In the Indian tongue there is no distinction of masculine or feminine gender, but simply of animate and inanimate beings.
"The freedom of manners, and the uncertainty of life, from the various hazards to which it is inevitably exposed, imparts to the character of savages a species of liberality, under which are couched many benevolent principles; a respect for the aged, and in several instances a deference to their equals. The natural coldness of their temperament, admits of few outward demonstrations of civility. They are, however, affable in their mode, and are ever disposed to show towards strangers, and particularly towards the unfortunate, the strongest marks of hospitality. A savage will seldom hesitate to share with a fellow-creature oppressed by hunger, his last morsel of provisions."—Vide Heriot, p. 318.
CHAPTER VI
On our return to Illinois from Missouri, we visited the tumuli in the "American bottom," for the purpose of more closely investigating the form and disposition of these sepulchral mounds. Their shape is invariably hemispherical, or of the mamélle form. Throughout the country, from the banks of the Hudson to a considerable distance beyond the Mississippi, tumuli, and the remains of earthen fortifications were dispersed. Those of the former which have been removed, were found to contain human bones, earthen vessels, and utensils composed of alloyed metal; which latter fact is worthy of particular notice, as none of the Indians of North America are acquainted with the art of alloying. The vessels were generally of the form of drinking cups, or ewer-shaped cans, sometimes with a flange to admit a cover. One of those which I saw in a museum at Cincinnati, had three small knobs at the bottom on which it stood, and I was credibly informed that a dissenting clergyman, through the esprit de metier, undertook to prove from the circumstance, that the people who raised these mounds and fortifications must have been acquainted with the doctrine of the Trinity. How far the reverend gentleman is correct in his inference, I leave for theologians to decide.
The Indians do not claim the mounds as depositories for their dead, but are well aware of their containing human bones. They frequently encamp near them, and visit them on their journeys, but more as land marks than on any other account. They approach them with reverence, as they do all burial places, no matter of what people or nation. The Quapaws have a tradition, that they were raised "many hundred snows" ago, by a people that no longer exists; they say, that in those days game was so plenty that very little exertion was necessary to procure a subsistence, and there were then no wars—these happy people having then no employment, collected, merely for sport, these heaps of earth, which have ever since remained, and have subsequently been used by another people, who succeeded them, as depositories of their dead. Another tradition is, that they were erected by the Indians to protect them from the mammoths, until the Great Spirit took pity on his red children, and annihilated these enormous elephants. Most of the Indian nations concur in their having been the work of a people which had ceased to exist before the red men possessed those hunting grounds.
The numerous mounds, fortifications, and burial caverns, and the skeletons and mummies, that have been discovered in these catacombs, sufficiently establish the fact, that a people altogether different from the present aborigines once inhabited these regions. At what period this by-gone people flourished still remains a matter of mere conjecture, for to the present time no discovery has been made that could lead to any plausible supposition.
De Witt Clinton having paid more attention to the antiquities of America than any other person of whom I am aware, I shall here insert his description of the forts. He says, "These forts were, generally speaking, erected on the most commanding ground. The walls, or breastworks, were earthen. The ditches were on the exterior of the works. On some of the parapets, oak trees were to be seen, which, from the number of concentric circles, must have been standing one hundred and fifty, two hundred and sixty, and three hundred years; and there were evident indications, not only that they had sprung up since the erection of these works, but that they were at least a second growth. The trenches were in some cases deep and wide, and in others shallow and narrow; and the breastworks varied in altitude from three to eight feet. They sometimes had one, and sometimes two entrances, as was to be inferred from there being no ditches at those places. When the works were protected by a deep ravine, or large stream of water, no ditch was to be seen. The areas of these forts varied from two to six acres; and the form was in general an irregular ellipsis; in some of them, fragments of earthenware and pulverized substances, supposed to have been originally human bones, were to be found."
"I believe we may confidently pronounce, that all the hypotheses which attribute these works to Europeans are incorrect and fanciful: 1st. on account of the present number of the works; 2d. on account of their antiquity; having from every appearance been erected a long time before the discovery of America; and, finally, their form and manner are varient from European fortifications, either in ancient or modern times.
"It is equally clear that they were not the work of the Indians. Until the Senecas, who are renowned for their national vanity, had seen the attention of the Americans attracted to these erections, and had invented the fabulous account of which I have spoken, the Indians of the present day did not pretend to know any thing about their origin. They were beyond the reach of all their traditions, and were lost in the abyss of unexplored antiquity."
At the Bull shoals, east branch of White river in Missouri, several feet below the surface of the banks, reliqua were found which indicated that this spot had formerly been the seat of metalurgical operations. The alloy appeared to be lead united with silver. Arrow-heads cut out of flint, and pieces of earthen pots which had evidently undergone the action of fire, were also found here. The period of time at which these operations were carried on in this place must have been very remote, as the present banks have been since entirely formed by alluvial deposits.
Near the Teel-te-nah (or dripping-fork), which empties itself into the La Platte, and not far distant from its junction with that river, there is an extensive cavern, in which are deposited several mummies. Some tribes which roam this region have a tradition, that the first Indian ascended through this aperture, and settled on the earth's surface.
A few years since, on the Merrimac river in St. Louis county, a number of pigmy graves were discovered. The coffins were of stone; and the length of the bodies which they contained, judging from that of the coffins, could not have been more than from three feet and a half to four feet. The graves were numerous, and the skeletons in some instances nearly entire.
In the month of June (1830), a party of gentlemen, whilst in pursuit of wild turkeys, in Hart county, Kentucky, discovered, on the top of a small knoll, a hole sufficiently large to admit a man's body. Having procured lights, they descended, and at the depth of about sixty feet, entered a cavern, sixteen or eighteen feet square, apparently hewn out of solid rock. The whole chamber was filled with human skeletons, which they supposed, from the size, to be those of women and children. The place was perfectly dry, and the bones were in a state of great preservation. They wished to ascertain how deep the bones lay, and dug through them between four and seven feet, but found them quite as plentiful as at the top: on coming to this depth, dampness appeared, and an unpleasant effluvia arising, obliged them to desist. There was no outlet to the cavern. A large snake, which appeared to be perfectly docile, passed several times round the apartment whilst they remained.
In a museum at New York, I saw one of those mummies alluded to, which appeared to be remarkably small; but I had not an opportunity of examining it minutely. Those that have been found in the most perfect state of preservation were deposited in nitrous caves, and were enveloped in a manner so different from the practices of the Indians, that the idea cannot be entertained of their being the remains of the ancestors of the present race. Flint gives the following description of one of them which he carefully examined. He says, "The more the subject of the past races of men and animals in this region is investigated, the more perplexed it seems to become. The huge bones of the animals indicate them to be vastly larger than any that now exist on the earth. All that I have seen and heard of the remains of the men, would seem to shew that they were smaller than the men of our times. All the bodies that have been found in that high state of preservation, in which they were discovered in nitrous caves, were considerably smaller than the present ordinary stature of men. The two bodies that were found in the vast limestone cavern in Tennessee, one of which I saw at Lexington, were neither of them more than four feet in height. It seems to me that this must have been nearly the height of the living person. The teeth and nails did not seem to indicate the shrinking of the flesh from them in the desiccating process by which they were preserved. The teeth were separated by considerable intervals; and were small, long, white, and sharp, reviving the horrible images of nursery tales of ogres' teeth. The hair seemed to have been sandy, or inclining to yellow. It is well known that nothing is so uniform in the present Indian as his lank black hair. From the pains taken to preserve the bodies, and the great labour of making the funeral robes in which they were folded, they must have been of the 'blood-royal,' or personages of great consideration in their day. The person that I saw, had evidently died by a blow on the skull. The blood had coagulated there into a mass, of a texture and colour sufficiently marked to shew that it had been blood. The envelope of the body was double. Two splendid blankets, completely woven with the most beautiful feathers of the wild turkey, arranged in regular stripes and compartments, encircled it. The cloth on which these feathers were woven, was a kind of linen of neat texture, of the same kind with that which is now woven from the fibres of the nettle. The body was evidently that of a female of middle age, and I should suppose that her majesty weighed, when I saw her, six or eight pounds."
The silly attempts that have been made to establish an oriental origin for the North American Indians, have never produced any other conviction in an unbiased mind, than that the facts brought forward to support that theory existed only in the imaginations of those who advanced them. The colour, the form, the manners, habits, and propensities of the Indians, all combine to establish that they are a distinct race of human beings, and could never have emanated from any people of European, Asiatic, or African origin. The notion that climate would be sufficient to produce an essential change in the appearance of any number of individuals, cannot now be maintained; since from the discovery of America, Europeans, Africans, and Indians have inhabited all regions of this vast continent, without undergoing the slightest characteristic change from the descendants of the original stock, who have remained in their primitive locations. The Power that induces the existence of plants and lower animals indigenous to the different sections of the earth, seems also to induce the existence of a race of men peculiar to the regions in which they are found.
The languages of America are radically different from those of the old world; and no similitude can be traced between the tongues of the red men, and those of any other people hitherto known. Jarvis, in his Paper on the Religion of the Indian Tribes of North America, says, "The best informed writers agree, that there are, exclusive of the Karalit or Esquimaux, three radical languages spoken by the Indians of North America. Mr. Heckwelder denominates them the Iroquois, the Lenapé, and the Floridian. The Iroquois is spoken by the Six Nations, the Wyandots, or Hurons, the Nandowessies, the Assiniboils, and other tribes beyond the St. Lawrence. The Lenapé, which is the most widely extended language on this side the Mississippi, was spoken by the tribes now extinct, who formerly inhabited Nova Scotia and the present state of Maine, the Abenakis, Micmacs, Canibas, Openangos, Soccokis, Etchemins, and Souriquois; dialects of it are now spoken by the Miamis, the Potawatomies, Missisangoes, and Kickapoos; the Eonestogas, Nanticokes, Shawanese, and Mohicans; the Algonquins, Knisteneaux, and Chippeways. The Floridian includes the languages of the Creeks, or Muskohgees, Chickesaws, Choctaws, Pascagoulas, Cherokees, Seminolese, and several other tribes in the southern states and Florida. These three languages are primitive; that is to say, are so distinct as to have no perceivable affinity. All, therefore, cannot be derived from the Hebrew; for it is a contradiction in terms to speak of three languages radically different, as derived from a common source. Which, then, we may well ask, is to be selected as the posterity of the Israelites: the Iroquois, the Lenapé, or the southern Indians?
"Besides, there is one striking peculiarity in the construction of American languages, which has no counterpart in the Hebrew. Instead of the ordinary division of genders, they divide into animate and inanimate. It is impossible to conceive that any nation, in whatever circumstances they might be placed, could depart in so remarkable a manner from the idioms of their native language."
M. Duponceau, a Frenchman settled at Philadelphia, who is perhaps one of the first philologists of the age, concludes a treatise on the same subject with the following deductions:
1.—"That the American languages, in general, are rich in words and in grammatical forms; and that in their complicated construction, the greatest order, method, and regularity prevail."
2.—"That these complicated forms, which I call polysinthetic, appear to exist in all those languages, from Greenland to Cape Horn."[8]
3.—"That these forms appear to differ essentially from those of the ancient and modern languages of the old hemisphere."
We intended to proceed direct from the banks of the Mississippi to Edwardsville, which lies in a north-easterly direction from St. Louis, but unfortunately got on the wrong track, an occurrence by no means uncommon on the prairies, and by this casualty visited Troy, a town containing two houses, namely, a "groggery," and a farm-house, both owned by the one person. The only resemblance this trans-Atlantic Ilium can possibly bear to the city of the ten years' siege, lies in the difficulty of ascertaining its location; for had we not been informed that here stood the town of Troy, we should have passed through this, as we did through many others, without ever suspecting the fact. Town-making is quite a speculation in the western country; and the first thing a man does after purchasing a few hundred acres of ground, is to "lay off a town lot:" this causes the maps to be studded with little circular dots, and great big names attached to them, which would lead one to suppose the population to be much greater than it is in reality.
From Edwardsville, we proceeded by Ripley and Greenville, to Vandalia, the seat of government of the state.
The prairies had lost much of the brilliant green colour which they possessed when we before crossed them, and they were now assuming rather a burnt appearance. Towards the close of autumn the grass generally becomes so dry as to be easily ignited, which formerly took place by accident, or otherwise, almost every year. The sight must be grand indeed; and we almost regretted that we were not so fortunate as to be in danger of being burnt alive—the sight would be worth the risk. There is a penalty attached to the firing of the woods or prairies, as the plantations are now becoming too numerously scattered over the country, and property is likely to be injured by these conflagrations.
Towards the latter end of October, the season peculiar to this country, denominated the "Indian summer," commences, and lasts for some weeks. At this period, the atmosphere is suffused with a vapour which at a distance has the appearance of smoke, arising as it were from fires in the forest. The air is always calm and mild on those days, and the sun's disk assumes a broad, reddish appearance.
Vandalia is the capital of Illinois, and is seated on the Kaskaskia river, which is only navigable to this point during the "freshets" in autumn and spring. The positions of the capitals are chosen for their centrality alone, and not with reference to any local advantages they may possess.
Illinois is a free state, and its constitution is but a counterpart of those of Ohio and Indiana. The extent is 380 miles from north to south, and about 140 miles from east to west: area, 52,000 square miles, or 33,280,000 acres. The population in 1810, was 12,282; in 1820, 55,211: white males, 29,401; white females, 24,387; slaves, 917; militia in 1821, 2,031. The present population is, according to the last census, 157,575. The increase within the last ten years has been nearly 186 per cent.
This state is better circumstanced than any other in the west. It is bounded on the north by the north-west territory; on the south by the Ohio; on the east by the Wabash and Lake Michigan; and on the west by the Mississippi. The Illinois river is navigable at almost all seasons to very nearly its head waters; and by means of a very short portage a communication is established between it and Lake Michigan. A canal is contemplated between this lake and the Wabash.
The heath-hen (tetrao cupido), or as it is here called, the 'Prairie-hen,' abounds on the prairies, particularly in the neighbourhood of barrens. This species of grouse, I believe, is not to be met with in Europe; nor has it been accurately described by any ornithologist before Wilson. One habit of the male of this bird is remarkable: at the season of incubation, the cocks assemble every morning just before day-break, outside the wood, and there exercise themselves tilting until the sun appears, when they disperse. Hunters have not failed to note the circumstance, and take advantage of it.
We were frequently amused with the movements of the "Turkey buzzard" (vultur aura). This bird is well known in the southern and western states; and in the former is considered of so much utility that a penalty is inflicted on any person who may wantonly destroy it. It is perfectly harmless, never attacking even the smallest living animal, and seems always to prefer carrion when in a state of putrefaction. Except when rising from the ground, the buzzard never flaps its wings, but literally floats through the atmosphere, forming graceful ogees.
During our journeys across Illinois, we passed several large bodies of settlers on their way to Sangamon and Morgan counties in that state. These counties are situated on the Illinois river, and are said to be fertile tracts. The mass of those persons were Georgians, Virginians, and Kentuckians, whose comparative poverty rendered their residence in slave states unpleasant.
Perhaps there is nothing more remarkable in the character of the Americans than the indifference with which they leave their old habitations, friends, and relations. Each individual is taught to depend mainly on his own exertions, and therefore seldom expects or requires extraordinary assistance from any man. Attachments seldom exist here beyond that of ordinary acquaintances—these are easily found wherever one may go, arising from a variety of circumstances connected with their institutions and their necessities; and thus one of the great objections that present themselves to change with Europeans scarcely exists here. Observe, I apply this remark more particularly to the western and southern states; for the eastern states being longer settled and more thickly populated, these feelings, although they exist, yet they do so in a more modified degree.
The appearance presented by the forests at this season is very beautiful—the trees are covered with leaves of almost every colour, from bright crimson to nearly snow-white; the admixture of green, brown, yellow, scarlet, &c., such as is almost peculiar to an American forest, produces a very pleasing combination.
We again reached Albion, and retraced our steps from thence to Harmony, where we deposited our friend B——; and after having remained there for a few days to refresh ourselves and horse, set forward for Ohio. The weather had now become unfavourable, and the frequent rains and high winds were shaking the leaves down in myriads—the entire of our journey through Indiana being across forests, we were under one constant shower of leaves from Harmony to Cincinnati.
One day while getting our horse fed at a tavern in Indiana, the following conversation took place between the persons there assembled. We were sitting at the door, surrounded by captains, lawyers, and squires, when one of the gentlemen demanded of another if there had not been a "gouging scrape" at the "Colonel's tavern" the evening before. He replied in the affirmative; and after having related the cause of quarrel, and said that the lie had been given, he continued, "the judge knocked the major right over, and jumped on to him in double quick time—they had it rough and tumble for about ten minutes—Lord J—s Alm——y!—as pretty a scrape as ever you see'd—the judge is a wonderfully lovely fellow." Then followed a description of the divers punishments inflicted by the combatants on each other—the major had his eye nearly "gouged" out, and the judge his chin almost bitten off. During the recital, the whole party was convulsed with laughter—in which we joined most heartily.
We of course returned by a different route through Indiana, passing from Princeton to Portersville, and from thence through Paoli, Salem, and New Lexington, to Madison. The country about Madison is hilly and broken, which makes travelling tedious in the extreme. From the mouth of the Big Miami to Blue river, a range of hills runs parallel to the Ohio, alternately approaching to within a few perches of the river, and receding to a distance of one to two miles. Below Blue river the hills disappear, and the land becomes level and heavily timbered. There is also another range of hills, extending from the Falls of Ohio to the Wabash in a south-westerly direction, which are called the "knobs:" to the west of these are the "flats;" and from the Wabash to lake Michigan the country is champaign.
Indianopolis is the capital of Indiana, and is seated on the White river. This state averages about 270 miles from north to south, and 144 miles from east to west: area, 37,000 square miles, or 23,680,000 acres. The population in 1810, was 24,520—in 1820, 147,178: white males, 79,919; white females, 69,107; slaves, 190; militia in 1821, 14,990. The present population is 341,582.
Vast quantities of hogs are bred in the state of Indiana, and are suffered to rove at large in the forests in search of mast. They are in general perfectly wild, and when encountered suddenly bristle up like an enraged porcupine. Their legs are long; bodies thin; and tail lengthy and straight. I was informed that if one of those animals be wounded, its screams will draw an immense concourse of its brethren around it, and that the situation of a person under these circumstances, is by no means void of danger; as they will not fail to attack him en masse. We were once very nigh getting into a scrape of this description. Driving along through the forest, we had to pass a tract covered with a thick growth of brushwood—my friend seeing something stirring among the bushes, drew up, and taking it for a deer, called out to me to fire—I stood up in the vehicle, and levelled where I saw the movement, when, lo! out starts a bristling hog, with a grunt just in time to escape with a whole skin.
One night having been accidently separated from my fellow-traveller, I had to stay in a miserable-looking hut close to a creek, the habitation of a backwoodsman. This person's appearance was extremely unprepossessing. The air of ferocity and wildness which characterized his countenance, added to his unhealthy, cadaverous aspect, would have been sufficient in any other country to make one feel unpleasant at passing the night alone under his roof. He resided in this unhealthy situation, because the land was extremely fertile; but stated that every fall some one of his family was ill, and none of them enjoyed good health. Now when we summed up the consequent loss of labour incident to ill health, the balance of profit seemed to be greatly against bottom land, and much in favour of the healthful prairies.
The farmers use, almost exclusively, the sugar of the maple (acer saccharinum) which they manufacture themselves. The space in which a number of these trees are found, they call a "sugar camp." The process of manufacturing is as follows:—After the first frost, the trees are tapped, by perforating the trunk in an ascending direction. A spout of alder is inserted in the perforation, and the sap drips through this conduit into a trough of wood. The sap is then boiled with a spoonful of slacked lime, the white of an egg or two, and about a pint of milk, to every fifteen gallons. An ordinary tree commonly gives four pounds of good coarse brown sugar, which when refined can be made equal to superior lump sugar.
A great portion of the roads through which we passed were mere horse paths, full of stumps, with shrubs entangled across them so thickly, that we were often obliged to dismount in order to cut away part of the impediment. Large trees which have fallen across the road, frequently intercept your passage, and you have no alternative but to lift the wheels of the vehicle over them.
As we approached Cincinnati the difficulty of travelling became greatly augmented. The rains had cut up the roads into ravines, sometimes full three feet in depth, which, added to the clayey nature of the soil, completely exhausted the horse, and rendered him incapable of proceeding faster than a slow walk, even with the empty carriage.
There are a number of Baptists residing at Cincinnati, who frequently entertain the inhabitants with public baptisms in the Ohio river. At one of those ceremonies, about this time, rather a ludicrous occurrence took place. The baptizing preacher stands up to his middle in the water, and the person to be baptized is led to him by another preacher. On this occasion the officiating clergyman was rather a slight man, and the lady to be baptized was extremely large and corpulent—he took her by the hands to perform the immersion, but notwithstanding his most strenuous exertions, he was thrown off his centre. She finding him yield, held still harder, until they both sowsed completely under the water, where they lay floundering and struggling for some time, amidst the shouts and laughter of the multitude assembled on shore. At length their brethren extricated them from this perilous situation.
FOOTNOTES:
M. Duponceau adduces the following examples: "In the Arancanian language the word 'idnancloclavin' means 'I do not wish to eat with him.' There is a similar verb in the Delaware tongue—'n'schingiwipona,' which means 'I do not like to eat with him.' To which may be added another example in the latter tongue—'machtitschwanne,'—this must be translated 'a cluster of islands with channels every way, so that it is in no place shut up, or impassable for craft.' This term is applied to the islands in the bay of New York."
CHAPTER VII
The weather having become cold and disagreeable towards the latter end of December, I set out for New Orleans. The larger class of steam-boats lay then at Shippingsport, immediately below the falls of Ohio, the river not being sufficiently high to enable them to pass over those rapids. Boats drawing from nineteen to twenty-six inches water can almost at all seasons ply on the Upper Ohio, and during the periods that the large boats are detained below the Falls, they are constantly employed in transporting produce, intended for the markets on the Mississippi, to Louisville, from whence it is drayed round to Shippingsport and re-shipped. Flat-boats are also employed for this purpose, and they are preferred, as they pass over the Falls, and thus land-carriage is avoided.
Louisville is the chief town of Jefferson county, in Kentucky, and at present it is estimated to contain about 12,000 inhabitants, including slaves and free people of colour. The store-keepers here are more wealthy than those of Cincinnati, and their manners less disagreeable. The inhabitants of the latter town being mostly from the New England states, have in their dealings and manners that dry shrewdness which is the true Yankee characteristic. There are also located in Cincinnati some Irish pedlars, who have by all manner of means acquired wealth, and are now the "biggest bugs"[9] in the place.
The public buildings of Louisville are few, and the streets are laid out in the usual style, crossing each other at right angles. It contains a few good brick dwelling-houses, and a number of excellent hack-carriages are stationed near the steam-boat landing. A canal round the Falls, from Beargrass-creek to Shippingsport, is being constructed, which will enable steam-boats of the largest tonnage to pass through; and thus it will open an uninterrupted intercourse between the Upper and Lower Ohio, and the Mississippi. The length of this canal is about two and a half miles, and the original estimate was 200,000 dollars, but this sum has been found insufficient.
At Louisville I took a berth on board a boat for New Orleans. The steam-boats on the Mississippi are large, and splendidly appointed; the interior has more the appearance of a well fitted up dining-room than the cabin of a boat. The charge is twenty-five dollars, for which you are found in every thing except liquors. Meats, fowls, vegetables, fruits, preserves, &c., are served in abundance, and of the very best quality. Here you may see tradesmen, "nigger traders," farmers, "congress men," captains, generals, and judges, all seated at the same table, in true republican simplicity. There is no appearance of awkwardness in the behaviour of the humblest person you see seated at those tables; and indeed their general good conduct is remarkable—I mean when contrasted with that of the same class in England. The truth is, the tradesman here finds himself of some importance in the scale of society, and endeavours to show that he is fully qualified to be seated at the same table, en passant, with the most wealthy citizen. No doubt the higher classes have some of that high polish rubbed off by these occasional contacts with their less-civilized fellow citizens; but the humbler classes decidedly gain what they lose. All dress well, and are American gentlemen.
The Ohio is formed by the junction of the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers at Pittsburg, that town being seated in the fork—its breadth there, is between eight and nine hundred yards. From the mouths of those two rivers it narrows and deepens for some distance; but afterwards, from the accession of the many tributary streams by which it is supplied, gradually becomes wider and deeper, until it empties itself into the Mississippi. The length of the Ohio, following its meanders, is about 950 miles, and it may be said to be navigable almost the entire year, as the water must be unusually low when the smaller steam-boats cannot ply to Pittsburg. The character of this river is somewhat peculiar. But for the improvements on the banks, when you have seen six or eight miles of this stream, you are acquainted with the remainder as far as the Falls—that is to say, any variety that may be in the scenery will occur in any given six miles from Pittsburg to that point. Below Louisville there are one or two rocky bluffs, and the face of the country is somewhat different. The channel of the Upper Ohio lies between hills, which frequently approach the mamélle form, and are covered with a heavy growth of timber. Where the hills or bluffs do not rise immediately from the river, but recede some distance, the space between the river and the hill is called bottom land, from the circumstance of its being overflown annually; or having at some former period formed part of the river's bed, which is indicated by the nature of the soil. The bluffs and bottoms invariably alternate; and when you have bluffs on one side, you are sure to have bottom on the other. The windings are extremely uniform, with few exceptions, curving in a serpentine form in so regular a manner, that the Indians always calculated the distance by the number of bends.
"The Falls" are improperly so termed, as this obstruction is nothing more than a gradual descent for a distance of about a mile and a half, where the water, forcing its way over a rugged rocky bottom, presents the appearance of a rapid. Below this the country is of various aspects—hills, bottom-land, and high rocky bluffs; and towards the mouth, cotton-wood trees, (populus angulata), and cane brakes, are interspersed along the banks. The junction of these two noble rivers, the Ohio and Mississippi, is really a splendid sight—the scenery is picturesque, and the water at the point of union is fully two miles broad.
The Mississippi[10] is in length, from its head waters to the balize in the gulf of Mexico, about two thousand three hundred miles, and flows through an immense variety of country. The section through which it passes, before its junction with the Missouri, is represented as being elegantly diversified with woodlands, prairies, and rich bottoms, and the banks are lined with a luxuriant growth of plants and flowers. Before reaching the Missouri, the water of the Mississippi is perfectly limpid; but, from the mouth of that river it becomes turgid and muddy—flows through a flat, inundated country, and seems more like an immense flood, than an old and deep-channelled river. As far as great things can be compared to small, it much resembles, within its banks, the Rhone when flooded, as it sweeps through the department of Vaucluse, after its junction with the Saone.
From St. Louis to New Orleans, a distance of twelve hundred miles, there are but six elevated points—the four Chickesaw bluffs, the Iron banks, and the Walnut hills. Numerous islands are interspersed through this river; and from the mouth of the Ohio, tall cotton-wood trees and cane-brakes grow in immense quantities along the banks; the latter, being evergreens, have a pleasing effect in the winter season. The windings of the Mississippi are, like those of the Ohio, constant, but not so serpentine, and some of them are of immense magnitude. You traverse every point of the compass in your passage up or down: for example, there is a bend near Bayou Placquamine, the length of which by the water is upwards of sixty miles, and from one point to the other across the distance is but three.
The town of "Baton Rouge" is situated about 190 miles above New Orleans, and contains a small garrison;—the esplanade runs down to the water's-edge, and the whole has a pretty effect. Here the sugar plantations commence, and the face of the country is again changed—you find yourself in the regions of the south. For a distance of from half-a-mile to two miles back, at each side, the land is planted with sugar-canes, and highly cultivated. The planters' houses are tastefully built, surrounded by gardens full of orange-trees, flowers, and evergreens, presenting the idea of perpetual spring, which here is indeed the case. The winters are seldom more severe than a mild spring in England. I first came in on this region at night, at the season of planting, when the cast or used canes are burned in heaps on each plantation. The dark turgid waters—the distant fires, surrounded by clouds of white smoke ascending in winding columns to the skies—the stillness of the night, interrupted only by the occasional cry of the pelican or the crane, and the monotonous thumping of the steam-boat paddles, formed a strange combination; and had the days of witches and warlocks not long since passed away, one would have sworn that these gentry were performing incantations over the mystic cauldrons, casting "seven bullets," or "raising spirits from the vasty deep."
The Mississippi is in few places more than from half-a-mile to a mile wide; and were one to judge of its magnitude by its breadth alone, a very erroneous estimate would be formed. It is only by contemplating the many vast rivers which empty themselves into the Mississippi that you can form a correct idea of the immense volume of water that flows through this channel into the Gulf of Mexico. Many of its larger tributary streams have the appearance of being as great as itself—the depth alone indicating the superiority of this mighty river over every other in America; and, considering its length, perhaps over any other in the world.
The great valley of the Mississippi extends, in length, from the Gulf of Mexico to a distance of nearly 3000 miles; and is in breadth, from the base of the Alleghanies to the foot of the Rocky mountains, about 2,500 miles. The soil is composed of alluvial deposits, to a depth of from twenty to fifty feet; and I have myself seen, near New Orleans, trees lying in the horizontal position six or seven feet below the surface. This valley has been frequently visited by earthquakes, which have sometimes changed part of the channel of the river, and at others formed lakes. Those which occurred between the years 1811 and 1813, did serious injury, particularly in the neighbourhood of New Madrid, near the west bank, below the mouth of the Ohio. At several points the bank is sunk eight or ten feet below the surface of the adjacent ground, with the trees remaining upright as before.
New Orleans is seated on the south-east bank of the Mississippi; and, following the sinuosities of the current, about 109 miles from the Gulf of Mexico. The river takes here a right-angular sweep, and the city proper is built on the exterior point of the bend, the fauxbourgs extending at each side along the banks. At high water the river rises three feet above any part of the city; consequently, were it not for levées that have been constructed here, and also along the banks of the river for more than a hundred miles, at both sides, above and below, the whole country would be periodically inundated. The fall from the levée to Bayou St. John, which communicates with Lac Pontchartrain, is about thirty feet, and the distance one mile. This fall is certainly inconsiderable; but I apprehend that it would be sufficient to drain the streets effectually, if proper attention were directed to that object.
The city extends only half-a-mile back, and, including the fauxbourgs, about two miles along the river. The streets, being only partially paved, can never be perfectly cleaned, and stagnant water remains in the kennels at all seasons; this and the exhalations from the swamps in warm weather, produce that pestilential scourge with which the place is annually afflicted. The mortality here last season (the autumn of 1829) has been variously stated in the public prints at from five to seven thousand, who died of the yellow fever in the space of about ten weeks. This statement, however, is erroneous; as, from information which I received from the sexton of the American grave-yard, and from the number of fresh graves which I saw there, I am inclined to think that the total amount falls short of 2500, out of a resident population of less than 40,000 souls. About 700 were buried in the American grave-yard, and perhaps double that number in that of the French.
The port of New Orleans presents the most extraordinary medley of any port in the world. Craft of every possible variety may be seen moored along the levées, and the markets and adjacent streets crowded with people of almost every nation in Europe, Africa, and America, who create a frightful confusion of tongues. A particular part of the quay is appropriated to each description of craft, and a penalty is enforced for any deviation from port regulations. The upper part is occupied with flat-boats, arks, peeroges, rafts, keel-boats, canoes, and steam-boats; and below these are stationed schooners, cutters, brigs, ships, &c., in regular succession. The levée is almost constantly filled with merchandize; and the scene of bustle and confusion which is exhibited here during the early part of the day, fully proves the large amount of commercial intercourse which this city enjoys.
When Louisiana was ceded to the United States, in 1803, Orleans was then entirely occupied by Creole-French and Spanish, consequently the majority of the habitations and public buildings, are in the French and Spanish style. The cathedral, which presents a handsome façade of about seventy feet, the town-hall, and courts, occupy one side of the place d'armes,—these, with the American theatre, the théâtre d'Orleans, or French opera house, the hospital, and three or four churches, are the only public buildings in the city. The houses are all flat-roofed, and those in the back streets and fauxbourgs are seldom more than one story high; the practice of building houses in this manner was pursued in order to avoid injury from tornadoes, which occasionally visit the valley of the Mississippi; latterly they have not been of frequent occurrence, although when they do arise, they are extremely violent. The town of Urbana, in Ohio, this year (1830) has been nearly destroyed by a visitation of this nature.
Pharo-banks, roulette-tables, and gambling of all kinds, are publicly permitted; but the proprietor of each establishment pays a tax of 5000 dollars per annum. The théâtre d'Orleans on Sunday evenings, is generally crowded with beautiful French women. Every night during the winter season there is a bal paré et masqué, and occasionally "quadroon balls," which are attended by the young men of the city and their chéres amies quadroons, who are decidedly the finest women in the country, being well formed, and graceful in their carriage. The Louisianians are prohibited by law from marrying with quadroons, although this caste is free, and many of them have been educated in France, and are highly accomplished.
In the south, slavery exists in its most unqualified condition, wanting those milder modifications which serve to dress and decorate the person of this ugly fiend. Here may be seen hundreds of animals of our own genus exposed in the public bazaars for sale, and examined with as much care, and precisely in the same manner, as we examine horses. In some of the slave states the law prohibits the separation of families, but this prohibition is little attended to, as the slave has no possibility of coming in contact with any dispensers of justice but the magistrates of the state, who, being slave-holders themselves, instead of redressing his grievances, would be more likely to order him a lashing, for presuming to complain. Many melancholy instances occur here, which clearly illustrate the evils of slavery and its demoralizing influence on the human character. The arguments against slavery are deduced from self-evident propositions, and must carry conviction to every well organized mind; yet from their application being of too general a character, they seldom interest the feelings, and in the end leave less impression than the simple statement of a particular occurrence. During my stay, a Doctor —— came down the river with thirty slaves, among which were an old negro and negress, each between sixty and seventy years of age; this unfortunate old woman had borne twenty-one children, all of whom had been at different times sold in the Orleans market, and carried into other states, and into distant parts of Louisiana. The Doctor said, in order to induce her to leave home quietly, that he was bringing her into Louisiana for the purpose of placing her with some of her children—"and now," says the old negress, "aldo I suckle my massa at dis breast, yet now he sell me to sugar planter, after he sell all my children away from me." This gentleman was a strict Methodist, or "saint," and is, I was informed, much esteemed by the preachers of that persuasion, because of his liberal contributions to their support.
Negresses, when young and likely, are often employed as wet nurses by white people, as also by either the planter or his friends, to administer to their sensual desires—this frequently as a matter of speculation, for if the offspring, a mulatto, be a handsome female, from 800 to 1000 dollars may be obtained for her in the Orleans market.[11] It is an occurrence of no uncommon nature to see the Christian father sell his own daughter, and the brother his own sister, by the same father. Slaves do not marry, but pair at discretion; and the more children they produce, the better for their masters.
On the Levée at New Orleans, are constantly exhibited specimens of the white man's humanity, in the persons of runaway slaves. When such an unfortunate negro is retaken, a log is chained to one of his legs, and round his neck is placed an iron collar, from which project three sharp prongs more than a foot in length each.