Front matter (continued 2)

I travelled some distance in a northerly direction, between great and little Bureau rivers. The larger stream has a number of mills upon it. The country around here, is too similar to the upper part of the State to need a particular description. High rolling prairies, skirted with timber, every where abound in this region, and present to the eye a most beautiful landscape. It is mostly settled by people from New-England; and they appeared healthy, contented and happy—and are in fact, becoming rich and independent farmers.

One northern man I called upon, whose past and present condition may be similar to many others. I will state it for the edification of those who live on the rocky soil of New-England. While at the north, he lived on a hilly and rocky farm; had a large family, and was obliged to work hard and use the strictest economy, to support them, and meet the current expenses of the year. Tired of severe labor and small gains, he sold his farm and moved to the State of Illinois. He had been here two years; has now one hundred acres under fence; raised the present season fifteen hundred bushels of corn, three hundred of wheat; has seventy head of neat cattle and sixty hogs. He has a fine timber lot near his house, in which is an abundance of the sugar maple. He had killed, the present season, four beef cattle, the last one just before I called upon him; and fatter and better flavored beef I never saw. All the cattle grow exceedingly fat on the prairie grass; so much so that corn will add nothing to it. A saw and grist mill are within seven miles of him. He was getting out timber, and intended to put up a two story house in the spring. I enquired particularly as to the health of his family and neighborhood. He informed me it had been very healthy; his own family had not any of them been sick abed a day, since they came into the country. Two of his daughters are well married, and settled on farms near him. Let every farmer at the north, who has to tug and toil on the sterile and rocky soil of New-England, to support his family, judge for himself, whether it is better to go to the West, or stay where he is. Whether, in fact, it is better to struggle for existence, and feel the cold grasp of poverty, or to roll in plenty and live at ease.

This region was somewhat the theatre of Indian cruelties in the last war with the whites. One northern man became their victim in this settlement. His name was Elijah Philips, of New-Hampshire. When he was at the age of twenty-one, he took his pack on his back, travelled to the West, and located himself in what is called the Yankee Settlement, on the Bureau river. He was a persevering, hardy son of the North. He built a house, fenced in a field, obtained some stock and a few hogs; and was in a fair way to gain a competency and become an independent farmer. Just at this time, the Indian war broke out, with the blood-thirsty Black Hawk as a leader.

Murders having been committed above them, the settlers deemed their situation insecure, and fled to the east side of the Illinois river. After remaining there awhile, the war still raging, and its termination uncertain, seven of the settlers armed themselves with guns and bayonets, took a wagon, and went to the settlement to bring away such articles of household furniture and husbandry as they could; fearing the Indians might destroy them. They spent the day in collecting their articles together. At night, they left them and the wagon where they were, and concluded to go themselves to a house half a mile below, which was deemed more secure. Here they slept quietly all night, opened the door early in the morning, looked all around, but saw no signs of Indians. Philips and another young man said they would go up to the other house and commence loading the wagon. They started off together.

In about twenty rods from the house, the path led along by a point of timber that made out into the prairie; and when they had gone about half way to this point, the other young man stopped, returned back, and Philips passed on alone. He had just got into the house, when he heard a piercing cry of alarm from Philips, and in a moment after, the report of two guns. On running to the door, he saw Philips prostrate on the ground, and twenty or thirty Indians leaping out of the thicket. He rallied his companions, as they had not all yet risen, caught two guns, handed one to a man near him, and by the time they reached the door, the Indians were coming round the corner of the house. On seeing the guns with fixed bayonets, they dodged back. In a moment, they were all at the ends and rear of the house, rending the air with their astounding war cry, flourishing their tomahawks in menace and defiance; but took special care not to come in front of the door. The settlers were all young men—the onset had been so sudden and boisterous, that they were taken entirely by surprise, and hardly knew what they did. On a moment's reflection, they concluded, if they contended manfully, there might be some chance for life. Although the number of Indians might be ten to one of theirs, yet they had the advantage of being within a well built log house, impenetrable by balls.

Spirited and prompt action saved them. While the Indians were hovering round, in doubt what course to take to dislodge them, they dug out a chink between the logs in the rear, and thrust out their guns. The moment this was done, the Indians changed the tone of their yells, leaped for the woods, fell flat on their faces and crawled unperceived away.

They now felt relieved from immediate danger. They knew there was a company of horse at Hennipen, fifteen miles distant; and their only safe course seemed to be, to send for them if they could. They had a horse with them, and he was feeding on the prairie about thirty rods from the house, nearly on the opposite side from the spot where the Indians entered the woods; but as they could not know where they might be, none deemed it prudent to go out to catch him. They called the horse, however, and although he was one generally hard to catch, he now started at once, came to the door, thrust in his head and stood still while the bridle was put on. One of their number mounted, and rode express to Hennipen.

In the afternoon, the troop arrived; reconnoitered the neighborhood; found the Indian trail; followed it a number of miles; but they had gone beyond their reach. On a further examination of the woods, it was apparent, the Indians had been hovering around them all the day before while at work; but were too cowardly to attack them, although they knew the smallness of their number.

The situation of affairs at night they also knew full well. They truly supposed that all would pass the spot where they lay in ambush, in the morning. But accidentally, one passed alone, and discovered them, and was undoubtedly the cause of saving the lives of all the rest. But had the other young man passed on instead of returning, and why he did not, he never could tell, although the question was asked him immediately after the transaction, he also would have been killed; and in that event, probably all the others would have been sacrificed; for it was quite early in the morning, and they had not risen.

On examining Philips, they discovered that two musket balls had entered his body—one in the region of the heart, so that he must have died immediately. His remains were carried to Hennipen for interment; and when I passed that way, I stopped at his grave to show, what I felt, respect to his memory. On a small eminence in the open prairie, half a mile east of the village, repose the remains of Elijah Philips. And although no monumental inscription tells the spot where he so suddenly started for eternity, or "storied urn" adorns his grave; although of humble birth, yet he was a young man of much vigor and enterprise, and bid fair to become a useful member of society. Let his memory live "in story and in song," and be handed down to posterity with that of the other victims of savage cruelty.

No apprehensions are now entertained by the settlers, of attacks by the Indians. Black Hawk and his followers have gone beyond the Mississippi, and only a few remnants of Indian tribes remain in the whole State. Years will not efface the memory of the many deeds of extreme cruelty, committed by the Indians in this short, yet bloody war. Acts of cruelty and outrage were perpetrated, too horrid and indecent to mention; and so perfectly useless as it respected the result of the war, that they could have been committed only to glut a most fiend-like and savage vengeance.

I cannot admire the Indian character. They are sullen, gloomy and obstinate, unless powerfully excited, and then, they exhibit all the antics of madmen.

CHAPTER VIII.

After spending a few days viewing the country in this vicinity, I again crossed the river at Hennipen, and passed on to the stage road. The next day, I took the stage, and went to Peoria, the county seat of Peoria county, which stands on the site of fort Clark. This is quite a village. It is regularly laid out on a beautiful prairie, on the western bank of the Illinois river; has a brick court house, two taverns, a dozen stores, and about twenty dwelling houses, some of them quite elegant. It is eighty miles from Ottawa, one hundred and sixty from Chicago, one hundred and fifty from Galena, one hundred and fifty by land and two hundred by water from St. Louis.

The river here swells out to more than a mile in width, and the opposite shore is low, marshy land. Peoria seems to be subject to bilious fevers and the fever and ague; but I could perceive no cause for its being unhealthy, unless it was the river and marshy land on the other side. The water is brought to the village in an aqueduct, from a high bluff, half a mile back of it, and appeared to be excellent. A number of deaths had occurred, previous to my arrival; and I saw a number of pale-faced invalids.

In coming to this place, I passed over a fine country, much more settled, with larger fields and more extensive improvements than I found in the upper part of the State; but still it was diversified with rolling prairies and groves of timber. While the mail was changing at one of the post offices, I passed on and came to a log school house, where all the scholars studied aloud. This was quite a novelty to me. More discordant sounds never grated on the ear; and if the master had a musical one, he must have been severely punished. I asked him, if his scholars commonly studied in that manner; and he said they did, although he thought they now hollowed a little louder than usual. This inconvenient practice of some of our ancient schools, I supposed had been entirely done away; but on enquiry, I was informed it still held its sway to some extent in many of the western States.

Stages run from Peoria (through Springfield), to St. Louis, to Galena, and to Chicago. There is a rope ferry just below the village, where the river is narrow. It is a place of a good deal of business, quite a thoroughfare for travellers; and it is supposed by some that it will shortly become the seat of the State government. I spent three days here, then took passage on board a steamboat for St. Louis.

I have often remarked, that the amount taxed by taverners, is, generally, in an inverse proportion to their accommodations; that is, the less they furnish their guests, the more they charge. In my present trip, I have more than once been reminded of an anecdote related to me some time ago, of a tavern keeper at the south. A gentleman with his family, travelling in the westerly part of Virginia, was obliged one night to put up at one of the small country taverns, more suited to the accommodation of the teamster who sleeps in his wagon, than to the entertainment of gentlemen and ladies. They were furnished with the best the house afforded, but it was mean in kind and badly prepared. Some of them were obliged to sleep on the floor, and those that were accommodated with beds, were exceedingly annoyed by the insects they contained. The gentleman arose early, ordered his carriage and asked the landlord the amount of his bill. He told him, thirty dollars! The gentleman stared; but at length asked him, what he had had to the amount of thirty dollars, or even five dollars. The landlord very politely assured him that his was a reasonable charge, for says he, I hire this establishment at the annual rent of thirty dollars, and this I must charge to my customers; the year is almost out, and you are the only available guest I have had; therefore I have charged the whole amount to you. The gentleman laughed heartily; and considering it too good a joke to be spoiled by any fault on his part, very pleasantly handed him over the thirty dollars. He that travels much in the world, may have occasion to fear the rent day is near at hand. This frank explanation of the Virginia landlord has furnished an easy solution to some tavern bills I have paid, that otherwise would have been entirely inexplicable; and perhaps it may be equally useful to other travellers.

The Illinois river is a wide, sluggish stream; clear water, but generally, hardly any perceivable current. It is a very shoal river, having many sand bars.—Our boat did not draw more than two feet of water, yet was continually running aground. I should think the lead was thrown a quarter part of the time; and it used to amuse me, sometimes, to hear the leadsman sing out "two feet and a half"—"two feet large"—"two feet"—"two feet scant,"—and then aground; and perhaps it would be half a day before we could get afloat again. We were seven days going to St. Louis—rather slow travelling, and somewhat vexatious; we thought, however, we might as well be merry as sad, so we made the best of it. The captain had as much reason as any of us to complain; for we took a cabin passage, and he had to board us, however long the passage might be. All along down, the country is rather low, except some bluffs on the river—and where we found a bluff on one side, there would be either a low marsh or a lake on the other. Probably, there are twenty lakes below Peoria, on one side or the other of the river. They were all long and narrow, and often had an outlet into the river. They appeared more like former beds of the stream, than any thing else.

Pekin is twenty miles below Peoria, on a high bluff, the east side of the river, having two taverns, thirty houses, and a large steam flour mill. Sixty miles below this, on the same side of the river, is a large village called Beardstown. Here are large flour mills, saw mill, &c. all carried by steam.—Twenty miles below this, is a small village called Naples.

As we approached the Mississippi, we saw a good many stately bluffs on the right hand bank, composed of limestone, and rising almost perpendicular, from two to three hundred feet high. Some of them are really grand and beautiful.

At length, with no small degree of pleasure, we came in full view of the majestic Mississippi river. The moment our boat entered the stream, it felt its power, and started off with new life and vigor. It seemed something like travelling, after leaving the sand bars and sluggish current of the Illinois, to be hurried down the Mississippi at the rate of eight or ten miles an hour.

We soon reached Upper Alton, a large flourishing village of recent origin. Here, are large steam flour mills, and large warehouses; and in the centre of business is located the State Prison! There is no accounting for taste; but it appeared to me rather singular, to see a prison of convicts brought forward into the centre of a village to be exhibited as its most prominent feature. The reason may have been, to keep it constantly in view as a "terror to evil doers." This is the last town we stopped at in Illinois—and on taking leave of the State, I may be allowed to add a few words respecting it.

CHAPTER IX.

Illinois is three hundred and fifty miles in length; one hundred and eighty in breadth; and lies between thirty-seven and a half, and forty-two and a half degrees north latitude. It contains fifty thousand square miles—equal to forty millions of acres. It is divided into fifty-five counties, and, probably, now contains more than two hundred thousand inhabitants. All the streams, lakes and marshes are lined with a fine growth of timber, sometimes a mile or two in width, and sometimes merely a narrow strip. And as the southern part of the State contains the most low, wet land, it has also the most timber. The high land is generally prairie; but there are some exceptions to this. I found quite a number of beautiful groves of timber on high land; sometimes there were only scattering trees, called oak openings.

It is probably as level as any State in the Union. At the northwest of Shawneetown, there is a range of hills; and high bluffs are seen along the banks of the Mississippi and Illinois rivers. In the mineral regions at the northwest corner of the State, there are high hills, and the land is somewhat broken; but the largest portion of the State is composed of gently rolling prairies. These prairies are some of them level and wet, but generally, they are high, dry and gently undulating. They all have an exceedingly fertile soil, and are covered with tall coarse grass and a great variety of beautiful flowers. The soil is a rich, black loam, entirely inexhaustible, and produces abundant crops without the aid of manure. In some of the old settled towns at the lower part of the State, the same spot of ground has been cultivated with Indian corn for a hundred years, and it now produces equally as well as it did at first. In the time of strawberries, thousands of acres are reddened with this delicious fruit. But this country, which so delightfully strikes the eye, and has millions of acres that invite the plough, wants timber for fuel, building and fences. It wants good water in many places, and in too many instances, the inhabitants want health. These evils will probably all be remedied by the expedients of cultivation. Bricks will be used for building; coal and peat will be used for fuel; hedges and ditches will be made for fences; forests will be made to grow on the prairies; and deep wells will be sunk for pure water.

There is a fine tract of rich level land extending along the eastern shore of the Mississippi about eighty miles in length, and from three to six miles in width. It commences near New-Alton, and terminates a little below Kaskaskia. About half of its width bordering on the river, is covered with a heavy growth of timber; the remainder is a level prairie; and in the rear it is bordered by a stately bluff of limestone. It is undoubtedly the richest land in the world. Settlements have been made upon it to some extent, but it is not very healthy. It is called the American Bottom. A bottom very similar to this, either on one side or the other, marks the whole course of the Illinois river.

More than five millions of acres have been surveyed, between the Mississippi and Illinois rivers, and assigned by Congress for military bounty lands. These lands embrace all the varieties of soil found in the State—rich bottoms, swamps, prairies, timbered lands, high bluffs and barrens. The northeast part of it is deemed the most pleasant and healthy.

On Rock river, the Kaskaskia, Wabash, Fox, Du Page, Macoupin and Sangamon are large tracts of first rate land. And very similar to this, are Grand prairie, Mound prairie, the Marine Settlement prairie, and the one occupied by the New-England Christians.

In the region of Sangamon river, nature has delighted to bring together her happiest combinations of landscape; being beautifully variegated with woodland and lawn, like sunshine and shade. It is generally a level country; the prairies are not too extensive, and timber abounds in sufficient quantity to support a dense population. In this beautiful section of the new world, more than two hundred families, from New-England, New-York and North Carolina, fixed their habitations before it was surveyed. The land is exceedingly rich and easily cultivated. It now constitutes a number of counties and is probably as thickly settled as any part of the State. The Sangamon itself is a fine boatable river, and has throughout its whole course, pure, transparent water and a sandy bottom. It enters the Illinois river on the easterly side, about one hundred and forty miles above its mouth.

The Kaskaskia river has a long course in the central part of the State, and the lands upon its borders are happily diversified with hill, vale, prairie and forest. On its banks are Kaskaskia, the former seat of government, and Vandalia, the present metropolis.

The region of Rock and Fox rivers is a beautiful and healthy portion of the State. The land is rich; the prairies are high, dry and gently undulating and surrounded by excellent timber. The only faults are, the prairies are too large for the quantity of timber, and there are not a sufficient number of springs and small streams of water. But it is a very pleasant and desirable portion of the country, and I believe more emigrants are now directing their course thither, than to any other portion of the State. It has one advantage over all the western section of country, it is more healthy. I believe it is as healthy as any portion of the United States.

Although there are some bodies of sterile and broken land in the State, yet as a whole, it contains a greater proportion of first rate land than any other State in the Union; and probably as great according to its extent as any country on the face of the globe. One of the inconveniences attending this extensive rich country, is too great a proportion of prairies. They cover more than half of the whole State.—But the prevalence of coal and peat, and the ease with which forest trees may be raised, will render even these extensive prairies habitable.

The original cause of these extensive prairies in all the western and southern country is altogether a matter of conjecture. There is no natural impediment in the soil to the growth of forest trees over the whole extent of the country. It is certain that the fire is the cause of continuing them in existence; for where the fire is kept out, trees spring up in them, in a few years, and their growth is vigorous and rapid.

There are many reasons for the belief, that this western country was once inhabited by a more civilized race of beings, than the present hordes of wild Indians. Specimens of fine pottery and implements of husbandry have been found in various parts of the country; and brick foundations of a large city have lately been discovered in the territory of Arkansas. These, together with the stately mounds and remains of extensive fortifications, indicate that the country was once inhabited by a race of men, who cultivated the soil for a subsistence, and were well acquainted with the mechanic arts. From whence this race of beings came, or whither they went, is alike unknown to us. Since they left, the fire has made the cleared land much more extensive. The fire, in very dry weather, and accompanied by a high wind, after scouring over the prairies, takes to the woodland and destroys the timber. Last fall, I saw hundreds of acres of woodland, so severely burnt over, that I had no doubt the trees were generally killed. But in some places, the forest gradually gains upon the prairie; and could the fire be kept within proper bounds, the western country would soon have an abundant supply of timber. But this cannot well be done. The Indian sets the prairie afire, for the conveniency of hunting—the emigrant sets it afire, so that the fresh grass may spring up for his cattle; and so between them both, they all get burnt over. And when once kindled, the fire goes where the wind happens to drive.

This State has great advantages for inland navigation by means of its rivers. On the east, it is washed by the Michigan lake and Wabash river; on the south, by the Ohio, and on the west, by the Mississippi. The most important river within the State is the Illinois. It rises near the south end of lake Michigan, runs in a southerly direction about three hundred miles, and falls into the Mississippi, thirty miles above St. Louis. Its two chief head branches are the Kankakee and Oplane; this latter river runs within twelve miles of the lake, and the space between is a low, wet prairie, so that it might easily be connected with its waters. From the north, comes in the Du Page, a larger stream than the Oplane. At Ottawa, eighty miles south of Chicago, comes in Fox river. This is by far the largest tributary of the Illinois, and at their junction is nearly equal to it in size. In all descriptions of the State, mention is hardly made of Fox river; but it is the next in size to the Illinois and Rock rivers, and is one of the most beautiful streams in the whole State. It rises in the territory west of lake Michigan, runs with a lively current, in a very straight channel, from its source to its mouth. It heads in a lake, and this accounts for the fact, that it is not, like other streams, subject to freshets. It is generally fordable—the water is not more than about three feet deep, and the bottom is sand and pebbles. It is a clear stream, abounding in fish, and withal, passes through the most healthy part of the State.

On the west side, nearly opposite Hennipen, comes in the Bureau river. This is a good mill stream, and is composed of two branches, the one called Great and the other Little Bureau; and these branches join about five miles west of the Illinois. These branches, on the maps, bear the names of Robertson's and James' river, but for what reason I know not. On this river is a large settlement of northern people, and many families from the State of New-Hampshire. Below this, the most material tributaries are the Vermillion and Sangamon from the east, and Spoon river from the west. Whatever others may say, I cannot call the Illinois a pleasant stream. It has a marsh on one side or the other from its mouth to its source, and is full of shoals and sand bars. I passed down the river in a boat that drew less than two feet water, but it often run aground. The worst bar is just below Beardstown. We had to lighten the boat of its freight, water in the boiler, and passengers, before we could pass this bar; and then, the hands had to jump into the water and push the boat over. For about two hundred miles from its mouth, it has many long and narrow lakes, of about the width of the river itself; and probably they were formerly its channel. These lakes generally have an outlet into the river, and these so much resemble it, that a person not well acquainted with the stream, would be puzzled to know what channel to take. The river occupies too much ground for its quantity of water, and for about half of the year, it is a difficult stream to navigate.

Rock river rises beyond the northern limits of the State in the high lands which separate the waters of the Mississippi from those of lake Michigan. It is a large, beautiful stream, has a lively current, and enters the Mississippi fifty miles below Galena. In the Mississippi near its mouth, is a beautiful island, on which is situated fort Armstrong.

The other principal streams which enter the Mississippi are Fever river, Parasaw, Kaskaskia, and Cahokia. No large streams enter the Ohio or the Wabash, from this State; but some of them are navigable by keel boats.

In the region of Galena are the richest lead mines in the world. Copper ore has also been discovered. The State abounds in mineral coal, which is excellent for the grate. It burns freer than the Pennsylvania coal, and emits much more light. Salt is made in large quantities at the salt works, near Shawneetown.

In the southern part of the State, cotton will grow in a favorable year, and it is cultivated to some extent for family use. This conclusively shows a milder climate than in New-England. In the northern section, in the region of the vast prairies and lakes, the wind sometimes blows strong and keen in the winter. It is not subject to the strong chilly easterly winds so severely felt along the Atlantic coast. During the year, the climate is undoubtedly more mild than that of New-England. Apple, pear and peach trees grow vigorously and produce abundantly. In the spring of the year the air becomes fragrant with the blossoms of fruit trees and wild flowers.

The soil and the climate are well suited to the production of wheat, Indian corn, potatoes, and all garden vegetables. The crops are abundant and of an excellent quality. The prairies every where abound in wild grass, and afford an inexhaustible range for cattle, horses and sheep. The grass is very nutricious, and it may with truth be said, there is not a finer grazing country in the world.

The most prevalent diseases are bilious fevers and the fever and ague. These are caused by stagnant water and swamps. Removed from these, good health is generally enjoyed. The consumption, the scourge of New-England, is never known in all the western country. In some parts of the lower section of the State, the inhabitants have been afflicted with a disease called milk sickness. It, in the first place, affects the cattle, and never occurs until the frosts of autumn. These frosts kill the grass on the high prairies, and induce the cattle to go into the low bottoms and woods, where vegetation remains green. It has been discovered that the disease is caused by the cattle's eating a poisonous vine which grows luxuriantly in these bottoms. After eating this vine, the animal appears weary and faint, travels with difficulty, droops, and at length dies. If men or animals partake of the milk of the cows, when they are thus disordered, they are affected in the same manner. Men, however, sometimes recover. This disease is not confined to Illinois. Near the rich bottom lands in Indiana and Missouri, animals and men have been affected with it. In the northern half of the State, I was informed, that not an instance of milk sickness had ever been known.

There are no large towns in Illinois, but quite a number of flourishing villages. Danville, near the eastern line of the State, is quite a flourishing town; and here the land office for the northern section is kept. It is one hundred and thirty miles south of Chicago, and it is supposed, that the office will shortly be removed to that place. Springfield, situated on a branch of the Sangamon river, is near the centre of the State, and is a large, flourishing village. It is sixty miles south of Peoria, about thirty east of the Illinois river; and it is highly probable that it will become, shortly, the seat of the State government. The most important towns on the Mississippi river, are Galena, Quincy, Alton, Edwardsville, and Kaskaskia; on the Ohio river, are Trinity, America and Shawneetown; on the Wabash, are Palmyra, Lawrenceville, Palestine, Sterling, &c. and in the interior, besides those we have before mentioned, are Vandalia, the present seat of the State government, Jacksonville, Maysville, Hillsborough, Salem, and many other small villages; besides quite a number of paper towns, that may in time have a "local habitation," in addition to their high sounding names.

Chicago is now the largest town in the State; and as it is favorably situated for trade, it will probably continue to take the lead in time to come.—Vandalia, the present seat of government, is pleasantly situated on a high bank of the Kaskaskia river. Respectable buildings for the accommodation of the government and the courts have been erected. The village contains about a hundred houses; some of them, built of brick and elegant.

Kaskaskia is the oldest town in the State. It is pleasantly situated on an extensive plain upon the bank of the river of the same name, and eleven miles from its mouth. It was settled as early as Philadelphia, by the French, and once contained seven thousand inhabitants; but now it numbers not more than one thousand. This was formerly the seat of government; it was removed to Edwardsville, then to Vandalia; but it will probably be destined to take one more remove, either to Springfield or Peoria.

Galena, on the Mississippi, near the northwest corner of the State, began to be settled in 1826. It is three hundred and fifty miles north of St. Louis, and about one hundred and fifty west of Chicago. It now contains between one and two thousand inhabitants, forty-two stores and warehouses, and two hundred houses. It is the seat of justice for the county, and has ten thousand inhabitants in its vicinity.

The same provisions here for schools have been made as in the other western States. In addition to one thirty-sixth part of all the public lands, three per cent. on all the sales is added to the school fund. It is in contemplation to establish an university. For this purpose a sixth part of the school fund and two entire townships have been appropriated. Rock Spring theological school, under the superintendence of the Baptists, is a respectable academy in the Turkey Hills' Settlement, seventeen miles east of St. Louis. It has fifty students.[1] Primary schools are found in the villages and populous neighborhoods; but in many places there is much need of them.

The representatives and senators are chosen once in two years; the governor and lieutenant governor in four years. The judiciary consists of a supreme court and other county courts. All free white male citizens, who have resided in the State six months, are entitled to the right of suffrage; and they vote at elections viva voce.

CHAPTER X.

The prairies in the western country are all burnt over once a year, either in spring or fall, but generally in the fall; and the fire is, undoubtedly, the true cause of the continuance of them. In passing through the State I saw many of them on fire; and in the night, it was the grandest exhibition I ever saw. A mountain of flame, thirty feet high, and of unknown length, moving onward, roaring like "many waters"—in a gentle, stately movement, and unbroken front—then impelled by a gust of wind, suddenly breaks itself to pieces, here and there shooting ahead, whirling itself high in air—all becomes noise, and strife, and uproar, and disorder. Well might Black Hawk look with indifference on the puny exhibition of fireworks in New-York, when he had so often seen fireworks displayed, on such a gigantic scale, on his own native prairies.

A prairie storm of fire is indeed terrific. Animals and men flee before it, in vain. When impelled by a strong breeze, the wave of fire passes on, with the swiftness of the wind; and the utmost speed of the horse lingers behind. It then assumes a most appalling aspect; roars like a distant cataract, and destroys every thing in its course. Man takes to a tree, if he fortunately can find one; sets a back fire; or, as a last resort, dashes through the flame to windward, and escapes with life; although often severely scorched; but the deer and the wolf continue to flee before it, and after a hot pursuit, are run down, overwhelmed and destroyed.

Much caution should be used, in travelling over an open prairie country, in the fall of the year, when the grass is dry. Instances were told me, of the entire destruction of the emigrant and his family by fire, while on the road to their destined habitation.

I had heard much of the backwoodsmen, and supposed, of course, I should find many of them in Illinois; but after diligent search, I found none that merited the appellation. The race has become extinct. Who are the inhabitants of Illinois? A great portion of them, from the north, recently settled there, and of course, possessing the same hospitality, sobriety and education as the northern people. They went out from us; but they are still of us. A person will find as good society there, as here; only not so much of it. The upper house on Fox river settlement, was occupied by an intelligent and refined family, recently from Massachusetts.

Meeting houses and school houses are rare, owing to the sparseness of the inhabitants; but the country is settling rapidly, and these deficiencies will soon be supplied. Indeed, so rapidly is the country settling, that in writing this account of it, I sometimes feel like the man who hurried home with his wife's bonnet, lest it should be out of date, before I could get it finished.

Emigrants, going to settle at the West, with their families, would do well to take their beds, bedding, a moderate supply of culinary utensils, the most essential of their farming tools, and a good supply of clothing. These articles are all high there, and somewhat difficult to be obtained. The more cumbersome of household furniture, such as chairs, tables, bedsteads, &c. are not so essential; because their place can be supplied by the ruder articles of domestic manufacture. In the new settlements, most of the families had chairs or benches, tables and bedsteads, made on the spot by the husbandmen.

Provisions are cheap, but vary in price according to the demand. Corn, at Beardstown, is worth twelve and a half cents a bushel; at Hennipen, twenty-five cents; and on Fox river, fifty cents; and other articles in proportion.

When the settler arrives at his location, his first business is to build a log house, which is soon done; then fence in a field, and it is ready for the plough. The prairie breaks up hard at first, requiring four yoke of oxen; but after the first breaking, a single horse can plough it. A good crop is produced the first year; but better in succeeding years. He had better hoe his Indian corn. It keeps the ground clear of weeds, and increases the crop; but half of the cornfields are not hoed at all.

In the fall of the year, he must take especial care that his crops, stacks of hay, fences, &c. are not burnt, in the general conflagration of the prairies. To prevent this, as good a method as any is to plough two or three furrows around his improvements, and at a distance of about two rods plough as many more; and in a mild day, when the grass is dry, burn over the space between. If he neglects this, he must keep a good look out in a dry and windy day. If he sees a smoke to windward, it will not do to wait until he can see the fire; he must summon all hands, and set a back fire. With a strong breeze, fire will sometimes run over the dry prairies faster than a horse. The inhabitants are often too negligent in this particular. While I was there, a number of stacks of hay and grain, and two or three houses were burnt, from the mere negligence of their owners.

But I must bid adieu to the beautiful State of Illinois. To the practical husbandman, and to the enthusiastic admirer of the beauties of nature, it is alike attractive; and in which, they both will find ample scope for the exercise of the powers of body and of mind.

After two or three hours stay at Alton, we started down the stream; and in seven miles, came to the mouth of the turbid Missouri. Here, two mighty rivers join their forces, and rolling on with irresistible power, for thirteen hundred miles, mingle with the waters of the ocean. The great Missouri, after traversing a vast extent of country, in various directions, here bears directly down upon the Mississippi; but the latter, like a coy maiden, shrinks back, recoils at his approach, and seems to decline the rude embrace; and they travel on together for forty miles, before the Missouri can unite its muddy waters with those of the clear and transparent Mississippi. Here, the Missouri, having at length gained the complete mastery, holds throughout its undisputed sway; and gives its own peculiar complexion to the united stream.

The appearance is, indeed, quite singular; to see the two rivers passing along, side by side, in the same channel, such a long distance, without mingling their waters; and the line, between the muddy and clear water, is so well defined and distinctly marked, that it can readily be seen from the shore.

On the western bank of the river, seventeen miles below the mouth of the Missouri, is the town of St. Louis. The view was fine and imposing, as we approached it by water; and it is the most pleasantly situated of any town on the banks of the Mississippi. It stands on an elevated plain, which gradually rises from the water, to its western extremity. Back of it, there is a level and extensive prairie, and above the village, are a number of stately Indian mounds. St. Louis is the most important town in all the western country; and there is not a town in the world, such a distance from the sea, that in commercial advantages can at all compare with it. When we consider its situation, near the junction of two mighty rivers, the one navigable twenty-five hundred miles, the other one thousand, and the large navigable branches of each, and see that this place must be the centre of trade for the whole, it requires not the gift of prophecy to designate this spot, as the site of the greatest city of the West. It is now a large town, chiefly built of brick; has a brisk trade; and probably contains seven or eight thousand inhabitants. There was a time, when the only craft on the river was keel boats, and the transportation of goods, arduous and expensive. Then, this place struggled slowly into existence, and sometimes remained stationary, or rather declined; but the introduction of steamboats started it into newness of life and vigor. Its trade is now daily extending itself, and the town is continually increasing in population and buildings. A dozen steamboats were lying at the landing—some bound high up on the rivers; others, to Pittsburgh and New-Orleans. This seems to be a sort of "half way house," between the upper and lower country; being a place of general deposit for goods, destined either way. And St. Louis will never have to contend with a rival; for there is no other suitable spot near the junction of the two rivers, to locate a city. She will, therefore, continue to increase in size, wealth and beauty, and remain in all time to come, the undisputed "Queen of the West."

There is a land office kept at St. Louis; and plenty of government land to be obtained for a dollar and a quarter an acre. It is chiefly settled by Americans; but French settlers are found, and in St. Louis there are a large number. Considerable trade in peltries is carried on with the Indians, who come to the principal towns and exchange their skins for goods. They are continually seen in the streets of St. Louis.

St. Louis has a theatre, and we attended it.—Quite a decent edifice, a tolerable play, and a full and fashionable audience. I could perceive no essential difference between this assembly and those of Boston or New-York. Good society is found here. The streets at night were quiet; or only disturbed by the sound of the violin on board the flat boats, or the merry boatman's song. The sky was serene, the air mild, and we had many a pleasant walk through the town and its environs. Indeed, there is a peculiar balmy softness in the air, grateful to the feelings, not to be found in our northern climate. St. Louis is a pleasant place; and were it not for the stacks of bar lead on the shore, and some slight peculiarities in the customs of its inhabitants, it could hardly be distinguished from an eastern city. A steam ferry boat plies between this place and the opposite shore, and affords a large profit to its owner.

CHAPTER XI.

Missouri contains sixty thousand square miles, being two hundred and seventy miles in length and two hundred and twenty in breadth. It lies on the west side of the Mississippi river, between thirty-six and forty degrees north latitude. It now contains, probably, one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom thirty thousand are slaves.

A large tract of this State, commencing at its south end, extending up the Mississippi river above the mouth of the Ohio, and running into the interior, possesses rich alluvial soil, but is low, swampy, full of lakes, and much of it, subject to overflow. Beyond this to the west, the country is broken and hilly; sometimes covered with a small species of oak, and sometimes naked sandy hills and plains.—The whole southerly half of the State, offers but small inducements to the farmer. Where the soil is rich, it is too low and unhealthy; where it is high, dry and healthy, it is too barren and sterile to be cultivated. The best portion of the State lies between the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. This section is the most settled of any part of the State. Its surface is delightfully variegated and rolling, and possesses large tracts of rich alluvial and high prairies. The soil contains a greater proportion of sand, than that of the other western States; so that it is easily cultivated, and is never disagreeably muddy. There are spots where we find the stiff clayey soil of Ohio and New-York; but they are not extensive. No part of the globe, in a state of nature, can so easily be travelled over in carriages as this. Even in spring, the roads cannot be called muddy or difficult to pass. There are two extensive tracts of heavily timbered upland, similar to those of Ohio and Kentucky—the one is called the Bellevue, the other the Boone's Lick Settlement. The surface rolls gently and almost imperceptibly. In this region are many springs of good water, and it is said to be healthy.

The Mississippi is skirted with a prairie, commencing ten miles above the mouth of the Missouri, for the distance of seventy miles. It is about five miles in width, and possesses an excellent soil.

There are no prairies of any considerable size on the borders of the Missouri, within the limits of the State; but its banks are generally covered with a beautiful growth of tall, straight forest trees. The bottom land on this river is about four miles in width, is sufficiently mixed with sand to prevent its being muddy, and is not subject to be overflowed. There are no bayous, ponds or marshes on the margin of the Missouri. The bottoms are now considerably settled for four hundred miles above its mouth. Charaton, over two hundred miles up the river, is the highest compact settlement. But the largest and most populous settlement in the State is Boone's Lick, in Franklin county. This is one hundred and eighty miles above the mouth of the river. Scattered settlements are, however, found along the river banks for six hundred miles, to the Council Bluffs. Above the Platte, which is the largest tributary of the Missouri, the prairies come quite in to the banks of the river, and extend on either hand, farther than can be measured by the eye. This is the general complexion of the river banks until you reach the Rocky mountains.

As far as the limits of this State extend, the river is capable of supporting a dense population for a considerable distance from its banks. Above these limits, it is generally too destitute of wood and water to become habitable by any people, except hunters and shepherds. All the tributaries of the Missouri are generally copies of the parent stream, and one general remark will apply to the whole. They all have narrow margins of excellent bottom land; and as the country recedes from these, it becomes more and more sandy, barren and destitute of water, until it resembles the deserts of Arabia.

Wheat and corn are generally the chief productions, and the soil is excellent for both. The whole western country is remarkable for withstanding the severest droughts. A crop has never been known to fail in the driest seasons. From twenty-five to thirty bushels to the acre is an average crop of wheat, and from fifty to seventy-five, of corn.—The good lands in Missouri produce corn in as great perfection as in any part of the world. It is warm, loamy land, and so mellow that it is easily cultivated. Even where the sand appears to predominate, great crops are produced. The soil, in the vicinity of the Missouri, is more pliant, and less inclined to be muddy, than that on the banks of the Mississippi. Rye, barley, oats, flax, hemp, tobacco, melons, pumpkins, squashes and all garden vegetables flourish remarkably well. Peaches, pears, plums, cherries, &c. grow to great perfection. The land seems well adapted to the use of plaster, and this is found of excellent quality, in inexhaustible quantities, on the banks of the Missouri.

Beyond all countries, this is the land of blossoms. Every prairie is an immense flower garden. In the spring, their prevailing tint is that of the peach blossom—in summer, of a deeper red—then a yellow—and in autumn, a brilliant golden hue.

The natural productions of the soil are abundant. The red and yellow prairie plum, crab apples, pawpaws, persimons, peccans, hazelnuts and walnuts are generally found in perfection and abundance. Wild hops cover whole prairies; and two or three species of grapes are found in various parts of the State. The heats of summer and dryness of the atmosphere render this suitable for the cultivation of the vine. Silk might also be raised in great abundance, as the mulberry tree is every where found among the trees of the forest. Near New-Madrid, cotton is cultivated.

Bears, wolves and panthers are found here. The prairie wolf is the most numerous and mischievous. Deer, as the Indians retire, grow more plenty, and are frequently seen in flocks feeding near the herds of cattle. There is a species of mole found here, and indeed in all the western and southern country, called gopher. These animals live in communities, and build small eminences of a circular form and about a foot high. They are mischievous in potatoe fields and gardens.

Rattlesnakes, copper heads, and ground vipers are found in the unsettled regions; especially, near flint knobs and ledgy hills. They are not so common as in more timbered regions. It is probable that the burning of the prairie destroys great numbers of them. The waters are covered with ducks, geese, swans, brants, pelicans, cranes and many other smaller birds. The prairie hen and turtle dove are numerous.

The domestic animals are the same as in other States. This State and Illinois have decided natural advantages for the rearing of cattle, horses, hogs and sheep.

A distinguishing feature in the climate, is in the dryness and purity of the atmosphere. The average number of cloudy days in a year is not more than fifty, and not more than half that number are rainy. The quantity of rain is not more than eighteen inches. The sky in summer and autumn is generally cloudless. There are no northeast continued rains as in the Atlantic States. The longest storms are from the southwest.

The usual diseases are intermittent and bilious fevers. Sometimes pleurisy and lung fevers prevail in winter. Pulmonic complaints, attended with cough, are seldom; and consumption, that scourge of the East, is unknown.

The summers are quite warm, and sometimes oppressive; but generally, a refreshing breeze prevails. The winters are sometimes cold, and the wind blows sharp and keen. The Missouri is frozen sufficiently strong to bear loaded teams. But days are found even in January, when it is agreeable to sit at an open window. A few inches of snow occasionally fall, but there is hardly any good sleighing.

This State is known to be rich in minerals, although a large portion remains yet unexplored. Lead has been found in abundance. The principal "diggings" are included in a district fifteen miles by thirty in extent; the centre of which is sixty miles southwest from St. Louis, and about half that distance from Herculaneum, on the Mississippi. The earth is of a reddish yellow, and the ore is found embedded in rock and hard gravel. Fifty diggings are now occupied, from which three millions of pounds of lead are annually sent to market. It is transported from the mines in wagons, either to Herculaneum or St. Genevieve, and from thence by water to New-Orleans. Stone coal abounds, especially in the region of St. Louis and St. Charles. Plaster, pipe clay, manganese, zinc, antimony, red and white chalk, ochres, flint, common salt, nitre, plumbago, porphyry, jasper, porcelain clay, iron, marble and the blue limestone of an excellent quality for lime, have already been discovered in this State. Iron, lead, plaster and coal are known to exist in inexhaustible quantities.

St. Louis is much the largest town in the State. It is not only the most pleasantly situated, but has the most favorable location for trade of any town on the Mississippi above New-Orleans. It has, however, been sufficiently described.

St. Genevieve is situated about a mile west of the Mississippi on the upper extremity of a beautiful prairie. It is principally settled by the French and contains about fifteen hundred inhabitants. It is an old town, and has not increased for the last thirty years.

Jackson, the seat of justice for Cape Girardeau county, is twelve miles west of the Mississippi, contains one hundred houses, some of them built of brick and handsome.

The town of Cape Girardeau is situated on a high bluff of the Mississippi, fifty miles above the mouth of the Ohio. It has a fine harbor for boats, and commands an extensive view of the river above and below. It exhibits marks of decay.

Potosi is the county town of Washington. It is situated in the centre of the mining district, in a pleasant valley sixty-five miles southwest from St. Louis. St Michael is an old French town among the mines. There are some other small villages in the vicinity of the mining district.

Herculaneum is situated among the high bluffs of the river, thirty miles below St. Louis. There are a number of shot towers in its vicinity. New-Madrid is fifty miles below the mouth of the Ohio. Carondolet is a small French village six miles below St. Louis; and four miles below this, is the garrison, called Jefferson Barracks. The public buildings are extensive, and a large number of soldiers are generally stationed here. There are no large villages on the Mississippi above the mouth of the Missouri. Palmyra is probably as large as any. The others are Louisianaville, Troy and Petersburg.

There are a number of fine villages on the banks of the Missouri; the largest of which is St. Charles, twenty miles from the mouth, and just the same distance from St. Louis by land. It is situated on a high bank of solid limestone, has one street of good brick houses; and in its rear, an extensive elevated prairie. It contains a protestant and a catholic church, was once the seat of government, and numbers twelve hundred inhabitants; a third of whom are French. It has finely cultivated farms in its neighborhood, and has as interesting scenery as any village in the western country.

Jefferson City is the present seat of government, but being thought to be an unfavorable location has not improved as was expected. It is situated on the south bank of the Missouri, nine miles above the mouth of the Osage river, and one hundred and fifty-four by water from St. Louis. Fifty miles above this, is the town of Franklin. It is situated on the north bank of the river, contains two hundred houses and one thousand inhabitants. It is surrounded by the largest body of rich land in the State; and is the centre of fine farms and rich farmers. Boonville is on the opposite bank of the river and was originally settled by Col. Boone, the patriarch of Kentucky. Bluffton, two hundred and twenty-nine miles by water from St. Louis, is the last village within the limits of this State.

CHAPTER XII.

When we were ready to start, not finding a steamboat bound to New-Orleans, which would go under a day or two, we took passage, as far as the mouth of the Ohio, in one bound to Pittsburgh.

On the eastern side of the river, to the mouth of the Ohio, it is a level country, (with only one exception) called the "American Bottom," and is as fine, rich land as earth affords; but is somewhat subject to overflow, and is supposed not to be very healthy. Settlements are, however, making upon it. On the west side we found a number of stately bluffs of limestone, rising from the water perpendicular two or three hundred feet.

I was much amused to see the "screw auger grist mills" on the bank of the river. A place is selected where the current sets strong along the shore; and a log seventy feet long, three or four feet in diameter, having a board float a foot in width from stem to stern, in a spiral form, like a coarse threaded screw, is thrown into the river. To the upper end of the log, by an universal joint, is attached a cable, and the other end, extended in a diagonal direction to a shaft in the mill on the bank. The log wheel floats in the water parallel with the shore, about a third of it above the surface; is held in its position by sticks at each end extending to the bank, and the cable itself prevents its going down stream. The current of the river turns the wheel, and the mill clatters merrily on the bank.

These high banks are not altogether without their use. They furnish elegant sites for shot towers; and probably half a dozen of them are thus occupied.

The greatest natural curiosity on the river, is what is called the "Towers." High pillars of limestone are seen on both sides of the stream, and one solid rock rises almost in the middle of the river, thirty feet high. Some of the most striking curiosities have particular, if not appropriate names given them; such as "the grand tower," "the devil's candlestick," "the devil's bake-oven," &c.

The navigation of the Mississippi in steamboats has its dangers. Snags and sawyers are scattered along down the river; and it requires great attention in the pilot, to avoid them. But there are other dangers beside this. As we came along down, we passed a steamboat that had burst her boiler; blown the upper part of it to pieces and killed a number of persons; and further down the Mississippi, the "Boonslick" run into the "Missouri Belle," sunk her in eighty feet of water, and drowned a number of passengers.

As we came down opposite the mouth of the Ohio, we had our courage put to the test. It was about twilight, and cloudy; but objects could well be discerned for some distance. We saw a steamboat coming up the river, and apparently intending to pass us on the left hand. When within a short distance of us, the boat "took a sheer," stood on the other tack, to pass us on the right. Our captain sung out, "the boat is coming right into us; back the engine." Then was a scene of confusion and dismay on board; "and the boldest held his breath for a time." If the boats came in contact, one or both would undoubtedly sink; and it appeared unavoidable. I ran up on the upper deck, and stood beside the flag staff, to wait the event. It was soon decided. By backing our boat and putting the steam on the other, we passed without striking at the distance of a few feet only. This was, indeed, a fortunate escape.

I thought the pilot of the other boat must have been at fault; but the captain told me he was not at all. A cross current from the Ohio struck the bow of his boat, and veered her round in spite of the helm; and then, the only chance was to go ahead with all the speed he could.

It now became quite dark, and in attempting to go across into the Ohio channel, the boat run aground on a sand bar. All the boat hands were employed till past midnight to get her off, but without success. They all turned in, to rest and wait till daylight.

When the captain arose in the morning, he found the boat adrift. On examination, it appeared the force of the current alone had washed away the sand bar, and drove the boat across from the Mississippi side into the Ohio channel. He put the steam on, and we run to the landing place on the Illinois side, and a short distance up the river. Here we found half a dozen steamboats, exchanging with each other goods and passengers.

The mouth of the Ohio is a general stopping place for all boats running up and down either river; and would be a fine situation for a town, if the land were suitable to build upon. Although the shore appeared to be thirty feet above the then low stage of water, yet in a freshet, the whole is laid eight or ten feet under water.

We found here a large tavern house and grocery; both stuck up on stilts; the latter, standing nearest the bank, had a breakwater, to keep it from being carried away by the flood and floating timber. We stopped an hour or more; went to the tavern, and found dissipation in a flourishing condition. Those acquainted with the place, told us it was as much as a man's life was worth, to stay there. Rioting, robbing, gambling and fighting were the general order of things, day after day, and night after night. For the honor of the human race, I hope this account is exaggerated. But I must confess, appearances are against it.

Here, we left our boat, and took passage on board another, bound to New-Orleans. These Mississippi steamboats are of gigantic size, and look like a floating castle—I was about to say the ancient ark; and although it might fall some short of that ancient vessel, in quantity and quality of lading, yet when its size and great variety of cargo are taken into consideration, the comparison might not be deemed a bad one. In one particular, it would be exact. We had aboard a number of "creeping things."

Our boat was laden with barrels of pork, kegs of lard, hogsheads of hams, bags of corn, bars of lead, bales of cotton, coops of chickens, horses, men, women, children, and negro slaves; men of gentlemanly deportment and of good character; and gamblers, horse-jockeys, and negro dealers; and women, of good fame, ill fame, and no particular fame at all. This was, surely, variety enough for one boat.

The untravelled man might obtain some new ideas of the world, by taking a trip in a Mississippi steamboat. It seemed like a world in miniature. Singing, fiddling, dancing, card playing, gambling, and story telling, were among the pastimes of the passage. Mere pastimes, to relieve the tedium of the voyage, for those who have no other resources at command, may not be the subject of censure; but there were some practices on board this boat, which ought not to be thus lightly passed over.

One woman, in the garb and mien of a lady, and whose person still wore the bloom of youth, but whose conduct was far from being unexceptionable, appeared, sometimes, pensive and sad. She appeared as though she had seen other and better days; and that her present course of life was not, even to herself, entirely satisfactory. I had some curiosity to learn something of her history, and one day in a talkative mood, she gave me the outlines of it.

She said, she was the daughter of rich parents in the State of Delaware. Her father died while she was quite young; leaving her with an ample fortune, and in the care of an indulgent mother. She had always been kept at school; learned music, drawing and dancing; read novels; attended parties, and was caressed and flattered. In short, she was a giddy girl, and knew nothing of the world.

At this critical time of life, she was flattered by a young man of prepossessing appearance, but of worthless character, who offered her marriage. She knew her mother would, at her tender years, object to the match; and therefore, at the early age of fifteen, she clandestinely jumped out of the window of her boarding house in the night, and was married!

This was a sore affliction to her mother; and although she herself was not entirely discarded, her husband was never permitted to enter the parental mansion. Her husband obtained her fortune, spent it "in riotous living," and after awhile, left her with two small children, and fled to Cincinnati. She, in her distress, applied to her mother; she would receive her, but not her children. She then took her children, and went after her husband. She found him; but they lived but a short time together, before he abused her in such a manner, she was obliged to quit him; and not much caring whither she went, she took passage on board a boat for St. Louis. At this place she supported herself and children as long as she could, by selling her trinkets and superfluous clothing, and then was left destitute. She had never been accustomed to labor; her hands were as delicate as those of a child—she "could not work, and to beg she was ashamed." As a last resort, (could a virtuous woman think so?) she became an inmate of a house not of the strictest morals.

After staying there awhile, she became acquainted with some of the hands of the boat, who persuaded her to try her fortune at the city of New-Orleans. She was now only about twenty! She was miserable, and expected to be so. Vice carried with it its own punishment. I tried to induce her to return to her mother; but in vain. Her conduct had been such, she was ashamed to return. A sad termination this, to the bright hopes, and fond anticipations of an indulgent mother. So true it is, that one improvident step in life, often leads to destruction.

Another female who figured somewhat conspicuously, was one who came on board at the mouth of the Ohio from the steamboat Nile; and from that circumstance, was called by the passengers the "Queen of the Nile." She was from the State of Ohio, possessed a fine person, and in her days of innocence, must have been handsome and fascinating. She was the daughter of respectable parents, and commenced life with high hopes and brilliant expectations; but she had been "disappointed in love." Abandoned by her "cruel spoiler," she gave herself up to dissipation and crime. The bloom of her cheeks began to fade, and the sad aspect, sometimes so conspicuously depicted in her countenance, plainly indicated a mind ill at ease and a heart painfully sad. She travelled without object, other than to revel in dissipation and kill time. But her course of life had made serious inroads upon her health, and it was apparent enough that her days must be "evil and few." I sometimes observed her sitting on the guard of the boat for hours all alone, gazing in sadness at the peaceful forest and cottages as they passed in rapid review before her, the tears fast flowing from her eyes, and her face exhibiting such anguish as may not be expressed by words. She kept on in the boat to New-Orleans, and I afterwards was informed by a gentleman who was a fellow passenger, that she became mistress to a Frenchman in that city. How mistaken mankind are! Crime never did cure the heart ache, or dissipation ever dispel sorrow.

The steamboats are constructed like a long two story house, having large windows and green blinds. The hold is to stow away their heavy freight; on the first deck, is the gentlemen's cabin, and the dining room, where all the cabin passengers take their meals; in the centre, is the engine, cook room, &c.—and forward, are the boilers and wood. On the next deck, is the ladies' cabin aft, and forward is the place for deck passengers, having berths but no bedding. Over this, is what is called the "hurricane deck."

A cabin passage from St. Louis to New-Orleans, is twenty-five dollars; and a deck passage seven dollars—the passenger finding his own bedding and meals. Cooking stoves are provided, so that families often lay in their own provisions and cook their own meals.

Boats burn a good deal of wood—ours consumed a cord an hour; and it is no small job to bring the wood aboard from the slippery banks of the Mississippi. As an inducement to the deck passengers to help wood the boat, two dollars are deducted to those who agree to wood; so in that case they only pay five dollars. Thirty or forty of our passengers agreed to wood, but the mate and clerk had much difficulty to make them fulfil their engagements.

It was sometimes really laughable, to see the expedients resorted to, to get rid of wooding; especially when the boat rounded to, by the side of a wood-pile in the night. The clerk would sing out, "Wood-pile, wood-pile, where are the wooders?" But they, like some characters in high places, were more inclined to "dodge the question," than to walk up manfully and perform their duty. Some feigned themselves sick; some hid under the baggage, or beneath the berths; others went on shore and skulked in the woods, until the wooding was over. So that with all their coaxing and driving, they would not be able to bring to the work more than half of the wood hands.

One fracas was ludicrous, although I could not but regret the result. It is well known, that the inhabitants of the several western States are called by certain nicknames. Those of Michigan are called wolverines; of Indiana, hooshers; of Illinois, suckers; of Ohio, buckeyes; of Kentucky, corn-crackers; of Missouri, pukes, &c. To call a person by his right nickname, is always taken in good part, and gives no offence; but nothing is more offensive than to mis-nickname—that is, were you to call a hoosher a wolverine, his blood would be up in a moment, and he would immediately show fight.—Now it so happened that the mate, who was a regular built buckeye, had a dispute with a wood hand, who was about half drunk, and refused to wood. The mate stood on the lower deck, and he on the deck above; and in the course of the wrangle, he had called him some terrible hard names, which he bore with becoming fortitude and forbearance. At length, the wood hand called him a "d—d old puke!" This was too much—unendurable. He fired in a moment—rushed up and floored him in a twinkling—dragged him down by his collar, thrust him ashore, and left him in the woods.

But the steamboat, the steamboat! For noise and confusion, give me the Mississippi steamboat. They all have powerful high-pressure engines; the escape pipe is large, and at every breath they make a tremendous noise. They "talk big," and swiftly dash through the water. It is indeed a grand display, to see the steamboats pass. In "a voice of thunder" they come—the wheels lash the water—and the prows cut the stream—and the waves roll in violent commotion for hundreds of yards behind them. And then, the noise of the engine, and hurry and bustle of the passengers within:—an excellent place to cure one of the ennui.

On board our boat, we had a number of very intelligent and agreeable gentlemen—Kentuckians, Tennesseans, Mississippians, &c. I wish these western people would be a little more exact in speaking the English language. Some inaccuracies I observed; and if this book ever reaches them, they will not be offended, but obliged to me for these suggestions. In the first place, they use the word which instead of what. Ask a question, and if they do not understand you, they reply "which?"—Another phrase, "I have saw," instead of "I have seen," is often used. Then there is "a right smart chance," applied to almost every thing; and "tote in the plunder," instead of "bring in the baggage." But the word heap has too much by far heaped upon its shoulders. "A heap better," "a heap easier," and "a heap of ladies," are phrases often heard. I may be a little sensitive, but the word heap is very disagreeable, and I wish it was expunged from the English vocabulary. All these expressions are not used by many literary men in this country, but they are indeed, quite too common.

They have some peculiarities in the calling of money. A New-England ninepence is called a bit; and the four-pence-half-penny bears the name of pickaroon. In travelling from New-Hampshire to Virginia some years ago, I was somewhat amused at the different names given to the same piece of money. My four-pence-half-penny became at New-York a sixpence, at Philadelphia a fip, and at Virginia it became a four-pence-half-penny again. But all these singularities and inconveniences will soon be done away, and money will universally bear its legal title, dollars and cents.

CHAPTER XIII.

There is an independent frankness in these western people that I admire. It is a kind of individuality of character—every one appears to act out himself, without reference to others. At the north, people are too apt to follow the multitude, or a particular file leader; and by them, shape their opinions and actions. In order to tell whether they will do a particular act, they must look about them, and ascertain what others will say of it. The politician must conform to the usages of his party, whatever they may be. He must think as they think, and act as they act, whether it be agreeable to the dictates of his own conscience or not. The pious lady must be exactly in the fashion—conform to certain leaders—be charitable by rule—and kind, in the most approved mode. If any one has the boldness to take an independent course, in fashion, politics or religion, he is looked upon with suspicion, as a dangerous innovator, and must not be tolerated. The dogs of war are let loose upon him, and he is hunted down for entertaining an opinion of his own. In this manner, individual character becomes swallowed up and lost in that of the multitude.

But in this region, nature is true to herself. The useless and cumbersome shackles of custom and party are thrown aside with disdain; and the individual walks forth in his own native freedom and independence. He does not shape his course by what his neighbors may say, do or think; but acts according to the dictates of his own heart, and from his own opinion of right and wrong. He is charitable, kind and hospitable—not in a grudging, supercilious manner; or in a way calculated to display himself; but with such an air of open-hearted welcome, as to make the recipient feel at ease, and doubles the value of the kindness bestowed. How can man be niggardly and mean, among the teeming prairies and stately forests of the West, where nature herself, by showering down her blessings with a bountiful hand, teaches him also to be liberal!

And I have often to myself reversed the question and asked, how can northern people be other than inhospitable and niggardly, living in such a crabbed climate, and on such a barren soil. They cannot, in general, afford to be liberal; and were it otherwise, the severe labor and economy—the continual dealing in small things—the constant rack of brains, to find some method to turn a penny to advantage—that must be gone through with, to gain a large estate, seem to drive out of the head of the possessor all notions of liberality, and tend to steel the heart against noble acts of kindness. That which costs much, and is rarely obtained, is highly valued, and not lightly parted with. We are not well educated in the school of hospitality. We awkwardly perform its teachings—seldom with gracefulness and a hearty welcome.

Among our passengers, there were twenty-three negro slaves, men and women; bought in Kentucky by negro speculators, to be transported to Natchez, where the market is high, to be sold. One of them was taken with the cholera, and in twelve hours died. He was put into a rough box, and when we stopped to wood, buried on shore. This was the only case we had, and the only one I ever witnessed. It is a dreadful disease; but has been too often professionally described, for me to attempt it.

These negroes are singular beings. Although one of their number had died; and although they were slaves, and going to be sold to, they knew not whom, or what hardships they might be made to endure, yet they were always merry—talking, laughing, singing, dancing, in one continued round. At every place we stopped, they would run on shore, and while one sung, clapped his hands, and beat time with his foot, the others would foot it merrily on the smooth ground. Knowing their destination, their thoughtless gayety sometimes produced disagreeable sensations. There are some situations, however, where ignorance and thoughtlessness are a blessing. They were not confined at all, but appeared to be kindly treated, and to enjoy every liberty they might, consistent with their situation.

The banks of the Mississippi look high enough at low water; probably thirty feet; presenting a raw edge next the stream, and generally covered with a dense forest of lofty trees; yet at high water, they are generally overflowed, except at the high bluffs. The most prominent of these, are what are called the Iron Banks, Chickasaw Bluffs, Walnut Hills, and the site of the city of Natchez—all these are on the east side of the river. I do not remember of seeing a single high bluff on the west side, below the mouth of the Ohio. There are occasionally small elevations over which the river does not flow; and villages erected on them. But every few miles without regard to overflows, log houses are erected in the wilderness, inhabited by woodcutters; and their only employment seems to be, to supply the steamboats with wood. Although wood is cheap, being generally $1,50 a cord, above the mouth of the Ohio, and from there to Natchez $2,00, yet the demand is so great, and the forest so near, they make quite a lucrative business of it.

The river is very crooked, sometimes going five miles to gain one; has many islands, and some places, full of snags. There are two or three snag boats employed on the river, and when they get them chiefly out, the Missouri, which seems to take upon itself the chief regulation of the stream, brings down at high water a reinforcement equal to the first supply; so that to keep the river clear of snags, is like the labor of Sisyphus, who was doomed to roll a stone up a hill, and the moment he got it near the top, it would roll down again.

The introduction of steamboats on the western waters, has revolutionized the country. They have opened the deep recesses of the West, to the free access of mankind, and let in the light of day upon them. The half-horse and half-alligator race are no longer to be found; but the inhabitants of this part of creation look, and talk, and act, and live—very much like human beings. The refinements, elegancies and luxuries of life are not so generally found here, as in the Atlantic States; but all the necessaries are every where abundant.

In Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, and all along the river Mississippi, I found the inhabitants civil and kind; and in no one instance did I ask for a meal of victuals in vain. It might, sometimes, be a homely one, and once I recollect, it consisted of meat and bread; but those who have such a mawkish sensibility that they cannot relish the simple fare of the forrester, ought never to set a foot on the western world.

The flat boats are still in use on the river. We passed hundreds of them; some loaded with live stock, others with corn, cotton, &c. They have hardly any resemblance of a boat. They are sixty or seventy feet long, ten wide, having corner posts and a square form like a house, and a flat roof. The current floats them down the stream to the destined port, the cargoes and boats are both sold, and the hands take passage on board the steamboats, home.

We stopped at all the villages and towns of any size on the river, to take and leave passengers and freight; but books give such an accurate description of them, as to render any particular notice here unnecessary. Memphis is the most pleasant, Vicksburg the most flourishing, and Natchez the largest—all on the east side of the river.

There are no large towns on the west side of the river below the mouth of the Ohio. As prominent as any, perhaps, is New-Madrid, situated just within the southern border of the State of Missouri. It was once a much larger village than at present. It is memorable for the romantic history of its origin under General Morgan, and for the great earthquakes in 1811 and 1812. Mr. Flint says that these earthquakes were more severe than any known in our part of the continent. The shocks were felt more or less throughout the whole western country; but they were more severe and produced the most disastrous effects in the region of New-Madrid.—The grave yard of the village, with all its sleeping tenants was precipitated into the river—the trees were violently thrown against each other, bent in various directions or prostrated—the earth burst in many places, and earth, sand and water were thrown high into the air—thousands of acres were sunk and many ponds formed—the river became dammed up and flowed backwards—islands sunk in the stream, and boats as they passed shared the same fate—the birds of the air became terrified, descended to the earth and flew into the arms of man to shelter themselves from the commotion of nature—the whole country for a time became inundated, but as it was thinly inhabited few lives only were lost. History does not record an earthquake attended with more terrific circumstances and threatening a more exterminating war with man and nature, than this. The thriving country about the village was made desolate, but now it is slowly regaining its former condition. In this region the country is rich and beautiful, but the many ponds made by the earthquake render it unhealthy. New-Madrid is, however, quite a village, transacts much business and is the most noted landing place for steamboats on the west side of the river below St. Louis.

CHAPTER XIV.

At Natchez, I left the boat, and stopped a day or two, to make the necessary preparations to go over land on horseback to Texas. There is a steamboat that plies regularly between this place and Alexandria on Red River; and we should rather have travelled by water as far as that place, and avoided crossing the Mississippi swamp by land; but the boat had gone, and would not return under a number of days.

Natchez is an incorporated city, containing about three thousand inhabitants. That part of it which lies under the bluff near the river, is muddy, looks old and disagreeable; but the main part of the city is situated on a high bank, two hundred feet above the river; chiefly built of brick, quite pleasant, and makes quite a show of business. The ground back of it, is full of gullies, and is unpleasant. It is an old town, but has much improved within a few years.

Many people going to Texas continue on down the river to New-Orleans, and there take a passage on board a vessel to some port in the province; but my desire was to see the country, and therefore, I chose to travel over land. A pleasant and companionable gentleman from the State of New-York, who came down in the boat with me, agreed to bear me company. Some acquaintances of his, with their families, were on the road to Texas, and he like myself wished to see the country.

Having provided ourselves with horses, portmanteaus, fireworks, &c. and obtained the necessary directions, we took an early start; crossed the Mississippi in a ferry boat, for which we were taxed half a dollar each; and took the road to Alexandria. We had some ill-forbodings about the great Mississippi swamp; for just as we were about to cross the river a gentleman, of whom we made some enquires respecting the route, told us he thought it now impossible to travel through it in consequence of the rains which had recently fallen. But we were all equipped to go by land, and this, our only route; and therefore, we determined, at all events, to push forward.

There is a road from the mouth of Red River, along its bank to Alexandria, and this, we were afterwards informed, is the best route; but it was seventy miles below us; and whoever takes it, must go down in a boat.

Our route lay, for the first six miles, up the river near its bank; and then we turned more to the west. We passed half a dozen cotton plantations, some quite large, and saw an army of negroes picking it.

The cotton plant grows about as high as a man's head, has blossoms about as big as that of a small rose, and resembling in appearance the hollyhock, but more extensive branches. The pod is about the size and shape of the outer covering of a walnut; and when ripe, it opens in quarters, and presents the cotton in full view. A negro takes a basket or a bag, and swings it at his side, and with his thumb and finger picks out the cotton, almost as fast as a hen picks up corn. It grows from the seed, is planted every year in hills like corn, and cultivated in the same manner.

A field of cotton in full blossom, makes a fine appearance. After it is picked, it is laid on a rack to dry; then ginned to take out the seed, and put up in bales for the market. The rope and bagging used, are the manufacture of Kentucky; or at least it brings more into market than all the other States. I was told that one prime hand on good land would make ten bales of cotton a year, and raise corn enough to support himself. The average worth of these bales is five hundred dollars. From enquiries I afterwards made, I believe the plantations generally make about seven bales to the hand. No wonder negroes are valuable in a cotton-growing country.

Our route now lay through a dense forest—and the ground generally so miry that we could only ride on a walk. Sometimes we came to the thick canebrakes, about twenty feet high, and overhanging our narrow path. Sometimes, we found the palmetto, which exactly resembles a large green, open fan, standing on a stem a foot high, and so thick that we could hardly ride through them, or see any path at all. Sometimes we came to a sheet of water a hundred yards wide, in which a horse would plunge to the saddle skirts, and for a while, become stuck fast; and again, we would find a cypress swamp, full of cypress knees and mud. Indeed it is the worst swamp I ever travelled over, before or since; and sometimes, I thought our horses were stuck too fast ever to move again.

These cypress knees are quite a curiosity. They start from the roots of the tree, grow from two to four feet high, about the size of a man's arm, but rather larger at the bottom, and are smooth, without leaf or branch. They look like a parcel of small posts with the bark growing over the top end; and are so thick, that it is troublesome to ride among them. The cause or use of this anomaly in nature I cannot divine.

Eighteen miles from Natchez, we came to two log houses and a small stream, called the Tensaw. We crossed the ferry, about twice the length of the boat in width, and paid half a dollar each for ferriage. We had now twelve miles to go to find a stopping place for the night, and all the way, through a dense forest of lofty trees; and it was three o'clock in the afternoon. The first half of the distance was decent travelling, although we could not ride much of the way faster than a walk. Then we came to a wet and miry road.

It began to grow dark in the woods. The trees were quite thick, and hung full of Spanish moss; and there was no moon in the sky. The wolf, the wildcat, and the owl, had pitched their tune for the night; and soon, thick darkness shrouded around our path. The heavens were clear; yet so dense were the foliage and moss, that it was seldom I could find a loop hole, through which a star might cast its rays upon us. I never had been in such a gloomy situation before. We were in a path, to us untravelled; and by its appearance, seldom travelled by man. We had shoals of muddy water to cross, and sloughs of mud to wallow through. And then the night was so dark, and the track so faint, we frequently lost it, and found it again with difficulty. It was ten o'clock at night when we arrived on the shore of the lake, and saw a light on the other side. We raised the ferryman after a while, and he came out and took us over.

This lake is about a mile wide, and twelve long, and must have once been the channel of the Mississippi. The ferriage here was half a dollar each. On the other side, we found a good house, and a genteel family within. They soon provided for us an excellent supper, which was very acceptable after a ride of thirty miles over such an execrable road. Not being much used to travelling on horseback, I felt excessively fatigued and retired immediately to bed. My companion and myself had each of us a good bed, and we slept soundly until after sunrise.

The morning was fine, so we walked awhile along the shore of the lake, before breakfast. It was about the twentieth of November, yet the air felt as mild as a morning in June. The winter was following hard after me, yet I had travelled to the southward and westward faster than the cold weather. The coldest weather I had found on my route, was in the State of New-York. There is a softness in the atmosphere of the western States that is very grateful to the feelings, and is not found in our northern climate. In going westward on the same parallel of latitude, the air becomes sensibly more mild and bland. The air is very clear, so here as in Illinois, I could discern objects much further than at the North. I could see a house so far off, that it would not look larger than a bee-hive. There had been no frost here, and nature wore her livery of green.

This gentleman has a fine cotton plantation of rich alluvial land. His house is built facing the lake, on an Indian mound, levelled down to the height of about six feet. We took breakfast with the family in a large portico on the back side of the house. It was a good breakfast, on a neat spread table, and the lady at the head performed the honors of it, with an ease and grace seldom equalled. We performed our parts to a charm, both in eating the breakfast and complimenting the hostess.

This family were from the State of Virginia, and had been settled here in Louisiana seven years.—The gentleman informed me they had generally enjoyed good health, although they had sometimes been afflicted with the fever and ague.

It is refreshing to the weary traveller, when far away from his home, to find a spot in his path, where he can renew his strength, and repose in peace. At such a spot he lingers, leaves it with regret, and treasures it up in his memory.