In this third part, we learn about some of the joys — and the tribulations — of travel by stage. Once again, the information is from the Maryland Geological Survey (1899).

One advantage certainly was afforded by the vehicles of the last century—time for observation. In such a conveyance as has been described [in yesterday’s post], one might travel at the rate of four or five miles in fine summer weather, but in winter often not more than one mile an hour could be made. Yet time spent in this manner was certainly not disagreeably employed, for many picturesque scenes would present themselves to the traveler. Seated in such a conveyance, he might be entertained as was one gentleman in his journey through Maryland, on a Sunday morning a century ago [that would be around 1799], at the sight of girls riding to the parish church nearby, escorted by a boy perched behind one of the fair equestriennes, for whom he jumped down every few minutes to open the numerous gates that barred the road, and then nimbly resumed his seat without any detention of the party. On a working day one might meet a long procession of horses, mules, or, more probably, oxen, dragging hogsheads of tobacco by pivots driven into each end and shafts attached.*

At another turn in the road one might barely escape collision with a monstrous family coach, escorted by gorgeously liveried outriders, and proceeding on its journey with more style than comfort to its occupants. Again, there is need to pull up sharply in order to yield the road to the more rapid wagon or “coachee” which has overtaken the coach. Numbers of carts are passing along, and farm-wagons, with high-ribbed bows covered with canvas, to shield the farmer from the sun by day and the dews by night. Nearer Baltimore Town one meets large gangs of “wheelbarrow men,” those convicts who, before the institution of the penitentiary system, were condemned to labor upon the highways. Accompanying each group is an overseer, wearing side-arms and often carrying a musket. Here and there are cabins in which the convicts at night are lodged or imprisoned.**

The driver is a steady man with a wonderful knack of avoiding the many stumps and large trunks of trees that fill the road. He guides his horses, usually named after the prominent politicians of the day, more by the different noises he makes than by the use of the reins. Stopping over night at one of the wayside inns one may get a bed for a quarter of a dollar the night. It will not do to appear too anxious about accommodations, for the host, in an injured tone, informs one gentleman that he need give himself no trouble on that score, because no less than eleven beds may be found in one of his rooms. For breakfast or supper one pays half a dollar; for dinner, one dollar. On the bill-of-fare may be found tea, coffee, fish, beefsteak, mutton-chops, sausages, eggs, several kinds of bread and butter, “cakes of buckwheat, &c.” ***

* These stories were taken from Mr. Sutcliff’s Travels in some parts of North America in the Years 1804, 1805 and 1806, which was published in Philadelphia in 1812.

** This tale is taken from M.E. Tyson’s book, A Brief Account of the Settlement of Ellicott’s Mills. (I could not find the book’s publication date.)

*** Most of this description was taken from Volume I of Richard Parkinson’s Tour in America in 1798, 1799 and 1800, although the anecdote about the innkeeper with eleven beds to a room is from Travels through the States of North America during the years 1795, 1796 and 1797 (by Isaac Weld, Jr., published in London in 1799).