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Early Western Travels

1748–1846

Volume VIII

Early Western Travels
1748–1846
A Series of Annotated Reprints of some of the best and rarest contemporary volumes of travel, descriptive of the Aborigines and Social and Economic Conditions in the Middle and Far West, during the Period of Early American Settlement

Edited with Notes, Introductions, Index, etc., by

Reuben Gold Thwaites, LL.D.

Editor of “The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents,” “Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition,” “Hennepin’s New Discovery,” etc.

Volume VIII

Buttrick’s Voyages, 1812–1819

Evans’s Pedestrious Tour, 1818

Cleveland, Ohio

The Arthur H. Clark Company

1904

Copyright 1904, by

THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Lakeside Press

R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY

CHICAGO

CONTENTS OF VOLUME VIII

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME VIII

PREFACE TO VOLUME VIII

The journals of the two American travellers whose works have been selected for volume viii of our series, form an interesting contrast and complement to one another. Tilly Buttrick, Jr., was by nature a wanderer. The early pages of his quaint little book give the principal facts of his biography, particularly his adventures at sea. It is the narrative of one to whom strange lands and distant vistas irresistibly appeal. He tells his story with a straightforward simplicity that transports the reader through the scenes that the author has beheld. The wandering disposition that had first carried him far abroad, induced Buttrick to spend several years roaming through the Great West, and the same quality of picturesque clarity of narration makes his journal useful to students of that section.

Reverting from the Far West of the trans-Mississippi and Oregon country—whither the journals of the Astorians have led us in the three preceding volumes of our series—we find the Middle West of the Michauxs, Harris, and Cuming passing into a new stage of progress. The tide of emigration flowing from the older states down the Ohio River, and spreading out into Ohio and Kentucky on either hand, was checked by the second war with England, and the ruthless inroads of the savages whom the British encouraged. In this war the new West bore its full share; having successfully defended its long frontier, it emerged triumphant in spirit, but financially and industrially exhausted. Not until the second great wave of immigration began (1815–18), at the close of this struggle, was the region again blessed with prosperity, and able to renew its checked development.

Into this changing West the wanderer Buttrick came. Arrived at Buffalo before the declaration of war, he was upon the Canadian side of the Niagara frontier when the fateful news arrived, and for a brief time was detained as a hostage by the British General Brock. When released, he returned to Massachusetts; but two years later started for Kentucky—passing west through New-York State, and floating down the Allegheny and Ohio to Cincinnati. On this journey he gives us an interesting picture of river life, and its exigencies; while with graphic pen he portrays the bad roads, fever and ague, and deserted condition of the country through which he returned to his Eastern home.

In 1815 began his longest journey through the West. He encountered at Olean, on the Allegheny, a large body of Eastern emigrants who were awaiting the opening of navigation and the rise of the Western rivers. Swept rapidly down on the freshet, Buttrick landed in Kentucky; but having been attacked by his old enemy, fever and ague, he embarked for New-Orleans, thus enabling him to draw for us a brief but vivid picture of Mississippi navigation. From the Southern metropolis Buttrick started on foot for the North, over the route known as the Natchez trail—a wild and lonely journey of a thousand miles, through the land of semi-hostile Indians and backwoodsmen nearly as savage. Upon this hazardous journey he was “generally alone, always sick, often hungry, sometimes nearly starved,” and beset by drunken Indians; but he struggled on, arriving in Cincinnati after forty-seven days en route.

While the chief interest of Buttrick’s journal lies in his own adventures, yet these are in a way typical of Western conditions, and throw much light on the hardships of pioneers, and the devastations of the War of 1812–15. The book we here reprint is very rare. Published as an eleemosynary appeal to readers on behalf of its unfortunate author, who had become blind through his hardships, a small edition was put forth, and no copies are now known to be upon the market. Its reprint will, therefore, be a welcome addition to the journals of Western travellers.

Estwick Evans, whose Pedestrious Tour of Four Thousand Miles, through the Western States and Territories, comprises the second part of this volume, was, in his way, a philosopher—a man imbued with early nineteenth century views of the return to nature and the charm of savage life. Slipping the leash of the restraints of civilization, and influenced by a strange mixture of Quixotism and stoicism, our author set forth from his New-Hampshire home in the dead of an extreme winter, and crossed the frozen, almost trackless waste to the frontier post of Detroit. His copyright notice contains the following epitome of the journey: “The blast of the north is on the plain: the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.”

Evans was born (1787) of good New-England ancestry, at Portsmouth, New-Hampshire. Largely self-educated, he was admitted to the bar in 1811, and won popularity by espousing the cause of the oppressed, taking up cases for sailors, people in poor circumstances—those fleeced by self-seeking lawyers. A prominent colleague said of him: “Evans had about as much influence as any one, because he was a clever fellow, honest, poor, and not well treated, and the people sympathized with him.” He volunteered for the War of 1812–15, but was rejected on account of a physical disability. After his adventurous Western journey, he married and settled in New-Hampshire, at one time (1822–24) serving in the state legislature. His vein of Quixotism never left him; he desired to fight for South American independence, and actually left for Greece in order to join her armies, but arrived after the battle of Navarino and saw no bloodshed. In 1829 he removed to Washington, and throughout the remainder of his life practiced law, and served in the government offices, frequently contributing to the National Intelligencer. He died in New-York, November 20, 1866.[^[1]]

Despite the eccentricity of Evans’s purpose, and the grotesque dress of buffalo skins in which he attired himself for his Western journey; despite, also, his constant tendency to moralize and involve himself and the reader in a maze of speculation, his comments upon the men and conditions which he saw in the course of his long tour are shrewd, eminently sane, and practical. The Western New-York of 1818 is vividly portrayed; the solitude of Northern Ohio, and the difficulties of the Sandusky swamps are made known; glimpses of the Indians of the vicinity are afforded. However, the chief value of the narrative commences when the author reaches Detroit. From that place through the remainder of the journey, to Presqu’ Isle, and down the Allegheny, Ohio, and Mississippi to New-Orleans, Evans was keenly alert for all manner of information that bore upon the war, the state of agriculture, the topography and settlement of the country, and the general industrial conditions. Much of his material was obtained from first-hand participants and explorers, and bears the stamp of accuracy. He gives us one of the best pictures we possess of early Michigan Territory, the French habitants contrasted with American settlers, the influence of the fur trade, and the scattered posts in this far-away region. His description, also, of early Indiana and Illinois presents interesting phases. At New-Orleans he encountered the remnants of French civilization, whose picturesque mingling with American backwoods life presented startling contrasts. “Here may be seen in the same crowd Creoles, Quadroons, mulattoes, Samboes, Mustizos, Indians, and Negroes; and there are other combinations not yet classified.” Evans viewed the dissipations, pleasures, and excitements of the Southern metropolis with the eye of a New-England Puritan, broadened, however, by his contact with French philosophy and liberalism. “The wonderful wealth and physical force of the United States” makes a strong impression on his mind; and looking forward with the eye of a prophet, he foresees the development which a hundred years will bring, and the power that will make all Europe tremble.

From New-Orleans, Evans returned to New-Hampshire by sea, having had, perchance, his fill of travels in the wilderness, and having found “amidst the solitude and grandeur of the Western wilds more correct views of human nature and of the true interests of man.” His book is both diverting and informing, and fills its place in the chronicles of the early West.

Louise Phelps Kellogg, Ph.D., Edith Kathryn Lyle, Ph.D., and Mr. Archer Butler Hulbert have assisted the Editor in the annotation of this volume.

R. G. T.

Madison, Wis., September, 1904.

Buttrick’s Voyages, Travels, and Discoveries 1812–1819

Reprint of the original edition: Boston, 1831

PREFATORY REMARKS

In preparing this little work for the press, the Editor had not only in view the interest with which an enlightened people seize upon facts not previously in their possession; but sympathy for this unfortunate traveller, who by misfortune has now not only become bereft of his property, but, by providential circumstances, of his sight, contributed to induce him to copy it for the press. And he confidentially trusts, if the information contained in the following work is not sufficient to induce every individual to become a purchaser, that sympathy for the past and present sufferings of a fellow creature will forbid them to withhold the small sum solicited for the pamphlet.

TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES

I was born in Westford, County of Middlesex, and Commonwealth of Massachusetts, on the sixth day of July, 1783. I lived with my father, Tilly Buttrick, until I was ten years old; when he removed to Princeton, in the County of Worcester, where was the summer seat and residence of his Honor Lieutenant Governor Moses Gill. I was put to Mr. Gill, where I lived in his service five years, after which I went and lived with my father, who now lived in Groton, near where I was born, two years. At the expiration of that time, being in my seventeenth year, I was placed by my father in a mercantile house, in Boston. My master, D. Hastings Esq., was a respectable merchant, and one of the best of men. With him I resided until I was twenty-one years of age. Being desirous of seeing more of the world than my present situation allowed, I resolved to go to sea. Accordingly I shipped on board the fine ship Alnomak, of Boston, bound for the Isle of France. Our crew consisted of seventeen in number, mounting eight guns. On the tenth of September, 1804, we weighed anchor, and left the harbor of Boston, with a fair wind, which continued until the twelfth, in the afternoon; at which time we were clear of the land; the wind then gradually decreased, until we were becalmed, which was about six o’clock the same evening. We remained in this situation about one hour, and night coming on, it was noticed that the sea was greatly agitated; which is very uncommon in a calm.

[6] The night was extremely dark, and the surfs that broke about us appeared like huge banks of snow. At this time many observations were made by the crew, the oldest sailors observing that we should soon find out the meaning of this phenomenon. The wind soon began to breeze up ahead, all hands were called to put the vessel under close sail, and before nine o’clock it blew a tremendous gale; which obliged us to lay to, as she was heavily laden. The wind continued to blow for thirty six hours, and the ship labored with great difficulty. The storm then began to abate, and coming about fair, we laid our course and proceeded on our voyage. On our way we often fell in with large schools of fish of different kinds, such as Porpoise, Dolphin, Boneator, &c., and were very successful in taking them, which supplied us with something fresh to eat. We passed in sight of the island of Teneriffe and many other islands, and the coast of Barbary. In crossing the equator, we were several days becalmed. On the twenty-second of December, we arrived at the cape of Good Hope, a Dutch settlement in the southern extremity of Africa, and came to anchor in Table Bay. We found the people here very industrious, working their cattle, which are of the Buffaloe kind, by means of a square piece of wood lashed to their horns, across the front of their heads. Often six or eight yoke of oxen were thus harnessed in one team. They were very handsome cattle, excepting the hump on their shoulders, so much resembling the Buffaloe. The meat of these cattle is plenty, but not equally good with our American oxen, being tough, of a yellowish cast, and rather unsavory. Sheep are common here, and to appearance much larger than the sheep in our own country. This may be owing partly to their having longer legs than our sheep, and consequently taller. Their meat is excellent, and perhaps equals in flavor any found in North America, or any other nation. But their wool is of little value, being as coarse as dogs’ hair. The tails of these creatures are sold separate from their bodies, and have the appearance of a large lump of tallow weighing from fourteen to twenty pounds.

In the suburbs of the town, I observed two of the feathered tribe, which I afterward learned were ostriches; [7] who, upon discovering me, raised their heads much higher than my own, and appeared no less frightened than myself, and were no less willing to make good their retreat.

The 25th, being Christmas, our sailors undertook to imitate the landsmen in cheerfulness and hilarity; the night was spent in high glee. Next morning all hands were called, but not coming on deck so soon as was expected, the mates came forward with handspikes to hurry them. They were met by the sailors with the same kind of weapons; and although nothing very serious took place, yet it caused considerable difficulty between the officers and crew. The captain being on shore was soon notified, when a guard of soldiers were sent on board; one man was taken and committed to prison on shore, where he remained a few days, and was then put on board and sent to America. No punishment was inflicted upon the remainder, but they were strictly watched.

Here we remained until the first day of January, 1805, when not being able to dispose of our cargo as we expected, we weighed anchor and put to sea. But soon a twenty-four pound ball, fired from the guard ship lying one hundred yards distant, besprinkling me with water, as I stood on the bowsprit, occasioned us to drop anchor and send our pass on board the guard ship, which our captain omitted to do, though required by the law of the place. This being done, we immediately weighed anchor and stood out to sea.

The next morning we had lost sight of land, and in the course of the day, the wind blew a terrible gale; the sea ran mountains high, the ship was hove to, and we rode out the storm, which continued about twelve hours. After which we continued our course with the trade winds about forty days. In the mean time our supercargo fell sick and in about six weeks died. The usual ceremonies at sea were performed, and his remains committed to a watery grave. Thinking ourselves far enough to windward of the Island, to bear away, we accordingly did so, and running twenty-four hours we discovered land. Supposing it to be our intended port, we were greatly rejoiced. But when coming within four miles of land, to our great mortification we found it to be the island of [8] Madagascar, four hundred and eighty miles to the leeward of the isle of France. This was a sorrowful tale for us to hear, as we must have a head wind and oftentimes a current in our return. We had become short of water, and for several days had been on allowance.

The grass on the sides of the ship had become one foot in length, which greatly impeded our progress and rendered our situation truly distressing. The ship was put about and stood to the south, as near as we could lay to the wind.

The island of Madagascar, is inhabited by negroes, with whom little or no trade is carried on by the whites. We dared not venture ourselves on shore here, to obtain water, for two reasons. First, we were afraid of the rocks and shoals, as there were no pilots to be had; and secondly, should we arrive safe on shore, we might be massacred by those uncivilized people.

While ruminating on these unfortunate circumstances, our ship was struck by a white squall, very common in that eastern world, which carried away our foretop mast and maintop gallant mast and did much damage to the sails and rigging. This was probably fortunate for us, as the masts must have gone, or the ship upset. The squall being over, it soon began to rain very heavily. Stopping the scuppers, all who were able employed themselves in dipping water from the deck. We filled six casks of a hundred gallons each, which proved a very seasonable and ample supply. Every exertion was now made, both by the officers and crew, and continued until the 20th of March, when we considered ourselves far enough to windward to bear away, and next morning discovered land, and found it to be our long wished for island; the isle of France. The harbor being on the leeward side, we ran around, and not finding it so soon as we expected, we saw several sail boats lying about, near the shore, and hoped to find a pilot among them. But none appearing we fired a gun as a signal. Unfortunately the gun was loaded with a ball, which went close to several of them. This frightened the poor Frenchmen, and they made for the shore with all possible speed, supposing us to be Englishmen.

[9] Within thirty minutes we discovered a large sail bearing towards us from the harbor. On its approaching us to our surprise we found it to be a French man of war, ready for action; and coming close too, and hailing us, they ordered our captain on board of the ship, and took us under their protection, and stood for the harbor. We were not insensible of the reason of this, from the circumstance of the above mentioned shot, which was fired from the entrance of this harbor. The head of the harbor, on which the town stands, is about three miles from the entrance. The channel being narrow, the only way of getting up is by warping, to assist in which buoys are set at a suitable distance; a rope is made fast, the ship is hauled to one and then to another, and so on through the whole.

A gang of negroes were placed on board the vessel, and assisted in performing this labor, until we arrived safe on our mooring ground. Our captain was then conducted on shore, by a guard, and after due examination, was found innocent of any ill design. We found this harbor a very pleasant and delightful one; and from seventy to eighty American vessels lying there. In a few days we commenced discharging our cargo and sending it on shore; we also stripped the ship to the lower mast; this being done, we were about to repair the rigging and sails, when the monsoons made their appearance.

These monsoons, so called, are the changing of the wind, which blows in one direction from March to September; then, shifting and whiffling about, blowing high gales, and sometimes a hurricane, commences a contrary direction, and so continues the remainder of the year, it being the time when the sun crosses the equator. Vessels generally, are afraid of being found at sea in this country, at this season. The wind at this time was very variable, blowing from different points and constituting a terrible gale, which lasted about forty-eight hours. Every precaution was taken for the safety of the vessels lying in the harbor; by mooring them by two anchors ahead, and two astern, according to the requirements of the law; nevertheless, the shipping in the harbor, consisting of one hundred and fifty sail, French, Dutch, Danes, etc., but mostly Americans, presented a most unpleasant [10] spectacle. Fifteen or twenty vessels of different sizes, were driven on shore, and some of them, when the water fell, were nearly high and dry. But few lives were lost; although there was a great destruction of property. The inhabitants of this island are very friendly to the American people, and an immense trade is carried on between the two countries. About fifty yards from the shore, stood a spacious building, occupied as a hospital, in which was a great number of patients. Directly on the bank is a small building, which is called a death house. When any one died in the hospital, they were removed and deposited in this small house, when they were placed in a coffin or box, large enough to contain two. If another was expected to die immediately, it remained until the second was placed in it; then being put into a boat manned by three negroes, expressly for that purpose, it was rowed down about two miles and a half, being that distance from any dwelling house, when the bodies were taken out of the coffin, hauled up on shore, and thrown into a lime pit, seemingly formed by nature. The boat then returns with the coffin, and here ends the funeral ceremonies. The dissolvent power of this earth, assisted by the rays of the sun, soon decomposes and destroys these bodies, and the remote distance from any dwelling houses, prevents any evil consequences, which might otherwise follow such a mode of burial. This boat is well known by the black flag, which it carries hoisted, and often passes three or four times in twenty-four hours.

The labor in this place is done by slaves, who are kept under close subjection. They are separated into gangs, over each of which is placed an overseer or driver. During the labor of the day, should any of them commit an offence, even of the smallest nature, it is marked down by this driver, and communicated to the principal overseer at evening. Early next morning, when called out to their usual labor, they are punished according to the aggravation of the offence. If small, they are punished with a rattan, on their naked backs. If guilty of an aggravated offence, they are lashed to a post, and so horribly whipped and mangled as at times to leave the bones denuded of their flesh, and in open view.

[11] HORRID EXECUTION

Several times hearing the noise of cannon, and seeing a red flag hoisted, on inquiry I found that one or more negroes were to be executed. One day as this occurred, I went on shore and finding a number of people passing to a plain, back of the town, I followed on, and arriving at the place of execution, saw a rope drawn round a circle of about three hundred feet; inside of which stood a platform about ten feet square, standing on posts five feet from the ground. On the top of this platform lay a common plank, one end of which was raised about two feet, and extended even with the end of the platform. Here I waited for the space of half an hour, when, hearing the sound of music, and looking around, I saw a company of soldiers advancing. In the rear of them was a cart, with two young negroes in it, and a Roman Catholic priest following after. They coming within the circle, the company formed, and the negroes were taken from the cart and conducted to the scaffold. The priest followed and conversed with them a short time, when a negro man mounted the scaffold, with a broad axe in one hand and a rope in the other. Looking very fierce, he ordered one to lay down on the plank, with his chin extended over the end. After lashing him tight to the plank with his rope, he raised his axe and with one stroke, severed his head from his body. Then unfastening the body he threw it down where the head had fallen.

The other poor fellow, terrified and trembling at this awful sight, and scarcely able to stand, was soon ordered to lie down in the same manner of the former, which he very reluctantly did, the plank being already covered with the blood of his fellow victim. The rope was then thrown around him, as before mentioned; the axe was again raised by this infernal butcher, with an apparent gratification and hardihood, shocking to human nature, and seeming to glut his revenge for the reluctance with which the criminal laid himself down on the plank. After several blows he at last succeeded in severing his head from his body.

To paint this horrible scene in its true colors, the wild despair of the criminals, before their execution, and agony [12] afterwards, indicated by the thousand changing motions of the face, and the shooting out of the tongue, is beyond the power of language to describe; their only crime was taking four dollars from a slave, sent by his master to some other person.

In about three weeks after our arrival in this place, there appeared off this island, five English men of war, which had left here about six weeks before, for fear of the former gale. This squadron was for the purpose of blockading the island, and remained during our stay at this place. They were very diligent on their stations, but effected but little; they would often appear close in to the mouth of the harbor, but I never knew them fall in with an enemy. The war still existed between France and Great-Britain, and several vessels and privateers were fitted out of this port, and would often send in valuable prizes; large ships laden with India and China goods, would be sent in unmolested, which was surprising to all who saw it. At one time an English sloop of war appeared in the mouth of the harbor; spying a twenty-four pound gun about three fourths of a mile on shore, manned by five soldiers, they tried their skill by firing an eighteen pound shot at them, which hit the carriage, upset the gun and killed two of the men. The other three men fearing a second compliment, took to flight and made all possible speed for the town, where they arrived in great confusion. We now began to think it time for a cargo to come on board the Almonak. But soon found it to consist only of stone to ballast the ship. Being soon in readiness, on the first of August we put to sea, leaving this port for the island of Sumatra.

On our passage we were several times boarded by English men of war ships, and after a strict examination were permitted to pass. We passed close to the island of Ceylon, an English island, and saw colors hoisted, but made no stop. On the first of September, we arrived on the western coast of Sumatra. As there were no regular maps or charts of this coast, we could only traverse it by information derived from masters of vessels, which had traded there, and our own judgment. There are many reefs and rocks, which extend into the sea a considerable distance. Many of which lay but just below the surface [13] of the water. It was therefore found necessary to keep a good look out, one man at mast head and others closely watching below. We at last discovered a small bay, and run into it; the place was called Moco. This is one of the trading places. There are several others, such as Soosoo, Mecca, Bencooban, and Pecung. At the latter place, there was formerly a company of Dutch, who settled there for the purpose of trading with the natives. But in consequence of the English cruisers on the one side, and fear of the natives on the other, they had evacuated the place and returned to Batavia, from whence they came hither. We came to anchor in our first mentioned port, and prepared against any attack which might be made by these savages, by tricing up a boarding-netting round the ship, about fifteen feet above the deck. This netting was made of line, about the size of a cod line, and wove together like a seine for taking fish; our guns were loaded and primed, with matches burning by the side, boarding pikes, muskets and cutlasses at hand, and a centinel walking the deck. A gun was fired at sunrise and the colors hoisted; another at sunset when the colors were taken down. We had not been long at this place, before we were visited by several boats from the shore. They were ordered to haul close alongside of the ship; a gun was pointed into their boats, and a man to each gun with a lighted match in his hand. Should they attempt to rise we were in readiness to receive them, and soon put a stop to their proceedings.

They then asked permission to come on board; this was granted to three or four of them. A gun was then hauled back, and they allowed to crawl in at the port hole, while the rest remained as they were. Some of them spoke good English, and began to inquire if we wanted pepper. We answered, yes. The captain agreed with them about the price, and in a few days we were furnished with about fifteen tons. The natives brought the pepper in their own boats, and it was weighed on board of the ship, with our weights and scales, which we brought for that purpose. They were very particular in examining them, and fearful of being defrauded.

One man, whom we supposed was their clerk, took the weight of each draft, and at the close footed it up, and [14] cast the amount in dollars, as quick and as well as though he had been a regular bred merchant. They write fast, but from right to left. While here the captain was invited on shore, and went in a boat with four men; each armed with a cutlass. Three were left to guard the boat. Taking me with him we proceeded towards the village, which is about half a mile from shore, escorted by some of the chiefs through a narrow path, and thick wood of Bamboo and Cocoa nut. On our way, we could often see the heads of the inhabitants peeping from behind the trees, or through the bushes, but would often start and run when we approached them. On coming to the village we found a cluster of small houses, situated but a little distance from each other, standing on six or eight posts, and about three feet from the ground, being built similar to log houses in America. The tops of these houses were covered with bark and leaves, and were sufficiently tight to prevent the water from penetrating through them. I learned that there were about four hundred inhabitants in this village.

There were many men and boys to be seen about among these huts; but not one female. They show few marks of industry, a few only being employed in making sails for boats, from a kind of bark, which they work together very ingeniously. I saw no implement of husbandry, nor any household furniture, excepting a few kettles, standing about the doors of their log huts. These people are of a copper color, small in size, seldom weighing more than one hundred pounds; their food consists principally of fruit, rice and fish. They are indolent, but subtle and full of intrigue; they speak a Malay dialect, and are by persuasion Mahometans. They consider it their duty to take the life of a Christian; they are very avaricious, and seek every opportunity of obtaining money; Spanish dollars is the only coin they will receive, and which they obtain in large sums for their pepper, which grows in great abundance on this island. It is difficult to know what they do with their silver, as their expenditures must be small, their clothing generally consisting of a small cloth round their waist, extending down to their knees. Some of the higher order wear a mantle over their shoulders extending nearly [15] to their feet, with a small piece of cloth neatly worked, covering the top part of the head; a belt around their waist with a long knife or creese in it, the blade of which is very ordinary, but sharp; the handle is generally made of silver, but sometimes of gold and worked in a curious manner; these except the handles are purchased of foreigners. Opium, although prohibited, is obtained and used to excess by the natives in this island. They chew and smoke it frequently to intoxication, and substitute it for ardent spirit, which they make no use of. Instead of tobacco they have a kind of reddish weed, which they mix up with something resembling white paint, stirring it with their thumb and finger, and crowding it into their mouths in the most disgusting manner. They have no fire arms, not knowing the use of powder; but are very expert with their knives. When meeting each other, instead of shaking hands in the American way, they salute each other by striking their knives together. They are in separate tribes; each is governed by a rajah or king, whose commands are implicitly obeyed. At the sale or purchase of any goods, he must first be consulted, and permission granted, and a certain part of all monies received are paid to him. Polygamy is allowed; the number of wives a man has, depends on his ability to maintain them. They are considered as personal property, and are bought and sold at pleasure.[^[2]]

After purchasing all the pepper that could be procured in this place, we weighed anchor and stood along the coast, about thirty miles. When about one mile off land, we espied a number of natives on shore, and let go anchor. They coming out in boats, we treated them in the same manner as we had done those before mentioned. The reason of our using so much precaution, was, information that several vessels had been taken by the natives and their crews massacred. Finding no pepper at this place, and being told that by going about twenty-five miles further up we could procure a plentiful supply, we weighed anchor and proceeded, to the place pointed out by the natives. When we arrived we found that information [16] had been given, and preparations made for procuring all the pepper that could be obtained. Loaded boats came out, which we received for several days; the pepper was weighed off and paid for to the owners and all things appeared to go on well. This looked encouraging, and we expected soon to have a full cargo, they repeatedly saying we should have greater quantities by waiting a short time longer. We knew not their object at the time, but afterwards had reason to suspect their intentions. However, after waiting several days and receiving no more supplies, we passed up thirty or forty miles further. Here it appearing like a favorable place, we dropped anchor about five o’clock in the evening, two miles from the shore. It was calm, and the evening was pleasant. About eleven o’clock at night, we heard the oars of several boats coming. By the light of the moon we soon discovered them to be three in number, one with about twenty-five men and the others with about fifteen men each. I being on deck, notified the captain below, who immediately came up and hailed them; they answered and asked if we wanted pepper; our answer was yes. Coming along side, they were placed as before mentioned. All appeared very desirous of coming on board, but only three were permitted. As they came in at the port hole, we took from each his creese or knife. This appeared not to please them. At this time they were uncommonly merry, looking earnestly about on every thing on deck, which could be plainly discerned from the light of the moon. The captain says to them, how much pepper have you? they answered, we have none here but will bring you some bye and bye.

One of them walking down into the cabin, the captain ordered me to follow him. The second mate lay in his berth asleep; he looked at him very earnestly and laughed; there were two lamps burning on the table, he took one and blew it out, then looking at the mate again he laughed; lit the lamp, sat it down. He soon blew it out the second time; mistrusting his objects, I seized him by the shoulder and soon had him on deck, and notified the captain, when all hands were immediately called. The natives in the boat appeared very uneasy, some standing upright, others were puking over the side; this [17] was enough to tell us that they were intoxicated from the too free use of opium. As they had no pepper, and coming in such a number, their intention undoubtedly was to take the ship, and after massacreing the crew to plunder her. But seeing us so well guarded, they thought it not best to make an attack, although they were three times our number.

The captain then ordered these three to go immediately into their boats, with orders to steer straight from the ship’s side and not to vary either to the right or left, for should they disobey, they would receive the contents of our guns among their boats. They obeyed, although with great reluctance, which to us was a certain proof of their ill intentions.

Although these men are small in stature, and possess but little muscular strength, yet when intoxicated they are savage, cruel and fearless as mad dogs. The next morning we stood along the shore for several miles, and were met by some Indian canoes. We then came to anchor, went on shore and purchased a large quantity of pepper, which was brought on board, weighed and paid for. We remained here several days, during which time some of our crew saw and recognized some of the same persons who made us the evening visit which I have already mentioned. They discovered no hostile intentions at this time. We continued along the coast, stopping at different places, until we had about completed our cargo, without any damage except the loss of two anchors, and narrowly escaping the rocks, which came nearly to the top of the water. We were fortunate enough to procure another anchor of a ship, which had just arrived on the coast. A few days before we left the island, we fell in with an English brig, which came there for the purpose of trading with the natives, but unarmed. He came to anchor near us, and observed that he wished to lie under the cover of our guns, while we remained here, observing that the day before, he saw a sail standing in, having the appearance of a French privateer, and should that be the case, he should probably fall into their hands, and lose his all, as this vessel and cargo was all the property which he possessed.

[18] He also told the captain of the Almonak, that he had a number of curiosities on board, which he would present to him for his acceptance; among which was a creature called the ourang-outang; he was taken at the island of Borneo, and is a great curiosity, even in India. When walking upright, this creature was about four feet high, his head resembling that of a young negro child. This creature moved with ease, was good natured to white people, would often put his arm around the sailors’ necks and walk fore and aft the deck with them; but towards negroes he appeared to have an inveterate hatred. Our cook was a large black fellow, and when employed in any particular business, especially that of stooping, this creature would come behind him and clinch and bite him most severely; and in a very few minutes would be at the top-mast head, looking down and seemingly laughing, as though he had gained some important victory; while the poor cook was left to rub his wounds without being able to obtain any further satisfaction. The English brig being manned by Lascar sailors, which are black, the captain said that in a gale of wind he always felt himself unsafe to send them aloft in the night, as the ourang-outang would often follow them, and take every advantage to bite and harass them. We kept this creature till we had been at sea about fifteen days on our home-bound passage, and were in hopes of presenting one of the greatest curiosities ever seen in America. But to our grief one morning he came from aloft on deck, made some signs of sickness, laid down and died instantly. An unfortunate Dutch sailor, who twenty-five years before had been impressed into the English service, had lately made his escape and got on board the brig I have mentioned. Wishing to return to Holland, his native country, we took him on board our ship, and, although many times boarded by English men of war and strictly searched, he secreted himself so closely that he remained undiscovered until we conveyed him safely on board one of his own country ships. The poor fellow often said, “I am afraid I shall find none of my relations or friends left, after so long an absence.”

We now took leave of our English friends, and completing our cargo, on the last of October, after a stay of [19] two months on this coast, we weighed anchor and stood out to sea, bound to the Isle of France, where we arrived on the first of December. Remaining there three weeks, we again put to sea, and in fifteen days came in sight of the Cape of Good Hope. Falling about ten miles to the leeward, we bore up with a fair and brisk wind, just passing round the point of the Cape, when it became an entire calm. This was worse than a gale; the sea running very high, the ship rolled from side to side, and oftentimes would almost roll her yards into the water. Oftentimes we thought she would upset or her mast go overboard. After remaining in this situation about two hours, a breeze sprung up which enabled us to pursue our course, and which continued until we arrived near the coast of the United States of America. One afternoon, about four o’clock, saw a schooner ahead; coming near to her, she lowered all sail. We hailed her, and asked if any thing was wanted; and were answered, as we thought, no. We hailed the second time, and received the same answer; understanding that they wanted nothing. One of the crew thought she said differently, when, on a third inquiry, found they were an American vessel, had neither bread, meat, or lights, and were in a state of complete starvation. Several of them had become so weak as to lash themselves to the rigging for safety. We supplied them with all the necessaries we could possibly spare, being short ourselves, but sufficient as we supposed to take them to New London, Connecticut, their intended port. They had been out sixty-seven days from the Spanish main, in South America, and for the five last days had nothing to eat except a few crumbs of biscuit which they had collected together. On the morning of the day on which we expected to see land, the weather being cloudy, about eight o’clock, breakers were discovered ahead, and the water striking high into the air. Put the ship about, and running but a short time the same was seen still ahead; the water seeming muddy, hove the lead, and found ten fathom water. We ran this course but a little distance before we found ourselves surrounded with breakers on all sides. The wind being fresh and a heavy sea, we were constantly throwing the lead, and found sometimes [20] twenty fathom water, sometimes ten; about one o’clock, finding but five fathom, which is thirty feet, expecting every minute the ship would strike to the bottom, the captain ordered axes to be brought, and every man to take care of himself. Our boats being much worm-eaten could be of no use to us should the ship strike; therefore the only way would be to cut away the masts. The fog continuing there could be no observation taken, and no one knowing where we were, nothing could be done but to direct our course as well as we could to avoid these difficulties. At eight o’clock in the evening we found a sufficient depth of water, and on examination found it to be Nantucket South shoals; the wind then being fair, in the middle of April, eighteen hundred and six, we arrived in the port of Boston.

I remained in Boston until the middle of June following, when I agreed with a gentleman to go to Liverpool on board a new ship then lying in Kennebeck river. On my arrival at that place, finding neither owner nor captain, and the ship being but partly laden, I waited for several days, and then shipped on board the schooner Decatur, an old vessel of one hundred tons burthen. She lay alongside of the wharf, and so heavily laden with lumber as to cause her decks to be under water. Our crew consisted of only six in number; no more could be obtained. The captain offering us the extra pay of one deficient hand to be divided among us, we accepted, and on the third day of July put to sea. We immediately found we had sufficient employment; only three hands before the mast, one hand at the helm, one at the pump, and the other not wanting for employment. We soon began to repent of our bargain, but there was no help for it. We were bound for Montego Bay, north side of the island of Jamaica; which passage we performed in forty days. We made the islands of St. Domingo and Cuba, and were boarded by an English fifty gun ship, Arethusa, who sent their boat and ordered the captain and all hands on board, which was done, while they manned the schooner. After arriving on board many questions were asked us separately; where we were from, what our cargo consisted of, if we were not Englishmen, and if we should not like to enlist on board his [21] majesty’s ship. Our answer being in the negative, wine was brought forward and we were invited to drink. This not answering their wishes, we were ordered below, where we remained until eight o’clock next morning; during which time we had neither wine nor food to eat. We were then called up and returned on board our schooner, their men returning and leaving us at our liberty. On examining our effects, found my chest and trunk pillaged of most of their contents. These articles were not contraband, and could not be taken by any officer, but were pillaged by the crew. We soon made the best of our way on the passage, and arrived at Montego Bay after a passage of forty days. We lay here three weeks, in which time we discharged our cargo and took in another. I had many generous offers in this place to take charge of a store, and tried every possible means to get discharged from the schooner, but to no effect; the captain observing that he could discharge no man. We then weighed anchor, and laid our course once more for the United States of America. We ran close by the port of Havana, made Turks Island, and after being out but a few days, found our meat and bread in a bad condition; sometimes so bad it could not be considered safe to eat it. This evil could not be remedied through the whole passage; this, together with bad weather, squalls and head winds, seemed sometimes as though we should never reach our native homes: however, in about forty days we arrived in Boston bay. Within one mile of Cape Cod, about eight o’clock in the evening, I was standing on deck, with a fine southerly breeze, anticipating the pleasure we should enjoy on being in Boston the next evening, when in an instant a squall struck us ahead, which carried away our foretopmast and main boom, and left our sails in rags. Fortunately no man was hurt, although our captain was saved from being knocked overboard by catching hold of the main rigging. This squall continued only for a minute, when all was calm again. The only business now was to repair, which we so effectually did before daylight as to be able to make sail, and soon arrived in Boston harbour, greatly rejoiced at being able once more to leave old Neptune, bad beef and wormy bread, and visit my friends [22] on terra firma. I then went to Concord, Massachusetts, and made up my mind to leave the seas for the present.

Wishing to see the Western country, I made an arrangement with a gentleman to go to Detroit, Michigan Territory, and to take out his family, consisting of his wife, three children and a man-servant; which he was desirous of removing to that country. Himself having business, went on horseback several days before we started. I purchased two horses and a pleasure wagon, and proceeded to Albany[^[3]] in New-York, and passing through many handsome villages, such as Utica, Bloomfield, Canandaigua,[^[4]] Batavia, &c., came to Buffalo,[^[5]] at the foot of Lake Erie, where we met the gentleman waiting to receive his family, which he was going to put on board of a vessel and go up the lake. But preferring myself to go by land, I crossed the Niagara river into Canada; it being but three hundred miles to Detroit on that shore, while it is four hundred on the United States shore, and a much worse road. I went to a friend’s house, formerly from Concord, who lived about nine miles from this place. This friend wishing to go on the journey with me, we began to make preparations; however, as I was a stranger in that country, he wished me to visit the Falls of Niagara, thirty-eight miles below. After notifying the before mentioned gentleman, we proceeded on and saw the stupendous work of nature, which has so often and so accurately been described by other travelers as to need no description from me.

After spending three days in this neighbourhood, we returned to my friend’s house. The vessel which was to carry the gentleman’s family was expecting to sail in a few days, and I intended to start as soon. But a day or two before we were ready to proceed, standing at my friend’s door, we saw a gentleman riding up in great haste, who informed us that war had taken place between the United States and Great-Britain. This was sorrowful news indeed to me; and my only remedy was, if possible, to make my way back into the United States. Accordingly I harnessed my horses to the waggon, and drove with all possible speed down to the ferry and called for the boat; but judge of my surprise and sorrow, when, instead of the ferryman handling their oars, I was accosted [23] by sentinels walking with their guns, who said they had strict orders to forbid any one crossing over. I stood some time looking to the opposite shore, which was about one mile, and could see the same business going on. I then returned in haste; was advised to take my horses into the woods and secrete them, which I did. Finding ourselves destitute of many articles which we wanted, such as tea, sugar, tobacco, &c., and not being able to procure them on this side, as there were no stores on the Canada side where they were kept, we resolved to make an adventure upon the other side. Accordingly when night came on, we fitted out a boat with four men with oars, and sent them to accomplish our object. They had eighteen miles to cross the lake, which was performed before daylight. The next morning, unperceived by any one except the storekeeper, who was always ready to supply the wants of any one when he was sure of cash in return, the boat was hauled into the bushes, and the men secreted during the day. In the meantime the articles wanted were put up and at night put on board, when the boat was shoved off, and they steered their course directly back again. Owing to the darkness of the night they steered too much up the lake, and at daylight found they were about six miles from shore. They pulled very hard, but did not arrive until after sunrise. Fearing they might be discovered from Fort Erie,[^[6]] they carried their goods up into the bushes and hauled the boat after them, when they came up to a house a little distance from their landing, and went about their daily employment. About two hours afterwards a non-commissioned officer, whom we found to be a serjeant, and four men belonging to the cavalry, rode up to the door, armed and in British uniform, and demanded if there had been a boat across the lake to this place. The answer was no. They then dismounted, and walking in, began to search in and about the house, but found nothing. Observing their disappointment, we took pity on them, invited them in, and gave them some spirits to drink. The morning was warm, and after drinking several times, they concluded that all was as it should be, and returned to their station. I remained here several days, and began to grow quite discontented with my [24] present prospects; I therefore concluded to call on General Brock,[^[7]] the Commander-in-chief of the Province of Upper Canada, and solicit his aid. His headquarters were at Fort George,[^[8]] forty-seven miles below, near the head of Lake Ontario. The second day of July I started with a horse and gig, went to Chippewa and stayed over night. Next morning, wishing to know my fate, I proceeded on till within about one mile of the Fort, when ascending a hill, I fell in the rear of five hundred Indians, who were marching in Indian file, painted, and in their war dress. Not wishing to interrupt them at this critical time, I moved slowly after them until I had an opportunity of passing them without molestation to either party. They walked with their faces down, and paid no attention to any one. On coming on to the plain near the Fort, I discovered warlike preparations; flying artillery, cavalry and foot, not in great numbers, but exercising and preparing for an attack. The American Fort Niagara,[^[9]] and the English Fort George, lie nearly opposite, one mile distant from each other, and on the opposite sides of the Niagara river; they were each under fearful apprehensions. I rode up to the General’s house and inquired for him, and was conducted to the garden. I walked up to him and made known my business, and my anxious desire of crossing the river with my property. He politely replied, he had no objection to granting my request, provided the officers of the United States would grant the same indulgence to his Majesty’s subjects; but until then he could give me no permit. After many questions, to which he received my answers, he said I should see him at Fort Erie the next forenoon, which I did, about ten o’clock. While conversing with him this morning, a cannon was discharged at Black Rock,[^[10]] two miles below, which at this time had become fortified by the United States; he started, and said, “I must consider you as a prisoner of war, and unless you can procure bonds of fifty thousand dollars to remain within this Province, you must immediately be committed to prison.” My friend accidentally standing by at this time, passed his word for me, which was sufficient, and I was set at liberty. The cause of this discharge from the cannon, and many others which followed, was the celebration of the fourth of July, it being that day of the month.

[25] I remained under this bond seventeen days, but was allowed to go where I chose without molestation. Waggons were daily coming in from the back woods loaded with men, women and children, many of whom were in a very distressed situation; they begged for permission to cross to the United States, many of whom were formerly from there; but instead of this request being granted, many of the men were made soldiers, and their horses taken and employed in the service of government. Bad as this may seem, yet it was far preferable to remaining in the woods among the savages, who assumed the right of plundering whatever came in their way. These people were truly in a bad situation, for they were neither safe at home, nor on the frontiers, as the soldiers were few and provisions scarce. As for my part, I was allowed to go where I pleased; and oftentimes fell in company with the officers, who treated me very politely. On the seventeenth day of my bondage, while at my lodgings, I received a line from an officer, ordering me to appear at Fort Erie; which I did. I was then conducted two miles below, to the ferry, where a boat was prepared, and I was ordered to go on board, and soon arrived on the United States’ shore. When I first received this order, suspecting what would take place, took my friend aside, told him I knew that a gentleman in Buffalo had petitioned General Brock for my release, and thought it possible this would take place, and should I not return that day, he might be assured that I was at liberty; and that I wished him at night to build a large fire on the lake shore, and have my horses and carriage ready if I should call.

My object now was to get a boat sufficiently large to carry two horses and a waggon. I was told that I could obtain one by going eighteen miles up the lake. I immediately hired a horse, and went to the place, but found the boat was gone twelve miles further up. I passed on, and when I arrived there, found the boat had gone still further up, and was obliged to give over the pursuit. This being the only suitable boat in the vicinity, and not being able to obtain that, I began almost to despair of ever getting my horses across to the United States’ shore. When night came on, I could plainly discern the light [26] which my friend had kindled on the opposite shore; which was for a mark for me to steer by, had I found a boat; and although I was determined to run every risk, and venture all hazards, to cross, and get my property on board; yet I was obliged to relinquish all hope, and had the mortification to see all my attempts frustrated. I therefore returned back to Buffalo, purchased a horse and gig, and returned home to Massachusetts.

I remained at home till the third of July, eighteen hundred and fourteen, when a gentleman, who was going to Kentucky, wished me to accompany him. I took a horse and waggon, and we set out on our journey; pursuing the same route which I formerly took, to Batavia, in the western part of New-York. Our intention was to go by land to Cincinnati, at the south-western part of Ohio, where we should meet the Ohio river. But falling in with a gentleman who observed that he was well acquainted with all that part of the country, and who advised us to steer southerly to the head of Alleghany river, the distance being but about forty-five miles, where we should find a pleasant water carriage the remaining part of our journey; we agreed with him, and sold him my waggon and harness, as there was no road for wheels a part of this route, purchased provision, and packed all our effects on to the horse, and set out on foot, driving our horse before us. We travelled on two days, seldom seeing any house, having very bad roads, such as by many people would be considered no road at all. We stopped at night at a log hut, found the people more friendly than intelligent; inquired how far we had come, and were informed we had travelled forty miles, and had forty miles further to go. We were greatly disappointed and mortified at our informer’s account of this route, especially as provision was very scarce both for man and beast. However, the next morning we continued on our journey till about twelve o’clock, when we stopped at a log hut. There had been several acres of land cleared, and we noticed a very tall hemlock-tree at the farther end of this clearing, and a man chopping it down. It being of an extraordinary size, we thought we would go to the root and see it fall. The man who was chopping observed, it would be some time before it [27] would fall; and my friend walked away to some little distance. I remained a few minutes, and then followed him. When I had proceeded about half of the length of the tree I heard a cracking noise, and looking back, I saw the tree coming directly upon me. There was no chance of escaping; I therefore clung my arms to me and partly sat down; the tree fell, the body touching my left shoulder, and a large limb my right. I was completely covered with the limbs and leaves, but without the slightest injury. I soon cleared myself of this uncouth situation, and looked on my narrow escape with surprise; the other two men stood motionless with fear. We soon pursued our journey; and the next day, about four o’clock in the afternoon, were overtaken by a boy, who observed he was travelling our way about one mile and a half, when he said we should come to a tavern. This was joyful news to us, as our provision was almost exhausted, and we had but few chances of renewing it. The clouds had been gathering fast, and there was an appearance of rain; in a few minutes the wind began to blow violently, the limbs of trees were falling on all sides, and large trees were blown up by the roots; we could scarcely escape the danger of one, before another presented itself. The cracking and falling of the trees was terrible, not only to the hearing, but the sight also. I jumped from tree to tree, not knowing which way or direction was most safe. Heavy thunder, sharp lightning, and the rain falling in torrents, made the scene doubly terrible, and seemingly, nothing but death awaited us every moment. This gale continued about twenty minutes, when the wind ceased, and all was still. My first object was to find my companions and horse, if still alive. I had not seen them since the commencement of the gale. I called aloud, sometimes by name, at other times halloo, but no answer being made, this gave me reason to believe that all was lost. After renewing my calls for some time, I heard a voice and followed it; found it to {be} my companion, and soon after the little boy came up. Our next search was for the horse, which we found about one hundred yards from where we stood, standing still among the fallen trees, stripped of every thing except the bridle on his head. We made him fast, then [28] went in search of the baggage, which we found, at considerable distance from him, almost buried in the mud. Placing it on the horse’s back once more, we related our danger to each other, and proceeded on our way, when we soon arrived at the tavern which the boy had mentioned.

This tavern was an old log building of about twenty feet square, and contained the landlord, his wife, and six children. Here we found some pork, a small quantity of bread, and some whiskey, but no food for our horse. This was the greatest accommodation we had found since leaving Batavia. Finding a man who was going on to the end of our land voyage, about seven miles, we left the boy, and about one hour before sunset, we pursued our course. The mud and fallen trees very much retarded our progress; but notwithstanding our wading in water, blundering over trees and stumps, &c., at ten o’clock we arrived at the Alleghany river.

The next morning we met with three soldiers who had purchased a canoe, and were bound down the river; we made an arrangement with them, paid one half for the boat, sold my horse, and began to prepare for a trip down the river. We endeavoured to purchase provision, but could not obtain it for money. Having a blanket, I traded with a good lady for a few pounds of bread and pork. The truth is, the land about this place is so poor, the few inhabitants who are settled here have no resources only from the country, back a considerable distance; and hence they may be called real speculators on travellers, who happen to take this course for the Ohio river. Our company, now consisting of five in number, embarked on board this about three o’clock in the afternoon, and at sunset we came to a sandy beach, hauled our boat ashore, and concluded to remain here during the night. We built us a fire, cooked some provision, and encamped for the night. The weather being warm, we made but little provision against the cold; about one o’clock I awoke, and found myself very chilly. The rest being all asleep, I got up, and found I had been lying in water about two inches deep. Mustering all hands we went further up on to the shore, drawing our boat after us, built a fire, got warm and partly dried [29] when daylight appeared. Each one now taking a piece of bread in one hand and a piece of pork in the other, made a hearty breakfast; after which we took to our oars and continued on our course. The river being very low at this season of the year, made the navigation of our boat, although small, very difficult. Sometimes, for a long distance, we would row in almost still water, then coming to rapids, we were urged on with great velocity among rocks and trees, which had lodged among them. One of the soldiers being acquainted with this river, rendered our situation much safer, as he served as our conductor; otherwise we should hardly have dared to run the venture. The log houses on this river were few in number, and from the poorness of the land, and the then existing war, the inhabitants were left destitute almost of the necessaries of life for themselves, much more so for travellers. Deer, bears, and other small game being plenty, their principal dependence was on these for sustenance. The fourth day of our voyage, in the afternoon, we discovered a house on the bank of the river. We pulled ashore, went up and requested to stay over night. Our request was granted, and we had plenty of venison, and fed to our full satisfaction. The man observed he had just killed a fine buck, and was glad to entertain all strangers. We remained here during the night, leaving what little provision we had in a knapsack on board the boat, which we hauled on the bank, thinking all would be secure. Next morning went down, and found all safe except the provision, which had been carried off in the night by some dogs, their footsteps being plainly to be seen. We mentioned this to the man of the house, who observed he was very sorry for our misfortune, especially as it must be his own dogs, he keeping a pack of hounds. There was no remedy however for this accident; we therefore made ourselves contented, he saying that he would furnish us with every thing in his power, which was but little; and for this little he was careful to charge us an exorbitant price. He however entertained us with many amusing stories of his great feats in hunting, particularly his great success in killing catamounts, which are numerous about the Alleghany mountains. He led a horse up to the door, sounded a horn, [30] and immediately the beast was surrounded by twenty or thirty dogs, barking, howling, and jumping almost into the poor animal’s mouth, which stood with great patience, and seemed not to notice them. This, said the man, is my pleasure and support, and what I would not exchange for all the luxury of an eastern city. Pleased with this history, we took to our oars, pushed on, working hard during the day, camping on the shore during the night, with short provision till the eighth day, when we came within thirty miles of Pittsburg. Being tired of these waters, we sold our boat, and proceeded on by land. Here we came to a plentiful part of the country, and the next day we arrived at Pittsburg,[^[11]] at the head of Ohio river, three hundred miles from where we first took water. We staid here one day, then parted with the three soldiers, and took passage in a keel boat bound down the river. On board of this boat we had every accommodation we could wish. Forty of the passengers, besides twelve of the boat’s crew, stopped at Wheeling, a pleasant town in Virginia, and then proceeded on to Marietta, at the mouth of the Muskingum river, and so on to Cincinnati, Ohio. Here we went on board a flat-bottomed boat, and proceeded to Louisville, Kentucky, at the falls of the Ohio river, seven hundred miles below Pittsburg. I tarried at this place several days, then purchased me a horse, saddle and bridle, parted with my old friend, who had found his brother and wished to remain, started for the eastern States, passed through Frankfort, the seat of government in Kentucky, and came on to Cincinnati in Ohio.

Here I met three gentlemen who were travelling on to the head of the Alleghany river; their company was very acceptable to me, as I was a stranger through that wilderness country. The day after we commenced our journey together, it began to rain, and continued raining most of the time for ten days, which made the roads extremely bad, and hard travelling. The soil being of a clayey nature, in many hollows, which, in a dry season, are perfectly dry, we now found the water quite deep, in strong currents, almost impassable for horses, and quite so with carriages. Our feet were constantly wet during the day, and our horses frequently mid-rib deep in water. [31] There being but few bridges in this quarter, and these mostly log ones, we were frequently compelled to encounter these vallies or guzzles, without bridges, full of water, and extremely difficult to pass. In some places, in low grounds, there would be log-causeways for a considerable distance, which, at this wet season, were very slippery, and rendered travelling doubly difficult and dangerous; although in a less wet time they might assist in keeping travellers out of the mud. The accommodations on the road for ourselves and horses were very good until we came to the north part of Pennsylvania. Here I was attacked with fever and ague, and was obliged to stop several days. All the company, except one man, left me, they being very anxious to arrive at their places of destination. I waited here until I was a little recruited, and then proceeded on, although very weak and feeble, both from the disorder and the medicine I had taken. The third night after our departure, we stopped at a hut, where we found provision for ourselves and food for our horses. During the night it rained very hard; the next morning we inquired of our landlord the distance to the next house, and were told it was twenty miles and a very rough road, which proved strictly true. We climbed over rocky mountains, often meeting with fallen trees, and no way of getting round them. My fellow-traveller would get off his horse and assist me in getting off mine, as I was unable to dismount alone; he would then leap the horses over the trees, and then help me on again. Thus we continued ascending and descending these high hills; and, although we started very early in the morning, and were diligent during the whole day, we did not arrive at the above mentioned house until sunset, and were completely drenched in rain. We stopped, went into an old cabin, found a woman and a half a dozen children, asked permission to stay, and it was granted. There was nothing for our horses but a bunch of old straw lying out of the doors; the saddles were taken off, and the horses tied to it, where they remained all night. We then took off our coats and sat down to dry ourselves; but there was but very little difference between our present situation and out of doors. This place we named Hobson’s choice, (that or none). We then inquired of [32] the woman whether she could furnish us with a supper. She pleasantly replied she could, with such a rarity as she had not seen in the house, till that day, for three months and a half; it was some Indian meal, which she would make into pot-cakes, and which with a little butter, some pickles, and a kind of tea, which grew around her cabin, she said was good enough for any gentleman. These delicacies being ready, we sat down, and I ate extremely hearty, not having eaten or drank anything since sunrise; it was a delicious meal. The next morning we partook of the same fare, paid two dollars each, put our saddles on to our trembling, half starved horses, and bidding our hostess good bye, proceeded on our journey. On our way we stopped at a house in an Indian village belonging to the Seneca tribe,[^[12]] which was improved as an inn. Here we found plenty of good provisions, and food for our horses. It was a small log house, very neat inside, and the accommodations superior to any we had found on the road. They had all kinds of spirits, and, from all appearance, made but little use of them themselves; a circumstance not characteristic of these wild men of the woods. One man introduced himself as Major Obee; his manners did not appear like the rest of the Indians, and we understood the reason was, he was educated at Philadelphia. After several days more of hard travelling, we came out on the great western turnpike in New-York.[^[13]] This was a pleasant sight to us, and probably would have been to our poor animals could they have expressed their feelings; for in travelling among mud, rocks and stumps, they had scarcely any hair left on their legs. I now considered myself almost at home, although three hundred miles from it. After this nothing material happened to me; I soon travelled these three hundred miles, and safely arrived in Massachusetts the beginning of October.

In my absence, I had agreed to return again; accordingly on the third day of February, 1815, I set out, and travelled nearly the same road as before, to the head of the Alleghany river; what they call the head of navigation. This place is called Olean Point,[^[14]] and was much altered in appearance since my former visit here; instead of a few log huts as before, there were forty or [33] fifty shanties, or temporary log houses, built up, and completely filled with men, women and children, household furniture thrown up in piles; and a great number of horses, waggons, sleighs, &c., &c. These people were emigrants from the eastern States, principally from the State of Maine,[^[15]] and bound to different States down the Ohio river. Two gentlemen undertook to take a number of these people, and found it to be about twelve hundred, of all ages and sexes. They had a large number of flat-bottomed boats built for their conveyance; these were boarded up at the sides, and roofs over them, with chimneys suitable for cooking, and were secure from the weather. There were also many rafts of boards and shingles, timber and saw logs, which would find a ready market at different places on the Ohio river. There are many saw-mills on the streams above this place, where these articles are manufactured from the fine timber which grows in vast quantities in this vicinity. The river at this time had risen full bank, and I should suppose was navigable for vessels of fifty tons burden; but was frozen over to the depth of ten or twelve inches; this was the cause of so many people being assembled here at this time, as many of them had been here two months waiting an opportunity to descend the river. I waited about ten days, which brought it nearly to the close of March. On Saturday night sat up late, heard some cracking of the ice, several of us observing that we should soon be on our way; went to bed. Next morning at daylight found the river nearly clear, and at eight o’clock it was completely so. The place now presented a curious sight; the men conveying their goods on board the boats and rafts, the women scolding, and children crying, some clothed, and some half clothed, all in haste, filled with anxiety, as if a few minutes were lost their passage would be lost also. By ten o’clock the whole river for one mile appeared to be one solid body of boats and rafts. What, but just before, appeared a considerable village, now remained but a few solitary huts with their occupants. Myself with the adventurers now drifted on rapidly with the current, and in six days we were in the Ohio river, and should have been much sooner had it been safe to have run in [34] the night. We found this river had risen in the same proportion as the Alleghany; and several houses at which I had stopped the July before, and which then stood thirty or forty feet above the surface of the water, were now so completely surrounded with water that we could float up to the doors; and on my arrival at Cincinnati I was told that the water had risen sixty feet above low water mark. Small boats would run just below the city, and come up in back water into the streets. Much damage was done in many places by this extraordinary freshet.

In this part of the country I remained for a considerable time, part of which I spent in this state, and part in Kentucky; but was soon attacked with fever and ague again. This complaint seemed to be quite attached to me, and no effort which I could make was sufficient to remove it while I remained on the banks of this river. I imputed the severity of this complaint to the heavy fogs which were experienced at this place; and determined to leave it, and go either to the North or South.

Having concluded on the latter, I took passage on board a boat to Shipping’s Port,[^[16]] just below the Falls of the Ohio. Here I went on board a barge of eighty tons burthen, bound to New-Orleans. There were but a few steam boats traversing these waters at this time, for which reason these large boats of burden were built principally for conveying merchandize up the river; although they commonly went with full freight of country produce down. They are built with two masts, and sails, which are of little service, the stream being so crooked that many times the sails are hoisted with a fair wind, and in running a few miles the bend will be so great as to bring the wind ahead. In going down we stopped at many places on the Illinois and Tennessee side. Getting into the Mississippi river, our first stop at any town was at New Madrid.[^[17]] We made the boat fast to the shore, and about twelve o’clock at night was awaked by a noise which appeared like a cable drawing over the boat’s side. I started and went on deck; found all quiet. My fear was that the boat had struck adrift, and was running over a log; but on inquiry found it was an earthquake. Next morning got under way, and the water having become [35] low, the sawyers made their appearance plentifully, some several feet out of the water. These sawyers are large trees, washed from the shore, which drift down till the roots or branches, reaching the bottom, fasten into the mud and become as firm as when standing in the forest. Should a boat be so unfortunate as to strike one of these, it would in all probability prove fatal; therefore every precaution is necessary to avoid them. We had run but a few days when our boat rubbed on one of these logs, which lay so far under water as to escape our notice. Coming to the rudder, it lifted it from its hinges, and took it overboard. We immediately pulled for the shore, made fast, and sent the boat in search of it; luckily about one mile below we found it and returned. We then proceeded on, and in two days after the same accident occurred again. Diligent search was made, but without effect. We then went on shore, cut down a small tree, and made a steering oar, about sixty feet long. The stern of the boat was so high, it was with difficulty this could be managed. In turning round points of land, we had many narrow escapes. Our usual custom was to get to the shore and make fast before night. At one time we concluded to drop anchor in the river, which we did; and next morning attempting to raise it, found it fast below. After working till ten o’clock, found there was no possibility of raising it, and cut away. This was unfortunate for us, as we had formerly occasion for it, and more so afterwards. Several nights on this trip, we made fast to the shore near the cane brakes. These grow here very thick, and many miles in extent; at this season of the year they are dry; when setting fire to them they will crack, making a noise like soldiers’ musketry; which caused great amusement for the passengers and crew. We arrived at Natchez,[^[18]] Mississippi, and stopped there a part of two days. Immediately on leaving the place, found we had left one man on shore. We hailed a man standing there, and requested him to bring this man on board, who had just come in sight. They jumped into a boat, and when come within two hundred yards of us the man fell overboard, which was the last we saw of him.

[36] The river now becoming much straiter than we had found it before for three hundred miles, made the trip easier and safer, and on the eighth day of January, 1817, we arrived at New-Orleans.

During my stay I remained the principal part of the time on board this barge. The weather some part of the time was cool, and three nights the ground froze quite hard. Oranges and other fruits froze on the trees. By accounts from Natchez we learned that the snow had fallen six inches deep; a circumstance never known before by the oldest person resident there.

The poor negroes, I was informed, suffered much, and many of them died. Having tarried till my business was closed, I determined to return by land; and finding a number of persons, who were going on the same route, I provided myself with a knapsack, a blanket, a tin quart pot and necessary provisions, and on the 23d day of February shouldered my knapsack and set out on my journey. I travelled three miles to the northward to Lake Pontchartrain;[^[19]] there found a vessel in the afternoon ready to cross the lake, being about thirty miles. The wind being light, the next day at twelve o’clock we met the opposite shore; went to a tavern, took dinner, and found eight men travelling the same way, mostly strangers to each other, and but one who had travelled the road before. After collecting our forces, we went on, and travelled about fifteen miles that afternoon. The country being flat, we had to wade in water and mud a considerable part of the way, and in many places knee deep. This we found to be attended with bad consequences, as many of us took cold thereby. At night we stopped at a small house, the occupants of which gave us leave to sleep on the floor. We wrapped our blankets around us, with our wet clothes on, placed our feet to the fire, and so remained through the night.

The next morning our joints were so stiff we were hardly able to walk; yet we travelled on about two hours, when we stopped by the way-side, struck up a fire, cooked some victuals, refreshed ourselves, and marched on; the same we did several times during the day; and at night found we had gained forty miles. We again refreshed ourselves with food, and went to our repose [37] for the night, it being the custom among these travellers to start very early, as much as two hours before day. Not being accustomed to this way of travelling, myself as well as several more wished to alter this course, and wait till a later hour for starting; but the major part refused our proposal, saying they wanted to get home as quick as possible.

No one wishing to be left alone, in the morning we all followed our leader; and went fifteen miles without refreshment of any kind. My feet had now become very sore in consequence of travelling through mud and water, and I was much exhausted with fatigue. We stopped, I ate and drank with the rest of my comrades, but felt quite unwell. After sitting half an hour, felt unable to travel; they endeavored to encourage me, but I found it impossible to keep pace with them. I was sorry to be left alone, nevertheless observed to them, I did not wish to detain any one, and requested them to pursue their journey. I got from them all the information possible for the journey, bid them farewell, and we parted. At this time I was only one hundred miles from New-Orleans, and nine hundred miles to complete my journey to the Ohio river, and to add to my misfortune, five hundred of this lay through an Indian country, with but few white men on the road, and their friendship not to be relied on so much as the natives.

When my companions left me, I was at a very friendly man’s house, who condoled my misfortune. Here I tarried about three hours, when, having determined to pursue my journey, I took leave of these friendly people, and commenced my lonely journey, moving but slowly along; and soon found I had entered the boundaries of the Choctaw nation.[^[20]] I had no difficulty in finding the way, as a few years before this, a road had been cut through the Choctaw and Chickasaw nations to the Tennessee river;[^[21]] and as young trees and brush had grown up in this road, the trees were marked to assist the traveller. By strictly observing these marked trees I felt secure, and proceeded slowly along, sometimes ten, and sometimes fifteen miles in a day.

At night I generally found an Indian hut, where they [38] would receive me very friendly in their way, and throw down skins for me to sleep on.

Seven days had now elapsed, and my health not in the least recruited, when, as I was walking on very deliberately, thinking of the decrease of my provision, and the distance I had yet to travel, I was overtaken by a white man, who asked me from whence I came, and where bound, at the same time observing that I looked sick, which probably must be the cause of my being alone; I answered it was. He then said, “I live but one mile from this, go with me.” I did so, and found his wife and several children in a small log hut, by whom I was received very kindly.

This favor could not have come more opportunely, as I was both fatigued and sick. This man was from North Carolina; and his motive for thus exiling himself and family to this part of the country was not my business to inquire; I have only to say, that they look suspicious. With this family I remained two days, and no brother, who had been long absent, could have been treated with more kindness and affection.

I gave him a narrative of my life, which he and the family listened to with great attention; he also narrated his great adventures in hunting.

The principal food which this cabin afforded, was dried venison and bread; the venison, for want of salt to preserve it, is cut in slices, dried and smoked, which makes what they call jerk.

I now felt myself able to travel, and concluded to proceed on. He furnished me with as much of this meat as I could carry, and after ascertaining that it was twenty-five miles to the next house, I took an affectionate farewell of this friendly man and family, and with my renewed strength, and supply of provisions, hastily travelled on until about twelve o’clock, hardly remembering I was weak; but becoming somewhat faint for want of food, I sat down, took some refreshment, and then travelled on again, till I arrived at an Indian village, where I found two squaws, all the rest having left; for what purpose I know not; probably for a frolic. I here obtained a pint of sour milk, which proved an excellent [39] cordial to me at this time. I inquired for a place of entertainment, and found, by their holding up four fingers, that it was four miles. This I quickly travelled, and found a neat Indian hut, where I found the privilege of staying by myself, without interruption from the family, who resided in an adjoining one. Salt provision and bread was what I now wanted, but neither of them could be procured; if I except some corn pounded up, mixed with water, and baked on a stone by the fire. In travelling on several days, I came to the line between the Choctaw and Chickasaw nations,[^[22]] where I saw a large hewn log house and went in. The room was neat, and, as is usual, contained no furniture, except a table, nor any person, except a squaw and a few children. I walked into another apartment, and after staying some time, two white men came in and sat down, but appeared to have no wish for conversation with me. I endeavored to make some inquiries of them, but found they declined any answer. A dish of victuals was brought in and set on the table, which apparently consisted of minced meat and vegetables. I was very hungry, and the sight of this food was delightful. They sat down; I asked permission to partake with them; the answer was no. I stated my hungry situation, and observed that no reasonable compensation should be wanted; the answer was again no. I then got up and walked away, wondering within myself what could be the cause of these unfeeling creatures being here; probably for no good. I faintly travelled on until about three o’clock in the afternoon, when I came to an Indian hut, went round to the back part, there being no door in front, saw two Indians sitting on a platform of hewn logs, and endeavored to make some inquiries, but could not be understood. Thinking of the contents of my knapsack, which contained a little jerk and fat pork, without bread or salt, my stomach too weak to receive these, and I knew of nothing else I could obtain. At this moment a boy came out of a small hut a few paces distant, bringing a large wooden bowl full of boiled corn, and setting it down, they three placed themselves around it. I, knowing the Indian custom to distribute a part of what they had to strangers, ventured up and formed one of the circle. A large horn [40] spoon, perhaps three times the size of a common table spoon, was placed on the corn, which the oldest Indian filled and put into his mouth; the second one did the same, then I followed, and so it went round. When we had continued so a few minutes, a tall well dressed Indian came out of the door, looked upon us all, but viewed me very attentively; he then went back and closed the door, but immediately returned bringing with him a cake made of pounded corn and baked, about the size of a large cracker, but much thicker; this he put into my hand, and then stepped back with his eyes fixed on me. I divided it into four parts, and gave each of my messmates a part. He smiled and went again into the house, and left us to finish our repast. Never had I more reason for gratitude than at this time, and I think I did feel thankful that their hearts were open to my necessities. After we had done eating, one of the Indians took the bowl and carried it back, the others followed, leaving me alone. From the appearance of these Indians, I supposed they might be servants or laborers for the Indian who brought me the cake, who I soon found was a chief; for when they were gone, this chief came out again to me, dressed in great style, with silver bands around his arms, a large silver plate on his breast, moccassins and leggings elegantly worked in Indian fashion, a handsome hat filled with plumes, with rows of beads around it, and other ornaments; a horse was led up to a stake, a genteel saddle and bridle was put on him, and in every respect the horse appeared fit for any gentleman to ride upon. The chief looked on himself, then on the horse, then on me; and I, wishing to gratify him, expressed my surprise and gratification as well as I could both in my looks and actions. This pleased him well; he soon spoke a few words of English, and handed me a bundle of papers. On examining them, I found them to be bills of goods to a considerable amount purchased at New-Orleans. On looking over these bills, I found they contained a number of articles which he then had on; pointing to the charges and then to the articles, I expressed great surprise at the riches which he wore. All this exalted me much in his esteem, and we continued thus a considerable time. He then led me into the room where [41] his wife and children were, gave me a glass of good old whiskey, conducted me into another neat apartment, spread a handsome grass carpet on the floor, and, by signs, bid me welcome to stay all night. In the same manner, by signs, he informed me that he was going off, and bowing, left the room. I saw him no more; probably he was going to attend an Indian council. Being refreshed with food, and it drawing towards night, I laid down on the carpet, covered myself with my blanket, and quietly reposed until two o’clock in the morning, when I awoke, carefully got up, shouldered my pack and left this hospitable mansion. Being finely refreshed and feeling new vigor, I travelled on easily till the sun was up a short distance; when coming to a house, found a white woman and her daughter. I called for breakfast, and was well supplied with bread, meat, tea, &c., and some to carry with me on my journey. From the hospitable treatment I had received at the two last houses, I began to think that the worst of my journey was over, and at eight o’clock I proceeded on about two miles, when I met three squaws with large packs, who appeared to be in great haste, and took no notice of me; which gave me reason to suspect some trouble ahead. One or two miles further on heard a whooping and yelling, and presently saw an Indian running to meet me. He walked very fast, bare foot and barelegged, without any clothes but his shirt, and that very bloody, looking as though he had been engaged in some severe conflict. When he came up he seized me by the shoulder and held me fast, and kept his continual whooping and yelling, which almost stunned me. He was very drunk, and kept reeling backward and forward, which occasioned me to do the same, as his nervous arm made such a grip on my shoulder it was impossible for me to extricate myself. Sometimes he would bear me to the ground, and most of his weight would be upon me. Trying to give signs that I was sick, he laughed; I then called him bobashela, which is their word for brother; this pleased him, and having a bottle of whiskey in his other hand, he put it to my mouth saying good. I opened my mouth, and he thrust the neck of the bottle seemingly down my throat, the whiskey ran out, and strangled me badly, and [42] when I sat to coughing and choking, he burst out into a loud laugh and let go of my shoulders. He was a stout, tall man, had a long knife by his side, and put his hand several times on it, but exhibited no appearance of injuring me; yet, from his drunken situation, I thought I had considerable to fear. I repeated the word brother several times, when he looked sharp at me a few moments, and uttering a loud scream, left me to pursue my way, happy that the word bobashela had been my protection. About half an hour after this, coming round a large bend in the road, I saw twenty or thirty Indians, men, squaws and papooses, all formed in a circle. On coming up with them, I endeavored to pass, but one caught me by my pack and pulled me partly into the ring; another pulled, and another, seemingly half a dozen pulling different ways, talking, laughing, whooping, and hallooing, and I in the midst, without means of defence or chance of escape. I endeavored to make signs of sickness, but to no effect; soon a tall, old Indian stepped up and spoke to them; they all let go of me. I turned to this Indian and made signs of sickness, by putting my hand on my breast, &c., which he noticed, and seemingly with pity; he was the only sober one among them. They now began a second attack upon me; he spoke again and they left me. He now made a motion for me to go on, which I did, and having proceeded a few yards, I turned my head partly round and perceived a young Indian with a glass bottle in his hand just in the act of striking me on the head. I looked him full in the face; he lowered his bottle, and sitting partly down, laughed; he then returned to his comrades. I travelled on as fast as possible till I lost sight of them, when getting about half a mile, I came to a stream of water which crossed the road. It was narrow, and the current swift; a tree was fallen across, on the body of which I passed over. Stopping for a moment, I heard the yell of an Indian, and the footsteps of a horse in full speed; fearing it might be some of the gang I had just left, I stepped into the bushes and secreted myself behind a tree. In this situation I could see a person who passed without being discovered myself. Scarcely had I placed myself behind the tree when an Indian rode up to the stream on full speed with a [43] rifle on his shoulder; coming to the stream of water, his horse stopped and refused to proceed; he made several attempts to cross, but the horse refused, wheeling about and endeavoring to return. The Indian finding that he could not make the horse cross, sat still, looking up and down in every direction for a considerable time, when, perceiving no person, and not descrying the object of his pursuit, he wheeled about and returned. This was the same young Indian who pursued me with the bottle, and who, had he been fortunate enough to have discovered me, would immediately have ended my life with his rifle. After some time, I ventured out from behind the tree, and in great haste pursued my journey, often looking back, fearing that this or some other Indian might be in pursuit of me. I passed a number of cabins without stopping and without refreshment till after sunset, when I saw a squaw standing at a cabin door. I asked permission to stay. She made signs by holding up two fingers, that in two miles I should find a place to stop at. I went on—it soon became dark—I saw a bright light shining between the logs of a cabin. On going up to the door I saw a number of squaws sitting round the room silent, as though something serious had taken place. I made motions for staying all night, when one, who appeared to be head of the number, shook her head and pointed to another room, there being two rooms under this roof. I immediately heard surly noises and clashing of knives, the squaw appeared very anxious, and shaking her head, made signs for me to be off. I hesitated for a moment, but soon found that the room was filled with drunken Indians, which occasioned me to wait for no further invitation to depart. The squaws all looking earnestly at each other convinced me of my danger, and I stepped nimbly to the door and proceeded on. Walking about half a mile, I came to a low swampy piece of ground, and it being extremely dark, I could not tell what direction to take; and being much fatigued with travelling, and faint for want of food, having taken nothing through the day, I sat down on an old stump in mud almost knee deep, and should have fallen asleep had it not been for the fear of chilling to death, or being massacred by the Indians, which I certainly should if they had happened to have come that way. After ruminating for some time [44] on my perilous situation, I faintly rose up, travelled on perhaps for a mile, when fortunately I saw another light, and following it came up to another cabin. I knocked, and an old Indian opened the door. I stepped in—made signs to stay all night—he shook his head, pointed to the cabin I had just left, and said, Indian, whiskey, making motions that the Indians that belonged there would soon be at home, and I should be in danger should they return and find me at their cabin. This signified nothing to me, as I was totally unable to proceed any further. I therefore threw down my bundle, and this poor old Indian expressed great friendship and fear for my safety. He threw down some deerskins which they used for beds, and I laid down with my bundle under my head, without removing any of my clothing. I had a wish to keep awake, but it was impossible, and I soon fell asleep; so much was I overcome with fatigue and fasting. I awoke in about two hours; found this old friend sitting up as if to guard me; we looked at each other wistfully, and in a few minutes I fell asleep again. About two hours before daylight, the Indian pulling me by the arm, awoke me, when at a little distance from the cabin I heard Indians whooping, bells rattling, and horses in considerable numbers coming with the utmost rapidity and haste. This was a horrid sound at this dead hour of the night, when all before had been silent. I jumped up as quick as possible, and the old Indian handing me my bundle, stepped to the door and was just opening it, when they approached so near I stepped back, and both stood trembling with fear. Fortunately for us they passed by, nor was it long from our hearing them on one side before they had passed out of hearing on the other. On opening the door, it was so extremely dark, I could perceive no object; I went back and sat down before the fire on a block, not wishing to sleep any more; while the poor Indian walked back and forth in the cabin. Within one hour the same noise of whooping, yelling, horses running, &c., was heard. I caught my bundle, slipped out at the door, walked hastily about fifty yards, stepped into the bushes and sat down. In a few moments four or five Indians rode up to the door and dismounted. When I had seen the last of them go in and close the door, I ventured on my old track again; not without listening [45] attentively at the least noise, fearing they might be in pursuit of me. Travelling on as fast as my trembling limbs would permit, until nearly sunrise, I saw a large log house on the right hand side of the way, and hoped to find some friendly aid at this place; but on arriving near the place, I observed on the left hand side, a number of large trees fallen and burnt, except the bodies and large limbs; among these were ten or twelve Indians, some sitting but most of them lying down, being intoxicated. These wretched creatures had been using their knives upon each other till their heads and arms were completely mangled, and were covered with blood from head to foot. This, with the addition of crock from the burnt trees, caused them to exhibit a scene of horror which I cannot describe. I passed them without even turning my head, leaving them to suppose I did not notice them. It now began to rain very hard; I travelled on till about nine o’clock, when I saw a hut ahead, and coming within about three hundred yards, three white men came out to meet me. When we met they appeared very glad to see me, as they had heard of me several times before. I learned that they were from Natchez, and bound to the state of Indiana, on the same road I was travelling, and would keep me company through the remaining part of this wilderness. It is probable these two men passed me two days before, while I was at my friend’s the Indian chief.

The landlord here was a white man who had married a squaw, which enabled him to reside in peace among them. I conversed with him respecting his happy situation; of the plenty of every comfort of life that appeared around him, free from the noise and bustle of cities and other populous places, money constantly coming in, with little or no expenditure, &c., &c. He made some reply; the tears started in his eyes, and the discourse dropped. We tarried here until the next forenoon, in which time I washed and dried my clothes, procured provisions of our landlord, and made preparations for our departure. We left this abode of plenty, after a stay of twenty-four hours, being finely refreshed with the abundance of everything which is necessary for the support of man. Nothing extraordinary happened to us on the way; the Indians appeared [46] friendly, and provisions generally procured with ease, and thus we passed on till we arrived on the banks of the Tennessee river, at a house kept by an Indian by the name of Tallbot. This man was said to be very rich, in land, cattle and negro slaves, and also to have large sums of money in the bank. He had but one daughter, and I was told that many white men had attempted to gain this prize. But the old man suspecting their affections to be placed on the money rather than the daughter, advised her to remain single a little longer.

It has often been remarked, and I believe truly, of the Chickasaw and Choctaw Indians,[^[23]] that they are very hospitable to the white people who traverse their country; and I have never heard of a life being taken or an insult given, when they were free from ardent spirits; but like all other Indians, when intoxicated they are savage, cruel and fearless. But even then, they oftenest take revenge on their own countrymen, relatives and friends, who happen to offend them. Before they enter on any business of importance, such as agriculture, or a hunting or fishing expedition, they despatch several of their men to a considerable distance, to procure a quantity of ardent spirits. This is brought on horses, in kegs of their own manufacturing, and carried to such places as they appoint, where it is deposited until the time appointed for their meeting arrives. And it is remarkable that although their thirst for rum is so great, yet this deposite is entirely safe, right in the sight of every one, and no fears are entertained of its being meddled with until the time appointed. When this time arrives they assemble and commence their operations; singing, dancing, drinking, &c. They always select one or more to keep sober, who sit quietly by themselves, watching the rest, and who taste not a drop themselves till the frolic is over, even if it should continue three or four days and nights, as it sometimes does, but which time it seldom or never exceeds. This being over, the Indian or Indians who have performed this duty take their turn, and in the same way take their fill, without interruption.

Crimes committed in a state of intoxication are generally forgiven, not even excepting murder; but if otherwise committed they are punished with the greatest severity. [47] Their barbarous customs, however, are fast wearing away, since our missionaries, schoolmasters, &c., are sent among them.

They seem to have some sense of religious worship, as at several times, when passing their cabins, I have seen them sitting or kneeling in different postures, at which time they will remain fixed in their position without even turning their heads, let what will come. This ceremony they perform after losing a near relative, but how long they continue in this posture I know not. Once or twice I saw four poles stuck in the ground, with forked ends up, and sticks laid across at little distances, on which was a large roll of bark. On inquiry I was told that in this bark was the remains of a deceased person, who, after remaining there the accustomed time, would be taken down and buried.

They are very affectionate to each other, especially to their children, whom they treat with great kindness and attention. We arrived at Mr. Tallbot’s late in the evening, and tarried there till next morning, when we crossed the river, about one mile, and landed in the state of Tennessee. This gave us fresh hopes of finishing our journey among civilized people. We travelled about nine miles, and came to a house where we changed our clothes and refreshed ourselves. I disposed of my blanket, cooking utensils, &c., which I had prepared for my journey through the wilderness, and moved on with a small bundle in my hand, which enabled me to travel very easily, being freed from my former load. I kept company with my companions two days, when they were to leave my road. We bade each other farewell, and I was once more left alone. I pursued on, and came to a village where was a large three story brick tavern; they appeared like New-England people. Thinking I should here find what I had long been wishing for, salt provision, I waited till dinner was ready, and to my joy I saw a large dish of salt beef and vegetables placed on the table. In company with a number of gentlemen, I sat down and feasted my appetite till the last man rose from the table. Although I had eaten twice or three times the quantity of food I had been accustomed to, yet I was not satisfied; and at supper I renewed my hold on the salt [48] beef, to the neglect of pies, cakes, &c. I went to bed fully satisfied, but awoke about midnight in most distressing pain, and almost famishing with thirst. I got up, went down stairs in search of some person, but could find none. I then opened the outside door, and the rain was pouring down in torrents. I saw an old tub standing under the eaves, full of water. I ventured out, put my mouth to the tub and drank several times; I then waited a few minutes, drank again, and went in. All this did not satisfy my thirst; but as I was very wet, being but partly dressed, I went to my bed, shivering with cold, and after getting a little warm, fell asleep. I awoke in about two hours, in much the same situation as at first, went to the old tub again, and drank with the same eagerness. I then went back to my bed scarcely able to crawl, and passed the remainder of the night in a sleepless and distressed condition. Early in the morning, hearing some of the family up, I went down, sat by the fire, and seemed to myself but little more than alive. Breakfast being called, I had no appetite, and waiting till eleven o’clock I sat out on my way, and pursued on as well as I could till about sunset, when I had gained eight miles, and came to a planter’s house, who invited me to stay with him all night, which invitation I accepted. But nothing could I eat till the next day, and continued travelling in this situation four or five days, when my appetite began to return, and I recovered my strength fast, so that in a few days I was able to travel my usual distance. Passing through a number of fine villages and towns, the largest of which was Nashville, I arrived at Lexington,[^[24]] Kentucky, where I found people very friendly, and willing to assist the weary traveller on all occasions. From thence I pursued on my course till I arrived at the Ohio river, and crossed over into Cincinnati, in the afternoon of the forty-seventh day from my leaving New-Orleans; having performed a journey of one thousand miles only. The next morning I walked out in the streets, and met one of my first companions with whom I started from New-Orleans. He lived a few miles above, on the Kentucky side of the river. He informed me he had been at home twenty-two days, and told me that the third day after we parted another man stopped, and the fifth day [49] two more, and before he was three fourths of the way through his journey, there was only himself and one other left. Some from being lame, and others sick, and what has become of them, said he, I know not; you are the only one I have seen or heard from.

I remained at this place a few days, and then went out about ten miles to a town called Madison.[^[25]] It being now the month of April, and fearing my old complaint, the fever and ague, I resolved to quit the Ohio river, and go out to Detroit in the Michigan territory. A gentleman from that place was soon expected here for his family, who at this time resided in this neighborhood. The lady hearing of my determination, called on me, and wished me to stay there till her husband’s return, and then accompany them to Detroit. This was a pleasant thing to me as I was wholly unacquainted with the road through that country. The gentleman did not return until the first of August, when he arrived with a waggon and horses, and after suitable preparations were made, he took his wife and children with some light baggage, and we commenced our journey.

We found the roads very rough for about eighty miles, when we came on to the prairie grounds. We had laid in a good stock of provisions, knowing that in consequence of the late war the country was nearly drained. We now came to where the water was very bad, the country being flat and the water stagnant. After straining it would still exhibit live insects, which they call wiggles. The inhabitants were few and scattering, but the soil remarkably good, the grass growing five or six feet high, interspersed with flowers of all colors, which gave it a delightful appearance. It is thought by many that this part of the country was once overflown with water, and what adds to the probability is the number of little hills or rises of land, covered with trees, standing in these prairie grounds, like so many islands, as probably they once were. Great numbers of cattle are drove from Kentucky and elsewhere to feed on these grounds, and soon become very fat. We camped out two nights, and by forming tents with blankets made ourselves very comfortable, and slept without any apprehension, except from the prairie rattlesnake, a small but very poisonous reptile, [50] frequently to be seen in those parts. After a slow but safe journey, we arrived at Lower Sandusky,[^[26]] two hundred miles on our way. Here we sent our horses on by the mail carrier, went on board of a vessel at the foot of the Sandusky Rapids, so called, and went down the Sandusky river to the Lower Sandusky bay, to a small town called Venice.[^[27]] At this place but two years before, not a tree had been fallen; now, between twenty and thirty log houses are built, two large framed store houses, and two wharves for the accommodation of the back country traders. Vessels of considerable size come up lake Erie and deposite their loading here, being but six miles from the lake. The next day after our arrival, president Monroe, with a number of distinguished officers, stopped here, on his tour through the Western country.[^[28]] We stayed here two days, when we hired a man to carry us across the lake in a boat. We laid in but a small quantity of provision as the distance was but seventy miles, and with a fair wind could run it in less than a day. We set sail at noon with a fair breeze, and ran up the lake about twenty miles, keeping near the shore. About an hour before sunset it became calm, and not wishing to be exposed on the open lake in the night, we ran into a creek a short distance and made our boat fast to a stake, which had been set there by some one before us. We found there another boat with two men encamped on a pleasant beach. The gentleman with his family and pilot went on shore and encamped also. I chose to remain on board. They formed now a considerable company, four men, one woman and three children. They built up a large fire, got supper, prepared camps for the night, and laid down in quietude, expecting a quiet night’s rest. But the clouds gathered up fast, and between eight and nine o’clock the wind blew violently, and they gathered up their blankets and clothing and tried to get on board the boat, but she lay so far from shore that with all my assistance they could not accomplish their object. The fire had all blown away and not a spark left. The night was dark, and the rain poured down in torrents; there was no shelter, not even a tree to defend them from the tempest. The three men took each of them a child, wrapped it in a blanket, [51] and sat down upon such clothing or bedding as came nearest to hand. The other man and the woman were obliged to sit without anything but their clothing. I often called to them from the boat, but the howling of the tempest prevented me from being heard. In this situation they all remained about eight hours till daylight, when it ceased to rain, but the wind continued to blow very hard. I then moved the stern of the boat round and got on shore; but the sight of these weather-beaten objects presented a spectacle I cannot describe. The children, however, had been kept considerably comfortable through the night. The woman acknowledged she was alive, and that was all that could be said of her; the men appeared much better than I should have supposed. As for myself, I was comfortably situated, and should have slept well had it not been for the anxiety I felt for my unhappy fellow-travellers on shore. The lake now appeared more like the Atlantic than like an inland navigation, the waves running so high that it was impossible for us to venture out; and the high grass and a few bushes at a little distance promising some assistance in sheltering us from the storm, we evacuated the old post and retired to them for shelter, where with the help of our blankets and other things we contrived so to break the wind as to enable us to kindle up a fire sufficient to warm and dry ourselves. We then prepared the remainder of our scanty food, which was sufficient for a meal after reserving a part of it for the woman and her children. We remained here through the day and night, the wind still blowing a gale. The next morning very early, three men went in search of provisions, and did not return till three o’clock in the afternoon. They had travelled all that time and found but one house, where they obtained three small loaves of bread, which were enough for the woman and children only. The wind had now ceased to blow, and the lake was nearly smooth; and after feeding the children we put our things on board, and made up the lake shore. At sunset judging ourselves about thirty miles from Detroit, we ventured out on the open lake with our oars only to move us ahead; we rowed all night, and at daylight discovered the town of Malden[^[29]] about six miles directly ahead, on the [52] Canada shore; and a little breeze springing up, we hoisted sail, and a little after sunrise landed half a mile below the town. We went up, found a market, purchased fresh beef, bread, &c., and had a fine breakfast; it having been forty-eight hours since we had eaten any thing before. We now had eighteen miles to stem a strong current with our oars only, before reaching Detroit. At ten o’clock we moved on, and after having labored hard till two o’clock in the morning, we made up to the city of Detroit,[^[30]] and went to a tavern, the landlord of which had formerly been an acquaintance of ours. He, by some means or other, had heard of our being on the lake in the blow I have mentioned; himself and several others manned a vessel and went in pursuit of us; but after making every possible search in vain, he returned, supposing we must have been lost; but was most agreeably surprised when he saw us under his own roof.

I remained here a few days, and then embarked on board a vessel, and went down the lake in search of the property I had left in the neighborhood of Fort Erie, Upper Canada, at the commencement of the late war, as I have before mentioned. I arrived at Buffalo, and inquired for the two gentlemen with whom I had left my business, and found they were both dead. I then crossed over the river, and went to my old friend’s house, and to my surprise found he was dead also. His unhappy widow informed me that soon after my departure he was arrested by order of the British government, and committed to prison, which was the last account she had of him; but supposed that he made his escape, and either fell into the hands of the Indians, or that in attempting to cross the lake was drowned. The person who last had charge of my property was an American born, but had become a British subject; he took an active part in the late war against his own countrymen, and still persisted in so doing; and totally refused to pay my demand. The persons with whom I conversed on the subject, advised me to let it remain as it was; observing that although the two governments were now at peace, yet a personal envy still existed between individuals of the two nations, if not between the governments; and as [53] the Court of King’s Bench was now closing its session, and would not sit again until a year from that time, there could be no action tried for a long time. This discouraged me and I gave it up, purchased a horse, saddle and bridle, and returned by land through this Upper Province to Detroit. On my journey back to Detroit, I was most sensibly struck with the devastations which had been made by the late war: beautiful farms, formerly in high cultivation, now laid waste; houses entirely evacuated and forsaken; provision of all kinds very scarce; and where once peace and plenty abounded, poverty and destruction now stalked over the land. I returned to Detroit, where I remained the most of my time till the fall of eighteen hundred and eighteen; when not yet satisfied with roving about, I started, in November, in company with another man, for the central part of Ohio. The roads at this season of the year were very bad through the Michigan Territory, which we were now travelling. We passed over the battle ground of Frenchtown and river Raison;[^[31]] to the river forty miles; thence to Maumee rapids, forty miles; our nearest way now to go to Sandusky river was thirty-five miles. On this last route we had no road; the only guide for the traveller was marked trees.[^[32]] The first morning missed our way, got lost in the wilderness, and wandered about till three o’clock in the afternoon, when we came to the old marked trees; we walked on until sunset, when we were obliged to halt; struck up a fire, broiled some pork, on the end of a stick, and with some bread refreshed ourselves; but without drink, as there was no water fit for use. We laid ourselves down by the body of an old tree, and partly got to sleep, but were aroused from our slumbers by the horrid howling of a wolf, who had walked up close to our backs. My companion was in great fear, and would have run had I not stated to him the danger of leaving the fire. He stopped, jumped up and down, hallooing with all his might. Not being much acquainted with these animals, he considered his situation very dangerous. After some time I persuaded him to lie down again, but it was not long before the sound redoubled on our ears; his fears became greater than before, as he found there was no retreat. I laid down myself, [54] but could not possibly persuade him and he remained in motion, and sometimes with yells which almost equalled the wolves, through the night. Early in the morning we collected our things and moved on; about nine o’clock came to a running stream of water; this was a delicious treat to us, although I drank heartily several times before I could taste in the least, my mouth had become so exceedingly dry. We now began to think we had lost our way, but pursued on the same course till we came to a log house, where we found a very friendly man who kept a house of entertainment. We got some refreshment, and gave him an account of our travel. He said it was a common thing for travellers to get lost on that way, and informed us that we had gained but fifteen miles. Just as he was saying this, a large wolf came up close to the door, but seeing us, ran furiously into the woods; this, probably, was our visitor the last night. On inquiry we found the distance to the next house seventeen miles. At eleven o’clock we started, determined to see the end of the woods that day; and after blundering over stumps and rocks, and through mud till ten o’clock at night, we arrived at the village of Lower Sandusky. Here I left my fellow-traveller, and travelled on to the town of Greenville.[^[33]] I tarried there till Spring, and from thence went to a village called Portland, on Lower Sandusky bay, where I arrived in April, 1819, fully satisfied with roving.[^[34]]

Here I found a pleasant village containing about twenty-five houses, besides two taverns, three large stores and store houses, and three wharves of a considerable length; the water being of a sufficient depth for vessels to come up and discharge their cargoes. The steamboat stops here on her passage, and leaves many passengers, taking in others, &c. The land in and about this village is owned by two men from Connecticut, who calculated, probably, on a large town or city, but it has not answered their expectations, people finding the place very unhealthy, owing to the badness of the water. The unhealthiness of the place, however, continues only from about the middle of July through the fall months; the remaining part of the year is considered healthy. In the month of March, wishing to go on to Cunningham’s [55] Island[^[35]] with another man, we took a canoe, and getting three others to assist us, we made a rope fast to the bow of the canoe, and drew it across the bay two miles, which was frozen over, to the lake which was not frozen. When we were about half way across, one man on one side of the canoe and myself on the other, both fell in, the ice breaking under us; but being one on each side, we balanced the canoe and kept our heads out of water until the other men broke the thin ice and drew the canoe partly up on to that which was solid, and we crawled up, and thus escaped a watery grave. We then went on, and reached the other shore. It being late in the afternoon, our friends left us and returned. The beach here was clear of snow and ice. We turned our boat up on one side so that it might make a partial shelter for us during the night, and built a fire in front. We then walked across the neck of land to the other side, saw the lake clear of ice except a few floating pieces. Our object in crossing the bay that afternoon was, that we might be ready to start on the lake early in the morning, when there is generally but little wind, it being then easier and safer, the water being smooth. We then returned back to our boat, rekindled our fire, took our supper, dried my clothes as well as I could, and camped for the night. But soon the wind began to blow, and the snow fell very fast; within two hours it blew a heavy gale; our fire was blown away, the boat fell over, and our only course was to run back and forth upon the beach to prevent our perishing in the storm, which sometimes appeared impossible for me to do. At length, to our great joy, the morning came, the wind ceased, and the snow abated. The ice, which we crossed in the afternoon, was broken up and driven into heaps, with the addition of what had driven from the lake, and all up and down the lake shore presented the same dreary appearance. We were now hemmed in on all sides, and it was impossible to cross either with a boat or on foot, and our only resource was, to prepare a camp in the woods, which we did by cutting down trees and bushes, sticking the ends into the ground which was not frozen, and forming the tops together over our heads. We thus made us a comfortable cabin, built a large fire, ate our [56] breakfast, and dried our clothes. We here remained seven days, when all our provision had become exhausted, except some dry beans; these boiled in water were made to supply the place of every other necessary; and although we were compelled to acknowledge the flavor was not quite so good, yet we were thankful that we had this means of preserving ourselves from complete starvation. We were now in sight of the village, and kept a large fire burning in the night to satisfy the people that we were alive. During the day we were constantly watching for the separation of the ice, so that we might pass; and on the seventh day, in the afternoon, we thought we might accomplish our retreat. Accordingly we put our boat into the water, and our things on board, and with a pole pushing the ice from the boat, we made our way along for some distance, when we saw a boat coming in the same manner to meet us. Coming up with her, found it to be the same men who crossed the bay with us on the ice, and who had come to relieve us. They turned their boat about, and we all arrived safely home the same evening without accomplishing our visit to Cunningham’s Island.

The inhabitants of the village remained very healthy until July, when a new complaint of the eyes became epidemic among them. It attacked all ages and sexes without distinction, and, with some, would, in a few days, cause total blindness.

This complaint is, I believe, what physicians call the Egyptian Opthalmia.[^[36]] Some, who were very prompt in their applications, were fortunate enough to recover their sight after a considerable time; and others, not made wholly blind, never saw so well as before. Many of the inhabitants were attacked with fever and ague, and these generally escaped the more formidable disease of the eyes.

As for myself, I remained perfectly well until November, when, one morning, my right eye was attacked with inflammation and swelling; and the next morning my left eye was attacked in the same manner. The inflammation gradually increased, so that in about three weeks I was totally blind. My surgeon, a very skilful man, made every exertion for my recovery, and about the middle [57] of December I could discern light; and in ten or twelve days after, could distinguish colors. My surgeon now being called into another section of the country, was absent about three weeks, when, from the want of proper assistance, I grew worse, and was again in total darkness. On his return, using every means in his power, I was so far restored in a few weeks as to be able to discern light; and continuing very slowly to gain until the first of April. I could then see to distinguish capital letters.

A neighboring physician then calling in, advised my old surgeon to make a new application, which he did, and to the expense of the total loss of my sight. I now almost gave up all hopes of recovery; but not willing wholly to despair, attempts were once more made; and by the middle of August I could once more discern colors. Hearing much said of the eye infirmary in the city of New-York, I resolved to visit that place; and on the thirteenth of August, 1821, went on board a steamboat, proceeded down the lake two hundred and fifty miles to Buffalo; thence in a waggon one hundred and six miles to Geneva;[^[37]] then went on board a boat down the Seneca Lake, crossed the Cayuga Lake into the Erie canal,[^[38]] thence to Utica, where I took the stage for Albany. After travelling about forty-five miles, was attacked with fever and ague, and was obliged to stop three days; then went on board a boat down the Mohawk river to Schenectady,[^[39]] then in a waggon to Albany, where I tarried three weeks, and then went on board a packet to New-York, where I arrived the first day of October. I stayed here five days, called at the infirmary several times, and conversed with different patients who had been there for a considerable time; they discouraged me by saying they had found little or no relief, and thought there were no hopes for me; at the same time adding, that if I would go to Boston, I might do much better. I considered the thing well, took their advice, was assisted out on the turnpike, where on foot and alone I proceeded on through New Haven, Hartford and Worcester, and without difficulty found the way to Concord, Massachusetts, where I arrived on the twentieth of October, after an absence of six years. Some time after [58] this I applied to several of the most eminent physicians and surgeons in Boston, and finally went into the General Hospital in that place, where I underwent various medical and surgical treatment to no effect; and giving up all hope of ever enjoying that light which the benevolent Creator has ordained for the happiness and comfort of man, I have hitherto spent my time comfortably, destitute of property, in the company and society of my friends.

Evans’s Pedestrious Tour of Four Thousand Miles—1818

Reprint of the original edition: Concord, New-Hampshire, 1819

DISTRICT OF NEW-HAMPSHIRE, TO WIT:

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 10th day of December, 1818, and in the forty-third year of the Independence of the United States of America, ESTWICK EVANS, of the said District, has deposited in this Office the title of a Book, the right whereof he claims as Author, in the words following, TO WIT:

“A Pedestrious Tour of Four Thousand miles, through the western States and Territories, during the winter and spring of 1818; interspersed with brief reflections upon a great variety of topics: religious, moral, political, sentimental, &c. &c. By ESTWICK EVANS.

“The blast of the north is on the plain; the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.”

In conformity to an act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, “An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies,” during the times therein mentioned: and also to an act entitled “An Act supplementary to An Act,” entitled an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned; and extending the benefits thereof to the Arts of Designing, Engraving, and Etching Historical and other Prints.

PEYTON R. FREEMAN,

Clerk, of the District of New-Hampshire.

DISTRICT OF NEW-HAMPSHIRE, TO WIT:

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 18th day of January, 1819, and in the forty-third year of the Independence of the United States of America, ESTWICK EVANS, of the said District, hath deposited in this Office the title of a Book, the right whereof he claims as Author, in the words following, TO WIT:

“A Pedestrious Tour of Four Thousand miles, through the western States and Territories, during the winter and spring of 1818; interspersed with brief reflections upon a great variety of topics: religious, moral, political, sentimental, &c. &c. By ESTWICK EVANS.

“The blast of the north is on the plain; the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.”

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, “An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies,” during the times therein mentioned.

PEYTON R. FREEMAN,

Clerk, of the District of New-Hampshire.

A true copy of Record,

Attest, Peyton R. Freeman, Clerk.

The author is sensible that there are some typographical and other errors in the following work; but as they will be found few and inconsiderable, it is not deemed worth while to notice them.

PREFACE

An author, however inconsiderable he may be, always feels that he has something to say to the public concerning his work; he must, therefore, have a preface. I think, however, that such a course is seldom necessary; the world, after all which the writer can express, will judge impartially of his motives, and of the execution of his plan.—My introduction will be very brief.

In justice to myself I ought to observe, that until after finishing my tour, I did not entertain the least idea of publishing an account of it; and that I have been induced to take this step by the request of many of my fellow-citizens.

It will be readily perceived, that a work of this kind does not admit of the display of much reasoning or erudition; and I shall speak as little of myself as will be consistent with the nature of the publication. This little volume cannot possibly merit much praise; and I trust that it will escape unqualified censure.

Portsmouth, N. H. 1818.

TOUR

The supposed singularity of the tour, an account of which I am about to write, suggests a few preliminary observations.

Customs and manners often produce more influence than principle. Whilst the former are strictly adhered to, the latter is often violated. Here we see the comparative influence of self-reproach and the reproach of the world: a deviation from custom, in relation to modes of living and acting, may excite animadversion. We shrink from the unfriendly gaze of the multitude; and tremble even at the undeserved censure of the superficial and ill-natured:—at the same time we disregard the condemnation of our own hearts, and endeavour to cancel the obligations of morality by the good, yet false, opinion of the world.

But it is readily acknowledged, that unless excentricity ought always to be avoided; it invariably proceeds from error in taste, from uncontrouled feeling, or from mental imbecility. The dispositions and powers of men, however, are various; and the beaten track is not always the field for improvement.

Civil society is not without its disadvantages. Whilst it adds to the information, and polishes the manners of man, it lessens the vigour of his mind and the generosity of his heart. He no longer experiences the sublime inspirations of Nature. A creature of habit and the slave of form, she will not [6] deign to visit him. From the factitious grandeur of cities, she wings her eagle flight, to communicate to the uncontaminated children of her forests her instruction and blessing.

In the savage state there is, no doubt, much individual depravity; as great a degree of it, however, may be found in the most civilized communities. But in the latter are never witnessed that nobleness of spirit, that eloquence of thought, that force of expression, and that wonderful aspect which the former affords.

It is true, that the aggregate advantages of civil society are much greater than those of a state of nature; and how happy should we be if we could ingraft the instruction, and impress the polish of civilization upon the lofty virtues of untutored life. But, with us, courage gives place to cowardice; and the native disinterestedness of man, the source of his greatest virtues and highest happiness, yields to the calculations of meanness and fraud. Even in public life we please ourselves with the tinsel of narrow views, whilst we disregard those great principles of national policy which alone can render us truly great.

I have often been questioned as to the objects of my tour; and I am willing to gratify a reasonable and friendly curiosity. My views were various. Besides the ordinary advantages of travel, and of becoming acquainted with a country comparatively but little known, I wished to acquire the simplicity, native feelings, and virtues of savage life; to divest myself of the factitious habits, prejudices and imperfections of civilization; to become a citizen of the world; and to find, amidst the solitude and grandeur of the western wilds, more correct views of human nature and of the true interests of man. The season of snows was preferred, that I might experience the pleasure of suffering, and the novelty of danger. [7] On the second of February, 1818, I left the residence of my friends, in Hopkinton, New-Hampshire, prepared, according to the frontispiece, to meet the inclemency of the season, the hostilities either of man or beast, and also to provide myself, in the way of game, with provisions.

It may gratify some to know the particulars of my habiliment: Mine was a close dress consisting of buffalo skins. On my shoulders were epaulettes made of the long hair of the animal; and they were for the purpose of shielding the shoulder from rain. Around my neck and under one arm was strapped a double leather case, with brass chargers, for shot and ball; and under the other arm a case for powder strapped in the same way, and also having a brass charger. Around the waist was a belt, with a brace of pistols, a dirk, two side cases for pistol balls, and a case for moulds and screw. Also around the waist was buckled an Indian apron, which fell behind: it was about eighteen inches square, covered with fine bear skin, trimmed with fur, and having over the lower part of it a net for game. This apron contained a pocket compass, maps, journal, shaving materials, a small hatchet, patent fire works, &c. My cap and gloves were made of fur, my moccasons were of deerskin, and on my shoulder I carried a six feet rifle. The partners of my toils and dangers were two faithful dogs.

In this situation I arrived at Detroit on the 20th of March. My dogs, however, were destroyed by wolves, on the night of the tenth of that month, in the vicinity of the Miami Swamp.

I had, in my juvenile days, voluntarily accustomed myself to fatigues, hardships, and privations of every kind; but not having recently exercised much, the snow being deep, and my dress and baggage heavy, my fatigue, in the early stages of my tour, [8] was excessive: My first day’s travel was only eight miles. In a short time, however, my daily progress was from fifteen to twenty miles, through trackless snows and over tremendous mountains. The universal curiosity which my appearance excited was oppressive; but I had fortified my mind by reflection, and endeavoured to present to all an aspect at once grave and mild. In the course of my tour, I met, as might have been expected, a great variety of character; from the savage of the wood to the savage of civil life; and I sometimes found it necessary to appeal to my arms, for the defence of the privileges of the traveller and the rights of the man.

My title-page promises reflections upon various subjects. I hope they will neither be too frequent nor too lengthy. The study of man, both as it respects the abstract principles of his nature and the almost infinite variety of modes in which these principles, through the influences of education and customs, develope themselves, should be one great object of the traveller. In order to become well acquainted with these principles, he must frequently and maturely examine his own heart. Here alone can he ascertain the secret springs of action; here alone can he define and classify the passions; and lastly, here alone can he find the means of their controul, or of giving to them a proper direction. Much information, in relation to this subject, may be collected from books, and much by travel; but he who is ignorant of his own heart must be ignorant of human nature.

In my way to the interior I passed through Amherst;[^[40]] and reached this place towards evening, during a heavy fall of snow. I had been anticipating the pleasure of visiting the family of Judge C. who reside there; but the ladies of the family, supposing me to be an indian, barred the doors against me. I [9] soon, however, obtained a herald, and then the castle gates were elegantly thrown open. On account of this little adventure, which arose principally from the lateness of the afternoon and from my being covered with snow, some captious scribblers took the liberty, in the papers of the day, to be impudent. Could I condescend to be offended with them, I should here tender my forgiveness.

For the above anecdote I am indebted, principally, to the interesting Miss L******, whose vivid imagination, aided by the story of the giants, magically converted her habitation into an embattled tower, and gave to a harmless knight a consequence which he did not deserve.

Amherst is a considerable inland town. The plain upon which the village is situated is very spacious; and some of its buildings are large and elegant.

From this place I proceeded to Milford,[^[41]] the residence of my friend P. whose love of principle, independence of character, and talents, entitle him to much consideration. With him I passed some pleasant hours. The appearance of this town is pleasant. The contrast between its extensive intervales, and the rise of ground upon which its bridge, manufactories, and village are situated, renders its aspect quite interesting.

The distance between Amherst and Milford is only a few miles; but in travelling from the former to the latter I found the snow deep and stiffened by rain, and the road trackless.

The next day I began to ascend the mountains of New-Hampshire:—my native hills!—Oh, may they be the everlasting abode of Liberty! The weather here was variable, the snow in some drifts ten feet deep, my fatigue extreme, and my health impaired. The towns of Milton and Temple,[^[42]] [10] situated in this part of the country, are pleasant; and the scenery about them highly picturesque. Several branches of the Sowhegan in the former, and the streams which pass into this river from the westerly part of the latter, add much to the variety and beauty of the prospect.

The next evening I found myself in Marlborough. The weather had become severe, and my ability to travel without fatigue was increasing. The mountainous aspect of the country, the front of my cap, &c. whitened by frost, and the creaking of the snow beneath my step, reminded me of Wallace and Tell; those champions of freedom, whose physical nature was as rugged as the rocks which they inhabited, and whose hearts, at the same time, could glow with generosity, or soften with compassion. The Grand Monadnock here attracted particular attention. It is more than two thousand feet in height, and is remarkable for its cave and its fossils. Peterborough and Dublin, the towns between Temple and Marlborough, are interestingly situated. The former is very mountainous, and its numerous brooks render it a fine grazing township. A principal branch of the Contoocook passes near the centre of the town, and here unites with Goose river flowing from Dublin. The latter place is exceedingly well watered, and its two villages, together with some scattered houses, make a pleasant appearance.

The coldness of the weather continued to increase. I passed on through Keene[^[43]] and Chesterfield. The appearance of the former excited much interest. It is almost an inland city; and promises to make a very conspicuous figure. It is also, evidently, a place of much business; and from the appearance of some of its buildings, together with what little knowledge I possess of its society, I should suppose [11] it a place of considerable polish and refinement. Chesterfield too is a very pretty town. The undulatory aspect of its hills, the quiet of its vales, and the neatness of its village made a very pleasant impression upon my mind.

Soon after leaving Keene I passed over high and steep hills. Some of them were, apparently, several miles in length. In one of the vallies of these mountains an amusing incident occurred. It is a trifle, and may be thought not worth mentioning; I feel a pleasure, however, in doing justice to good nature: I met three six feet fellows in a single sleigh. They were, probably, going to Keene in their best. There had fallen, the night before, a light snow of a few inches; and their horse, not fancying my appearance, took it into his head, notwithstanding I gave him the whole road, to sheer against the wall, and to turn all these well-looking grenadiers into the snow. I was preparing to make an apology; but it was unnecessary: the good nature of these liberal men furnished for them and myself a hearty laugh.

During the following day I passed Connecticut river; and entering Brattleborough, Vermont, proceeded to the further part of the adjoining town.[^[44]] The appearance of the country just before my crossing the Connecticut, was truly interesting. My course was around a mountain about half way between its summit and the river below. It was the sabbath day; and the mildness of the christian religion seemed to breathe around. The rays of the sun, with a kind of vivid obscurity, darted through the wood; and the solemn, yet cheerful, gospel bell of a neighbouring villa spake of the pure and peaceful communion of saints. Even the game seemed to know it was the sabbath, and did not shun my path. Perhaps it was wrong in me thus to travel. I had [12] never done so before. My situation, however, was peculiar, and I endeavored to confine my thoughts to the appropriate views of this holy season.

I am now upon the borders of my own peculiar country. A single step carries me from New-Hampshire; and when I shall again behold her pleasant hills is uncertain—Perhaps never!

The term banishment is, in this part of the world, seldom employed; and its introduction here may appear unmeaning. But those who have been exiled by their country, by misfortune, or by themselves, will hear the word with a glow of interest, and find, in their own hearts, its true and ready definition. Is there no exile beyond the limits of our land?—no spirit which sighs for the scenes of childhood?—where the light of Heaven was first beheld, and the impression of thought first created?—where friendship first warmed, and love etherialized, and patriotism fired? Oh! if prayer is heard on High, it must be the exile’s prayer.

The tears of patriotism need no apology. The name of New-Hampshire is identified with that of freedom. Her mountains were never intended for slavery; and tyrants, I know, could not exist in the presence of her people. Were she just to herself, she would always excite fear in her enemies and admiration in her friends. Her institutions are dictated by the spirit of self-government, and her will is the supreme law of the land. Her citizens are hardy, intelligent and virtuous; her climate is salubrious and her soil fertile; her hills are covered with cattle, and her vallies wave with grain. Industry, economy, and mechanical genius are conspicuous characteristics of her people; and a thousand streams, intersecting the whole country, tender to the manufacturing interest their powerful agencies. In point of hospitality too she [13] is second to none; and the virtue, benevolence, and beauty of her daughters are, at once, the inspiration and the reward of valour.

Within a few years I have visited nearly all the states and territories of United America. I have noticed their respective moral and physical character, and have viewed them in relation to the ordinary causes of the rise and fall of nations. Should the freedom of this country ever perish, one of her last intrenchments will be in the mountains of New-Hampshire. Her citizens, however, must, by adhering to her constitution, and by proper systems of education, preserve in their minds a knowledge of the first principles of civil liberty, a due sense of the importance of morality, and a lively interest in the transactions of the Revolution. The whole history of that great event should, with us, constitute an indispensable part of education. But in speaking much of its battles, we must think more of its principles. The latter were so perfectly correct; and the manner of acting upon them was so candid, so humane, so firm, so steady, and so persevering, that no political event, since the creation of man, merits half so much admiration as the achievement of our independence.

Before leaving New-Hampshire I may say a word respecting Connecticut river. It is one of the most pleasant and useful rivers in the world. It generally preserves a distance of from eighty to one hundred miles from the ocean, and meanders through a very fertile country to the distance of more than three hundred miles. It waters New-Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, and Connecticut, and at length passes into Long-Island Sound.

I am now in Vermont.[^[45]] This is a noble state, and may well be termed the peculiar sister of New-Hampshire. The same mountainous and fertile [14] country; the same moral and physical energies characterize them both. Should their liberties ever be assailed, they will sympathetically unite their efforts, and triumph or fall together. In both of these states I met with Revolutionary men, and they were still the champions of liberty. The tranquil charms of rural avocations had preserved the purity and peace of their bosoms; whilst the grandeur of their mountains, and the rudeness of their storms had continually reminded them of the blasts of tyranny, and of the unconquerable spirit of freedom.

In both of these states I experienced unlimited hospitality and kindness. Money could not have purchased so rich a boon. Amidst their lofty hills, covered with deep snows and assailed by piercing winds, I found the humble cottager; and in the benevolence of his aspect, and the hospitality of his board, I seemed to hear the chorus in Gustavus Vasa:—[^[46]]

“Stranger, cease through storms to roam;

Welcome to the cotter’s home;

Though no courtly pomp be here,

Yet, my welcome is sincere.”

In some parts of these states one may travel many miles without meeting a habitation; and during deep snows and severe weather there is no little danger of perishing.

In passing the Green Mountains, I experienced a very narrow escape. The weather was remarkably severe, and scarcely any one thought travelling practicable. The wind being high the snow was whirled in every direction, and the road was trackless. About 4 o’clock in the afternoon I passed a house, and, imprudently, omitted to inquire as to the distance to the next dwelling. Fortunately, [15] however, I met, after travelling three miles, an express from a neighbouring village; and he informed me that the next habitation was at the distance of two miles. To this circumstance I owe, probably, the preservation of my life.

About dark I arose a steep hill, and found myself in an open and uncovered situation. The weather was intensely cold, and the wind very high. I realized that owing to the depth of the snow, the consequent difficulty of obtaining fuel, and the probable chill which I should experience after ceasing to travel, that the wood, from which I had just emerged, could not afford me sufficient shelter. I should, however, have resorted to its partial protection in preference to exposing myself to an unsheltered opening, had I not fully presumed, from the information above noticed, that a habitation was near. There was not a moment for indecision. I marked a central course, redoubled my efforts, and in a half hour reached a comfortable hut. Here, upon taking off my cap, I found my ears frozen to an almost incredible degree.

It is high time for me to acknowledge some obligations, which have a particular claim to my gratitude, not only as it respects these stages of my tour, but throughout the whole of that part of it which was enlivened by civilization.

Benevolence and kindness are peculiar characteristics of the female heart. The mildness of her nature comports with the delicacy of her appearance; and well may Charity always be represented in feminine apparel. During my tour, the hospitality of the husband was always more than seconded by that of the wife and daughter.

Such are my respect for, and admiration of the female character; so high an opinion do I entertain both of her understanding and heart; and so narrow [16] are the views of many, even in this enlightened age, in relation to these particulars, that I may be permitted, in this little work, to become her advocate. A thousand arguments in her behalf challenge my attention; but I must not transgress the proper limits of incidental remark.

The influence of woman, in civilized life, has not yet reached its acme. The effects of her ancient condition are not entirely removed. Hereditary ignorance and oppression still partially obstruct her intellectual progress. She has, in times past, not only had to contend with an almost entire seclusion from the world, where alone theoretical and practical knowledge are blended for the improvement of the human mind, but the other sex, unconscious of moral force and influenced only by a sense of physical strength, have, in various parts of the globe, treated her as an inferior. Oh, wretched pride!—oh, disgraceful ignorance!—oh, vulgar barbarity!—the Dove of Paphos is oppressed by the Egyptian Vulture.

Even in Greece and Rome the state of woman, to speak generally, was degrading. She was suffered to share but little in the general intercourse of life; and Metellus Numidicus, in an oration to the people of Rome, speaks of her with contempt. Yet some exultingly inquire,—where are your female philosophers and poets of antiquity?

Greece and Rome were the principal theatres of ancient literature. Had the men of those times and countries been treated as the females were, we should have looked in vain for those galaxys of genius and erudition, which are the constant theme of the modern world. Had this been the case the Peripatetic Philosopher would not have written, the Mantuan Bard would not have sung. Yet, even here, Corinna was the instructress of Pindar, and in competition [17] with him obtained the prize. Mamaea too was so distinguished for wisdom, that the worthy and renowned Ulpian thought it an honor to be appointed one of her counsellors. Other cases might be introduced; but this topic is leading me too far from my main subject. One example more, however, shall be mentioned. The mighty genius of Zenobia rose above the indolence incident to the climate and manners of Asia. Her administration was guided by the most judicious maxims. She was too a linguist and historian, and expatiated upon the beauties of Homer and Plato, with the learned and eloquent Longinus.

Perhaps I may venture a little further. The peculiar sphere of the understanding is mathematics; and because there have not been great mathematicians among the female sex, she, to be sure, is to be deprived of her proper station in the department of intelligence.

Would men have been mathematicians if their education had been like that of woman? Surely not. Why then should woman, whose sphere is foreign to this pursuit, be represented as incapable of successfully engaging in it? Besides, many men of the first genius, and of the most vigorous intellect, have entertained an aversion to mathematics amounting to an incapacity to attend to them with success. The learned Gibbon declares that he entirely lost those seasons in which he was obliged to prosecute this branch of study; and Gray, in his time the first scholar in Europe, asserts that if mathematics would insure him wealth and fame, he would relinquish its advantages for the charms of general literature.

There is a diversity of taste among mankind; and the same privilege of enjoying it without censure should be granted to both sexes. The great mathematician Archimedes had but little inclination [18] for any other branch of learning than geometry; and Gray could not endure metaphysics.

There is also a diversity of talents among both sexes. The logical, learned, and eloquent Cicero failed in his attempts in poetry. How unreasonable would it be to consider him inferior to our great female poets on this account! and, of course, how unfair to deny strength of intellect to woman, because she is not conspicuous for her knowledge of mathematics!

A sense of propriety, relative to this digression, constrains me to conclude. In what respect, I ask, is woman inferior to the other sex? Heroism is a test of intellectual vigour; and woman has evinced superlative bravery, by a sudden transition from the gentle avocations of domestic life to the battle’s rage. An enlightened fortitude also argues strength of intellect. Here let men admire what they can never imitate: how much physical suffering, and how much anguish of spirit are peculiar to the female character! yet, resignation and hope are the cherub companions of her tribulation.

Modern times are throwing wonderful light upon this subject; and are developing those astonishing combinations of female sentiment and genius, which in past ages scintillated through the gloom of barbarism. A splendid list of names illustrative of this position might be here introduced; but the whole list would be too long, and a selection would be difficult. Sentiment is emphatically the highest sphere of genius; and it is the sphere where the heart becomes the great magician of intellectual life. Men are indebted to woman for what they possess of this principle; and until she made them acquainted with it they were barbarians.

Wherever I stopped, in my course through the settled parts of the country, I was much pleased [19] with the interest which my appearance excited in little children. There was a conflict exhibited in their countenances between the fears implanted by domestic education, and the native fondness of man for the hunter state. By my assuming, however, the aspect and the smile of civilization, they would come to my arms of fur, and listen attentively to the simple stories of the chase. Afterwards, they would reward my kindness to them by more solid attentions to my dogs.

In travelling from Connecticut River to Bennington, I passed through a part of Marlborough, Wilmington, Reedsbury, Stanford, and Woodford. Whilst in the latter place the weather was severe beyond a parallel. When, however, in Brattleborough, which lies immediately upon the river, the weather was much more moderate.

Whilst upon the Green Mountains my thoughts were particularly directed to the days of the Revolution, when, in the language of a British Chief, the sons of New-Hampshire and Vermont hung like a cloud upon his left. Here too I remembered that thunderbolt of war, the veteran Stark, in whose heart dwelt the very genius of his country, and who discomfited her enemies by the strength of his native hills.

On these mountains my attention was attracted by the appearance of a thick fall of snow during a clear sunshine. This appearance is not common here; and proceeds, I presume, from the little influence which the sun produces upon the state of the atmosphere in this situation. On the west side of these mountains the snow was not so deep as on the east side; and I apprehend that this is usually the case.

Within about two miles beyond this lofty ridge, Bennington is situated.[^[47]] This town presents an ancient [20] aspect, and appears unflourishing; it is situated, however, upon a fertile tract of country, and contains several handsome buildings. The number of its houses is perhaps two hundred. Mount Anthony, in the south part of the town, makes a pleasant appearance; and the town itself is rendered interesting by the two famous battles, fought a little west of it, on the 16th of August, 1777. In these battles the celebrated General Stark acquired imperishable fame. Owing to the severity of the weather I did not visit the noted cave of Mount Anthony.

From Bennington I proceeded through Hoosuck, Pittstown, Troy, and Albany. From the former to the latter place, the distance is about thirty-five miles.

In passing through Pittstown the weather was still severe; and night having overtaken me before I could reach a public house, I was under the necessity of lodging in a log hut. The family were very poor; but the wealth of Kings could not purchase their virtues. As is the case with many other honest people, they had experienced a series of misfortunes which ultimately reduced them to penury. Two years before the period of my seeing them, their mills, the principal part of their property, had been carried away by a freshet; and a year after this event, their dwelling was consumed, with all its contents. Yet these good people were cheerful, and their poverty sat gracefully upon them. They were unable to furnish me with a bed, a comfort with which I had learned to dispense, but very readily shared with me their last loaf. For their services they charged nothing; and it was with difficulty that I persuaded them to take compensation.

The blessings of poverty are neither few nor small. It attaches an extraordinary interest to the most common acquisitions; and, when there is little [21] or no apprehension of want, it furnishes a constant source of pleasing anticipation. Under such circumstances, parents and children experience their happiest moments. Mutual love, and mutual gratulation, here heighten and sanctify every expression of the care and bounty of Providence.—There is something in virtuous poverty, which speaks of treasures laid up in Heaven.

In entering Troy I left Lansingburgh on my right. The former place is exceedingly compact and flourishing, and extends between one and two miles on the east bank of the Hudson. On the other side of the river, at the distance of six miles, Albany is situated.

This city, in relation to the state, ranks next to that of New-York; but its appearance is far from being elegant. The streets are generally narrow and crooked; and its numerous buildings in the Gothic style give to it an ancient and unpolished aspect. It is, evidently, however, a place of great trade; and must, in the nature of things, rapidly increase in wealth and population. The back country is extensive and fertile; and the public spirit of the state of New-York is affording every facility to the inland transportation of its produce.

The variety of people in Albany is great. The Dutch here still make a considerable figure; but the Americans are more numerous. This place has received many names. Its scite was originally called Aurania; and the town itself was afterwards named Beverwych, Fort Orange, Williamstadt, and, upon its capitulation to the English in 1664, it received its present appellation. This city, next to Jamestown, in Virginia, is the oldest in the United States.

This place contains many large public buildings, among which is the city-hall, hospital, armoury, [22] &c. There are here also some elegant dwelling houses; but I should not suppose the city, from its appearance, the residence of much taste or erudition. It contains, however, what some may consider an equivalent:—many families of wealth and fashion. The population of the place is about twelve thousand.

After leaving Albany I shaped my course for Niagara Falls by the way of Cherry Valley. From the city there are two roads; the left hand one leading to the last mentioned place, and the right hand one to Schenectady. The great Western Turnpike extends from Schenectady, lying on the south bank of the Mohawk, and sixteen miles from Albany, to Buffalo, a distance of about three hundred miles. The two roads above mentioned intersect about one hundred and twenty miles from Albany.[^[48]] Upon both of them are many flourishing villages; and the produce which is conveyed from the interior to Albany, Troy, and other places in the state, is immense.

The state of New-York is very conspicuous for her public spirit. She is affording every facility, within the grasp of her mighty genius and resources, to her inland commerce. In arts, and arms, and internal improvement, she is already a Rome in miniature; and her grand Canal will vie with those of China and the Russian Empire.

In travelling over a part of the great western turnpike; and in collecting information as to the settlements and business both here and on the Mohawk, I was led to make some statistical calculations, the general result of which, together with some additional reflections, I transcribe from my journal.

The state of New-York is, of itself, a mighty republic. Her moral and physical energies; her agriculture, [23] manufactures, and commerce; and her individual enterprise and public spirit, render her omnipotent. She could contend alone and unassisted with Great-Britain. What then is the aggregate force of all our states and territories? The contemplation of their potential, and even probable physical power, within a short succession of years, presents such a manifold ratio as to overwhelm the boldest calculator.

But the moral energies of the country will, no doubt, become proportionably less. The friends of political virtue, however, must not be discouraged. The moral hero can do much towards stemming the torrent of political corruption. Besides, the vast surface over which the elements of this corruption will spread themselves, will render it, for a long course of time, comparatively harmless; and beyond this period, the influence of some Heavenly star may give to ambition and the love of power a purer spirit and a nobler aim.

In relation to this topic, the prevailing spirit of emigration, from the maritime to the inland frontier, will have a very beneficial influence. In a public point of view, great and permanent advantages will arise from the settlement of our western states and territories. But individuals from the east are not always benefitted by a removal. The principal advantages arising from such a step, are the profits on the purchase of new lands, and better crops obtained with less labour. The disadvantages are numerous. Those who can, by their industry, live well at home, will act wisely in remaining where they are. By a removal they lose a climate to which they are accustomed, good society, an opportunity to educate their children, and scenes to which their hearts will often fondly turn—The sons of New-Hampshire never forget her mountains!

[24] I shall speak more fully upon the subject of emigration in another place.

I may here introduce some facts relative to the grand canal in the State of New-York.[^[49]] The object of this great undertaking is to facilitate the inland commerce of the State, by uniting the waters of Lake Erie with those of the Hudson. The former are much higher than the latter; but still the labour and expence necessary to complete the undertaking, will prove to be immense. To the State of New-York, however, such a work scarcely requires an effort. Her almost inexhaustible resources, directed by the genius and energy of her Clinton, could accomplish a hundred times as much. The Canal passes in the direction of Genessee river, and Seneca and Cayuga lakes; and will turn much of the trade of the west from Montreal to the city of New-York.

Soon after leaving Albany I met with Colonel P. formerly an officer under General Wayne, during his famous expedition against the indians.[^[50]] From this gentleman I obtained many interesting facts; and spent a pleasant evening in conversing with him upon the subject of expatriation. This subject involves an abstract question of principle; and should be settled by the United States without the least reference to the opinion of civilians, or the practice of other nations. It is humiliating to see with what reverence we turn in relation to this subject, to the opinion of Blackstone, and to the contradictory positions of the British Government. The United States is the place, above all others, for correct opinions, upon questions involved in the great science of morals, as far as it respects the natural rights of individuals, the necessary modification of those rights in civil society, and the rights of nations as collective moral agents. Europe ever has been, [25] and still is a school of wrong; and those who are instructed by her participate in the sophistry of her reasoning, the tyranny of her views, and the inconsistency of her practice. The question of expatriation, is a question involving individual right, for the defence of which the aggregate strength of the whole community is guaranteed. This question, in the United States, arises from the claims of other nations to those of their subjects, who have left the territory to which they belonged without violating any municipal law upon the subject. The United States should protect all within her jurisdiction, whether upon her territory or under her flag, unless some municipal regulation of the adverse party in the question, shall have rendered the individual concerned incapable of acquiring the right to protection from the defending power. These principles should be adhered to for three reasons: the United States have a right to do so; they are bound by the civil compact, which renders protection and obedience inseparable, to do so; and it is their duty as a collective moral being to guard any individual, not under the jurisdiction of another sovereignty, from arbitrary power.

Such a course is dictated by the eternal and omnipotent principles of justice; and therefore no law of nations, which is a rule created or supposed by man, can resist them. Even that law which civilians call the voluntary law of nations, cannot, in relation to this subject, exonerate a government from those obligations which result from the social compact; because the question is grounded in the very germ of civil society; and the welfare of the whole community of nations, so far from requiring in this case an adherence to this law, renders it, upon its own principles, entirely inoperative.

[26] The internal law of nations does not militate with the above principles, because it requires only what is fair and conscientious. The customary law of nations must yield to those older and better rules which are dictated by justice. And as to the conventional law of nations, it rests upon the terms of contracts in subordination to previously existing and indispensable duties.

On the 12th of February I passed through Guelderland, Princeton, Schoharie, and Carlisle; and on the following day through Sharon, Cherry Valley, and Warren.[^[51]] Schoharie is one of the wealthiest inland farming towns in the state of N. York.

The weather still continued remarkably severe; but my dress was so comfortable, that I had no occasion for a fire.

During my whole tour through the settled parts of the country, I found a constant source of amusement in the curiosity and variety of observation, which my appearance excited. I must, however, confess that I often wished myself less conspicuous.

It is in the moment of surprise that the human character most fully developes itself; and in travelling, during the constant operation of this cause, one may acquire much knowledge of the almost infinite variety of disposition which exists among mankind. I met, in my course, with every shade of character, from the man of reading to the totally ignorant; and from the real gentleman to the rude and vulgar.

It may amuse a portion of my readers to know some of the various impressions which were made by my appearance, and the receptions which I experienced.

People seldom knew from whence I came, or what was my place of destination; and surprise and speculation were universal. Speculation was as various [27] as the dispositions and capacities of individuals.—Some honoured me with the idea that I was Bonaparte in disguise; and some secretly suggested that I was a Wizard:—

“Who prowl’d the country far and near,

Bewitch’d the children of the peasants,

Dry’d up the cows, and lam’d the deer,

And suck’d the eggs, and kill’d the pheasants.”

Some too, imagined me an Icelander; and some a British Spy. A few treated me with rudeness, many in a very gentlemanly manner, and some, not knowing what to make of my appearance, conferred upon me the title of General, and invited me to drink with them.

With respect to the first class, I made a point of taking no notice of them, when I could with propriety avoid it; but when I could not, I always made an example of them upon the spot. Such men seldom possess even animal courage; and there are very few, even of their associates, who are not pleased to see them punished.

I may here observe, that I was impressed by the general ignorance, with respect to the manners and customs of other nations, which appeared to exist in the civilized places through which I passed; and especially in and about Albany.

It is well known, that in Russia and many other countries in the north of Europe, people generally dress, more or less, in furs; and there are some instances of such a practice, even in the Canadas.—These facts, connected with the severity of the weather which prevailed during the early stages of my tour, might, one would think, have rendered a suit of fur a less general object of surprise. Severe as our winters are, I think a garment or two of Buffalo or some other warm skin, to be worn occasionally, [28] would, to say nothing of comfort, save many a man from rheumatism, and even from being frozen to death. It is only a year or two, since the stage driver from Albany to Bennington, froze and fell from his seat. The passengers were not apprized of the event, until the horses had proceeded several miles. The power of frost upon human life is astonishing. In an unsuspecting moment the blood chills in the veins and ceases to move. The memorable winter of 1709 saw two thousand men, under the celebrated Charles the XIIth, fall dead with cold in one day.

Many other similar instances might be mentioned. As to Charles, however, he had, by habit, rendered himself almost superhuman. His person was as invulnerable to the frosts of Denieper, as was his mind to the misfortunes which finally made him a prisoner at Bender.[^[52]]

On the evening of the 14th of February I had passed Otsego, Richfield, &c. and arrived at Plainfield. The towns between Albany and the last mentioned place are generally inconsiderable, and offer no interesting materials. They are, however, flourishing villages. During the whole of the 14th instant it snowed, and the travelling was very heavy. The general aspect of this part of the country is rather level than otherwise; there are here, however, many high and long hills. I had not yet ceased to be vulnerable to fatigue; but hardships had, in a measure, become familiar to me. I do not pretend that I did not sometimes stand in need of resolution; but men have only to move on, and difficulties become less. It is in looking ahead at the aggregate obstacles which present themselves in an undertaking, and in embodying them, as it were, in the space of a moment, that one’s mind is appalled. By meeting these obstacles in detail, we easily overcome [29] them; and then look back astonished at our apprehensions.

The Dutch mode of building, both with respect to their houses and barns, is visible in every part of the state of New-York; but American manners and customs are here absorbing all others.

The interior of this state, like that of New-Hampshire and Vermont, presents many small and ill contrived log huts; and those who have been unaccustomed to seeing such, would be surprised to find how comfortably people may live in them. These huts are sometimes without a floor, and have wooden chimnies. Men who are acquainted only with polished life, would tremble at the idea of spending their days in one of these buildings; yet, they are generally the abode of virtue, health and happiness.

On the 15th and 16th of February I passed through Eaton, Nelson, Casnove, Pompey and Manlius. The weather was very severe, the snow deep, and continually blowing. At Pompey I was so beset by ignorant impertinence and loquacious curiosity, that I found it necessary to harrangue the multitude. Having laid down for them some salutary rules upon the subject of manners, and taking their silence for an apology, I proceeded to Manlius.

Even in this part of the country, bears, wolves, and deer are numerous. During the preceding fall the depredations of the two former were very great; and the bounty offered for wolves, by some of the counties in the state, was ninety dollars.

During the 17th the weather was still severe and the wind high. I passed Onondago[^[53]] and Marcellus. Throughout these townships there are high and low hills. Owing to them, and to the depth of snow, my fatigue was great. My health also had suffered by many days and nights of severe tooth-ache. In [30] passing through these and many other places, I experienced attentions from people of consideration; and was frequently introduced to their families.

Onondago was formerly the chief town of the Six Nations; and lies on the south of the lake of that name. This lake is sometimes called salt lake; and the springs near its shores produce immense quantities of salt. The Onondago Indians reside near this lake; but their numbers are diminishing.

During the 18th, 19th and 20th of February I travelled through Brutus, Aurelius, Auburn, Cayuga, Junius, and Waterloo.[^[54]] The weather in this part of the country had been for several days, and still was colder than had been before known there. The snow likewise was remarkably deep. Cayuga Lake is about forty miles in length, and from two to four miles broad. The famous bridge across it is more than one mile in length. On the banks of this lake the Cayuga Indians reside.

The Six Nations of Indians above mentioned are the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagoes, Senecas, Cayugas and Tuscaroras. The Stockbridge and Brotherton Indians now live with the united tribes.[^[55]] Notwithstanding these, and many other tribes are still in possession of vast tracts of land, and receive annually considerable sums from the United States, and also from individual states, they are occasionally emigrating to the wildernesses of Canada. Still wild and untameable, the surrounding aspect of civilization alarms them; and they silence the suggestions of jealousy by removing to pathless and illimitable forests.

Many of the villages on the Western Turnpike have made their appearance within a very few years; and the vast resources of the interior of the state of New-York are daily developing.

[31] During this part of my tour a little incident occurred, which resulted so pleasantly, and so fully evinced the policy as well as propriety of a certain course of conduct, that I am induced to mention it. In one of the last named towns, I was, whilst at a public house, furiously assailed by words and threats, by a man, who evidently had been of considerable consideration in society, but who had become a sot, and was at this time much intoxicated. As he was not in a situation to defend himself, there could have been no display of true courage in punishing him; and besides, he was already an object of pity. To his imbecile fury, therefore, I presented only a steady eye. He drew back. In a few minutes, however, he made another assault; and again yielded to a firm and silent aspect. A few hours after I met him in another place. His inebriety had, in a great measure, left him; he was very sorry for his conduct, and expressed towards me much good will.

I have observed, that I was seldom known; and as I appeared to be a person travelling in disguise, some pains were taken to ascertain who I was. The suggestions respecting me were very numerous; and a great many bets were made, and many expedients resorted to in relation to my origin, destination, and business. Some imagined me to be upon a secret expedition for the government. My manners seldom comporting with my mode of living, the multitude were at a loss to know to what class in society I belonged. They heard me converse like other people; but seldom saw me eat or drink, and were surprised to view me sleeping with my dogs upon the bare floor.

In my course through the upper part of the state of New-York, I spent many a pleasant evening, surrounded by a great variety of character, and seated [32] by a huge western fire. During these seasons some political question would often arise, and it was interesting to witness the debates. Upon one occasion a serious legal question, long agitated in the neighbourhood, was introduced; and being a limb of the law, I involuntarily made an observation upon it. Bets soon began to run high, and the Pedestrian was appointed umpire.

It is unpleasant for one to speak of himself.—Many anecdotes, which would be interesting to my friends, must be omitted.

In the course of a few days after leaving Waterloo, I passed through many towns, the principal of which are Romulus, Ovid, Hector, Ulysses, and Geneva; also Canandaigua, the two Bloomfields and Lima; and in addition to these Avon, Caledonia and Batavia.[^[56]] Some of these towns, especially the two Bloomfields and Lima, constitute a remarkably handsome and rich tract of country.

Canandaigua is situated at the north of the lake of this name; and many of the buildings of this place are large and elegant. The lake is about eighteen or twenty miles long, and two or three miles broad.

But it would have been in order first to speak of Seneca lake, which lies east of lake Canandaigua. Seneca lake is about thirty-five miles long, and about two miles wide. The numerous lakes in the interior of the state of New-York, are admirably calculated to promote her inland commerce. Whilst they furnish by their numbers, and their positions the means of connecting her resources, and promoting the trade and intercourse of her people, they are not so large as to occupy an unnecessary portion of her territory. Every thing, in relation to New-York, is conspiring to render her a wonderfully powerful State.

[33] Whilst in Canandaigua the court was sitting; and owing to some novel proceedings there, one or two thousand people were assembled. After pressing through the crowd, and obtaining some information respecting my course, I proceeded on my way.

Not long after I formed a particular acquaintance with Doctor S. He introduced me to his family, and entertained me in a very hospitable and friendly manner. The Doctor, being no less fond of an innocent joke than he was conspicuous for his good sense and benevolence, proposed in the course of the evening, his introducing me to a shrewd old neighbour of his, as a relation who lived on some far distant mountain, and who had been long absent. I readily assented to the proposition, and we both agreed upon the parts which we were to act. Owing, however, to an unnatural performance on my part, or to some other cause, the neighbour detected the deception. But the assay resulted in considerable amusement; and after drinking to the health of each other, the Doctor and myself left the old gentleman to exult in his penetration.

At 3 o’clock the next morning, I was awakened by the rich and lofty notes of the bugle-horn, and entertained by several superb martial songs. At daylight we sat down to a good breakfast; and immediately after I resumed my march.

Amidst all these pleasant circumstances, my dogs had accidentally been neglected; and seeing their master fare so well, they at length took the liberty to help themselves. The larder of Mrs. S. being open, they espied there a large pan of baked pork and beans; and without ceremony,—or knife and fork divided the former between them; leaving the beans for those who were less carnivorous. After this broad hint on their part, the lady of the house fed them to their heart’s content.

[34] During my tour, thus far, I formed many valuable acquaintances.

Here I may remark that from Albany to the remote interior of New-York, there is, generally speaking, but little hospitality; and the love of money there displays itself in the high prices which are charged for provisions. Immense profits are realized by the retailer at the expense of the traveller. I have always noticed in my travels, that the newer a settlement is, the more prevalent is hospitality. This great virtue is much more conspicuous among the poor, than among those who possess more than a competency. Here avarice begins its reign; and every virtue is blasted by its poisonous influence.

In this part of the country, and in many other places I often found it convenient to stop at the log huts of poor emigrants. From the inmates of these huts I always experienced a kind and generous welcome; and in almost every case I ascertained that they were from New-Hampshire or Vermont.—They would generally refuse to take any compensation for their services; and were so afraid of violating the sacred principles of hospitality, that I could only leave my money upon their table, or cast it as a play thing to their children. Oh! how many tutelary angels shield the cot of the poor and virtuous man, whilst the splendid habitations of the rich and dissipated, receive only the averted eye of offended Heaven.

I have omitted to mention, that whilst in Albany I was informed that robberies had been frequently committed on the Western Turnpike. This information appeared peculiarly important, on account of the frequent suggestions of people that I probably had with me a large sum of money. Besides, war, which always produces a greater or less number of abandoned and desperate characters, having [35] recently ceased, and there being many dark and solitary tracts of wood on the turnpike, I thought there was much cause for apprehension. I had, however, previously concealed my money in different parts of my cloaths, and was careful to keep my arms in a state of preparation. Fortunately I met with no attack. The appearance of my arms, and the apparent fierceness of my dogs, were, probably, preventatives.

I was frequently told too, that owing to my mode of dress, there would be much danger of my being shot by the hunters in passing through the bushes. Many accidents, sanctioning the idea, had from time to time occurred. A hunter, not long before, had killed a deer, and throwing it upon his shoulder was proceeding home. Another hunter, having an obscure view of the deer through the bushes, fired and killed the man. I did not, however, experience any injury from this quarter.

Such was the depth of snow and such the severity of the weather during the first month of my tour, that no game was to be found in the woods excepting a few squirrels; and those only during a momentary sunshine. Numerous as had been the beasts of prey throughout the preceding fall, they seemed now to be waiting in their dens for the storms to be overpassed. All nature appeared to be congealed; and the tyrant winter presented an unrelenting aspect.

In the remote parts of the State of New-York provisions were scarce. There are so many emigrants travelling and settling in that quarter during winter, that want is frequently the consequence.—The emigrants, who settle during that season of the year, must be fed, for many months, from the common stock of provisions, before they can, by their labour, add to it. Some of them have money, but [36] money will not save them from want. Here we see the importance of the agricultural interest, and, generally, of the productive power of labour. Agriculture and domestic manufactures will render a people perfectly independent. Money is of no real consequence excepting when employed as a circulating medium; fancy however has cherished for it an irrational partiality. Thank Heaven! we have no considerable mines of silver and gold to corrupt our country; but plenty of iron to plough her fields and to defend her liberties.

Agriculture is the most natural, necessary, and honourable employment of man. Ignorant pride and vain folly may represent it as derogatory; but in so doing they show how very far they are from true greatness. Agriculture furnishes for vigorous constitutions the most salutary exercise; and here the brightest geniuses may find ample employment.—An unlimited field for experiment in many branches of natural philosophy is here presented, and there is no sphere in life so well calculated as this to promote individual virtue and public advantage.

Here man is engaged in the peculiar work assigned him by his Creator, and many interesting reflections naturally result from it. The field which he cultivates is his parent earth. According to the righteous appointment of Heaven, he must here obtain his bread by the sweat of his brow, until he returns to the dust. The employment naturally directs his thoughts to his origin and destinies; and impresses his mind with a sense of his mortality, dependence, and accountability to God. Here too he reflects, with peculiar advantage, upon the gracious plan of Redemption. The return of spring joyfully reminds him of the Resurrection; and in the perishing grain which he has sown, he recognizes St. Paul’s similitude of this great event.

[37] The further a man’s employment is from rural scenes and avocations, the further he is from the original dignity and simplicity of his nature. Here may be acquired the greatest comparative degree of physical and mental vigour, the noblest virtues, the truest piety, the most sincere and ardent patriotism, the loftiest independence of character, and all the pleasures which flow from the sprightliness of the imagination and the susceptibility of the heart.

The great and good of every age have spoken in behalf of agriculture; and the Egyptians ascribed the discovery of it to their gods. The worthies of Greece and Rome were well acquainted with the plough; and Cincinnatus left his team, vanquished the Æqui and Volsci, who were besieging the Roman army, and then returned to his beloved employment. Our Washington too, charmed his pure and noble spirit with the rural occupations of his endeared Vernon; and the Emperor of China attends, every spring, to the ceremony of opening the ground, by holding the plough himself.

In my course to Niagara Falls I passed Genesee river. This river rises in Pennsylvania, and enters Lake Ontario about eighty miles east of Niagara river. It contains several falls, from fifty to one hundred feet in height, and offers many fine seats for mills. This river, and those which are connected with it are generally sluggish in their motion.

The tract of country lying upon the Genessee is rich, and well watered. The celebrated Genessee Flats are situated on the borders of the river, and is about twenty miles by four.

The Holland Purchase is a part of the Genessee Country.[^[57]]

Although I have not yet surveyed the whole field of domestic emigration, I may, with propriety, introduce in this place some ideas which I [38] have heretofore entertained upon the subject; these ideas having been fully sanctioned by the experience of my whole tour. The subject should be examined both in a national and individual point of view.

Supposing, for a moment, that my reflections upon this topic may produce some effect upon the feelings and opinions of those who are disposed to emigrate, there is little or no danger of lessening the interests of the nation, in relation to it, by checking too much the existing locomotive disposition of the people.

Dear as home is to man, he is, in his best estate, a wanderer. An alien from the purity and peace of Heaven, he will sigh for other scenes until his highest hopes eventuate in a habitation there.

Upon this general disposition of mankind to change their views of happiness and their place of residence, the people of the United States have engrafted an unusual degree of enterprise. This enterprise has at once enriched and ennobled their country. Naturally fond of agriculture, and fully sensible of its consequence, both in a public and private point of view, our citizens have combined, in relation to this subject, the powerful influences of inclination, interest, and patriotism. But the impulse to emigration under these circumstances may have been too great. When a spring naturally overflows, the superabundance of its water may well be spared to fertilize the adjacent country; but when some extraordinary influence produces an ebullition in the spring, it may, in consequence of this cause, exhaust its own resources and ultimately become dry.

Extraordinary causes, in relation to those subjects which concern the growth of a nation, should always be watched and sometimes checked. Under ordinary circumstances the natural operation of cause and effect will keep every thing within its proper [39] sphere,—will direct every thing to its proper level.

With respect to emigrations from our seaboard to the inland states and territories, there is danger of the strength of the nation being, for a time, lessened. The physical force of a country should always be kept compact. By dividing its powers its energies will be weakened.

Such, with us, has been the impetus of the spirit of emigration, that the influence of example and habit, in relation to it, will continue to operate for some time to come. Indeed such is the fascinating nature of the subject, that it will always be more or less popular; and as to the habit of moving from place to place, it is, in some, so completely fixed, that after they have passed through every part of the land of promise, they will, for the sake of one more change, return to the seaboard again. In a national point of view I am far from wishing to discourage domestic emigration; and I am far too from thinking that it does not frequently result in individual advantage.

It is essential to the preservation of our free and economical institutions, that the seaboard should from time to time transplant a part of its population to the interior. The existence of liberty in a state ultimately depends, in no small degree, upon rural avocations, and upon a particular climate and scenery. In some of our western states and territories liberty will exist for a great length of time. Transplanted from the seaboard, their citizens will acquire a new moral force, and that force will be cherished by the local peculiarities of their situation. These states will produce a happy balance between the agricultural and commercial interests, and prove at once the check and the political salvation of the maratime states.

[40] In proportion to the population of our maratime cities will be their luxury, dissipation, and indifference to simple and rational modes of government. No doubt the interests of commerce ought to be cherished; not, however, so much because they are essential to our independence and happiness, as because they encourage industry at home by furnishing a foreign market for surplus produce. The other advantages of foreign trade, both literary and commercial, are not inconsiderable; and they ought to be appreciated:—but not without a due reference to the contaminating influences of foreign manners and customs. With respect to manners and customs, other nations, in their intercourse with us, are, no doubt, gainers; but we, I am satisfied, experience from them much injury. It may be added, that a certain extent of population in our sea ports is essential to that degree of commercial enterprise, which will set afloat our surplus capital; and therefore we ought to view the spirit of emigration in relation to this particular.

I may improve this opportunity to make a few additional reflections upon foreign commerce. The advocates of this interest, under the pretence of attaching to it a consequence only equal to that of agriculture, have laboured to prove that the former is even paramount to the latter,—that the country is almost exclusively a commercial nation. One of these advocates, in a speech delivered in Congress in January 1814, advances such a principle. Much as I admire the sublime complexion of his intellect, and the enlightened majesty of his heart, I must say that his position is altogether exceptionable.—He observes, in the above mentioned speech, that the principal motive for adopting the constitution of the general government was the protection and extension of commerce. So far from this being the [41] case, the great and principal conditions and objects of our national compact, were individual security and the advancement of the true interests of the country. It must have been well known, that a state of things might exist which would render an abandonment of foreign commerce absolutely necessary to the preservation of our liberties,—to the protection of individual right, and even the very existence of the nation.

But I go much further. Our commercial interests are of far less consequence than those of agriculture. The former are not essential to our independence and comfort. They do not even exist until agriculture has so far advanced as to furnish more than sufficient provisions for the support of the whole community; not only for those who labour in agriculture, but also for labourers in manufactures and other mechanical employments; for those who are engaged in domestic commerce; for those who are engaged in promoting intellectual improvement; and lastly, for those who, owing to infancy, old age, disease and other causes are unable to work. When this state of things commences, and not before, foreign commerce begins its career. Here the people inquire what they shall do with their surplus produce, and being unable to find a market for it at home, endeavour to find for it a foreign market. Hence arise foreign commercial relations. As to the luxuries which foreign commerce produces, our constitution certainly never made provision for their introduction.

It remains for me to notice the subject of domestic emigration, in relation to the individual advantage which may arise from it.

The views of mankind with respect to the sources of true happiness are, generally speaking, very erroneous. This effect arises principally from inconsideration. [42] We see enough in the Divine Word in the book of nature, and in the suggestions of conscience to convince us, that our relation to a future state of existence is of wonderful import. The first questions which we should ask ourselves are:—what was the design of our creation? and what duties does this design inculcate? As far as is consistent with these great views, man may innocently consult his inclinations. Indeed they were given for the twofold purpose of rational gratification, and to furnish him with an opportunity, when their indulgence would be irrational, to display his virtue by self controul. The more strictly we conform to that purity of heart and holiness of life which the gospel inculcates, the more exalted will be our nature, the higher our standard of happiness, and the more perfect our preparation for the society of Heaven.

The present life is, no doubt, a season of probation. Here we are to form a character for a future and permanent state of existence. Consistently with the endeavour duly to improve our intellectual, moral, and religious nature, it is important for man to exert himself to obtain a comfortable support. Generally speaking, however, this should be the limit of his views. It is most consistent with the uncertain tenure of human life, and most congenial to the growth of virtue and the production of happiness. A wish to acquire a great estate can be sanctioned only by an equal desire to employ it in effecting charitable purposes, and in aiding institutions which have in view individual and public advantage. The desire of great wealth for other purposes is criminal. It is dictated by a spirit of luxury, by pride, by extravagance, by a spirit of vain competition, or, what is worse than all, by avarice. As for leaving great estates to children, no wise or kind parent will ever do it. Industry will, generally speaking, produce a [43] competency; and economy will, in time, convert that competency into wealth.

But I must speak more directly to the point.—From motives of patriotism one may emigrate from the east to the west, especially to a frontier state or territory; and he will, perhaps, find in this removal great individual profit. The circumstances of men are various. Emigrations are sometimes advantageous and sometimes otherwise;—advantageous in point of health and in point of property. Many, however, lose both instead of gaining either by a removal. There are many erroneous views entertained upon this subject: and it is, principally, because men are governed, in relation to it, more by feelings than by ideas. The subject interests the imagination; and pleasing anticipations upon a new topic, always afford more satisfaction, than the actual possession of that which is as valuable as the object itself, the future possession of which is anticipated. Many persons by emigration have become rich; but does it follow that they might not have become so at home? Many too by moving from place to place have become poor. Had they been stationary they might at least have secured to themselves a competency. There are almost innumerable advantages and disadvantages in relation to this subject, and the balance must be stricken according to the circumstances of each individual. Those whose object is to acquire a good living by their industry, and who can obtain this at home, will act unwisely in changing their situation. They cannot more fully gratify their views by a removal: and by such a step they abandon what is necessary and certain for what is at once unnecessary and precarious. They might, perhaps, obtain abroad, with less labour, what they now obtain at home; but they are not aware how essential industry is to their happiness. [44] It gives a zest to food, and sleep, and social intercourse; and also furnishes substantial rest;—a luxury of which the idle are ignorant. Some have been so imprudent as to abandon the home of their infancy, where the comforts of life could have been obtained by a good degree of industry. What were the consequences? perhaps wealth;—but it was unnecessary;—perhaps poverty, disease and premature death. Some too, even in advanced life, and after spending their time in clearing a tract of land, so as to render it fertile and easy of cultivation, have sacrificed a comfortable and pleasant old age for new perils and labours in the western wilds.

The great complaint of the people of the east is, that their agricultural labours are great and their crops small. This declaration is, in some degree, correct; but its truth arises, principally, from our cultivating too much land. And yet we are ready to make great sacrifices for the purpose of obtaining vast tracts in the west. It is admitted that the land of the west is, generally speaking, more fertile than ours; but it does not follow that it will always be so, or that ours may not be rendered sufficiently fertile. New land is always most productive. It has been enriching itself for ages. But its fertility will, upon being cultivated, become less. We see the truth of these remarks in the cultivation of our own new lands. But I will not conceal the fact, that the western lands are naturally more fertile than those of the east. Some of the former are almost inexhaustibly rich; but others of them will, in time, become poor; and then will not be so easily rendered fertile as those of the east. The eastern land too is stronger, more durable, retains moisture longer, and of course more easily preserves its fertility. This is particularly the case in its comparison with the land of Kentucky. That State is exposed [45] to great drouth. Its pan being limestone, and its soil consisting of loam, but little rain is imbibed, and that little is soon lost through the pores of the limestone, and by evaporation. To the great quantities of limestone in Kentucky, its caves and petrefactions are to be attributed. Moisture is absolutely necessary to vegetation. The richest land without it is entirely unproductive. Upon this principle it is decidedly injurious to deprive land of its small stones. They not only cause it to retain moisture; but, by keeping it light, enable it to receive much rain. They also render the earth warm, and admit into it the necessary quantity of air. By depriving land of its stones the earth falls into a solid mass, and the consequence is, that it imbibes but a small portion of rain. The stones of our fields should be rolled in as soon as the grain is sowed. On the surface they will be useless, and very troublesome.

I have suggested, that we cultivate too much land to render agriculture profitable. I speak in relation to the means which we employ for fertilizing our land. Much may be done without the aid of manure; but the use of this article is the most ready and efficient mode of rendering the cultivation of the earth profitable. Instead, however, of increasing this article by compost, we misapply that which is incident to our farms. By spreading a small quantity of manure upon a large piece of poor land, it is almost entirely lost; in as much as it remains in an inactive state. There is not a sufficient quantity to give an impetus to the cold and barren earth with which it is mixed. This is one great cause of poor crops; and the great surface over which the labour of the husbandman is spread is the principal ground of the excessive labour of which he complains. Should the farmer plough [46] only as much land as he could highly manure, his labour would be comparatively small, his crops great, and his land constantly improving. By this mode of proceeding the crops would not exhaust the land; and the quantity of manure upon it, beyond what is necessary to the production of the crops, would, by its fermentation, fertilize and render of the nature of compost the whole cultivated surface. Such land may, with a trifling expense, be kept very rich. Whilst this process is operating upon a part of the poor lands of a farm, the residue of them may lie fallow, or be fertilized by ploughing in such green crops as may be produced upon a lean soil.

The extraordinary means of enriching land are numerous. A little reflection upon the most common principles of philosophy will point them out. The elements, acting upon each other, are constantly producing effects, and the latter operate as causes in the production of effects more remote. Different soils, and different manures, and different crops must all be connected according to their respective and relative natures.

The materials for making compost upon a farm are almost innumerable; and leisure hours, which would otherwise be lost, may be employed in collecting them. Another extraordinary mean of fertilizing the earth is frequent ploughing. This work, especially when performed at particular times, is highly useful. It separates the unproductive masses, and opens the soil more fully to the impregnations of that vegetable nourishment which is contained in rain, dew, and even the air itself. Ploughing land when the dew is on the ground is very beneficial. I may add, that the ploughing in of stubble as soon as the crops are off, is of much consequence.

[47] Wet land should be drained, and, when practicable, land comparatively high should be overflown. The soil of the former should, in some cases, be spread upon the latter; and that of the latter applied in the same way upon the former. Overflowing may sometimes be employed conveniently and to much advantage.

I have said that moisture is absolutely necessary to vegetation. This country is rather subject to drouth than otherwise; and hence, principally, arises the occasional failure of our crops. One cause of the great fertility of England is the frequent rains there. With us there is more rain than in Great-Britain; but in the latter place it falls, not in torrents as is sometimes the case with us, but in gentle and more frequent showers. Wet seasons are never unfruitful.

Another mode of rendering land productive is by a change of crops. Different plants require a different kind of nourishment, and a piece of land may contain a greater quantity of one kind of vegetable food than of another. All crops, in a greater or less degree, consume, in time, their peculiar food; and of course require a change of situation. To make this change, among the variety of crops on a farm, with judgment, requires both theoretical and practical knowledge in husbandry.

A change of seed also is of consequence. Seed carried from the north to the south, and likewise from the east to the west will do better than that which comes from a milder climate. Sowing seed upon the ground which produced it is highly disadvantageous. By a change of seed the action of the soil upon it is more animated. Improvement of seed too in agriculture is of consequence. That which is first ripe and most perfect should be selected; [48] and the mode of preserving it requires attention.

With respect to the raising of cattle too we act as unwisely as we do in relation to the cultivation of our land. According to the limited productions of our farms, our cattle are too numerous. We lose one half of the food appropriated for them, by applying it to too great a number. In many cases our cattle are not worth so much in the spring of the year as they were in the preceding fall. Our swine, in particular, are kept poor until the crops come in, and then it costs to fatten them three times as much as they are worth: the consequence is that the farmer, before another fall, complains of his want of corn.

Great improvements may be made in relation to the breed and feeding of cattle. A change of stock is as important here as in agriculture. It may also be observed, that present profit is too frequently consulted at the expense of ultimate loss. The farmer sells all his best cattle to the butcher, or kills them for his own use, before their real value is suffered to develope itself, and to eventuate in the improvement of his stock.

The agricultural societies established in New-England, and in other states of the Union, within a few years, have produced much individual and public benefit. That of Massachusetts is rendering her, with respect to this subject, the rival of Great-Britain. New-Hampshire is doing something in this way; and her legislature should immediately encourage her agricultural interests.

As to the means of increasing our crops, much more might be offered; but the nature of this work will not warrant it. Although many of our farmers do well, all might do better; and it cannot be denied that many of us are very negligent agriculturalists. How many of our lands are [49] ploughed only once, and that very imperfectly!—How many of our pastures are injured by the promiscuous range of swine, geese, and every other creature on a farm! How many of our orchards are left for years uncultivated and unpruned! How many of our mowing fields are, both in the spring and fall, shamefully poached and grubbed by horses and sheep, as well as horned cattle! How much neglect is there in the collection of fodder, and how much waste in the application of it! With us there are many errors to be corrected, and many improvements to be made. This topic is important, interesting, and exhaustless; but I must dismiss it, after making a very few additional remarks. As to our orchards, and the grazing of our mowing fields in the spring, I trust that we shall speedily abandon practices which are so disgraceful and so injurious. The most vigorous roots of grass shoot first. Those our cattle crop. The future growth is feeble; and grass, which springs after the season for it, is always puny. With respect to our orchards, we seem to think that they require no cultivation; that we have only to set down the trees, and all will be well: but the nature of things should convince us of the irrationality of our views upon this point. Trees require manuring and cultivating as much as any other plant.

I return to the comparison between the east and the west. However high may be the reputation of [50] the western lands, they are decidedly inferior to ours, as a grazing country. Another advantage which we possess over the west is, the superiority of our market. There is a much greater disproportion between the prices, than between the crops of the two sections of the country. Our crops are something less; but the prices which we obtain for our produce are much higher than those of the west. As to the prices too, of many articles, such as clothing and groceries, the advantage is with us; the people of the west being obliged to pay for the expense of transportation, and also the profits of the western retailer.

In point of health, the air of the west is not so salubrious as that of the east. The country being still covered with forests, its streams are noxious; and being too, a level country, its evaporations are great. These circumstances produce diseases of a peculiar and fatal nature. Our mountains are entirely free from them.

With respect to religious privileges, morals, means of education, and social intercourse, the west is at present, and will be for some time to come, far inferior to the east.

As to relations and friends, which emigrants frequently leave behind them, every one will judge for himself; but surely to a disinterested and susceptible heart, this sacrifice is not inconsiderable. When persons of this cast of character reflect upon the fleeting nature of time, its vicissitudes, and the need which they frequently feel of the society and solace of their friends, they will wish to spend with them the days of their pilgrimage, to participate with them in the little joys of life, and to commune together upon the hopes of a better world.

In concluding my reflections upon the subject of emigration, I may observe that in no case is it necessary [51] for the people of the east to emigrate to the western country. There is in the former an ample field for labour; and the reward of this labour is sufficient for every rational purpose of life. Whilst men complain of labour, they add to it by speculating upon foreign means of enjoyment, when at the same time they possess every source of happiness, excepting gratitude and contentment. Many persons, by extravagance, become embarrassed, and then censure the times, and complain of their lot instead of applying to industry and economy for relief. Economy will perform wonders. Nothing is more true than the adage that a penny saved is a penny earned. The state of things, for several years past, has been teaching us a salutary lesson upon this subject; and all can now live within their income without wounding their pride. In economising, however, we must avoid parsimony, which soon leads to avarice—the source of all crime, and all littleness.

I have already written much; but, according to my journal, it is still February, I have progressed only within sixty miles of the Heights of Queenstown, and the storms of winter still rage.

In my course through the western parts of the state of New-York, I generally travelled within forty miles of Lake Ontario. In this part of the country many of the people entertain strange notions respecting supernatural agencies. Solitude, whilst it strengthens the mind, and fortifies the heart of the well informed, renders the ignorant timid and superstitious. The whisper of their forests, and the echo of their hills, alarm their unenlightened imaginations. Those inhabitants of the west, of whom I am now speaking, believe in witchcraft, and often suppose it the source of disease both in man and beast. Whilst on the borders of Ontario, I stopped for a few moments at a log hut where there was a man in a convulsion [52] fit. During the operation of the malady, my attention was attracted by the conversation of two young women upon the subject. One of them observed that if a garment of the man should be taken off and thrown into the fire, the fit would leave him, and never again return. The other assented to the idea; but the prescription was not attended to. Perhaps they were afraid of being bewitched themselves. It is a very common idea too, in the remote parts of New-York, that if a man should shoot an owl with his rifle, it would be rendered so crooked as never to throw ball true again.

I may here say a word of the backwoodsmen. They are hardy, active, industrious, and in the employment of the axe, wonderfully strong and dexterous. But, with respect to manners, some of them are no less rude than the wilds which they inhabit.

The upper part of the state of New-York is, comparatively, a wilderness. There are here many Indian reserves. They are solitary places; they are dark spots on the face of civilization. The tawny inhabitants of these gloomy forests generally establish themselves in the most remote situations, and render the access to them indirect and difficult. Whenever I entered their villages, they seemed, by their manner towards each other, to say: “This civil wretch has found out our retreat.” There is a shyness and wildness in their aspect, no less significant than such a declaration. No cause of wonder is it, that these persecuted beings look with a jealous eye upon the descendants of those Europeans, who drove their ancestors from the pleasant regions of the east. They see no end to the avarice, the claims, or the progress of white men; and view themselves between the horrors of civilization, and the illimitable expanse of the Pacific ocean.

[53] Barbarous as are the Indians of North America, they possess much greatness, and many virtues. Considering their prejudices against us, which prejudices are incident to their education, and by no means groundless, they evince much forbearance, and even friendship towards us.

Near one of the Indian reserves, I met five of these children of nature. As I had not seen one for fifteen years before, I was much interested in their appearance. In approaching them I presented a grave but friendly aspect. Their gravity at first exceeded mine, but they soon became rather sociable. After some little conversation we parted, not, however, until they had taken much notice of my “varm drase.” In the course of a few hours, I passed what is called an Indian opening. It was an exposed situation of many miles in extent; the weather was severe, the snow deep, and the wind continually whirled it about the unsheltered traveller.

Not knowing the extent of this opening, and fearing that night might find me without fuel, or materials for a tent, I exerted myself to reach in season, the adjoining wood. By this means I became fatigued, and very much in want of refreshment. I had no provisions with me, and indeed no means of carrying any. I soon perceived, in the edge of the forest, a small log hut; but poverty resided there, and I could obtain only an ear of corn; this, however, I found palatable and nutritious. Dyonysius[^[58]] did not like the fare of the public tables, under the institutions of Lycurgus, because, as the cook said, it was not seasoned with fatigue and hunger. Towards evening, as I was travelling through a dark wood, I discovered what I presumed to be an Indian trail, and, for the sake of adventure, concluded to follow it. It snowed fast, darkness was approaching, and [54] the wilderness presented a dreary aspect. Had not my heart been afraid of me, it would have communicated a secret alarm to my imagination, and then I should have seen around me a thousand ambuscades. But I had so often cried down to its contemptible obtrusiveness, that it feigned, at least, a tranquil mood.

The snow was deep, and the track exceedingly serpentine; so that I seemed, occasionally, to be travelling back to the point at which I commenced the adventure. It, however, finally led me over a gradual descent into a dark plain. The first evidence which I had of there being human habitations here, was a few sticks of recently cut wood piled above the snow. Soon after, I heard the distant bay of dogs. At length I came in open view of a large collection of wigwams. It was now, however, so dark, and it snowed so fast, that I could only see obscurely the objects which presented themselves. But upon going nearer, my attention was arrested by the appearance of many Indians, going in their blankets, from several of the huts to a long and low building, which I afterwards ascertained was their council house. Thinking that I should here have a good opportunity to see many of the Indians together, I knocked at the door, lifted the latch, and entered. I made a slight bow, and took off my cap. They presented me, in return, a serious and unmoved aspect, but offered me a seat. Soon after, I thought that I perceived in them some degree of timidity. They had, within a few days, been performing some religious ceremonies, and were, probably, unusually superstitious. They had been wearing masks, for the purpose of driving the evil spirit from their village; and, perhaps, they began to think that they had not affected their object. I endeavoured, however, to render my society agreeable [55] to them. When I entered the council house, there were about fifty or sixty persons there. The building was about eighty feet long, and about twelve or fourteen wide. Across the beams overhead were several poles, hanging from which were some traces of mouldy corn; and on each side of the building were benches for seats. There was no floor to the house, and at each end of it there was, upon the ground, a large council fire. At a little distance from these, there were two parties engaged in a war-dance. This is a custom which these Indians will not relinquish. Some of them were naked, and many of them covered with ornaments. They wore strings of trinkets around their ankles, the object of which appeared to be to produce music in dancing. They also had much jewelry in their ears and noses. In their war dances, they imitate every part of an engagement: the onset, retreat of the enemy, pursuit, &c. Here the young warrior acquires a martial spirit, and the love of fame; and here too the aged veteran reminds his tribe of what he has done, and of what his spirit tells him he could do again. During the dances, I was much interested in the appearance of a youth, a son of a chief, whose zeal for his nation caused him, in the feigned pursuit of the enemy, to leap over the prescribed circle of the dance, into the fire. An old and decrepit chief too, here evinced no less devotion to his country. His appearance excited admiration and pity. He was emaciated by disease, scarred in battle, and bent with the weight of years. He evinced in his efforts the greatest energy of spirit, whilst such was his decrepitude that he could not lift his eyes from the ground. His trinkets rattled upon his aged limbs, and his wheezing lungs sounded in his hollow trunk. Poor child of nature!—Heaven careth for thee!

[56] The dances commenced with the beat of an old kettle drum, and was ended by a rap with a club upon one of the benches. At the conclusion of each dance one of the chiefs addressed the company, and passed a piece of tobacco as a token, which they understood much better than myself.

In the course of an hour or two after I left this scene of war, I entered one of the huts. Many came here to see me, and seemed desirous to know from whence I came, whither I was going, &c. A few of them could imperfectly speak English. An old chief attracted, by his ugliness, my particular attention. He was about sixty years of age; his skin was coarse and shrivelled, his face was covered with scars, one of his eyes was protuberant, bloodshot and sightless, and his hair was matted by thick red paint, having the appearance of blood. Some of the men were likely, the old women squalid, and the young ones uninteresting. The children, however, were pretty.

It is said that the Indians of North America treat their wives with coldness and neglect; but I am of a different opinion. Certain it is that their affection towards their offspring is lively and tender.