Trip to the West and Texas / comprising a journey of eight thousand miles, through New-York, Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, Louisiana and Texas, in the autumn and winter of 1834-5.

TRIP

TO THE

WEST AND TEXAS.

COMPRISING

A JOURNEY OF EIGHT THOUSAND MILES,

THROUGH

NEW-YORK, MICHIGAN, ILLINOIS, MISSOURI, LOUISIANA AND TEXAS, IN THE AUTUMN AND WINTER OF 1834-5.

INTERSPERSED WITH ANECDOTES, INCIDENTS AND OBSERVATIONS.

WITH A BRIEF SKETCH
OF THE
TEXIAN WAR.

BY A.A. PARKER, ESQ.

Second Edition.

CONCORD, N.H.:
PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM WHITE.
BOSTON:
BENJAMIN B. MUSSEY.
1836.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835,
By White & Fisher,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of New-Hampshire.

PREFACE.

The author of this work, unknown to fame, and unacquainted with the art of book-making, has endeavored, in the following pages, to give some account of the great Western and Southern Country. In performing this task, he has not attempted the regions of fancy and fiction; but has told his own story—"a plain unvarnished tale," in his own way. And although it may not indicate much depth of research, or possess all the graces of polished diction and charms of novelty, yet he hopes it may be found to contain information sufficient to repay a perusal.

He spent five months on his journey, and examined the country through which he passed, as much as time would permit:—Its soil, climate and productions—the manners, customs and health of the inhabitants—the animals, reptiles and insects—in short, all things favorable and unfavorable in the New World. He has freely spoken of the country just as it appeared to him; and he believes the information this work purports to give, may be safely relied upon. But if it should be found to contain errors of fact, or of opinion, he is confident they will be deemed unintentional.

It would have been quite easy to make a much larger book of the author's travels; and had he followed the example set him by some of the journalists of the day, he should have done so. But his object was not to make a large and expensive volume. He has given in a concise form, such descriptions, incidents and anecdotes only, as he believes may instruct and amuse, and enable the public to form a correct opinion of the country. How he has succeeded in his undertaking, others, of course, will judge for themselves; he hopes this little work may be found not entirely destitute of useful and entertaining matter, and prove an acceptable offering to his friends and fellow-citizens.

In the appendix, will be found a particular description of Michigan, and a Brief Sketch of the Texian Revolutionary War.

In this sketch, the author has consulted all the accounts given of this sanguinary war, and he believes it will be found correct in all its essential particulars: but he does not wish to conceal the fact, that amidst the hurry and bustle of a Revolution perfect accuracy is hardly attainable.

CONTENTS.

[ADVERTISEMENT.]

The public approbation of this work, so fully manifested by a rapid and entire sale of the first edition, has induced the publishers to issue another, much enlarged and improved edition. The broad expanse of country, stretching from the Alleghany mountains to the Pacific ocean, much of which is unsurveyed, unsettled and unexplored, is an interesting portion of the United States. It is believed, there are two hundred million acres of public lands yet unsurveyed in Wisconsin Territory—fifty millions in Michigan—and 800 millions in Missouri, Mississippi, and Arkansas. To all these, are to be added the illimitable tracts, hardly yet trodden by the foot of civilized man, which lie in the unpeopled immensity, on both sides of the rocky mountains. The value of this vast domain, at the minimum government price, defies all calculation. What a source of revenue for the present and the future!

But when the boundless resources that now lie hidden in its hills and mountains shall have become developed—when the vast plains shall have been settled—and towns, villages and farm houses arise in the lonely wilderness, and the teeming soil be cultivated—who then will be able to estimate the value of this great territory of the West? In ten years, the West will have a majority in the United States Congress; in a century, a large portion of it will contain a population as dense, perhaps, as that of the Atlantic States. Public attention, within a few years, has been directed to this section of our country—emigration has received a new impulse—government lands are sought for with avidity, and the whole country is rapidly settling. To the emigrant, speculator, and indeed, the whole people of the United States as joint owners of the public domain, any book giving information upon this subject, must be acceptable and of real value. The publishers, therefore, anticipate a rapid sale of the present edition.

TRIP
TO THE
WEST AND TEXAS.

[CHAPTER I.]

In September, 1834, I left Exeter, New-Hampshire, for the purpose of visiting the Western States and Texas. Although public attention had been for some time directed thither, by various published sketches and frequent emigration, yet so little was definitely known, that I was induced to travel through these sections of the country to learn their actual situation and condition. My object was not to visit the settled regions of the country, a full knowledge of which may be obtained from books, but to see some portion of the unknown and unsettled regions of the West and the South. My particular attention was, therefore, directed to Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, Louisiana and Texas.

But so rapidly are some portions of this new country settling; so constantly are new villages springing up in the wilderness; and so continually are improvements making, that history must continue to lag behind the reality. To keep any thing like an even pace with population, and the public constantly informed of the actual condition of the country, would require, like an almanac, an annual revision and publication of its history.

I took passage on board the stage, through Brattleborough and Bennington, to Albany. About twelve years ago, I travelled over this route, and was gratified to find so many improvements in the villages, farms, and especially in the stage road, since I had travelled it before. In passing through Vermont, I found a new road had been made to avoid the high hills over which it formerly passed, so that now, I believe this is the easiest and safest route across the Green Mountains.

Two opposition turnpikes were almost completed from Bennington to Troy—one entering at the upper, the other at the lower part of the city. The public have been badly accommodated in this quarter. The old road is rough, hilly and circuitous. One of the turnpikes would have been abundantly sufficient; but if Troy chooses to make two, the travelling public will not probably object. Opposition seems to be the order of the day; and although it has caused much improvement in the ease and facility of travelling, yet it is often troublesome and annoying. As we drove up to the door of the stage house in Albany, an agent of one of the steamboats, thrust in his head and gave us a handbill of a boat—enquired if we were going down the river, and without waiting for an answer, said it was a good boat, swift, low pressure engine, start at nine in the morning, fare to New-York city only fifty cents. In the bar-room, we had to pass through the same ceremony with the agent of another boat; and I had to take a third edition in the street next morning.

The Erie canal terminates in a large basin, immediately on the banks of the Hudson river, so that the freight of the canal boats can be conveniently transferred to the river boats. Western travellers can here take passage on board the canal boat, or go on the railroad to Schenectady and take a boat there. But as the canal is twice the distance of the railroad, travellers generally choose the latter. Travellers from the North, when accompanied by their families and baggage, usually stop at Troy, and take a canal boat there, for the West.

The ancient city of Albany has the appearance of much business and wealth; and some portions of it are pleasant, especially in the region of the State House and other public buildings. From the river, the ground rapidly rises, so that the city stands upon the side of a hill, and makes a fine appearance, when viewed from the opposite shore.

The railroad commences in State street, a short distance below the State House yard; and so steep is the ascent, that the cars are drawn for a mile by horses. Here a steam engine was hitched on, and we started off at a rapid rate. The distance from Albany to Schenectady is sixteen miles, and we travelled it over in less than an hour. Here we were assailed by the agents and captains of the canal boats, and those who could make the most noise and bustle, and obtain the most passengers, were the best fellows.

There are three kinds of boats in general use on the canal. The Packet boats, drawn by three horses, and go at the rate of about five miles an hour. They are fitted up in good style, intended exclusively for passengers and their baggage—having elegant cabins, drawing-rooms, berths, &c. Fare, five cents a mile and found.

The Line boats—designed for freight and passengers also. These are drawn by two horses, and travel at the rate of two and a half or three miles an hour. The fare is one cent a mile for passage only; and one and a half cents addition per mile, for board. Families travelling to the West, generally take the Line boats. They can travel much cheaper than in any other mode. They furnish their own provisions, and have the privilege of cooking on board the boat. Provisions are plenty and cheap, and can be bought at almost every stopping place, along the whole line of the canal.

And the Scows, used exclusively for grain, flour, lumber, &c., which are employed by the farmers to carry their own produce to market. These are drawn by two horses; and many of them have two sets of horses, and stalls made on board to keep one set, while the other draws the boat; and at regular intervals, relieve each other. By this means, they keep the boat continually going, night and day.

The Packet boats ply between the large towns on the canal, from Schenectady to Utica; from Utica to Rochester, &c., so that a traveller, in going through the whole route, must shift his baggage and himself from one boat to another, three or four times. But the Line boats run the whole length of the canal, from Albany or Troy to Buffalo.—These boats are furnished with horses by a company, who have them stationed at regular intervals of about twelve miles the whole distance.

All the boats, at night, carry two brilliant lights in the bow, so as to enable the helmsman to steer, and avoid other boats when they meet. I took passage on board one of the Troy and Erie line. I found good accommodations, and good company. In the forward part of the boat, were the gentlemen's and ladies' cabins; in the stern, the dining and cook rooms; and in the centre the place for freight. It was about seventy feet long, and twelve or fourteen feet in width. Three other passengers, besides myself, went the whole route; a lady and her daughter from Pennsylvania, and a Dr. Warren of Rhode Island; and way-passengers were continually coming aboard, and leaving the boat, at our several stopping places. I found travelling on the canal pleasant, and in fine weather, delightful. We were continually passing villages, farms, locks, viaducts, or boats; and these, with the company aboard, afforded an agreeable variety. When I wished for exercise, I would jump ashore, and take a walk along the hard trod tow-path.

I was really surprised to find so many boats on the canal. We met them almost every mile, and sometimes, three or four together. The Line boats are owned by companies; and the captain told me that forty-five boats belonged to his line. When one happens to run aground, which is sometimes the case, when deeply laden and the water low, it is of course, in the centre of the canal; so that boats cannot pass on either side; in such an event, twenty or thirty boats will be congregated in a few hours.

The boats pass each other on the left hand side, and without trouble or delay. The whole process of passing belongs to the outside boat; or the one the farthest from the tow-path. All the inside boat has to do, is to steer near the tow-path, and keep on as usual. The outside boat hauls one way, and their horses the other, and lets the tow-rope slack, so that the inside horses and boat can pass over it, between them. The tow-path sometimes changes from one side to the other of the canal; and the horses are transferred by means of a bridge. They pass underneath the bridge, and turn up on to it the further side; so as to keep the tow-rope clear of it. The riders display their horsemanship by whipping over these bridges at full speed. Accidents, however, sometimes occur. One day, the Packet boat passed us, a short distance from a tow-path bridge; and as the horses were going at full speed across it, the forward one slipped, fell over the railing, and drew the others after him. The rider saved himself by leaping from the horse to the bridge. The two forward horses fell into the water, and came out uninjured; but the rear one fell across the edge of the tow-path and was killed on the spot.

The Erie canal is a great and noble work; and has gained a niche in the temple of fame, for its great founder. It has been of incalculable benefit to New-York, and the rising States in the West; and must continue to be, in all time to come. Now it is completed, and in successful operation, men may cease to wonder; but so improbable was it generally thought to be, to make such a long line of canal, on a route so difficult and expensive, that an intelligent gentleman informed me, when he was asked by one of the surveyors, if he should not admire to see boats passing before his door; emphatically replied, if life were guaranteed till that event, he would then willingly resign it. A few years only passed, before the event did happen, but he is not yet quite willing to die.

It was indeed a great undertaking. None but a man of a gigantic mind, of steady purpose and firm resolution, could have conceived, planned and executed it. It all along bears the marks of so much labor and expense, that a common mind would have been deterred from making the attempt. The canal passes over an extent of country much more rough, broken and hilly than I had supposed. Long levels of canal are found to be sure; but they are made at great expense, by filling up deep gullies, winding round the side of hills, or deep cuts through them; and by walling up the side of streams, or aqueducts over them.

Every few miles, the canal passes through a village. Many of these have sprung into existence, since the completion of the canal; and others have much increased in size, wealth and beauty. They are all ornamented with grog-shops, containing, among other miscellaneous matter, an abundant supply of "boat-stores."

New-York has a great variety of romantic scenery. It has more beautiful and stupendous water-falls than any other State in the Union; and the lover of nature's choicest works might very pleasantly spend months in viewing them. Trenton Falls, on the West Canada Creek, a large stream that empties into the Mohawk, are situated about twenty-four miles above its mouth. They consist of several chutes for the distance of two miles, commencing near Black river road, and terminating at Conrad's mills. The upper fall is about twenty feet; and the descent above, for two miles, is not less than sixty feet. The water, here compressed into a narrow space, is received into a large basin, rolls down a precipitous ravine a hundred feet in depth, and presents to the eye the most romantic peculiarities.—Some of the topmost crags overhanging the stream; and here and there, a hardy tree, having gained a foot-hold in the crevices of the rock, throws its branches athwart the abyss. There are six distinct falls. The next below, are two pitches, called the Cascades; where the water falls eighteen feet—the Mill Dam Fall, of thirteen feet.

The High Falls, consisting of three pitches—one of forty-eight, the second of eleven, and the third, of thirty-seven feet—Sherman's Falls, of thirty-five feet. The last fall is at Conrad's mills, and is only six feet; but the descent of water, from the top of the upper fall to the lower one, is three hundred and eighty-seven feet—and the whole forms as wild and romantic a scene as the enthusiastic lover of nature's most eccentric works could desire. Organic remains have been found in the ravine in abundance, and Mr. Sherman has a cabinet of them, which are exhibited to the curious.

Ithaca Falls are situated at the head of Cayuga Lake. The high fall of Fall river is the first that strikes the eye, in going from the steamboat landing to the village, and is one hundred and sixteen feet in height. Two immense piles of rocks enclose the stream. On the right hand high up the bluff, a mill-race is seen winding around a point in the bank, suspended in mid air; and sometimes an adventurous visitor, may be seen cautiously wending his way along the dizzy path on the verge of the abyss. The mill-race was built, by letting a man down over the giddy steep by a rope fastened to a tree above, who dug holes in the bluff, in which to fasten its principal supports. A short distance from this, up the rocky bed of the creek, is another splendid fall—not so high as the first, but more wild and beautiful. Above these, are three more falls, the upper one of which is the highest fall of water of any, and is the most grand and imposing. These four falls have a descent of four hundred and thirty-eight feet in the short distance of a mile, and present to the eye as great a variety of the romantic and beautiful in nature, as earth affords.

There are Cascadilla, Six Mile Creek, Buttermilk Creek, &c. &c. many romantic scenes and splendid falls; but it would interfere with the design of this work to stop to describe them. I cannot, however, leave the high falls on Taghcanic Creek without a passing notice. They are eight miles from Ithaca, near a landing place called Goodwin's point; and are two hundred and thirty-eight feet perpendicular! Who shall attempt to describe such a magnificent exhibition as this; or the effect it produces on the mind! This is said to be the favorite resort of parties of pleasure and lovers of the picturesque. And who, but the real invalid, would ignobly spend his time at Saratoga, when scenes like these await him in the interior of New-York.

After passing many fine villages, we at last arrived at the city of Rochester. It is indeed, a large and flourishing city. It is situated on both sides of the Genesee river, is well built, mostly of brick, and contains over thirteen thousand inhabitants. Near the upper part of the city, the canal crosses the river, by a splendid aqueduct of red free-stone, eight hundred and four feet in length, having eleven arches, and elevated fourteen feet above the common level of the water. While the boat stopped, I went down the river to see the great falls. They are about eighty rods below where the canal crosses, and are ninety-seven feet perpendicular. Here Sam Patch made his last leap in the autumn of 1829. In the centre of the river, and at the verge of the precipice over which the water falls, is a ledge of rocks, called Table Rock, about six or seven feet in height above the water. On this Table Rock, a scaffold was erected, about twenty-five feet high, so that from the top of the scaffold to the bottom of the falls, the perpendicular height was one hundred and twenty-five feet. From this giddy height, Sam Patch made his "last jump," in the presence of a vast multitude of people, who had assembled to witness this daring feat, and, as it proved, fatal leap. Sam never rose from the boiling flood below; but his body was carried by the current to the mouth of the river at the lake, and was there found, the next spring. Who will be the biographer of Sam Patch? What a pity it is some phrenologist had not examined his head. He must have had a tremendous jumping bump. For myself, I could not stand on the dizzy brink of the river, and look down into the awful chasm below, with any tolerable degree of composure. These things, however, much depend upon practice. A sailor would have thought nothing of standing on the most projecting rock; or of walking along the highest precipice.

In 1811, the site of Rochester was a wilderness; now it is a large city. Its great staple of trade is flour. It contains eleven flouring mills with fifty-three run of stones; and can grind twelve thousand bushels of wheat in twenty-four hours.

After travelling from this place sixty-three miles, we found ourselves at Lockport, on the mountain ridge. At this place, the canal has a double row of locks adjacent to each other; five for ascending, and five for descending; each twelve feet deep, making the ascent sixty feet. This is the most admirable work of the whole canal. Between the two rows of locks, are stone steps, guarded on each side by iron railings. In 1821, there were here but two houses; now, it contains four hundred, and is a pleasant village.

Passengers for Niagara Falls, leave the canal here, as they are as near them, at this place, as they would be at Buffalo. After travelling nineteen miles, the first three of which, was through a deep cut of limestone, from twenty to thirty feet in depth, we came in full view of the majestic Niagara river. On the margin of this stream, the canal passes by the village of Black Rock, to its termination at the city of Buffalo.

[CHAPTER II.]

The city of Buffalo is beautifully situated on lake Erie, near its outlet; and possesses the advantages of a lake and canal navigation. It is built chiefly of brick, containing many elegant buildings, and has ten or twelve thousand inhabitants. In the harbor lay many vessels, steamboats and canal boats, and it exhibited all the show, stir and bustle of a maritime city. From this place, you have a fine view of the lake, Canada shore, and the surrounding country. I was, at this time, only twenty-three miles from the celebrated Falls of Niagara, and I could not pass so near without going to view them.

After spending a day in Buffalo, I took a steamboat down Niagara river, to visit the falls. On the Canada side, you have a view of the small village of Waterloo, near which, are the ruins of fort Erie, the theatre of several severe battles during the late war. On the American side, three miles below Buffalo, is Black Rock, a pleasant village, having much romantic scenery around it. Niagara river, above the falls, is of various breadths, from a mile and a half, to three or four miles. After passing Grand island, I beheld the spray arising like a cloud, from the falls; and could hear the roaring of the water. I landed from the boat, about two miles above them on the American side, and took a stage. Immediately on alighting at the hotel, I walked down to the river, and beheld for the first time, the celebrated Falls of Niagara. Such a vast body of water, falling into so deep a chasm, with a noise like thunder, and with such power that it shakes the ground on which you stand, strikes one with wonder and awe! One is inclined to stand still, and gaze in silence. Other falls and deep chasms I had seen; but this presented itself on such a gigantic scale, and so much out of proportion to other objects of the kind, that it appeared to my unpractised eye incomprehensible. Other and abler pens have given the world many minute descriptions of these falls; and were it otherwise, I have not the vanity to suppose any description I could give would enable any one to form a full and just conception of them.

Nature has here laid out her work upon a large scale, and with a master hand. A mighty river, the outpourings of the great lakes above, tumbling rapidly along for a mile over its rocky bed, here leaps quietly down one hundred and sixty feet into the awful chasm below. Above the falls, the banks slope gently down to the water's edge; so that you can stand on the brink of the precipice, and put your foot into the water where it rolls over it—below, the bank immediately rises, and forms a chasm three hundred feet in depth. Eight or ten rods below the falls, is the passage down to the ferry; composed, most of the way, of enclosed wooden steps; and the remainder, of steps made in the rocky cliff. I went down these steps, crossed over in the boat, tossed to and fro by the boiling, raging flood; and liberally sprinkled with the spray of the falls. On the Canada side, the bank is not perpendicular, so that a zigzag road has been made for passengers to travel up and down it. On this side, is the Table Rock, near the falls; and here you have the best view of them. At this spot a flight of steps lead to the bottom; and from this point a person can go one hundred and fifty-three feet under the sheet of water. Dresses and a guide are furnished to those who have the curiosity to enter.

On my return to the American side, I walked over the bridge to Bath island, and from that to Goat island. This last island contains perhaps twelve acres, is covered with a fine growth of wood, has a walk near the water, all around it, and benches and summer house to rest the weary traveller. It divides the falls, and is probably twenty rods wide on the cliff, over which the water pitches. At the foot of this island, a circular enclosed stairway has been built by N. Biddle, Esq. President of the U.S. Bank, by which a person can descend down the cliff, between the two sheets of water. And here it was that Sam Patch leaped one hundred and eighteen feet from a platform, made by ladders. The trees on the island are covered with names; and the register at the hotel not only contains names, but sentiments also. I spent an evening very pleasantly in conning them over.

On the Canada side there are one large hotel and some few dwelling houses; on the American side, are two large hotels, and a fine village, called Manchester. After spending two days at the falls, I took a seat in the stage for Buffalo.

New-York, I believe, possesses more of the sublime and beautiful, than all the remainder of the United States. It has its mountains, lakes, springs, rivers, water-falls, canals, railroads and edifices.—Other States can shew some of these, in a greater or less degree; but as a whole, New-York must bear the palm. Its resources are vast—it is a nation of itself. But notwithstanding its attractive scenery and rich lands, the "western fever" rages here as violent as on the sterile hills of New-Hampshire. I found more families from New-York at the West and moving thither, than from all the New-England States. They, too, seek a better country; and some would undoubtedly be discontented if they lived in paradise.

At Detroit, I saw a man who said he had just made a purchase of a tract of land near Pontiac, about thirty miles distant in a northwest direction. He lived near Rochester, had a fine farm, raised from five hundred to one thousand bushels of wheat a year; a ready market and the average price one dollar a bushel; clear of debt, and growing rich; but the lands were cheap at the West, so he sold his farm, and was moving into the wilderness! The man was about sixty years of age: so if he has good luck, by the time he gets a farm well cleared, a good house and improvements, he will be too old to enjoy earthly possessions. But just the same feeling is manifested in Kentucky, Ohio and Indiana. And even in Illinois itself, some I found, seeking a better country farther west!

Persons travelling to Illinois, or farther west, can take passage in a vessel or steamboat from Buffalo to Chicago. The distance by water is one thousand miles; for they must go through lake Erie, St. Clair, Huron and lake Michigan. The distance by land is not so far by one half; but the water passage is the cheapest, attended with less hardship, and much the best way to convey goods. There are two other routes to Chicago. Take a steamboat at Buffalo for Monroe, in Michigan Territory; and from thence, there is a good stage route, through Tecumseh, Niles, Michigan city, and along the south end of the lake Michigan to Chicago—or take a steamboat to Detroit; from thence the stage to the mouth of St. Joseph, and cross the lake in a schooner to Chicago. My object was to see something of Michigan; so I took passage in a steamboat for Detroit.

On board this boat, there were probably two hundred passengers; besides a number of horses and oxen, wagons, household furniture and baggage.—Most of them were emigrants, chiefly destined to some part of Michigan. The cabin passage is eight dollars—deck three dollars. Of the whole number not more than ten took the cabin passage. We stopped at Portland, Erie, Ashtabula, Fairport, Cleaveland and Sandusky, and arrived at Detroit in two days—distance three hundred and five miles.

Cleaveland is the most important place on the south shore of lake Erie. The Ohio canal here enters the lake, so that a person can go down this canal into the Ohio river; and from thence take steamboat conveyance to the western States. It is quite a large town; containing five thousand inhabitants, and has three spacious houses for public worship, a seamen's chapel, and two banks. There are three newspapers published here, and it shows all the stir and bustle of business and trade. This place has rapidly increased within a few years: and if it continues to improve in the same ratio, it will soon take its station alongside of Buffalo and Cincinnati. Its inhabitants are very spirited and enterprising. They have contributed, as I am informed, fifteen thousand dollars for the purpose of levelling down some of the high bluffs between the village and harbor, and grading the streets.

The flood of emigration, constantly pouring onward, to the far West, is immense. In the year 1833, about sixty thousand emigrants left Buffalo, to go to the West by water; and in 1834, not less than eighty thousand there embarked, besides those who took passage from other ports. No calculation can be made, of the number that have passed along the south shore of the lake by land; but, I was informed, a gentleman counted two hundred and fifty wagons in one day!

The western world is all alive. The lakes, the streams, the prairies, and forests, are all teeming with life, and exhibit all the noise and bustle of human industry and enterprise. In 1825 there were but one steamboat and a few small schooners on lake Erie; now there are thirty steamboats, and one hundred and fifty schooners and two large brigs! And the birds and beasts of the forest are continually alarmed at the sight of human habitations and villages, so suddenly arising, within their own exclusive haunts and pleasure grounds! Monroe, in Michigan, is pleasantly situated on the river Raisin, opposite to Frenchtown, and is six miles from its mouth. It is forty miles, by water, south of Detroit, and is the county seat for Monroe county, has a court house, jail, land office, three hotels, twenty-six stores, and probably two thousand inhabitants. It is situated in a fertile district, and has a number of mills and distilleries in its vicinity. A beautiful large steamboat, called the Monroe, was built here, the past season, and made its first trip down the lake while I was at Buffalo. As this town is nearer on a direct line from Buffalo to the West than Detroit, it will shortly become the great thoroughfare of travel to the western country.

A new town has recently been laid out, on the north bank of the Maumee river. It takes the name of the river; and is situated on a plat of table land elevated forty feet above the stream, at the foot of the falls, and ten miles from lake Erie. The river is deep and navigable for all vessels sailing on the lake. The falls are about thirty feet, and afford an immense water power—equal to that of Lowell. It has now fifty dwelling houses, three stores, one tavern, a saw and grist mill; and preparations are making to erect a large number of buildings the ensuing season, among which are four taverns. Two doctors are already settled here; and a limb of the law was on the track to join them. A glance at the map will at once show its favorable location, for a large and flourishing town. The Wabash and Erie canal, and the Cincinnati, Dayton and Erie canal, will both terminate at this place. It is situated in the disputed territory, claimed by both Ohio and Michigan; but if it should prove to be healthy, it will soon take rank with Cleaveland and Detroit. It is thirty miles south of Monroe; and about the same distance west of Lower Sandusky. A large steamboat is now building here, to run on the lake.

On the opposite side of the river, and about a mile above, is the village of Perrysburg, of a hundred houses and twelve stores; but as its site is low, and on the shoal side of the river, its location is not therefore so favorable as that of Maumee. There are large tracts of flat land, both to the east and west of this place, covered with a heavy growth of timber.

Detroit is on the river, twenty-five miles above lake Erie, and seven below lake St. Clair. The river is about a mile wide, and the current sets down at the rate of from two to three miles an hour. It contains about three thousand inhabitants; many of whom are French and some negroes and Indians. Much business is done here; and it will probably be one of the most important frontier towns; as it possesses a safe harbor and steamboat navigation to Buffalo, Michilimackinac, Green Bay, Chicago, &c. It is well laid out, and has some fine streets and buildings. Its public buildings are a court house, jail, academy, council house, two banks; a Presbyterian, Episcopalian, Methodist, Baptist and Catholic churches; arsenal, magazine and commissary store house.

The streets near the water are dirty, generally having mean buildings, rather too many grog shops among them, and a good deal too much noise and dissipation. The taverns are not generally under the best regulations, although they were crowded to overflowing. I stopped at the steamboat hotel, and I thought enough grog was sold at that bar to satisfy any reasonable demand for the whole village.—When the bell rang for dinner, I hardly knew what it meant. All in and about the house jumped and run as if the house had been on fire; and I thought that to have been the case. I followed the multitude, and found they were only going into the hall to dinner. It was a rough and tumble game at knife and fork—and whoever got seated first, and obtained the best portion of dinner, was the best fellow. Those who came after, must take care of themselves the best way they could; and were not always able to obtain a very abundant supply.

At night, I was obliged to sleep in a small room, having three beds in it, take a companion and a dirty bed. In travelling, I am always disposed to make the best of every thing, and complain of nothing if it can be avoided. And in starting on this journey, I was aware that I might suffer some hardships and inconveniences; and I had determined to bear with patience every thing that was bearable; but I had not expected to be put to the test in the old settled town of Detroit. The house is large enough, and servants enough, but there was a plentiful lack of decent accommodations, in and about it.

The upper streets make a fine appearance, and are pleasant and ornamented with some fine buildings.

Two steam ferry boats ply constantly between this, and a small village called Sandwich, on the Canada side of the river. On a pleasant afternoon, I crossed the river, and walked three or four miles on the pleasant Canada shore. From this position, Detroit shows to advantage.

Detroit has suffered much by disease. Fevers, ague and cholera, swept off its hundreds. But it is difficult to discover any other cause for the great number of deaths, than the filthiness of the place, and the dissipation and exposure of many of its inhabitants. It needs reform; and I was informed that the subject had arrested the attention of its best citizens, and they had commenced the work in good earnest.

[CHAPTER III.]

After spending two days at Detroit, I took the stage for the mouth of St. Joseph river, on lake Michigan—fare $9,50. The old road leads down the river, five or six miles, and then inclines to the right into the interior. The first forty miles is a level, heavily timbered country; a deep, clayey soil, and a most execrable road. Sometimes the coach became fast stuck in the deep sloughs; and we had to get out the best way we could, and help dig it out. At others, we found logs laid across the road for some distance, and the coach jolted so violently over them, that it was impossible to keep our seat. We started early in the morning from Detroit, and at ten miles stopped at a decent hotel to breakfast. It was a framed house, and of sufficient size for a common country tavern.

In this day's travel, we found some good dwellings, and one brick hotel. Late at night, "wearied and worn," we arrived at Ann Arbor, a flourishing little village on Huron river, which empties into the head of lake Erie, and is a large clear mill stream. The tavern house is a large, three story building, finished and painted. A long block of buildings for stores, a number of mills on the stream, and a few other buildings, complete the village.

In the morning we crossed the river, on a very good bridge, and half a mile further, entered the upper village of Ann Arbor, much larger than the lower one; having two taverns, a number of stores, dwelling houses, and a court house. It is the seat of justice for Washtenaw county. Ten miles below this, on the Huron river, is situated Upsilanti, a pleasant village. The turnpike road from Detroit to Chicago passes through it; on which a stage runs, carrying the U.S. mail.

Soon after leaving this village, we came to the "oak openings." There are three kinds of land in the western country—prairie land, entirely destitute of timber, and covered with grass; oak openings, land thinly covered with timber, like a northern apple orchard; and the timber land, having a dense forest of trees. All these diversities of appearance, we found from Detroit to the mouth of the St. Joseph; although the bur and white oak openings seemed to predominate.

Michigan is a level country; there are no mountains in it. It is gently undulating, for the most part; sometimes, too level and wet. It is abundantly watered and timbered, and a great deal of excellent timber. I wish I could say as much of the quality of the water. The rivers, little lakes, (and there are many of them,) streams, springs, and wells, contain clear, pellucid, transparent water. It is indeed, too clear to be agreeable to the eye; but it is all impregnated with lime, or iron, or copperas, or something disagreeable to the taste; and is in many places, very unhealthy. I do believe there is not a drop of pure, soft water, in all Michigan. I saw none and could hear of none; and I made much inquiry, examined every river, lake, or spring, that I passed, and the result was, I found no pure water that would wash with soap, or was pleasant to the palate.

It contains much good land, many pleasant villages, fine situations, and is settling fast; but I cannot say that it is, generally, healthy.

It is probable, earth does not afford more rich and beautiful prairies than are found on the route from Monroe to Michigan city. And there are fine cultivated farms, mills and villages, and scattered settlements, all along the southern part of the territory. But I did not find the ruddy face and vigorous step of the East. The meagre and pale visage, and shaking frame, spoke a language not to be mistaken.

We passed Jackson, the seat of justice for Jackson county, near Grand river, and Marshall, the seat of justice for Calhoun county, on the bank of the Kalamazoo river, both flourishing villages. In this section of the country, mill seats are plenty, and there is an abundant supply of timber.

At the outlet of Gull lake, I saw a well built mill, on as fine a privilege as any one could desire. At the lake, there was a dam, which raised the water four or five feet, and made an abundant supply in the driest season—and fifty rods below where the mill was erected, there was a good fall of water.

Soon after leaving this mill, we came to Gull prairie. This was the first prairie of much extent that I had seen; and its elegant appearance afforded me not a little pleasure. On this prairie there is a small village, and a beautiful prospect around it.

The roads had become so bad, that we left the stage coach, after two day's ride, and took a wagon, without any spring seats; and I found it so fatiguing to ride, that I often preferred walking. When we arrived at this little village, it was late in the evening, but we had still twelve miles to go that night.

It was past midnight when we crossed the Kalamazoo river, at the rope ferry, and entered the town of Bronson. This is the seat of justice, or as the term is here, county seat, for Kalamazoo county. The land office, for the southern part of the territory, is also kept here. We found a large tavern house and good accommodations, a pleasant village, and pleasant people.

Our route now lay through an undulating, open country for twenty miles, when we came to a house and mill on Pawpaw river where we "ate our breakfast for our dinner." We now crossed the stream, and travelled a new road, generally through timbered land, passed seven or eight small lakes, for twenty-eight miles before we came to a house.

Here, we found two log houses adjoining each other. It had now become night, and at this place we were to stay till the next day. I went in, and asked the woman, if she could get us something to eat. She said, if we would accept of such fare as she had, she would try. When we went in to supper, I never was more agreeably surprised in my life. We found a table neatly set; and upon it, venison steaks, good warm wheat bread, good butter, wild honey in the white comb, and a good cup of tea—better fare than we had found in Michigan, and as good as could be obtained anywhere. Our accommodations at this log house in the woods, show what people may do if they choose. And I wish some tavern keepers of our large towns, might happen to call there, and learn a lesson which they seem too much disinclined to learn at home. Our bill was so moderate, we added a dollar to it, and hardly thought we had fully paid our hostess then.

Twelve miles further, brought us to the river St. Joseph, about a mile above where it empties into the lake. The river here is thirty rods wide. We crossed it in a ferry boat, and after ascending a high bluff, we came in full view of lake Michigan and the St. Joseph village.

This village is pleasantly situated on a high bluff, on the south side of the river, and facing the lake; and contains sixty or seventy houses, two taverns, some half dozen stores, two large warehouses, and a light house. One tavern, the stores, and a few dwelling houses, are built underneath the bluff, on the bank of the river. A steamboat plies between this place and Niles, fifty miles up the river, as it runs, but only twenty-five miles by land. Just above the village, is a steam saw mill, which does a good deal of business. This place carries on considerable trade with the interior; the staple of which is wheat.

St. Joseph is very unhealthy. At the tavern, I found three persons sick, and one dangerously so. I called upon the doctor, and he was sick abed; I called upon the baker, and he was sick abed—and I passed by another house, where the whole family, consisting of a man, his wife, and five children, were all sick abed, and so completely helpless, that the neighbors had to take care of them! This is no fiction. The man's name is Emerson; from the State of New-York. Last spring he came on to this part of the country with his family and goods in a wagon. And when he came to Pawpaw river, where we breakfasted, he found no road direct to St. Joseph. He accordingly cut out the road that we had travelled to this place, and was the first who came through with a wagon, a distance of about fifty miles. Soon after his arrival, his eldest son, a promising youth of fifteen, accidentally was drowned in the river. The family, one by one, were taken sick; and now, all were sick and helpless. The man possessed great vigor of mind and body; had bought him a farm at some distance from the village on the road he had made, and commenced some improvements, and made great efforts to persevere and clear it up. But who can withstand the iron grasp of disease, or the "bold demands of death!" He beheld his family wasting away and to all appearance, hastening to the grave; and himself, as sick and helpless as they. A sad catastrophe this, in his prospect of wealth and bliss in the new world!

A schooner, called the Philip, plies regularly between this, and Chicago across the lake; but I had to wait here three days before its return. I spent the time in traversing the woods and the lake shore. This lake is a clear, beautiful sheet of water, having a soft sandy shore, and surrounded by high sandy hills. The river makes a good harbor, but there is a sand bar at its mouth, on which there is not more than five or six feet of water. The average width of the lake is sixty miles.

The distance from Detroit to St. Joseph is two hundred miles, and we had been five days and a half in travelling it. The road was as good as could be expected in a country so new, and so thinly inhabited. The land generally is good, and will support a dense population. The southern part of the territory is thought to contain the best land, and there are indeed some beautiful prairies. Prairie Round is among the most beautiful. It contains a number of thousand acres of high, level, and smooth land; and in the centre there are a hundred acres of higher land, covered with a beautiful growth of trees.

The best part of Indiana is on the border of Michigan, and extending south, on the Wabash river. The southern part of the State contains a good deal of hilly, rocky and sandy land, unfit for cultivation.

A territorial road has been laid out from Detroit to St. Joseph; and a survey of a railroad has been made, nearly on the line of the road, between the two places; but some time will elapse, before either are completed.

Wild game is plenty; deer, ducks, bears, wolves and squirrels are in sufficient quantity to keep the hunter awake.

Upon the whole, if good water and good health could be found, Michigan would be a very desirable country in which to reside.

As soon as the vessel was ready to depart, I took passage in her. We sailed round the south end of the lake, and stopped at Michigan city, a village of twenty or thirty houses, and twelve stores, situated on the corner of Indiana, among the sand hills of the lake. A small stream here empties into the lake but affords no harbor for vessels. Some enterprising citizens have determined to make it a large town; but nature does not seem much to have seconded their efforts. It is forty miles from St. Joseph, and just the same distance from Chicago. The stage road, from Michigan city to Chicago, is, most of the way, on the sandy beach.

[CHAPTER IV.]

Chicago makes a fine appearance when viewed from the water. It has a light house, fort and barracks in which a garrison is kept, and many elegant buildings. It is regularly laid out, on the south side of Chicago river; the streets running parallel with it, and others crossing them at right angles. The harbor being too much exposed, a breakwater is building, so as to render it secure and safe for the shipping. The town is already compactly built, for more than a mile in length, and about half that distance in width; and there are a dozen houses on the north side of the river, with which it is connected by an elegant bridge. It has thirty-six stores, some of which are large and elegant, and built of brick; and seven large taverns, filled with guests to overflowing. It is now, about the size of Exeter, in New-Hampshire, and is rapidly increasing. Vessels and steamboats come here from Buffalo, laden with goods and merchandize; and it is the great thoroughfare for travel to the western country. The trade of all the upper country centres here; and when the canal is completed, connecting the lake with the waters of the Illinois river, it must become the largest town in the State. It is built on a level prairie, open in full view to the lake, and the soil is enough mixed with sand to prevent its being very muddy. The lake supplies the town with good, wholesome water, and as far as I could judge, it is quite healthy.

While I was at Chicago, the Pottawattomie tribe of Indians, came there to receive their annuity from the United States government. I could not accurately ascertain their number, but probably, there were between one and two thousand, men, women and children. I had before seen the small remnants of Indian tribes at the north; but never had I seen such a large body of western Indians assembled together. I had much curiosity to see them, and learn something of the Indian character. In this I was fully gratified.

Those who have formed high notions of the stateliness and chivalry of the Indian character, might gain some new ideas, by witnessing, day after day, the actions and movements of the Pottawattomies. It is painful to state it, but truth compels me to say, their appearance was, with but few exceptions, that of a drunken set of miserable vagabonds. They were generally mounted on horseback, men, women and children; some had small bells for their horses—some had blankets on, and others had coats and pantaloons, similar to the whites; and many of them, had jewels in the nose and ears, and the face painted in various colors and forms, so as to give them either a ludicrous, or a terrific appearance.

To all this, perhaps, no one has a right seriously to object. It is merely a matter of taste; and if they choose to exhibit themselves in the various hues of the rainbow, or in the terrific aspect of a warrior, I am willing they should be gratified. But their actions were beneath the dignity of man, or of beast. They encamped near the town, on the border of the lake; and above it, on the margin of the river. I walked all through their encampment, and saw them frequently in the streets. I found them, generally, bickering, quarrelling, or fighting; or running their horses through the town, and displaying all the antics of madmen. Day after day, and night after night, they were carousing, shouting and fighting. On the lake shore, one of them killed his wife, by splitting her head open with a hatchet, and then fled! I did not learn what became of him.

They are also much addicted to theft. Too lazy to work, they had rather steal whatever they desire, that comes in their way; and this propensity and practice has been a fruitful source of the border wars, between the whites and Indians.

I have seen hundreds of negroes together on their holidays; when they had free access to intoxicating liquor if they chose; when they gave themselves up to pastime and pleasure; and I do say, they appeared much more civil and decent to themselves and to others, than the Indians. They did not seem, like the Indians, to lose all self respect. The negroes generally appear to possess amiable dispositions; and are faithful friends; are much more pliant and teachable; and if I must dwell with either negroes or Indians, give me the negroes.

If the former mode of paying the government annuity to the chief of a tribe, were objectionable, the present mode of paying each individual, seems to me to be equally, if not more objectionable. I was informed that the gross sum of seventy thousand dollars was paid to them individually; each one an equal portion of that amount. But after spending a few days in carousing at Chicago, they left the town as they will finally leave the world—carrying nothing with them!

It appears to me, some different regulations, respecting the Indians, ought to be adopted. The money now paid them, upon the whole, seems to do them more hurt than good. Might not the government pay them in specific articles, instead of money, such as blankets, clothing, implements of husbandry, &c. There would not be then quite so much inducement for speculators to prey upon them.

As to civilization, I am not so sanguine as some are, that it can be done. The Indians seem to be naturally averse to the restraints and labor of civilized life. To beg or steal is much more agreeable to them, than to labor for subsistence. Any thing that looks like work, they despise. In all cases, where they have come in contact with the whites, it has been death to the Indian. At the approach of civilization, they wither away and die; and the remnants of tribes must flee away to the fastnesses of the wilderness, or perish in the withering grasp of civilized man. They are to be pitied; but their unprovoked murders and savage cruelties have steeled the heart against them. Their cold-blooded murders, in the late war in Illinois, of men, women and children, and their indecent mutilation and exposure of their bodies when dead, cannot soon be forgotten or forgiven. Black Hawk, the cold-blooded instigator and leader in this war, dared not return from his trip to the East through Chicago, and the theatre of his cruelties. He probably will never again set his foot on the eastern shore of the Mississippi.

The country back of Chicago, for the distance of twelve miles, is a smooth, level prairie; producing an abundance of grass, but too low and wet for cultivation. The Chicago river is formed by two branches, which meet at the upper end of the village. The branches come from exactly opposite directions, and after running some distance, parallel with the lake, and about a mile from it, here meet each other, and turning at right angles, flow in a regular straight channel, like a canal, into the lake. On each side of the town, between these branches and the lake shore, there is, for some distance, a good growth of wood and timber. On the lake shore, there are naked sand hills; and these are found all around the lake.

This world has undergone great changes since its original creation. In examining the western country, I came to the conclusion, that a large portion of it was once under water; and that the lakes formerly discharged their waters into the sea, through the Illinois and Mississippi rivers.

The lakes Michigan, Huron, St. Clair and Erie, are now about twenty-five feet lower than lake Superior. The falls of St. Mary, at the outlet of the upper lake, are nothing more than rapids. The water descends twenty-two feet in the distance of three quarters of a mile; and although canoes can pass them either way, yet they are impassable to steamboats and vessels. Some years ago, a large vessel did go down them in safety. It was built on lake Superior, by the north-western Fur Company, but was found to be too large to be useful in their trade. It was taken to the falls of St. Mary, and some Indians were hired to take it down the rapids. They happened to go down in safety; and the vessel was afterwards sold at Buffalo. Now, the probability is, that these lower lakes were once nearly on a level with lake Superior; and their outlet was at the south end of lake Michigan, instead of the Niagara river.

Eight or ten miles from the present limits of lake Erie, there is a regular, well defined shore, once washed by the water; plainly indicating that the lake was once about twenty feet higher than it now is. If lake Michigan were ten feet higher than its present level, its waters would flow into the Illinois river. The Oplane, a branch of the Illinois, approaches within twelve miles of the lake; and the land between is low and level. When the water is high, boats now pass from the lake to the river. At a time of high water, a steamboat attempted to pass from the Illinois to the lake. After running a day from Ottawa up the river, the water began to subside, the captain became alarmed, lest his boat might run aground, and returned.

The valley of the Illinois river, plainly indicates that a much larger stream once run there. Had its channel been formed by its present quantity of water, it would have been not more than forty rods wide; but now, it carries a breadth of from fifty rods to more than a mile; it is, therefore, full of shoals and sand bars. The high banks all along down the stream, are about two miles apart; and the space between them not occupied by the river, is either a low marsh or a narrow lake.

When the lakes were high, aided probably by a strong west wind, the water broke through in the direction of Niagara river; and in process of time, wore a deep channel, drained the lakes to their present level, and dried up their outlet, at the south end of lake Michigan. This is my theory; and whoever will examine the country around the lakes, may not deem it so wild and extravagant a one, as has been advanced and believed by mankind.

Many of the inhabitants of Chicago are from the eastern part of the country—civil, enterprising and active. I found good society here—much better than I had expected in a place so new, and of such rapid growth.

House rent is high, and provisions are dear. Last spring, potatoes were sold for a dollar and a half a bushel; and this fall the current price is a dollar. All this is owing to the rapid increase of the place, and the immense travel through it. When more houses are built, and the country back of it becomes settled, living will, undoubtedly, be cheap. To the man of enterprise and business, it affords as good a location as any in the western country.

[CHAPTER V.]

At Chicago I found three young men from New-England, who were travelling to see the western country. We hired two horses and a wagon, at seventy-five cents a day, and started together into the interior of Illinois, west of Chicago.

It was past the middle of October; the air was mild and clear, and the earth dry. The prairie, which in the spring of the year is so wet and muddy as to be difficult to pass, we found dry, and a good smooth road over it; so we travelled merrily on. At the distance of twelve miles the ground became elevated a few feet, and we found a fine grove of timber, a few log houses, and the Oplane river. At this place the roads fork—one goes south, to Ottawa on the Illinois river—the other goes in a westerly direction, to Galena on the Mississippi. Stages run from Chicago, over each of these roads to both places, carrying the U.S. mail.

The roads in this country are in a state of nature. But the ground is so smooth, and so entirely free from stones, that when the earth is dry, you do not find better roads at the north. Indeed, you can travel in a carriage over most part of the country, woods and all.

We took the Galena road, forded the river, a stream about four rods wide, and passed on, over a beautiful, open, prairie country, here and there a log house, a small grove of timber, or small stream of water; the land high, dry and rich, and arrived at night at Naper's settlement, on the Du Page river, thirty-seven miles from Chicago. Naper was the first settler here. He keeps a public house, very decent accommodations; has a store and mills, and is forming a village around him. Here is a large grove of good timber.

We now left the Galena road and took a course more northerly to the big and little woods, on Fox river. In travelling twelve miles we came to the settlement at the lower end of "little woods." In the space of three miles, we found about twenty families, all in comfortable log houses; fields fenced and cultivated; a school house erecting, and a master hired to keep two months. And among the whole number only one family had been there two years; the remainder had none of them been there quite a year. The houses were built near the timber, and a beautiful rich prairie opened before them.

The man who had been here two years, had a hundred acres under fence; raised a large crop of corn and wheat, and had sold at Chicago, only thirty miles distant in a straight line, two hundred and twenty bushels of potatoes for as many dollars. He had built a weir across the river to catch fish, which I walked down to see. He took his boat, went out to the pen, and dipped out with a small net half a boat load of fish.

This is a land of plenty sure enough; and if a man cannot here find the luxuries of the city, he can obtain all the necessaries of life in abundance.

Fox river is a clear stream of water, about twenty rods wide, having a hard limestone bottom, from two to three feet deep, a brisk current, and generally fordable. On its banks, and on some other streams, we occasionally found ledges of limestone; but other than that, we found no rocks in the State.

We here forded the river, and travelled all day on its western bank. We found less timber on this side of the river. On the east side, it is generally lined with timber to the depth of a mile or more; but the west side is scarcely skirted with it. It is somewhat singular and unaccountable, but we found it universally to be the fact, that the east side of all the streams had much the largest portion of timber.

We passed a number of log houses, all of which had been built the present season, and came at last to the upper house on the river. The man told us, he had been here with his family only three days.—In attempting to get at the head of population, we more than once thought of the story of the Ohio pumpkin vine; and concluded if we accomplished it, we should be obliged to run our horses. He said, in the morning, his was the upper house on the river; but a man had made a location above him, and perhaps had already built him a house.

We went a few miles above this, forded the river, passed through the woods into the open prairie, and started down the east side. We travelled on, until it became dark. We were in an open prairie, without any road, a cloudy night, and had no means of directing our course. It was a great oversight, but we had no fire works with us, and the wolves began to howl around at a distance. We concluded, we should be obliged to stay out that night, and without any fire. A man accustomed to the new country, would probably have thought nothing of it; but to me, who had never lodged out doors in my life, to be obliged to camp out in a new country, and among the wolves, and such other wild animals as chose to come along, it was not quite so pleasant. I confess I began to have some misgivings in my own mind, whether this new world ought, in fact, to be called a paradise.

We knew that if there were any houses in that region, they would be near the woods; we accordingly obliqued to the right, and after some time travelling saw a light, which led us to a house.

These log houses generally have one large room, in which the family cook, eat and lodge; and if any strangers come, they lodge in the same room with the family, either in a bed or on the floor, as may be the most convenient. They are built of logs locked together at the corners; the interstices filled with timber split like rails, and plastered over with clay. The roofs are covered with shingles about four feet long; the chimneys are built on the outside, with wood, and lined with clay; and the floor is made of split timber. Many of them are quite neat and warm.

The next day, we passed a few miles down the river, crossed it, and travelled twenty or thirty miles west, towards Rock river. Our whole course lay through an open prairie. We could see timber on either hand. This day we found a number of gravel hills, the tops of which were coarse, naked gravel, and looked white at a distance. They were from ten to twenty feet high. We walked up to the top of the highest one, and had an extended view of the surrounding country. From this elevation, we could see the timber on the border of Rock river.

We obliqued more to the south, came to a grove of timber and a house. Here we stayed that night. The next day we took a southeasterly direction, passed one house, and came to Fox river, where the Galena road crosses it. We forded the river, and travelling over an open rolling prairie twenty miles in a southeasterly direction, came to Walker's grove, on the Du Page river, forty miles south of Chicago. Here we found a tavern, saw and grist mill, and something of a village, having two or three framed houses among the log huts.

The U.S. mail stage passes from Chicago through this place, Ottawa, Peoria and Springfield to St. Louis; and agreeably to our previous arrangement, I here left my companions, who returned to Chicago; and I took the stage for the south. I had travelled with them just long enough to be fully sensible of the great loss I sustained at parting. Thus it is with the traveller. He forms acquaintances and finds friends; but it is only to part with them, probably forever.

Before I go into the lower part of the State, I shall stop here, and say a few words of the appearance, present condition and future prospects of the northern part of Illinois. I feel in some degree qualified to do this, not only from my own observation, but from information obtained from intelligent and respectable sources.

[CHAPTER VI.]

The northern part of Illinois is beautifully diversified with groves of timber and rolling prairies. The timber consists of the various kinds of oak, rock and white maple, beach, locust, walnut, mulberry, plum, elm, bass wood, buckeye, hackberry, sycamore, spice wood, sassafras, haws, crab apple, cherry, cucumber, pawpaw, &c. There is some cedar, but little pine. The shores of Michigan have a large supply of pine timber, and from this source the lumber for buildings at Chicago is obtained.

The prairies are sometimes level, sometimes gently undulating, and sometimes hilly; but no where mountainous. The soil is three or four feet deep; then you come to a bed of clay two or three feet in depth, and then gravel. The soil is a rich, black loam; and when wet, it sticks to the feet like clay. Manure has no beneficial effect upon it; but where it has been cultivated, it produces an abundant crop, the first year, not quite as good as succeeding years; and it seems to be quite inexhaustible.

The prairies are covered with a luxuriant growth of native grass, which, when it gets its full growth is generally about as high as a man's shoulders.—They are destitute of trees, shrubs, or stones; and although the surface may be undulating, yet it is so smooth, that they can be mown as well as the smoothest old field in New-England. In the spring of the year, a great variety of beautiful flowers shoot up among the grass; so that the face of nature exhibits the appearance of an extended flower garden. The prairie grass is unlike any kind I have seen at the north; but it affords excellent fodder for horses, neat cattle and sheep. A finer grazing country I had never seen. The grass appears to have more nourishment in it, than at the north. I saw beef cattle, fatted on the prairie grass alone, and I challenge Brighton to produce fatter beef, or finer flavored.

Towards the lake, the land is gently undulating; farther west, on Fox and Rock rivers, it is rolling; and as you approach Galena on the Mississippi, it becomes more hilly and broken. All this country seems to lack, is timber and water. There are rivers enough, but not many small streams and springs. But both of these defects can in a good measure be remedied. Good water can be obtained almost any where by digging wells from twenty to thirty feet in depth; and fuel must be supplied by the coal, which is found generally in abundance throughout the State. Bricks can be used for building; and hedge rows for fences.

The coal is excellent for the grate. It burns free, and emits such a brilliant light, that any other in a room is hardly necessary. It is now used in many places, in preference to wood, although that is now plenty. Blacksmiths use it for the forge; and at one shop, the man told me he could dig and haul enough in half a day to last him a month.

The government of the United States granted to the State of Illinois a tract of land ten miles in width and eighty miles in length, extending from Chicago to Ottawa, for the purpose of making a canal to connect the waters of the lake with the Illinois river, and within these limits, it is supposed the canal will pass. This tract has been surveyed, put into market and much of it sold; but most of the land in the northern part of the State had not even been surveyed when I was there. Not a survey had been made on Fox river. The settlers took as much land as they pleased, and where they pleased; and as there was an abundance for all, none found fault. Before this time, I presume, the land has been surveyed; and the peace and quietness of the Fox river settlement, may have been a little disturbed by the carelessness of the United States' surveyors, in running lines somewhat diverging from the stakes and fences which its early settlers had set up as the bounds of their farms.

But a large portion of the northern half of the State, is not in the market, and perhaps may not be for two years to come. This very land, however, is settling every day. All a man has to do, is to select his land and settle down upon it. By this act he gains a pre-emption right to one hundred and sixty acres; and before the auction sale, enters his land at the land office, pays a dollar and a quarter an acre, and receives his title. When land has once been through the auction and not sold, it can be taken at any time, by paying a dollar and a quarter an acre, and receive a title.

Upon the whole, I think the upper part of Illinois offers the greatest inducements to the emigrant, especially from the northern States. It is a high, healthy, beautiful country; and there are now plenty of good locations to be made. A young man, with nothing but his hands to work, may in a few years obtain a competency. The whole country produces great crops of wheat, corn and potatoes, and all the fruits and vegetables of the north. Apple and peach trees grow faster and more vigorous here than at the east; and there is a native plum tree, which bears excellent fruit.

I took much pains to ascertain whether it was subject to the fever and ague; and from the inquiries I made, and the healthy appearance of the people, I am persuaded it is not. I found only one person sick with that disease, in all the upper country, and she was an old woman from Indiana; and she told me she had it before she left that State.—There is plenty of game—the prairie hen, about the size of the northern hen, deer, ducks, wild turkies, and squirrels; also an abundance of wild honey.

There is another reason why the northern part of the State is preferable. Chicago of itself is, and will be, something of a market for produce; but it is the best spot in the whole State, to carry produce to be transported to a northern market. From this, it is carried all the way by water to New-York city; and the distance is no greater than from the middle and lower parts of the State to New-Orleans, and the expense of transportation the same.

But after all, there is no such place as a perfect elysium on earth; and to this bright picture of the new world, there must be added some slight shades. In the first place there are many prairie wolves all over the country, so that it is almost impossible to keep sheep. In travelling over the country, I have started half a dozen in a day; they did not appear to be very wild; but they seldom or never attack a man, unless retreat is cut off, or sorely pressed by hunger. They are of a brown color, and of the size of a large dog. The men have a good deal of sport in running them down, and killing them.—They take a stick, mount a fleet horse, soon come up with them, and knock them on the head.

A man on Fox river told me he made a wolf pen over a cow that got accidentally killed, and caught twelve wolves in one week! As the country becomes settled they will disappear. There are but few bears; the country is too open for them. I had one or two meals of bear meat, but it is not at all to my taste. Then, there are the prairie rattlesnakes, about a foot long. Their bite is not considered very dangerous. There is a weed, growing universally on the prairie, that is a certain cure for it. They are not, however, plenty. Men told me, that they had passed a whole year without seeing one.

Then, to prey upon the fields of the husbandman, there are the blackbirds and squirrels. They are the same in kind with those of the north, and their rapacity seems to have lost nothing, by living at the west. The blackbird is not a bird of the forest; it only follows close upon the heels of population.

The winters are as cold, perhaps, as at the north, but of shorter duration. They commence later and end earlier. The Indians make their poneys get their living in the winter; and cattle will live if they can have a range in the woods; but the farmer can have as much hay as he chooses, only for the cutting; the good husbandman will, therefore, have enough to keep his cattle in good heart during the winter.

Men are apt to judge of a new country by the impulse of feeling. The enthusiastic admirer of nature, when he beholds the extended prairies, lofty groves and pellucid streams, represents it as a perfect paradise. But those who think more of good roads, good coaches, good houses and good eating, than they do of the beauties of nature, curse the whole country and quit it in disgust. But to prevent all mistakes, be it known to all whom it may concern, that in this new country, fields do not grow ready fenced and planted, and elegant houses beside them; pancakes are not found on trees, or roasted pigs, running about squealing to be eaten.

The jaundiced eye sees nothing in its true light.

——"The diff'rence is as great between
The optics seeing, as the object seen;
Or fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies,
Contracts, inverts, and gives a thousand dyes."

Many anecdotes were told me, of the different views the same individual would have of the same place, under different circumstances. An emigrant from Vermont, with his wife, children and goods, started for the western world in a wagon. The country was new, and the roads so bad that their progress was slow and fatiguing. At length, after enduring many privations and hardships in a journey of twelve hundred miles, they safely arrived in Illinois, and located themselves on a fine, rich spot of ground, in the interior. He hastily threw up a temporary hut for their present accommodation; but they were all too much wearied and worn, vigorously to exert themselves. He became sad himself; his wife, unable to restrain her feelings, began to sob aloud, and the children joined the concert. They could not divert their thoughts from the home, neighbors and friends they had left. The prairie and wild wood had no charms for them. After three or four days of despondency, they picked up their goods, loaded their wagon, and trudged all the way back again to Vermont. Vermont had, however, lost some of its charms. It did not appear quite so fine as they had expected. After spending another cold winter there, they began to think Illinois, upon the whole, was the better place; and that they had been very foolish in leaving it. So, they picked up their duds again, returned to the same spot they had left, and were satisfied, contented and happy. The man has now an excellent farm, good house, and an abundance of the necessaries and conveniences of life. In short, he is an independent farmer, and would not now, upon any consideration, return to Vermont.

An instance, in some respects similar to this, occurred some years ago, in an emigrant from the western part of the State of New-Hampshire.—He sold his farm, and started for Ohio. His wife and children, and a portion of his furniture, he put into a large wagon, drawn by three or four yoke of oxen; and three cows of a peculiar breed, he also took with him. They proceeded on about five hundred miles, probably as far as Buffalo, when they all became weary, and so excessively fatigued with their journey, that they lost all relish for the western country, and wished themselves back again. At this time, they held a council, and agreed, without a dissenting voice, to return to New-Hampshire. They accordingly wheeled about, cows and all, and trudged back to the town they had left; having performed a journey of a thousand miles with an ox-team, at great expense, and apparently to no beneficial purpose whatever. He did not, however, like the Vermonter, again return.

But the result of the trip was not so disastrous as had been anticipated. At the very time of their return, a much better farm than the one he had left was offered for sale for ready money. He bought it at a reduced price, and immediately settled upon it. He then made a calculation upon his present and former condition; and after taking into consideration the expenses of his journey, the sale of one farm and purchase of another, he found himself worth at least a thousand dollars more than he was previous to the transaction!

And here, I would give a caution to the emigrant who intends to settle in the western country, not to place implicit confidence in what the inhabitants of one section may say of other portions of it. If they mean to be honest in giving an opinion, self-interest as in other places, strangely warps their judgment. Land holders and actual settlers are anxious to build up their own village and neighborhood; and therefore, they praise their own section and decry the others. At Detroit, we are told that Monroe is a very sickly place; at Monroe, Detroit is unhealthy; and both will concur that Chicago is too unhealthy for an emigrant to think of enjoying life in it. In Michigan, that is the most healthy, pleasant and best portion of the West; in Illinois, that becomes the promised land. Indeed, so contradictory are their statements, that little reliance ought to be placed upon them; and the better way for the emigrant is, if he cannot obtain the necessary information from disinterested travellers, to go and examine for himself. Eastern people, who travel no farther than Michigan, generally form an unfavorable opinion of Chicago and Illinois; but were they to travel over that State, they would soon change their opinion.

[CHAPTER VII.]

But I have dwelt long enough on the upper country. I took the stage and travelled twenty-five miles over an open prairie, passing only one house, and arrived at night at Holderman's grove. This is a pleasant grove of excellent timber, having by its side a number of good houses and large cultivated fields.

The next morning, we rode fifteen miles to Ottawa, where we breakfasted. Here the Illinois and Fox rivers join, and appear to be nearly of equal size, both about twenty rods wide. The village is on the east side of the Illinois river, which we crossed in a ferry boat. A tavern, some houses and stores are built on a small flat under the hill, and a number of houses on a bluff, two hundred feet above the river. Steamboats come up as high as this place, unless the water be quite low. If it be not a sickly place, I am much mistaken. The fever and ague seems to be the prevailing disease. I have observed that situations on the western rivers are generally unhealthy.

The river diverges to the west, and the road down the country immediately leaves it. In travelling twenty-five miles, I found myself fourteen from the river. Here, I left the stage, and went to Hennipen, a small village on the Illinois river. It is regularly laid out on a high, level prairie, which extends three miles back, and consists of two taverns, four stores, a dozen dwelling houses and a court house—it being the seat of justice for Putnam county. I found a number of people sick in this place with the fever and ague.

Here I crossed the river, about fifty rods wide, in a ferry boat, and found on the other side about two miles of heavy timbered bottom land, subject to overflow. From this, I ascended a high bluff, passed three or four miles of oak openings, and then came into the open prairie.

Ten miles from the river, a new town, called Princeton, is laid out in the prairie, on the stage road leading from Peoria to Galena. Three buildings, one of which is a store where the post office is kept, had been erected when I was there; but as it is in a healthy situation, and surrounded by a beautiful rich country, it may in time become a large village.

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.

[1] This school has recently been removed to Alton.

[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.