustle, noise, and confusion raged thro’ our wooden kingdom, yet it was surprizing how soon every thing was reduced to order. In little more than a quarter of an hour, all was over, the watch was set, and nothing to be heard, but the sound of the man’s feet moving regularly backwards and forwards at the helm, and the crowing of a Cock that the noise had waked in the Hen Coop. My Brother . . . informed us in passing our state room, that we were now underway . . . He then gave poor Fanny some Saline drops to settle her stomach, which had felt the very first motion of the ship. . . . As yet I am very well, and hope I will not be much hurt, tho’ I must expect a little touch as well as others. My Brother now mounted into his Cot, the boys got to bed, we shut up our half door, and in a few moments, we were all again in the arms of Sleep.

I like being reminded that chickens (among other creatures) were on board to provide food for passengers and crew. Can you imagine anyone being given saline drops to settle one’s stomach! I nearly gag at the thought. Most of all I love Schaw’s phrase for the ship: “our wooden kingdom.”

The above passage can be found on page 247 of In the Words of Women. Janet Schaw’s Journal can be read online HERE.

Back to Dr. Buchan, one more time. In his book Domestic Medicine (see previous posts here and here and here) he has a great deal to say about his favorite subject—children. Most of the advice on their care and upbringing seems spot on. Here are some recommendations.

Children discover an early inclination to chew whatever is put into their hands. Parents observe the inclination, but generally mistake the object. Instead of giving the child something which may at once exercise its gums and afford it nourishment, they commonly put into its hands a piece of hard metal, or impenetrable coral. A crust of bread is the best gum stick. . . .

It is soon enough to allow children animal food when they have got teeth to eat it. They should never taste it until after they are weaned, and even then they ought to use it sparingly . . . . a due mixture of animal and vegetable food as most proper for children.

Few things prove more hurtful to infants, than the common method of sweetening their food. It entices them to take more than they ought to do, which makes them grow fat and bloated. It is pretty certain, if most food of children were quite plain, that they would never take more than enough. Their excesses are entirely due to nurses. If a child be gorged with food at all hours, and enticed to take it, by making it sweet and agreeable to the palate, is it any wonder that such a child should in time be induced to crave more food than it ought to have.

It was common during the 18th century and beyond to use a kind of leash, called “leading strings”, for children who were beginning to walk. It was intended to help them stay upright but also to prevent them from endangering themselves by going where they should not, into a fireplace, for example. Buchan disapproved of their use.

When children begin to walk, the safest and best method of leading them about, is by the hands. The common way of swinging them in leading-strings fixed to their backs, has several bad consequences. I makes them throw their bodies forward, and press with their whole weight upon the stomach and breast; by this means the breathing is obstructed, the breast flattened, and the bowels compressed . . . .

One very common error or parents, by which they hurt the constitutions of their children, is the sending them too young to school. This is often done solely to prevent trouble. When the child is in school, he needs no keeper. Thus the schoolmaster is made the nurse; and the poor child is fixed to a seat seven or eight hours a day, which time ought to be spent in exercise and diversions. Sitting so long cannot fail to produce the worst effects upon the body; nor is the mind less injured. Early application weakens the faculties, and often fixes in the mind an aversion to books, which continues for life.

A child never continues to cry long without some cause, which might always be discovered by proper attention; and the nurse who can hear an infant cry till it has almost spent itself, without endeavoring to please it, must be cruel indeed, and is unworthy to be intrusted with the care of an human creature.

Allowing children to continue long wet, is another very pernicious custom of indolent nurses. This is not only disagreeable, but it galls and frets the infant . . . .

I found the following passages among the most interesting: Buchan advocating state assistance to poor families to help them care for their children.

To take care of their children, is the most useful business in which even the poor can be employed: but, alas! it is not always in their power. Poverty often obliges them to neglect their offspring, in order to procure the necessaries of life. When this is the case, it becomes the interest as well as the duty of the public to assist them. Ten thousand times more benefit would accrue to the State, by enabling the poor to bring up their own children, than from all the hospitals than ever can be erected for that purpose.

In a footnote Buchan notes:

A small premium given annually to each poor family, for every child they have alive at the year’s end, would save more infant lives than if the whole revenue of the crown were expended on hospitals for this purpose. This would make the poor esteem fertility a blessing; whereas many of them think it the greatest curse that can befal them; and in place of wishing their children to live, so far does poverty get the better of natural affection, that they are often very happy when they die.

Domestic Medicine can be read ONLINE. The excerpts in this post are taken from pages 17, 18, 24, 25, and 35. Image@williamsburgrose.

Dr. William Buchan, writing in his book Domestic Medicine (see previous posts here and here), has all sorts of practical advice for women who are pregnant. This is the remark I liked best.

Every women with child ought to be kept cheerful and easy in her mind. Her appetites, even though depraved, ought to be indulged as far as prudence will permit.

Buchan doesn’t think much of midwives. In a footnote this is what he has to say.

Though the management of women in child-bed has been practiced as an employment since the earliest accounts of time; yet it is still in most countries on a very bad footing. Few women think of following this employment till they are reduced to the necessity of doing it for bread. Hence not one in a hundred of them have any education, or proper knowledge of their business. It is true, that Nature, if left to herself, will generally expel the foetus; but it is equally true, that most women in child-bed require to be managed with skill and attention, and that they are often hurt by the superstitious prejudices of ignorant and officious midwives. The mischief done in this way is much greater than is generally imagined most of which might be prevented by allowing no women to practice midwifery but such as are properly qualified. Were due attention paid to this, it would not only be the means of saving many lives, but would prevent the necessity of employing men in this indelicate and disagreeable branch of medicine, which is, on many accounts, more proper for the other sex.

And in another footnote he deplores the practice of women—friends, relatives, neighbors—gathering to assist in and psychologically support a woman about to give birth.

We cannot help taking notice of that ridiculous custom which still prevails . . . of collecting a number of women together upon such occasions. These, instead of being useful, serve only to crowd the house, and obstruct the necessary attendants. Besides, they hurt the patient with their noise; and often, by their untimely and impertinent advice, do much mischief.

Buchan’s most vehement criticism is reserved for women who seek abortions and those who provide them.

Every mother who procures an abortion does it at the hazard of her life; yet there are not a few who run this risk merely to prevent the trouble of bearing and bringing up children. It is surely a most unnatural crime, and cannot, even in the most abandoned, be viewed without horror; but in the decent matron, it is still more unpardonable.—Those wretches who daily advertise their assistance to women in this business, deserve, in my opinion, the most severe of all human punishments.

Domestic Medicine can be read ONLINE. The excerpts in this post are taken from pages 531-32 and 534-35.

Dr. William Buchan’s special interest was the care of children; the first chapter in his book Domestic Medicine (see previous post) is devoted to children. Here are some comments I found particularly interesting.

Nothing can be more preposterous than a mother who thinks it below her to take care of her own child, or who is so ignorant as not to know what is proper to be done for it. . . . Every mother who can, ought certainly perform so tender and agreeable an office [as suckling their children]. . . . A mother who abandons the fruit of her womb, as soon as it is born, to the sole care on an hireling, hardly deserves the name. . . . Were the time that is generally spent by females in the acquisition of trifling accomplishments, employed in learning how to bring up their children; how to dress them so as not to hurt, cramp, or confine their motions; how to feed them with wholesome and nourishing food; how to exercise their tender bodies, so as best to promote their growth and strength: where these made the objects of female instruction, mankind would derive the greatest advantages from it.

But the mother is not the only person concerned in the management of children. The father has an equal interest in their welfare, and ought to assist in every thing that respects either the improvement of the body or mind. It is pity that the men should be so inattentive to this matter. . . . [M]en generally keep at such a distance from even the smallest acquaintance with the affairs of the nursery, that many would reckon it an affront, were they supposed to know any thing of them. . . .

Buchan takes physicians of his time to task for not devoting their attention to the care of children and the treatment of diseases that afflict them. His criticism of social priorities, if not physicians themselves, could have been written today.

What labour and expence are daily bestowed to prop an old tottering carcase for a few years, while thousands of those who might be useful in life, perish without being regarded.

Domestic Medicine can be read ONLINE. The excerpts in this post are taken from pages 2-6.