SIX MONTHS IN AMERICA.

I now left Washington to proceed to Harper’s ferry. The English and American ideas of the picturesque are widely different. The Englishman, who sees enough of cultivation in his own country, travels to other lands in search of wilder scenery, and gazes with delight on the immense forests of America. The American would readily dispense with the romantic, and wonders that every body is not like himself, an admirer, by preference, of a rail-road, a canal, or a piece of newly cleared ground. Excellent as these are in their way, I really believe that the Americans, of the middle and lower class, regard them not merely with reference to their beneficial effects, but as the ne plus ultra of the beautiful. When I inquired which was the prettiest road towards Harper’s ferry, “Go by such a road,” was the reply; “it runs by the side of the canal, sir.” However, it so happened that the canal-road lay also along the bank of the Potomac, and the scenery certainly was very pretty. At a distance of two miles from the road, and thirteen or fourteen from Washington, are the Great Falls of the Potomac. I did not turn out of my way to see them; I have seen a great many, and purposed visiting Niagara.

After all I had heard, I must say, that I was disappointed with Harper’s ferry. The Shenandoah and Potomac rivers unite at the foot of the Blue Mountains, through which they have forced, or rather worn a passage; but the rivers are of the same width. The mountains, composed of limestone, and schistose rocks, are of moderate and uniform elevation, and they appear to be perfectly acquiescent, while the stream glides in silent triumph over its smooth though rocky channel, without the least appearance of exasperation.

I visited the United States’ arsenal, containing 70,000 stand of arms. The chief armourer was an old Englishman, who served at the battles of Alexandria and Trafalgar. I observed that, with the exception of the ramrod and touchhole, which was of brass, every part of the musket, lock, barrel, and bayonet, was browned. They were not ranged in order, as in other arsenals, but were kept in boxes, so that there was no display whatever. From the arsenal I proceeded to Captain Hall’s manufactory of patent rifles. With one of these, after a little practice, a man may load and fire eight or nine times in a minute. The arrangement is very simple. The barrel appears to have been divided from the breech with a fine saw. The breech is raised by means of a hinge and a spring, which is struck by the hand, and when loaded is immediately shut down, so as to form part of the barrel, similar to that of a screw pistol. The great advantage gained by the invention of this rifle is, that with it a soldier can load, and defend himself with his bayonet at the same time.

There are also some large saw mills here well worth the attention of the traveller.

I proceeded up the well-cultivated valley of the Shenandoah, and arrived at Winchester, a neat and considerable town; thence to a good inn in the middle of the forest. In my way I crossed the sandy ridge and the Capon Mountains, though they hardly deserve such a name, being, to all appearance, scarcely higher than the Wrekin in Shropshire. I breakfasted at Romney, a pretty village on the south bank of the Potomac. A little farther on, the road is frowned upon by an overhanging rock of bastard lime-stone: its appearance is very singular. The strata are disposed in arches one within the other, so that, with the aid of fancy, its surface may be thought to resemble the solid frame-work of a stupendous bridge. The highest arch, to which the others are parallel, is nearly semi-circular with a radius of 270 feet.

When the mail, in which I was travelling, arrived at the north branch of the Potomac, we found it so swollen by the late rains that a passage seemed not only dangerous but impracticable. The coachman, however, a cool and determined fellow, crossed over on horseback; he then returned, placed one of the passengers on the near leader, and resolutely drove his four horses into the torrent, which was sixty or seventy yards in width, running like a mill-race, and so deep that it reached nearly up to the backs of the horses. I was with him on the box. The inside passengers pulled off their coats, and prepared to swim. The water forced itself into the coach; but we reached the opposite bank without disaster. On the preceding evening the coachman had only prevented the mail from being entirely carried away, by turning the horses’ heads down the stream, so that the coach and horses were swimming for nearly thirty yards. I think the American coachmen, in general, are good drivers: the horses are well adapted to their work, and in fine condition: in summer they are allowed any quantity of oats they can eat, and in winter a little Indian corn is mixed with them. It is too heating to be much used in the stable during the summer months; one feed of Indian corn is supposed to contain as much nourishment as two of oats. The coaches stop every five or six miles, and the horses drink at least half a pail of water; they could not work without it on a hot day. The roads in the country would puzzle the most experienced English coachman; they are often execrably bad,—and require making, not mending,—with the roots of trees sticking up in the middle of the road. The expense of finishing good roads through the forest would be enormous, far too great to be borne at present; but in the neighbourhood of the large towns I have sometimes seen them in a state of inexcusable neglect.

Cumberland is delightfully situated in the valley of the Potomac, surrounded by lofty hills, out-topped by the distant Alleghany, which had appeared in sight towards the close of the day.

Virginia is famous for its breed of horses. Till I passed through that state I had not seen a horse with at all the shape and figure of an English hunter; but in Virginia I have seen horses on the road, and brood mares in the pastures, displaying a great deal of blood and symmetry. In all parts of the Union which I visited, a well-bred horse is termed a “blooded horse:” but the Americans are quite at liberty to use what terms they please. Besides the paces usually known in England, the horse in the United States is valuable according to his performances as a square or natural trotter, a pacer, or a racker. A racker is a beast that can trot before, and canter behind, at the same time. The recommendations of a pacer are, that he moves his fore and hind legs on the same side at the same time, like a cameleopard. When hiring a hack, you are questioned as to which you would prefer. As there is no fox-hunting, a fast trotter is considered the most valuable animal next to the racer. A horse that can trot a mile in two minutes and a half, is not thought very extraordinary.

At Cumberland I joined the high road or “turnpike,” between Baltimore and Pittsburgh, and soon afterwards I began the ascent of the Alleghany for the second time. The road passes over Keyser’s ridge, one of the highest parts of the mountain, rising to a height of 2800 feet above the level of the western rivers. The mountain presented the same distant and interminable forest view that I beheld when I passed over it in Pennsylvania; but in that state, there were more patches of cultivated land to be seen here and there in the vicinity of the high road. Silence and tranquillity to a degree I never before witnessed, are, I think, the prevailing characteristics of the American forests, where the Indian is no longer an inhabitant. They are dark, but never gloomy, excepting where they are composed of pine trees: they are solitary, and are silent as the grave, without inspiring horror. They are curious and interesting to the European traveller. In Europe the eye is frequently attracted by the ancient relics of feudal grandeur, or the formidable structures of modern, and more civilized warfare. But the wild scenery of America is dependent for its interest on nature, and nature only; the mountain pass is without banditti, the forest is without fastness, and the glens and glades are quiet and legendless. I was never tired of the forest scenery, although I passed through it day after day. The endless diversity of foliage always prevents it from being monotonous. Sycamores and tulip trees of most gigantic dimensions, are to be seen on the banks of the smaller rivers, or creeks, as they are termed in the United States. With the more stately trees of the forest are mingled the sassafras, the gum-tree, the hickory, and many others that are new to the European eye. But the most beautiful sight is afforded by the wild vine that entwines itself round the acacia, and covers every branch of it with a green tile-work, extended in festoons to the nearest trees; like those which are to be seen in the vineyards of Italy.

Soon after passing the Alleghany, I was shown the remains of an old entrenchment in a meadow on the left of the road: it was formed by Washington, then a Colonel in the British service, when pursued by the Indians after the defeat of General Braddock. A little further on, on the right hand, on the bank of a small stream, I saw the spot where the General was buried on the 9th of July, 1755; having neglected the precautions recommended by Colonel Washington, who offered to scour the forest alongside his line of march with the provincial troops; he was attacked by the Indians in a defile on the banks of the Monongahela, when within about ten miles of Fort du Quesne, at Pittsburgh, then occupied by the French, and which he was marching to besiege: his bravery was of little use; all the officers about his person were killed, he had five horses shot under him, and at last he himself received a mortal wound. He was conveyed away by his retreating soldiers; but soon afterwards died, and was buried in the middle of the road, and the wagons and horses were allowed to pass over his grave, in order to conceal the spot from the pursuing Indians. With his dying breath he acknowledged to Colonel Washington the error he had committed in not following his advice. He presented him with his horse, and gave his parting injunction to an old and faithful attendant to enter into the service of Colonel Washington, and remain with him till the day of his death. Fort Du Quesne was afterwards taken by General Forbes, and the name was changed to Fort Pitt, in compliment to the British minister. The magazine and part of the wall, are all that remain of it at present, and are to be seen near the point of confluence of the rivers at Pittsburgh.

At Washington town, I attended a black Methodist meeting; they are to be found in every considerable town in the Union, but I had never seen one before. The preacher was a half-cast, or quarteroon, as the negroes call them, and he and his congregation were all ranters; he talked the most incoherent nonsense, and worked himself up to such a pitch of frenzy, that his appearance was almost that of a maniac. At intervals I was nearly stunned by the noise he made; and I could not help thinking of the speech of the frogs in the fable, who said to the boy as he pelted them, “It may be very good fun for you, but we really find it exceedingly disagreeable.”

As I approached Pittsburgh the forest became less extensive, and the country exhibited a more general appearance of cultivation, although it may be broadly asserted that the Americans are at least fifty years behind us in agriculture; yet there are many gentlemen’s estates on which more than ordinary care and labour have been bestowed, and which, consequently, are far in advance of others. I observed some good farming adjacent to the road. Some part of the country I am speaking of, might have been mistaken for the more wooded parts of England, had it not been for the worm or zigzag fence which is in universal use throughout the United States, and offers but a poor apology for the English hedge row, although they are sometimes composed of cedar logs.

Pittsburgh is built on the confluence of the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers, both of them being about a quarter of a mile in width, whose united streams form the Ohio. They are both passed by a fine wooden bridge.

The city contains 12,000 inhabitants; but if the suburbs are included in the calculation, its population will amount to nearly 23,000. It may be called the western capital of Pennsylvania. It manufactures annually about 18,000 tons of iron, and the same quantity of steel. It has also an extensive manufactory of cotton and glass. Bituminous coal is found in the greatest plenty in the neighbourhood, and in consequence of the smoke and black dust from the manufactories, the shopkeepers complain that it is impossible to keep any thing clean. I entered Pittsburgh on the 4th of July, on which day, as every one knows, the Declaration of Independence was signed at Philadelphia. It is, of course, always and universally a day of rejoicing in the United States. The militia are called out, a public dinner is always given in every town and village in the Union, and an appropriate oration is delivered by the appointed orator of the day. I regretted I did not arrive in time to be present at the dinner, which had taken place under the shade of some trees on the opposite side of the Alleghany, but I heard a great number of sentiments delivered, without being drank. Any bystander wrote an idea upon a slip of paper and handed it to the orator, who read it aloud to the company. They were all more or less patriotic, but usually couched in the most ridiculous bombastic language. The cause of reform in England, was a frequent theme of eulogy. William the reformer was applauded as being more glorious than William the Conqueror. Henry Brougham was coupled with Henry Clay, and a drunken Irishman requested “parmission to give a woluntary toast,” and lauded his majesty to the skies, in terms which I cannot pretend to recollect.

On this day died, at New York, James Monroe, the fifth president of the United States, having twice held that office from 1817 to 1825. His eulogy was spoken by Mr. Adams, who appears to be the orator-general upon such occasions, and who, in the true spirit of republicanism, thinks it no degradation to take his seat as a member of congress after having once filled the president’s chair. Mr. Monroe was five years of age at the date of the Stamp Act. At an early age he joined the standard of Washington, when others were deserting it. He was present at the celebrated passage of the Delaware at Trenton, was wounded in the subsequent engagement, and was afterwards present in the actions of Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth. He took his seat in the federal congress in June 1783, at the age of twenty-four. He was at first opposed to the adoption of the articles of the constitution, believing them to be imperfect, and of little remedial efficacy; although he was decidedly in favour of some important change in the existing government under the articles of confederation. Mr. Monroe was appointed by President Washington, the minister plenipotentiary to the court of France, and was received with splendid formality by the national convention; but being unsuccessful in his negociations, he was recalled, and Mr. Pinkney appointed in his place. He was afterwards appointed governor of Virginia. When Napoleon had 20,000 veterans assembled at Helvoet-sluys, ready for embarkation to Louisiana. Mr. Monroe was sent over by President Jefferson on a special commission. On his arrival, the war between Great Britain and France was rekindling, and the danger to Louisiana was averted. In conjunction with Mr. Pinkney, the then United States’ minister at Madrid, he concluded the treaty by which Louisiana was ceded to the United States, in the year 1803. This state was in the possession of the Spaniards from 1762 till 1800, when it was again ceded to the French, the original settlers. The United States paid 15,000,000 of dollars for it; Mr. Monroe afterwards went to England as minister plenipotentiary, he was present in Paris at the coronation of Napoleon. He returned to the United States in 1807, and became secretary of state in 1811, and afterwards secretary at war. In 1817 he was elected president, and was re-elected in 1821 without opposition. His opinion on the subject of internal improvements, was, that a power of establishing a general system of internal improvement had not been delegated to congress, and he returned a bill to the house, in which it originated, with a justification of his exercise of prerogative, in an able and elaborate exposition of the reasons for the refusal of his assent. It is a very singular fact, that Mr. Monroe is the third out of four deceased presidents, who have died on the 4th July. The circumstances attending the deaths of Presidents Jefferson and John Adams were very extraordinary. A committee of five was originally appointed to draw up the articles of the constitution. Jefferson and Adams were selected as a sub-committee, and were in fact the real framers of the constitution. These two gentlemen died on the 4th of July, in the same year, and the news of their decease arrived at exactly the same time on the same day, at Philadelphia, where the Declaration of Independence was signed.

From Pittsburgh I rode to Braddock’s field. It was pointed out to me about three hundred yards from the bank of the Monongahela. The ground has been considerably cleared since the action took place; but it seems to have been admirably adapted to the Indian mode of warfare, on account of the undulating surface of the field, that enabled the Indians, with the aid of the forest with which it was then covered, to lie in ambush, and fire without being perceived. When, as a child, I used to read the account of this sanguinary conflict, as narrated by the highlander in the history of “Sandford and Merton,” little did I dream that I should ever stand upon the field of battle.

From Pittsburg, I proceeded for fifteen miles down the western bank of the Ohio to Economy, a German settlement, under the superintendence of Mr. Rapp, conducted on a system somewhat resembling that of Mr. Owen of Lanark. The members call themselves the “Brothers;” and have a community of property. Any person, of any country, however poor, may become a member, by conforming to the rules, and submitting to learn one of the trades or other occupations which are taught in the society. If he be weary of its regulations, he is at liberty to leave it, and takes with him, from the public fund, all that he brought into it: his earnings, during his stay, becoming general property. It is open on the same terms, even to the entirely destitute. The town is regularly built, and extremely neat: there are 4000 acres of land belonging to the establishment, cultivated by the members, and at the expense of the society; they have a good museum, an admirable band, and public concerts twice in the week. The “Brothers” are chiefly Lutherans, from Wirtenberg, where I understood they originally attempted to form a society of the same kind, but it became obnoxious to the government, and was suppressed. Mr. Rapp himself is a Lutheran clergyman, and preaches the doctrine of brotherly love. His first settlement was on the Wabash river, several hundred miles to the south; but he sold the place to Mr. Owen, whose philanthropic exertions were, as usual, unattended with success. Mr. Rapp occasionally goes to Philadelphia, in search of recruits amongst the latest importations from Germany; and it will be readily believed, that he enlists none but his own countrymen to undergo this voluntary confinement, and second schooling. It is scarcely necessary to mention, that marriage and a continuance in the society, are incompatible. It is said, that Mr. Rapp’s system has been sufficiently successful to cheat him into the idea, that his calling, if not of the prophetic, is, at least, of the patriarchal order.

At Economy, I joined the passing steam-boat for Maysville. For about a hundred and fifty miles of its course, the average width of the Ohio is not greater than that of the Thames at Vauxhall bridge. It is often very low; and not navigable for steam-boats. The water is then extremely clear; but when I saw it, the river had been swelled by the late rains, and was very muddy. The surface of its unruffled and rapid stream was nearly covered by trunks of trees, which had been washed down by the torrents from the forests, and rendered it often necessary to stop the engine, in order to prevent accidents to the paddles. In our passage down the river we passed, amongst others, Blennerhasset’s Island, so called from its having been the residence of a person of that name, who had involved himself in the supposed conspiracy of Colonel Barr, who, in 1806, fitted out an armed expedition on the Ohio, with which he intended either to make a hostile incursion into the Spanish territories, or, according to the more general belief, to make himself master of New Orleans, with a view to the formation of an independent power. Blennerhasset had beautified the island at a great expense, but his property was confiscated by order of government.

We passed Wheeling, a town containing about 6000 inhabitants, and manufactories of the same kind as those at Pittsburg. At this place, it is said, that the Baltimore and Ohio rail-road is to come in contact with the river.

Maysville is a much prettier town, with a more picturesque situation; and looks well, in spite of its red houses. I ascended a hill whence I had a fine view of the Ohio, which is here above a quarter of a mile in width. It is observable of its banks, that they never rise to any height, directly from the water, on both sides of the river at the same time. If they are abrupt on the one side, the opposite shore is sure to display a fine strip of cultivated land intervening between the hills and the river, in the back ground. Near Portsmouth, on the Ohio, is a slip of ground containing 4000 acres, the whole of it planted with Indian corn, but it is hidden from the view of the steam-boat passengers by the trees on the margin of the river.

About twenty-four miles from Maysville, on the road to Lexington, is a very fine sulphureous spring, called “the Blue Lick.” There are several houses in the neighbourhood for the accommodation of visiters, who resort thither for the benefit of the water.

Lexington is the neatest country town I had yet seen in the United States; the streets are regular and spacious, and delightfully shaded by acacia trees, which are planted before every house: it contains about 6000 inhabitants. Although comfortable and cheerful in its appearance, Lexington is the only place of note in the United States, whose prosperity, for several years, has been on the decline. It could boast of excellent society; but being an inland town, and supported only by the surrounding country, it is now paying the penalty for having enlarged itself beyond its means of supply. One additional cause of its decline is the great increase of steam navigation on the Ohio and Mississippi, which affords so much greater facility to travellers going to New Orleans than the land route, which runs through Lexington. A college which had been established here did not answer the expectations of its founders, and a few years since was unfortunately burnt.

Till lately the greatest confusion prevailed through the whole of Kentucky, in consequence of the complicated state of titles to landed property, which has considerably retarded the advance of its prosperity. Lands were sold by the government of Virginia before the separation of Kentucky from that state, without having been previously surveyed and marked out. The consequence was, that four or five different persons entered with their warrants of possession, as purchasers of the same lots, where, in many cases, their interest had already been sold and re-sold. The endless litigation occasioned by this state of affairs produced a law, limiting the time of action to seven years, after which the occupier was to remain in undisputed possession of the property.

The system of country banks has been still more ruinous to Lexington, and the state of Kentucky generally. They were first established towards the end of the year 1817. The persons principally connected with them were members of the legislature; about forty of them were opened with, of course, a very limited capital, but an unlimited supply of paper. The establishment of the branch bank of the United States obliged them to pay in specie, and the consequence was the greatest embarrassment in their affairs. The directors enacted what laws they pleased, to save themselves from the impending ruin: they abolished imprisonment for debt, and passed what were called stay laws,—general and particular enactments, which extended the time of payment; a desperate mode of proceeding, and which only served to plunge them deeper in the mire. Those who were of opinion that payment of debts, contracted at a time when paper was the only currency, could not now be demanded in specie, contrived to get a law passed establishing a new court, filled by judges whose opinions coincided with their own, and who were removable at pleasure. The decisions of this court were at variance with those of the old one, and a new and old court party immediately arose. The judges of the new court, however, immediately resigned. Public and private credit is still at a low ebb, and the ultimate ruin of many of the leading families in the state, who are connected with the banks, appears, I was informed, almost unavoidable.

A rail-road to Louisville is shortly to be commenced, which will, no doubt, much benefit the town and surrounding country. At the distance of a mile stands the English-looking residence of Henry Clay, Esq., whose public services are too well known to need any remark here.

I visited several caves in this neighbourhood; that called Russell’s cave, distant about six miles, is most worthy of attention. It is three quarters of a mile in length, formed in a rock, composed of innumerable strata of marine shells, embedded in lime-stone. The action of water, occasioning an immense pressure, is evident at first sight. A delicious spring issues from the cave, which unfortunately was so swollen as to prevent my entrance. Three miles hence, I observed two Indian forts. The larger is surrounded by a trench, which is now about seven feet deep and three quarters of an inch in length. In the swollen one the ditch is considerably deeper and more distinct, encircling it on every side, excepting where an entrance, wide enough to admit a carriage, has been left untouched by the spade.

At Lexington, I was much amused at the master-aping manners of the slaves. They give themselves great airs. On Sundays they either hire hacks, or more commonly ride their masters’ horses. I saw dozens of them, attended by their females, playing the agreeable on horseback, and “doing a bit of park” “à la militaire.” The slaves of the southern states are a very happy race. In some places their numbers constitute a “plaie politique,” equally troublesome, and far more formidable, than the system of poor laws in England. In many places they far outnumber the whites, who are obliged to use great precautions, and restrict their slaves in many particulars. About twenty years ago a conspiracy was formed by the negroes at Lexington: a house was to be set on fire, and whilst every one repaired to the spot, they were to take possession of a large stand of arms kept at the inn, and the defenceless crowd were to be fired upon. The bank was to be plundered, and the town burnt. The conspiracy was discovered by a negress, who, on the preceding evening, told her master that the leaders were below, in deliberation, and that if he would listen, he would be convinced of the truth of what she said. He did so, and they were taken into custody.

There are still such animals in existence as slave merchants, but they are not numerous. Slaves are purchased in different parts of the country, and sent down the Mississippi to the sugar plantations at New Orleans. An able-bodied young negro is worth three hundred dollars, and the merchant is encouraged in his brutal traffic by a sure market, and a profit of at least thirty-five, and frequently of forty or forty-five per cent., after deducting the necessary expenses for food and clothing, and making allowances for losses by death and accident. Three or four years back, one of these men and his assistants were murdered on the Mississippi by a cargo of slaves, who spared no torture that could be applied by means of fire and steel.

In Virginia, if a black is freed by his master he is presented as a nuisance by the grand jury, and generally is not allowed to remain in the state. In Kentucky, a freed man cannot leave his native county without quitting the state entirely; and a master who emancipates his slave, is obliged to give security to the county for his maintenance. Even a white man, who would be called a vagrant in England, is there liable, not only to be taken up but to be sold, for two or three months, to the highest bidder, who has the power of treating him as a slave, if he refuse to work. When any ship arrives at Charleston in South Carolina, the police immediately go on board, and have the power of arresting the black cook, or any free negro they find there, who is placed in confinement till the ship is ready to put to sea again. So jealous are they of the presence of a free negro, that a master is not permitted to emancipate his slave without sending him out of the state; and if a slave has left South Carolina, in the capacity of valet with his master, and has once obtained his liberty, by setting foot in a free state, he is never allowed to return. At Washington, the sound of the slave auctioneer’s hammer may be heard within a short distance of the capitol. In Virginia, the country of Hampden-Sydney College, the slave population amounted, in 1830, to 469,724, being larger than that of any other state, and bearing a proportion to the whites of rather less than four to six. In Georgia there is a county, most appropriately called Liberty County, where the slave population is to the whites as five to one.

The slave children are not instructed to read or write at the expense of their masters; if they enjoy these advantages, they have been taught by persons of their own colour. If they could write, they would forge their pass-papers, and run away; and those who can, are always ready to do this for those who cannot. The slave population could not be educated, and remain long in a state of bondage. Its march of intellect would be stronger and more terrible than the fire in the vast American forests which it would traverse: to check it is impossible, and flight is unavailing; so that the only means of avoiding destruction is to add vigour, and give direction to the flame.

Chè più facil sarìa svolger il corso Presso Cariddi alla volubil onda, O tardar Borea allor che scote il dorso Dell’ Appennino, e i legni in mare affonda.

The apparent advantage of procuring labour for nothing is often far outweighed by the consequences arising from the idle and careless manners of the slaves, and the expense incurred in their maintenance. Two white men will easily perform the work of three negroes, when the weather is not intolerably hot. They do as little as they can for their masters; but on a holiday they will work for each other like real slaves. Even an unaccustomed eye would recognize a slave district by the slovenly appearance of the farms, and of every thing connected with them. The residence of the slaves is usually at some little distance from the dwelling-house of their master. The quarter, as it is termed, consists of a number of small huts, with a larger house for the overseer, and will sometimes contain three hundred or four hundred negroes, with their families, and all more or less distantly related to each other. An arable farm will scarcely pay, unless its superintendent be a man of skill, firmness, and perseverance. So much depends upon him, that if he be a person of that character, a good farm, one year with another, will return a profit of eight or ten per cent.; but it is usually not so large, and is never equal to the emolument of an attentive agriculturist in the northern states, where slaves are unknown.

By the last census, the total population of the United States was 12,856,165: of these 2,010,436 were slaves, existing only in what are termed the southern states, of which Maryland is the most northerly. It is said, that supposing an inclination to secede from the Union should be prevalent in the southern states, the danger they would incur from their inability to defend themselves against their black population, would be a sufficient reason for their thinking twice on the subject. There can be no doubt, that the slaves, with an offer of liberty, would prove a most formidable weapon in the hands of an enemy. This, however, is not very likely to take place, at least not as yet. Before I quitted America a partial insurrection had taken place in Virginia, in which sixty or seventy persons were brutally massacred by the negroes; and it is most probable that the state legislature will consider of some measures by which the superabundant slave population may be effectually disposed of. Their attention will probably be directed to the colony of Liberia, on the windward coast in Africa, hitherto supported exclusively by the funds and management of the colonization society, which provides vessels for the transportation of slaves manumitted on condition of their departure for that place. Within the last few years two or three hundred negroes have been annually sent out of the country in this manner. The capital of the colony, which is defended by a garrison, is called Monrovia, because it was founded during the presidency of Mr. Monroe. The blacks support themselves by traffic with the natives, and by cultivating the soil.

I really think I had not seen more than one or two ponds in the United States, before I entered the state of Kentucky; there, they are common enough, and plenty of bull-frogs may usually be heard grunting in the mud on their margins. With the aid of a little fancy, there is certainly some truth in the assertion, that the noise they make resembles the words “blood and ’ounds,” repeated in a very deep and coarse human voice.

I confess that I had formed an erroneous idea of Kentucky, at least, of that part of it through which I passed. Contrary to my expectations, I found the land as much cleared as in any state I had previously seen. The soil is very rich in many parts; and will produce five or six crops of Indian corn or wheat, in successive years, without the assistance of manure. It is a positive fact, that the grazing farmers will not unfrequently pull down and remove the sheds in the fields, sooner than incur the trouble and expense of clearing away the quantity of manure that has accumulated in them. Labour is dear, and land is cheap; so that a farmer who can clear good fresh land whenever he pleases, has no inducement to be at the expense which is necessarily laid out on a farm in England, before it is rendered sufficiently productive. The dressing of land, by laying on manure or otherwise improving it, would, in Kentucky, be considered generally, a waste of labour. Hemp is the staple article of produce in this state.

The finest specimens of American forest scenery are to be found in Kentucky: the oaks and sycamores, in particular, grow to an immense size, and throw a delicious shade on the soil beneath; which is often free from all kinds of underwood, and covered with a carpet of greensward,—affording the finest pasture ground imaginable to great numbers of cattle, which are constantly grazing there. I was forcibly reminded of the beautiful description in the opening scene of “Ivanhoe.”

I had resolved to visit the great Mammoth cave in Kentucky, distant about 120 miles from Lexington, on the right of the Nashville road. I accordingly proceeded in that direction, and soon arrived on the banks of the Kentucky river. I considered this ferry as a most beautiful specimen of Indian scenery. The river is here seventy or eighty yards across, and flows with a dark and quiet stream, between two very high cliffs, whose bold, bare, limestone fronts are seen to great advantage, as they rise above the mass of forest, that intervenes between their base and the water. It bore some resemblance to Swinsund ferry, on the frontier of Sweden and Norway, although certainly inferior.

Shaker’s town is occupied as the name implies, by persons of that sect. One of their number, which amounts to a few hundreds, is an architect, and this accounts for the superior build of their houses. From Glasgow, a cross road conducted me to Bell’s tavern, a solitary house standing at the meeting of the Lexington and Louisville roads, to Nashville, in the midst of what are called “the barrens.” These barrens, it is supposed by many, were originally Prairies, or “Pararas,” as they are called by the lower class of Americans, but are now principally covered by dwarf oaks. Wild turkeys, deer, pheasants, and the bird called the barren hen, which is also the prairie hen, and the grouse of the northern and middle states, are found in the barrens; cougars, wolves, foxes, &c. are also to be met with there. At Bell’s tavern, which, by the way, is a very comfortable little country inn, I procured horses and a guide, and set out for the Mammoth cave. After an agreeable and shady ride of seven miles, I arrived at a small lonely log house tavern, built about a hundred yards from the mouth of the great cave. There are several smaller caves in the neighbourhood; but the only one of these I visited was the white cave; of no extent, but curious, on account of the number, and diversified shape of its stalactitic formations, formed by the depositions of water, dropping through the limestone rock.

Immediately in front of the inn, begins a narrow path winding down a dark ravine, which conducts to the cave. Its entrance is overshadowed by the dark foliage of the surrounding trees, and its appearance altogether is exceedingly gloomy, and calculated to inspire a feeling of horror. The presence of two beautiful humming birds very much heightened by contrast the effects of the scene. They were darting in all directions, as quickly as the eye could follow; sometimes passing with the greatest rapidity across the mouth of the cave, or remaining for an instant, motionless in the air, as they sipped, on the wing, of the water that was incessantly dripping from the projecting rock. I could not but think of the incantation scene in “Der Freychütze.”

The very sudden encounter of cold air at the mouth of the cave, is more agreeable than safe during the hot weather. Not that the air itself is damp or unwholesome; on the contrary, it is particularly dry and healthy. I have been told of its acting as a febrifuge, and can easily believe it. A great quantity of salt-petre was made there during the late war. The works still remain, but have not been used for many years. The salt was procured by pouring water over a wooden trough, filled with the earth from the cave, which, when saturated, was allowed to run off; was then boiled, and the salt separated by vaporization. By this process, two pounds of salt-petre were procured from one bushel of earth. The air is so highly impregnated with the saline particles, that meat, butter, cheese, and many other substances, after remaining a short time in the cave, become of a bright red colour, and are unfit for use. I was attended by an old man, and two boys, sons of the landlord, each of us carrying a small lamp, with an additional supply of grease to trim them. The rock is very low near the entrance, but soon expands to a magnificent size. The average width and height may be about seventy feet, but in some places it is more lofty, and far wider. I first visited an antechamber, and walked a mile before I reached the end, where there is a small but curious waterfall, that has worked its way into the side of the rock in a serpentine direction. Sulphur, red and yellow ochre, may be picked up there; and gum borax, sulphate of magnesia, and sulphate of soda, are found adhering to the walls in considerable quantities, but not in every part. We returned from the antechamber and proceeded up the principal part of the cave. The roof and sides were but little broken, and in general their evenness and regularity of angle were surprising. The walking was very good at first; but our passage was soon impeded and rendered fatiguing, by the enormous number of loose blocks of limestone, that were heaped up on every side. At intervals we came to a small pyramid composed of broken fragments, raised by the aborigines, who have left traces of their existence throughout the whole of North America. I pulled down one of them, and found only the remains of a fire; similar marks are to be seen on the bare rock in many parts of the cave. Pieces of cane with which Kentucky originally abounded, within the memory of many now living, were strewed around, having evidently afforded the fuel with which these fires were fed. In some places the face of the rock had been slightly worked, but for what purpose will for ever remain undetermined. The floor of the cave is generally parallel with the surface of the ground above, as no great rise or fall is perceivable throughout its entire direction. At about the distance of a mile and a half from its mouth, the cave takes a majestic bend to the left, and two miles further we arrived at what is called “the cross roads.” From this large and gloomy expanse, four distinct caverns branch out in different directions. The glare of our lamps was just sufficiently powerful to display the opening on the left. It looked as black and dismal as darkness could make it, and was formed by vast fragments of rock, thrown together with a confusion equalling that at the pass in the Pyrenees, usually known by the name of Chaos. We clambered over them, and after half an hour’s walking, we arrived at what seemed to be the termination of the cavern; but, in the corner on the left, is a kind of natural chimney, through which we climbed to another chamber. It did not much differ from the other parts of the cave, excepting that it is much wider in proportion to its length, and the roof blacker. A solitary bat was clinging to it, and was the only living animal I saw in the cave. No others inhabit this mansion of utter darkness. The small pyramids of stone, and the marks of fire, were very numerous. We explored the other branches of the cave in succession. At intervals the huge blocks of limestone rose nearly to the roof, and seemed to set progress at defiance; but, after mastering the summit, we were enabled to continue, till we reached another and similar difficulty. The cave never appeared to such effect as when seen from the top of one of these eminences; because its downward dimensions were not visible by the light of the lamps, and a bottomless pit was an easy conjecture. The most terrific place is what is called the cataracts; here, the floor sinks away to a greater depth, and a large chasm is formed on one side by gigantic mis-shapen rocks, fearfully disposed over the head of the explorer, as he gladly descends to refresh himself with a draught of the pure, delicious water, that falls from the roof. I thought I had never before seen anything so unearthly, excepting perhaps, the crater of Vesuvius. We subsequently entered a smaller part of the cave, which is gradually contracted into so narrow a passage, that we were obliged to crawl on all fours. It led us, in a few minutes, to the brink of a large black pit, down which I tossed some fragments of stone, and we heard them descending from rock to rock, for the depth, I should judge, of 150 feet. In this manner I visited three, and I have reason to believe, all the four extremities, of the principal branches of the cave. I had been told that it was as much as twelve miles to the end of the cavern which I entered through the chimney, and that the cave itself had been explored for more than fourteen. The guides make it out to be more than double its real length. I was more than six hours under ground, and moving almost incessantly, during which time, as nearly as I could calculate, I walked but nine or ten miles. The extreme ends of the principal branches, I should say, were between four and five. There are several smaller chambers, which I did not visit, but I heard that they contained nothing new, or different from the others; and feeling greatly fatigued, was glad to emerge into the open air. I found it requisite to pause at the entrance: there is no intermediate temperature between the cool, but not chilly air of the cave, and the sultry atmosphere of noon. The sensation was extraordinary; with both my arms extended, one hand would be warm, at the same time that I would gladly withdraw the other from the contact of the colder air of the cave. Those who do not take the precaution of waiting a few minutes, are almost invariably attacked with giddiness, or a fainting fit.

I had erred in believing that the huge bones of the mammoth and other quadrupeds at present unknown, had been found in this cave; and in imagination I had listened to the dying cries of agony sent forth by those stupendous animals as they struggled in the thundering billow of the deluge that had risen, and rolled into their hiding place, and reduced them to a state of frenzy and desperation. But it has received its name of the “mammoth cave” only on account of its superior size and extent: the term being frequently applied where size or importance is intended to be designated. For instance, the branch bank of the United States at Cincinnati, is called the Mammoth bank. None but human bones have been found in this cave. These were often dug up by the saltpetre manufacturers, and were usually found lying side by side, but separated and covered over by a rough slab of limestone. I was informed that upwards of a hundred skeletons had been there unearthed; and it is probable that more are still remaining in different parts of the cave. In general they are not larger than those of the ordinary race of men. They are doubtless the remains of some of that ancient nation, whose very name is unknown; whose customs and occupation are unrecorded; whose chiefs and heroes remain unchronicled, and whose existence is to be traced only in the monuments of death or warfare.

The manner in which this and the other caves in Kentucky have been formed may, perhaps, be more than conjectured. They are all composed of secondary limestone, resting on a substratum of sand,—a singular formation, but one that is common in this part of America. The sand may have been gradually dislodged by the action of water; a theory which the sloping nature of the ground between the cave and the Green river, only a few hundred yards distant, does not contradict. A gentleman informed me that he had lately witnessed a similar process. He had for a long time watched the increase of a small sand bank, that had been forming in a stream on his own property in the lower part of Kentucky,—and upon further examination he found, as he expected, that a cave had been gradually hollowed out by the action of the water behind it. The whole of this country and the region watered by the Mississippi, is diluvial, and in many places marine shells and the fossil remains of marine animals have been found in great abundance.

In the neighbourhood of the cave, there are a great many wild turkeys, and a tolerable sprinkling of deer, but both were difficult of approach at that season of the year. I was exceedingly anxious for a shot at a wild turkey, but committed a great error in loading with ball only; and although I contrived to get three or four fair shots on the ground, and on the wing, yet I confess through eagerness to have missed them. Once I contrived to near a brood, but had the mortification, although close to them, to hear them rising one by one on the other side of a thicket; and when I did pull at the last bird, my gun, which was loaded with shot, missed fire through the badness of the copper cap. After vainly toiling through the forest in search of a deer, for one whole August day, I was poacher enough to drop down the Green river in a canoe, in the vicinity of the cave, at two in the morning, in order to get a shot at one whilst feeding upon the moss at the bottom of the river. A light was placed at the head of the boat with a board behind it. I sat in the middle of the canoe, which was paddled forward by a man at the stern; both of us being as silent as possible. The darker the night, the better; the deer stand gazing at the light, till the canoe almost touches them; they appear as white as a sheep, and the aim of a Kentucky rifle is usually too true, at any reasonable distance, to render the death of one of them an uncertainty. But I was again unfortunate. I had been disappointed in the attendance of an experienced hunter, whom I had engaged to go with me, and my companion, who was a novice, allowed three deer that were standing close to us, but not distinguishable by me among the tall sedge, to run off untouched by the random shot I sent after them. The back-woodsmen are excellent marksmen, their rifles are long and heavy, carrying a very small ball, often not bigger than a large pea. With these a good shot will alternately hit and miss the head of a squirrel at sixty yards distance.

I returned to Bell’s tavern with the determination of advising every travelling friend who visited Kentucky, by no means to leave that state without having seen the Mammoth cave; and I think that a sportsman, well provided with dogs, guns, &c., might well spend a week in a very satisfactory manner by taking up his quarters at Bell’s tavern. When we had forded the Green river, the coachman addressed a man on the opposite side, and asked him how his wife was, “Thank ’e, I guess, she’s smartly unwell this morning,” was the reply.

Louisville is about ninety miles from the cave. For the last twenty, the road runs along the banks of the Ohio, passing through the most magnificent forest of beech trees I had ever beheld. There is nothing remarkable in the appearance of Louisville. It is a large and regularly built town, containing 11,000 inhabitants. From this place the larger steam-boats start for New Orleans. Those that come from Pittsburgh are of smaller dimensions, on account of the shallowness of the water. The course of the Ohio, from Pittsburgh to Louisville is about 600 miles, and thence, to its confluence with the Mississippi, is nearly 300 more. The length of the Mississippi, from its junction with the Ohio, is 1200. The falls, or rapids of the Ohio, are immediately below Louisville, and part of them may be seen from the town.

I had been very desirous of seeing St. Louis and the Missouri; but the season was too far advanced, and that part of the country is exceedingly unhealthy during the summer heats. Steam-boats run thither constantly, in three days, from Louisville. There is also a land conveyance, which occupies nearly the same time on the journey, and passes through the great Prairies, in Indiana and Illinois. Wild turkeys are there very plentiful; quails and Prairie-hens are frequently to be seen from the road in great abundance; and I would strongly recommend any traveller who is fond of shooting, and who will put up with very indifferent accommodation, to proceed for about one hundred miles, or even less, by this road, into the Prairies, for the purpose of shooting. It must, however, be added, that he will probably kill much more than he can either eat or carry away.

That there is a great quantity of game in some parts of America is indisputable; but it is equally so, that it is fast decreasing in others. Unless some attention be paid to preserving, deer will become extremely scarce, except in the unsettled country; and the breed of wild turkeys will be extinct, as they are not found much to the west of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers. Go where you will, you are told there is plenty of game of some kind; but the sportsman who relies on this information at this season of the year, while the trees are yet thick with foliage, will be surely disappointed. I have occasionally stayed for a day at different places, where I had been induced to believe that I should find some sport; but I seldom found any game, although I always took with me some person well acquainted with the woods. The want of dogs must certainly be taken into consideration.

The inhabitants of Kentucky may be called the Gasçons of America. They have a humorous, good-natured, boasting, boisterous peculiarity of language and manner, by which they are known in all parts of the Union. To a stranger, they are courteous and hospitable; but amongst themselves, they quarrel and fight, like the Irish, for fun; or merely to see which is the best man, without any provocation; and they evince great partiality for their own state—which they familiarly denominate “Old Kentuck,”—perhaps more than the inhabitants of any other in the Union.

Kentucky was originally used by the Indians as a hunting-field, and for no other purpose. The neighbouring nations agreed never to build upon it.

From Louisville, I proceeded in a steam-boat to Cincinnati, in eighteen hours. About forty miles on this side of the town, we passed the mouth of the stream, so well known by the name of the “Big Bone Lick,” on account of the number of the bones of the mammoth and other animals that have been frequently dug up in its vicinity. There is a sulphur-spring, and a house for the accommodation of visitors. Our distinguished countryman, Mr. Bullock, whom I saw at Cincinnati, had been lately residing on the spot for three months, and had had twenty men constantly employed in digging. He had discovered, amongst other animals, the bones of a smaller and distinct species of migalonyx; an animal having partly the generic character of the armadillo, and partly that of the sloth, and nearly equalling the rhinoceros in size. But the most remarkable remains were those of a young colt, and a gigantic horse, that could not have been less than twenty-four hands high. Unfortunately, however, for the advancement of science, they were all destroyed by a fire, which took place about three weeks before my arrival. The fossil remains of about thirty animals, now supposed to be extinct, have been found at the Big Bone Lick; and Mr. Bullock conjectures that there are no more remaining. That the animals did not perish on the spot, but were carried and deposited by the mighty torrent, which it is evident once swept over the face of the country, is probable, from the circumstance of marine shells, plants, and fossil substances having been found, not only mixed with the bones, but adhering to them, and tightly wedged into the cavities of the skulls—“those holes where eyes did once inhabit,” were often stopped up by shells or pieces of coral, forcibly crammed into them.

From the Big Bone to the Blue Lick, a distance of about sixty miles, there is a buffalo-path. Those animals existed in great numbers in this part of the country, within the memory of many individuals now living. They passed from one favourite spring to the other in vast herds, always pursuing the same path, seldom turning to the right or left, and overturning very young trees, or any slight obstacle that might occur in their line of march. They have, however, long been killed off from the eastern side of the Ohio, and Mississippi; not being seen nearer than within fifty miles of St. Louis. They are found in innumerable herds in the widely extended plains of the Missouri, and towards the region of the rocky mountains. The Indians kill a great many of them, for the sake of their skins, which sell in Philadelphia at four dollars a piece, while that of a bear may be purchased for three. They are so numerous, that this traffic occasions no perceptible difference in the size of the herds. An Indian will drive an arrow so hard that the point will appear on the other side of the buffalo. At certain seasons of the year, their tramping and bellowing may be heard at a vast distance on the plains, by putting the ear to the ground; and in this way, if heard in the morning, incredible as it may appear, it will sometimes be evening before the hunters can come up with them. The bonassus, exhibited some years ago in London, was merely the common American buffalo; which is, strictly speaking, the bison, or animal with the hump, and not the buffalo. The bison is found of different sizes and under different names in Africa, in Asia, in the island of Madagascar, and on the Malabar coast; and exists, as we have seen, in immense numbers in North America; and it will associate with, and breed with tame cattle: but the real buffalo, which has no hump on the shoulder, is not found in the New Continent, but is common in India, and in Africa, near the Cape. I have also seen them in the Pontine marshes, where they are used for agricultural purposes. A marked difference between the buffalo and the bison, from the different varieties of which, it is supposed, that our domestic animals have descended, is to be observed in the fact of the tame cattle refusing to breed with the buffalo, and in the period of gestation in that animal being extended to a whole year.

The navigation of the Ohio and the Mississippi, is often rendered dangerous by the trunks of trees, or snags, as they are called, which, in floating down the stream, get entangled and stick fast in the mud at the bottom; presenting a most formidable, and frequently unseen point near the surface of the water. Our steamer ran upon one of them, but was soon got off again by means of a long spar of wood that was dropped into the water, and then used as a lever, with the side of the boat for a fulcrum, by means of a rope wound about the capstan and fastened to the top of the spar. In the midst of the confusion, an American stepped up to me, and said, “Stranger, I guess we’re in a bad fix!” To be in a good or a bad fix is an expression very commonly made use of in cases of dilemma. Speaking of a man placed in the stocks, for instance, a common American would remark, that he was in a “bad fix,” without the least fear of committing a pun, even at Philadelphia, where the disease is very prevalent. The American error is detected in the formal and decided accentuation of particular syllables in several common words, and in the laughable misuse of many others; and not in any mispronunciation of the language, generally. The word Engine, for instance, is pronounced Engīne; favourite, favourīte; European, Eurōpĕan, &c. A patois, or provincial dialect, such as is heard in the more distant counties in England, is unknown amongst the natives of the United States; and the similarity of language to be heard in every part of the Union that I visited, could not but attract my attention as an Englishman. To travel by the mail, for two or three hundred miles, and to sit beside a coachman who spoke as good English as the one with whom I first started, had certainly, at least I thought so, the effect of shortening the distance.

The education of the poorer classes is very much attended to, excepting perhaps, in the more western states, where the inhabitants think they can get on just as well without it. In the Atlantic states, there is not one person in five hundred (I am speaking of native Americans), that cannot read and write. The mail would often stop opposite a solitary log-house, in the midst of the thickest forest, and throw down a newspaper, which was immediately picked up, and spelled over with the greatest avidity. Most of the back-woodsmen can talk with all reasonable correctness of the state of Europe generally, but the reform bills in England, and the Liverpool rail-road, were always amongst the most prominent subjects of eager inquiry. An Englishman cannot travel a mile in a stage coach in the United States, without being asked whether he has been on the Liverpool rail-road. In Europe, and in France particularly, it is, “Have you seen de tunnel under de Thames?” It is the usefulness in forwarding the prosperity of a country that suggests the American query: whilst with the Frenchman, the use is entirely out of the question; he thinks merely of the magnitude and the novelty of the undertaking, and never fails to remark, that the engineer was a native of France. A great proportion of the inhabitants of the eastern states are Dutch and German. They are very numerous in different parts of Pennsylvania, where they have the character of being good and industrious farmers; but in other respects, they are very ignorant and opinionated, refusing the education that is offered to them gratis for their children, who are, of course, far behind the young Americans in intelligence. I have often, when passing through the forest, stopped to ask a cottager’s child of what country he was. A very frequent answer was, “Please, sir, father’s an Irishman, and mother’s Dutch;” and “I was raised here!” The latter expression is very commonly used when the place of nativity is inquired after. I have been frequently addressed with, Where were you raised, stranger? I guess you’re from the old country? There are about half-a-dozen words in constant use, to which an English ear is unaccustomed, in the sense they are meant to convey, such as—“to fix, to locate, to guess, to expect, to calkilate, &c.” The verb “to fix,” has perhaps as many significations as any word in the Chinese language. If anything is to be done, made, mixed, mended, bespoken, hired, ordered, arranged, procured, finished, lent, or given, it would very probably be designated by the verb “to fix.” The tailor or bootmaker who is receiving your instructions, the barkeeper who is concocting for you a glass of mint-julep, promise alike to fix you, that is, to hit your taste exactly. A lady’s hair is sometimes said to be fixed, instead of dressed; and were I to give my coat or my boots to a servant to be brushed, and to tell him merely “to fix” them for me, he would perfectly understand what he had to do. There is a marked peculiarity in the word “clever.” In America, a man or woman may be very clever without possessing one grain of talent. The epithet is applied almost exclusively to a person of an amiable and obliging disposition. Mr. A. is a man of no talent! no! but then he is a very clever man! According to their meaning, Buonaparte was terribly stupid, and Lord North was a very clever fellow indeed.

To say nothing of their oaths, their expressions are sometimes highly amusing. I have heard a horse described as a “raal smasher at trotting,” and a highway robbery considered as a “pretty middling tough piece of business;” with a vast number more of the same kind. I beg it may be understood, that I mean these remarks to apply chiefly to the middle and lower classes of Americans: the language of every one is perfectly intelligible, and as I have before remarked, there is no patois: I think it should rather be called a “slang.” There is also much less of the nasal twang than I had been taught to expect in American parley. Still I was informed, that many Americans when they hear a man talk, will instantly mention with certainty the country in which he has been long resident, being able to detect some words, accents, or expressions peculiar to each state. The English language does not contain words enough for them. The word congressional is a fair coinage from “Congress,” like the word parliamentary from parliament. But a member of congress is said to be deputized; and a person in danger, to be jeopardized. I remember that about two years ago being in the Jardin des Plantes, I was nearly “cameleopardized” by the giraffe that kicked at me. In New York I observed that a gunmaker had put up over his door, “Flint and steel guns altered and percussionized.” Although the meaning of all this is perfectly understood, still it is American, not English; and although the English language be in use, yet the very un-English construction and distorted meaning of many sentences, render it so different from the language spoken in good society in England, that I do not think it can safely be dignified with the name of good English. But the English spoken in the first circles in all the larger cities of the Union, is usually very good: so that between the language of the English and the American gentleman, the difference is exceedingly slight; but still there is a difference here and there, by which I think any person of observation, who had been in the United States, could decide upon the country of the speaker, unless of course he had resided in England. I should however add, that I have in a few instances met with gentlemen whose language and pronunciation would have deceived any one.

At Baltimore whilst taking a sketch, I told a drunken ill-favoured old nigger, that I would take his picture. He accordingly placed himself in attitude, and I soon hit him off with the camera-lucida. He was very much pleased, and showed the picture to his coloured friends, the slaves, who were working near me. He soon returned with an old black as ugly as himself, and said, that this man wished to have his “title” taken too.

We arrived at Cincinnati, the emporium of commerce, and the largest city in Western America, containing 30,000 inhabitants, and thirty different places of worship. In appearance it differs from most of the larger towns in the United States, on account of the great improvement that has taken place in the colour of the houses, which, instead of being of the usual bright staring red, are frequently of a white grey, or a yellowish tint, and display a great deal of taste, and just ornament. The public buildings are not large, but very neat and classical; I admired the second Presbyterian church, which is a very pretty specimen of the Doric. The streets are handsome, and the shops have a very fashionable air. The principal trade of Cincinnati is in provisions. Immense quantities of corn and grain are sent down the Ohio and the Mississippi to New Orleans. Part of it is consumed by the sugar planters, who are supposed to grow no corn, and part is sent coastwise to Mobile, or exported to the Havannah and the West Indies generally. In the United States, the word “corn” is applied exclusively to the Indian corn or maize, other grain is specified by name as in England. The quantity of flour received in 1831 at New Orleans, amounted to 370,000 barrels, about 150,000 barrels more than had been received in any former year. A great quantity of flour had also been shipped to England, but it is very often soured by the warmth of the water in the Gulf of Mexico. In 1828, the quantity of sugar produced at New Orleans was 88,878 hogsheads of 1000 pounds each, and in 1827, the number of sugar plantations was seven hundred, in which an aggregate capital of 45,000,000 of dollars was invested.

Cincinnati has displayed more wisdom than her opposite neighbour in Kentucky. A speculative system of banking was carried on about the same time, and was attended with the same results as those I have before noticed when speaking of that state. Credit was not to be obtained, commerce was at an end, and grass was growing in the streets of Cincinnati. But the judicature, with equal justice and determination, immediately enforced by its decisions the resumption of cash payments. Many of the leading families in the place were, of course, ruined, and at present there are not above five or six persons in Cincinnati, who have been able to regain their former eminence as men of business. But it was a sacrifice of individuals for the good of the community, and fortune only deserted the speculators in order to attend upon the capitalists, who quickly made their appearance from the eastern states, and have raised the city to its present pitch of prosperity.

Cincinnati professes to have two excellent inns, both of which give promise of every comfort: the table was very good, but my rest was destroyed, not merely disturbed, by the worst of vermin. A clean bed, be it but of straw, is a sine quâ non with an English traveller; and as I did not feel perfectly well after breathing the unhealthy fogs of the Ohio, I had consoled myself with the idea of a comfortable sleep for that night at least. But I was wofully disappointed, being nearly in a fever; and when I was permitted to close my eyes for a few minutes, I dreamed of the most unconnected subjects,—bullfrogs, and universal suffrage, for instance.

I started by the mail, in order to cross the country to Lake Erie. Before we were out of the town, the near leader became unmanageable, and the coach was overturned in the open street. I was on the box, and expected to be kicked to pieces, as I fell close to the horses; but providentially they all four galloped off with the two front wheels, and no one was hurt. It was scarcely day-light—no one was up—the coachman went after the horses, and it fell to my lot to deliver the coach of her nine inside passengers, who scrambled out one by one through the window, guessing and ‘calkilating’ the whole time.

By the evening, we had reached the Yellow Springs; a fashionable watering place, taking its name from the colour imparted to the rocks by the water, which is chalybeate. A large boarding house for the accommodation of visitors is the only building of consequence in the neighbourhood.

At Centreville, about twenty miles from the springs, is, or rather was, for it has been partly destroyed, a remarkably fine Indian fort; being a deep ditch lying between two raised banks, and inclosing a space of three quarters of a mile in circumference, on which the town is built. On the outside is a large mound, which had been lately opened, and was found to contain a number of human bones.

At a distance of nine miles from the springs, on the Sandusky road, stands Springfield, a small thriving town, which like most of those in this part of the country, is exceedingly neat and clean. In the neighbourhood is a considerable number of English settlers, chiefly farmers from Yorkshire. There is no doubt that any man who is able and willing to work for his livelihood, can always, in two or three years, make himself master of a farm, in the back woods, in this or any other part of the Union. The average value of uncleared land, is a hundred dollars for eighty acres. A single man can every where earn at least twelve dollars a month. Provisions are exceedingly cheap; a sheep or a deer, can be purchased for a dollar; wheat may be about two shillings the bushel, and an acre of Indian corn, which is only one shilling the bushel, will produce twice the quantity that is raised on an acre of wheat. It is unfortunate that the common class of British emigrants are too much disposed to believe that a land of liberty is identified with a land of promise, and that when they emigrate to America, no difficulties will ever present themselves. The consequence is, that exaggerated accounts of their first troubles, bearing no proportion to their real privations, are frequently sent home to their friends in England: but I am convinced from my own observation, and occasional colloquy with my emigrant countrymen, that it must be a man’s own fault, however poor he may be at first, if he be not, in a very few years, to use a common phrase, completely above the world; be his occupation what it may. The English and Scotch commonly travel a long way into the western country, where they become farmers and graziers; the Irish prefer remaining in, or near the principal towns, and what is very unusual in Irishmen, they find employment as road-makers, canal-diggers, or bricklayers. Witness the result of free, and protecting institutions.—Fifty years ago, the population westward of the Alleghany did not exceed 15,000; now it amounts to 5,000,000! The population of priest-ridden Mexico has not increased for centuries.

Columbus, the capital of the state of Ohio, contains nearly 4000 inhabitants. Its appearance is very promising, but there is nothing in it to detain the traveller.

At Mansfield I was obliged to remain a day and a half, in consequence of the late rains having rendered the streams impassable. Fortunately I placed myself in very good quarters, at the inn or tavern, where I met with the greatest civility and attention, and far more comfort and cleanliness than is often found at a country inn in the United States. I passed a whole morning unsuccessfully with my gun in the woods. “Well, stranger, are you going gunning this morning?” “Yes; and pray what game is there in the forest here?” I inquired. “Why, sir, there is robin, and some turkey, and considerable squirrel, about sundown.” The robin is a very common bird of the fieldfare genus, with a red breast, a little larger than our redwing. However, I met with no turkey, and contented myself with seeing my companion hit or “scare” (terrify) the squirrels with his rifle. Sassafras, sarsaparilla, and ginseng, are found in these forests. The latter root is so plentiful as to be an article of commerce; great quantities of it are sent to the coast, and exported to China, where, as is well known, it is very highly prized, being considered a panacea.

The last five miles into Sandusky, or Portland, lie over a small prairie; but it is not a good specimen, as the herbage is short, and copses of stunted trees are frequent. Prairies are either dry or wet. The wet prairies are, in fact, nothing but a marsh covered with long grass, and have been so from any indefinite period of time. Of the dry prairies some may have been originally wet, and some may have been cleared by the Indians, for the purpose of using them as hunting fields. But the former supposition, if the fact could be ascertained, would probably, in most cases, be found to be the true one.

The shores of the lake at Sandusky are exceedingly flat. I was fortunate in finding a steam-boat there, which was going to Detroit, Green bay, and the Saut de St. Marie, at the entrance of Lake Superior, and would afterwards return to Buffalo. The “Superior,” as she was called, was, I think, the most comfortable steamer I had yet entered; her upper deck, about one hundred and twenty feet in length, was of great width, and afforded a most excellent promenade. We had on board upwards of sixty passengers, many of whom were ladies; and there was plenty of room for us all, with the advantage of an excellent table, and a small band. The lake afforded us a supply of most delicious fresh water. Soon after leaving Sandusky we passed in sight of Put-in-Bay, in the Bass Islands, forming one of the finest natural harbours to be found any where. Commodore Perry lay at anchor there on the night previous to the 10th of September, 1813, on which day he gained his victory over our fleet in the vicinity. Night soon closed in upon us. We passed Malden, or Amherstburg, as it is more usually called. The British squadron lay at anchor there previously to its engagement with Commodore Perry. A boat pushed off in the darkness, and asked to be taken in tow. “Who are you?” very properly asked the captain. “We, British!” was the ludicrous answer of some French Canadians, and the steamer passed on. A company of the 79th was stationed at Malden. In the morning we found ourselves at Detroit: this place was a considerable French settlement so long ago as the year 1759, when it fell with the Canadas into the possession of the British, and is now increasing with a rapidity to which it is fairly entitled by its situation, on the outlet of the great lakes. The French unquestionably displayed their usual tact and foresight in their choice of the different points of communication in the extensive chain of forts which was originally continued from the Canadas to the Mississippi—the proof is, that all of them are of great importance at the present time. A similar but more enlarged instance of this, the highest grade of military strategy, is to be found in the vigorous and persevering policy of Great Britain, which has secured to her a chain of fortresses by which, as a gallant American General-officer expressed himself to me, “She has check-mated the world.” The master mind of General Bernard, the elève and aid-de-camp of Napoleon, and perhaps the first engineer now living, whom I had the honour of meeting at Washington, has displayed itself in the very extensive and accurate military surveys, which he has taken in almost every part of the United States. The fortifications which he has constructed, have rendered the estuaries of the United States altogether inaccessible to an invading fleet. General Bernard, as is well known, has lately quitted the service of the United States, and returned to France.

The wharfs and buildings at Detroit extend along the river side for about a mile, and exhibit much of the bustle of a commercial town. The streets are spacious and regular,—the largest is more than half a mile in length, and contains some excellent shops and a capital hotel. That part of the bank upon which the city is built, is slightly elevated above the rest of the country, and commands a view which, although generally flat, is far from being uninteresting. The farms are laid out in narrow slips of land, which run parallel to each other, and at right angles to the river, reaching to the edge of the forest, distant about two miles from the city. By this means the first settlers were enabled to build their habitations within a short distance of each other; they had a smaller space of road to keep in repair, and afforded each other a mutual support against the sudden attacks of the Indians. At Detroit, the American General Hull surrendered to General Brock during the last war, but the city was subsequently retaken, previously to the battle of the Thames.

We entered the lake of St. Clair,—about thirty miles in length, and twenty five in breadth; we passed a considerable distance from its banks, but they appeared to be very flat and uninteresting. On the right is the mouth of the river Thames; made remarkable by the victory obtained over the British by a superior force under the American General Harrison. The celebrated Indian chief, Tecumseh, fell in the engagement; and the importance of this victory to the Americans was felt by the dissolution of the hostile Indian confederacy consequent on the death of their leader.

On the left of the entrance to the river St. Clair, is a large wet prairie: on the right are several islands, forming to all appearance but one extensive morass, and abounding in wild fowl. As the channel became narrower, we perceived that the American banks were far more settled than those on the Canada side; but they soon alike presented nothing but a dense mass of forest trees, at a slight elevation above the water.

After moving on for about thirty miles, we arrived at Fort Gratiot at the head of the river; it contained a small garrison, just sufficiently strong to resist an attack from the Indians. The pay of an American private is eight dollars a month, with an allowance of one ration per diem; but his duties are far harder than those of the British soldier, which accounts for the frequency of desertion. A lieutenant in the army receives but sixty dollars a month, after deduction for subsistence, forage, fuel, quarters, and expenses for servants. The pay of a captain after the same deduction, amounts to about eighty dollars a month. The stipend of a naval captain amounts altogether to four thousand four hundred dollars a year; his cabin is furnished better, and the allowance for breakage is more liberal than that of an English officer of the same rank.

I here saw an Indian dance: the performers, an old man and his sons, advanced towards us, on a forest path, looking like wood demons, jumping and racing with each other, and uttering a small shrill cry at intervals; they were nearly naked, bedaubed all over with clay, and began the dance with light clubs in their hands: sometimes they writhed on the ground like snakes, at others they shook their clubs at each other, and used the wildest and most extravagant gestures. The old Indian beat time on a small skin stretched across a piece of hollow tree. When stooping to the ground and looking upwards, his features and figure reminded me of the celebrated statue of the “Remouleur” at Florence.

The whole of this part of America is inhabited by the Chippewas, by far the largest tribe of Indians on the shores of the great lakes. The waters of Lake Huron had been agitated by a furious north wind, and headed directly on the mouth of the river; the current was running with such velocity, that the steam boat did not effect her passage without a long and very severe struggle, and when at last fairly out on the lake, she made so little progress that she was obliged to put back. Some of the passengers amused themselves with fishing, and caught some black bass; as for myself, I proceeded with two Indians in a canoe to the morass opposite the fort, which abounded in wild fowl of all kinds; I contrived to shoot several ducks, notwithstanding the unseasonable cries raised by the Indians in token of their delight, on seeing a bird fall. Their quickness of sight and hearing answered nearly all the purposes of a water spaniel, when I could not immediately find a wounded bird. At length we made another attempt, and entered the vast expanse of Lake Huron. The coast on the right stretched away to the north nearly at right angles; and we gradually lost sight of it. Our course was along the western shore, where the banks were, or seemed to be, a little higher; but still very low, appearing nowhere to exceed thirty feet in height. The unbroken and interminable forest, with which they are covered, contains more game than any other part bordering on the lakes, being less frequented by hunters. The American elk (the wapiti of the Egyptian Hall), the moose, and common deer are found there, with plenty of bears, wolves, and other wild inhabitants of the forest; the moose has the power of remaining under water for a very long time, and, when in danger, has been known to plunge into a pool, and remain at the bottom for more minutes than I care to mention here.

We steered directly for the Saut de St. Marie, at the foot of Lake Superior, and distant two hundred and twenty miles. One mile of the coast on any of these lakes will give a very tolerable idea of the whole of them, with, of course, some exceptions. Yet although there was but little variety in this respect, the voyage was exceedingly interesting. The fineness of the weather, the cool breeze so refreshing after the sultry heat to which I had been exposed, the comparative absence of musquitos, and the ever present recollection that we were sailing on the great lakes of North America, where, comparatively speaking, so few had been before me, gave a tone to the excursion that compensated for more commanding scenery. As we passed Saganaw bay, we were very nearly out of sight of land. The Mannito, or Spirit islands were the next objects that presented themselves to our view: these are supposed by the Indians to be inhabited by spirits, the word mannito in the Indian language, signifying spirit. We then passed Drummond Island, which during the last war contained a British fort and garrison, but has been since abandoned. Some ruins on the large island of St. Joseph were visible from the steam boat; they were the remains of a fort, which was suffered to fall to decay, previously to the fortifications being erected on Drummond’s Island. On the American bank, near the entrance of the river St. Marie, we observed a spot called the Sailor’s Encampment. The forest had been partially cleared away, and there was no vestige of humanity remaining. Some years ago, a sloop was wrecked there; the crew suffered incredible hardships, and many of them died from want, before the survivors contrived to make their escape. We entered a cluster of small islands at the mouth of the river, and I thought this the finest piece of lake scenery I had yet witnessed; as far as I could judge en passant, they appeared to be chiefly composed of gneiss, lying in large masses of rock, resembling those that are so common in some parts of Sweden. In comparing these with the islands of Killarney, and Loch-Lomond, I should remark, that the full rich foliage did not seem complete without the arbutus; and the dark tint of the fir trees, with which they were covered, was not relieved as in the Scottish lake, by the exquisitely delicate appearance of the weeping birch.

It was a remarkably fine evening: as the steamer passed rapidly on, her paddles seemed to take infinite pleasure in defacing the astonished surface of the water, and splashed away through the liquid crystal with as little ceremony as if they had been propelling a mere ferry boat. Every thing besides was hushed and tranquil: the very passengers, who had all assembled near the forward part of the deck, were intensely gazing upon the scene around them; and watched in almost breathless silence, as the vessel rounded each bend in the deep, but comparatively narrow river, that developed in quick succession some new and more beautiful object at every turn. Suddenly we heard the screams of a party of Indians, who had descried us from their wigwams on one of the islands, and were paddling after us in a canoe with all their might. One of them was a chief, who displayed the flag of the United States. In the course of the afternoon, we had been amusing ourselves by shooting with rifles at a bottle attached to a line about forty yards in length; this had been left hanging from the stern, and the endeavours of the Indians to catch hold of the string afforded us no little amusement. Their faces were deeply stained with the red extract from the blood root (Sanguinaria Canadensis); they were in the best possible humour, and their wild discordant laugh, and the still wilder expression of their features, as they encouraged each other to exertion with quickly repeated and guttural exclamations, enabled us to form some idea of their animated appearance, when excited to deeds of a more savage description. By dint of the greatest exertion, they contrived to seize the string; they held on for a moment by it; it snapped, and the canoe was instantly running astern at the rate of seven or eight knots. They again had recourse to their paddles, and used them with redoubled energy; we then slackened our pace for a minute or two, and threw them a rope, by which they soon pulled themselves under the stern. We conversed with them through the medium of an interpreter, and made them presents of bread and spirits. They seemed very thankful, threw us some pigeons which they had killed, and fired a feu-de-joie with their fowling-pieces at parting.

The next morning we came in sight of the Saut, resembling the inclined plane of a large artificial dam. The scenery, though not grand, was decidedly curious and picturesque. On the right are the Canadian settlements, and the original establishments of the north-west company: the left bank is lined by a succession of small neat-looking country houses and white cottages. Near the Saut stands the fort, large enough to contain three companies; but then garrisoned, I believe, with but eighty men. Every thing about it was in excellent order: before our drawing up to the landing-place, we were boarded by several Indians with moccasins (leathern sandals), belts, tobacco pouches, and bark work, for sale.

The Saut de St. Marie most effectually prevents any vessel from ascending the river to Lake Superior, excepting such as are light enough to be towed up. As the steam-boat could not proceed farther, we embarked in canoes on a small canal, which has been cut from the fort to the river above the Saut, and paddled away for the entrance of the lake. Immediately after I had started, my canoe began to leak; she was instantly drawn on shore by the Indians close to a wigwam, and turned keel upwards. A light-coloured pitch, extracted from a species of pine, was boiled in about ten minutes. A piece of canvass was then besmeared with it, and laid over the leak on the outside. Another layer of pitch was followed by another piece of canvass, and then a third and last plaster of the pitch was spread over the whole. In a quarter of an hour she was again launched perfectly water tight. These canoes are of a light and most elegant construction. They are made of birch bark extended over a slight frame of cedar, and fastened or rather sewed to it, by the flexible roots of the young spruce tree. They are usually about fifteen feet in length, and can carry seven or eight persons without danger. Some of them, however, are much larger.

The land on each side of the river presented much the same appearance as that we had hitherto seen. Lake Superior may be fairly said to commence at the Point aux Pins, a flat sandy promontory, distant about six miles from the Saut. Beyond it, the surface of the water is suddenly enlarged to a width of three or four miles; and though the open expanse of the lake is not visible from the Point, yet the high and abrupt ridges of land that rise immediately at the entrance of the lake, and the clear expanse of cloudless sky that was extended beyond them, clearly informed us, that the mighty inland ocean was near at hand. Lake Superior is six hundred and seventy miles in length—of course a vast deal larger than the British Channel,—the water is as clear as crystal, and cool in the hottest weather. Being chiefly supplied by land springs, the quantity of water that falls over the Saut is much greater than that which is poured into the lake by its tributary rivers and streams, which are comparatively small and insignificant. The sailors in the steam-boat would occasionally peel a large potatoe, and throw it in advance of the boat, and by the time she arrived at the spot where it fell, the potatoe has sunk to the depth of thirty or forty feet, but from the clearness of the water, its shape and colour were perfectly distinct.

Of all the different places we touched at on our voyage, the Saut had the strongest claims on our time and attention. We were much mortified at being obliged to leave it the same afternoon. The captain determining to return, contrary, I believe, to the wish of every one on board. Only one or two canoes that had started earlier than the others, were able to proceed farther than the Point aux Pins.