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The heart of the Old Key Stone State

From the day of his graduation at Wesleyan University in August 1852, and for the next year and a half, James S. Griffing traveled throughout the Midwestern states earning an income selling maps for the Ensign & Thayer Map Company of New York City. Of the letters that survive between James and his sweetheart, Augusta Goodrich, most are those he sent to her from various points in the Midwest, which she intuitively and carefully packed away for posterity. The letters, read in sequence, paint a portrait of mid-nineteenth century America through the eyes and ears of a traveler -- not perhaps with the literary skill of a Crevecoeur or the "back-woodsy" humor of a Samuel Clemens, but nonetheless revealing and entertaining. The sights and sounds of the rural and urban-scapes recorded in James' letters require no embellishment and are reproduced here and in the next two chapters with little editing.

Lock Haven, [Pennsylvania]
September 30, 1852

Dearest Augusta,

Last Friday [September 24, 1852], I took from the [Post] Office at Williamsport [Pennsylvania] your ever-welcome epistle. Owing to a detention down in Chester, Lancaster, and Dauphin Counties, I did not arrive here [as] soon as I anticipated and the result was that upon my arrival at Williamsport, I found a good bundle of letters as I had ordered all my letters to that place for several weeks back. Yet, after all, I was very sorry not to get a letter from home, which I was surely expecting. I had written two letters home, one containing some money, and when in New York [City], had sent my trunk containing some things I valued highly by express and was very anxious to hear from them all. But no letter came and I am afraid that all is not right. Yet with patience, I wait hoping soon to be favored with a good long letter. I suppose our people thought that if I came as near home as Williamsport, I might come up and see them, and if they did not write me that I would surely come. But I could not well go at that time without some sacrifice of time and money, both of which are of considerable value to me at the present. However, I should have gone if there had been a direct conveyance there from Williamsport. But I will wait until some time in November when I hope to make them a good visit. So you can judge how welcome your letter was as it not only came from yourself, but brought the only news I received from Owego. I am sorry that I have no news from there to give you in return. How in the brief time and under the unfavorable circumstances that I write, anything may be said that will in the least interest you, I hardly know.

Truly delightful indeed I find it traveling about over the ever-changing scenery of Pennsylvania. No pen of mine can begin to depict in all its real beauty and sublimity, the surpassing loveliness of the scenery that falls upon my eye day after day. The pleasing contrast presented by the lofty mountaintop reaching far into the clouds and long rolling bottomlands defying the utmost stretch of vision, are objects that you often see. And then to think of going over those mountain heights in a public conveyance with sometimes a very pleasant company in attendance (with others that are not so pleasant) affords a treat that if many New Englanders knew of the luxury, they would (it seems) often leave their old long trodden grounds about their homes and come and enjoy one of these most soul-elevating and heart-gladdening excursions. Yet Oh, Augusta, could I only have your presence in attendance, I know that all the scenery would have a still lovelier charm. I know that so far as earthly enjoyment is concerned, I should be placed somewhere near the very climax. Yet ten thousand thanks to our kind Father in Heaven that he permits each of us daily to share so very largely in his unnumbered mercies.

You ask how I succeed in my engagement. I have only today [done] quite as well as I could possibly anticipate. I think for the first two months, over and above all my expenses, I shall clear over sixty dollars. I have entered into a contract [with the Ensign & Thayer Map Company of New York City] to sell ten thousand maps. By doing so, I get them twenty-five percent discount cheaper than otherwise, which gives a very good opportunity for making money if I am only industrious. Yet I am fearful that it will take me later next year to fulfill my engagements than I shall care about working. However, I shall try and get through just as soon as I can.

My health continues very good as yet although I have been among a great deal of sickness, some of which was contagious, but have escaped as yet. I expect to travel a part of the winter in Ohio, and in the spring in the cities of the New England States. I shall travel in this state until winter. Cannot tell exactly when I shall visit Owego but hope to about the last of November. Perhaps I may sooner.

When I was passing through Muncy, Pennsylvania, the other day, I came across Phoebe Wooster of East Owego, near Mr. Lamont’s. She was teaching a select school and boarding with Mr. Levi Green, brother to Watrous and Elijah. Was right glad to see them.

1850 Census Record from Muncy Borough, Lycoming County, Pennsylvania
"Phibi Wooster" (age 22) was living with the Levi Green family

Found at Williamsport Dr. Joshua Green, who married Sabrina Hill, oldest daughter of Harvey. They are very pleasantly located [and] have a fine family of three daughters. Their second one, Miss Helen, had just graduated at Dickinson Seminary and appeared like a very fine young lady. The other girls are quite accomplished. [1]

[While at Williamsport,] we spent one evening in the family of Gen. William F. Packer, U. S. Senator, and I must confess that it did seem real pleasant to find friends and those so very agreeable and pleasant where I was expecting strangers. And if beauty is to be judged by the symmetry of external features, I must say that two daughters of Gen. Packer’s are as handsome as any damsels I have seen in Pennsylvania, with but one exception. [2]

 
William Fisher Packer (1807-1870)

At Jersey Shore [Lycoming County, Pennsylvania], I found Lucius Muir, who is engaged there in the Mercantile business and was but a short distance from Pine Creek where Jacob Brodhead was engaged with a number of men in getting cut shingle, but I did not have time to go and see him as he lived in a wild country and it would not be very profitable to travel there for my business.

You see I am now at Lock Haven. There is to be a large political meeting here today and already in the store where I am trying to write many men have come in and are talking so excitedly upon the great difference between tweedle dum and tweedle dee [Franklin Pierce and Winfield Scott] that I can hardly tell what to write or what I am writing. Besides, I suppose that it will be for my interest to go out among them and endeavor to convince them of the importance of supplying their household well with maps. So you will of course pardon brevity.

My chum Walton is well pleased with his location in the Seminary [of the Eastern Maine Conference of the Methodist Church] at Bucksport, Maine.

Please write me the earliest opportunity and direct to Erie, Erie County, Pennsylvania. I do not know how soon I may get there. If it is long, I may find time to write you again. I expect to go into Centre County next week to attend their County Fair and shall be at the State Fair in Lancaster about the middle of the month, after which I shall go west. And until I hear from you, believe me as ever, yours most truly. Remember me most kindly to Hancie [Abbey Dayton] and Diana and any others who may inquire. And oh when bowed in prayer at a throne of grace, leave at times a fervent wish that my life may be preserved and that I may ever remain a most faithful servant of Christ. – James 

Potter's Mills [Pennsylvania]
October 10, 1852

My Dearest Augusta,

The circumstances under which I write to you at this time are very different from those when I last addressed you. Then was I surrounded with bustle and life upon the morn of a political meeting, right in the midst of bursts of laughter and a profundity of gabble. Now I am seated in the parlor of a brick house owned and tenanted by an old Pennsylvania Dutch farmer upon a cold October Sabbath morning. And as the storm and distance will prevent my going to worship with these people, I concluded that I would again write to one whom I shall forever respect and cherish as my heart's warmest friend. Accordingly, I solicited the utensils for writing [and] a bottle of pale ink, a few sheets of fools cap [3] and a goose quill pen was handed me. Thinks I, well I can cut off the fools cap so as to make the sheet appear like better paper, [and] then I am confident that I can make a goose quill equal to any steel pen. And as for the ink, I shall try and distribute that so gracefully that its pale disposition will not be noticed. But Oh! When I came to try my pen knife, how were my imaginary prospects and hopes all baffled. And as I cannot improve in one respect, I will endeavor to keep good the proportion so that I think you can not now say that you never received a long letter from me. I purpose to send you a map one of these days upon which will be marked my Pennsylvania journeyings. Then you will see that Potter's Mills -- the place where I am now -- is right in the heart of the old "Key Stone" State.

[I knew that Pennsylvania] abounded in portions of rich and delightful scenery, but I had never taught my imagination to expect anything so truly grand and fairly enchanting as has been exhibited to me within a few days back. And I trust that the sight has not proved unprofitable to me, but has led me to magnify and adore the excellency of that Being whose delight it is to enhance the happiness of his creatures in every possible way -- not only in carpeting the far stretching meadows with such variegated beauty and loveliness, sprinkling the long chains of mountains with such rainbow hues as then at present, but giving faculties just adapted to drink in the spirit of such scenery and powers to understand just from whence all these blessings emanate. Yesterday, I came over a ridge of the Alleghenies. Nothing especial attracted my attention until I reached the summit and commenced the descent when there burst upon my vision one of the very best views I have seen for a long time. Oh! it was delightful. It seemed that if I had a speaking trumpet, [4] I might easily converse with you at Hartford there away down in the blue valley. At my right and close under my feet, stretched Penn's Valley, covering a space of many miles and presenting a portion of country that appeared as if it would well requite the husbandman for all his toils. At my left, lay the Nittany Valley. Farther on lay Brush Valley, dotted with clusters of houses and, as I have since learned, possesses a soil wholly of limestone formation and, consequently, especially as good as the Genesee Valley of New York for [growing] wheat. Then away on farther in the deep, dim distance is the valley of Blue where I imagine your own beloved Hartford lies and where you are enjoying so pleasantly the wants of your dear Uncle [Elizur] and [his son] Jamie with a choice band of others whom an intimate acquaintance has taught you to love and respect.

Susquehanna Valley near Williamsport, Pennsylvania

Then far away to the southwest stretch several ranges of mountains lifting their dim ridges to the very horizon until they quite lose themselves in the deep blue sky. Oh, I thought, if Pennsylvania affords such delightful scenery, which is scarcely noticed or mentioned by travelers, what must that [scenery] be amid the Alpine glaciers of Switzerland or the Highlands, the Locks, [and] the ravines of Scotland, the praise and glory of which dwells upon every tongue that visits them.

Yet amidst many things afforded much pleasure and gratification, my eyes are daily brought to rest upon sights that are truly painful. There is much wickedness in the shape of dissipation, profanity, Sabbath breaking, gambling, and beastly drunkenness that the heart is often made sick and longs for some alleviating sight to comfort itself. And were it not that amidst it all, I find bands of faithful, devoted ones earnestly pledged to do all in their power to arrest the progress of sin, I should indeed tremble for the fate of the young. But in going about from place to place, I find well organized Sabbath Schools and other healthy Christian influences that are being brought to bear against this mighty tide of iniquity.  I suppose, as I have traveled in the region of the Canal, I have been right in the very worst places in the state. [5] The Lord knows they are bad enough. You can have but little idea how very destitute of the human feeling these beings become that work on these public works. [Many are] completely destitute of self respect, sympathy, affection, or kindness, or any of those graces that dignify the human character.

As an example, I will mention an instance that fell under my observation. It was at Selinsgrove [6], Union County, [Pennsylvania]. Did you ever ride in a Canal boat?  You know they are slowly towed with long ropes by poor, abused and jaded horses & mules. Well the hands of the boat of which I am to speak were a Father, [his] little son, and a hired man who acted as bowsman of the boat. They had stopped at the village to buy food for themselves & horses. Their boat was quite old but compared well with the horses who appeared as if they had most faithfully performed the duties of a long life and deserved to rest their old wearied bones where abundance of suitable tender food would be provided. The father was the very picture of an old Algerian (whom I subsequently learned in his younger days had so steeped and soaked himself in liquor that he came well nigh killing himself before he was twenty-five). The tale of himself and his suffering family which he narrated to me was truly enough to sicken the heart of the most indifferent and cause him to summon all the powers in waging an external war with all that will intoxicate at that age. However, whilst just upon the brink of death, he swore that he would never again pollute his lips with the accursed poison which oath he had kept until the present. And further (which was truly a redeeming trait in his character), he said he would never haul a drop [of liquor] on his boat for anybody nor employ a hand that used it. He said that he had often had large offers to haul liquor with his boat which he could make more [money] than with any other load, but he never would. Yet his former dissipation had robbed him of all the feelings of a father, as the [following] sequel will show.

After they had secured their [purchased] articles, the Father ordered the son to start up the team. He instantly sprang to obey his papa and, in order that they might get under way as soon as possible, he urged on the horses. The consequence was that the old towline broke to the boat and sank into the water. The father became enraged and called his little son to him. [The little boy] seemed to know what was coming and commenced exclaiming, "Oh dear Father -- I did not mean to!  I did not mean to Father!" [His father then bellowed,] "You little (here followed oaths) rascal!  I mean to teach you if I have to whip your very hide off. I have told you often enough!" He then took the large whip, doubled up the lash, and fell to beating the poor little innocent boy most unmercifully, following each blow with a string of oaths. Now this is not an isolated case cause [these terrible things] occur daily, making the life and heart sad and almost sick.

My health continues good. I sometimes think that it would be unpleasant to die so far away from home with none but strangers to close my eyes and hear my last words. Far would I prefer at that hour to rest my head in the lap of my beloved Mother and feel her kind hand coolly soothing my fevered brow as I sink into my long sleep -- or be where I could hear yourself whisper to me in that hour -- sure as we part, so sure shall we unite in that land where parting never comes.  Oh do forgive this letter. When I look at it, I feel ashamed to send -- and should not, did not I know the heart of her to whom it goes. The paper is so thin that it appears very bad. If you have written me at Erie, please write me there again to answer this. It will reach there [before I do]. Give the very latest news. I hope to go home before I go into the State of Ohio, but do not know as I shall. My kindest regards to any inquiries. Be careful when you open this and let no one see the outside. And whilst it externally appears so bad, remember that it comes from one who will ever prove true. Adieu for the present, -- James

Lewistown, Mifflin County, Pennsylvania
October 18, 1852

My Dear Augusta,

I know you will pardon the method of my writing and the manner my epistles will appear when traveling about. I suppose I might carry a pocket inkstand and have the implements for writing along with me yet it would be an article although sometimes convenient, yet much in my way, and I shall defer so at present at least believing you will be ready to make allowances for my many inconveniences. I wrote you a scrawl last Sabbath [from Potter’s Mills] but it actually appeared so bad when finished that I did not send it and have carried it in my pocket the whole week. But today in looking it over, I found the pale ink had turned black and it appeared quite intelligible, although unfit to send to any but some confidential forgiving, charitable friend. I hope you will not throw the eye of criticism very severely upon it but pass it by as a long letter more than a short.

And now Augusta, just how are you enjoying yourself? I would give considerable to be with you today, but this can not be [for] I know not how long. Does your health remain pretty good? And do you enjoy yourself well in your efforts to lead a Christian life? I am glad that you have around you so many efficient helpers to strengthen and encourage you through all the trials and difficulties that face the Christian… Oh I do hope my dear A. that whilst kind Heaven is so richly blessing you and giving you such confidence in the blessed provider, that you will in your supplications remember one the very circumstances of whose occupation expose him to such a multitude of trials and temptations and believe that under whatever circumstances in life his lot may be cast, that he will ever prove your faithful, -- James

Hartford [Connecticut]
October 1852

My dear [brother] Ralph,

I have intended to write you for a long time, but have not, and this is only an apology of a letter. I am glad to hear that you are in school and hope you are improving daily. I know you are.

How is the crossing on the bridge [over Owego Creek] since they are adding to the railroad? Do any of the boys about you go over to school with you?  And is Mr. [Charles R.] Coburn still in the school? I shall have to go in and see you when I go home. Do you go to the Sunday school? If you do not, I wish you would.

Our superintendent, Mr. [Collins] Stone, also a teacher in the Deaf & Dumb Asylum, has gone to Columbus, Ohio as President of an institution there. He has been in the school for years and will be very much missed. His place is now to be filled by a Mr. Curtis – a very fine man, and a teacher in the high school.

One of my little Sunday school boys is going to New Orleans soon to spend several months. That has been his home until lately.

I mean to write you sometime before I go home, but I would like to have you write to me.

-- Sister Augusta [Goodrich]

Dickinson Seminary was located in Williamsport, Lycoming County, Pennsylvania. It was started in 1848. By 1948, Dickinson Seminary had evolved into Lycoming College.  Dr. Green and his wife Sabrina had three daughters; Augusta G. (born 1831), Helen M. (born 1835), and Irene (born 1838). All three girls were enrolled as members of the first class at Williamsport Dickinson Seminary in September 1848. Helen was the only one of the three who is listed as graduating in 1852.

[Editor's note: The genealogical record of Dr. Green is conjectured but I believe it is highly probable that he was the son of Levi Green (b. 12 June 1775, Massachusetts; d. 5 June 1845, Owego, Tioga, NY) and Mary Montanye (b. 24 Jan 1781, New Jersey; d. 7 Feb 1858, Owego, Tioga, NY). This couple was reported to have had at least eight children between 1795 and 1820. According to James' letter, Dr. Green married Sabrina Hill, the eldest daughter of Harvey Hill and _____ Catlin, both of Tioga, Tioga, NY. Harvey Hill was the son of John Hill. John Hill was born in Guilford, CT in 1751, relocated to Richmond, Berkshire, MA, then to the village of Tioga, Tioga County, NY in 1793. About 1816, he moved again to Orwell, Bradford, PA -- a community served by Rev. John Griffing (James' father) in the 1820's. It is reported that he moved to Pennsylvania with all but two of his sons; these being Harvey and Chauncey. -- W. J. Griffing 1/23/07] 

[2]    At the time that James visited with the William F. Packer family, William was serving in the State Senate. He had formerly held the appointment of "Auditor General."   William Packer would within five years of James' visit become the Governor of Pennsylvania. Though a Democrat and a good friend of President Buchanan, William disagreed with the administration's position on the issue of slavery compromise in Kansas and he spoke out publicly against it. The resulting schism in the Democratic Party would eventually lead to Lincoln's election as President in 1860.

James doesn't mention the names of the two "handsome" daughters of William Packer, but the 1850 census records suggest these "damsels" were probably Mary Packer and Sarah B. Packer, who would have been 17 and 16 years old, respectively, at the time of his visit. Mary married James W. Clarke in 1857 and Sarah married Elisha Allis in 1860.

Three of William Packer's children are listed as students in the Williamsport Dickinson Seminary catalogue of 1848-49 -- Mary, Sarah B., and George S.  

[3]    Fools cap was a cheap paper the size and thickness of newspaper.

[4]    The "speaking trumpet" was a megaphone.

[5]    In J.C. Furnas' book, The Americans, the Pennsylvania Main line canals were described as being "40 feet wide at the waterline, 28 at the bottom with a 4-foot depth of water... Once the ditch was dug and the heavy-timbered locks built, here came the blunt-bowed canal boats towed by horses or mules, abreast or in tandem, two, three, four to the hitch depending on load and the resources of the boat owner... The canal boatman was about as rough as any Irish pick swinger. Indeed, they often were identical, for Pat out of work when the digging was finished might well secure a job on the boats flocking to use [the canal]. But...the "canawlers" also included plenty of rugged locals named Campbell, Marshall, or Schwartzmeister. They soon became a distinct social class deplored by village respectability aware that the red-armed slattern all too visible in the window of the stern cabin as the boat floated past had never married any of the successive canawlers with whom she slept as part of the cook's job. The crudity of her unabashed presence matched that of the colors of paint - the gaudiest greens, reds, yellows - lavished on the boats topsides....Canawlers prided themselves...on applying to draft animals language that would not be equaled until the mule skinners of the Far West took over." [pages 288-289]  

[6]    The village of Selinsgrove was laid out by Anthony Selin in 1791. The "Pennsylvania Canal" was constructed along the Susquehanna River at Selinsgrove shortly after 1824. At the time that James visited Selinsgrove in the fall of 1852, the little village was stirring with excitement from two major events. First, during the Scott-Pierce campaign, a big Whig rally was held and a Whig pole was raised at Hall's Corner (at the northeast corner of Market and Pine Street). Second, anti-railroad meetings were being held to oppose funding of the Susquehanna Railroad.