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This is an article that Milo Adams Townsend,
my great-grandfather, pasted into one of his scrapbooks. He dated
it 1850..--Peggy Townsend
Leaving the pleasant village of New Castle, I embark on the "raging
canawl" just as "the twilight dews are falling"
in the flowery month of May, bound for Pulaski-an old but unimportant
village in Mercer county. As we glided along, so gently and quietly,
I sat on deck, admiring the dark green foliage of the dense Laurel
and Pine woods which lined either shore of the Shenandoah valley;
and listened to the music of the frogs and the chirping of insects;
while the fishermen with their boats were paddling about--the
whole presenting a scene of rural beauty and picturesque grandeur
reminding me of Byron's descriptions of Italian night scenes.
"on the ear,
Dropped the light drip of the suspended oar,
And chirped the grass hopper one good-night carol more."
This traveling by Canal, though slow, is the
quietest and safest way in the world, except on foot. In either
case there is little danger of upsetting or blowing up. Still,
it does not suit the hurrying, dashing, driving, headlong, money-getting
spirit of the age.- Canals will be superseded by rail roads --
and rail roads by "Air-Ships," etc.
About midnight I was put off at Pulaski in company with a good-natured,
careless philosophizing Journeyman Printer from Cleveland, whom
I casually met the day before- After a few hours slumber, the
awkward, clownish, whisky-selling land-lord announced our breakfast,
which consisted of abundance of "everything in general, and
not much in particular." After looking around a little, and
"brooding over the genius of desolation," we concluded
to pursue our journey afoot. Before leaving, however, I called
on friend Scott of this place, a kind-hearted man, a member of
the Free Presbyterian Church, who subscribed for the "Visitor."
In such a rude, plodding village it was pleasant and refreshing
to meet with one or two, with hearts sufficiently large, and minds
sufficiently expansive to read a paper as reformatory as "The
Visitor."
A few hours travel on foot brought us to Middlesex, another little
village on the Canal, but which presented a much more fresh and
youthful appearance. Here I separated with my companion, and concluded
to await the arrival of the Packet which would be along in the
after part of the night. Without jotting down any of the somewhat
interesting details of my few hours sojourn here, I hasten to
describe the scene which presented itself on board the Packet.
I do this more particularly as it affords me an opportunity to
reiterate the importance of having decent air to breathe, and
to express my approbation of the pertinent remarks of Mrs. Swissburgh,
in her letter last spring to Harrisburgh, in which she showed
up the stupidity and ignorance of the Canal Boat occupants. Well,
when I got on board about 2 o'clock at night, I was ushered into
the cabin. The night was quite cool, the air damp and foggy. On
entering the cabin I was nearly 'floored" by the vitiated,
rotten atmosphere in which the snoring, groaning sleepers seemed
to struggle and gasp for breath. Every berth was occupied, and
four or five were lying on the floor. The windows were all shut
close to keep out the poisonous air.- This of course was very
prudent, as fresh air is apt to give people colds, and warm, foul
air only gives them fevers and undermines the general health for
life-time.
I took my cloak and went on deck, thinking to remain there till
morning, but I found it too cold to stay long. As I returned to
the cabin, one of the drivers came in, saying as he rubbed his
hands in the most satisfied manner, "0, this smells good."
So, thought I, the carrion smells "good" to the crow.
How he could smell anything good in that suffocating, foul and
corrupt atmosphere in which the inmates were weltering, I could
not divine. I threw myself down on the floor where the waiter
had spread a quilt for me, and tried to cheat myself into a little
sleep --- but the snoring, and quick uneasy breathing of the passengers,
and an occasional convulsive sigh, as if from some one in "the
last agonies," drove from me all inclination to slumber,
and brought up before my vision such scenes of suffocation and
death as were witnessed a few years ago on board a vessel in the
Irish sea and reminded me of the "'Black Hole of Calcutta,"
where so many also perished from being crowded together with no
manner of ventilation. After lying an hour or so, the stupefying
effects of the warm, exhausted atmosphere caused me to fall into
a troubled, unnatural sleep - (the result doubtless of slight
congestion of the brain --- ) from which at morning's dawn I awoke
with headache and nervous prostration hearing of similar complaints
from those who had "agonized" the whole night through.
Such ignorance and stupidity would be laughed at by the wild savage,
who knows how invigorating to his body and spirits is the pure,
fresh air which he breaths so abundantly in "the forest wild."
How soon would he pine and die in the smothering foetid, suffocating,
stifling atmosphere of a canal boat!- On different occasions,
when I have left the window open next my berth, some one would
be so prudent, when I fell asleep, as to shut it up close; for
which I felt no inclination to thank them. But I am making this
too long..."