A Brotherhood Of Cutthroats

Wednesday, Nov. 3, 1819.–Left Miller’s tavern at 7 o’clock and arrived at Squire Chambers’ at 6 o’clock, after traveling a distance of thirty-six miles. Passed a trifling village, Fredericksburg; also Greenville. A poor, barren, deserted country. For ten miles, stony, poor, mountainous and naked. Land a little better. Miserable huts, poor accommodations, cabin taverns, and […]

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