Category: History Publisher: McDonald & Woodward
ISBN-10: 1935778196
Type: Non-Fiction
Pages: 146
Copyright: April, 2012
Based on the travel journal of Henry Rogers, an Ohio businessman and miller, who traveled by horse and wagon from Cincinnati to New York City in the summer and fall of 1838. 165 years later, I made my own journey along the same path as Henry, my great-great-great grandfather.
Henry Rogers was a miller who lived and worked in Mt. Pleasant, Ohio during most of the 19th Century. In 1838, Henry, his wife, and her parents traveled from their home in southwestern Ohio to New York City via horse-drawn wagon. Henry, a literate businessman with diverse interests, kept a daily journal to "mention all interesting subjects and things that come under my observation."
Henry recorded observations of and thoughts about landforms and waterways, soil and crops, buildings other architectural features, mills and other forms of industry, places and institutions with tourist appeal, and emerging transportation facilities. The social and political environment of the times, as well as the health and comfort of his party--both humans and horses--as they traveled eastward, were all commented upon in the journal.
Some 150 years after Henry's trip, his great-great-great granddaughter, Tracy Lawson, received a typewritten copy of his journal as a gift, and almost immediately fell into an extensive, diverse exploration of the content and context of the documents. Thirteen years into her research, she, along with her young daughter, benchmarked the exploration of Henry's journal by retracing his route from southwestern Ohio to New Jersey.
Excerpt
[Tuesday August 28, 1838] At half past 9 we started. We passed by where there had been stone coal dug in a number of places...Here I will name another little anecdote, an old lady came out to receive the toll which was 31 1/2 cents. I gave her 37 1/2 cents pay, the change coming to me was 6 cents. The old sinner looked at the quarter and said there was no pillars on it, I contended that there was and they were plain, but she persisted in her own way and finally went and got her specks and looked at it and exclaimed, Law, it's an old fashioned one, well I guess it's a quarter, ain't it old man? (handing it to the old fellow himself who came out goring his eyes with his knuckles). Yes, it's a quarter, and the old lady gave me my phip and we put out from Norwich through Concord, Cambridge, and Washington.
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