Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and DiaryAddison, Daniel Dulany
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Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary
Addison, Daniel Dulany
Authors, American -- 19th century -- Biography; Larcom, Lucy, 1824-1893
Were all day Thursday riding through the State of Maryland. Saw flowers
and trees in blossom: delightful country, quite hilly, and well
watered. Followed the course of the Potomac a long way, and at noon
stopped at Harper’s Ferry, a wild-looking place, though I think not so
romantic as a place we passed just before it, where the waters curve in
gentle flow from between two bold hills. Now saw the mountains around
Cumberland. At Cumberland, were squeezed into a stage, to cross the
Alleghenies. Oh, what misery did we not endure that night! Nine, and
a baby, in the little stage! I tried to reconcile myself to my fate,
but was so cross if anybody spoke to me! When we got out of the stage
in the morning I felt more like a snake crawling from a heap of rocks
than anything else. We stretched ourselves, and took breakfast, such
as we could get, at a poor-looking tavern. Then into the stage again,
and over the mountains to Brownsville; never imagined mountains could
be so high, when we were riding on mountains all the time. Reached
Brownsville about twelve,--a dingy place down among the hills. Took
a little walk here. Embarked for Pittsburgh; was glad enough to stow
myself away into a berth and rest. Didn’t trouble the Monongahela with
a glance after the boat started, for I was “used up.” Found ourselves
at Pittsburgh in the morning, a dirty city indeed. Everything black and
smoky. Should think the sun would refuse to shine upon it.
Friday noon. Here we take another boat--the “Clipper”--the prettiest
one I have seen yet. Splendidly furnished, neat, comfortable berths,
and all we could ask for. The Ohio is a beautiful stream. I sit in
my state-room with the door open, “taking notes.” I am on the Ohio
side; the banks are steep,--now and then we pass a little town. We
have stopped at one, now; men and boys are looking down on us from a
sand-bank far above our heads. Why the people chose a sand-bank, when
they might have had a delightful situation almost anywhere, I wonder
much! Oh, dear! nothing looks like home! but I must not think of that,
now.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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