LIB R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 317,7 
 
 ILLiNQiS HISTORICAL SURffif
 
 
 THEFARWE 
 
 E S T: 
 
 r / '"r~ -'i 
 
 OK, 
 
 A TOUR BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 EMBRACING 
 
 OUTLINES OP WESTERN LIFE AND SCENERY; SKETCHES OF 
 
 THE PRAIRIES, RIVERS, ANCIENT MOUNDS, EARLY 
 
 SETTLEMENTS OP THE FRENCH, ETC., ETC. 
 
 "If thou be a severe, sour-complexioned man, then I here disallow thee to 
 be a competent judge." IZAAK WALTON. 
 
 " I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beershcba, and cry, ' Tis all 
 barren.'" STERNZ. 
 
 " Chacun a son stile ; le mien, comme vous voyez, n'est pas laconique." 
 ME. DE SEVIGNE. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET. 
 1838.
 
 
 [Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838,' by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York,]
 
 Far - 
 
 v,/ 
 
 TO O NE- 
 AT WHOSE SOLICITATION THESE VOLUMES WERE COM- 
 MENCED, AND WITH WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT 
 THEY HAVE BEEN COMPLETED 
 
 TO MY SISTER LUCY 
 
 ARE THEY AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 
 

 

 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 " He that writes 
 
 Or makes a feast, more certainly invites 
 His judges than his friends ; there's not a guest 
 But will find something wanting or ill dress'd." 
 
 IN laying before the majesty of the public a 
 couple of volumes like the present, it has become 
 customary for the author to disclaim in his preface 
 all original design of perpetrating a book, as if 
 there were even more than the admitted quantum 
 of sinfulness in the act. Whether or not such dis- 
 vowals now-a-day receive all the credence they 
 merit, is not for the writer to say ; and whether, 
 were the prefatory asseveration, as in the present 
 case, diametrically opposed to what it often is, the 
 reception would be different, is even more difficult 
 to predict. The articles imbodied in the following 
 volumes were, a portion of them, in their original, 
 hasty production, designed for the press ; yet the 
 author unites in the disavowal of his predecessors 
 of all intention at that time of perpetrating a book. 
 
 In the early summer of '36, when about starting 
 upon a ramble over the prairies of the " Far West," 
 in hope of renovating the energies of a shattered con- 
 stitution, a request was made of the writer, by the 
 distinguished editor of the Louisville Journal, to con- 
 
 VOL. I. A '
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 tribute to the columns of that periodical whatever, 
 in the course of his pilgrimage, might be deemed of 
 sufficient interest. A series of articles soon after 
 made their appearance in that paper under the title, 
 " Sketches of a Traveller.'' 1 They were, as their 
 name purports, mere sketches from a traveller's 
 portfeuille, hastily thrown upon paper whenever 
 time, place, or opportunity rendered convenient ; 
 in the steamboat saloon, the inn bar-room, the log- 
 cabin of the wilderness, or upon the venerable 
 mound of the Western prairie. With such fa- 
 vour were these hasty productions received, and so 
 extensively were they circulated, that the writer, 
 on returning from his pilgrimage to " the shrine of 
 health," was induced, by the solicitations of partial 
 friends, to enter at his leisure upon the preparation 
 for the press of a mass of MSS. of a similar char- 
 acter, written at the time, which had never been 
 published ; a thorough revision and enlargement 
 of that which had appeared, united with this, it was 
 thought, would furnish a passable volume or two 
 upon the " Far West." Two years of residence in 
 the West have since passed away ; and the ar- 
 rangement for the press of the fugitive sheets of a 
 wanderer's sketch-book would not yet, perhaps, 
 have been deemed of sufficient importance to war- 
 rant the necessary labour, had he not been daily re- 
 minded that his productions, whatever their merit, 
 were already public property so far as could be the 
 case, and at the mercy of every one who thought 
 proper to asume paternity. " Forbearance ceased to 
 be longer a virtue," and the result is now before the
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 reader. But, while alluding to that aid which his 
 labours may have rendered to others, the author 
 would not fail fully to acknowledge his own in 
 debtedness to those distinguished writers upon the 
 West who have preceded him. To Peck, Hall, 
 Flint, Wetmore, and to others, his acknowledg- 
 ments are due and are respectfully tendered. 
 
 In extenuation of the circumstance {hat some 
 portions of these volumes have already appeared, 
 though in a crude state, before the public, the au- 
 thor has but to suggest that many works, with 
 which the present will not presume to compare, 
 have made their debut on the unimposing pages of 
 a periodical. Not to dwell upon the writings of 
 Addison and Johnson, and other classics of British 
 literature, several of Bulwer's most polished pro- 
 ductions, the elaborate Essays of Elia, Wirt's Brit- 
 ish Spy, Hazlitt's Philosophical Reviews, Cole- 
 ridge's Friend, most of the novels of Captain Mar- 
 ryatt and Theodore Hook, and many of the most 
 elegant works of the day, have been prepared for 
 the pages of a magazine. 
 
 And now, with no slight misgiving, does the au- 
 thor commit his firstborn bantling to the tender 
 mercies of an impartial public. Criticism he does 
 not deprecate, still less does he brave it ; and far- 
 ther than either is he from soliciting undue favour. 
 Yet to the reader, as he grasps him by the hand in 
 parting, would he commit his book, with the quaint 
 injunction of a distinguished but eccentric old Eng- 
 lish writer upon an occasion somewhat similar : 
 
 " I exhort all people, gentle and simple, men,
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 women, and children, to buy, to read, to extol these 
 labours of mine. Let them not fear to defend every 
 article ; for I will bear them harmless. I have ar- 
 guments good store, and can easily confute, either 
 logically, theologically, or metaphysically, all those 
 who oppose me." 
 
 :,., E.P/ 
 
 New- York, Oct., 1838.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 i. -*? 
 
 The Western Steamboat-landing. Western Punctuality. An 
 Accident. Human Suffering. Desolation of Bereavement, 
 A Contrast. Sublimity. An Ohio Freshet. View of Louis- 
 ville. Early History. The Ohio Falls. Corn Island. The 
 Last Conflict Page 13-21 
 
 IL 
 
 The Early Morn. "Sleep no more !" The Ohio. "La Belle 
 Riviere." Ohio Islands. A Cluster at Sunset. "Ohio Hills." 
 The Emigrant's Clearing. Moonlight on the Ohio. A Sun- 
 set-scene. The Peaceful Ohio. The Gigantic Forest-trees. 
 The Bottom-lands. Obstructions to Navigation. Classifi- 
 cation. Removal. Dimensions of Snags. Peculiar difficulties 
 on the Ohio. Leaning Trees. Stone Dams. A Full Survey. 
 The Result . . . <; \ L:ua v L i '--.iLW- 1 . 21-28 
 
 III. 
 
 An Arrest. Drift-wood. Ohio Scenery. Primitive River-craft. 
 Early Scenes on the Western Waters. The Boatmen. 
 Life and Character. Annus Mirabilis. The Steam-engine in 
 the West. The Freshet. The Comet. The Earthquakes. 
 The first Steamboat. The Pinelore. The Steam-engine. 
 Prophecy of Darwin. Results. Sublimity. Villages. A new 
 Geology. Rivers. Islands. Forests. The Wabash and its 
 Banks. New Harmony. Site. Settlement. Edifices. Gar- 
 dens. Owen and the "Social System." Theory and Practice. 
 Mental Independence. Dissension. Abandonment. Shaw- 
 neetown. Early History. Settlement. Advancement. Site. 
 United States' Salines. Ancient Pottery . . 29-39 
 
 IV. 
 
 Geology of the Mississippi Valley. Ohio Cliffs. The Iron Coffin. 
 " Battery Rock."" Rock-Inn-Cave." Origin of Name. 
 A2
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 A Visit. Outlines and Dimensions. The Indian Manito. 
 Island opposite. The Freebooters. " The Outlaw." The 
 Counterfeiters. Their Fate. Ford and his Gang. Retributive 
 Justice. " Tower Rock." The Tradition. The Cave of Hie- 
 roglyphics. Islands. Golconda. The Cumberland. Aaron 
 Burr's Island. Paducah. Name. Ruins of Fort Massac. 
 The Legend. Wilkinsonville. The " Grand Chain." Cale- 
 donia. A Storm. Sunset. " The Meeting of the Waters." 
 Characteristics of the Rivers. " Willow Point." The place 
 of Meeting. Disappointment. A Utopian City. America 
 
 Page 40-50 
 
 V. 
 
 Darkness Visible. The " Father of Waters." The Power of 
 Steam. The Current." English Island." The Sabbath. A 
 Blessed Appointment. Its Quietude. The New-England Emi- 
 grant. His Privations. Sorrows. Loneliness. " The Light 
 of Home." Cape Girardeau. Site. Settlement. Effects of 
 the Earthquakes. A severer Shock. Staples of Trade. The 
 Spiral Water-wheels. Their Utility. " Tyowapity Bottom." 
 Potter's Clay. A Manufactory. Riviere au Vase. Salines. 
 Coal-beds. " Fountain Bluff." The "Grand Tower." 
 Parapet of Limestone. Ancient Cataract. The Cliffs. Di- 
 vinity of the Boatmen. The " Devil's Oven." The " Tea-ta- 
 ble." Volcanic and Diluvial Action. The Torrent overcome. 
 A Race. Breathless Interest. The Engineer. The Fire- 
 man. Last of the " Horse and Alligator" species. " Charon. "" 
 A Triumph. A Defeat 51-63 
 
 VI. 
 
 Navigation of the Mississippi. The First Appropriation. Im- 
 provements of Capt. Shreve. Mississippi and Ohio Scenery 
 contrasted. Alluvial Deposites. Ste. Genevieve. Origin. 
 Site. The Haunted Ruin. The old " Common Field." Inun- 
 dation of '85, Minerals. Quarries. Sand-caves. Fount- 
 ains. Salines. Indians. Ancient Remains. View of Ste. 
 Genevieve. Landing. Outrage of a Steamer. Indignation. 
 The Remedy. A Snag and a Scene. An interview with " Cha- 
 ron." Fort Chartres .-,.' t > 5T y. i ,.5./v. . 63-72 
 
 r
 
 CONTENTS. XI 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Hills ! the Hills ! Trosachs of Loch Katrine. Alluvial Ac- 
 tion. Bluffs of Selma and Herculaneum. Shot-towers. Nat- 
 ural Curiosities. The " Cornice Cliffs." The Merrimac. Its 
 Riches. Ancient Lilliputian Graves. Mammoth Remains. 
 Jefferson Barracks. Carondelet. Cahokia. U. S. Arsenal. 
 St. Louis in the Distance. Fine View. Uproar of the Landing. 
 The Eternal River. Character. Features. Sublimity. 
 Statistics. The Lower Mississippi. " Bends." " Cut-offs." 
 Land-slips. The Pioneer Cabin " ^' ; '.' C ."/ Pag 6 73-83 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Once more upon the Waters !" "Uncle Sam's Tooth-pullers." 
 Mode of eradicating a Snag. River Suburbs of North St. 
 Louis. Spanish Fortifications. The Waterworks. The An- 
 cient Mounds. Country Seats. The Confluence. Charlevoix's 
 Description. A Variance. A View. The Upper Mississippi^ 
 Alton in distant View. The Penitentiary and Churches. 
 " Pomp and Circumstance." The City of Alton. Advantages. 
 Objections. Improvements. Prospects. Liberality. Rail- 
 roads. Alton Bluffs." Departing Day." The Piasa Cliffs. 
 Moonlight Scene . . . . .,.-..:.-.... 84-93 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Coleur de Rose. The Piasa. The Indian Legend. Caverns. 
 Human Remains. The Illinois. Characteristic Features. 
 The Canal. The Banks and Bottoms. Poisonous Exhalations. 
 Scenes on the Illinois. The " Military Bounty Tract." Cap* 
 &u Gris. Old French Village. River Villages. Pekin. 
 "An Unco Sight." Genius of the Bacchanal. A "Monkey 
 Show." Nomenclature of Towns. The Indian Names 93-1 03 
 
 X. 
 
 An Emigrant Farmer. An Enthusiast. Peoria. The Old Village 
 and the New. Early History. Exile of the French. Fort 
 Clarke. Indian Hostilities. The Modern Village. Site. Ad- 
 vantages. Prospects. Lake Pinatahwee. Fish. The Bluffs 
 and Prairie. A Military Spectacle. The "Helen Mar." Hor- 
 rors of Steam! A Bivouac. The Dragoon Corps. Military
 
 Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 Courtesy. "Starved Rock." The Legend. Remains. 
 Shells. Intrenchments. Music. The Moonlight Serenade. 
 A Reminiscence . . ,. . B ,,,.-- . Page 104-114 
 
 XL 
 
 Delay. " A'Horse !" Early French Immigration in the West. 
 The Villages of the Wilderness. St. Louis. Venerable As- 
 pect. Site of the City. A French Village City. South St. 
 Louis. The Old Chateaux. The Founding of the City. The 
 Footprints in the Rock. The First House. Name of the City. 
 Decease of the Founders. Early Annals. Administration of 
 St. Ange. The Common Field. Cession and Recession. 
 "ISAnnee du Grand Coup." " U Annee des Grandes Eaux." 
 Keel-boat Commerce. The Robbers Culburt and Magilbray. 
 " IS Annee des Bateaux." The First Steamboat at St. Louis. 
 Wonder of the Indians. Opposition to Improvement. Plan 
 of St. Louis. A View. Spanish Fortifications. The Ancient 
 Mounds. Position. Number. Magnitude. Outlines. Ar- 
 rangement. Character. Neglect. Moral Interest. Origin. 
 The Argument of Analogy 114-133 
 
 XII. 
 
 View from the " Big Mound" at St. Louis. The Sand-bar. The 
 Remedy. The " Floating Dry-dock." The Western Suburbs. 
 Country Seats. Game. Lakes. Public Edifices. Catho- 
 lic Religion. " Cathedral of St. Luke." Site. Dimensions. 
 Peal of Bells. Porch. The Interior. Columns. Window 
 Transparencies. The Effect. The Sanctuary. Galleries. 
 Altar-piece. Altar and Tabernacle. Chapels. Paintings. 
 Lower Chapel. St. Louis University. Medical School. The 
 Chapel. Paintings. Library. Ponderous Volumes. Philo- 
 sophical Apparatus. The Pupils .... 134-142 
 
 xpi. 
 
 An Excursion of Pleasure. A fine Afternoon. Our Party. 
 The Bridal Pair. South St. Louis. Advantages for Manufac- 
 tures. Quarries. Farmhouses. The "Eagle Powder-works." 
 Explosion. The Bride. A Steeple-chase. A Descent. 
 The Arsenal. Grounds. Structures. Esplanade. Ordnance. 
 Warlike Aspect. Carondelet. Sleepy-Hollow. River-
 
 CONTENTS. Xlll 
 
 reach. Time Departed. Inhabitants. Structures. Gardens. 
 Orchards. Cabarets. The Catholic Church. Altar-piece. 
 Paintings. Missal. Crucifix. Evergreens. Deaf and 
 Dumb Asylum. Distrust of Villagers. Jefferson Barracks. 
 Site. Extent. Buildings. View from the Terrace. The Bu- 
 rial Grounds. The Cholera. Design of the Barracks. Corps 
 de Reserve. A remarkable Cavern. Our Guide. Situation of 
 Cave. Entrance. Exploration. Grotesque Shapes. A Foot. 
 Boat. Coffin in Stone. The Bats. Riviere des Peres. 
 An ancient Cemetery. Antiquities. The Jesuit Settlers. Sul- 
 phur Spring. A Cavern. A Ruin . . Page 143-153 
 
 XIV. 
 
 City and Country at Midsummer. Cosmorama of St. Louis. The 
 American Bottom. Cahokia Creek. A Pecan Grove. The 
 Ancient Mounds. First Group. Number. Resemblance. 
 Magnitude. Outline. Railroad to the Bluffs. Pittsburg. 
 The Prairie. Landscape. The "Cantine Mounds." "Monk 
 Hill." First Impressions. Origin. The Argument. Work- 
 manship of Man. Reflections suggested. Our Memory. The 
 Craving of the Heart. The Pyramid-builders. The Mound- 
 builders. A hopeless Aspiration. " Keep the Soul embalmed" 
 
 154-162 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Antiquity of Monk Mound. Primitive Magnitude. Fortifi- 
 cations of the Revolution. The Ancient Population. Two 
 Cities. Design of the Mounds. The " Cantine Mounds." 
 Number. Size. Position. Outline. Features of Monk 
 Mound. View from the Summit. Prairie. Lakes. Groves. 
 Bluffs. Cantine Creek. St. Louis in distance. Neighbour- 
 ing Earth-heaps. The Well. Interior of the Mound. The 
 Monastery of La Trappe. Abbe Armand Ranee. The Vows- 
 A Quotation. Reign of Terror. Immigration of the Trap- 
 pists. Their Buildings. Their Discipline. Diet. Health. 
 Skill. Asylum Seminary. Worldly Charity. Palliation. A 
 strange Spectacle . .-'.'' -P ''V~ : . 163-174
 
 XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Edwardsville. Site and Buildings. Land Mania. A " Down- 
 east" Incident. Human Nature. The first Land Speculator. 
 Castor-oil Manufacture. Outlines of Edwardsville. Collins- 
 ville. Route to Alton. Sultriness. The Alton Bluffs. A 
 Panorama. Earth-heaps. Indian Graves. Upper Alton. 
 Shurtliff College. Baptized Intelligence. Knowledge not 
 Conservative. Greece. Rome. France. England. The 
 Remedy .'> Page 174-185 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Traveller's Whereabout. The Prairie in a Mist. Sense of 
 Loneliness. The Backwoods Farmhouse. Structure. Out- 
 line. Western Roads. A New-England Emigrant. The 
 " Barrens." Origin, of Name. Soil. The "Sink-holes." 
 The Springs. Similar in Missouri and Florida. " Fount of Re- 
 juvenescence." Ponce de Leon. " Sappho's Fount." The 
 Prairies. First View. The Grass. Flowers. Island-groves. 
 A Contrast. Prairie-farms. A Buck and Doe. A Kentucky 
 Pioneer. Events of Fifty Years. The " Order Tramontane." 
 Expedition of Gov. Spotswood. The Change. A Thunder- 
 storm on the Prairies. " A Sharer in the Tempest." Discre- 
 tionary Valour 186-198 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Morning after the Storm. The Landscape. The sprinkled 
 Groves. Nature in unison with the Heart. The Impress of De- 
 sign. Contemplation of grand Objects elevates. Nature and 
 the Savage. Nature and Nature's God. Earth praises God. 
 Indifference and Ingratitude of Man. " All is very Good." In- 
 fluence of Scenery upon Character. The Swiss Mountaineer. 
 Bold Scenery most Impressive. Freedom among the Alps. 
 Caucasus. Himmalaya. Something to Love. Carlinville. 
 "Grand Menagerie." A Scene. The Soil. The Inn. Ma- 
 coupin Creek. Origin of Name. A Vegetable. An Indian 
 Luxury. Carlinville. Its Advantages and Prospects. A 
 " Fourth- of- July" Oration. The thronging. Multitudes. The 
 huge Cart. A Thunder-storm. A Log-cabin. Women and 
 Children. Outlines of the Cabin. The Roof and Floor. The 
 Furniture and Dinner-pot. A Choice of Evils. The Pathless 
 Prairie . 199-211
 
 - CONTENTS. XV 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Ponce de Leon. The Fount of Youth. The " Land of Flowers." 
 Ferdinand de Soto. " El Padre de los Aguas." The Cana- 
 dian Voyageurs. "La Belle Riviere." Sieur La Salle. "A 
 Terrestrial Paradise." Daniel Boone. " Old Kentucke." 
 "The Pilgrim from the North." Sabbath Morning. The 
 Landscape. The Grass and Prairie-flower. Nature at Rest. 
 Sabbath on the Prairie. Alluvial Aspect of the Prairies. 
 The Soil Lakes. Fish. The Annual Fires. Origin. A 
 Mode of Hunting. Captain Smith. Mungo Park. Hillsbor- 
 ough. Major-domo of the Hostelrie. His Garb and Propor- 
 tions. The Presbyterian Church. Picturesqueness. " The 
 " Luteran Church." Practical Utility. The Dark Minister. 
 A Mistake. The Patriotic Dutchman. A Veritable Publican. 
 Prospects of Hillsborough. A Theological Seminary. Route 
 to Vandalia. The Political Sabbath . . Page 212-220 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Race of Vagabonds. "Yankee Enterprise." The Virginia 
 Emigrant. The Western Creeks and Bridges. An Adventure 
 in Botany. Unnatural Rebellion. Christian Retaliation. 
 Vandalia." First Impressions." The Patriotic Bacchanal. 
 The High-priest. A Distinction Unmerited. The Cause. 
 Vandalia. Situation. Public Edifices. Square. Church. 
 Bank. Land-office. " Illinois Magazine." Tardy Growth. 
 Removal of Government. Adventures of the First Legislators. 
 The Northern Frontier. Magic of Sixteen Years. Route to 
 Carlisle. A Buck and Doe. An old Hunter. " Hurricane 
 Bottom." Night on the Prairies. The Emigrant's Bivouac. 
 The Prairie-grass. Carlisle. Site. Advantages. Growth. 
 "Mound Farm" . /: -n i: '. : . . v . ., . . 221-232 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Love of Nature. Its Delights. The Wanderer's Reflec- 
 tions. The Magic Hour. A Sunset on the Prairies. " The 
 Sunny Italy." The Prairie Sunset. Route to Lebanon. Sil- 
 ver Creek. Origin of Name. The " Looking-glass Prairie." 
 The Methodist Village. Farms. Country Seats. Maize-fields. 
 Herds. M'Kendreean College." The Seminary !" Route 
 to Belleville. The Force of Circumstance. A Contrast. Pub-
 
 XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 lie Buildings. A lingering Look. Route to St. Louis. The 
 French Village. The Coal Bluffs. Discovery of Coal. St. 
 Clair County. Home of Clouds. Realm of Thunder. San 
 Louis . . . . , * : -j>s r " Page 233-242 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Single Blessedness. Text and Comment. En Route. North St. 
 Louis. A Delightful Drive. A Delightful Farm-cottage. The 
 Catholic University. A Stately Villa. Belle Fontaine. A 
 Town-plat. A View of the Confluence. The Human Tooth. 
 The Hamlet of Florissant. Former Name. Site. Buildings. 
 Church. Seminary. Tonish. Owen's Station. Scenery 
 upon the Route. La Charbonniere. The Missouri Bottom. 
 The Forest-Colonnade. The Missouri. Its Sublimity. In- 
 dian Names. Its turbid Character. Cause. An Inexplicable 
 Phenomenon. Theories. Navigation Dangerous. Floods of 
 the Missouri. Alluvions. Sources of the Missouri and Colum- 
 bia. Their Destinies. Human Life. The Ocean of Eternity. 
 Gates of the Rocky Mountains. Sublimity. A Cataract. 
 The Main Stream. Claims stated , 243-254 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 102, one line from the top, for Bacchanalia, read Bacchanal. 
 " 120, two lines from bot., for Grand, " Grandes. 
 
 121, thirteen " " " 1817, " 1814. 
 
 140, five " " " Louis XVIII. " Louis XVI. 
 158, seventeen " " " Sumac, " Sumach. 
 
 " 212, foot-note, for Pasqua de Flares, read Pasqua Florida. 
 " 241, five lines from bottom, erase first. 
 
 f
 
 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 " I do remember me, that, in my youth, 
 When I was wandering " 
 
 MANFRED. 
 
 
 IT was a bright morning in the early days of 
 " leafy June." Many a month had seen me a wan- 
 derer from distant New-England ; and now I found 
 myself " once more upon the waters," embarked 
 for a pilgrimage over the broad prairie-plains of 
 the sunset West. A drizzly, miserable rain had 
 for some days been hovering, with proverbial per- 
 tinacity, over the devoted " City of the Falls," and 
 still, at intervals, came lazily pattering down from 
 the sunlighted clouds, reminding one of a hoiden 
 girl smiling through a shower of April tear-drops, 
 while the quay continued to exhibit all that wild 
 uproar and tumult, "confusion worse confound- 
 ed," which characterizes the steamboat commerce 
 of the Western Valley. The landing at the time 
 was thronged with steamers, and yet the inces- 
 sant "boom, boom, boom," of the high-pressure 
 engines, the shrill hiss of scalding steam, and the 
 fitful port-song of the negro firemen rising ever 
 and anon upon f the breeze, gave notice of a con. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 14 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 slant augmentation to the number. Some, too 7 
 were getting under way, and their lower guards 
 were thronged by emigrants with their household 
 and agricultural utensils. Drays were rattling 
 hither and thither over the rough pavement ; Irish 
 porters were cracking their whips and roaring 
 forth alternate staves of blasphemy and song ; clerks 
 hurrying to and fro, with fluttering note- books, in 
 all the fancied dignity of " brief authority ;" hack- 
 ney-coaches dashing down to the water's edge, ap- 
 parently with no motive to the nervous man but 
 noise ; while at intervals, as if to fill up the pauses 
 of the Babel, some incontinent steamer would hurl 
 forth from the valves of her overcharged boilers 
 one of those deafening, terrible blasts, echoing and 
 re-echoing along the river-banks, and streets, and 
 among the lofty buildings, till the very welkin rang 
 again. 
 
 To one who has never visited the public wharves 
 of the great cities of the West, it is no trivial task 
 to convey an adequate idea of the spectacle they 
 present. The commerce of the Eastern seaports 
 and that of the Western Valley are utterly dissim- 
 ilar ; not more in the staples of intercourse than 
 in the mode in which it is conducted ; and, were 
 one desirous of exhibiting to a friend from the At- 
 lantic shore a picture of the prominent features 
 which characterize commercial proceedings upon 
 the Western waters, or, indeed, of Western charac- 
 ter in its general outline, at a coup cF(Eil, he could 
 do no better than to place him in the wild uproar of 
 the steamboat quay. Amid the " crowd, the hum,
 
 THE FAR WEST. 15 
 
 the shock" of such a scene stands out Western pe- 
 culiarity in all its stern proportion. 
 
 Steamers on the great waters of the West are 
 well known to indulge no violently conscientious 
 scruples upon the subject of punctuality, and a soli- 
 tary exception at our behest, or in our humble be- 
 half, was, to be sure, not an event to be counted 
 on. " There's dignity in being waited for ;" hour 
 after hour, therefore, still found us and left us amid 
 the untold scenes and sounds of the public landing. 
 It is true, and to the unending honour of all con- 
 cerned be it recorded, very true it is our doughty 
 steamer ever and anon would puff and blow like a 
 porpoise or a narwhal ; and then would she swel- 
 ter from every pore and quiver in every limb with 
 the ponderous labouring of her huge enginery, and 
 the steam would shrilly whistle and shriek like a 
 spirit in its confinement, till at length she united 
 her whirlwind voice to the general roar around ; 
 and all this indicated, indubitably, an intention to 
 be off and away ; but a knowing one was he who 
 could determine the when. 
 
 Among the causes of our wearisome detention 
 was one of a nature too melancholy, too painful- 
 ly interesting lightly to be alluded to. Endeav- 
 ouring to while away the tedium of delay, I was 
 pacing leisurely back and forth upon the guard, sur- 
 veying the lovely scenery of the opposite shore, 
 and the neat little houses of the village sprinkled 
 upon the plain beyond, when a wild, piercing shriek 
 struck upon my ear. I was hurrying immediately 
 forward to the spot whence it seemed to proceed,
 
 16 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 when I was intercepted by some of our boat's crew 
 bearing a mangled body. It was that of our sec- 
 ond engineer, a fine, laughing young fellow, who 
 had been terribly injured by becoming entangled 
 with the fly-wheel of the machinery while in mo- 
 tion. He was laid upon the passage floor. I 
 stood at his head ; and never, I think, shall I forget 
 those convulsed and agonized features. His coun- 
 tenance was ghastly and livid ; beaded globules 
 of cold sweat started out incessantly upon his pale 
 brow ; and, in the paroxysms of pain, his dark eye 
 would flash, his nostril dilate, and his lips quiv- 
 er so as to expose the teeth gnashing in a fear- 
 ful manner ; while a muttered execration, dying 
 away from exhaustion, caused us all to shudder. 
 And then that wild despairing roll of the eyeball 
 in its socket as the miserable man would glance 
 hurriedly around upon the countenances of the by- 
 standers, imploring them, in utter helplessness, to 
 lend him relief. Ah ! it is a fearful thing to look 
 upon these strivings of humanity in the iron grasp 
 of a power it may in vain resist ! From the quan- 
 tity of blood thrown off, the oppressive fulness of 
 the chest, and the difficult respiration, some serious 
 pulmonary injury had evidently been sustained ; 
 while a splintered clavicle and limbs shockingly 
 shattered racked the poor sufferer with anguish in- 
 expressible. It was evident he believed himself 
 seriously injured, for at times he would fling out his 
 arms, beseeching those around him to " hold him 
 back," as if even then he perceived the icy grasp 
 of the death angel creeping over his frame.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 17 
 
 Perhaps I have devoted more words to the de- 
 tail of this melancholy incident than would other- 
 wise have been the case, on account of the interest 
 which some circumstances in the sufferer's histo- 
 ry, subsequently received from the captain of our 
 steamer, inspired. 
 
 " Frank, poor fellow," said the captain, " was a 
 native of Ohio, th son of a lone woman, a widow. 
 He was all her hope, and to his exertions she was 
 indebted for a humble support." 
 
 Here, then, were circumstances to touch the sym- 
 pathies of any heart possessed of but a tithe of the 
 nobleness of our nature ; and I could not but re- 
 flect, as they were recounted, how like the breath 
 of desolation the first intelligence of her son's fear- 
 ful end must sweep over the spirit of this lonely 
 widow ; for, like the wretched Constance, she can 
 " never, never behold him more." 
 
 " Her life, her joy, her food, her all the world ! 
 Her widow- comfort, and her sorrow's cure !" 
 
 While indulging in these sad reflections a gay 
 burst of music arrested my attention ; and, looking 
 up, I perceived the packet-boat " Lady Marshall" 
 dropping from her mooring at the quay, her decks 
 swarming with passengers, and under high press 
 of steam, holding her bold course against the cur- 
 rent, while the merry dashing of the wheels, ming- 
 ling with the wild clang of martial music, imparted 
 an air almost of romance to the scene. How 
 strangely did this contrast with that misery from 
 which my eye had just turned ! 
 
 There are few objects more truly grand I had 
 B 2
 
 18 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 almost said sublime than a powerful steamer 
 struggling triumphantly with the rapids of the 
 Western waters. The scene has in it a something 
 of that power which we feel upon us in viewing a 
 ship under full sail ; and, in some respects, there is 
 more of the sublime in the humbler triumph of man 
 over the elements than in that more vast. Sub- 
 limity is a result, not merely of massive, extended, 
 unmeasured greatness, but oftener, and far more 
 impressively, does the sentiment arise from a com- 
 bination of vast and powerful objects. The mighty 
 stream rolling its volumed floods through half a 
 continent, and hurrying onward to mingle its full 
 tide with the " Father of Waters," is truly sublime ; 
 its resistless power is sublime ; the memory of its 
 by-gone scenes, and the venerable moss-grown for- 
 ests on its banks, are sublime ; and, lastly, the no- 
 ble fabric of man's workmanship struggling and 
 groaning in convulsed, triumphant effort to over- 
 come the resistance offered, completes a picture 
 which demands not the heaving ocean-waste and 
 the " oak leviathan" to embellish. 
 
 It was not until the afternoon was far advanced 
 that we found ourselves fairly embarked. A rapid 
 freshet had within a few hours swollen the tran- 
 quil Ohio far beyond its ordinary volume and ve- 
 locity, and its turbid waters were rolling onward 
 between the green banks, bearing on their bosom 
 all the varied spoils of their mountain-home, and 
 of the rich region through which they had been 
 flowing. The finest site from which to view the 
 city we found to be the channel of the Falls upon 
 the Indiana side of the stream, caKed the Indian
 
 THE FAR WEST. 19 
 
 chute, to distinguish it from two others, called the 
 Middle chute and the Kentucky chute. The pros- 
 pect from this point is noble, though the uniformity 
 of the structures, the fewness of the spires, the un- 
 imposing character of the public edifices, and the 
 depression of the site upon which the city stands, 
 give to it a monotonous, perhaps a lifeless aspect 
 to the stranger. 
 
 It was in the year 1778 that a settlement was 
 first commenced upon the spot on which the fair 
 city of Louisville now stands. In the early spring 
 of that year, General George Rodgers Clarke, 
 under authority of the State of Virginia, descended 
 the Ohio with several hundred men, with the de- 
 sign of reducing the military posts of Kaskaskia, 
 Cahokia, and Fort Vincent, then held by British 
 troops. Disembarking upon Corn Island at the 
 Falls of the Ohio, opposite the present city, land 
 sufficient for the support of six families, which were 
 left, was cleared and planted with corn. From 
 this circumstance the island received a name which 
 it yet retains. General Clarke proceeded upon his 
 expedition, and, in the autumn returning success- 
 ful, the emigrants were removed to the main land, 
 and a settlement was commenced where Louisville 
 now stands. During the few succeeding years, 
 other families from Virginia settled upon the spot, 
 and in the spring of 1780 seven stations were 
 formed upon Beargrass Creek, which here empties 
 into the Mississippi, and Louisville commenced its 
 march to its present importance. 
 
 The view of the city from the Falls, as I have 
 remarked, is n*5t at all imposing ; the view of the
 
 20 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Falls from the city, on the contrary, is one of beauty 
 and romance. They are occasioned by a parapet 
 of limestone extending quite across the stream, 
 which is here about one mile in width ; and when 
 the water is low the whole chain sparkles with 
 bubbling foam-bells. When the stream is full the 
 descent is hardly perceptible but for the increased 
 rapidity of the current, which varies from ten to 
 fourteen miles an hour.* Owing to the height of 
 the freshet, this was the case at the time when we 
 descended them, and there was a wild air of ro- 
 mance about the dark rushing waters : and the 
 green woodlands upon either shore, overshadowed 
 as they were by the shifting light and shade of the 
 flitting clouds, cast over the scene a bewitching 
 fascination. " Corn Island" with its legendary as- 
 sociations, rearing its dense clump of foliage as 
 from the depths of the stream, was not the least 
 beautiful object of the panorama ; while the rece- 
 ding city, with its smoky roofs, its bustling quay, 
 and the glitter and animation of an extended line 
 of steamers, was alone necessary to fill up a scene 
 for a limner.f And our steamer swept onward 
 
 * It is only at high stages of the river that boats even of a 
 smaller class can pass over the Falls. At other times they go 
 through the " Louisville and Portland Canal," for an interesting 
 description of which, see Appendix. 
 
 t A circumstance, too, which adds not a little of interest to the 
 spot, is the old Indian tradition that here was fought the last battle 
 between their race and the former dwellers in Kentucky the 
 white mound-builders in which the latter were exterminated to a 
 man. True or false, vast quantities of human remains have, at 
 low stages of the Ohio, been found upon the shores of Sandy Isl- 
 and, one mile below, and an extensive graveyard once existed in, 
 the vicinity of Shipping-port.
 
 THE PAR WEST. 21 
 
 over the rapids, and threaded their maze of beau- 
 tiful islands, and passed along the little villages at 
 their foot and the splendid steamers along their 
 shore, till twilight had faded, and the dusky mantle 
 of departed day was flung over forest and stream. 
 Ohio River. 
 
 II. 
 
 " How beautiful is this visible world ! 
 How glorious in its action and itself!" 
 
 MANFRED. 
 
 " The woods oh ! solemn are the boundless woods 
 Of the great Western World when day declines, 
 And louder sounds the roll of distant floods." 
 
 HEMANS. 
 
 LONG before the dawn on the morning succeed- 
 ing our departure we were roused from our rest 
 by the hissing of steam and the rattling of machin- 
 ery as our boat moved slowly out from beneath the 
 high banks and lofty sycamores of the river-side, 
 where she had in safety been moored for the night, 
 to resume her course. Withdrawing the curtain 
 from the little rectangular window of my state- 
 room, the dark shadow of the forest was slumber- 
 ing in calm magnificence upon the waters ; and 
 glancing upward my eye, the stars were beaming 
 out in silvery brightness ; while all along the east- 
 ern horizon, where 
 
 " The gray coursers of the morn 
 Beat up the light with their bright silver hoof* 
 And drive it through the sky,"
 
 22 THE FAR T - V BST. 
 
 rested a broad, low zone of clear heaven, proclaim- 
 ing the coming of a glorious dawn. The hated 
 clang of the bell-boy was soon after heard resound- 
 ing far and wide in querulous and deafening clam- 
 our throughout the cabins, vexing the dull ear of 
 every drowsy man in the terrible language of 
 Macbeth's evil conscience, " sleep no more !" In 
 a very desperation of self-defence I arose. The 
 mists of night had not yet wholly dispersed, and 
 the rack and fog floated quietly upon the placid 
 bosom of the stream, or ascended in ragged masses 
 from the dense foliage upon its banks. All this 
 melted gently away like '* the baseless fabric of a 
 vision," and " the beauteous eye of day" burst forth 
 in splendour, lighting up a scene of unrivalled love- 
 liness. 
 
 Much, very much has been written of " the beau- 
 tiful Ohio ;" the pens of an hundred tourists have 
 sketched its quiet waters and its venerable groves ; 
 but there is in its noble scenery an ever salient 
 freshness, which no description, however varied, 
 can exhaust ; new beauties leap forth to the eye of 
 the man of sensibility, and even an humble pen may 
 not fail to array them in the drapery of their own 
 loveliness. There are in this beautiful stream fea- 
 tures peculiar to itself, which distinguish it from 
 every other that we have seen or of which we have 
 read ; features which render it truly and emphati* 
 cally sui generis. It is not " the blue-rushing of 
 the arrowy Rhone," with castled crags and frown- 
 ing battlements ; it is not the dark-rolling Danube, 
 shadowy with the legend of departed time, upon 
 whose banks armies have met and battled ; it is not
 
 THE FAR WEST, 23 
 
 the lordly Hudson, roaming in beauty through the 
 ever-varying romance of the Catskill Highlands ; 
 nor is it the gentle wave of the soft- flowing Connec- 
 ticut, seeming almost to sleep as it glides through 
 the calm, " happy valley" of New-England : but 
 it is that noble stream, bounding forth, like a young 
 warrior of the wilderness, in all the joyance of early 
 vigour, from the wild twin-torrents of the hills ; 
 rolling onward through a section of country the 
 glory of a new world, and over the wooded heights 
 of whose banks has rushed full many a crimson 
 tide of Indian massacre. Ohio,* "The River of 
 Blood" was its fearfully significant name from the 
 aboriginal native ; La Belle Riviere was its eu- 
 phonious distinction from the simple Canadian voy- 
 ageur, whose light pirogue first glided on its blue 
 bosom. " The Beautiful River !" it is no misno- 
 mer from its earliest commencement to the broad 
 embouchure into the turbid floods of the Mississippi, 
 it unites every combination of scenic loveliness 
 which even the poet's sublimated fancy could de- 
 mand. Now it sweeps along beneath its lofty 
 blufls in the conscious grandeur of resistless might ; 
 and then its clear, transparent waters glide in un- 
 dulating ripples over the shelly bottoms and among 
 the pebbly heaps of the white-drifted sand-bars, or 
 in the calm magnificence of their eternal wandering, 
 
 " To the gentle woods all night 
 Sing they a sleepy tune." 
 
 From either shore streams of singular beauty 
 and euphonious names come pouring in their trib- 
 
 * Kcntucfo is said to have a similar meaning.
 
 24 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 lite through the deep foliage of the fertile bot- 
 toms ; while the swelling, volumed outlines of the 
 banks, piled up with ponderous verdure rolling 
 and heaving in the river-breeze like life, recur in 
 such grandeur and softness, and such ever-varying 
 combinations of beauty, as to destroy every ap- 
 proach to monotonous effect. From the source of 
 the Ohio to its outlet its waters imbosom more 
 than an hundred islands, some of such matchless 
 loveliness that it is worthy of remark that such 
 slight allusion has been made to them in the nu- 
 merous pencillings of Ohio scenery. In the fresh, 
 early summer-time, when the deep green of vegeta- 
 tion is in its luxuriance, they surely constitute the 
 most striking feature of the river. Most of them 
 are densely wooded to the water's edge ; and the 
 wild vines and underbrush suspended lightly over 
 the waters are mirrored in their bosom or swept 
 by the current into attitudes most graceful and 
 picturesque. In some of those stretched-out, end- 
 less reaches which are constantly recurring, they 
 seem bursting up like beautiful bouquets of sprin- 
 kled evergreens from the placid stream ; rounded 
 and swelling, as if by the teachings of art, on the 
 blue bosom of the waters. A cluster of these " isles 
 of light" I well remember, which opened upon us 
 the eve of the second day of our passage. Two 
 of the group were exceedingly small, mere points 
 of a deeper shade in the reflecting azure ; while 
 the third, lying between the former, stretched itself 
 far away in a narrow, well-defined strip of foliage, 
 like a curving gash in the surface^ parallel to the
 
 THE FAR WEST. 25 
 
 shore ; and over the lengthened vista of the waters 
 gliding between, the giant branches bowed them- 
 selves, and wove their mingled verdure into an im- 
 mense Gothic arch, seemingly of interminable ex- 
 tent, but closed at last by a single speck of crimson 
 skylight beyond. Throughout its whole course 
 the Ohio is fringed with wooded bluffs ; now tow- 
 ering in sublime majesty hundreds of feet from the 
 bed of the rolling stream, and anon sweeping inland 
 for miles, and rearing up those eminences so singu- 
 larly beautiful, appropriately termed " Ohio hills," 
 while their broad alluvial plains in the interval 
 betray, by their enormous vegetation, a fertility 
 exhaustless and unrivalled. Here and there along 
 the green bluffs is caught a glimpse of the emigrant's 
 low log cabin peeping out to the eye from the dark 
 foliage, sometimes when miles in the distance ; 
 while the rich maize-fields of the bottoms, the gir- 
 dled forest-trees, and the lowing kine betray the ad- 
 vance of civilized existence. But if the scenes of 
 the Ohio are beautiful beneath the broad glare of 
 morning sunlight, what shall sketch their linea- 
 ments when the coarser etchings of the picture are 
 mellowed down by the balmy effulgence of the 
 midnight moon of summer ! When her floods of 
 light are streaming far and wide along the magnif- 
 icent forest-tops ! When all is still still ! and sky, 
 and eaith, and wood, and stream are hushed as a 
 spirit's breathing ! When thought is almost au- 
 dible, and memory is busy with the past ! When 
 the distant bluffs, bathed in molten silver, gleam 
 like beacon-lights, and the far-off vistas of the 
 VOL. I. C
 
 26 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 meandering waters are flashing with the sheen of 
 their ripples ! When you glide through the end- 
 less maze, and the bright islets shift, and vary, and 
 pass away in succession like pictures of the ka- 
 leidoscope before your eye ! When imagination is 
 awake and flinging forth her airy fictions, bodies 
 things unseen, and clothes reality in loveliness not 
 of earth ! When a scene like this is developed, 
 what shall adequately depict it ? Not the pen. 
 
 Such, such is the beautiful Ohio in the soft days 
 of early summer ; and though hackneyed may be 
 the theme of its loveliness, yet, as the dying glories 
 of a Western sunset flung over the landscape the 
 mellow tenderness of its parting smile, " fading, still 
 fading, as the day was declining," till night's dusky 
 mantle had wrapped the " woods on shore" and the 
 quiet stream from the eye, I could not, even at the 
 hazard of triteness, resist an inclination to fling upon 
 the sheet a few hurried lineaments of Nature's 
 beautiful creations. 
 
 There is not a stream upon the continent which, 
 for the same distance, rolls onward so calmly, and 
 smoothly, and peacefully as the Ohio. Danger 
 rarely visits its tranquil bosom, except from the 
 storms of heaven or the reckless folly of man, and 
 hardly a river in the world can vie with it in safe- 
 ty, utility, or beauty. Though subject to rapid and 
 great elevations and depressions, its current is gen- 
 erally uniform, never furious. The forest-trees 
 which skirt its banks are the largest in North 
 America, while the variety is endless ; several syc- 
 amores were pointed out to us upon the shores 
 from thirty to fifty feet in circumference. Its al-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 27 
 
 luvial bottoms are broad, deep, and exhaustlessly 
 fertile ; its bluffs are often from three to four hun- 
 dred feet in height ; its breadth varies from one 
 mile to three, and its navigation, since the improve- 
 ments commenced, under the authority of Congress, 
 by the enterprising Shreve, has become safe and 
 easy. The classification of obstructions is the fol- 
 lowing : snags, trees anchored by their roots ; frag- 
 ments of trees of various forms and magnitude ; 
 wreck-heaps, consisting of several of these stumps, 
 and logs, and branches of trees lodged in one place ; 
 rocks, which have rolled from the cliffs, and vary- 
 ing from ten to one hundred cubic feet in size ; and 
 sunken boats, principally flat-boats laden with coal. 
 The last remains one of the most serious obstacles 
 to the navigation of the Ohio. Many steamers 
 have been damaged by striking the wrecks of the 
 Baltimore, the Roanoke, the William Hulburt, 
 and other craft, which were themselves snagged ; 
 while keel and flat-boats without number have been 
 lost from the same cause.* Several thousands of 
 the obstacles mentioned have been removed since 
 improvements were commenced, and accidents 
 from this cause are now less frequent. Some of 
 the snags torn up from the bed of the stream, where 
 they have probably for ages been buried, are said 
 to have exceeded a diameter of six feet at the root, 
 and were upward of an hundred feet in length. The 
 removal of these obstructions on the Ohio presents 
 a difficulty and expense not encountered upon the 
 Mississippi. In the latter stream, the root of the 
 enag, when eradicated, is deposited in some deep 
 
 * The keel-boat Hindoo, with merchandise to the amount of 
 $50,000, is a late instance.
 
 28 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 pool or bayou along the banks, and immediately 
 imbeds itself in alluvial deposite ; but on the Ohio, 
 owing to the nature of its banks in most of its 
 course, there is no opportunity for such a disposal, 
 and the boatmen are forced to blast the logs with 
 gunpowder to prevent them from again forming ob- 
 structions. The cutting down and clearing away 
 of all leaning and fallen trees from the banks con- 
 stitutes an essential feature in the scheme of im- 
 provement ; since the facts are well ascertained 
 that trees seldom plant themselves far from the 
 spot where they fall ; and that, when once under the 
 power of the current, they seldom anchor themselves 
 and form snags. The policy of removing the lean- 
 ing and fallen trees is, therefore, palpable, since* 
 when this is once thoroughly accomplished, no ma- 
 terial for subsequent formation can exist. The 
 construction of stone dams, by which to concen- 
 trate into a single channel all the waters of the 
 river, where they are divided by islands, or from 
 other causes are spread over a broad extent, is an- 
 other operation now in execution. The dams at 
 " Brown's Island," the shoalest point on the Ohio, 
 have been so eminently successful as fully to es- 
 tablish the efficiency of the plan. Several other 
 works of a similar character are proposed ; a full 
 survey of the stream, hydrographical and topo- 
 graphical, is recommended; and, when all im- 
 provements are completed, it is believed that the 
 navigation of the " beautiful Ohio" will answer 
 every purpose of commerce and the traveller, from 
 its source to its mouth, at the lowest stages of the 
 
 water * t!i ' c 
 
 Ohio River.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 29 
 
 III. 
 
 " The sure traveller, 
 Though he alight sometimes, still goeth on." 
 
 HERBERT. 
 
 "A RACK 
 
 Now like autumnal leaves before the blast 
 Wide scattered." 
 
 SPKA.GUK. 
 
 THUMP, thump, crash ! One hour longer, and I 
 *was at length completely roused from a troublous 
 slumber by our boat coming to a dead stop. Cast- 
 ing a glance from the window, the bright flashing 
 of moonlight showed the whole surface of the stream 
 covered with drift-wood, and, on inquiry, I learned 
 that the branches of an enormous oak, some sixty 
 feet in length, had become entangled with one of 
 the paddle-wheels of our steamer, and forbade all 
 advance. 
 
 We were soon once more in motion ; the morn- 
 ing mists were dispersing, the sun rose up behind 
 the forests, and his bright beams danced lightly 
 over the gliding waters. We passed many pleas- 
 ant little villages along the banks, and it was de- 
 lightful to remove from the noise, and heat, and 
 confusion below to the lofty hurricane deck, and 
 lounge away hour after hour in gazing upon the 
 varied and beautiful scenes which presented them- 
 selves in constant succession to the eye. Now 
 we were gliding quietly on through the long island 
 C2
 
 80 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 chutes, where the daylight was dim, and the enor- 
 mous forest-trees bowed themselves over us, and 
 echoed from their still recesses the roar of our 
 steam-pipe ; then we were sweeping rapidly over 
 the broad reaches of the stream, miles in extent ; 
 again we were winding through the mazy laby- 
 rinth of islets which fleckered the placid surface 
 of the stream, and from time to time we passed the 
 lonely cabin of the emigrant beneath the venerable 
 and aged sycamores. Here and there, as we glided 
 on, we met some relic of those ancient and prim- 
 itive species of river-craft which once assumed 
 ascendency over the waters of the West, but which 
 are now superseded by steam, and are of too in- 
 frequent occurrence not to be objects of peculiar 
 interest. In the early era of the navigation of the 
 Ohio, the species of craft in use were numberless, 
 and many of them of a most whimsical and amusing 
 description. The first was the barge, sometimes 
 of an hundred tons' burden, which required twenty 
 men to force it up against the current a distance of 
 six or seven miles a day ; next the keel-boat, of 
 smaller size and lighter structure, yet in use for 
 the purposes of inland commerce ; then the Ken- 
 tucky flat, or broad-horn of the emigrant ; the enor- 
 mous ark, in magnitude and proportion approxi- 
 mating to that of the patriarch ; the fairy pirogue 
 of the French voyageur ; the birch caique of the 
 Indian, and log skiffs, gondolas, and dug-outs of the 
 pioneer without name or number. But since the 
 introduction of steam upon the Western waters, 
 most of these unique and primitive contrivances
 
 THE FAR WEST. 31 
 
 have disappeared ; and with them, too, has gone 
 that singular race of men who were their naviga- 
 tors. Most of the younger of the settlers, at this 
 early period of the country, devoted themselves to 
 this profession. Nor is there any wonder that the 
 mode of life pursued by these boatmen should have 
 presented irresistible seductions to the young peo- 
 ple along the banks. Fancy one of these huge 
 boats dropping lazily along with the current past 
 their cabins on a balmy morning in June. Picture 
 to your imagination the gorgeous foliage ; the soft, 
 delicious temperature of the atmosphere; the deep 
 azure of the sky ; the fertile alluvion, with its stu- 
 pendous forests and rivers; the romantic bluffs 
 sleeping mistily in blue distance ; the clear waters 
 rolling calmly adown, with the woodlands outlined 
 in shadow on the surface ; the boat floating leis- 
 urely onward, its heterogeneous crew of all ages 
 dancing to the violin upon the deck, flinging out 
 their merry salutations among the settlers, who 
 come down to the water's edge to see the pageant 
 pass, until, at length, it disappears behind a point 
 of wood, and the boatman's bugle strikes up its 
 note, dying in distance over the waters ; fancy a 
 scene like this, and the wild bugle-notes echo- 
 ing and re-echoing along the bluffs and forest 
 shades of the beautiful Ohio, and decide whether it 
 must not have possessed a charm of fascination 
 resistless to the youthful mind in these lonely soli- 
 tudes. No wonder that the severe toils of agricul- 
 tural life, in view of such scenes, should have be- 
 come tasteless and irksome.* The lives of these 
 
 * * Flint.
 
 32 . THE FAR WEST. 
 
 boatmen were lawless and dissolute to a proverb. 
 They frequently stopped at the villages along their 
 course, and passed the night in scenes of wild rev- 
 elry and merriment. Their occupation, more than 
 any other, subjected them to toil, and exposure, and 
 privation; and, more than any other, it indulged 
 them, for days in succession, with leisure, and ease, 
 and indolent gratification. Descending the stream, 
 they floated quietly along without an effort, but in 
 ascending against the powerful current their life 
 was an uninterrupted series of toil. The boat, we 
 are told, was propelled by poles, against which the 
 shoulder was placed and the whole strength ap- 
 plied ; their bodies were naked to the waist, for 
 enjoying the river-breeze and for moving with fa- 
 cility ; and, after the labour of the day, they swal- 
 lowed their whiskey and supper, and throwing 
 themselves upon the deck of the boat, with no other 
 canopy than the heavens, slumbered soundly on till 
 the morning. Their slang was peculiar to the 
 race, their humour and power of retort was re- 
 markable, and in their frequent battles with the 
 squatters or with their fellows, their nerve and 
 courage were unflinching. 
 
 It was in the year 1811 that the steam-engine 
 commenced its giant labours in the Valley of the 
 West, and the first vessel propelled by its agency 
 glided along the soft- flowing wave of the beautiful 
 river. Many events, we are told, united to render 
 this year a most remarkable era in the annals of 
 Western history.* The spring- freshet of the rivers 
 buried the whole valley from Pittsburgh to New- 
 
 * Latrobe.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 33 
 
 Orleans in a flood ; and when the waters subsided 
 unparalleled sickness and mortality ensued. A 
 mysterious spirit of restlessness possessed the den- 
 izens of the Northern forests, and in myriads they 
 migrated towards the South and West. The mag- 
 nificent comet of the year, seeming, indeed, to ver- 
 ify the terrors of superstition, and to " shake from 
 its horrid hair pestilence and war," all that sum- 
 mer was beheld blazing along the midnight sky, 
 and shedding its lurid twilight over forest and 
 stream ; and when the leaves of autumn began to 
 rustle to the ground, the whole vast Valley of the 
 Mississippi rocked and vibrated in earthquake-con- 
 vulsion ! forests bowed their heads ; islands disap- 
 peared from their sites, and new one's rose ; im- 
 mense lakes and hills were formed ; the graveyard 
 gave up its sheeted and ghastly tenants ; huge 
 relics of the mastodon and megalonyx, which for 
 ages had slumbered in the bosom of earth, were 
 heaved up to the sunlight; the blue lightning 
 streamed and the thunder muttered along the lead- 
 en sky, and, amid all the elemental war, the mighty 
 current of the " Father of Waters" for hours rolled 
 back its heaped-up floods towards its source 1 All 
 this was the prologue to that mighty drama of 
 Change which, from that period to the present, 
 has been sweeping over the Western Valley; it 
 was the fearful welcome-home to that all-powerful 
 agent which has revolutionized the character of 
 half a continent ; for at that epoch of wonders, and 
 amid them all, the first steamboat was seen de- 
 scending the great rivers, and the awe-struck In-
 
 34 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 dian on the banks beheld the Pinelore flying through 
 the troubled waters.* The rise and progress of the 
 steam-engine is without a parallel in the history of 
 modern improvement. Fifty years ago, and the 
 prophetic declaration of Darwin was pardoned 
 only as the enthusiasm of poetry ; it is now little 
 more than the detail of reality : 
 
 *' Soon shall thy arm, unconquer'd steam, afar 
 Drag the slow barge or drive the rapid car ; 
 Or on wide-waving wings expanded bear 
 ,. The flying chariot through the fields of air ; 
 Fair crews triumphant, leaning from above, 
 Shall wave their fluttering kerchiefs as they move. 
 Or warrior bands alarm the gaping crowd, 
 And armies shrink beneath the shadowy cloud." 
 
 The steam-engine, second only to the press in 
 power, has in a few years anticipated results 
 throughout the New World which centuries, in 
 the ordinary course of cause and event, would have 
 failed to produce. The dullest forester, even the 
 cold, phlegmatic native of the wilderness, gazes 
 upon its display of beautiful mechanism, its majes- 
 tic march upon its element, and its sublimity of 
 power, with astonishment and admiration. 
 
 Return we to the incidents of our passage. Du- 
 ring the morning of our third day upon the Ohio we 
 
 * The first steamer upon the waters of the Red River was of a 
 peculiar construction : her steam scape-pipe, instead of ascending 
 perpendicularly from the hurricane deck, projected from the bow, 
 and terminated in the form of a serpent's head. As this monster 
 ascended the wilds of the stream, with her furnaces blazing, pour- 
 ing forth steam with a roar, the wondering Choctaws upon the 
 banks gave her the poetic and appropriate name of Pinelore, "th 
 Fire-Canoe."
 
 THE FAR WEST. 35 
 
 passed, among others, the villages of Rome, Troy, 
 and Rockport. The latter is the most considera- 
 ble place of the three, notwithstanding imposing 
 titles. It is situated upon a green romantic spot, 
 the summit of a precipitous pile of rocks some hun- 
 dred feet in height, from which sweeps off a level 
 region of country in the rear. Here terminates 
 that series of beautiful bluffs commencing at the 
 confluence of the mountain-streams, and of which 
 so much has been said. A new geological forma- 
 tion commences of a bolder character than any 
 before ; and the face of the country gradually as- 
 sumes those features which are found near the 
 mouth of the river. Passing Green River with 
 its emerald waters, its " Diamond Island," the 
 largest in the Ohio, and said to be haunted, and 
 very many thriving villages, among which was 
 Hendersonville, for some time the residence of 
 Audubon, the ornithologist, we found ourselves 
 near midday at the mouth of the smiling Wabash, 
 its high bluffs crowned with groves of the walnut 
 and pecan, the carya olivceformis of Nuttal, and 
 its deep-died surface reflecting the yet deeper tints 
 of its verdure-clad banks, as the far-winding stream 
 gradually opened upon the eye, and then retreated 
 in the distance. The confluence of the streams is 
 at a beautiful angle ; and, on observing the scene, 
 the traveller will remark that the forests upon one 
 bank are superior in magnitude to those on the 
 other, though of the same species. The appear- 
 ance is somewhat singular, and the fact is to be 
 accounted for only from the reason that the soil
 
 36 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 differs in alluvial character. It has been thought 
 that no stream in the world, for its length and mag- 
 nitude, drains a more fertile and beautiful country 
 than the Wabash and its tributaries. Emigrants 
 are rapidly settling its banks, and a route has been 
 projected for uniting by canal its waters with those 
 of Lake Erie ; surveys by authority of the State of 
 Indiana have been made, and incipient measures 
 taken preparatory to carrying the work into exe- 
 cution. 
 
 About one hundred miles from the mouth of the 
 Wabash is situated the village of New-Harmony, 
 far famed for the singular events of which it has 
 been the scene. It is said to be situated on a broad 
 and beautiful plateau overlooking the stream, sur- 
 rounded by a fertile and heavily-timbered country, 
 and blessed with an atmosphere of health. It was 
 first settled in 1814 by a religious sect of Germans 
 called Harmonites, resembling the Moravians in 
 their tenets, and under the control of George Rapp, 
 in whose name the land was purchased and held. 
 They were about eight hundred in number, and soon 
 erected a number of substantial edifices, among 
 which was a huge House of Assemblage an hun- 
 dred feet square. They laid out their grounds with 
 beautiful regularity, and established a botanic gar- 
 den and an extensive greenhouse. For ten years 
 the Harmonites continued to live and labour in love, 
 in the land of their adoption, when the celebra- 
 ted Robert Dale Owen, of Scotland, came among 
 them, and, at the sum of one hundred and ninety 
 thousand dollars, purchased the establishment en- 
 tire. His design was of rearing i5p a community
 
 THE FAR WEST. 37 
 
 upon a plan styled by him the " Social System." 
 The peculiar doctrines he inculcated were a per- 
 fect equality, moral, social, political, and religious. 
 He held that the promise of never-ending love upon 
 marriage was an absurdity ; that children should 
 become no impediment to separation, as they were 
 to be considered members of the community from 
 their second year ; that the society should have no 
 professed religion, each individual being indulged 
 in his own faith, and that all temporal possessions 
 should be held in 'common. On one night of every 
 week the whole community met and danced ; and 
 on another they united in a concert of music, while 
 the Sabbath was devoted to philosophical lectures. 
 Many distinguished individuals are said to have 
 written to the society inquiring respecting its prin- 
 ciples and prospects, and expressing the wish at a 
 future ^ay to unite with it their destinies. Mr. 
 Owen was sanguine of success. On the 4th of 
 July, 1826, he promulgated his celebrated declara- 
 tion of mental independence ; a document which, 
 for absurdity, has never, perhaps, been paralleled. 
 But all was in vain. Dissension insinuated itself 
 among the members ; one after another dropped 
 off from the community, until at length Mr. Owen 
 retired in disgust, and, at a vast sacrifice, disposed 
 of the establishment to a wealthy Scotch gentleman 
 by the name of M'Clure, a former coadjutor. Thus 
 was abandoned the far-famed social system, which 
 for a time was an object of interest and topic of 
 remark all over the United States and even in Eu- 
 rope. The Duke of Saxe Weimar passed here a 
 VOL. I. D
 
 38 THE FAR WEST* 
 
 week in the spring of 1826, and has given a de- 
 tailed and amusing description of his visit. 
 
 About ten miles below the mouth of the Wabash 
 is situated the village of Shawneetown, once a fa- 
 vourite dwelling-spot of the turbulent Shawnee In- 
 dian, the tribe of Tecumseh. Quite a village once 
 stood here ; but, for some cause unknown, it was 
 forsaken previous to its settlement by the French, 
 and two small mounds are the only vestige of its 
 existence which are now to be seen. A trading- 
 post was established by the early Canadian voy- 
 ageurs ; but, on account of the sickliness of the 
 site, was abandoned, and the spot was soon once 
 more a wilderness. In the early part of 1812 a 
 land-office was here located, and two years sub- 
 sequent a town was laid off by authority of Con- 
 gress, and the lots sold as other public lands. 
 Since then it has been gradually becoming the 
 commercial emporium of southern Illinois. The 
 buildings, among which are a very conspicuous 
 bank, courthouse, and a land-office for the south- 
 ern district of Illinois, are scattered along upon a 
 gently elevated bottom, swelling up from the river 
 to the bluffs in the rear, but sometimes submerged. 
 From this latter cause it has formerly been subject 
 to disease ; it is now considered healthy ; is the 
 chief commercial port in this section of the state, 
 and is the principal point of debarkation for emi- 
 grants for the distant West. Twelve miles in its 
 rear are situated the Gallatin Salines, from which 
 the United States obtains some hundred thousands 
 of bushels of salt annually. It is manufactured by
 
 THE FAR WEST. 39 
 
 the evaporation of salt water. This is said to 
 abound over the whole extent of this region, yield- 
 ing from one eighth to one twelfth of its weight in 
 pure muriate of soda. In many places it bursts 
 forth in perennial springs ; but most frequently is 
 obtained by penetrating with the augur a depth of 
 from three to six hundred feet through the solid 
 limestone substratum, when a copper tube is intro- 
 duced, and the strongly-impregnated fluid gushes 
 violently to the surface. In the vicinity of these 
 salines huge fragments of earthenware, apparently 
 of vessels used in obtaining salt, and bearing the 
 impress of wickerwork, have been thrown up from 
 a considerable depth below the surface. Appear- 
 ances of the same character exist near Portsmouth, 
 in the State of Ohio, and other places. Their ori- 
 gin is a mystery ! the race which formed them is 
 departed ! 
 Ohio River.
 
 40 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Who can paint 
 
 Like Nature 1 Can imagination boast, 
 Amid its gay creations, hues like hers 1 
 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
 And lose them in each other, as appears 
 In every bud that blooms 1" 
 
 THOMSON. 
 
 " Precipitous, black, jagged rocks, 
 For ever shattered, and the same for ever." 
 
 COLERIDGE. 
 
 IT was near noon of the third day of our passage 
 that we found ourselves in the vicinity of that sin- 
 gular series of massive rock formations, stretching 
 along for miles upon the eastern bank of the stream. 
 The whole vast plain, extending from the Northern 
 Lakes to the mouth of the Ohio, and from the Alle- 
 ghany slope to the boundless prairies of the far 
 West, is said by geologists to be supported by a bed 
 of horizontal limestone rock, whose deep strata have 
 never been completely pierced, though penetrated 
 many hundred feet by the augur. This limestone is 
 hard, stratified, imbedding innumerable shells of the 
 terebratula3, encrinites, orthocerites, trilobites, pro- 
 ductus, and other species. Throughout most of its 
 whole extent it supports a stratum of bituminous 
 coal, various metals, and saline impregnations : its 
 constant decomposition has fertilized the soil, and 
 its absorbent and cavernous nature has prevented 
 swamps from accumulating upon the surface. Such, 
 in general outline, is this vast lime*rock substratum
 
 THE FAR WEST. 41 
 
 of the Western Valley. It generally commences 
 but a few feet below the vegetable deposite ; at 
 other places its range is deeper, while at intervals 
 it rises from the surface, and frowns in castellated 
 grandeur over objects beneath. These huge masses 
 of limestone sometimes exhibit the most picturesque 
 and remarkable forms along the banks of the west- 
 ern rivers, and are penetrated in many places by 
 vast caverns. The region we were now approach- 
 ing was a locality of these singular formations, and 
 for miles before reaching it, as has been remarked, 
 a change in scenery upon the eastern bank is ob- 
 served. Instead of the rounded wooded summits 
 of the "Ohio hills" sweeping beautifully away 
 in the distance, huge, ponderous rocks, heaped up 
 in ragged masses, " Pelion upon Ossa," are beheld 
 rearing themselves abruptly from the stream, and 
 expanding their Briarean arms in every direction. 
 Some of these cliffs present a uniform, jointed 
 surface, as if of masonry, resembling ancient ed- 
 ifices, and reminding the traveller of the giant 
 ruins of man's creations in another hemisphere, 
 while others appear just on the point of toppling 
 into the river. Among this range of crags is said 
 to hang an iron coffin, suspended, like Mohammed's, 
 between heaven and earth. It contains the re- 
 mains of a man of singular eccentricity, who, pre- 
 vious to his decease, gave orders that they should 
 be deposited thus ; and the gloomy object at the 
 close of the year, when the trees are stripped of 
 their foliage, may be perceived, it is said, high up 
 among the rocks from the deck of the passing 
 D2
 
 42 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 steamer. This story probably owes its origin to 
 an event of actual occurrence somewhat similar, 
 at a clifFcalled by the river-pilots " Hanging Rock." 
 It is situated in the vicinity of " Blennerhasset's Isl- 
 and." The first of these singular cliffs, called " Bat- 
 tery Rock," stretches along the river-bank for half 
 a mile, presenting a uniform and perpendicular fa- 
 $ade upward of eighty feet in height. The appear- 
 ance is striking, standing, as it does, distinct from 
 anything of a kindred character for miles above 
 and for some distance below. Passing several fine 
 farms, which sweep down to the water's edge, a 
 second range of cliffs are discovered, similar to 
 those described in altitude and aspect; but near 
 the base, through the dark cypresses skirting the 
 water, is perceived the ragged entrance to a large 
 cavernous fissure, penetrating the bluff, and desig- 
 nated by the name of " Rock-Inn-Cave." It is 
 said to have received this significant appellation 
 from emigrants, who were accustomed to tarry 
 with their families for weeks at the place when 
 detained by stress of weather, stage of the river, 
 or any other circumstance unfavourable to their 
 progress. 
 
 It was near noon of a beautiful day when the 
 necessary orders for landing were issued to the 
 pilot, and our boat rounded up to the low sand- 
 beach just below this celebrated cavern. As we 
 strolled along the shore beneath " the precipitous, 
 black, jagged rocks" overhanging the winding and 
 broken pathway towards the entrance, we could 
 not but consider its situation wild and rugged 
 enough to please the rifest fancy: The entrance,
 
 THE FAR WEST. 43 
 
 at first view, is exceedingly imposing ; its broad 
 massive forehead beetling over the visiter for some 
 yards before he finds himself within. The mouth 
 of the cavern looks out upon the stream rushing 
 along at the base of the cliff, and is delightfully 
 shaded by a cluster of cypresses, rearing aloft their 
 huge shafts, almost concealed in the luxuriant ivy- 
 leaves clinging to their bark. The entrance is 
 formed into a semi-elliptical arch, springing boldly 
 to the height of forty feet from a heavy bench of 
 rock on either side, and eighty feet in width at 
 the base, throwing over the whole a massive roof of 
 uniform concavity, verging to a point near the cen- 
 tre of the cave. Here may be seen another open- 
 ing of some size, through which trickles a limpid 
 stream, and forming an entrance to a second cham- 
 ber, said to be more extensive than that below. 
 The extreme length of this cavern is given by 
 Schoolcraft as one hundred and sixty feet, the floor, 
 the roof, and the walls gradually tapering to a 
 point. The rock is a secondary limestone, abound- 
 ing with testacea and petrifactions, a fine speci- 
 men of which I struck from the ledge while the 
 rest of our party were recording their names among 
 the thousand dates and inscriptions with which the 
 walls are defaced. 
 
 Like all other curiosities of Nature, this cavern 
 was, by the Indian tribes, deemed the residence of 
 a Manito* or spirit, evil or propitious, concerning 
 
 * It is a remarkable circumstance, that this term is employed to 
 signify the same thing by all the tribes from the Arkansas to the 
 sources of the Mississippi ; and, according to Mackenzie, through- 
 out the Arctic Regions.
 
 44 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 whom many a wild legend yet lives among their 
 simple-hearted posterity. They never passed this 
 dwelling-place of the divinity without discharging 
 their guns (an ordinary mark of respect), or ma- 
 king some other offering propitiatory of his favour. 
 These tributary acknowledgments, however, are 
 never of much value. The view of the stream 
 from the left bench at the cave's mouth is most 
 beautiful. J ID mediately in front extends a large 
 and densely-wooded island, known by the name 
 of the Cave, while the soft-gliding waters flow be- 
 tween, furnishing a scene of natural beauty wor- 
 thy an Inman's pencil ; and, if I mistake not, an 
 engraving of the spot has been published, a fe- 
 rocious-looking personage, pistol in hand, crouched 
 at the entrance, eagerly watching an ascending 
 boat. This design originated, doubtless, in the 
 tradition yet extant, that in the latter part of the 
 last century this cavern was the rendezvous of 
 a notorious band of freebooters which then in- 
 fested the region, headed by the celebrated Mason, 
 plundering the boats ascending from New-Orleans 
 and murdering their crews. From these circum- 
 stances this cave has become the scene of a 
 poem of much merit, called the "Outlaw," and 
 has suggested a spirited tale from a popular wri- 
 ter. Many other spots in the vicinity were no- 
 torious, in the early part of the present century, 
 for the murder and robbery of travellers, whose 
 fate long remained enveloped in mystery. On 
 the summit of a lofty bluff, not far from the " Bat- 
 tery Rock," was pointed out to us a solitary house, 
 with a single chimney rising from its roof. Its
 
 THE FAR WEST. 45 
 
 white walls may be viewed for miles before reach- 
 ing the place on descending the river. It was here 
 that the family of Sturdevant carried on their ex- 
 tensive operations as counterfeiters for many years 
 unsuspected ; and on this spot, in 1821, they expia- 
 ted their crimes with their lives. A few miles be- 
 low is a place called " Ford's Ferry," where mur- 
 der, robbery, forgery, and almost every crime in 
 the calendar were for years committed, while not 
 a suspicion of the truth was awakened. Ford not 
 only escaped unsuspected, but was esteemed a 
 most exemplary man. Associated with him were 
 his son and two other individuals, named Simpson 
 and Shouse. They are all now gone to their ac- 
 count. The old man was mysteriously shot by 
 some person who was never discovered, but was 
 supposed to have been Simpson, between whom, 
 and himself a misunderstanding had arisen. If it 
 were so, the murderer was met by fitting retribu- 
 tion, for he fell in a similar manner. Shouse and 
 the son of Ford atoned upon the gallows their 
 crimes in 1 833. Before reaching this spot the trav- 
 eller passes a remarkable mass of limestone called 
 " Tower Rock." It is perpendicular, isolated, and 
 somewhat cylindrical in outline. It is many feet 
 in altitude, and upon its summit tradition avers to 
 exist the ruins of an antique tumulus ; an altar, 
 mayhap, of the ancient forest-sons, where 
 
 " Garlands, ears of maize, and skins of wolf 
 And shaggy bear, the offerings of the tribe 
 Were made to the Great Spirit." 
 
 In the vicinity of the cliff called Tower Rock," 
 and not far from hurricane Island, is said to exist a
 
 46 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 . 
 
 remarkable cavern of considerable extent. The 
 cave is entered by an orifice nine feet in width and 
 twelve feet high ; a bench of rock is then ascended a 
 few feet, and an aperture of the size of an ordinary 
 door admits the visiter into a spacious hall. In 
 the mouth of the cavern, on the faade of the cliff, 
 at the altitude of twenty-five feet, are engraved fig- 
 ures resembling a variety of animals, as the bear, the 
 buffalo, and even the lion and lioness. All this I saw 
 nothing of, and am, of course, no voucher for its 
 existence ; but a writer in the Port Folio, so long 
 since as 1816, states the fact, and, moreover, adds 
 that the engraving upon the rock was executed in 
 " a masterly style." 
 
 From this spot the river stretches away in a long 
 delightful reach, studded with beautiful islands, 
 among which " Hurricane Island," a very large 
 one, is chief. Passing the compact little village of 
 Golconda with its neat courthouse, and the mouth 
 of the Cumberland River with its green island, 
 once the rendezvous of Aaron Burr and his chival- 
 rous band, we next reached the town of Paducah, 
 at the outlet of the Tennessee. This is a place of 
 importance,* though deemed unhealthy : it is said 
 to have derived its name from a captive Indian 
 woman, who was here sacrificed by a band of 
 the Pawnees after having been assured of safety. 
 About eight miles below Paducah are situated the 
 ruins of Fort Massac, once a French military post 
 of importance. There is a singular legend re- 
 specting this fort still popular among the inhabitants 
 of the neighbouring region, the outlines of which 
 
 * It has since been nearly destroyed by fire.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 47 
 
 are the following : The fortress was erected by the 
 French while securing possession of the Western 
 Valley, and, soon after, hostilities arising between 
 them and the natives, the latter contrived a strata- 
 gem, in every respect worthy the craft and subtlety 
 of the race, to obtain command of this stronghold. 
 Early one morning a body of Indians, enveloped 
 each in a bearskin, appeared upon the opposite bank 
 of the Ohio. Supposing them the animal so faith- 
 fully represented, the whole French garrison in a 
 mass sallied incontinently forth, anticipating rare 
 sport, while the remnant left behind as a guard 
 gathered themselves upon the glacis as spectators 
 of the scene. Meanwhile, a large body of Indians, 
 concealed in rear of the fort, slipped silently from 
 their ambush, and few were there of the French 
 who escaped to tell the tale of the scene that en- 
 sued. They were massacred almost to a man, and 
 hence the name of Massac to the post. During 
 the war of the revolution a garrison was stationed 
 upon the spot for some years, but the structures 
 are now in ruins. A few miles below is a small 
 place consisting of a few farmhouses, called Wil- 
 kinsonville, on the site where Fort Wilkinson 
 once stood ; just opposite, along the shore, com- 
 mences the " Grand Chain" of rocks so famous to 
 the Ohio pilot, extending four miles. The little 
 village of Caledonia is here laid off among the 
 bluffs. It has a good landing, and is the proposed 
 site of a marine hospital. 
 
 It was sunset when we arrived at the confluence 
 of the rivers. In course of the afternoon we had 
 been visited by a violent thunder-gust, accompanied
 
 48 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 by hail. But sunset came, and the glorious " bow 
 of the covenant" was hung out upon the dark bosom 
 of the clouds, spanning woodland and waters with 
 its beautiful hues. And yet, though the hour was 
 a delightful one, the scene did not present that as- 
 pect of vastness and sublimity which was anticipa- 
 ted from the celebrity of the streams. For some 
 miles before uniting its w r aters with the Mississip- 
 pi, the Ohio presents a dull and uninteresting ap- 
 pearance. It is no longer the clear, sparkling 
 stream, with bluffs and woodland painted on its 
 surface ; the volume of its channel is greatly in- 
 creased by its union with two of its principal trib- 
 utaries, and its waters are turbid ; its banks are 
 low, inundated, and clothed with dark groves of 
 deciduous forest-trees, and the only sounds which 
 issue from their depths to greet the traveller's ear 
 are the hoarse croakings of frogs, or the dull mo- 
 notony of countless choirs of moschetoes. Thus 
 rolls on the river through the dullest, dreariest, 
 most uninviting region imaginable, until it sweeps 
 away in a direction nearly southeast, and meets 
 the venerable Father of the West advancing to its 
 embrace. The volume of water in each seems 
 nearly the same; the Ohio exceeds a little in 
 breadth, their currents oppose to each other an 
 equal resistance, and the resultant of the forces is 
 a, vast lake more than two miles in breadth, where 
 the united waters slumber quietly and magnificently 
 onward for leagues in a common bed. On the right 
 come rolling in the turbid floods of the Mississippi ; 
 and on looking upon it for the first time with pre- 
 conceived ideas of the magnitude of the mightiest
 
 THE FAR WEST. 49 
 
 river on the globe, the spectator is always disap- 
 pointed. He considers only its breadth when com- 
 pared with the Ohio, without adverting to its vast 
 depth. The Ohio sweeps in majestically from the 
 north, and its clear waters flow on for miles with- 
 out an intimate union with its turbid conqueror. 
 The characteristics of the two streams are dis- 
 tinctly marked at their junction and long after. 
 The banks of both are low and swampy, totally 
 unfit for culture or habitation. " Willow Point," 
 which projects itself into the confluence, presents 
 an elevation of twenty feet; yet, in unusual in- 
 undations, it is completely buried six feet below 
 the surface, and the agitated waters, rolling to- 
 gether their masses, form an enormous lake. How 
 strange it seemed, while gazing upon the view 
 I have attempted to delineate, now fading away 
 beneath the summer twilight how very strange 
 was the reflection that these two noble streams, 
 deriving their sources in the pellucid lakes and the 
 clear icy fountains of their highland-homes, mean- 
 dering majestically through scenes of nature and 
 of art unsurpassed in beauty, and draining, and 
 irrigating, and fertilizing the loveliest valley on the 
 globe how strange, that the confluence of the wa- 
 ters of such streams, in their onward rolling to the 
 deep, should take place at almost the only stage in 
 their course devoid entirely of interest to the eye 
 or the fancy ; in the heart of a dreary and extended 
 swamp, waving with the gloomy boughs of the cy- 
 press, and enlivened by not a sound but the croak- 
 ing of bullfrogs, and the deep, surly misery note of 
 VOL. L E
 
 50 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 moschetoes ! Willow Point is the property of a 
 company of individuals, who announce it their in- 
 tention to elevate the delta above the power of in- 
 undations, and here to locate a city. There are as 
 yet, however, but a few storehouses on the spot ; 
 and when we consider the incalculable expense 
 the only plan for rendering it habitable involves, 
 we can only deem the idea of a city here as the 
 chimera of a Utopian fancy. For more than 
 twelve miles above the confluence, the whole al- 
 luvion is annually inundated, and forbids all im- 
 provement ; but were this site an elevated one, a 
 city might here be founded which should command 
 the immense commerce of these great rivers, and 
 become the grand central emporium of the West- 
 ern Valley. 
 
 Upon the first elevated land above the conflu- 
 ence stands the little town called America. This 
 is the proposed terminus to the grand central rail- 
 road of the Internal Improvement scheme of Illi- 
 nois, projected to pass directly through the state, 
 uniting its northern extremity with the southern. 
 The town is said to have been much retarded in 
 its advancement by the circumstance of a sand-bar 
 obstructing the landing. It has been contemplated 
 to cut a basin, extending from the Ohio to a stream 
 called " Humphrey's Creek," which passes through 
 the place, and thus secure a harbour. Could this 
 plan be carried into execution, America would 
 soon become a town of importance. 
 
 Ohio River.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 51 
 
 V. 
 
 "The groves were God's first temples." 
 
 BRYANT. 
 
 " Oh ! it's hame, and it's hame, it's hame wad I be, 
 Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie." 
 
 CUNNINGHAM. 
 
 Those Sabbath bells, those Sabbath bells, 
 I hear them wake the hour of prime." 
 
 LAMB. 
 "She walks the waters like a thing of life." 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 IT was late before we had passed the confluence 
 of the Ohio with the dark-rolling tide of the " end- 
 less river," and the mellow gorgeousness of summer 
 sunset had gently yielded to the duskiness of twi- 
 light, and that to the inky pall of night. The moon 
 had not risen, and the darkness became gradually 
 so dense that doubts were entertained as to the pru- 
 dence of attempting to stem the mighty current of 
 the Mississippi on such a night. These, however, 
 were overruled ; and, sweeping around the low 
 peninsula of Cairo, our steamer met the torrent and 
 quivered in every limb. A convulsed, motionless 
 struggle ensued, in which the heavy labouring of 
 the engine, the shrill whistle of the safety-valve, 
 the quick, querulous crackling of the furnaces, the 
 tumultuous rushing of the wheels, and the stern 
 roar of the scape- pipe, gave evidence of the fearful 
 power summoned up to overcome the flood. At 
 
 length we began very slowly to ascend the stream. 
 i 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 52 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Our speed was about five miles an hour, and the 
 force of the current nearly the same, which so im- 
 pedes advancement that it requires as long to as- 
 cend from the confluence to St. Louis as to de- 
 scend to the same point from the Falls, though the 
 distance is less than half. All night our steamer 
 urged herself slowly onward against the current, 
 and the morning found us threading a narrow chan- 
 nel amid a cluster of islands, from whose dense 
 foliage the night-mists were rising and settling in 
 dim confusion. Near the middle of the stream, 
 above this collection, lays a very large island, com- 
 prising eight or ten thousand acres. It is called 
 English Island ; is heavily timbered ; huge vines of 
 the wild grape are leaping like living things from 
 branch to branch, and the wild pea flourishes all 
 over the surface of the soil in most luxuriant pro- 
 fusion. The stream here expands itself to the 
 breadth of four miles, and abounds with islands. 
 
 As the morning advanced the sun burst glori- 
 ously forth from the mists ; and as I gazed with 
 tranquillized delight upon the beautiful scenery it 
 unrolled, I remembered that it was the morning of 
 the Sabbath the peaceful Sabbath. It is a sweet 
 thing to pass the hours of holy time amid the elo- 
 quent teachings of inanimate nature. It is pleasant 
 to yield up for a season the sober workings of rea- 
 son to the warm gushings of the heart, and to suffer 
 the homage of the soul to go up before the Author 
 of its being unfettered by the chill formalities, the 
 bustling parade, the soulless dissembling of the 
 unbending courtesies of ordinary life. Amid the
 
 THE FAR WEST. 53 
 
 Crowded assemblage, there is but little of that hum- 
 bleness of spirit and that simple-hearted fervour of 
 worship which it is in man to feel when commu- 
 ning within the shadowy solitudes of Nature with 
 his God. There are moments, too, when the soul 
 of man is called back from the heartlessness of life, 
 and pours forth its emotions, gush upon gush, in all 
 the hallowed luxuriance of its nature ; when, from 
 the fevered turmoil of daily existence, it retires to 
 well up its sympathies alone beneath the covert 
 of a lulled and peaceful bosom ; and surely such a 
 season is the calm, waveless hour of Sabbath sa- 
 credness. And it is a blessed appointment that, 
 in a world whose quietude too often is disturbed 
 by the untamed heavings of unholy feeling, there 
 should yet be moments when the agitated events of 
 the past are forgotten, when the apprehensions of 
 the future are unthought of, and the generous emo- 
 tions of the heart are no more repressed. Such 
 moments are the crystal fount of the oasis, girt, 
 indeed, by the sands and barrenness of the desert ; 
 yet laughing forth in tinkling melody amid its 
 sprinkled evergreens, in all the sparkling freshness 
 of mimic life, to bathe the languid lip of the weary 
 one. Such moments are the mellow radiance of the 
 departing sun when the trials of the day are over ; 
 and tenderly and softly do their influences descend 
 upon the heart. Like the pure splendour of the star 
 of even, how calmly does the sacred Sabbath-time 
 beam out from the dark, unquiet firmament of 
 life ! 'Tis the blessed rainbow of promise and of 
 consolation amid the rough storms of our pilgrim- 
 * E2
 
 54 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 age, and its holy influences elicit all the untold 
 richness of the heart. It is a season soft as the 
 memorial of buried affection, mild as the melody 
 Of departed years, pure as the prayer of feebleness 
 from the lip of childhood, beautiful as yon floating 
 islet sleeping in sunset radiance on the blue even- 
 ing wave. " Gone, gone for ever I" Another 
 Sabbath is over, and from its gathering shades it is 
 good to cast back a glance of reflection. 
 
 A company of emigrants, in course of the morn- 
 ing, were landed from our boat at a desolate-look- 
 ing spot upon the Missouri shore ; men, women, and 
 little ones, with slaves, household stuff, pots, kettles, 
 dogs, implements of husbandry, and all the para- 
 phernalia of the backwood's farm heaped up pro- 
 miscuously in a heterogeneous mass among the 
 undergrowth beneath the lofty trees. A similar 
 party from the State of Vermont were, during our 
 passage, landed near the mouth of the Wabash,one 
 of whom was a pretty, delicate female, with an in- 
 fant boy in her arms. They had been deck-passen- 
 gerSj and we had seen none of them before; yet 
 their situation could not but excite interest in their 
 welfare. Poor woman! thought I, as our boat left 
 them gazing anxiously after us from the inhospi- 
 table bank, little do you dream of the trials and the 
 privations to which your destiny conducts, and the 
 hours of bitter retrospection which are to come 
 over your spirit like a blight, as, from these cheer- 
 less solitudes, you cast back many a lingering 
 thought to your dear, distant home in New-Eng- 
 land ; whose very mountain-crags and fierce storms
 
 THE FAR WEST. 55 
 
 of winter, harsh and unwelcome though they might 
 seem to the stranger, were yet pleasant to you : 
 
 " My native land ! my native land ! 
 Though bare and bleak thou be, 
 And scant and cold thy summer smile, 
 Thou'rt all the world to me." 
 
 A few years, and all this will have passed away. 
 A new home and new ties will have sprung up in 
 the wilderness to sooth the remembrance of the old. 
 This broad valley will swarm with population ; the 
 warm breath of man will be felt upon the cheek, and 
 his tread will be heard at the side ; the glare of civil- 
 ization and the confused hum of business will have 
 violated these solitudes and broken in upon their 
 gloom, and here empire shall have planted her 
 throne ; and then, perchance, that playful boy upon 
 the bosom may rise to wield the destinies of his fel- 
 lows. But many a year of toil and privation must 
 first have passed away ; and who shall record their 
 annals? A thousand circumstances, all unlooked 
 for, will seize upon the feelings of the emigrant ; the 
 harshness of strangers, the cold regard of recent ac- 
 quaintance, the absence of relatives and of friends 
 long cherished, the distance which separates him 
 from his native home, and the dreary time which 
 must elapse between all communications of the 
 pen. And then the sweet chime of the Sabbath- 
 bell of New-England, pealing out in " angels' mu- 
 sic"* on the clear mountain-air, to usher in the 
 hours of holy time, and to summon the soul of 
 man to communion with its Maker; will this be 
 heard amid the forest solitude ? and all that quiet 
 
 "* * Herbert.
 
 56 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 intermingling of heart with heart which divests 
 grief of half its bitterness by taking from it all 
 its loneliness ? And the hour of sickness, and of 
 death, and of gushing tears, as they come to all, 
 may not be absent here ; and where are the sooth- 
 ing consolations of religious solemnity, and the 
 sympathies of kindred souls, and the unobtrusive 
 condolence of those who alone may enter the inner 
 temple of the breast, where the stranger intermed- 
 dleth not? Yes, it must be notwithstanding the 
 golden anticipations indulged by every humble em- 
 igrant to this El Dorado of promise it must be that 
 there will arise in his bosom, when he finds himself 
 for the first time amid these vast forest solitudes, 
 attended only by his wife and children, a feeling of 
 unutterable loneliness and desertion. Until this 
 moment he has been sustained by the buoyancy of 
 anticipated success, the excitement of change, the 
 enlivening influences of new and beautiful scenes ; 
 and the effect of strange faces and strange customs 
 has been to divert the attention, while the farewell 
 pressure of affection yet has warmly lingered. All 
 this is over now, and his spirit, left to its own re- 
 sources, sinks within him. The sacred spot of 
 his nativity is far, far away towards the morn- 
 ing sun ; and there is the village church and the 
 village graveyard, hallowed by many a holy re- 
 membrance ; there, too, are the playmates and the 
 scenes of his boyhood-days ; the trysting-place of 
 youthful love and of youthful friendship, spots 
 around which are twined full many a tendril of his 
 heart ; and he has turned from them all for ever. 
 Henceforth he is a wanderer, and a' distant soil must
 
 THE FAR WEST. 57 
 
 claim his ashes. He who, with such reflections, 
 yearns not for the home of his fathers, is an alien, 
 and no true son of New-England. 
 
 It was yet early in the morning of our first day 
 upon the Mississippi that we found ourselves be- 
 neath the stately bluff upon which stands the old 
 village of Cape Girardeau. Its site is a bold bank 
 of the stream, gently sloping to the water's edge, 
 upon a substratum of limerock. A settlement 
 was commenced on this spot in the latter part of 
 the last century. Its founders were of French and 
 German extraction, though its structures do not 
 betray their origin. The great earthquakes of 
 1811, which vibrated through the whole length of 
 the Western Valley, agitated the site of this vil- 
 lage severely ; many brick houses were shatter- 
 ed, chimneys thrown down, and other damage ef- 
 fected, traces of the repairs of which are yet to be 
 viewed. The place received a shock far more se- 
 vere, however, in the removal of the seat of justice 
 to another town in the county : but the landing is 
 an excellent one ; iron ore and other minerals are 
 its staples of trade, and it is again beginning to as- 
 sume a commercial character. The most remark- 
 able objects which struck our attention in passing 
 this place were several of those peculiarly novel 
 mills put in motion by a spiral water-wheel, acted 
 on by the current of the river. These screw- 
 wheels float upon the surface parallel to the shore, 
 rising or falling with the water, and are connected 
 with the gearing in the millhouse upon the bank 
 by a long shaft. The action of the current upon
 
 58 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 the spiral thread of the wheel within its external 
 casing keeps it in constant motion, which is com- 
 municated by the shaft to the machinery of the 
 mills. The contrivance betrays much ingenuity, 
 and for purposes where a motive of inconsiderable 
 power is required, may be useful ; but for driving 
 heavy millstones or a saw, the utility is more than 
 problematical. 
 
 In the vicinity of Cape Girardeau commences 
 what is termed the " Tyowapity Bottom," a cele- 
 brated section of country extending along the Mis- 
 souri side of the stream some thirty miles, and 
 abounding with a peculiar species of potter's clay, 
 unctuous in its nature, exceedingly pure and white, 
 and plastic under the wheel. This stratum of clay 
 is said to vary from one foot to ten in depth, rest- 
 ing upon sandstone, and covered by limestone 
 abounding in petrifactions. A manufactory is in 
 operation at Cape Girardeau, in which this sub- 
 stance is the material employed. Near the north- 
 ern extremity of this bottom the waters of the Mud- 
 dy River enter the Mississippi from Illinois. This 
 stream was discovered by the early French voy- 
 ageurs, and from them received the name of Riv- 
 iere au Vase, or Vaseux. It is distinguished for the 
 salines upon its banks, for its exhaustless beds of 
 bituminous coal, for the fertility of the soil, and for 
 a singularly-formed eminence among the bluffs of 
 the Mississippi, a few miles from its mouth. Its 
 name is " Fountain Bluff? derived from the cir- 
 cumstance that from its base gush out a number 
 of limpid springs. It is said to measure eight miles
 
 THE FAR WEST. 59 
 
 In circumference, and to have an altitude of several 
 hundred feet. Its western declivity looks down 
 upon the river, and its northern side is a precipi- 
 tous crag, while that upon the south slopes away 
 to a fertile plain, sprinkled with farms. 
 
 A few miles above the Big Muddy stands out 
 from the Missouri shore a huge perpendicular col- 
 umn of limestone, of cylindrical formation, about 
 one hundred feet in circumference at the base, and 
 in height one hundred and fifty feet, called the 
 " Grand Tower." Upon its summit rests a thin stra- 
 tum of vegetable mould, supporting a shaggy crown 
 of rifted cedars, rocking in every blast that sweeps 
 the stream, whose turbid current boils, and chafes, 
 and rages at the obstruction below. This is the 
 first of that celebrated range of heights upon the 
 Mississippi usually pointed out to the tourist, 
 springing in isolated masses from the river's brink 
 upon either side, and presenting to the eye a suc- 
 cession of objects singularly grotesque. There are 
 said to exist, at this point upon the Mississippi, in- 
 dications of a huge parapet of limestone having 
 once extended across the stream, which must have 
 formed a tremendous cataract, and effectually in- 
 undated all the alluvion above. At low stages of 
 the water ragged shelves, which render the navi- 
 gation dangerous, are still to be seen. Among the 
 other cliffs along this precipitous range which have 
 received names from the boatmen are the " Devil's 
 Oven," Teatable," " Backbone," &c., which, with 
 the "Devil's Anvil," "Devil's Island," &c., indi- 
 cate pretty plainly the divinity most religiously pro-
 
 60 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 pitiated in these dangerous passes. The " Oven" 
 consists of an enormous promontory of rock, about 
 one hundred feet from the surfa e of the river, with 
 a hemispherical orifice scooped out of its face, 
 probably by the action, in ages past, of the whirl- 
 ing waters now hurrying on below. It is situated 
 upon the left bank of the stream, about one mile 
 above the " Tower," and is visible from the river. 
 In front rests a huge fragment of the same rock, 
 and in the interval stands a dwelling and a garden 
 spot. The " Teatable" is situated at some dis- 
 tance below, and the other spots named are yet 
 lower upon the stream. This whole region bears 
 palpable evidence of having been subjected, ages 
 since, to powerful volcanic and diluvial action; 
 and neither the Neptunian or Vulcanian theory 
 can advance a superior claim. 
 
 For a long time after entering the dangerous de- 
 file in the vicinity of the Grand Tower, through 
 which the current rushes like a racehorse, our 
 steamer writhed and groaned against the torrent, 
 hardly advancing a foot. At length, as if by a sin- 
 gle tremendous effort, which caused her to quiver 
 and vibrate to her centre, an onward impetus was 
 gained, the boat shot forward, the rapids were over- 
 come, and then, by chance, commenced one of 
 those perilous feats of rivalry, formerly, more than 
 at present, frequent upon the Western waters, JL 
 RACE. Directly before us, a steamer of a large 
 class, deeply laden, was roaring and struggling 
 against the torrent under her highest pressure. 
 During our passage we had several times passed 
 and repassed each other, as either boat was delayed
 
 THE FAR WEST. 61 
 
 at the various woodyards along the route; but now, 
 as the evening came on, and we found ourselves 
 gaining upon our antagonist, the excitement of em- 
 ulation flushed every cheek. The passengers and 
 crew hung clustering, in breathless interest, upon 
 the galleries and the boiler deck, wherever a post for 
 advantageous view presented ; while the hissing 
 valves, the quick, heavy stroke of the piston, the 
 sharp clatter of the eccentric^ and the cool deter- 
 mination of the pale engineer, as he glided like a 
 spectre among the fearful elements of destruction, 
 gave evidence that the challenge was accepted. 
 But there was one humble individual, above all 
 others, whose whole soul seemed concentrated in 
 the contest, as from time to time, in the intervals 
 of toil, his begrimed and working features were 
 caught, glaring through the lurid light of the fur- 
 naces he was feeding. This was no less a person- 
 age than the doughty fireman of our steamer ; a 
 long, lanky individual, with a cute cast of the eye, 
 a knowing tweak of the nose, and an interminable 
 longitude of phiz. His checkered shirt was drench- 
 ed with perspiration ; a huge pair of breeches, be- 
 girdling his loins by means of a leathern belt, cov- 
 ered his nether extremities, and two sinewy arms 
 of" whipcord and bone" held in suspension a spade- 
 like brace of hands. During our passage, more than 
 once did I avail myself of an opportunity of study- 
 ing the grotesque, good-humoured visage of this 
 unique individual ; and it required no effort of fancy 
 to imagine I viewed before me some lingering rem- 
 Eant of that " horse and alligator race," now, like 
 VOL. I. F 1
 
 62 THE FAR WEST* 
 
 the poor Indian, fast fading from the West before 
 the march of steamboats and civilization, videlicet) 
 " the Mississippi boatman." And, on the occasion 
 of which I speak, methought I could catch no slight 
 resemblance in my interesting fireman, as he flour- 
 ished his ponderous limbs, to that faithful portrait- 
 ure of his majesty of the Styx in Tooke's Panthe- 
 on ! though, as touching this latter, I must confess 
 me of much dubiety in boyhood days, with the 
 worthy " gravedigger" Young, having entertained 
 shrewd suspicions whether the "tyrant ever sat." 
 
 But in my zeal for the honest Charon I am for- 
 getting the exciting subject of the race. During 
 my digression, the ambitious steamers have been 
 puffing, and sweating, and glowing in laudable ef- 
 fort, to say nothing of stifled sobs said to have is- 
 sued from their labouring bosoms, until at length 
 a grim smile of satisfaction lighting up the rugged 
 features of the worthy Charon, gave evidence that 
 not in vain he had wielded his mace or heaved his 
 wood. A dense mist soon after came on, and the 
 exhausted steamers were hauled up at midnight 
 beneath the venerable trees upon the banks of the 
 stream. On the first breakings of dawn all was 
 again in motion. But, alas ! alas \ in spite of all 
 the strivings of our valorous steamer, it soon be- 
 came but too evident that her mighty rival must 
 prevail, as with distended jaws, like to some huge 
 fish, she came rushing up in our wake, as if our 
 annihilation were sure. But our apprehensions 
 proved groundless ; like a civil, well-behaved rival, 
 *he speeded on, hurling forth a triple bob-major of
 
 THE PAR WEST. 63 
 
 curses at us as she passed, doubtless by way of 
 salvo, and disappeared behind a point. When to 
 this circumstance is added that a long-winded racer 
 of a mail-boat soon after swept past us in her on- 
 ward course, and left us far in the rear, I shall be 
 believed when it is stated that the steamer on which 
 we were embarked was distinguished for anything 
 but speed ; a circumstance by none regretted less 
 than by myself. 
 Mississippi River. 
 
 VI. 
 
 " I linger yet with Nature." 
 
 MANFRED. 
 
 " Onward still I press, 
 
 Follow thy windings still, yet sigh for more." 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 " God's my life, did you ever hear the like ! 
 What a strange man is this !" 
 
 BEN JONSON. 
 
 BUT a very few years have passed away since 
 the navigation of the Mississippi was that of one of 
 the most dangerous streams on the globe; but, 
 thanks to the enterprising genius of the scientific 
 Shreve, this may no longer with truth be said. In 
 1824 the first appropriation* was voted by Congress 
 for improving the navigation of the Western rivers ; 
 and since that period thousands of snags, sawyers, 
 
 * $105,000.
 
 64 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 planters, sand-bars, sunken rocks, and fallen trees 
 have been removed, until all that now remains is to 
 prevent new obstacles from accumulating where the 
 old have been eradicated. For much of its course 
 in its lower sections, the Mississippi is now quite 
 safe ; and as the progress of settlements advances 
 upon its banks, the navigation of this noble stream 
 will doubtless become unobstructed in its whole 
 magnificent journey from the falls of the " Laughing 
 Water" to the Mexican Gulf. The indefatigable 
 industry, the tireless perseverance, the indomitable 
 enterprise, and the enlarged and scientific policy 
 of Captain Shreve, the projector and accomplisher 
 of the grand national operations upon the Western 
 rivers, can never be estimated beyond their merit. 
 The execution of that gigantic undertaking, the re- 
 moval of the Red River Raft, has identified his his- 
 tory with that of the empire West ; his fame will 
 endure so long as those magnificent streams, with 
 which his name is associated, shall continue to roll 
 on their volumed waters to the deep. 
 
 These remarks have been suggested by scenes 
 of constant recurrence to the traveller on the Mis- 
 sissippi. The banks, the forests, the islands all dif- 
 fer as much as the stream itself from those of the 
 soft-gliding Ohio. Instead of those dense emerald 
 masses of billowy foliage swelling gracefully up 
 from the banks of " the beautiful river," those of 
 the Mississippi throw back a rough, ragged out- 
 line ; their sands piled with logs and uprooted 
 trees, while heaps of wreck and drift-wood betray 
 the wild ravages of the stream. In the midst of
 
 THE FAR WEST. 65 
 
 the mass a single enormous sycamore often rears 
 its ghastly limbs, while at its foot springs grace- 
 fully up a light fringe of the pensile willow. 
 Sometimes, too, a huge sawyer, clinging upon the 
 verge of the channel, heaves up its black mass 
 above the surface, then falls, and again rises with 
 the rush of the current. Against one of these saw- 
 yers is sometimes lodged a mass of drift-wood, 
 pressing it firmly upon the bottom, till, by a con- 
 stant accumulation, a foundation is gradually laid 
 and a new island is formed : this again, by throw- 
 ing the water from its course, causes a new chan- 
 nel, which, infringing with violence upon the oppo- 
 site bank, undermines it with its colonnade of 
 enormous trees, and thus new material in endless 
 succession is afforded for obstructions to the navi- 
 gation. The deposites of alluvion along the banks 
 betray a similar origin of gradual accumulation by 
 the annual floods. In some sections of the Ameri- 
 can Bottom, commencing at its southern extremity 
 with the Kaskaskia River, the mould, upward of 
 thirty feet in depth, is made up of numerous strata 
 of earth, which may be readily distinguished and 
 counted by the colours. 
 
 About twenty miles above the mouth of the Kas- 
 kaskia is situated Ste. Genevieve, grand deposite 
 of the lead of the celebrated ancient mines La 
 Motte> and A' Burton, and others, some thirty miles 
 in the interior, and the market which supplies all 
 the mining district of the vicinity. It was first 
 commenced about the year 1774 by the original 
 settlers of Upper Louisiana ; and the Canadian 
 i F2 
 
 1
 
 66 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 French, with their descendants, constitute a larg<? 
 portion of its present inhabitants. The population 
 does not now exceed eight hundred, though it is 
 once said to have numbered two thousand inhabi- 
 tants. Some of the villagers are advanced in 
 years, and among them is M. Valle, one of the 
 chief proprietors of Mine la Motte, who, though 
 now some ninety years of age, is almost as active 
 as when fifty. Ste. Genevieve is situated about 
 one mile from the Mississippi, upon a broad allu- 
 vial plain lying between the branches of a small 
 stream called Gabourie. Beyond the first bottom 
 rises a second steppe, and behind this yet a third, 
 attaining an elevation of more than a hundred feet 
 from the water's edge. Upon this elevated site 
 was erected, some twenty years since, a handsome 
 structure of stone, commanding a noble prospect 
 of the river, the broad American Bottom on the 
 opposite side, and the bluffs beyond the Kaskaskia. 
 It was intended for a literary institution ; but, 
 owing to unfavourable reports with regard to the 
 health of its situation, the design was abandoned, 
 and the edifice was never completed. It is now 
 in a state of " ruinous perfection," and enjoys 
 the reputation, moreover, of being haunted. In 
 very sooth, its aspect, viewed from the river at 
 twilight, with its broken windows outlined against 
 the western sky, is wild enough to warrant such an 
 idea or any other. A courthouse and Catholic 
 chapel constitute the public buildings. To the 
 south of the village, and lying upon the river, is 
 situated the common field, originally comprising
 
 THE FAR WEST. 67 
 
 two thousand arpens ; but it is now much less in 
 extent, and is yearly diminishing from the action 
 of the current upon the alluvial banks. These com- 
 mon fields were granted by the Spanish govern- 
 ment, as well as by the French, to every village 
 settled under their domination. A single enclosure 
 at the expense of the villagers was erected and 
 kept in repair, and the lot of every individual was 
 separated from his neighbour's by a double furrow. 
 Near this field the village was formerly located ; 
 but in the inundation of 1785, called by the old 
 habitans " ISannee des grandes eaux" so much of 
 the bank was washed away that the settlers were 
 forced to select a more elevated site. The Mis- 
 sissippi was at this time swelled to thirty feet above 
 the highest water-mark before known ; and the 
 town of Kaskaskia and the whole American Bot- 
 tom were inundated. 
 
 Almost every description of minerals are to be 
 found in the county, of which Ste. Genevieve is the 
 seat of justice. But of all other species, iron ore is 
 the most abundant. The celebrated Iron Mount- 
 ain and the Pilot Knob are but forty miles distant. 
 Abundance of coal is found in the opposite bluffs in 
 Illinois. About twelve miles from the village has 
 been opened a quarry of beautiful white marble, in 
 some respects thought not inferior to that of Carra- 
 ra. There are also said to be immense caves of 
 pure white sand, of dazzling lustre, quantities of 
 which are transported to Pittsburg for the manufac- 
 ture of flint glass. There are a number of beau- 
 tiful fountains in the neighbourhood, one of which 
 is said to be of s'ypassing loveliness. It is several
 
 68 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 yards square, and rushes up from a depth of fifteen 
 or twenty feet, enclosed upon three sides by mass- 
 es of living rock, over which, in pensile graceful- 
 ness, repose the long glossy branches of the forest- 
 trees. 
 
 The early French settlers manufactured salt a 
 few miles from the village, at a saline formerly oc- 
 cupied by the aborigines, the remains of whose 
 earthen kettles are yet found on the spot. About 
 thirty years since a village of the Peoria Indians 
 was situated where the French common field now 
 stands ; and from the ancient mounds found in the 
 vicinity, and the vast quantities of animal and hu- 
 man remains, and utensils of pottery exhumed from 
 the soil, the spot seems to have been a favourite 
 location of a race whose destiny, and origin, and 
 history are alike veiled in oblivion. The view of 
 Ste. Genevieve from the water is picturesque and 
 beautiful, and its landing is said to be superior to 
 any between the mouth of the Ohio and the city of 
 St. Louis. The village has that decayed and 
 venerable aspect characteristic of all these early 
 French settlements. 
 
 As we were passing Ste. Genevieve an accident 
 occurred which had nearly proved fatal to our boat, 
 if not to the lives of all on board of her. A race 
 which took place between another steamer and our 
 own has been noticed. In some unaccountable 
 manner, this boat, which then passed us, fell again in 
 the rear, and now, for the last hour, had been com- 
 ing up in our wake under high steam. On overta- 
 king us, she attempted, contrary to all rules and reg-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 69 
 
 illations for the navigation of the river provided, 
 to pass between our boat and the bank beneath 
 which we were moving ; an outrage which, had 
 it been persisted in a moment longer than was for- 
 tunately the case, would have sent us to the bot- 
 tom. For a single instant, as she came rushing on, 
 contact seemed inevitable ; and, as her force was 
 far superior to our own, and the recklessness of 
 many who have the guidance of Western steamers 
 was well known to us all, the passengers stood 
 clustering around upon the decks, some pale with 
 apprehension, and others with firearms in their 
 hands, flushed with excitement, and prepared to 
 render back prompt retribution on the first aggres- 
 sion. The pilot of the hostile boat, from his ex- 
 posed situation and the virulent feelings against 
 him, would have met with certain death ; and he, 
 consequently, contrary to the express injunctions of 
 the master, reversed the motion of the wheels just 
 at the instant to avoid the fatal rencounter. The 
 sole cause for this outrage, we subsequently learned, 
 was a private pique existing between the pilots of 
 the respective steamers. One cannot restrain an 
 expression of indignant feeling at such an exhibition 
 of foolhardy recklessness. It is strange, after all 
 the fearful accidents of this description upon the 
 Western waters, and that terrible prodigality of hu- 
 man life which for years past has been constantly 
 exhibited, there should yet be found individuals so 
 utterly regardless of the safety of their fellow-men, 
 and so destitute of every emotion of generous feel- 
 ing, as to force their way heedlessly onward into
 
 70 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 danger, careless of any issue save the paltry grati- 
 fication of private vengeance. It is a question 
 daily becoming of more startling import, How may 
 these fatal occurrences be successfully opposed T 
 Where lies the fault? Is it in public sentiment? 
 Is it in legal enactment ? Is it in individual villa- 
 ny? However this may be, our passage seemed 
 fraught with adventure, of which this is but an in- 
 cident. After the event mentioned, having com- 
 posed the agitation consequent, we had retired to 
 our berths, and were just buried in profound sleep, 
 when crash our boat's bow struck heavily against 
 a snag, which, glancing along the bottom, threw 
 her at once upon her beams, and all the passengers 
 on the elevated side from their berths. No serious 
 injury was sustained, though alarm and confusion 
 enough were excited by such an unceremonious 
 turn-out. The dismay and tribulation of some of 
 our worthy company were entirely too ludicrous 
 for the risibles of the others, and a hearty roar of 
 cachinnation was heard even above the ejaculations 
 of distress; a very improper thing, no doubt, and 
 not at all to be recommended on such occasions, 
 as one would hardly wish to make a grave " un- 
 knell'd and uncoffin'd" in the Mississippi, with a 
 broad grin upon his. phiz. 
 
 In alluding to the race which took place during 
 our passage, honourable mention was made of a 
 certain worthy individual whose vocation was to 
 feed the furnaces ; and one bright morning, when, 
 all the others of our company had bestowed them- 
 selves in their berths because of the intolerable
 
 THE FAR WEST. 71 
 
 heat, I took occasion to visit the sooty Charon in 
 the purgatorial realms over which he wielded the 
 sceptre. " Grievous work this building fires under 
 a sun like that," was the salutation, as my friend 
 the fireman had just completed the toilsome opera- 
 tion once more of stuffing the furnace, while floods 
 of perspiration were coursing down a chest hairy 
 as Esau's in the Scripture, and as brawny. Here- 
 upon honest Charon lifted up his face, and drawing a 
 dingy shirt sleeve with emphasis athwart his eyes, 
 bleared with smut, responded, " Ay, ay, sir ; it's a sin 
 to Moses, such a trade ;" and seizing incontinently 
 upon a fragment of tin, fashioned by dint of thump- 
 ing into a polygonal dipper of unearthly dimensions, 
 he scooped up a quantity of the turbid fluid through 
 which we were moving, and deep, deep was the 
 potation which, like a succession of rapids, went 
 gurgling down his throat. Marvellously refreshed, 
 the worthy genius dilated, much to my edification, 
 upon the glories of a fireman's life. " Upon this 
 hint I spake" touching the topic of our recent race ; 
 and then were the strings of the old worthy's tongue 
 let loose ; and vehemently amplified he upon "our 
 smart chance of a gallop" and " the slight sprinkling 
 of steam he had managed to push up." "Ah, 
 stranger, I'll allow, and couldn't I have teetotally 
 obfusticated her, and right mightily used her up, 
 hadn't it been I was sort of bashful as to keeping 
 path with such a cursed old mud-turtle ! But it's 
 all done gone ;" and the droughty Charon seized 
 another swig from the unearthly dipper ; and closing 
 hermetically his lantern jaws, and resuming his in-
 
 72 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 fernal labours, to which those of Alcmena's son of 
 of Tartarean Sysiphus were trifles, I had the dis- 
 cretion to betake myself to the upper world. 
 
 During the night, after passing Ste. Genevieve, 
 our steamer landed at a woodyard in the vicinity 
 of that celebrated old fortress, Fort Chartres, 
 erected by the French while in possession of Illi- 
 nois ; once the most powerful fortification in North 
 America, but now a pile of ruins. It is situated 
 about three miles from Prairie de Rocher, a little 
 antiquated French hamlet, the scene of one of Hall's 
 Western Legends. We could see nothing of the 
 old fort from our situation on the boat ; but its vast 
 ruins, though now a shattered heap, and shrouded 
 with forest-trees of more than half a century's 
 growth, are said still to proclaim in their finished 
 and ponderous masonry its ancient grandeur and 
 strength. In front stretches a large island in the 
 stream, which has received from the old ruin a 
 name. It is not a little surprising that there exists 
 no description of this venerable pile worthy its or- 
 igin and eventful history. 
 
 Mississippi River. 

 
 THE FAR WEST, 73 
 
 VII. 
 
 *' The hills ! our mountain-wall, the hills !" 
 
 Alpine Omen, 
 
 *' But thou, exulting and abounding river ! 
 Making thy waves a blessing as they flow 
 Through banks whose beauty would endure for ever, 
 Could man but leave thy bright creation so " 
 
 Ckilde Harold. 
 
 THERE are few objects upon the Mississippi 
 in which the geologist and natural philosopher may 
 claim a deeper interest than that singular series 
 of limestone cliffs already alluded to, which, above 
 its junction with the Ohio, present themselves to 
 the traveller all along the Missouri shore. The 
 principal ridge commences a few miles above Ste. 
 Genevieve ; and at sunrise one morning we found 
 ourselves beneath a huge battlement of crags, rising 
 precipitously from the river to the height of several 
 hundred feet. Seldom have I gazed upon a scene 
 more eminently imposing than that of these hoary 
 old cliffs, when the midsummer-sun, rushing upward 
 from the eastern horizon, bathed their splintered 
 pinnacles and spires and the rifted tree-tops in a 
 flood of golden effulgence. The scene was not 
 unworthy Walter Scott's graphic description of the 
 view from the Trosachs of Loch Katrine, in the 
 " Lady of the Lake :" &? 
 
 " The eastern waves of rising day 
 Roll'd o'er the stream their level way ; 
 
 VOL. I. G *
 
 74 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Each purple peak, each flinty spire, 
 Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
 * * * * # 
 
 Their rocky summits, split and rent, 
 
 Form'd turret, dome, or battlement, 
 
 Or seem'd fantastically set 
 
 With cupola or minaret, 
 
 Wild crests as pagod ever decked 
 
 Or mosque of eastern architect." 
 
 All of these precipices, not less than those on the 
 Ohio, betray palpable indication of having once 
 been swept by the stream ; and the fantastic ex- 
 cavations and cavernous fissures which their bold 
 escarpments expose would indicate a current far 
 more furious and headstrong than that, resistless 
 though it be, which now rolls at their base. The 
 idea receives confirmation from the circumstance 
 that opposite extends the broad American Bottom, 
 whose alluvial character is undisputed. This tract 
 once constituted our western border, whence the 
 name. 
 
 The bluffs of Selma and Herculaneum are dis- 
 tinguished for their beauty and grandeur, not less 
 than for the practical utility to which they have 
 been made subservient. Both places are great de- 
 positories of lead from the mines of the interior, 
 and all along their cliffs, for miles, upon every eligi- 
 ble point, are erected tall towers for the manu- 
 facture of shot. Their appearance in distant view 
 is singularly picturesque, perched lightly upon the 
 pinnacles of towering cliffs, beetling over the flood, 
 which rushes along two hundred feet below. Some 
 of these shot manufactories have been in operation
 
 THE FAR WEST. 75 
 
 for nearly thirty years. Herculaneum has long 
 been celebrated for those in her vicinity. The sit- 
 uation of the town is the mouth of Joachim Creek ; 
 and the singular gap at this point has been aptly 
 compared to an enormous door, thrown open in the 
 cliffs for the passage of its waters. A few miles 
 west of this village is said to exist a great natural 
 curiosity, in shape of a huge rock of limestone, 
 some hundred feet in length, and about fifty feet 
 high. This rock is completely honeycombed with 
 perforations, and has the appearance of having 
 been pierced by the my til us or some other marine 
 insect. 
 
 A few miles above Herculaneum comes in the 
 Platine Creek ; and here commence the " Cornice 
 Rocks," a magnificent escarpment of castellated 
 cliffs some two or three hundred feet in perpendic- 
 ular altitude from the bed of the stream, and ex- 
 tending along the western bank a distance of eight 
 or ten miles. Through the facade of these bluffs 
 pours in the tribute of the Merrimac, a bright, 
 sparkling, beautiful stream. This river is so clear 
 and limpid that it was long supposed to glide over 
 sands of silver; but the idea has been abandoned, 
 and given place to the certainty of an abundant 
 store of lead, and iron, and salt upon its banks, 
 while its source is shaded by extensive forests of 
 the white pine, a material in this section of coun- 
 try almost, if not quite, as valuable. Ancient 
 works of various forms are also found upon the 
 banks of the Merrimac. There is an immense 
 cemetery near the village of Fenton, containing
 
 76 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 thousands of graves of a pigmy size, the largest 
 not exceeding four feet in length. This cemetery 
 is now enclosed and cultivated, so that the graves 
 are no longer visible ; but, previous to this, it is 
 said that headstones were to be seen bearing 
 unintelligible hieroglyphical inscriptions. Human 
 remains, ancient pottery, arrow-heads, and stone 
 axes are daily thrown up by the ploughshare, while 
 the numerous mounds in the vicinity are literally 
 composed of the same materials. Mammoth bones* 
 such as those discovered on the Ohio and in the 
 state of New- York, are said also to have been found 
 at a salt-lick near this stream. 
 
 It was a bright morning, on the fifth day of an 
 exceedingly long passage, that we found ourselves 
 approaching St. Louis. At about noon we were 
 gliding beneath the broad ensign floating from the 
 flagstaff of Jefferson Barracks. The sun was glo- 
 riously bright ; the soft summer wind was rippling 
 the waters, and the clear cerulean of the heavens 
 was imaged in their depths. The site of the quad- 
 rangle of the barracks enclosing the parade is the 
 broad summit of a noble bluff, swelling up from the 
 water, while the outbuildings are scattered pictu- 
 resquely along the interval beneath ; the view from 
 the steamer cannot but strike the traveller as one 
 of much scenic beauty. Passing the venerable vil- 
 lage of Carondelet, with its whitewashed cottages 
 crumbling with years, and old Cahokia buried in 
 the forests on the opposite bank, the gray walls of 
 the Arsenal next stood out before us in the rear of 
 its beautiful esplanade. A fine quay is erected 
 upon the river in front, and the Extensive grounds
 
 THE FAR WEST. 77 
 
 are enclosed by a wall of stone. Sweeping on- 
 ward, the lofty spire and dusky walls of St. Lou- 
 is Cathedral, on rounding a river bend, opened 
 upon the eye, the gilded crucifix gleaming in the 
 sunlight from its lofty summit ; and then the glit- 
 tering cupolas and church domes, and the fresh as- 
 pect of private residences, mingling with the bright 
 foliage of forest-trees interspersed, all swelling gen- 
 tly from the water's edge, recalled vividly the beau- 
 tiful " Mistress of the North," as my eye has often 
 lingered upon her from her magnificent bay. A 
 few more spires, and the illusion would be perfect. 
 For beauty of outline in distant view, St. Louis is 
 deservedly famed. The extended range of lime- 
 stone warehouses circling the shore give to the 
 city a grandeur of aspect, as approached from the 
 water, not often beheld ; while the dense-rolling 
 forest-tops stretching away in the rear, the sharp 
 outline of the towers and roofs against the western 
 sky, and the funereal grove of steamboat-pipes 
 lining the quay, altogether make up a combination 
 of features novel and picturesque. As we ap- 
 proached the landing all the uproar and confusion 
 of a steamboat port was before us, and our own 
 arrival added to the bustle. 
 
 And now, perchance, having escaped the mani- 
 fold perils of sawyer and snag, planter, wreck-heap, 
 and sand-bar, it may not be unbecoming in me, like 
 an hundred other tourists, to gather up a votive of- 
 fering, and if classic allusion be permissible on the 
 waters of the wilderness West hang it up before 
 the shrine of the " Father of Floods." 
 > G2
 
 78 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 It is surely no misnomer that this giant stream 
 has been styled the " eternal river," the " terrible 
 Mississippi ;"* for we may find none other imbody- 
 ing so many elements of the fearful and the sublime. 
 In the wild rice-lakes of the far frozen north, amid 
 a solitude broken only by the shrill clang of the 
 myriad water-fowls, is its home. Gushing out from 
 its fountains clear as the air-bell, it sparkles over 
 the white pebbly sand-beds, and, breaking over the 
 beautiful falls of the " Laughing Water,"! it takes 
 up its majestic march to the distant deep. Rolling 
 onward through the shades of magnificent forests, 
 and hoary, castellated cliffs, and beautiful meadows, 
 its volume is swollen as it advances, until it re- 
 ceives to its bosom a tributary, a rival, a conquer- 
 or, which has roamed three thousand miles for the 
 meeting, and its original features are lost for ever. 
 Its beauty is merged in sublimity ! Pouring along 
 in its deep bed the heaped-up waters of streams 
 which drain the broadest valley on the globe ; 
 sweeping onward in a boiling mass, furious, turbid, 
 always dangerous ; tearing away, from time to time, 
 its deep banks, with their giant colonnades of living 
 verdure, and then, with the stern despotism of a 
 conqueror, flinging them aside again; governed by 
 no principle but its own lawless will, the dark ma- 
 jesty of its features summons up an emotion of the 
 sublime which defies contrast or parallel. And 
 then, when we think of its far, lonely course, jour- 
 neying onward in proud, dread, solitary grandeur, 
 
 * A name of Algonquin origin Missi signifying great, and sept 
 a river, 
 i Indian name for the " Falls of St. AntKony.'*
 
 THE FAR WEST. 79 
 
 through forests dusk with the lapse of centuries, 
 pouring out the ice and snows of arctic lands 
 through every temperature of clime, till at last it 
 heaves free its mighty bosom beneath the Line, we 
 are forced to yield up ourselves in uncontrolled ad- 
 miration of its gloomy magnificence. And its dark, 
 mysterious history, too ; those fearful scenes of 
 which it has alone been the witness ; the venerable 
 tombs of a race departed which shadow its waters ; 
 the savage tribes that yet roam its forests; the 
 germes of civilization expanding upon its borders ; 
 and the deep solitudes, untrodden by man, through 
 which it rolls, all conspire to throng the fancy. 
 Ages on ages and cycles upon cycles have rolled 
 away ; wave after wave has swept the broad fields 
 of the Old World ; an hundred generations have 
 arisen from the cradle and flourished in their fresh- 
 ness, and, like autumn leaflets, have withered in 
 the tomb ; and the Pharaohs and the Ptolemies, the 
 Caesars and the Caliphs, have thundered over the 
 nations and passed away ; and here, amid these 
 terrible solitudes, in the stern majesty of loneliness, 
 and power, and pride, have rolled onward these 
 deep waters to their destiny ! 
 
 " Who gave you your invulnerable life, 
 Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy 1" 
 God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, 
 Answer !" 
 
 There is, perhaps, no stream which presents a 
 greater variety of feature than the Mississippi, or 
 phenomena of deeper interest, whether we regard 
 the soil, productions, and climate of its valley, its 
 individual character and that of its tributaries, or
 
 80 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the outline of its scenery and course. The conflu- 
 ents of this vast stream are numerous, and each 
 one brings a tribute of the soil through which it 
 has roamed. The Missouri pours out its waters 
 heavily charged with the marl of the Rocky Mount- 
 ains, the saffron sands of the Yellow Stone, and the 
 chalk of the White River ; the Ohio holds in its 
 floods the vegetable mould of the Alleghanies, and 
 the Arkansas and Red Rivers bring in the deep- 
 died alluvion of their banks. Each tributary 
 mingles the spoils of its native hills with the gen- 
 eral flood. And yet, after the contributions of so 
 many streams, the remarkable fact is observed 
 that its breadth and volume seem rather diminished 
 than increased. Above the embouchure of the 
 Missouri, fifteen hundred miles from the Mexican 
 gulf, it is broader than at New-Orleans, with scarce 
 one tenth of its water ; and at the foot of St. An- 
 thony's Falls its breadth is but one third less. This 
 forms a striking characteristic of the Western riv- 
 ers, and owes, perhaps, its origin partially to the tur- 
 bid character of their waters : as they approach 
 their outlet they augment in volume, and depth, and 
 impetuosity of current, but contract their expanse. 
 None, however, exhibit these features so strikingly 
 as the grand central stream ; and while, for its 
 body of water, it is the narrowest stream known, 
 it is charged with heavier solutions and has broad- 
 er alluvions than any other. The depth of the 
 stream is constantly varying. At New-Orleans it 
 exceeds one hundred feet. Its width is from half 
 of one mile to two miles ; the breadth of its valley
 
 THE FAR WEST. 81 
 
 from six miles to sixty ; the rapidity of its current 
 from two miles to four ; its mean descent six inches 
 in a mile, and its annual floods vary from twelve 
 feet to sixty, commencing in March and ending in 
 May. Thus much for Statistics. 
 
 Below its confluence with its turbid tributary, the 
 Mississippi, as has been observed, is no longer the 
 clear, pure, limpid stream, gushing forth from the 
 wreathy snows of the Northwest; but it whirls 
 along against its ragged banks a resistless volume 
 of heavy, sweeping floods, and its aspect of placid 
 magnificence is beheld no more. The turbid tor- 
 rent heaves onward, wavering from side to side 
 like a living creature, as if to overleap its bounds ; 
 rolling along in a deep-cut race-path, through a 
 vast expanse of lowland meadow, from whose ex- 
 haustless mould are reared aloft those enormous 
 shafts shrouded in the fresh emerald of their tas- 
 selled parasites, for which its alluvial bottoms are so 
 famous. And yet the valley of the " endless river" 
 cannot be deemed heavily timbered when contrast- 
 ed with the forested hills of the Ohio. The syca- 
 more, the elm, the linden, the cotton- wood, the cy- 
 press, and other trees of deciduous foliage, may 
 attain a greater diameter, but the huge trunks are 
 more sparse and more isolated in recurrence. 
 
 But one of the most striking phenomena of the 
 Mississippi, in common with all the Western rivers, 
 and one which distinguishes them from those which 
 disembogue their waters into the Atlantic, is the 
 uniformity of its meanderings. The river, in its 
 onward course, makes a semicircular sweep al-
 
 82 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 most with the precision of a compass, and then is 
 precipitated diagonally athwart its channel to a 
 curve of equal regularity upon the opposite shore. 
 The deepest channel and most rapid current is 
 said to exist in the bend ; and thus the stream gen- 
 erally infringes upon the bend-side, and throws up 
 a sandbar on the shore opposite. So constantly 
 do these sinuosities recur, that there are said to be 
 but three reaches of any extent between the con- 
 fluence of the Ohio and the Gulf, and so uniform 
 that the boatmen and Indians have been accustom- 
 ed to estimate their progress by the number of 
 bends rather than by the number of miles. One 
 of the sweeps of the Missouri is said to include a 
 distance of forty miles in its curve, and a circuit of 
 half that distance is not uncommon. Sometimes 
 a " cut-off" in the parlance of the watermen, is pro- 
 duced at these bends, where the stream, in its head- 
 long course, has burst through the narrow neck of 
 the peninsula, around which it. once circled. At a 
 point called the "Grand Cut-off," steamers now 
 pass through an isthmus of less than one mile, 
 where formerly was required a circuit of twenty. 
 The current, in its more furious stages, often tears 
 up islands from the bed of the river, removes 
 sandbars and points, and sweeps off whole acres 
 of alluvion with their superincumbent forests. In 
 the season of flood the settlers, in their log-cabins 
 along the banks, are often startled from their sleep 
 by the deep, sullen crash of a "land-slip," as such 
 removals are called. 
 
 The scenery of the Mississippi, below its con- 
 

 
 THE FAR WEST. 83 
 
 fluence with the Missouri, is, as has been remarked, 
 too sublime for beauty ; and yet there is not a 
 little of the picturesque in the views which meet 
 the eye along the banks. Towns and settlements 
 of greater or less extent appear at frequent inter- 
 vals ; and then the lowly log-hut of the pioneer 
 is not to be passed without notice, standing be- 
 neath the tall, branchless columns of the girdled 
 forest-trees, with its luxuriant maize-fields sweep- 
 ing away in the rear. One of these humble habi- 
 tations of the wilderness we reached, I remember, 
 one evening near twilight ; and while our boat was 
 delayed at the woodyard, I strolled up from the 
 shore to the gateway, and entered easily into con- 
 fabulation with a pretty, slatternly-looking female, 
 with a brood of mushroom, flaxen-haired urchins 
 at her apron-string, and an infant at the breast very 
 quietly receiving his supper. On inquiry I learned 
 that eighteen years had seen the good woman a 
 denizen of the wilderness ; that all the responsibil- 
 ities appertained unto herself, and that her " man" 
 was proprietor of some thousand acres of bottom 
 in the vicinity. Subsequently I was informed that 
 the worthy woodcutter could be valued at not less 
 than one hundred thousand ! yet, en verite, reader 
 mine, I do asseverate that my latent sympathies 
 were not slightly roused at the first introduction, 
 because of the seeming poverty of the dirty cabin 
 and its dirtier mistress ! 
 St. Louis.
 
 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 VJII. 
 
 " Once more upon the waters, yet once more !" 
 
 Childe Harold. 
 
 " I believe this is the finest confluence in the world." 
 
 CHARLEVOIX. 
 
 " 'Tis twilight now ; 
 
 The sovereign sun behind his western hills 
 In glory hath declined." 
 
 BLACKWOOD'S Magazine. 
 
 A BRIGHT, sunny summer morning as ever smiled 
 from the blue heavens, and again I found myself 
 upon the waters. Fast fading in the distance lay 
 the venerable little city of the French, with its an- 
 cient edifices and its narrow streets, while in anti- 
 cipation was a journeying of some hundred miles up 
 the Illinois. Sweeping along past the city and the 
 extended line of steamers at the landing, my atten- 
 tion was arrested by that series of substantial 
 stone mills situated upon the shore immediately 
 above, and a group of swarthy little Tritons dis- 
 porting themselves in the turbid waters almost be- 
 neath our paddle-wheels. Among other singular 
 objects were divers of those nondescript inventions 
 of Captain Shreve, yclept by the boatmen " Uncle 
 Sam's Tooth-pullers ;" and, judging from their fero- 
 cious physiognomy, and the miracles they have 
 effected in the navigation of the great waters of the 
 West, well do they correspond to the soubriquet.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 85 
 
 The craft consists of two perfect hulls, constructed 
 \vith a view to great strength ; united by heavy 
 beams, and, in those parts most exposed, protected 
 by an armature of iron. The apparatus for eradi- 
 cating the snags is comprised in a simple wheel 
 and axle, auxiliary to a pair of powerful steam-en- 
 gines, with the requisite machinery for locomotion, 
 and a massive beam uniting the bows of the hulls, 
 sheathed with iron. The modus operandi in tear- 
 ing up a snag, or sawyer, or any like obstruction 
 from the bed of the stream, appears to be this : 
 Commencing at some distance below, in order to 
 gain an impetus as powerful as possible, the boat 
 is forced, under a full pressure of steam, against the 
 snag, the head of which, rearing itself above the 
 water, meets the strong transverse beam of which 
 I have spoken, and is immediately elevated a num- 
 ber of feet above the surface. A portion of the 
 log is then severed, and the roots are torn out by 
 the windlass, or application of the main strength 
 of the engines ; or, if practicable, the first operation 
 is repeated until the obstacle is completely eradi- 
 cated. The efficiency of this instrument has been 
 tested by the removal of some thousand obstruc- 
 tions, at an average expense of about twelve or 
 fifteen dollars each. 
 
 Along the river- banks in the northern suburbs of 
 the city lie the scattered ruins of an ancient fortifi- 
 cation of the Spanish government, when it held dom- 
 ination over the territory ; and one circular struc- 
 ture of stone, called " Roy's Tower," now occupied 
 as a dwelling, yet remains entire. There is also an 
 
 VOL. I. H >
 
 86 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 old castle of stone in tolerable preservation, sur- 
 rounded by a wall of the same material. Some of 
 these venerable relics of former time alas! for 
 the irreverence of the age have been converted 
 into limekilns, and into lime itself, for aught that is 
 known to the contrary ! The waterworks, General 
 Ashley's beautiful residence, and that series of an- 
 cient mounds for which St. Louis is famous, were 
 next passed in succession, while upon the right 
 stretched out the long low outline of "Blood Island" 
 in the middle of the stream. For several miles 
 above the city, as we proceeded up the river, pleas- 
 ant villas, with their white walls and cultivated 
 grounds, were caught from time to time by the eye, 
 glancing through the green foliage far in the interi- 
 or. It was a glorious day. Silvery cloudlets were 
 floating along the upper sky like spiritual creations, 
 and a fresh breeze was rippling the waters : along 
 the banks stood out the huge spectral Titans of the 
 forest, heaving aloft their naked limbs like monu- 
 ments of " time departed," while beneath reposed 
 the humble hut and clearing of the settler. 
 
 It was nearly midday, after leaving St. Louis, 
 that we reached the embouchure of the Missouri. 
 Twenty miles before attaining that point, the con- 
 fluent streams flow along in two distinct currents 
 upon either shore, the one white, clayey, and troub- 
 led, the other a deep blue. The river sweeps 
 along, indeed, in two distinct streams past the city 
 of St. Louis, upon either side of Blood Island, nor 
 does it unite its heterogeneous floods for many miles 
 below. At intervals, as the huge mass rolls itself
 
 THE FAR WEST. 87 
 
 along, vast whirls and swells of turbid water burst 
 out upon the surface, producing an aspect not un- 
 like the sea in a gusty day, mottled by the shadows 
 of scudding clouds. Charlevoix, the chronicler of 
 the early French explorations in North America, 
 with reference to this giant confluence, more than 
 a century since thus writes : " I believe this is the 
 finest confluence in the world. The two rivers 
 are much of the same breadth, each about half a 
 league, but the Missouri is by far the most rapid, 
 and seems to enter the Mississippi like a conqueror, 
 through which it carries its white waves to the op- 
 posite shore without mixing them. Afterward it 
 gives its colour to the Mississippi, which it never 
 loses again, but carries quite down to the sea." This 
 account, with all due consideration for the venera- 
 ble historian, accords not precisely with the scene 
 of the confluence at the present day, at least not 
 as it has appeared to myself. The Missouri, in- 
 deed, rolls in its heavy volume with the impetuos- 
 ity and bearing of a " conqueror" upon the tranquil 
 surface of its rival ; but entering, as it does, at right 
 angles, its waters are met in their headlong course, 
 and almost rolled back upon themselves for an in- 
 stant by the mighty momentum of the flood they 
 strike. This is manifested by, and accounts for, 
 that well-defined line of light mud-colour extending 
 from bank to bank across its mouth, bounded by 
 the dark blue of the Upper Mississippi, and flow- 
 ing sluggishly along in a lengthened and dingy 
 stain, like a fringe upon the western shore. The 
 breadth of the embouchure is about one mile, and its
 
 88 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 channel lies nearly in the centre, bounded by vast 
 sand-bars sediment of the waters upon either 
 side. The alluvial deposites, with which it is heavi- 
 ly charged, accumulate also in several islands near 
 the confluence, while the rivers united spread them- 
 selves out into an immense lake. As the steamer 
 glides along among these islands opposite the Mis- 
 souri, the scene with its associations is grand be- 
 yond description. Far up the extended vista of 
 the stream, upon a lofty bluff, stands out a struc- 
 ture which marks the site of the ancient military 
 post of " Belle Fontaine ;" while on the opposite 
 bank, stretching inland from the point heavily wood- 
 ed, lies the broad and beautiful prairie of the " Ma- 
 melles." Directly fronting the confluence stand a 
 range of heights upon the Illinois shore, from the 
 summit of which is spread out, like a painting, one 
 of the most extraordinary views in the world. 
 
 The Mississippi, above its junction with its tur- 
 bid tributary, is, as has been remarked, a clear, 
 sparkling, beautiful stream ; now flashing in sil- 
 very brilliance over its white sand-bars, then re- 
 treating far into the deep indentations of its shady 
 banks, and again spreading out its waters into a 
 tranquil, lakelike basin miles in extent, studded with 
 islets. 
 
 The far-famed village of Alton, situated upon the 
 Illinois shore a few miles above the confluence, soon 
 rose before us in the distance. When its multiform 
 declivities shall have been smoothed away by the 
 hand of enterprise and covered with handsome ed- 
 ifices, it will doubtless present a fine appearance
 
 THE FAR WEST. 89 
 
 from the water ; as it now remains, its aspect is 
 rugged enough. The Penitentiary, a huge structure 
 of stone, is rather too prominent a feature in the 
 scene. Indeed, it is the first object which strikes 
 the attention, and reminds one of a gray old baronial 
 castle of feudal days more than of anything else. 
 The churches, of which there are several, and the 
 extensive warehouses along the shore, have an 
 imposing aspect, and offer more agreeable asso- 
 ciations. As we drew nigh to Alton, the .fireman 
 of our steamer deemed proper, in testimonial of the 
 dignity of our arrival, to let off a certain rusty old 
 swivel which chanced to be on board 5 and to have 
 witnessed the marvellous fashion in which this im- 
 portant manoeuvre was executed by our worthies, 
 would have pardoned a smile on the visage of He- 
 raclitus himself. One lanky-limbed genius held a 
 huge dipper of gunpowder; another, seizing upon 
 the extremity of a hawser, and severing a generous 
 fragment, made use thereof for wadding ; a third 
 rammed home the charge with that fearful weapon 
 wherewith he poked the furnaces ; while a fourth, 
 honest wight all preparation being complete ad- 
 vanced with a shovel of glowing coals, which, 
 poured upon the touchhole, the old piece was briefly 
 delivered of its charge, and the woods, and shores, 
 and welkin rang again to the roar. If we made not 
 our entrance into Alton with " pomp and circum- 
 stance," it was surely the fault of any one but our 
 worthy fireman. 
 
 The site of Alton, at the confluence of three large 
 and navigable streams ; its extensive back country
 
 90 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 of great fertility ; the vast bodies of heavy timber on 
 every side ; its noble quarries of stone ; its inexhaust- 
 ible beds of bituminous coal only one mile distant, 
 and its commodious landing, all seem to indicate the- 
 design of Nature that here should arise a populous- 
 and wealthy town. The place has been laid off by 
 its proprietors in liberal style ; five squares have 
 been reserved for public purposes, with a prome- 
 nade and landing, and the corporate bounds extend 
 two miles along the river, and half a mile into the 
 interior. Yet Alton, with all its local and artificial 
 advantages, is obnoxious to objections. Its situation, 
 in one section abrupt and precipitous, while in an- 
 other depressed and confined, and the extensive al- 
 luvion lying between the two great rivers opposite, 
 it is believed, will always render it more or less un- 
 healthy ; and its unenviable proximity to St. Louis 
 will never cease to retard its commercial advance- 
 ment. 
 
 The city of Alton, as it is now styled by its char- 
 ter, was founded in the year 1818 by a gentleman- 
 who gave the place his name ; but, until within the 
 six years past, it could boast but few houses and lit- 
 tle business. Its population now amounts to several 
 thousands, and its edifices for business, private res- 
 idence, or public convenience are large and elegant 
 structures. Its stone churches present an imposing 
 aspect to the visiter. The streets are from forty to- 
 eighty feet in width, and extensive operations are in 
 progress to render the place as uniform as its site will 
 admit. A contract has been recently entered upon 
 to construct a culvert over the Little Piasa Creek,
 
 THE FAR WEST. 91 
 
 which passes through the centre of the town, upon 
 which are to be extended streets. The expense is 
 estimated at sixty thousand dollars. The creek is- 
 sues from a celebrated fountain among the bluffs 
 called " Cave Spring." Alton is not a little cele- 
 brated for its liberal contribution to the moral im- 
 provements of the day. To mention but a solitary 
 instance, a gentleman of the place recently made 
 a donation of ten thousand dollars for the endow- 
 ment of a female seminary at Monticello, a vil- 
 lage five miles to the north ; and measures are in 
 progress to carry the design into immediate execu- 
 tion. Two railroads are shortly to be constructed 
 from. Alton ; one to Springfield, seventy miles dis- 
 tant, and the other to Mount Carmel on the Wa- 
 bash. The stock of each has been mostly sub- 
 scribed, and they cannot fail, when completed, to 
 add much to the importance of the places. Alton 
 is also a proposed terminus of two of the state rail- 
 roads, and of the Cumberland Road. 
 
 At Alton terminates the " American Bottom," 
 and here commences. that singular series of green, 
 grassy mounds, rounding off the steep summits of 
 the cliffs as they rise from the water, which every 
 traveller cannot but have noticed and admired. It 
 was a calm, beautiful evening when we left the vil- 
 lage ; and, gliding beneath the magnificent bluffs, 
 held our way up the stream, breaking in upon its 
 tranquil surface, and rolling its waters upon either 
 side in tumultuous waves to the shore. The rich 
 purple of departing day was dying the western heav- 
 ens ; the light gauzy haze of twilight was unfolding 
 itself like a veil o\^r the forest-tops ; " Maro's shep-
 
 92 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 herd star" was stealing timidly forth upon the brow 
 of night ; the flashing fireflies along the underbrush 
 were beginning their splendid illuminations, and 
 the mild melody of a flute and a few fine voices 
 floating over the shadowy waters, lent the last 
 touching to a scene of beauty. A little French vil- 
 lage, with its broad galleries, and steep roofs, and 
 venerable church, in a few miles appeared among 
 the underbrush on the left. Upon the opposite 
 shore the bluffs began to assume a singular aspect, 
 as if the solid mass of limestone high up had been 
 subjected to the excavation of rushing waters. The 
 cliffs elevated themselves from the river's edge like 
 a regular succession of enormous pillars, rendered 
 more striking by their ashy hue. This giant col- 
 onnade in some places exceeding an altitude of an 
 hundred feet, and exhibiting in its fa9ade the open- 
 ings of several caves extended along the stream 
 until we reached Grafton, at the mouth of the Il- 
 linois ; the calm, beautiful, ever-placid Illinois ; 
 beautiful now as on the day the enthusiast voyageur 
 first deemed it the pathway .to a "paradise upon 
 earth." The moon was up, and her beams were 
 resting mellowly upon the landscape. Far away, 
 even to the blue horizon, the mirror-surface of the 
 stream unfolded its vistas to the eye ; upon its bo- 
 som slumbered the bright islets, like spirits of the 
 waters, from whose clear depths stood out the re- 
 flection of their forests, while to the left opened upon 
 the view a glimpse of the " Mamelle Prairie," roll- 
 ing its bright waves of verdure beneath the moon- 
 light like a field of fairy land. For an hour we 
 gazed upon this magnificent sce^ie, and the bright
 
 THE FAR WEST. 93 
 
 waves dashed in sparkles from our bow, retreating 
 in lengthened wake behind us, until our steamer 
 turned from the Mississippi, and we were gliding 
 along beneath the deep shadows of the forested Il- 
 linois. 
 Illinois River. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " A tale of the times of old ! The deeds of dajss of other 
 years !" OSSIAN. 
 
 " Thou beautiful river ! Thy bosom is calm, 
 And o'er thee soft breezes are shedding their balm ; 
 And Nature beholds her fair features portray'd, 
 In the glass of thy bosom serenely display'd." 
 
 BENGAL ANNUAL. 
 
 " Tarn saw an unco sight." 
 
 BURNS. 
 
 IT is an idea which has more than once occurred 
 to me, while throwing together these hasty delinea- . 
 tions of the beautiful scenes through which, for the 
 past few weeks, I have been moving, that, by some, 
 a disposition might be suspected to tinge every out- 
 line indiscriminately with the " coleur de rose" 
 But as well might one talk of an exaggerated emo- 
 tion of the sublime on the table-rock of Niagara, 
 or amid the " snowy scalps" of Alpine scenery, or 
 of a mawkish sensibility to loveliness amid the pur- 
 ple glories of the "-Campagna di Roma" as of ei- 
 ther, or of both combined, in the noble " valley be- 
 yond the mountains.^ N>or is the interest experi-
 
 94 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 enced by the traveller for many of the spots he 
 passes confined to their scenic beauty. The associ- 
 ations of by-gone times are rife in the mind, and the 
 traditionary legend of the events these scenes have 
 witnessed yet lingers among the simple forest-sons. 
 I have mentioned that remarkable range of cliffs 
 commencing at Alton, and extending, with but little 
 interruption, along the left shore of the Mississippi to 
 the mouth of the Illinois. Through a deep, narrow 
 ravine in these bluffs flows a small stream called 
 the Piasa. The name is of aboriginal derivation, 
 and, in the idiom of the Illini, denotes " The bird 
 that devours men" Near the mouth of this little 
 stream rises a bold, precipitous bluff, and upon its 
 smooth face, at an elevation seemingly unattainable 
 by human art, is graven the figure of an enormous 
 bird with extended pinions. This bird was by the 
 Indians called the " Piasa /" hence the name of the 
 stream. The tradition of the Piasa is said to be 
 still extant among the tribes of the Upper Missis- 
 sippi, and is thus related : 
 
 " Many thousand moons before the arrival of the 
 pale faces, when the great megalonyx and mastodon, 
 whose bones are now thrown up, were still living in 
 the land of the green prairies, there existed a bird 
 of such dimensions that he could easily carry off in 
 his talons a full-grown deer. Having obtained a 
 taste of human flesh, from that time he would prey 
 upon nothing else. He was as artful as he was pow- 
 erful ; would dart suddenly and unexpectedly upon an 
 Indian, bear him off to one of the caves in the bluff, 
 and devour him. Hundreds of warriors attempt- 
 ed for years to destroy him, ut without success.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 95 
 
 Whole villages were depopulated, and consterna- 
 tion spread throughout all the tribes of the Illini. 
 At length Owatoga, a chief whose fame as a war- 
 rior extended even beyond the great lakes, separating 
 himself from the rest of his tribe, fasted in solitude 
 for the space of a whole moon, and prayed to the 
 Great Spirit, the Master of Life, that he would 
 protect his children from the Piasa. On the last 
 night of his fast the Great Spirit appeared to him 
 in a dream, and directed him to select twenty of 
 his warriors, each armed with a bow and pointed 
 arrows, and conceal them in a designated spot. 
 Near the place of their concealment another warrior 
 was to stand in open view as a victim for the Piasa, 
 which they must shoot the instant he pounced upon 
 his prey. When the chief awoke in the morning 
 he thanked the Great Spirit, returned to his tribe, 
 and told them his dream. The warriors were 
 quickly selected and placed in ambush. Owatoga 
 offered himself as the victim, willing to die for his 
 tribe ; and, placing himself in open view of the bluff, 
 he soon saw the Piasa perched on the cliff, eying 
 his prey. Owatoga drew up his manly form to its 
 utmost height ; and, placing his feet firmly upon the 
 earth, began to chant the death-song of a warrior : 
 a moment after, the Piasa rose in the air, and, 
 swift as the thunderbolt, darted down upon the 
 chief. Scarcely had he reached his victim when 
 every bow was sprung and every arrow was sped to 
 the feather into his body. The Piasa uttered a wild, 
 fearful scream, that resounded far over the opposite 
 side of the river, and expired. Owatoga was safe.
 
 96 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Not an arrow, not even the talons of the bird had 
 touched him ; for the Master of Life, in admiration 
 of his noble deed, had held over him an invisible 
 shield. In memory of this event, this image of the 
 Piasa was engraved in the face of the bluff." 
 
 Such is the Indian tradition. True or false, the 
 figure of the bird, with expanded wings, graven upon 
 the surface of solid rock, is still to be seen at a 
 height perfectly inaccessible ; and to this day no 
 Indian glides beneath the spot in his canoe without 
 discharging at this figure his gun. Connected with 
 this tradition, as the spot to which the Piasa con- 
 veyed his human victims, is one of those caves to 
 which I have alluded. Another, near the mouth of 
 the Illinois, situated about fifty feet from the water, 
 and exceedingly difficult of access, is said to be 
 crowded with human remains to the depth of many 
 feet in the earth of the floor. The roof of the cav- 
 ern is vaulted. It is about twenty-five feet in height, 
 thirty in length, and in form is very irregular. There 
 are several other cavernous fissures among these 
 cliffs not unworthy description. 
 
 The morning's dawn found our steamer gliding 
 quietly along upon the bright waters of the Illinois. 
 The surface of the stream was tranquil; not a rip- 
 ple disturbed its slumbers ; it was currentless ; the 
 mighty mass of the Mississippi was swollen, and, 
 acting as a dam across the mouth of its tributary, 
 caused a back-water of an hundred miles. The 
 waters of the Illinois were consequently stagnant, 
 tepid, and by no means agreeable to the taste. 
 There was present, also, a peculiarly bitter twang,
 
 THE FAR WEST, 97 
 
 thought to be imparted by the roots of the trees and 
 plants along its banks, which, when motionless, 
 its waters steep ; under these circumstances, water 
 is always provided from the Mississippi before en- 
 tering the mouth of the Illinois* But, whatever its 
 qualities, this stream, to the eye, is one of the most 
 beautiful that meanders the earth. As we glided 
 onward upon its calm bosom, a graceful little fawn, 
 standing upon the margin in the morning sunlight, 
 was bending her large, lustrous eyes upon the deli- 
 cate reflection of her form, mirrored in the stream ; 
 and, like the fabled Narcissus, so enamoured did she 
 appear with the charm of her own loveliness, that 
 our noisy approach seemed scarce to startle her ; or 
 perchance she was the pet of some neighbouring 
 log-cabin. The Illinois is by many considered the 
 " belle riviere''' of the Western waters, and, in a 
 commercial and agricultural view, is destined, doubt- 
 less, to occupy an important rank. Tonti, the old 
 French chronicler, speaks thus of it : " The banks of 
 that river are as charming to the eye as useful to life ; 
 the meadows, fruit-trees, and forests affording every- 
 thing that is necessary for men and beasts." It 
 traverses the entire length of one of the most fertile 
 regions in the Union, and irrigates, by its tributary 
 streams, half the breadth. Its channel is sufficiently 
 deep for steamers of the larger class ; its current is 
 uniform, and the obstacles to its navigation are few, 
 and may be easily removed. The chief of these is 
 a narrow bar just below the town of Beardstown, 
 stretching like a wing-dam quite across to the west- 
 ern bank ; and any boat which may pass this bar 
 VOL. I. I s >
 
 98 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 can at all times reach the port of the Rapids* Its 
 length is about three hundred miles, and its narrow- 
 est part, opposite Peru, is about eighty yards in 
 width. By means of a canal, uniting its waters with 
 those of Lake Michigan, the internal navigation of 
 the whole country from New- York to New-Orleans 
 is designed to be completed. 
 
 The banks of the Illinois are depressed and mo- 
 notonous, liable at all seasons to inundation, and 
 stretch away for miles to the bluffs in broad prai- 
 ries, glimpses of whose lively emerald and silvery 
 lakes, caught at intervals through the dark fringe of 
 cypress skirting the stream, are very refreshing. 
 The bottom lands upon either side, from one mile to 
 five, are seldom elevated much above the ordinary 
 surface of the stream, and are at every higher stage 
 of water submerged to the depth of many feet, pre- 
 senting the appearance of a stream rolling its tide 
 through an ancient arid gloomy forest, luxuriant in 
 foliage and vast in extent. It is not surprising that all 
 these regions should be subject to the visitations of 
 disease, when we look upon the miserable cabin of 
 the woodcutter, reared upon the very verge of the 
 water, surrounded on every side by swamps, and en- 
 veloped in their damp dews and the poisonous exha- 
 lations rising from the seething decomposition of the 
 monstrous vegetation around. The traveller won- 
 ders not at the sallow complexion, the withered fea- 
 tures, and the fleshless, ague-racked limbs, which, as 
 he passes, peep forth upon him from the luxuriant fo- 
 liage of this region of sepulchres ; his only astonish- 
 ment is, that in such an atmosphere the human con-
 
 THE PAR WEST. 99 
 
 stitution can maintain vitality at all. And yet, never 
 did the poet's dream image scenery more enchant- 
 ing than is sometimes unfolded upon this beautiful 
 stream. I loved, on a bright sunny morning, to 
 linger hours away upon the lofty deck, as our 
 steamer thridded the green islets of the winding 
 waters, and gaze upon the reflection of the blue sky 
 flecked with cloudlets in the bluer wave beneath, 
 and watch the startling splash of the glittering fish, 
 as, in exhilarated joyousness, he flung himself from 
 its tranquil bosom, and then fell back again into its 
 cool depths. Along the shore strode the blue- 
 backed wader ; the wild buck bounded to his thick- 
 et ; the graceful buzzard vulture of the West 
 soared majestically over the tree-tops, while the fit- 
 ful chant of the fireman at his toil echoed and re- 
 echoed through the recesses of the forests. 
 
 Upon the left, in ascending the Illinois, lie the 
 lands called the " Military Bounty Tract" reserved 
 by Congress for distribution among the soldiers of 
 the late war with Great Britain. It is comprehend- 
 ed within the peninsula of the Illinois and Missis- 
 sippi Rivers, about an hundred and seventy miles 
 in length and sixty broad, embracing twelve of the 
 northwest counties of the state. This tract of coun- 
 try is said to be exceedingly fertile, abounding in 
 beautiful prairies and lakes ; but the delta or alluvial 
 regions cannot but prove unhealthy. Its disposition 
 for the purpose of military bounties has retarded its 
 settlement behind that of any other quarter of the 
 state ; a very inconsiderable portion has been ap- 
 propriated by the soldiers ; most of the titles have
 
 100 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 long since departed, and the land has been disposed 
 of past redemption for taxes. Much is also held 
 by non-residents, who estimate it at an exorbitant 
 value ; but large tracts can be obtained for a trifling 
 consideration, the purchaser risking the title, and 
 many flourishing settlements are now springing up, 
 especially along the Mississippi. 
 
 Near the southern extremity of the Military Tract, 
 at a point where the river sweeps out a deep bend 
 from its western bank, about fifty years since was 
 situated the little French village of Cape au Gris, 
 or Grindstone Point, so named from the neighbour- 
 ing rocks. The French seem to have vied with 
 the natives in rendering the " signification" con- 
 formable to the " thing signified,'* in bestowing 
 names upon their explorations in the West. The 
 village of Cape au Gris was situated upon the bank 
 of the river, and, so late as 1 811 , consisted of twenty 
 or thirty families, who cultivated a " common field" 
 of five hundred acres on the adjacent prairie, stretch- 
 ing across the peninsula towards the Mississippi. 
 At the commencement of the late war they were 
 driven away by the savages, and a small garrison 
 from the cantonment of Belle Fontaine, at the conflu- 
 ence, was subsequently stationed near the spot by 
 General Wilkinson. A few years after the close of 
 the war American emigration commenced. This 
 is supposed to have been the site, also, of one of the 
 forts erected by La Salle on his second visit to the 
 West. 
 
 As we ascended the Illinois, flourishing villages 
 were constantly meeting the eye upon either bank of 
 the stream. Among these we?e the euphonious
 
 THE FAR WEST. 101 
 
 names of Monroe, Montezuma, Naples, and Havana ! 
 At Beardstown the rolling prairie is looked upon for 
 the first time ; it afterward frequently recurs. As 
 our steamer drew nigh to the renowned little city of 
 Pekin, we beheld the bluffs lined with people of all 
 sexes and sizes, watching our approach as we round- 
 ed up to the landing. Some of our passengers, sur- 
 prised at such a gathering together in such a decent, 
 well-behaved little settlement as Pekin, sagely sur- 
 mised the loss of a day from the calendar, and be- 
 gan to believe it the first instead of the last of the 
 week, until reflection and observation induced the be- 
 lief that other rites than those of religion had called 
 the multitude together. Landing, streets, tavern, 
 and groceries which latter, be it spoken of the re- 
 nowned Pekin, were like anything but " angel's vis- 
 its" in recurrence all were swarmed by a motley as- 
 semblage, seemingly intent upon doing nothing, and 
 that, too, in the noisiest way. Here a congregation 
 of keen-visaged worthies were gathered around a 
 loquacious land-speculator, beneath the shadow of 
 a sign-post, listening to an eloquent holding-forth 
 upon the merits, relative and distinctive, of prairie 
 land and bluff; there a cute-looking personage, with 
 a twinkle of the eye and sanctimoniousness of phiz, 
 was vending his wares by the token of a flaunting 
 strip of red baize ; while lusty viragoes, with infants 
 at the breast, were battering their passage through 
 the throng, crowing over a "bargain" on which the 
 " cute" pedler had cleared not more than cent, per 
 cent. And then there were sober men and men 
 not sober ; individuals half seas over and whole seas
 
 102 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 over, all in as merry trim as well might be ; while, 
 as a sort of presiding genius over the Bacchanalia, a 
 worthy wag, tipsy as a satyr, in a long calico gown, 
 was prancing through the multitude, with infinite 
 importance, on the skeleton of an unhappy horse, 
 which, between nicking and docking, a spavined 
 limb and a spectral eye, looked the veritable genius 
 of misery. The cause of all this commotion ap- 
 peared to be neither more nor less than a redoubted 
 "monkey show," which had wound its way over 
 the mountains into the regions of the distant West, 
 and reared its dingy canvass upon the smooth sward 
 of the prairie. It was a spectacle by no means to be 
 slighted, and " divers came from afar" to behold its 
 wonders. 
 
 For nothing, perhaps, have foreign tourists in our 
 country ridiculed us more justly than for that pom- 
 posity of nomenclature which we have delighted 
 to apply to the thousand and one towns and villages 
 sprinkled over our maps and our land; instance 
 whereof this same renowned representative of the 
 Celestial Empire concerning which I have been 
 writing. Its brevity is its sole commendation ; for 
 as to the taste or appropriateness of such a name 
 for such a place, to say naught of the euphony, 
 there's none. And then, besides Pekin, there are 
 Romes, and Troys, and Palmyras, and Belgrades, 
 Londons and Liverpools, Babels and Babylons with- 
 out account, all rampant in the glories of log huts, 
 with sturdy porkers forth issuing from their sties, 
 by way, doubtless, of the sturdy knight-errants of 
 yore caracoling from the sallyports of their illus-
 
 T-:il3 FAR WEST. 103 
 
 trious namesakes. But why, in the name of all pro- 
 priety, this everlasting plagiarizing of the Greek, 
 Gothic, Gallic patronymics of the Old World, so 
 utterly incongruous as applied to the backwoods 
 settlements of the New ! If in very poverty of in- 
 vention, or in the meagerness of our " land's lan- 
 guage," we, as a people, feel ourselves unequal to 
 the task one, indeed, of no ordinary magnitude 
 of christening all the newborn villages of our land 
 with melodious and appropriate appellations, may it 
 not be advisable either to nominate certain worthy 
 dictionary-makers for the undertaking, or else to re- 
 tain the ancient Indian names ? Why discard the 
 smooth-flowing, expressive appellations bestowed 
 by the injured aborigines upon the gliding streams 
 and flowery plains of this land of their fathers, only 
 to supersede them by affixes most foreign and ab- 
 surd? "Is this proceeding just and honourable" 
 towards that unfortunate race ? Have we visited 
 them with so many returns of kindness that this 
 would overflow the cup of recompense ? Why tear 
 away the last and only relic of the past yet linger- 
 ing in our midst ? Have we too many memorials 
 of the olden time ? Why disrobe the venerable 
 antique of that classic drapery which alone can 
 befit the severe nobility of its mien, only to deck it 
 out in the starched and tawdry preciseness of a de- 
 generate taste ? 
 Illinois River.
 
 104 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 " It is a goodly sight to see 
 What Heaven hath done for this delicious land ! 
 What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree ! 
 What goodly prospects o'er the hills expand !" ' 
 
 Ckilde Harold. 
 
 " GOOD-EVENING, sir ; a good-evening to ye, sir ; 
 pleased with our village, sir !" This was the frank 
 and free salutation a genteel, farmer-looking person- 
 age, with a broad face, a broad-brimmed hat, and a 
 broad-skirted coat, addressed to me as I stood be- 
 fore the inn door at Peoria, looking out upon her 
 beautiful lake. On learning, in reply to his inquiry, 
 "Whence do ye come, stranger?" that my birth- 
 spot was north of the Potomac, he hailed me with 
 hearty greeting and warm grasp as a brother. " I 
 am a Yankee, sir ; yes, sir, I am a genuine export 
 of the old * Bay State.' Many years have gone 
 since I left her soil ; but I remember well the ' Mis- 
 tress of the North,' with her green islands and blue 
 waters. In my young days, sir, I wandered all over 
 the six states, and I have not forgotten the valley 
 of the Connecticut. I have seen the ' Emporium* 
 with her Neapolitan bay, and I have looked on 
 the ' city of the monuments and fountains ;' but in 
 all my journey ings, stranger, I have not found a 
 spot so pleasant as this little quiet Peoria of the 
 Western wilderness !" Whether to smile in admi-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 105 
 
 ration or to smile at the oddity of this singular com- 
 pound of truth and exaggeration, propounded, withal, 
 in such grandiloquent style and language, I was at 
 a loss ; and so, just as every prudent man would 
 have acted under the circumstances, neither was 
 done ; and the quiet remark, "You are an enthusi- 
 ast, sir," was all that betrayed to the worthy man 
 the emotions of the sublime and ridiculous of which 
 he had been the unwitting cause. 
 
 But, truly, the little town with this soft Indian 
 name is a beautiful place, as no one who has ever 
 visited it has failed to remark. The incidents of 
 its early history are fraught with the wild and ro- 
 mantic. The old village of Peoria was one of the 
 earliest settlements of the French in the Mississippi 
 Valley ; and, many years before the memory of the 
 present generation, it had been abandoned by its 
 founders, a new village having been erected upon 
 the present site, deemed less unhealthy than the 
 former. The first house is said to have been built 
 in new Peoria, or La ville de Maillet, as was its nom 
 de nique, about the year 1778 ; and the situation 
 was directly at the outlet of the lake, one mile and 
 a half below the old settlement. Its inhabitants 
 consisted chiefly of that wild, semi-savage race of 
 Indian traders, hunters, trappers, voyageurs, couri- 
 ers du bois, and half-breeds, which long formed the 
 sole link of union between the northern lakes and the 
 southwest. After residing nearly half a century on 
 this pleasant spot, in that happy harmony with their 
 ferocious neighbours for which the early French 
 were so remarkable, they were at length, in the
 
 106 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 autumn of 1812, exiled from their ancient home by 
 the militia of Illinois, on charge of conniving at In- 
 dian atrocities upon our people, a party having been 
 fired on at night while anchored before the vil- 
 lage in their boats. The villagers fled for refuge 
 to their friends upon the Mississippi. In the au- 
 tumn of the succeeding year, General Howard, with 
 1400 men, ascended the Illinois; a fortress was con- 
 structed at Peoria in twelve days from timber cut 
 on the opposite side of the lake. It was named 
 Fort Clarke, and was occupied by a detachment of 
 United States' troops. In course of a few weeks the 
 whole frontier was swept of hostile Indians. On the 
 termination of hostilities with Great Britain the fort 
 was abandoned, and soon after was burned by the In- 
 dians, though the ruins are yet to be seen. The 
 present settlement was commenced by emigrants 
 but a few years since, and has advanced with a ra- 
 pidity scarcely paralleled even in the West. Geo- 
 graphically, it is the centre of the state, and may at 
 some future day become its seat of government. It 
 is the shire town of a county of the same name ; 
 has a handsome courthouse of freestone ; the neigh- 
 bouring regions are fertile, and beds of bituminous 
 coal are found in the vicinity. These circumstances 
 render this spot, than which few can boast a more 
 eventful history, one of the most eligible locales in 
 the state for the emigrant. Its situation is indescri- 
 bably beautiful, extending along the lake of the same 
 name, the Indian name of which was Pinatahwee, 
 for several miles from its outlet. This water-sheet, 
 which is little more than an expansion of the stream 
 of from one to three miles, s^retrhes away for about
 
 THE FAR WEST. 107 
 
 twenty, and is divided near its middle by a contrac- 
 tion called the Narrows. Its waters are exceeding- 
 ly limpid, gliding gently over a pebbly bottom, and 
 abounding in fish of fifty different species, from which 
 an attempt for obtaining oil upon a large scale was 
 commenced a few years since, but was abandoned 
 without success. Some of the varieties of these fish 
 are said to be rare and curious. Several specimens 
 of a species called the " Alligator Garr" have been 
 taken. The largest was about seven feet in length, 
 a yard in circumference, and encased in armour of 
 hornlike scales of quadrilateral form, impenetrable 
 to a rifle-ball. The weight was several hundred 
 pounds ; the form and the teeth of which there were 
 several rows similar to those of the shark, and, upon 
 the whole, the creature seemed not a whit less for- 
 midable. Another singular variety found is the 
 " spoonfish," about four feet in length, with a black 
 skin, and an extension of the superior mandible for 
 two feet, of a thin, flat, shovel-like form, used proba- 
 bly for digging its food. The more ordinary species, 
 pike, perch, salmon, trout, buffalo, mullet, and cat- 
 fish, abound in the lake, while the surface is covered 
 with geese, ducks, gulls, a species of water turkey, 
 and, not unfrequently, swans and pelicans. Its bot- 
 tom contains curious petrifactions and carnelions of 
 a rare quality. 
 
 From the pebbly shore of the lake, gushing out 
 with fountains of sparkling water along its whole 
 extent, rises a rolling bank, upon which now stands 
 most of the village. A short distance and you as- 
 cend a second eminence, and beyond this you reach
 
 108 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the bluffs, some of them an hundred feet in height, 
 gracefully rounded, and corresponding with the me* 
 andering of the stream below. From the summit of 
 these bluffs the prospect is uncommonly fine. At 
 their base is spread out a beautiful prairie, its tall 
 grass-tops and bright-died flowerets nodding to the 
 soft summer wind. Along its eastern border is ex* 
 tended a range of neat edifices, while lower down 
 sleep the calm, clear waters of the lake, unruffled by 
 a ripple, and reflecting from its placid bosom the 
 stupendous vegetation of the wooded alluvion be- 
 yond. 
 
 It was near the close of a day of withering sultri* 
 ness that we reached Peoria. Passing the Kickapoo, 
 or Red Bud Creek, a sweep in the stream opened 
 before the eye a panorama of that magnificent water* 
 sheet of which I have spoken, so calm and motion- 
 less that its mirror surface seemed suspended in the 
 golden mistiness of the summer atmosphere which 
 floated over it. As we were approaching the village 
 a few sweet notes of a bugle struck the ear; and in 
 a few moments a lengthened troop of cavalry, with 
 baggage-cars and military paraphernalia, was beheld 
 winding over a distant roll of the prairie, their arms 
 glittering gayly in the horizontal beams of the sinking 
 sun as the ranks appeared, were lost, reappeared, and 
 then, by an inequality in the route, were concealed 
 from the view. The steamer "Helen Mar" was 
 lying at the landing as we rounded up, most terribly 
 shattered by the collapsing of the flue of one of her 
 boilers a few days before in the vicinity. She had 
 been swept by the death-blast from one extremity
 
 THE FAR WEST* 109 
 
 to the other, and everything was remaining just as 
 when the accident occurred, even to the pallets upon 
 which had been stretched the mangled bodies, and 
 the remedies applied for their relief. The disasters 
 of steam have become, till of late, of such ordinary 
 occurrence upon the waters of the West, that they 
 have been thought of comparatively but little; yet 
 in no aspect does the angel of death perform his 
 bidding more fearfully. Misery's own pencil can 
 delineate no scene of horror more revolting ; hu- 
 manity knows no visitation more terrible ! The 
 atmosphere of hell envelops the victim and sweeps 
 him from the earth 3 
 
 Happening casually to fall in with several gentle- 
 men at the inn who chanced to have some acquaint- 
 ance with the detachment of dragoons I have men- 
 tioned, I accepted with pleasure an invitation to 
 accompany them on a visit to the encampment a 
 few miles from the town. The moon was up, and 
 was flinging her silvery veil over the landscape 
 when we reached the bivouac. It was a pictu- 
 resque spot, a low prairie-bottom on the margin of 
 the lake, beneath a range of wooded bluffs in the 
 rear ; and the little white tents sprinkled about upon 
 the green shrubbery beneath the trees ; the stacks 
 of arms and military accoutrements piled up be- 
 neath or suspended from their branches ; the dra- 
 goons around their tents, engaged in the culinary 
 operations of the 'camp, or listlessly lolling upon the 
 grass as the laugh and jest went free ; the horses 
 grazing among the thickets, while over the whole 
 was resting the misty splendour of the moonlight, 
 
 VOL. I. K > *
 
 110 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 made up a tout ensemble not unworthy the crayon 
 of a Weir. The detachment was a small one, 
 consisting of only one hundred men, under com- 
 mand of Captain S , on an excursion from 
 
 Camp des Moines, at the lower rapids of the Missis- 
 sippi, to Fort Howard, on Green Bay, partially oc- 
 casioned by a rumour of Indian hostilities threaten- 
 ed in that vicinity. They were a portion of several 
 companies of the first regiment of dragoons, levied 
 by Congress a few years since for the protection 
 of the Western frontier, in place of the " Rangers," 
 so styled, in whom that trust had previously reposed. 
 They were all Americans, resolute-looking fellows 
 enough, and originally rendezvoused at Jefferson 
 Barracks. The design of such a corps is doubtless 
 an excellent one ; but military men tell us that some 
 unpardonable omissions were made in the provisions 
 of the bill reported by Congress in which the corps 
 had its origin ; for, according to the present regula- 
 tions, all approximation to discipline is precluded. 
 
 Captain S received us leisurely reclining upon 
 
 a buffalo-robe in his tent ; and, in a brief interview, 
 we found him possessed of all that gentlemanly 
 naivete which foreign travellers would have us be- 
 lieve is, in our country, confined to the profession 
 of arms. The night-dews of the lowlands had for 
 some hours been falling when we reached the vil- 
 lage drenched with their damps. 
 
 Much to our regret, the stage of water in the 
 Illinois would not permit our boat to ascend the 
 stream, as had been the intention, to Hennepin, 
 some twenty miles above, and Ottawa, at the foot 
 of the rapids. Nearly equidistant between these
 
 THE FAR WEST. Ill 
 
 Nourishing towns, upon the eastern bank of the Illi- 
 nois, is situated that remarkable crag, termed by 
 the early French " Le Rocher" by the Indian tradi- 
 tions " Starved Rock? and by the present dwellers 
 in its vicinity, as well as by Schoolcraft and the 
 maps, " Rockfort." It is a tall cliff, composed of 
 alternate strata of lime and sandstone, about two 
 hundred and fifty feet in height by report, and one 
 hundred and thirty-four by actual measurement. 
 Its base is swept by the current, and it is perfectly 
 precipitous upon three sides. The fourth side, by 
 which alone it is accessible, is connected with the 
 neighbouring range of bluffs by a natural causeway, 
 which can be ascended only by a difficult and tortu- 
 ous path. The summit of the crag is clothed with 
 soil to the depth of several feet, sufficient to sustain 
 a growth of stunted cedars. It is about one hundred 
 feet in diameter, and comprises nearly an acre of 
 level land. The name of " Starved Rock" was ob- 
 tained by this inaccessible battlement from a legend 
 of Indian tradition, an outline of which may be found 
 in Flint's work upon the Western Valley, and an 
 interesting story wrought from its incidents in Hall's 
 " Border Tales." A band of the Illini having assas- 
 sinated Pontiac, the Ottoway chieftain, in 1767, the 
 tribe of the Pottawattamies made war upon them. 
 The Illini, being defeated, fled for refuge to this rock, 
 which a little labour soon rendered inaccessible to 
 all the assaults of their enemy. At this crisis, after 
 repeated repulse, the besiegers determined to reduce 
 the hold by starvation, as the only method remain- 
 ing. The tradition of this siege affords, perhaps,
 
 112 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 as striking an illustration of Indian character as is 
 furnished by our annals of the unfortunate race. 
 Food in some considerable quantity had been pro- 
 vided by the besieged ; but when, parched by thirst, 
 they attempted during the night to procure water 
 from the cool stream rushing below them by means 
 of ropes of bark, the enemy detected the design, and 
 their vessels were cut off by a guard in canoes. The 
 last resource was defeated ; every stratagem dis- 
 covered; hope was extinguished; the unutterable 
 tortures of thirst were upon them ; a terrific death in 
 anticipation ; yet they yielded not ; the speedier tor- 
 ments of the stake and a triumph to their foes was 
 the alternative. And so they perished all, with a 
 solitary exception a woman, who was adopted by 
 the hostile tribe, and was living not half a century 
 since. Far years the summit of this old cliff was 
 whitened by the bones of the victims ; and quantities 
 of remains, as well as arrow-heads and domestic 
 utensils, are at the present day exhumed. Shells 
 are also found, but their whence and wherefore are 
 not easily determined. At the only accessible point 
 there is said to be an appearance of an intrenchment 
 and rampart. A glorious view of the Illinois, which, 
 forming a curve, laves more than half of the col- 
 umn's base, is obtained from the summit. An an- 
 cient post of the French is believed to have once 
 stood here. 
 
 Brightly were the moonbeams streaming over the 
 blue lake Pinatahwee as our steamer glided from its 
 waters. Near midnight, as we swept past Pekin, 
 we were roused from our slumbers by the plaintive
 
 THE FAR WEST. 113 
 
 notes of the " German Hymn," which mellowly 
 came stealing from distance over the waters ; and 
 we almost pardoned the " Menagerie" its multifold 
 transgressions because of that touching air. There 
 is a chord in almost every bosom, however rough 
 and unharmonious its ordinary emotions, which fails 
 not to vibrate beneath the gentle influences of "sweet 
 sounds." From this, as from the strings of the wind- 
 harp, a zephyr may elicit a melody of feeling which 
 the storm could never have awakened. There are 
 seasons, too, when the nerves and fibres of the sys- 
 tem, reposing in quietness, are most exquisitely at- 
 tempered to the mysterious influences and the deli- 
 cate breathings of harmony ; and such a season is 
 that calm, holy hour, when deep sleep hath descend- 
 ed upon man, and his unquiet pulsings have for an 
 interval ceased their fevered beat. To be awa- 
 kened then by music's cadence has upon us an 
 effect unearthly ! It calls forth from their depths 
 the richest emotions of the heart. The moonlight 
 serenade ! Ah, its wild witchery has told upon 
 the romance of many a young bosom ! If you have 
 a mistress, and you would woo her not vainly, woo 
 her thus ! I remember me, when once a resident 
 of the courtly city of L , to have been awa- 
 kened one morning long before the dawn by a 
 strain of distant music, which, swelling and rising 
 upon the still night-air, came floating like a spirit 
 through the open windows and long galleries of the 
 building. I arose ; all was calm, and silent, and 
 deserted through the dim, lengthened streets of the 
 city. Not a light gleamed from a casement ; not a
 
 1' 14 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 footfall echoed from the pavement; not a brealfo 
 broke the stillness save the crowing of the far-off 
 cock proclaiming the morn, and the low rumble of 
 the marketman's wagon; and then, swelling upon 
 the night-wind, fitfully came up that beautiful gush 
 of melody, wave upon wave, surge after surge, bil- 
 low upon billow, winding itself into the innermost 
 cells of the soul I 
 
 ** Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet South, 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets. 
 Stealing and giving d*ur." 
 
 Elinois River, 
 
 XI. 
 
 " You will excuse me if I do not strictly confine myself to nar- 
 ration, but now and then interpose such reflections as may offer 
 while I am writing." NEWTON. 
 
 " Each was a giant heap of mouldering clay ; 
 
 There slept the warriors, women, friends, and foes ; 
 There, side by side, the rival chieftains lay, 
 And mighty tribes swept from the face of day." 
 
 FLINT. 
 
 MORE than three weeks ago I found myself, one 
 bright morning at sunrise, before the city of St. 
 Louis on descending the Illinois ; and in that vener- 
 able little city have I ever since been a dweller. A 
 series of those vexatious delays, ever occurring to 
 balk the designs of the tourist, have detained me 
 longer than could have been anticipated. Not the
 
 THE FAR WEST. 115 
 
 most inconsiderable of these preventives to locomo- 
 tion in this bustling, swapping, chaffering little city, 
 strange as it may seem, has been the difficulty of pro- 
 curing, at a conscionable outlay of dollars and cents, 
 a suitable steed for a protracted jaunt. But, thanks 
 to the civility or selfism of a friend, this difficulty is 
 at an end, and I have at length succeeded in securing 
 the reversion of a tough, spirited little bay, which, 
 by considerate usage and bountiful foddering, may 
 serve to bear me, with the requisite quantum of speed 
 and safety, over the prairies. A few days, there- 
 fore, when the last touch of acclimation shall have 
 taken its leave, and " I'm over the border and awa'." 
 The city of San' Louis, now hoary with a cen- 
 tury's years, was one of those early settlements 
 planted by the Canadian French up and down the 
 great valley, from the Northern Lakes to the Gulf, 
 while the English colonists of Plymouth and James- 
 town were wringing out a wretched subsistence along 
 the steril shores of the Atlantic, wearied out by 
 constant warfare with the thirty Indian tribes within 
 their borders. Attracted by the beauty of the coun- 
 try, the fertility of its soil, the boundless variety of 
 its products, the exhaustless mineral treasures be- 
 neath its surface, and the facility of the trade in the 
 furs of the Northwest, a flood of Canadian emigra- 
 tion opened southward after the discoveries of La 
 Salle, and the little villages of Cahokia, Kaskaskia, 
 Prairie du Po, Prairie du Rocher, St. Phillipe, St. 
 Ferdinand, Peoria, Fort Chartres, Vuide Poche, 
 Petites Cotes, now St. Charles, Pain Court, now 
 St. Louis, and others, successively sprang up in
 
 116 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the howling waste. Over nearly all this terri- 
 tory have the Gaul, the Spaniard, the Briton, and 
 the Anglo-American held rule, and a dash of the 
 national idiosyncrasy of each may be detected. 
 Especially true is this of St. Louis. There is an 
 antiquated, venerable air about its narrow streets and 
 the ungainly edifices of one portion of it ; the steep- 
 roofed stone cottage of the Frenchman, and the tall 
 stuccoed-dwelling of the Don, not often beheld. A 
 mellowing touch of time, which few American cities 
 can boast, has passed over it, rendering it a spot of 
 peculiar interest to one with the slightest spirit of 
 the antiquary, in a country where all else is new. 
 The modern section of the city, with its regular 
 streets and lofty edifices, which, within the past 
 fifteen years, has arisen under the active hand of the 
 northern emigrant, presents a striking contrast to 
 the old. 
 
 The site of St. Louis is elevated and salubrious, 
 lying for some miles along the Mississippi upon 
 two broad plateaux or steppes swelling up gently 
 from the water's edge. Along the first of these, 
 based upon an exhaustless bed of limestone, which 
 furnishes material for building, are situated the low- 
 er and central portions of the city, while that above 
 sweeps away in an extensive prairie of stunted 
 black-jack oaks to the west. The latter section is 
 already laid out into streets and building-lots ; ele- 
 gant structures are rapidly going up, and, at no dis- 
 tant day, this is destined to become the most courtly 
 and beautiful portion of the city. It is at a pleasant 
 remove from the dust and bustle of the landing,
 
 THE FAR WEST.' 117 
 
 while its elevation affords a fine view of the harbour 
 and opposite shore. Yet, with all its improvements 
 of the past few years, St. Louis remains emphati- 
 cally " a little French city." There is about it a 
 cheerful village air, a certain rus in urbe, to which 
 the grenadier preciseness of most of our cities is the 
 antipodes. There are but few of those endless, 
 rectilinear avenues, cutting each other into broad 
 squares of lofty granite blocks, so characteristic of 
 the older cities of the North and East, or of those 
 cities of tramontane origin so rapidly rising within 
 the boundaries of the valley. There yet remains 
 much in St. Louis to remind one of its village days ; 
 and a stern eschewal of mathematical, angular ex- 
 actitude is everywhere beheld. Until within a few 
 years there was no such thing as a row of houses ; 
 all were disjoined and at a considerable distance 
 from each other ; and every edifice, however central, 
 could boast its humble stoop, its front-door plat, be- 
 decked with shrubbery and flowers, and protected 
 from the inroads of intruding man or beast by its own 
 tall stoccade. All this is now confined to the south- 
 ern or French section of the city ; a right Rip Van 
 Winkle-looking region, where each little steep- 
 roofed cottage yet presents its broad piazza, and the 
 cosey settee before the door beneath the tree shade, 
 with the fleshy old burghers soberly luxuriating on 
 an evening pipe, their dark-eyed, brunette daughters 
 at their side. There is a delightful air of " old- 
 fashioned comfortableness" in all this, that reminds 
 us of nothing we have seen in our own country, but 
 much of the antiquated villages of which we have
 
 118 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 been told in the land beyond the waters. Among 
 those remnants of a former generation which are yet 
 to be seen in St. Louis are the venerable mansions 
 of Auguste and Pierre Chouteau, who were among 
 the founders of the city. These extensive mansions 
 stand upon the principal street, and originally occu- 
 pied, with their grounds, each of them an entire 
 square, enclosed by lofty walls of heavy masonry, 
 with loopholes and watch-towers for defence. The 
 march of improvement has encroached upon the 
 premises of these ancient edifices somewhat; yet 
 they are still inhabited by the posterity of their 
 builders, and remain, with their massive walls of 
 stone, monuments of an earlier era. 
 
 The site upon which stands St. Louis was se- 
 lected in 1763 by M. Laclede, a partner of a mer- 
 cantile association at New-Orleans, to whom D'Ab- 
 badie, Director-general of the province of Louisiana, 
 had granted the exclusive privilege of the commerce 
 in furs and peltries with the Indian tribes of the Up- 
 per Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. By the treaty 
 of that year France had ceded all her possessions 
 east of the Mississippi to Great Britain, and there 
 was on the western shore only the small village of 
 Ste. Genevieve. This was subsequently deemed 
 too distant from the mouth of the Mississippi to be 
 a suitable depot and post for the fur-trade ; and La- 
 clede, having surveyed all the neighbouring region, 
 fixed upon the spot where St. Louis now stands as 
 a more eligible site. Whether this site was selected 
 by the flight of birds, by consultation of the entrails 
 of beasts, or the voice of an oracle ; whether by ac-
 
 THE FAR WEST. . 119 
 
 cident or design, tradition averreth not. Yet sure is 
 it, that under the concurrence of all these omens, a 
 more favourable selection could not have been made 
 than this has proved. It is related, however, that 
 when the founder of the city first planted foot upon 
 the shore, the imprint of a human foot, naked and 
 of gigantic dimensions, was found enstamped upon 
 the solid limestone rock, and continued in regular 
 succession as if of a man advancing from the water's 
 edge to the plateau above.* By a more superstitious 
 age this circumstance would have been deemed an 
 omen, and, as such, commemorated in the chronicles 
 of the city. On the 15th of February, 1764, Col- 
 onel Auguste Chouteau, with a number of persons 
 from Ste. Genevieve, Cahokia, and Fort Chartres, 
 arrived at the spot, and commenced a settlement by 
 felling a splendid grove of forest-trees which then 
 reared itself upon the bank, and erecting a building 
 where the market-house now stands. The town was 
 then laid off, and named in honour of Louis XV., 
 the reigning monarch of France, though the set- 
 tlers were desirous of giving it the name of its found- 
 er : to this Laclede would not consent. He died 
 at the post of Arkansas in 1778; Colonel Chou- 
 teau followed him in the month of February of 1829, 
 just sixty-four years from the founding of the city. 
 He had been a constant resident, had seen the spot 
 merge from the wilderness, and had become one of 
 its most opulent citizens. 
 
 For many years St. Louis was called "Pain 
 
 * The imprint of a human foot is yet to be seen in the limestone 
 of the shore not far from the landing at St. Louis.
 
 120 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Court" from the scarcity of provisions, which cir- 
 cumstance at one period almost induced the set- 
 tlers to abandon their design. In 1765 Fort Char- 
 tres was delivered to Great Britain, and the com- 
 mandant, St. Ange, with his troops, only twenty- 
 two in number, proceeded to St. Louis ; and assu- 
 ming the government, the place was ever after con- 
 sidered the capital of the province. Under the ad- 
 ministration of St. Ange, which is said to have 
 been mild and patriarchal, the common field was laid 
 open, and each settler became a cultivator of the 
 soil. This field comprised several thousand acres, 
 lying upon the second steppe mentioned, and has 
 recently been divided into lots and sold to the high- 
 est bidder. Three years after the arrival of St. 
 Ange, Spanish troops under command of Don Rious 
 took possession of the province agreeable to treaty ; 
 but, owing to the dissatisfaction of the inhabitants, 
 no official authority was exercised until 1770. 
 Thirty years afterward the province was retroceded 
 to France, and from that nation to the United States. 
 In the spring of 1778 an attack was made upon the 
 village by a large body of the northern Indians, at 
 the instigation of the English. They were repulsed 
 with a loss of about twenty of the settlers, and the 
 year was commemorated as " ISannee du grand 
 coup" In the spring of 1785, the Mississippi rose 
 thirty feet above the highest water-mark previously 
 known, and the American Bottom was inundated. 
 This year was remembered as " L'annee des grand 
 
 eaux" 
 
 At that period commerce with New-Orleans, for
 
 THE FAR WEST. 121 
 
 ihe purpose of obtaining merchandise for the fur 
 trade, was carried on exclusively by keel-boats and 
 barges, which in the spring started upon their voy- 
 age of more than a thousand miles, and in the fall 
 of the year slowly returned against the current. 
 This mode of transportation was expensive, tedious, 
 and unsafe ; and it was rendered yet more hazard- 
 ous from the murders and robberies of a large band 
 of freebooters, under two chiefs, Culburt and Magil- 
 bray, who stationed themselves at a place called Cot- 
 ton Wood Creek, on the Mississippi, and captured 
 the ascending boats. This band was dispersed by 
 a little fleet of ten barges, which, armed with swiv- 
 els, ascended the river in company. This year was 
 remembered as " Vannee des bateaux" All the in- 
 convenience of this method of transportation con- 
 tinued to be experienced until the introduction of 
 steam upon the Western waters ; and the first boat of 
 this kind which made its appearance at the port of St. 
 Louis was the " General Pike," in 1817. This boat 
 was commanded by Captain Jacob Reed, and, at the 
 time of its arrival, a large body of a neighbouring 
 Indian tribe chanced to have an encampment in the 
 suburbs of the city. Their astonishment, and even 
 terror, at first sight of the evolutions of the steamer, 
 are said to have been indescribable. They viewed 
 it as nothing less than a living thing; a monster 
 of tremendous power, commissioned by the " Great 
 Spirit" for their extermination, and their humiliation 
 was proportional to their terror. Great opposition 
 was raised against steamers by the boatmen, some 
 thousands of whom, by their introduction, would 
 VOL. I. L A '
 
 122 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 be thrown out of employment ; but this feeling grad- 
 ually passed away, and now vessels propelled by 
 steam perform in a few days a voyage which for- 
 merly required as many months. A trip to the city, 
 as New-Orleans, par excellence, was styled, then 
 demanded weeks of prior preparation, and a man 
 put his house and household in order before setting 
 out : now it is an ordinary jaunt of pleasure. The 
 same dislike manifested by the old French habitans 
 to the introduction of the steamer or smoke-boat, 
 " bateau a vapeur," as they termed it, has betrayed 
 itself at every advance of modern improvement. 
 Erected, as St. Louis was, with no design of a city, 
 its houses were originally huddled together with a 
 view to nothing but convenience ; and its streets 
 were laid out too narrow and too irregular for the 
 bustle and throng of mercantile operations. In en- 
 deavouring to correct this early error, by removing 
 a few of the old houses and projecting balconies, 
 great opposition has been encountered. Some de- 
 gree of uniformity in the -three principal streets par- 
 allel to the river has, however, by this method been 
 attained. Water-street is well built up with a se- 
 ries of lofty limestone warehouses ; but an irretriev- 
 able error has been committed in arranging them 
 at so short a distance from the water. On some 
 accounts this proximity to the river may be conve- 
 nient ; but for the sake of a broad arena for com- 
 merce ; for the sake of a fresh and salubrious circu- 
 lation of air from the water ; for the sake of scenic 
 beauty, or a noble promenade for pleasure, there 
 should have been no encroachment upon the pre-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 123 
 
 cincts of the " eternal river." In view of the mis- 
 erable plan of St. Louis, if it may claim anything 
 of the kind, and the irregular manner and singular 
 taste with which it has been built, the regret has 
 more than once been expressed, that, like Detroit,* 
 a conflagration had not swept it in its earlier days, 
 and given place to an arrangement at once more 
 consistent with elegance and convenience. 
 
 From the river bank to the elevated ground 
 sweeping off in the rear of the city to the west is a 
 distance of several hundred yards, and the height 
 above the level of the water cannot be far from an 
 hundred feet. The ascent is easy, however, and a 
 noble view is obtained, from the cupola of the court- 
 house on its summit, of the Mississippi and the city 
 below, of the broad American Bottom, with its bluffs 
 in the distance, and a beautiful extent of natural 
 scenery in the rear. Along the brow of this emi- 
 nence once stood a line of military works, erected 
 for the defence of the old town in 1780 by Don 
 Francois de Cruzat, lieutenant governor " de la 
 partie occidentale des Illinois" as the ancient chron- 
 icles style the region west of the Mississippi. These 
 fortifications consisted of several circular towers of 
 stone, forty feet in diameter and half as many in al- 
 titude, planted at intervals in a line of stoccade, be- 
 sides a small fort, embracing four demilunes and a 
 parapet of mason-work. For many years these old 
 works were in a dismantled and deserted state, ex- 
 cepting the fort, in one building of which was held 
 
 * In 1805.
 
 124 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the court, and another superseded the necessity of a 
 prison. Almost every vestige is now swept away. 
 The great earthquakes of 1811 essentially assisted 
 in toppling the old ruins to the ground. The whole 
 city was powerfully shaken, and has since been 
 subject to occasional shocks.* 
 
 It is in the northern suburbs of the city that are 
 to be seen those singular ancient mounds for which 
 St. Louis is so celebrated ; and which, with others 
 in the vicinity, form, as it were, a connecting link 
 between those of the north, commencing in the lake 
 counties of Western New-York, and those of the 
 south, extending deep within the boundaries of Mex- 
 ico, forming an unbroken line from one extremity 
 of the great valley to the other. Their position at 
 St. Louis is, as usual, a commanding one, upon the 
 second bank, of which I have spoken, and looking 
 proudly down upon the Mississippi, along which the 
 line is parallel. They stand isolated, or distinct 
 from each other, in groups ; and the outline is gen- 
 erally that of a rectangular pyramid, truncated near- 
 ly one half. The first collection originally consisted 
 of ten tumuli, arranged as three sides of a square area 
 of about four acres, and the open flank to the west 
 was guarded by five other small circular earth-heaps, 
 isolated, and forming the segment of a circle around 
 
 * One, which occurred during the summer of the present year, 
 was extensively felt. In the vicinity of this fortification, to the 
 south, was an extensive burial-ground ; and many of its slumbering 
 tenants, in the grading of streets and excavating of cellars^ have- 
 been thrown up to the light after a century's sleep.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 125 
 
 the opening. This group is now almost completely 
 destroyed by the grading of streets and the erection 
 of edifices, and the eastern border may alone be 
 traced. North of the first collection of tumuli is a 
 second, four or five in number, and forming two 
 sides of a square. Among these is one of a very 
 beautiful form, consisting of three stages, and called 
 the " Falling Garden." Its elevation above the level 
 of the second plateau is about four feet, and the 
 area is ample for a dwelling and yard ; from the 
 second it descends to the first plateau along the 
 river by three regular gradations, the first with a 
 descent of two feet, the second of ten, and the lower 
 one of five, each stage presenting a beautiful site for 
 a house. For this purpose, however, they can never 
 be appropriated, as one of the principal streets of 
 the city is destined to pass directly through the 
 spot, the grading for which is already commenced. 
 The third group of mounds is situated a few hundred 
 yards above the second, and consists of about a 
 dozen eminences. A series extends along the west 
 side of the street, through grounds attached to a 
 classic edifice of brick, which occupies the principal 
 one ; while opposite rise several of a larger size, 
 upon one of which is situated the residence of Gen- 
 eral Ashley, and upon another the reservoir which 
 supplies the city with water, raised from the Mis- 
 sissippi by a steam force-pump upon its banks. 
 Both are beautiful spots, imbowered in forest-trees ; 
 and the former, from its size and structure, is sup- 
 posed to have been a citadel or place of defence. 
 L2
 
 126 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 In excavating the earth of this mound, large quan- 
 tities of human remains, pottery, half-burned wood, 
 &c., &c., were thrown up; furnishing conclusive 
 evidence, were any requisite farther than regularity 
 of outline and relative position, of the artificial ori- 
 gin of these earth-heaps. About six hundred yards 
 above this group, and linked with it by several in- 
 considerable mounds, is situated one completely is- 
 olated, and larger than any yet described. It is up- 
 ward of thirty feet in height, about one hundred 
 and fifty feet long, and upon the summit five feet 
 wide. The form is oblong, resembling an immense 
 grave ; and a broad terrace or apron, after a descent 
 of a few feet, spreads out itself on the side looking 
 down upon the river. From the extensive view of 
 the surrounding region and of the Mississippi com- 
 manded by the site of this mound, as well as its al- 
 titude, it is supposed to have been intended as a 
 vidette or watch-tower by its builders. Upon its 
 summit, not many years ago, was buried an Indian 
 chief. He was a member of a deputation from a 
 distant tribe to the agency in St. Louis ; but, dying 
 while there, his remains, agreeable to the custom of 
 his tribe, were deposited on the most commanding 
 spot that could be found. This custom accounts 
 for the circumstance urged against the antiquity and 
 artificial origin of these works, that the relics ex- 
 humed are found near the surface, and were depos- 
 ited by the present race. But the distinction be- 
 tween the remains found near the surface and those 
 in the depths of the soil is too palpable and too
 
 THE FAR WEST. 127 
 
 notorious to require argument. From the Big 
 Mound, as it is called, a cordon of tumuli stretch 
 away to the northwest for several miles along the 
 blurts parallel with the river, a noble view of which 
 they command. They are most of them ten or 
 twelve feet high ; many clothed with forest-trees, 
 and all of them supposed to be tombs. In remo- 
 ving two of them upon the grounds of Col. O'Fallon, 
 immense quantities of bones were exhumed. Sim- 
 ilar mounds are to be found in almost every county 
 in the state, and those in the vicinity of St. Louis 
 are remarkable only for their magnitude and the 
 regularity of their relative positions. It is evident, 
 from these monuments of a former generation, that 
 the natural advantages of the site upon which St. 
 Louis now stands were not unappreciated long be- 
 fore it was pressed by the first European footstep. 
 
 It is a circumstance which has often elicited re- 
 mark from those who, as tourists, have visited St. 
 Louis, that so little interest should be manifested 
 by its citizens for those mysterious and venerable 
 monuments of another race by which on every side 
 it is environed. When we consider the complete 
 absence of everything in the character of a public 
 square or promenade in the city, one would suppose 
 that individual taste and municipal authority would 
 not have failed to avail themselves of the moral in- 
 terest attached to these mounds and the beauty of 
 their site, to have formed in their vicinity one of the 
 most attractive spots in the West. These ancient 
 tumuli could, at no considerable expense, have been
 
 128 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 enclosed and ornamented with shrubbery, and Walks, 
 and flowers, and thus preserved for coming genera- 
 tions. As it is, they are passing rapidly away; 
 man and beast, as well as the elements, are busy 
 with them, and in a few years they will quite have 
 disappeared. The practical utility of which they 
 are available appears the only circumstance which 
 has attracted attention to them. One has already 
 become a public reservoir, and measures are in 
 progress for applying the larger mound to a similar 
 use, the first being insufficient for the growth of the 
 city. It need not be said that such indifference of 
 feeling to the only relics of a by-gone race which 
 our land can boast, is not well in the citizens of St. 
 Louis, and should exist no longer ; nor need allusion 
 be made to that eagerness of interest which the dis- 
 tant traveller, the man of literary taste arid poetic 
 fancy, or the devotee of abstruse science, never fails 
 to betray for these mysterious monuments of the 
 past, when, in his tour of the Far West, he visits St. 
 Louis ; many a one, too, who has looked upon the 
 century-mossed ruins of Europe, and to whose eye 
 the castled crags of the Rhine are not unfamiliar. 
 And surely, to the imaginative mind, there is an in- 
 terest which attaches to these venerable beacons of 
 departed time, enveloped as they are in mystery in- 
 scrutable ; and from their origin, pointing, as they 
 do, down the dim shadowy vista of ages of which 
 the ken of man telleth not, there is an interest which 
 hallows them even as the hoary piles of old Egypt 
 are hallowed, and which feudal Europe, with all her 
 
 f 
 
 (
 
 THE FAR WEST. 129 
 
 time-stained battlements, can never boast. It is the 
 mystery, the impenetrable mystery veiling these 
 aged sepulchres, which gives them an interest for 
 the traveller's eye. They are landmarks in the lapse 
 of ages, beneath whose shadows generations have 
 mouldered, and around whose summits a gone eter- 
 nity plays ! The ruined tower, the moss-grown 
 abbey, the damp-stained dungeon, the sunken arch, 
 the fairy and delicate fragments of the shattered 
 peristyle of a classic land, or the beautiful frescoes 
 of Herculaneum and Pompeii around them time 
 has indeed flung the silvery mantle of eld while he 
 has swept them with decay ; but their years may be 
 enumerated, and the circumstances, the authors, and 
 the purposes of their origin, together with the inci- 
 dents of their ruin, are chronicled on History's page 
 for coming generations. But who shall tell the era 
 of the origin of these venerable earth-heaps, the 
 race of their builders, the purpose of their erection, 
 the thousand circumstances attending their rise, his- 
 tory, desertion ? Why now so lone and desolate ? 
 Where are the multitudes that once swarmed the 
 prairie at their base, and vainly busied themselves 
 in rearing piles which should exist the wonder of 
 the men of other lands, and the sole monument of 
 their own memory long after they themselves were 
 dust? Has war, or famine, or pestilence brooded 
 over these beautiful plains ? or has the fiat of Om- 
 nipotence gone forth, that as a race their inhabitants 
 should exist no longer, and the death-angel been 
 commissioned to sweep them from off the face of
 
 130 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the earth as if with destruction's besom ? We ask : 
 the inquiry is vain ; we are answered not ! Their 
 mighty creations and the tombs of myriads heave up 
 themselves in solemn grandeur before us ; but from 
 the depths of the dusky earth-heap comes forth no 
 voice to tell us its origin, or object, or story ! 
 
 " Ye mouldering relics of a race departed, 
 
 Your names have perished ; not a trace remains, 
 Save where the grassgrown mound its summit rears 
 From the green bosom of your native plains." 
 
 Ages since long ere the first son of the Old 
 World had pressed the fresh soil of the New ; long 
 before the bright region beyond the blue wave had 
 been the object of the philosopher's revery by day 
 and the enthusiast's vision by night in the deep 
 stillness and solitude of an unpeopled land, these 
 vast mausoleums rose as now they rise, in lonely 
 grandeur from the plain, and looked down, even as 
 now they look, upon the giant flood rolling its dark 
 waters at their base, hurrying past them to the deep. 
 So has it been with the massive tombs of Egypt, 
 amid the sands and barrenness of the desert. For 
 ages untold have the gloomy pyramids been reflected 
 by the inundations of the Nile ; an hundred genera- 
 tions, they tell us, have arisen from the cradle and 
 reposed beneath their shadows, and, like autumn 
 leaves, have dropped into the grave ; but from the 
 deep midnight of by-gone centuries comes forth no 
 daring spirit to claim these kingly sepulchres as hrs 
 own! And shall the dusky piles on the plains of 
 distant Egypt affect so deeply our reverence for the
 
 THE FAR WEST. 131 
 
 departed, and these mighty monuments, reposing in 
 dark sublimity upon our own magnificent prairies, 
 veiled in mystery more inscrutable than they, call 
 forth no solitary throb? Is there no hallowing 
 interest associated with these aged relics, these 
 tombs, and temples, and towers of another race, to 
 elicit emotion ? Are they indeed to us no more 
 than the dull clods we tread upon? Why, then, 
 does the wanderer from the far land gaze upon them 
 with wonder and veneration ? Why linger fondly 
 around them, and meditate upon the power which 
 reared them and is departed ? Why does the poet, 
 the man of genius and fancy, or the philosopher of 
 mind and nature, seat himself at their base, and, with 
 strange and undefined emotions, pause and ponder 
 amid the loneliness which slumbers around ? And 
 surely, if the far traveller, as he wanders through 
 this Western Valley, may linger around these aged 
 piles and meditate upon a power departed, a race 
 obliterated, an influence swept from the earth for 
 ever, and dwell with melancholy emotions upon 
 the destiny of man, is it not meet that those into 
 whose keeping they seem by Providence consigned 
 should regard them with interest and emotion ? that 
 they should gather up and preserve every incident 
 relevant to their origin, design, or history which may 
 be attained, and avail themselves of every measure 
 which may give to them perpetuity, and hand them 
 down, undisturbed in form or character, to other 
 generations ? 
 
 The most plausible, and, indeed, the only plausi- 
 ble argument urged by those who deny the artificial 
 
 \
 
 132 THE PAR WEST* 
 
 origin of the ancient mounds, is their immense size* 
 There are, say they, " many mounds in the West 
 that exactly correspond in shape with these sup- 
 posed antiquities, and yet, from their size, most evi- 
 dently were not made by man ;" and they add 
 that " it would be well to calculate upon the ordi- 
 nary labour of excavating canals, how many hands, 
 with spades, wheelbarrows, and other necessary im- 
 plements, it would take to throw up mounds like the 
 largest of these within any given time."* We are 
 told that in the territory of Wisconsin and in north- 
 ern Illinois exist mounds to which these are mole- 
 hills. Of those, Mount Joliet, Mount Charles, 
 Sinsinewa, and the Blue Mounds vary from one to 
 four hundred feet in height ; while west of the Ar- 
 kansas exists a range of earth-heaps ten or twelve 
 miles in extent, and two hundred feet high : there 
 also, it might be added, are the Mamelle Mount- 
 ains, estimated at one thousand feet. The adjacent 
 country is prairie ; farms exist on the summits of the 
 mounds, which from their declivity are almost in- 
 accessible, and springs gush out from their sides. 
 With but one exception, I profess to know nothing 
 of these mounds from personal observation ; and, 
 consequently, can hazard no opinion of their char- 
 acter. The fact of the " gushing springs," it is true, 
 
 * This quotation is from the pen of an exceedingly accurate 
 writer upon the West, and a worthy man ; so far its sentiment is 
 deserving of regard. I have canvassed the topic personally with 
 this gentleman, and upon other subjects have frequently availed 
 myself of a superior information, which more than twenty years of 
 residence in the Far West has enahled him to obtain. I refer to 
 the Rev. J. M. Peck, author of " Guide for Emigrants," &c. 
 
 t.
 
 THE PAR WEST. 133 
 
 savours not much of artificialness ; and in this re- 
 spect, at least, do these mounds differ from those 
 claimed as of artificial origin. The earth-heaps of 
 which I have been speaking can boast no " springs 
 of water gushing from their sides ;" if they could, 
 the fact would be far from corroborating the theory 
 maintained. The analogy between these mounds is 
 admitted to be strong, though there exist diversities ; 
 and were there none, even Bishop Butler says that 
 we are not to infer a thing true upon slight presump- 
 tion, since " there may be probabilities on both sides 
 of a question." From what has been advanced rel- 
 ative to the character of the mounds spoken of, it is 
 believed that the probabilities strongly preponderate 
 in favour of their artificial origin, even admitting 
 their perfect analogy to those " from whose sides 
 gush the springs." But more anon. 
 St. Louis. 
 
 VOL. I.M x
 
 134 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 XII. 
 
 " There, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, 
 The pealing anthem swells the note of praise." 
 
 GKAY, 
 
 " Some men have been 
 
 Who loved the church so well, and gave so largely to't, 
 They thought it should have canopied their bones 
 Till doomsday." 
 
 THERE are few more delightful views in the vi- 
 cinity of St. Louis of a fine evening than that com- 
 manded by the summit of the "Big Mound," of 
 which I have spoken, in the northern suburbs of the 
 city. Far away from the north comes the Mississip- 
 pi, sweeping on in a broad, smooth sheet, skirted 
 by woodlands ; and the rushing of its waters along 
 the ragged rocks of the shores below is fancied 
 faintly to reach the ear. Nearly in the middle of 
 the stream are stretched out the long, low, sandy 
 shores of " Blood Island," a spot notorious in the 
 annals of duelling. Upon the Illinois shore beyond 
 it is contemplated erecting a pier, for the purpose 
 of throwing the full volume of the current upon the 
 western shore, and thus preserving a channel of 
 deep water along the landing of the city. Within 
 a few years past an extensive sand-bar has accumu- 
 lated opposite the southern section of the city, which 
 threatens, unless removed, greatly to obstruct, if not 
 to destroy, the harbour. To remedy this, an appro-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 135 
 
 priation has been made by Congress, surveys have 
 been taken, measures devised and their execution 
 commenced. Upon the river-bank opposite the isl- 
 and stands the " Floating Dry Dock," an ingenious 
 contrivance, the invention of a gentleman of St. 
 Louis, and owned by a company of patentees. It 
 consists of an indefinite number of floats, which may 
 be increased or diminished at pleasure, each of 
 them fourteen feet in breadth, and about four times 
 that length, connected laterally together. After be- 
 ing sunk and suspended at the necessary depth in the 
 water, the boat to be repaired is placed upon them, 
 and they rise till her hull is completely expose.d 
 
 As the spectator, standing upon the Mound, turns 
 his eye to the south, a green grove lies before him. 
 and the smaller earth-heaps, over which are beheld 
 the towers and roofs of the city rising in the dis- 
 tance ; far beyond is spread out a smooth, rolling 
 carpet of tree-tops, in the midst of which the gray 
 limestone of the arsenal is dimly perceived. The 
 extent between the northern suburbs of St. Louis 
 and its southern extremity along the river curve is 
 about six miles, and the city can be profitably extend- 
 ed about the same distance into the interior. The 
 prospect in this direction is boundless for miles 
 around, till the tree-tops blend with the western 
 horizon. The face of the country is neither uni- 
 form nor broken, but undulates almost impercepti- 
 bly away, clothed in a dense forest of black-jack 
 oak, interspersed with thickets of the wild-plum, the 
 crab-apple, and the hazel. Thirty years ago, and 
 this broad plain was a treeless, shrubless waste,
 
 136 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 without a solitary farmhouse to break the monotony, 
 But the annual fires were stopped ; a young forest 
 sprang into existence ; and delightful villas and coun- 
 try seats are now gleaming from the dark foliage in 
 all directions. To some of them are attached ex- 
 tensive grounds, adorned with groves, orchards, fish- 
 ponds, and all the elegances of opulence and cul- 
 tivated taste ; while in the distance are beheld the 
 glittering spires of the city rising above the trees. 
 At one of these, a retired, beautiful spot, residence 
 
 of Dr. F , I have passed many a pleasant hour. 
 
 The sportsman may here be indulged to his heart's 
 desire. The woods abound with game of every 
 species : the rabbit, quail, prairie-hen, wild-turkey, 
 and the deer ; while the lakes, which flash from 
 every dell and dingle, are swarmed with fish. Most 
 of these sheets of water are formed by immense 
 springs issuing from sink-holes ; and are supposed, 
 like those in Florida, which suggested the wild idea 
 of the fountain of rejuvenescence, to owe their ori- 
 gin to the subsidence of the bed of porous limestone 
 upon which the Western Valley is based. Many 
 of these springs intersect the region with rills and 
 rivulets, and assist in forming a beautiful sheet of 
 water in the southern suburbs of the city, which 
 eventually pours out its waters into the Mississippi, 
 Many years 4go a dam and massive mill of stone 
 was erected here by one of the founders of the city ; 
 it is yet standing, surrounded by aged sycamores, 
 and is more valuable and venerable than ever. The 
 neighbouring region is abrupt and broken, varied by 
 a delightful vicissitude of hill and dale. The bor-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 137 
 
 ders of the lake are fringed with groves, while the 
 steep bluffs, which rise along the water and are re- 
 flected in its placid bosom, recall the picture of Ben 
 Venue and Loch Katrine : 
 
 " The mountain shadows on her breast 
 Were neither broken nor at rest ; 
 In bright uncertainty they lie, 
 Like future joys to Fancy's eye." 
 
 This beautiful lake and its vicinity is, indeed, un- 
 surpassed for scenic loveliness by any spot in the 
 suburbs of St. Louis. At the calm, holy hour of 
 Sabbath sunset, its quiet borders invite to meditation 
 and retirement. The spot should be consecrated as 
 the trysting-place of love and friendship. Some 
 fine structures are rising upon the margin of the 
 waters, and in a few years it will be rivalled in 
 beauty by no other section of the city. 
 
 St. Louis, like most Western cities, can boast 
 but few public edifices of any note. Among those 
 which are to be seen, however, are the large and 
 commodious places of worship of the different re- 
 ligious denominations; an elegant courthouse, oc- 
 cupying with its enclosed grounds one of the finest 
 squares in the city; two market-houses, one of which, 
 standing upon the river-bank, contains on its second 
 floor the City Hall ; a large and splendid theatre, in 
 most particulars inferior to no other edifice of the 
 kind in the United States ; and an extensive hotel, 
 which is now going up, to be called the " St. Louis 
 House," contracted for one hundred and twenty 
 thousand dollars. The Cathedral of St. Luke, the 
 University, Hospital, Orphan Asylum, and the 
 M 2
 
 138 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 " Convent of the Sacred Heart," are Catholic Insti- 
 tutions, and well worthy of remark. For many 
 years after its settlement, the Roman Catholic faith 
 prevailed exclusively in St. Louis. The founders 
 of the city and its earliest inhabitants were of this 
 religious persuasion ; and their descendants, many 
 of whom are now among its most opulent and influ- 
 ential citizens, together with foreign immigrants of a 
 recent date, form a numerous and respectable body. 
 The names of Chouteau, Pratle, Sarpy, Cabanne, 
 Menard, Soulard, &c., &c., are those of early settlers 
 of the city which yet are often heard. 
 
 The " Cathedral of St. Luke" is a noble structure 
 of stone. It was consecrated with great pomp in 
 the autumn of '34, having occupied three years in 
 its erection. The site is unfavourable, but it pos- 
 sessed an interest for many of the old citizens which 
 no other spot could claim. Here had stood their 
 ancient sanctuary, with which was associated the 
 holy feelings of their earliest days \ here had been 
 the baptismal font and the marriage altar ; while 
 beneath reposed the sacred remains of many a being, 
 loved and honoured, but passed away. The former 
 church was a rude structure of logs. The dimen- 
 sions of the present building are a length of about 
 one hundred and forty feet, to a breadth of eighty 
 and an altitude of forty, with a tower of upward of 
 an hundred feet, surmounted by a lofty cross. The 
 steeple contains a peal of six bells, the three larger 
 of which were cast in Normandy, and chime very 
 pleasantly ; upon the four sides of the tower are the 
 dial-plates of a clock, which strikes the hours upon 
 
 f
 
 THE FAR WEST. 139 
 
 the bells. The porch of the edifice consists of four 
 large columns of polished freestone, of the Doric 
 order, with corresponding entablature, cornice, pedi- 
 ment, and frieze, the whole surface of the latter 
 being occupied with the inscription "In honorem 
 S. Ludovici. Deo Uni et Trino, Dicatum, A.D. 
 MDCCCXXXIV," the letters elevated in basso-re- 
 lievo. Over the entrances, which are three in num- 
 ber, are inscribed, in French and in English, pas- 
 sages from Scripture, upon tablets of Italian marble. 
 The porch is protected from the street by battle- 
 ments, surmounted by an iron railing, and adorned 
 by lofty candelabra of stone. The body of the 
 building is divided by two colonnades, of five pillars 
 each, into three aisles. The columns, composed of 
 brick, stuccoed to imitate marble, are of the Doric 
 order, supporting a cornice and entablature, decora- 
 ted with arabesques and medallions ; and upon them 
 reposes the arch of the elliptic-formed and panelled 
 ceiling. Between the columns are suspended eight 
 splendid chandeliers, which, when lighted at night, 
 produce a magnificent effect. The walls are en- 
 riched by frescoes and arabesques, and the windows 
 are embellished with transparencies, presenting the 
 principal transactions of the Saviour's mission. 
 This is said to be one of the first attempts at a sub- 
 stitute for the painted glass of the Middle Ages, and 
 was executed, together with the other pictorial dec- 
 orations of the edifice, by an artist named Leon, 
 sent over for the purpose from France. The effect 
 is grand. Even the gairish sunbeams are mellowed 
 down as they struggle dimly through the richly-col-
 
 140 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 cured hangings, and the light throughout the sacred 
 pile seems tinged with rainbow hues. In the chan- 
 cel of the church, at the bottom of the centre aisle, 
 elevated by a flight of steps, and enclosed by a bal- 
 ustrade of the Corinthian order, is situated the sanc- 
 tuary. Upon either side stand pilasters to represent 
 marble, decorated with festoons of wheat-ears and 
 vines, symbolical of the eucharist, and surmounted 
 with caps of the Doric order. On the right, between 
 the pilasters, is a gallery for the choir, with the or- 
 gan in the rear, and on the left side is a veiled gal- 
 lery for the " Sisters of Charity" connected with the 
 convent and the other institutions of the church. 
 The altar-piece at the bottom of the sanctuary rep- 
 resents the Saviour upon the cross, with his mother 
 and two of his disciples at his feet ; on either side 
 rise two fluted Corinthian columns, with a broken 
 pediment and gilded caps, supporting a gorgeous 
 entablature. Above the whole is an elliptical win- 
 dow, hung with the transparency of a dove, emble- 
 matic of the Holy Ghost, shedding abroad rays of 
 light. The high altar and the tabernacle stand be- 
 low, and the decorations on festal occasions, as well 
 as the vestments of the officiating priests, are splen- 
 did and imposing. Over the bishop's seat, in a side 
 arch of the sanctuary, hangs a beautiful painting of 
 St. Louis, titular of the cathedral, presented by the 
 amiable Louis XVIII. of France previous to his 
 exile. At the bottom of each of the side aisles of 
 the church stand two chapels, at the same elevation 
 with the sanctuary. Between two fluted columns 
 of the Ionic order is suspended, in each chapel, an
 
 THE FAR WEST. 141 
 
 altar-piece, with a valuable painting above. The 
 piece on the left represents St. Vincent of Gaul en- 
 gaged in chanty on a winter's day, and the picture 
 above is the marriage of the blessed Virgin. The 
 altar-piece of the right represents St. Patrick of Ire- 
 land in his pontifical robes, and above is a painting 
 of our Saviour and the centurion, said to be by 
 Paul Veronese. At the opposite extremity of the 
 building, near the side entrances, are two valuable 
 pieces ; one said to be by Rubens, of the Virgin 
 and Child, the other the martyrdom of St. Bartholo- 
 mew. Above rise extensive galleries in three rows ; 
 to the right is the baptismal font, and a landscape 
 of the Saviour's immersion in Jordan. Beneath the 
 sanctuary of the church is the lower chapel, divided 
 into three aisles by as many arches, supported by 
 pilasters, which, as well as the walls, are painted to 
 imitate marble. There is here an altar and a mar- 
 ble tabernacle, where mass is performed during the 
 week, and the chapel is decorated by fourteen paint- 
 ings, representing different stages of the Saviour's 
 passion.* 
 
 In the western suburbs of the city, upon an emi- 
 nence, stand the buildings of the St. Louis Univer- 
 sity, handsome structures of brick. The institution 
 is conducted by Jesuits, and most of the higher 
 branches of learning are taught. The present site 
 has been offered for sale, and the seminary is to be 
 removed some miles into the interior. Connected 
 
 * In this outline of the Cathedral the author is indebted largely 
 to a minute description by the Rev. Mr. Lutz, the officiating priest, 
 published in the Missouri Gazetteer. 
 
 . > " 
 
 1
 
 142 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 with the college is a medical school of recent date. 
 The chapel of the institution is a large, airy room, 
 hung with antique and valuable paintings. Two 
 of these, suspended on each side of the altar, said to 
 be by Rubens, are master-pieces of the art. One of 
 them represents Ignatius Loyola, founder of the 
 order of Jesuits ; the other is the full-length picture 
 of the celebrated Francis Xavier, apostle to the In- 
 dies, who died at Goa while engaged in his benev- 
 olent labours. In an oratory above hangs a large 
 painting by the same master ; a powerful, though 
 unfinished production. All the galleries of the 
 buildings are decorated with paintings, some of 
 which have but little to commend them to notice 
 but their antiquity. The library embraces about 
 twelve hundred volumes, mostly in the French lan- 
 guage. The Universal Geography of Braviara, a 
 valuable work of eleven folios, brilliantly illumina- 
 ted, and the Acta Sanctorum, an enormous work 
 of forty-two folio volumes, chiefly attract the visit- 
 er's attention. The philosophical apparatus attached 
 to the institution is very insufficient. Most of the 
 pupils of the institution are French, and they are 
 gathered from all quarters of the South and West ; 
 a great number of them are from Louisiana, sons 
 of the planters. 
 St. Louis.
 
 THE FAR WEST, 143 
 
 XIII. 
 
 11 Away ! away ! and on we dash ! 
 Torrents less rapid and less rash." 
 
 Mazeppa. 
 
 " Mark yon old mansion frowning through the trees, 
 Whose hollow turret woos the whistling breeze." 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 IT was a pleasant afternoon when, in company 
 with a number of friends, I left the city for an ex- 
 cursion into its southern suburbs, and a visit to the 
 military works, a few miles distant. The atmo- 
 sphere had that mild, mellowy mistiness which sub- 
 dues the fierce glare of the sunbeams, and flings over 
 every object a softened shade. A gentle breeze 
 from the south was astir balmily and blandly among 
 the leaves ; in fine, it was one of those grateful, 
 genial seasons, when the senses sympathize with 
 the quietude of external creation, and there is no 
 reason, earthly or unearthly, why the inward man 
 should not sympathize with the man without ; a sea- 
 son when you are at peace with yourself, and at 
 peace with every object, animate, inanimate, or veg- 
 etable, about you. Our party consisted of eight 
 precious souls, and " all agog to dash through thick 
 and thin," if essential to a jovial jaunt. And now 
 fain would I enumerate those worthy individuals, to- 
 gether with their several peculiarities and disposi- 
 tions, good and bad, did not a certain delicacy for-
 
 144 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 bid. Suffice it to say, the excursion was devised in 
 honour, and for the especial benefit, of a young and re- 
 cently-married couple from " the city of monuments 
 and fountains," who were enjoying their honey-moon 
 in a trip to the Far West. Passing through the 
 narrow streets and among the ancient edifices of the 
 old city, we came to that section called South St. 
 Louis. This is destined to become the district of 
 manufactures ; large quantities of bituminous coal, 
 little inferior to that of the Alleghanies, is here 
 found ; and railroads to the celebrated Iron Mount- 
 ain, sixty miles distant, and to the coal-banks of the 
 Illinois bluffs, as well as to the northern section of 
 the city, are projected. The landing is good, the 
 shore being composed of limestone and marble, of 
 two different species, both of which admit a high 
 degree of polish. There is also quarried in this 
 vicinity a kind of freestone, which, when fresh from 
 the bed, is soft, but, on exposure to the atmosphere, 
 becomes dense and hard. We passed a number of 
 commodious farmhouses as we ambled along ; and 
 now and then, at intervals through the trees, was 
 caught a glimpse of the flashing sheen of the river 
 gliding along upon our left. At a short distance 
 from the road were to be seen the ruins of the 
 " Eagle Powder-works," destroyed by fire in the 
 spring of '36. They had been in operation only 
 three years previous to their explosion, and their 
 daily manufacture was three hundred pounds of su- 
 perior powder. The report and concussion of the 
 explosion was perceived miles around the country, 
 and the loss sustained by the proprietors was esti-
 
 THE PAR WEST. 145 
 
 mated at forty thousand dollars. The site of these 
 works was a broad plain, over which, as our horses 
 were briskly galloping, a circumstance occurred 
 which could boast quite as much of reality as ro- 
 mance. 
 
 To my own especial gallantry gallant man had 
 been intrusted the precious person of the fair bride, 
 and lightly and gracefully pressed her fairy form 
 upon the back of a bright-eyed, lithe little animal, 
 with a spirit buoyant as her own. The steed upon 
 which I was myself mounted was a powerful crea- 
 ture, with a mouth as unyielding as the steel bit he 
 was constantly champing. The lady prided herself, 
 not without reason, upon her boldness and grace in 
 horsemanship and her skill in the manege; and, as 
 we rode somewhat in advance of our cavalcade, the 
 proposal thoughtlessly dropped from her that we 
 should elope and leave our companions in the lurch. 
 Hardly had the syllables left her lip, than the reins 
 were flung loose upon the horses' manes ; they 
 bounded on, and away, away, away the next mo- 
 ment were we skirring over the plain, like the steed 
 of the Muses on a steeple-chase. A single shout 
 of warning to my fair .companion was returned 
 by an ejaculation of terror, for her horse had be- 
 come his own master. The race of John Gilpin or 
 of Alderman Purdy were, either or both of them, 
 mere circumstances to ours. For more than a mile 
 our excited steeds swept onward in their furious 
 course to the admiration of beholders ; and how long 
 the race might have been protracted is impossible 
 to say, had not certain sons of Erin worthy souls 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 146 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 in the innocence of their hearts and the ignorance 
 of their heads, and by way of perpetrating a notable 
 exploit, thought proper to throw themselves from 
 the roadside directly before us. The suddenness 
 of the movement brought both our animals nearly 
 upon their haunches, and the next minute saw the 
 fair bride quietly seated in the dust beneath their 
 feet. The shock had flung her from her seat, but 
 she arose uninjured. To leap from my saddle and 
 place the lady again in hers was the work of a mo- 
 ment ; and when the cortege made its appearance, 
 our runaway steeds were ambling along in a fashion 
 the most discreet and exemplary imaginable. 
 
 The situation of the Arsenal, upon a swelling 
 bank of the river, is delightful. It is surrounded 
 by a strong wall of stone, embracing extensive 
 grounds, through which a green, shady avenue leads 
 from the highway. The structures are composed 
 chiefly of unhewn limestone, enclosing a rectangu- 
 lar area, and comprise about a dozen large build- 
 ings, while a number of lesser ones are perceived 
 here and there among the groves. The principal 
 structure is one of four stories, looking down upon 
 the Mississippi, with a beautiful esplanade, forming 
 a kind of natural glacis to the whole armory, sweep- 
 ing away to the water. Upon the right and left, in 
 the same line with the rectangle, are situated the 
 dwellings of the officers ; noble edifices of hewn 
 stone, with cultivated garden-plats and fruit-trees. 
 The view of the stream is here delightful, and the 
 breeze came up from its surface fresh and free. A 
 pair of pet deer were frolickisg along the shore. 
 Most of the remaining structures are offices and
 
 THE FAR WEST. 147 
 
 workshops devoted to the manufacture of arms. 
 Of these there were but few in the Arsenal, large 
 quantities having been despatched to the South for 
 the Florida war. It is designed, I am informed, to 
 mount ordnance at these works to no great extent, 
 probably ; there were several pieces of artillery al- 
 ready prepared. The slits and loopholes in the 
 deep walls, the pyramids of balls and bombshells, 
 and the heavy carronades piled in tiers, give the 
 place rather a warlike aspect for a peaceable inland 
 fortress. 
 
 A ride of a few miles brought us to the brow of a 
 considerable elevation, from which we looked down 
 upon the venerable little hamlet of Carondelet, or 
 Vuide Poche, as it is familiarly termed ; a nom de 
 nique truly indicative of the poverty of pocket and 
 the richness of fancy of its primitive habitans. The 
 village lies in a sleepy-looking hollow, scooped out 
 between the bluffs and the water; and from the 
 summit of the hill the eye glances beyond it over the 
 lengthened vista of the river-reach, at this place 
 miles in extent Along the shore a deeply-laden 
 steamer was toiling against the current on her pas- 
 sage to the city. Descending the elevation, we 
 were soon thridding the narrow, tortuous, lane-like 
 avenues of the old village. Every object, the very 
 soil even, seemed mossgrown and hoary with time 
 departed. More than seventy years have passed 
 away since its settlement commenced ; and now, 
 as then, its inhabitants consist of hunters, and trap- 
 pers, and river-boatmen, absent most of the year on 
 their various excursions. The rude, crumbling ten-
 
 148 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 ements of stone or timber, of peculiar structure, 
 with their whitewashed walls stained by age ; the 
 stoccade enclosures of the gardens ; the venerable 
 aspect of the ancient fruit-trees, mossed with years, 
 and the unique and singular garb, manner, and ap- 
 pearance of the swarthy villagers, all betoken an 
 earlier era and a peculiar people. The little dark- 
 eyed, dark-haired boys were busy with their games 
 in the streets ; and, as we paced leisurely along, 
 we could perceive in the little cabarets the older 
 portion of the habitans, cosily congregated around 
 the table near the open door or upon the balcony, 
 apparently discussing the gossip of the day and the 
 qualities of sundry potations before them. Ascend- 
 ing the hill in the rear of the village, we entered the 
 rude chapel of stone reared upon its brow : the in- 
 habitants are all Catholics, and to this faith is the 
 edifice consecrated. The altar-piece, with its dec- 
 orations, was characterized by simplicity and taste. 
 Three ancient paintings, representing scenes in the 
 mission of the Saviour, were suspended from the 
 walls ; the brass-plated missal reposed upon the 
 tabernacle ; the crucifix rose in the centre of the 
 sanctuary, and candles were planted on either side. 
 Evergreens were neatly festooned around the sanc- 
 tuary, and every object betrayed a degree of taste. 
 Attached to the church is a small burial-ground, 
 crowded with tenants. The Sisters of Charity 
 have an asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, in a pros- 
 perous condition. Our tarry was but a brief one > 
 as the distrust with which our movements were 
 regarded by the villagers was evident; nor is this
 
 THE FAR WEST. 149 
 
 suspicion at all to be wondered at when we consider 
 the numberless impostures of which, by immigrants, 
 they have been made the victims. 
 
 A few miles through groves of oaks brought us 
 in view of that beautiful spot, Jefferson Barracks. 
 The buildings, constructed of stone, are romanti- 
 cally situated on a bold bluff, the base of which is 
 swept by the Mississippi, and were intended to gar- 
 rison an entire regiment of cavalry for frontier ser- 
 vice. Three sides of the quadrangle of the parade 
 are bounded by the lines of galleried barracks, with 
 fine buildings at the extremities for the residence 
 of the officers ; while the fourth opens upon a noble 
 terrace overlooking the river. The commissary's 
 house, the magazines, and extensive stables, lie with- 
 out the parallelogram, beneath the lofty trees. From 
 the terrace is commanded a fine view of the river, 
 with its alluvial islands, the extensive woodlands 
 upon the opposite side, and the pale cliffs of the 
 bluffs stretching away beyond the bottom. In the 
 rear of the garrison rises a grove of forest-trees, 
 consisting of heavy oaks, with broad-spreading 
 branches, and a green, smooth sward beneath. The 
 surface is beautifully undulating, and the spot pre- 
 sents a specimen of park scenery as perfect as the 
 Country can boast. A neat burial-ground is located 
 in this wood, and the number of its white wooden 
 slabs gave melancholy evidence of the ravages of the 
 Cholera among that corps of fine fellows which, four 
 years before, garrisoned the Barracks. Many a one 
 has here laid away his bones to rest far from the 
 home of his nativity. There is another cemetery
 
 150 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 on the southern outskirts of the Barracks, where 
 are the tombs of several officers of the army. 
 
 The site of Jefferson Barracks was selected by 
 General Atkinson as the station of a corps de re- 
 serve, for defence of the Southern, Western, and 
 Northern frontiers. For the purpose of its design, 
 experience has tested its efficiency. The line of 
 frontier, including the advanced post of Council 
 Bluffs on the Missouri, describes the arch of a cir- 
 cle, the chord of which passes nearly through this 
 point ; and a reserve post here is consequently 
 available for the entire line of frontier. From its 
 central position and its proximity to the mouths of 
 the great rivers leading into the interior, detach- 
 ments, by means of steam transports, may be 
 thrown with great rapidity and nearly equal facil- 
 ity into the garrisons upon the Upper Mississippi, 
 the Missouri, the Arkansas, Red, or Sabine Rivers. 
 This was tested in the Black Hawk war, and, in- 
 deed, in every inroad of the Indian tribes, these 
 troops have first been summoned to the field. 
 When disengaged, the spot furnishes a salubrious 
 position for the reserve of the Western army. By 
 the latest scheme of frontier defence, a garrison of 
 fifteen hundred troops is deemed necessary for this 
 cantonment. 
 
 A few miles below the Barracks, along the river- 
 bank, is situated quite a remarkable cave. I visited 
 and explored it one fine afternoon, with a number 
 of friends. With some difficulty, after repeated 
 inquiry, we succeeded in discovering the object of 
 our search, and from a neighbouring farmhouse
 
 THE FAR WEST. 151 
 
 furnished ourselves with lights and a guide. The 
 latter was a German, who, according to his own 
 account, had been something of a hero in his way 
 and day ; he was with Napoleon at Moscow, and 
 was subsequently taken prisoner by Blucher's Prus- 
 sian Lancers at Waterloo, having been wounded 
 in the knee by a musket-ball. To our edification 
 he detailed a number of his " moving accidents by 
 flood and field." A few steps from the farmhouse 
 brought us to the mouth of the cavern, situated in 
 the face of a ragged limestone precipice nearly a 
 hundred feet high, and the summit crowned with 
 trees and shrubbery ; it forms the abrupt termina- 
 tion to a ravine, which, united to another coming 
 in on the right, continues on to the river, a distance 
 of several hundred yards, through a wood. The 
 entrance to the cave is exceedingly rough and rug- 
 ged, piled with huge fragments of the cliff which 
 have fallen from above, and it can be approached 
 only with difficulty. It is formed, indeed, by the 
 rocky bed of a stream flowing out from the cave's 
 mouth, inducing the belief that to this circumstance 
 the ravine owes its origin. The entrance is formed 
 by a broad arch about twenty feet in altitude, with 
 twice that breadth between the abutments. As 
 we entered, the damp air of the cavern swept out 
 around us chill and penetrating. An abrupt angle 
 of the wall soon shut out the daylight, and we ad- 
 vanced by the light of our candles. The floor, 
 and roof, and sides of the cavern became ex- 
 ceedingly irregular as we proceeded, and, after 
 penetrating to the depth of several hundred yards.
 
 152 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 the floor and ceiling approached each other so 
 nearly that we were forced to pursue our way 
 upon our hands and knees. In some chambers the 
 roof and walls assumed grotesque and singular 
 shapes, caused by the water trickling through the 
 porous limestone. In one apartment was to be 
 seen the exact outline of a human foot of enormous 
 size ; in another, that of an inverted boat ; while 
 the vault in a third assumed the shape of an im- 
 mense coffin. The sole proprietors of the cavern 
 seemed the bats, and of these the number was in- 
 credible. In some places the reptiles suspended 
 themselves like swarms of bees from the roof and 
 walls ; and so compactly one upon the other did 
 they adhere, that scores could have been crushed 
 at a blow. After a ramble of more than an hour 
 within these shadowy realms, during which several 
 false passages upon either side, soon abruptly ter- 
 minating, were explored, we at length once more 
 emerged to the light and warmth of the sunbeams, 
 thoroughly drenched by the dampness of the at- 
 mosphere and the water dripping from the roof. 
 
 Ancient Indian tumuli and graves are often 
 found in this neighbourhood. On the Riviere des 
 Peres, which is crossed by the road leading to the 
 city, and about seven miles distant, there are a 
 number of graves which, from all appearance, 
 seem not to have been disturbed for centuries. 
 The cemetery is situated on a high bluff looking 
 down upon the stream, and is said to have con- 
 tained skeletons of a gigantic size. Each grave 
 consisted of a shallow basin, formed by flat stones
 
 THE FAR WEST. 153 
 
 planted upon their edges ; most of them, however, 
 are mossed by age, or have sunk beneath the sur- 
 face, and their tenants have crumbled to their ori- 
 ginal dust. Some years since, a Roman coin of a 
 rare species was found upon the banks of the Riv- 
 iere des Peres by an Indian. This may, perhaps, 
 be classed among the other antiquities of European 
 origin which are frequently found. A number of 
 Roman coins, bearing an early date of the Chris- 
 tian era, are said to have been discovered in a cave 
 near Nashville, in the State of Tennessee, which at 
 the time excited no little interest among antiqua- 
 ries : they were doubtless deposited by some of 
 the settlers of the country from Europe. Settle- 
 ments on the Riviere des Peres are said to have 
 been commenced at an early period by the Jesuits, 
 and one of them was drowned near its mouth : from 
 this circumstance it derived its name. In the bed 
 of this stream, about six miles from the city, is a 
 sulphur spring, which is powerfully sudorific ; and, 
 when taken in any quantity, throws out an erup- 
 tion over the whole body. A remarkable cavern 
 is said to be situated on this river, by some consid- 
 ered superior to that below the Barracks. A short 
 distance from Vuide Poche are to be seen the re- 
 mains of a pile of ruins, said to be those of a fort 
 erected by La Salle when, on his second visit, he 
 took possession of the country in the name of the 
 King of France, and in honour of him called it 
 Louisiana. 
 St. Louis.
 
 154 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Here I have 'scaped the city's stifling heat, 
 
 Its horrid sounds and its polluted air ; 
 And, where the season's milder fervours beat, 
 
 And gales, that sweep the forest borders, bear 
 The song of bird and sound of running stream, 
 Have come a while to wander and to dream." 
 
 BRYANT. 
 
 " I lingered, by some soft enchantment bound, 
 
 And gazed, enraptured, on the lovely scene ; 
 From the dark summit of an Indian mound 
 I saw the plain outspread in living green ; 
 Its fringe of cliffs was in the distance seen, 
 And the dark line of forests sweeping round." 
 
 FLINT. 
 
 THERE are few things more delightfully refresh- 
 ing, amid the fierce fervour of midsummer, than 
 to forsake the stifled, polluted atmosphere of the 
 city for the cool breezes of its forest suburbs. A 
 freshened elasticity seems gliding through the lan- 
 guid system, bracing up the prostrated fibres of the 
 frame ; the nerves thrill with renewed tensity, 
 and the vital flood courses in fuller gush, and leaps 
 onward with more bounding buoyancy in its fe- 
 vered channels. Every one has experienced this ; 
 and it was under circumstances like these that I 
 found myself one bright day, after a delay at St. 
 Louis which began at length to be intolerably te- 
 dious, forsaking the sultry, sun-scorched streets of
 
 THE FAR WEST. 155 
 
 the city, and crossing the turbid flood for a tour 
 upon the prairies of Illinois. How delightful to a 
 frame just freed from the feverish confinement of 
 a sick-chamber, brief though it had been, was the 
 fresh breeze which came careering over the water, 
 rippling along the polished surface, and gayly riding 
 the miniature waves of its own creation ! The finest 
 point from which to view the little " City of the 
 French" is from beneath the enormous sycamores 
 upon the opposite bank of the Mississippi. It is 
 from this spot alone that anything approaching to a 
 cosmorama can be commanded. The city, retreat- 
 ing as it does from the river's brink its buildings 
 of every diversity of form, material, and structure, 
 promiscuously heaped the one upon the other, and 
 the whole intermingled with the fresh green of for- 
 est-trees, may boast of much scenic beauty. The 
 range of white limestone warehouses, circling like 
 a crescent the shore, form the most prominent fea- 
 ture of the foreground, while the forest of shrub- 
 oaks sweeps away in the rear. For some time I 
 gazed upon this imposing view, and then, slowly 
 turning my horse's head, was upon the dusty thor- 
 oughfare to Edwardsville. For the first time I 
 found myself upon the celebrated " American Bot- 
 tom," a tract of country which, for fertility and 
 depth of soil, is perhaps unsurpassed in the world. 
 A fine road of baked loam extended along my route. 
 Crossing Cahokia Creek, which cuts its deep bed 
 diagonally through the bottom from the bluffs some 
 six miles distant, and threading a grove of the 
 beautiful pecan, with its long trailing boughs and
 
 156 THE FAR WEST* 
 
 delicate leaves, my path was soon winding 
 fully away among those venerable monuments of a 
 race now passed from the earth. The eye is struck 
 at first by the number of these eminences, as well 
 as by their symmetry of form and regularity of 
 outline ; and the most familiar resemblance sug- 
 gested is that of gigantic hay-ricks sprinkled over 
 the uniform surface of the prairie on every side. 
 As you advance, however, into the plain, leaving 
 the range of mounds upon the left, something of ar- 
 rangement is detected in their relative position ; 
 and a design too palpable is betrayed to mistake 
 them for the handiwork of Nature. Upward of 
 one hundred of these mounds, it is stated, may be 
 enumerated within seven miles of St. Louis, their 
 altitude varying from ten to sixty feet, with a cir- 
 cumference at the base of about as many yards. 
 One of these, nearly in the centre of the first collec- 
 tion, is remarked as considerably larger than those 
 around, and from its summit is commanded an ex- 
 tensive view of the scene. The group embraces, 
 perhaps, fifty tumuli, sweeping off from opposite 
 the city to the northeast, in form of a crescent, par- 
 allel to the river, and at a distance from it of about 
 one mile : they extend about the same distance, 
 and a belt of forest alone obstructs their view from 
 the city. When this is removed, and the prairie is 
 under cultivation, the scene laid open must be 
 beautiful. The outline of the mounds is ordinarily 
 that of a gracefully-rounded cone of varying de- 
 clivity, though often the form is oblong, approach- 
 ing the rectangle or ellipse. In some instances
 
 THE PAR WEST. 157 
 
 they are perfectly square, with a level area upon 
 the summit sufficient for a dwelling and the neces- 
 sary purlieus. Most of them are clothed with 
 dense thickets and the coarse grass of the bottom ; 
 while here and there stands out an aged oak, rooted 
 in the mould, tossing its green head proudly to the 
 breeze, its rough bark shaggy with moss, and the 
 pensile parasite flaunting from its branches. Some 
 few of the tumuli, however, are quite naked, and 
 present a rounded, beautiful surface from the sur- 
 rounding plain. At this point, about half a mile 
 from the river-bank, commencing with the first 
 group of mounds, extends the railroad across the 
 bottom to the bluffs. The expense of this work 
 was considerable. It crosses a lake, into the bed 
 of which piles were forced a depth of ninety 
 feet before a foundation for the tracks sufficiently 
 firm could be obtained. Coal is transported to St. 
 Louis upon this railway direct from the mines ; 
 and the beneficial effects to be anticipated from it 
 in other respects are very great. A town called 
 Pitlsburg has been laid out at the foot of the coal 
 bluffs. 
 
 Leaving the first collection of tumuli, the road 
 wound away smooth and uniform through the level 
 prairie, with here and there upon the left a slight 
 elevation from its low surface, seeming a continua- 
 tion of the group behind, or a link of union to those 
 yet before. It was a sweet afternoon ; the atmo- 
 sphere was still and calm, and summer's golden 
 haze was sleeping magnificently on the far-off bluffs. 
 At intervals the soft breath of the " sweet South" 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 158 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 came dancing over the tall, glossy herbage, and the 
 many-hued prairie-flowers flashed gayly in the sun-* 
 light. There was the heliotrope, in all its gaudy 
 but magnificent forms ; there the deep cerulean of 
 the fringed gentiana, delicate as an iris ; there the 
 mellow gorgeousness of the solidago, in some spots 
 along the pathway, spreading out itself, as it were, 
 into a perfect "field of the cloth of gold ;" and the 
 balmy fragrance of the aromatic wild thyme or the 
 burgamot, scattered in rich profusion over the plain, 
 floated over all. Small coveys of the prairie-fowl, 
 tetrao pratensis, a fine species of grouse, the un- 
 gainly form of the partridge, or that of the timid little 
 hare, would appear for a moment in the dusty road, 
 and, on my nearer approach, away they hurriedly 
 scudded beneath the friendly covert of the bright- 
 leaved sumac or the thickets of the rosebush. Ex- 
 tensive groves of the wild plum and the crab-apple, 
 bending beneath the profusion of clustering fruitage, 
 succeeded each other for miles along the path as I 
 rode onward ; now extending in continuous thickets, 
 and then swelling up like green islets from the sur- 
 face of the plain, their cool recesses affording a re- 
 freshing shade for the numerous herds. The rude 
 farmhouse, too, with its ruder outbuildings, half bu- 
 ried in the dark luxuriance of its maize-fields, from 
 time to time was seen along the route. 
 
 After a delightful drive of half an hour the sec- 
 ond group of eminences, known as the " Cantine 
 Mounds," appeared upon the prairie at a distance 
 of three or four miles, the celebrated " Monk Hill," 
 largest monument of the kind yet discovered in 
 North America, heaving up 'its giant, forest-clothed
 
 THE FAR WEST. 159 
 
 form in the midst. What are the reflections to 
 which this stupendous earth-heap gives birth ? 
 What the associations which throng the excited 
 fancy ? What a field for conjecture ! What a 
 boundless range for the workings of imagination! 
 What eye can view this venerable monument of 
 the past, this mighty landmark in the lapse of ages, 
 this gray chronicler of hoary centuries, and turn 
 away uninterested ? 
 
 As it is first beheld, surrounded by the lesser 
 heaps, it is mistaken by the traveller for an elevation 
 of natural origin : as he draws nigh, and at length 
 stands at the base, its stupendous magnitude, its 
 lofty summit, towering above his head and throwing 
 its broad shadow far across the meadow ; its slopes, 
 ploughed with yawning ravines by the torrents of 
 centuries descending to the plain; its surface and 
 declivities perforated by the habitations of burrow- 
 ing animals, and carpeted with tangled thickets ; the 
 vast size of the aged oaks rearing themselves from 
 its soil ; and, finally, the farmhouse^ with its various 
 structures, its garden, and orchard, and well rising 
 upon the broad area of the summit, and the carriage 
 pathway winding up from the base, all confirm his 
 impression that no hand but that of the Mightiest 
 could have reared the enormous mass. At that 
 moment, should he be assured that this vast earth- 
 heap was of origin demonstrably artificial, he would 
 smile ; but credulity the most sanguine would fail 
 to credit the assertion. But when, with jealous eye, 
 slowly and cautiously, and with measured footsteps, 
 lie has circled its base ; when he has surveyed its 
 slopes and declivities from every position, and ha*
 
 160 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 remarked the peculiar uniformity of its structure 
 and the mathematical exactitude of its outline ; when 
 he has ascended to its summit, and looked round 
 upon the piles of a similar character by which it is 
 surrounded ; when he has taken into consideration 
 its situation upon a river-bottom of nature decidedly 
 diluvial, and, of consequence, utterly incompatible 
 with the natural origin of such elevations ; when he 
 has examined the soil of which it is composed, and 
 has discovered it to be uniformly, throughout the en- 
 tire mass, of the same mellow and friable species as 
 that of the prairie at its base ; and when he has lis- 
 tened with scrutiny to the facts which an examina- 
 tion of its depths has thrown to light of its nature 
 and its contents, he is compelled, however reluc- 
 tantly, yet without a doubt, to declare that the gi- 
 gantic pile is incontestibly the WORKMANSHIP OF 
 MAN'S HAND. But, with such an admission, what is 
 the crowd of reflections which throng and startle 
 the mind ? What a series of unanswerable inquiries 
 succeed ! When was this stupendous earth-heap 
 reared up from the plain ? By what race of beings 
 was the vast undertaking accomplished ? What 
 was its purpose ? What changes in its form and 
 magnitude have taken place ? What vicissitudes 
 and revolutions have, in the lapse of centuries, rolled 
 like successive waves over the plains at its base ? 
 As we reflect, we anxiously look around us for some 
 tradition, some time-stained chronicle, some age- 
 worn record, even the faintest and most unsatisfac- 
 tory legend, upon which to repose our credulity, and 
 relieve the inquiring solicitude of the mind, Bui
 
 THE FAR WEST. 161 
 
 our research is hopeless. The present race of ab- 
 origines can tell nothing of these tumuli. To them, 
 as to us, they are veiled in mystery. Ages since, 
 long ere the white-face came, while this fair land 
 was yet the home of his fathers, the simple Indian 
 stood before this venerable earth-heap, and gazed, 
 and wondered, and turned away. 
 
 But there is another reflection which, as we gaze 
 upon these venerable tombs, addresses itself directly 
 to our feelings, and bows them in humbleness. It 
 is, that soon our memory and that of our own gen- 
 eration will, like that of other times and other men, 
 have passed away ; that when these frail tenements 
 shall have been laid aside to moulder, the remem- 
 brance will soon follow them to the land of for- 
 getfulness. Ah, if there be an object in all the wide 
 universe of human desires for which the heart of 
 man yearns with an intensity of craving more ago- 
 nizing and deathless than for any other, it is that 
 the memory should live after the poor body is dust. 
 It was this eternal principle of our nature which 
 reared the lonely tombs of Egypt amid the sands 
 and barrenness of the desert. For ages untold have 
 the massive and gloomy pyramids looked down upon 
 the floods of the Nile, and generation after genera- 
 tion has passed away ; yet their very existence still 
 remains a mystery, and their origin points down our 
 inquiry far beyond the grasp of human ken, into the 
 boiling mists, the "wide involving shades" of cen- 
 turies past. And yet how fondly did they who, 
 with the toil, and blood, and sweat, and misery of 
 ages, upreared these stupendous piles, anticipate 
 . 02
 
 162 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 an immortality for their name which, like the efful- 
 gence of a golden eternity, should for ever linger 
 around their summits ! So was it with the ancient 
 tomb-builders of this New World ; so has it been 
 with man in every stage of his existence, from the 
 hour that the giant Babel first reared its dusky walls 
 from the plains of Shinar down to the era of the 
 present generation. And yet how hopeless, despe- 
 rately, eternally hopeless are such aspirations of the 
 children of men ! As nations or as individuals, our 
 memory we can never embalm ! A few, indeed, 
 may retain the forlorn relic within the sanctuary of 
 hearts which loved us while with them, and that 
 with a tenderness stronger than death; but, with 
 the great mass of mankind, our absence can be no- 
 ticed only for a day ; and then the ranks close up, 
 and a gravestone tells the passing stranger that we 
 lived and died : a few years the finger of time has 
 been busy with the inscription, and we are as if we 
 had never been. If, then, it must be even so, 
 
 " Oh, let us keep the soul embalm'd and pure 
 In living virtue ; that, when both must sever, 
 Although corruption may our frame consume, 
 Th' immortal spirit in the skies may bloom." 
 
 St. Clair Co., Illinois.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 163 
 
 XV. 
 
 " Are they here, 
 
 The dead of other days 1 And did the dust 
 Of these fair solitudes once stir with life 
 And burn with passion 1 All is gone ; 
 All, save the piles of earth that hold their bones, 
 The platforms where they worshipp'd unknown gods, 
 The barriers which they builded from the soil 
 To keep the foe at bay." 
 
 The Prairies. 
 
 THE antiquity of " Monk Mound" is a circum- 
 stance which fails not to arrest the attention of every 
 visiter. That centuries have elapsed since this vast 
 pile of earth was heaped up from the plain, no one can 
 doubt : every circumstance, even the most minute 
 and inconsiderable, confirm an idea which the ven- 
 erable oaks upon its soil conclusively demonstrate. 
 With this premise admitted, consider for a moment 
 the destructive effects of the elements even for a 
 limited period upon the works of our race. Little 
 more than half a century has elapsed since the war 
 of our revolution ; but where are the fortifications, 
 and parapets, and military defences then thrown 
 up? The earthy ramparts of Bunker Hill were 
 nearly obliterated long ago by the levelling finger 
 of time, and scarce a vestige now remains to assist 
 in tracing out the line of defence. The same is 
 true with these works all over the country ; and even 
 those of the last war those at Baltimore, for exam-
 
 164 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 pie are vanishing as fast as the elements can melt 
 them away. Reflect, then, that this vast earth-heap 
 of which I am writing is composed of a soil far more 
 yielding in its nature than they ; that its superfices 
 are by no means compact; and then conceive, if 
 you can, its stupendous character before it had 
 bided the rains, and snows, and storm-winds of cen- 
 turies, and before the sweeping floods of the " Father 
 of Waters" had ever circled its base. Our thoughts 
 are carried back by the reflection to the era of 
 classic fiction, arid we almost fancy another war 
 of the Titans against the heavens 
 
 " Conati imponere Pelio Ossam 
 atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum," 
 
 if a quotation from the sweet bard of Mantua, upon 
 a topic like the present, may be pardoned. How 
 large an army of labourers, without the use of iron 
 utensils, as we have every reason to suppose was 
 the case, would be required for scraping up from the 
 prairie's surface this huge pile ; and how many years 
 would suffice for its completion ? No one can doubt 
 that the broad surface of the American Bottom, in 
 its whole length and breadth, together with all the 
 neighbouring region on either bank of the Missis- 
 sippi, once swarmed with living men and animals, 
 even as does now the depths of its soil with their 
 remains. The collection of mounds which I have 
 been attempting to describe would seem to indicate 
 two extensive cities within the extent of five miles ; 
 and other groups of the same character may be seen 
 upon a lower section of the bottom, to say nothing 
 of those within the more immediate vicinity of St.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 165 
 
 Louis. The design of these mounds, as has been 
 before stated, was various, undoubtedly ; many were 
 sepulchres, some fortifications, some watch-towers 
 or videttes, and some of the larger class, among 
 which we would place Monk Hill, were probably 
 devoted to the ceremonies of religion. 
 
 The number of the earth-heaps known as the 
 Cantine Mounds is about fifty, small and great. 
 They lie very irregularly along the southern and east- 
 ern bank of Cahokia Creek, occupying an area some 
 miles in circuit. They are of every form and every 
 size, from the mere molehill, perceptible only by 
 a deeper shade in the herbage, to the gigantic Monk 
 Mound, of which I have already said so much. 
 This vast heap stands about one hundred yards 
 from the creek, and the slope which faces it is 
 very precipitous, and clothed with aged timber. 
 The area of the base is about six hundred yards in 
 circumference, and the perpendicular altitude has 
 been estimated at from ninety to upward of a hun- 
 dred feet. The form is that of a rectangle, lying 
 north and south; and upon the latter extremity, which 
 commands a view down the bottom, is spread out a 
 broad -terrace, or rather a steppe to the main body, 
 about twenty feet lower than the summit, extending 
 the whole length of the side, and is one hundred and 
 fifty feet in breadth. At the left extremity of this 
 terrace winds up the sloping pathway from the 
 prairie to the summit of the mound. Formerly this 
 road sloped up an inclined plane, projecting from the 
 middle of the terrace, ten feet in breadth and twenty 
 in extent, and seemed graded for that purpose at
 
 166 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the erection of the mound. This declivity yet re- 
 mains, but now forms part of a corn-field. 
 
 The view from the southern extremity of the 
 mound, which is free from trees and underbrush, is 
 extremely beautiful. Away to the south sweeps off 
 .the broad river-bottom, at this place about seven 
 miles in width, its waving surface variegated by all 
 the magnificent hues of the summer Flora of the 
 prairies. At intervals, from the deep herbage is 
 flung back the flashing sheen of a silvery lake to the 
 oblique sunlight; while dense groves of the crab- 
 apple and other indigenous wild fruits are sprinkled 
 about like islets in the verdant sea. To the left, at 
 a distance of three or four miles, stretches away the 
 long line of bluffs, now presenting a surface naked 
 and rounded by groups of mounds, and now wooded 
 to -their summits, while a glimpse at -times may 
 be caught of the humble farmhouses at their base. 
 On the right meanders the Cantine Creek, which 
 gives the name to the group of mounds, betraying at 
 intervals its bright surface through the belt of forest 
 by which it is margined. In this direction, far away 
 in blue distance, rising through the mist and forest, 
 may be caught a glimpse of the spires and cupolas 
 of the city, glancing gayly in the rich summer sun. 
 The base of the mound is circled upon every side 
 by lesser elevations of every form and at various 
 distances. Of these, some lie in the heart of the 
 extensive maize-fields, which constitute the farm of 
 the proprietor of the principal mound, presenting a 
 beautiful exhibition of light and shade, shrouded as 
 they are in the dark, twinkling leaves. The most
 
 THE FAR WEST. 167 
 
 remarkable are two standing directly opposite the 
 southern extremity of the principal one, at a distance 
 of some hundred yards, in close proximity to each 
 other, and which never fail to arrest the eye. There 
 are also several large square mounds covered with 
 forest along the margin of the creek to the right, 
 and groups are caught rising from the declivities of 
 the distant bluffs. 
 
 Upon the western side of Monk Mound, at a dis- 
 tance of several yards from the summit, is a well 
 some eighty or ninety feet in depth ; the water of 
 which would be agreeable enough were not the 
 presence of sulphur, in some of its modifications, so 
 palpable. This well penetrates the heart of the 
 mound, yet, from its depth, cannot reach lower than 
 the level of the surrounding plain. I learned, upon 
 inquiry, that when this well was excavated, several 
 fragments of pottery, of decayed ears of corn, and 
 other articles, were thrown up from a depth of sixty- 
 five feet ; proof incontestible of the artificial struc- 
 ture of the mound. The associations, when drink- 
 ing the water of this well, united with its peculiar 
 flavour, are not of the most exquisite character, 
 when we reflect that the precious fluid has probably 
 filtrated, part of it, at least, through the contents of a 
 sepulchre. The present proprietor is about making 
 a transfer, I was informed, of the whole tract to a 
 gentleman of St. Louis, who intends establishing 
 here a house of entertainment. If this design is 
 carried into effect, the drive to this place will be the 
 most delightful in the vicinity of the city. 
 
 Monk Mound has derived its name and much of
 
 168 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 its notoriety from the circumstance that, in the early 
 part of the present century, for a number of years, 
 it was the residence of a society of ecclesiastics, of 
 the order La Trappe, the most ascetic of all the 
 monastic denominations. The monastery of La 
 Trappe was originally situated in the old province 
 of Perche, in the territory of Orleannois, in France, 
 which now, with a section of Normandy, constitutes 
 the department of Orne. Its site is said to have 
 been the loneliest and most desolate spot that could 
 be selected in the kingdom. The order was found- 
 ed in 1 140 by Rotrou, count of Perche ; but having 
 fallen into decay, and its discipline having become 
 much relaxed, it was reformed in 1664, five centu- 
 ries subsequent, by the Abbe Armand Ranee. This 
 celebrated ecclesiastic, history informs us, was in 
 early life a man of fashion and accomplishments ; of 
 splendid abilities, distinguished as a classical scholar 
 and translator of Anacreon's Odes. At length, the 
 sudden death of his mistress Montbazon, to whom 
 he was extremely attached, so affected him that he 
 forsook at once his libertine life, banished himself 
 from society, and introduced into the monastery of 
 La Trappe an austerity of discipline hitherto un- 
 known. The vows were chastity, poverty, obedi- 
 ence, and perpetual silence., The couch was a slab 
 of stone, the diet water an^bread once in twenty- 
 four hours, and each member removed a spadeful of 
 earth every day from the Spot of his intended grave. 
 The following passage relative to this monastery I 
 find quoted from an old French author ; and as the
 
 THE FAR WEST. 169 
 
 language and sentiments are forcible, I need hardly 
 apologize for introducing it entire. 
 
 " C'est la que se retirent, ceux qui ont commis 
 quelque crime secret, dont les remords les pour- 
 suivent; ceux qui sont tourmentes de vapeurs me- 
 lancoliques et religieuse ; ceux qui ont -oublie que 
 Dieu est le plus misericordieux des peres, et qui 
 ne voient en lui, que le plus cruel des tyrans ; ceux 
 qui reduisent d vieu, les souffrances, la mort et la 
 passion de Jesu Crist,, et qui ne voient la religion 
 que du cote effrayent et terrible : c'est la que sont 
 pratique des austerite qui abregent la vie, et sont 
 injure d la divinite. n 
 
 During the era of the Reign of Terror in France, 
 the monks of La Trappe, as well as all the other 
 orders of priesthood, were dispersed over Europe. 
 They increased greatly, however, notwithstanding 
 persecution, and societies established themselves in 
 England and Germany. From the latter country 
 emigrated the society which planted themselves 
 upon the American Bottom. They first settled in 
 the State of Kentucky; subsequently they estab- 
 lished themselves at the little French hamlet of Flo- 
 risant, and in 1809 they crossed the Mississippi, and, 
 strangely enough, selected for their residence the 
 spot I have been describing. Here they made a 
 purchase of about four hundred acres, and petitioned 
 Congress for a pre-emption right to some thousands 
 adjoining. The buildings which they occupied were 
 never of a very durable character, but consisted of 
 about half a dozen large structures of logs, on the 
 summit of the mound about fifty yards to the right 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 170 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 of the largest. This is twenty feet in height, and 
 upward of a hundred and fifty feet square ; a well 
 dug by the Trappists is yet to be seen, though the 
 whole mound is now buried in thickets. Their out- 
 buildings, stables, granaries, &c., which were nu- 
 merous, lay scattered about on the plain below. 
 Subsequently they erected an extensive structure 
 upon the terrace of the principal mound, and culti- 
 vated its soil for a kitchen-garden, while the area of 
 the summit was sown with wheat. Their territory 
 under cultivation consisted of about one hundred 
 acres, divided into three fields, and embracing sev- 
 eral of the mound-. 
 
 The society of the Trappists consisted of about 
 eighty monks, chiefly Germans and French, with a 
 few of our own countrymen, under governance of 
 one of their number called Father Urbain. Had 
 they remained, they anticipated an accession to their 
 number of about two hundred monks from Europe. 
 Their discipline was equally severe with that of the 
 order in ancient times. Their diet was confined to 
 vegetables, and of these they partook sparingly but 
 once in twenty-four hours : the stern vow of per- 
 petual silence was upon them ; no female was per- 
 mitted to violate their retreat, and they dug their 
 own graves. Their location, however, they found 
 by no means favourable to health, notwithstanding 
 the severe simplicity of their habits. During the 
 summer months fevers prevailed among them to an 
 alarming extent; few escaped, and many died. 
 Among the latter was Louis Antoine Langlois, a na- 
 tive of Quebec, more familiarly known as Francois
 
 THE FAR WEST. 171 
 
 Marie Bernard, the name he assumed upon entering 
 the monastery. He often officiated in the former. 
 Catholic church of St. Louis, and is still remem- 
 bered by the older French inhabitants with warm 
 emotions, as he was greatly beloved. 
 
 The Trappists are said to have been extremely 
 industrious, and some of them skilful workmen at 
 various arts, particularly that of watchmaking ; in- 
 somuch that they far excelled the same craft in 
 the city, and were patronised by all the unruly 
 timepieces in the region. They had also a labora- 
 tory of some extent, and a library ; but the latter, 
 we are informed, was of no marvellous repute, em- 
 bracing chiefly the day-dreams of the Middle Ages, 
 and the wondrous doings of the legion of saints, 
 together with a few obsolete works on medicine. 
 Connected with the monastery was a seminary for 
 the instruction of boys; or, rather, it was a sort of 
 asylum for the orphan, the desolate, the friendless, 
 the halt, the blind, the deaf, and the dumb, and also 
 for the aged and destitute of the male sex. They 
 subjected their pupils to the same severe discipline 
 which they imposed upon themselves. They were 
 permitted to use their tongues but two hours a day, 
 and then very judiciously: instead of exercising 
 that " unruly member," they were taught by the 
 good fathers to gesticulate with their fingers at each 
 other in marvellous fashion, and thus to communi- 
 cate their ideas. As to juvenile sports and the 
 frolics of boyhood, it was a sin to dream of such 
 things. They all received an apprenticeship to some 
 useful trade, however, and were no doubt trained
 
 172 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 up most innocently and ignorantly in the way they 
 should go. The pupils were chiefly sons of the 
 settlers in the vicinity; but whether they were fash- 
 ioned by the worthy fathers into good American 
 citizens or the contrary, tradition telleth not. Tra- 
 dition doth present, however, sundry allegations 
 prejudicial to the honest monks, which we are bold 
 to say is all slander, and unworthy of credence. 
 Some old gossips of the day hesitated not to affirm 
 that the monks were x marvellously filthy in their 
 habits ; others, that they were prodigiously keen in 
 their bargains ; a third class, that the younger mem- 
 bers were not so obdurate towards the gentler part 
 of creation as they might have been; while the 
 whole community round about, una voce, chimed 
 in, and solemnly declared that men who neither 
 might, could, would, or should speak, were a little 
 worse than dumb brutes, and ought to be treated 
 accordingly. However this may have been, it is 
 pretty certain, as is usually the case with our dear 
 fellow-creatures where they are permitted to know 
 nothing at all about a particular matter, the good 
 people, in the overflowings of worldly charity, im- 
 agined all manner of evil against the poor Trappist* 
 and seemed to think they had a perfect right to 
 violate his property and insult his person when- 
 ever they, in their wisdom and kind feeling, thought 
 proper to do so. But this was soon at an end. In 
 1813 the monks disposed of their personal property, 
 and leaving fever and ague to their persecutors, and 
 the old mounds to their primitive solitude, forsook 
 the country and sailed for France.
 
 THE PAR WEST. 173 
 
 Though it is not easy to palliate the unceremoni- 
 ous welcome with which the unfortunate Trappist 
 was favoured at the hand of our people, yet we can 
 readily appreciate the feelings which prompted their 
 ungenerous conduct. How strange, hoV exceed- 
 ingly strange must it have seemed to behold these 
 men, in the garb and guise of a distant land, uttering, 
 when their lips broke the silence in which they were 
 locked, the unknown syllables of a foreign tongue ; 
 professing an austere, an ancient, and remarkable 
 faith; denying themselves, with the sternest severity, 
 the simplest of Nature's bounties ; how strange must 
 it have seemed to behold these men establishing 
 themselves in the depths of this Western wilderness, 
 and, by a fortuitous concurrence of events, planting 
 their altars and hearths upon the very tombs of a 
 race whose fate is veiled in mystery, and practising 
 their austerities at the forsaken temple of a forgotten 
 worship ! How strange to behold the devotees of 
 a faith, the most artificial in its ceremonies among 
 men, bowing themselves upon the high places reared 
 up by the hands of those who worshipped the Great 
 Spirit after the simplest form of Nature's adoration ! 
 For centuries this singular order of men had fig- 
 ured upon the iron page of history ; their legends 
 had shadowed with mystery the bright leaf of po- 
 etry and romance, and with them were associated 
 many a wild vision of fancy. And here they were, 
 mysterious as ever, with cowl, and crucifix, and 
 shaven head, and the hairy " crown of thorns" encir- 
 cling; ecclesiastics the most severe of all the 
 orders of monachism. How strange must it all 
 'P2
 
 174 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 have seemed ! and it is hardly to be wondered at, 
 unpopular as such institutions undoubtedly were 
 and ever have been in this blessed land of ours, that 
 a feeling of intolerance, and suspicion, and prejudice 
 should have existed. It is not a maxim of recent 
 date in the minds of men, that " whatever is peculiar 
 is false." 
 Madison County, EL 
 
 XVL 
 
 " Let none our author rudely blaiue, 
 
 Who from the story has thus long digressM." 
 
 DAVENANT. 
 
 " Nay, tell me not of lordly halls ! 
 
 My minstrels are the trees ; 
 The moss and the rock are my tapestried walls, 
 Earth sounds my symphonies." 
 
 BLACKWOOD'S Mag. 
 
 " Sorrow is knowledge ; they who know the most 
 Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth ; 
 The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life." 
 
 MANFRED. 
 
 THERE are few lovelier villages in the Valley of 
 the West than the little town of Edwardsville, in 
 whose quiet inn many of the preceding observa- 
 tions have been sketched. It was early one bright 
 morning that I entered Edwardsville, after passing 
 a sleepless night at a neighbouring farmhouse. 
 The situation of the village is a narrow ridge of
 
 THE FAR WEST. 175 
 
 land swelling abruptly from the midst of deep and 
 tangled woods. Along this elevation extends the 
 principal street of the place, more than a mile in 
 length, and upon either side runs a range of neat ed- 
 ifices, most of them shaded by forest-trees in their 
 front yards. The public buildings are a courthouse 
 and jail of brick, neither of them worthy of farther 
 mention, and two plain, towerless churches, imbo- 
 somed in a grove somewhat in the suburbs of the 
 village. There is something singularly picturesque 
 in the situation of these churches, and the struc- 
 tures themselves are not devoid of beauty and sym- 
 metrical proportion. At this place, also, is located 
 the land-office for the district. On the morning of 
 my arrival at the village, early as was the hour, the 
 place was thronged with disappointed applicants 
 for land ; a lean and hungry-looking race, by-the- 
 by, as it has ever been my lot to look upon. Un- 
 fortunately, the office had the evening before, from 
 some cause, been closed, and the unhappy specula- 
 tors were forced to trudge away many a weary mile, 
 through dust and sun, with their heavy specie dol- 
 lars, to their homes again. I remember once to 
 have been in the city of Bangor, " away down East, 
 in the State of Maine," when the public lands on 
 the Penobscot River were first placed in the market. 
 The land mania had for some months been running 
 high, but could hardly be said yet to have reached 
 a crisis. From all quarters of the Union speculators 
 had been hurrying to the place ; and day and night, 
 for the week past, the steamers had been disgorging 
 upon the city their ravenous freights. The impor-
 
 176 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 tant day arrived. At an early hour every hotel, 
 and street, and avenue was swarming with stran- 
 gers; and, mingling with the current of living 
 bodies, which now set steadily onward to the place 
 of sale, I was carried resistlessly on by its force 
 till it ceased. A confused murmur of voices ran 
 through the assembled thousands; and amid the 
 tumult, the ominous words ** land lumber title- 
 deed" and the like, could alone be distinguished. 
 At length, near noon, the clear tones of the auction- 
 eer were heard rising above the hum of the multi- 
 tude : all was instantly hushed and still ; and gain- 
 ing an elevated site, before me was spread out a 
 scene worthy a Hogarth's genius and pencil. Such 
 a mass of working, agitated features, glaring with 
 the fierce passion of avarice and the basest pro- 
 pensities of humanity, one seldom is fated to wit- 
 ness. During that public land-sale, indeed, I beheld 
 so much of the selfishness, the petty meanness, the 
 detestable heartlessness of man's nature, that I turned 
 away disgusted, sick at heart for the race of which 
 I was a member. We are reproached as a nation 
 by Europeans for the contemptible vice of avarice; 
 is the censure unjust? Parson Taylor tell us that 
 Satan was the first speculator in land ; for on a 
 certain occasion he took Jesus up into an exceed- 
 ingly high mountain, and showed him all the king- 
 doms of the earth, and the glory thereof, and said 
 to him, " All these things will I give to thee if thou 
 wilt fall down and worship me," when, in fact, the 
 devil did not own one inch of land to give ! 
 
 11 Think of the devil's brazen phiz, 
 When not an inch of laid was his !"
 
 THE FAR WEST. 177 
 
 Yet it is to be apprehended that not a few in our 
 midst would not hesitate to barter soul and body, 
 and fall down in worship, were a sufficient number 
 of acres spread out before them as the recompense. 
 Among other objects worthy the traveller's notice 
 in passing through Edwardsville is a press for the 
 manufacture of that well-known, agreeable liquid, 
 castor oil : it is situated within the precincts of what 
 is termed, for distinction, the " Upper Village." The 
 apparatus, by means of which the oil. is expressed 
 from the bean and clarified, is extremely simple, 
 consisting merely of the ordinary jack-screw. One 
 bushel of the castor beans palma Christi yields 
 nearly two gallons of the liquid. The only previous 
 preparation to pressing is to dry the beans in an 
 oven. This establishment* has been in operation 
 upward of ten years, and has rendered its proprie- 
 tor, Mr. Adams, a wealthy man. He has a delight- 
 ful villa, with grounds laid out with taste ; and 
 though many years have passed away since he left 
 his native New-England, yet the generosity of his 
 heart and the benevolence of his character tell truly 
 that he has not yet ceased the remembrance of early 
 principles and habits. The village of Edwardsville 
 and its vicinity are said to be remarkably healthy ; 
 and the location in the heart of a fertile, well-wa- 
 tered, heavily-timbered section of country, tilled by 
 a race of enterprising yeomanry, gives promise of 
 rapid advancement. The town plat was first laid 
 off in 1815 ; but the place advanced but little in im- 
 portance until five years afterward, when a new 
 * In May, 1838, it was entirely consumed by fire,
 
 178 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 town was united to the old. About twelve miles 
 southeast from Edwardsville is situated the delight- 
 ful little hamlet of Collinsville, named from its 
 founder, to which I paid a hasty visit during my 
 ramble on the prairies. It was settled many years 
 ago, but till very recently had not assumed the dig- 
 nity of a town. Its site is the broad, uniform sur- 
 face of an elevated ridge, ascending gently from the 
 American Bottom, beautifully shaded by forest-trees, 
 and extending into the interior for several miles. It 
 is almost entirely settled by northern emigrants, 
 whose peculiarities are nowhere more strikingly 
 exhibited. Much attention is bestowed upon reli- 
 gion and education ; not a grocery exists in the 
 place, nor, by the charter of the town, can one be 
 established for several years. This little village 
 presents a delightful summer-retreat to the citizens 
 of St. Louis, only ten miles distant. 
 
 The sun had not yet risen when I left Edwards- 
 ville, after a pleasant visit, and, descending into the 
 Bottom, pursued my route over the plain to Alton.,. 
 The face of the country, for a portion of the way, is 
 broken, and covered with forests of noble trees, until 
 the traveller finds himself on the deep sand-plains, 
 stretching away for some miles, and giving support 
 to a stunted, scragged growth of shrub-oaks. The 
 region bears palpable evidence of having been, 
 at no distant period, submerged ; and the idea is 
 confirmed by the existence, at the present time, of a 
 lake of considerable extent on the southern border, 
 which, from the character of the surface, a slight ad- 
 dition of water would spread for miles. I shall not
 
 THE PAR WEST. 179 
 
 soon forget, I think, the day I entered Alton for the 
 second time during my ramble in the West. It was 
 near the noon after an exceedingly sultry morning; 
 and the earth beneath my horse's hoofs was reduced 
 by protracted drought to an impalpable powder to 
 the depth of several inches. The blazing sunbeams, 
 veiled by not a solitary cloud, reflected from the 
 glassy surface of the Mississippi as from the face 
 of an immense steely mirror, and again thrown back 
 by the range of beetling bluffs above, seemed con- 
 verged into an intense burning focus along the 
 scorched-up streets and glowing roofs of the village. 
 I have endured heat, but none more intolerable in 
 the course of my life than that of which I speak. 
 
 In the evening, when the sultriness of the day 
 was over, passing through the principal street of the 
 town, I ascended that singular range of bluffs which, 
 commencing at this point, extend along the river, 
 and to which, on a former occasion, I have briefly 
 alluded. The ascent is arduous, but the glorious 
 view from the summit richly repays the visiter for 
 his toil. The withering atmosphere of the de- 
 pressed, sunburnt village at my feet was delight- 
 fully exchanged for the invigorating breezes of the 
 hills, as the fresh evening wind came wandering 
 up from the waters. It was the sunset hour. The 
 golden, slanting beams of departing day were re- 
 flected from the undulating bosom of the river, as 
 its bright waters stretched away among the western 
 forests, as if from a sea of molten, gliding silver. On 
 the left, directly at your feet, reposes the village of 
 Alton, overhung by hills, with the gloomy, castellated
 
 180 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 walls of the Penitentiary lifting up their dusky out- 
 line upon its skirts, presenting to the eye a perfect 
 panorama as you look down upon the tortuous 
 -streets, the extensive warehouses of stone, and the 
 range of steamers, alive with bustle, along the land- 
 ing. Beyond the village extends a deep forest ; 
 while a little to the south sweep off the waters of the 
 river, bespangled with green islands, until, grace- 
 fully expanding itself, a noble bend withdraws it 
 from the view. It is at this point that the Missouri 
 disgorges its turbid, heavy mass of waters into the 
 clear floods of the Upper Mississippi, hitherto un- 
 checkered by a stain. At the base of the bluffs, 
 upon which you stand, at an elevation of a hundred 
 and fifty feet, rushes with violence along the crags 
 the current of the stream ; while beyond, upon the 
 opposite plain, is beheld the log hut of the emigrant 
 couched beneath the enormous sycamores, and send- 
 ing up its undulating thread of blue, curling smoke 
 through the lofty branches. A lumber steam-mill 
 is also here to be seen. Beyond these objects the 
 eye wanders over an interminable carpet of forest- 
 tops, stretching away till they form a wavy line of 
 dense foliage circling the western horizon. By the 
 aid of a glass, a range of hills, blue in the distance, 
 is perceived outlined against the sky : they are the 
 bluffs skirting the beautiful valley of the Missouri. 
 The heights from which this view is commanded 
 are composed principally of earth heaped upon a 
 massive ledge of limerock, which elevates itself 
 from the very bed of the waters. As the spectator 
 gazes and reflects, he cannot but be amazed that the
 
 THE PAR WEST. 181 
 
 rains, and snows, and torrents of centuries have not, 
 with all their washings, yet swept these earth-heaps 
 away, though the deep ravines between the mounds, 
 which probably originated their present peculiar 
 form, give proof conclusive that such diluvial action 
 to some extent has long been going on. As is usu- 
 ally found to be the case, the present race of Indians 
 have availed themselves of these elevated summits 
 for the burial-spots of their chiefs. I myself scraped 
 up a few decaying fragments of bones, which lay 
 just beneath the surface. 
 
 At sunrise of the morning succeeding my visit 
 to the bluffs I was in the saddle, and clambering 
 up those intolerably steep hills on the road leading 
 to the village of Upper Alton, a few miles distant 
 The place is well situated upon an elevated prai- 
 rie ; and, to my own taste, is preferable far for pri- 
 vate residence to any spot within the precincts of 
 its rival namesake. The society is polished, and a 
 fine-toned morality is said to characterize the in- 
 habitants. The town was originally incorporated 
 many years ago, and was then a place of more 
 note than it has ever since been ; but, owing to in- 
 testine broils and conflicting claims to its site, it 
 gradually and steadily dwindled away, until, a 
 dozen years since, it numbered only seven families. 
 A suit in chancery has happily settled these diffi- 
 culties, and the village is now thriving well. A 
 seminary of some note, under jurisdiction of the 
 Baptist persuasion, has within a few years been 
 established here, and now comprises a very re- 
 spectable body of students. It originated in a sem- 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 182 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 inary formerly established at Rock Spring in this 
 state. About five years since a company of gen- 
 tlemen, seven in number, purchased here a tract of 
 several hundred acres, and erected upon it an ac- 
 ademical edifice of brick ; subsequently a stone 
 building was erected, and a preparatory school in- 
 stituted. In the year 1835, funds to a considerable 
 amount were obtained at the East ; and a donation 
 of $10,000 from Dr. Benjamin Shurtliff, of Boston, 
 induced the trustees to give to the institution his 
 name. Half of this sum is appropriated to a col- 
 lege building, and the other half is to endow a pro- 
 fessorship of belles lettres. The present build- 
 ings are situated upon a broad plain, beneath a wal- 
 nut grove, on the eastern skirt of the village ; and 
 the library, apparatus, and professorships are wor- 
 thy to form the foundation of a college, as is the 
 ultimate design, albeit a Western college and a 
 Northern college are terms quite different in signi- 
 fication. I visited this seminary, however, and 
 was much pleased with its faculty, buildings, and 
 design. All is as it should be. What reflecting 
 mind does not hail with joy these temples of science 
 elevating themselves upon every green hill and 
 broad plain of the West, side by side with the 
 sanctuaries of our holy religion ! It is intelligence, 
 baptized intelligence, which alone can save this 
 beautiful valley, if indeed it is to be saved from 
 the inroads of arbitrary rule and false religion ; 
 which is to hand down to another generation our 
 civil and religious immunities unimpaired. In most 
 of the efforts for the advancement of education in
 
 THE FAR WEST. 183 
 
 the West, it is gratifying to perceive that this prin- 
 ciple has not been overlooked. Nearly all those 
 seminaries of learning which have been established 
 profess for their design the culture of the moral 
 powers as well as those of the intellect. That in- 
 telligence is an essential requisite, a prime con- 
 stituent of civil and religious freedom, all will ad- 
 mit ; that it is the only requisite, the sole constitu- 
 ent, may be questioned. " Knowledge," in the 
 celebrated language of Francis Bacon, " is pow- 
 er ;" ay ! POWER ; an engine of tremendous, incal- 
 culable - nergy, but blind in its operations. Ap- 
 plied to the cause of wisdom and virtue, the rich- 
 est of blessings ; to that of infidelity and vice, the 
 greatest of curses. A lever to move the world, its 
 influence cannot be over-estimated ; as the bul- 
 wark of liberty and human happiness, its effect has 
 been fearfully miscalculated. Were man inclined 
 as fully to good as to evil, then might knowledge 
 become the sovereign panacea of every civil and 
 moral ill ; as man by nature unhappily is, " the 
 fruit of the tree" is oftener the stimulant to evil than 
 to good. Unfold the sacred record of the past 
 Why did not intelligence save Greece ? Greece ! 
 the land of intellect and of thought; the birthspot 
 of eloquence, philosophy, and song ! whose very 
 populace were critics and bards ! Greece, in her 
 early day of pastoral ignorance, was free ; but from 
 the loftiest pinnacle of intellectual glory she fell ; 
 and science, genius, intelligence, all could not save 
 her. The buoyant bark bounded beautifully over 
 the blue-breasted billows ; but the helm, the helm of
 
 184 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 moral culture was not there, and her broad-spread 
 pinions hurried her away only to a speedier and 
 more terrible destruction. 
 
 Ancient Rome: in the day of her rough simpli- 
 city, she was free ; but from her proudest point of 
 intellectual development the era of Augustus 
 we date her decline. 
 
 France : who will aver that it was popular ig- 
 norance that rolled over revolutionary France the 
 ocean-wave of blood ? When have the French, as 
 a people, exhibited a prouder era of mind than that 
 of their sixteenth Louis? The encyclopedists, 
 the most powerful men of the age, concentrated 
 all their vast energies to the diffusion of science 
 among the people. Then, as now, the press 
 groaned in constant parturition ; and essays, mag- 
 azines, tracts, treatises, libraries, were thrown 
 abroad as if by the arm of Omnipotent power. 
 Then, as now, the supremacy of human reason 
 and of human society flitted in " unreal mockery" 
 before the intoxicated fancy j and wildly was an- 
 ticipated a career of upward and onward advance- 
 ment during the days of all coming time. France 
 was a nation of philosophers, and the great deep 
 of mind began to heave; the convulsed labouring 
 went on, and, from time to time, it burst out upon 
 the surface. Then carne the tornado, and France, 
 refined, intelligent, scientific, etherealized France, 
 was swept, as by Ruin's besom, of every green 
 thing. Her own children planted the dagger in 
 her bosom, and France was a nation of scientific^ 
 philosophic parricides 1 But " France was pois-
 
 THE FAR WEST, 185 
 
 oned by infidelity." Yes ! so she was: but why 
 was not the subtle element neutralized in the cup 
 of knowledge in which it was administered? Is 
 not " knowledge omnipotent to preserve ; the salt 
 to purify the nations ?" 
 
 England: view the experiment there. It is a 
 matter of parliamentary record, that within the last 
 twenty years, during the philanthropic efforts of 
 Lord Henry Brougham and his whig coadjutors, 
 crime in England has more than tripled. If knowl- 
 edge, pure, defecated knowledge, be a conserva- 
 tive principle, why do we witness these appalling 
 results ? 
 
 What, then, shall be done ? Shall the book of 
 knowledge be taken from the hands of the peo- 
 ple, and again be locked up in the libraries of the 
 few ? Shall the dusky pall of ignorance and super- 
 stition again be flung around the world, and a long 
 starless midnight of a thousand years once more 
 come down to brood over mankind ? By no means. 
 Let the sweet streams of knowledge go forth, co- 
 pious, free, to enrich and irrigate the garden of 
 mind ; but mingle with them the pure waters of 
 that " fount which flows fast by the oracles of God," 
 or the effect now will be, as it ever has been, only 
 to intoxicate and madden the human race. There 
 is nothing in cold, dephlegmated intellect to warm 
 up and foster the energies of the moral system of 
 man. Intellect, mere intellect, can never tame the 
 passions or purify the heart. 
 
 Upper Alton, III. 
 
 Q2
 
 186 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 XVII. 
 
 '* The fourth day roll'd along, and with the night 
 Came storm and darkness in their mingling might. 
 Loud sung the wind above ; and doubly loud 
 Shook o'er his turret-cell the thunder-cloud." 
 
 The C&rsair- 
 
 " These 
 
 The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, 
 For which the speech of England has no name 
 The prairies." 
 
 BRYANT. 
 
 WHOEVER will take upon himself the trouble to 
 run his eye over the " Tourist's Pocket Map of Il- 
 linois," will perceive, stretching along the western 
 border of the state, parallel with the river, a broad 
 carriage highway, in a direction nearly north, to a 
 little village called Carlinville ; if then he glances 
 to the east, he may trace a narrow pathway stri- 
 king off at right angles to that section of the state. 
 Well, it is here, upon this pathway, just on the 
 margin of a beautiful prairie, sweeping away to- 
 wards the town of Hillsborough,that I find myself 
 at the close of the day, after a long and fatiguing 
 ride. The afternoon has been one of those drea- 
 ry, drizzly, disagreeable seasons which relax the 
 nerves and ride like an incubus upon the spirits ; 
 and my route has conducted me over a broad- 
 spread, desolate plain ; for, lovely as may appear the 
 prairie when its bright flowerets and its tall grass-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 187 
 
 tops are nodding in the sunlight, it is a melancholy 
 place when the sky is beclouded and the rain is 
 falling. There is a certain indescribable sensation 
 of loneliness, which steals over the mind of the sol- 
 itary traveller when he finds himself alone in the 
 heart of these boundless plains, which he cannot 
 away with ; and the approach to a forest is hailed 
 with pleasure, as serving to quiet, with the vague 
 idea of society, this sense of dreariness and deser- 
 tion. Especially is this the case when rack and 
 mist are hovering along the border, veiling from 
 the view those picturesque woodland-points and 
 promontories, and those green island-groves which, 
 when the sky is clear, swell out upon every side 
 into the bosom of the plain. Then all is fresh and 
 joyous to the eye as a vision: change the scene, 
 and the grand, gloomy, misty magnificence of old 
 ocean presents itself on every side. The relief to 
 the picture afforded by the discovery of man's 
 habitation can hardly be described. 
 
 It was near nightfall when, wearied by the fatigue 
 of riding and drenched with mist, I reached the 
 log-cabin of an old pioneer from Virginia, beneath 
 whose lowly roof-tree I am seated at this present 
 writing ; and though hardly the most sumptuous 
 edifice of which it has been my lot to be an inmate, 
 yet with no unenviable anticipations am I looking 
 forward to hearty refreshment and to sound slumber 
 upon the couch by my side. There are few ob- 
 jects to be met with in the backwoods of the West 
 more unique and picturesque than the dwelling of 
 the emigrant. After selecting an elevated spot as
 
 188 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 a site for building, a cabin or a log-house which is 
 somewhat of an improvement upon the first is 
 erected in the following manner. A sufficient 
 number of straight trees, of a size convenient for 
 removing, are felled, slightly hewn upon the oppo- 
 site sides, and the extremities notched or mortised 
 with the axe. They are then piled upon each 
 other so that the extremities lock together ; and a 
 single or double edifice is constructed, agreeable 
 to the taste or ability of the builder. Ordinarily 
 the cabin consists of two quadrangular apartments, 
 separated by a broad area between, connected by 
 a common floor, and covered by a common roof, 
 presenting a parallelogram triple the length of its 
 width. The better of these apartments is usually 
 appropriated to the entertainment of the casual 
 guest, and is furnished with several beds and some 
 articles of rude furniture to correspond. The open 
 area constitutes the ordinary sitting and eating 
 apartment of the family in fine weather ; and, from 
 its coolness, affords a delightful retreat. The in- 
 tervals between the logs are stuffed with fragments 
 of wood or stone, and plastered with mud or mor- 
 tar, and the chimney is constructed much in the 
 same manner. The roof is covered with thin clap- 
 boards of oak or ash, and, in lieu of nails, trans- 
 verse pieces of timber retain them in their places. 
 Thousands of cabins are thus constructed, with- 
 out a particle of iron or even a common plank. 
 The rough clapboards give to the roof almost the 
 shaggy aspect of thatch at a little distance, but they 
 render it impermeable to even the heaviest and
 
 FAR WEST. 189 
 
 most protracted rain-storms. A rude gallery often 
 extends along one or both sides of the building, add- 
 ing much to its coolness in summer and to its warmth 
 in winter by the protection afforded from sun and 
 snow. The floor is constructed of short, thick 
 planks, technically termed " puncheons," which are 
 confined by wooden pins ; and, though hardly 
 smooth enough for a ballroom, yet well answer 
 every purpose for a dwelling, and effectually resist 
 moisture and cold. The apertures are usually cut 
 with a view to free ventilation, and the chimneys 
 stand at the extremities outside the walls of the 
 cabin. A few pounds of nails, a few boxes of glass, 
 a few hundred feet of lumber, and a few day's assist- 
 ance of a house-carpenter, would, of course, contrib- 
 ute not a little to the comfort of the shieling ; but 
 neither of these are indispensable. In rear of the 
 premises rise the out-buildings; stables, corn-crib, 
 meat-house, &c., all of them quite as perfect in 
 structure as the dwelling itself, and quite as com- 
 fortable for residence. If to all this we add a well, 
 walled up with a section of a hollow cotton-wood, a 
 cellar or cave in the earth for a pantry, a zigzag 
 rail fence enclosing the whole clearing, a dozen 
 acres of Indian corn bristling up beyond, a small 
 garden and orchard, and a host of swine, cattle, 
 poultry, and naked children about the door, and 
 the tout ensemble of a backwoods farmhouse is com- 
 plete. Minor circumstances vary, of course, with 
 the peculiarities of the country and the origin of the 
 gettlers; but the principal features of the picture 
 everywhere prevail. The present mode of eulti-
 
 190 THE FA.R WEST. 
 
 vation sweeps off vast quantities of timber; but it 
 must soon be superseded. Houses of brick and 
 stone will take the place of log-cabins ; hedgerows 
 will supply that of rail enclosures, while coal for 
 fuel will be a substitute for wood. 
 
 At Upper Alton my visit was not a protracted 
 one. In a few hours, having gathered up myfccens 
 and mounted my creelur, I was threading a narrow 
 pathway through the forest. The trees, most of 
 them lofty elms, in many places for miles locked 
 together their giant branches over the road, form- 
 ing a delightful screen from the sunbeams; but it 
 was found by no means the easiest imaginable 
 task, after once entering upon the direct route, to 
 continue upon it. This is a peculiarity of West- 
 ern roads. The commencement may be uniform 
 enough, but the traveller soon finds his path di- 
 verging all at once in several different direc- 
 tions, like the radii of a circle, with no assignable 
 cause therefor, and not the slightest reason pre- 
 senting itself why he should select one of them in 
 preference to half a dozen others, equally good or 
 bad. And the sequel often shows him that there 
 in reality existed no more cause of preference than 
 was apparent ; for, after a few tortuosities through 
 the forest, for variety's sake, the paths all terminate 
 in the same route. The obstacle of a tree, a stump, 
 a decaying log, or a sand-bank often splits the 
 path as if it were a flowing stream ; and then the 
 traveller takes upon him to exercise the reserved 
 right of radiating to any point of the compass ho 

 
 THE FAR WEST. 191 
 
 may think proper, provided always that he suc- 
 ceeds in clearing the obstruction. 
 
 Passing many log-cabins, such as I have de- 
 scribed, with their extensive maize-fields, the rude 
 dwelling of a sturdy old emigrant from the far East 
 sheltered me during the heat of noon; and having 
 luxuriated upon an excellent dinner, prepared and 
 served up in right New-England fashion, I again 
 betook myself to my solitary route. But I little 
 anticipated to have met, in the distant prairies of 
 Illinois, the habitation of one who had passed his life 
 in my own native state, almost in my own native 
 village. Yet 1 know not why the occurrence 
 should be a cause of surprise. Such emigrations 
 are of constant occurrence. The farmer had been 
 a resident eight years in the West ; his farm was 
 under that high cultivation characteristic of the 
 Northern emigrant, and peace and plenty seemed 
 smiling around. Yet was the emigrant satisfied ? 
 So far from it, he acknowledged himself a disap- 
 pointed man, and sighed for his native northern 
 home, with its bleak winds and barren hill-sides. 
 
 The region through which, for most of the day, 
 I journeyed was that, of very extensive application 
 in the West, styled " Barrens," by no means im- 
 plying unproductiveness of soil, but a species of 
 surface of heterogeneous character, uniting prairie 
 with timber or forest, and usually a description of 
 land as fertile, healthy, and well-watered as may 
 be found. The misnomer is said to have derived 
 its origin from the eixrly settlers of that section of 
 Kentucky south of Green River, which, presenting
 
 192 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 only a scanty, dwarfish growth of timber, was 
 deemed of necessity barren, in the true acceptation 
 of the term. This soil there and elsewhere is now 
 considered better adapted to every variety of pro- 
 duce and the vicissitudes of climate than even the 
 deep mould of the prairies and river-bottoms. The 
 rapidity with which a young forest springs forward, 
 when the annual fires have once been stopped in 
 this species of land, is said to be astonishing ; and 
 the first appearance of timber upon the prairies 
 gives it the character, to some extent, of barrens. 
 Beneath the trees is spread out a mossy turf, free 
 from thickets, but variegated by the gaudy petals 
 of the heliotrope, and the bright crimson buds of 
 the dwarf-sumach in the hollows. Indeed, some 
 of the most lovely scenery of the West is beheld 
 in the landscapes of these barrens or " oak open- 
 ings," as they are more appropriately styled. For 
 miles the traveller wanders on, through a magnifi- 
 cence of park scenery on every side, with all the 
 diversity of the slope, and swell, and meadow 
 of human taste and skill. Interminable avenues 
 stretch away farther than the eye can reach, while 
 at intervals through the foliage flashes out the un- 
 ruffled surface of a pellucid lake. There are many 
 of these circular lakes or ' sinkholes," as they are 
 termed in Western dialect, which, as they possess 
 no inlet, seem supplied by subterraneous springs 
 or from the clouds. The outline is that of an in- 
 verted cone, as if formed by the action of whirling 
 waters ; and, as sinkholes exist in great numbers 
 in the vicinity of the rivers, and possess an outlet
 
 THE FAR WEST. 193 
 
 at the bottom through a substratum of porous lime- 
 stone, the idea is abundantly confirmed. In the 
 State of Missouri these peculiar springs are also ob- 
 served. Some of them in Greene county burst forth 
 from the earth and the fissures of the rocks with 
 sufficient force to whirl a run of heavy buhrstones, 
 and the power of the fountains seems unaffected by 
 the vicissitudes of rain or drought. These same sink- 
 holes, circular ponds, and gushing springs are said 
 to constitute one of the most remarkable and inter- 
 esting features of the peninsula of Florida. There, 
 as here, the substratum is porous limestone ; and it 
 is the subsidence of the layers which gives birth 
 to the springs. The volume of water thrown up 
 by these boiling fountains is said to be astonishingly 
 great ; many large ones, also, are known to exist 
 in the beds of lakes and rivers. From the circum- 
 stance of the existence of these numerous springs 
 originated, doubtless, the tradition which Spanish 
 chroniclers aver to have existed among the Indians 
 of Porto Rico and Cuba, that somewhere among 
 the Lucayo Islands or in the interior of Florida 
 there existed a fountain whose waters had the 
 property of imparting rejuvenescence and perpetua- 
 ting perennial youth. Only twenty years after the 
 discoveries of Columbus, and more than three cen- 
 turies since, did the romantic Juan Ponce de Leon, 
 an associate of the Genoese and subsequent govern- 
 or of Porto Rico, explore the peninsula of Florida 
 in search of this traditionary fountain; of the 
 success of the enterprise we have no account. 
 Among the other poetic founts of the "Land of 
 VOL. I. R
 
 194 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Flowers," we are told of one, situated but a few 
 miles from Fort Gaines, called "Sappho's Fount," 
 from the idea which prevails that its waters impart 
 the power of producing sweet sounds to the voices 
 of those who partake of them. 
 
 It was near evening, when, emerging from the 
 shades of the barrens, which, like everything else, 
 however beautiful, had, by continuous succession, 
 begun to become somewhat monotonous, my path 
 issued rather unexpectedly upon the margin of a 
 wide, undulating prairie. I was struck, as is every 
 traveller at first view of these vast plains, with the 
 grandeur, and novelty, and loveliness of the scene 
 before me. For some moments I remained station- 
 ary, looking out upon the boundless landscape be- 
 fore me. The tall grass-tops waving in billowy 
 beauty in the breeze ; the narrow pathway wind- 
 ing off like a serpent over the rolling surface, dis- 
 appearing and reappearing till lost in the luxuriant 
 herbage ; the shadowy, cloud-like aspect of the far- 
 off trees, looming up, here and there, in isolated 
 masses along the horizon, like the pyramidal can- 
 vass of ships at sea ; the deep-green groves be- 
 sprinkled among the vegetation, like islets in the 
 waters ; the crimson-died prairie-flower flashing 
 in the sun these features of inanimate nature 
 seemed strangely beautiful to one born and bred 
 amid the bold mountain scenery of the North, and 
 who now gazed upon them * for the first." 
 
 " The prairies ! I behold them for the first, 
 And my heart swells, while the dilated sight 
 Takes in the encircling vastness."
 
 THE FAR WEST. 195 
 
 As I rode leisurely along upon the prairie's edge, 
 I passed many noble farms, with their log-cabins 
 couched in a corner beneath the forest ; and, verily, 
 would a farmer of Yankee-land "stare and gasp" to 
 behold the prairie cornfield of the Western emi- 
 grant ; and yet more would he be amazed to wit- 
 ness the rank, rustling luxuriance of the vegetable 
 itself. Descending a swell of the prairie near one 
 of these farms, a buck with his doe leaped out from a 
 thicket beside my path, and away, away bounded 
 the " happy pair" over the grass-tops, free as the 
 wind. They are often shot upon the prairies, I 
 was informed by an old hunter, at whose cabin, in 
 the middle of the plain, I drew up at twilight, and 
 with whom I passed the night. He was a pioneer 
 from the dark and bloody ground, and many a time 
 had followed the wild buck through those aged 
 forests, where Boone, and Whitley, and Kenton 
 once roved. Only fifty years ago, and for the first 
 time were the beautiful fields of Kentucky turned 
 up by the ploughshare of the Virginia emigrant; 
 yet their very descendants of the first generation 
 we behold plunging deeper into the wilderness 
 West. How would the worthy old Governor Spots- 
 wood stand astounded, could he now rear his vener- 
 able bones from their long resting-place, and look 
 forth upon this lovely land, far away beyond the 
 Blue Ridge of the Alleghany hills, the very passage 
 of which he had deemed not unworthy " the horse- 
 shoe of gold" and " the order tramontane." " Sic 
 juvat transcendere monies." Twenty years before 
 Daniel Boone, " backwoodsman of Kentucky," was
 
 196 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 born, Alexander Spots wood, governor of Virginia, 
 undertook, with great preparation, a passage of the 
 Alleghany ridge. For this expedition were provi- 
 ded a large number of horseshoes, an article not 
 common in some sections of the " Old Dominion ;" 
 and from this circumstance, upon their return, 
 though without a glimpse of the Western Valley, 
 was instituted the " Tramontane Order, or Knights 
 of the Golden Horseshoe" with the motto above. 
 The badge of distinction for having made a passage 
 of the Blue Ridge was a golden horseshoe worn 
 upon the breast. Could the young man of that day 
 have protracted the limits of life but a few years 
 beyond his threescore and ten, what astonishment 
 would not have filled him to behold now, as "the 
 broad, the bright, the glorious West," the region 
 then regarded as the unknown and howling wilder- 
 ness beyond the mountains ! Yet even thus it is. 
 
 A long ride over a dusty road, beneath a sultry 
 sun, made me not unwilling to retire to an early 
 rest. But in a few hours my slumbers were broken 
 in upon by the glare of lightning and the crash of 
 thunder. For nearly five weeks had the prairies 
 been refreshed by not a solitary shower ; and the 
 withered crops and the parched soil, baked to the 
 consistency of stone or ground up to powder, be- 
 trayed alarming evidence of the consequence. Day 
 had succeeded day. The scorching sun had gone 
 up in the firmament, blazed from his meridian 
 throne, and in lurid sultriness descended to his rest. 
 The subtle fluid had been gathering and con- 
 centrating in the skies ; and, early on the night of
 
 THE FAR WEST. 197 
 
 which I speak, an inky cloud had been perceived 
 rolling slowly up from the western horizon, until 
 the whole heavens were enveloped in blackness. 
 Then the tempest burst forth. Peal upon peal the 
 hoarse thunder came booming over the prairies; 
 and the red lightning would glare, and stream, and 
 almost hiss along the midnight sky, like Ossian's 
 storm-spirit riding on the blast. At length there 
 was a hush of elements, and all was still "still as 
 the spirit's silence ;" then came one prolonged, deaf- 
 ening, terrible crash and rattle, as if the concave 
 of the firmament had been rent asunder, and the 
 splintered fragments, hurled abroad, were flying 
 through the boundlessness of space; the next mo- 
 ment, and the torrents came weltering through the 
 darkness. I have witnessed thunder-storms on the 
 deep, and many a one among the cliffs of my na- 
 tive hills ; but a midnight thunder-gust upon the 
 broad prairie-plains of the West is more terrible 
 than they. A more sublimely magnificent spec- 
 tacle have I never beheld than that, when one of 
 these broad-sheeted masses of purple light would 
 blaze along the black bosom of the cloud, quiver 
 for an instant over the prairie miles in extent, fling- 
 ing around the scene a garment of flame, and then 
 go out in darkness. 
 
 " Oh night, 
 
 And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
 Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
 Of a dark eye in woman !" 
 
 " Most glorious night ! 
 Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be 
 A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, 
 A portion of the tempeit and of thee !" 
 
 R2
 
 198 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 And a sharer in the tempest surely was 4< a cer- 
 tain weary pilgrim, in an upper chamber" of a cer- 
 tain log-cabin of the prairie. Unhappily for his 
 repose or quiet, had he desired either, the worthy 
 host, in laudable zeal for a window when erecting 
 his hut, had thought proper to neglect or to forget 
 one of the indispensables for such a convenience 
 in shape of sundry panes of glass. Wherefore, as 
 is easy to perceive, said aperture commanding 
 the right flank of the pilgrim's dormitory, the war- 
 ring elements without found abundant entrance 
 for a by-skirmish within. Sad to relate, the pil- 
 grim was routed, " horse, foot, and dragoons ;" 
 whereupon, agreeable to FalstafPs discretionary 
 views of valour, seizing upon personal effects, he 
 beat a retreat to more hospitable realms. 
 . Greene County, III.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 199 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " What earthly feeling unabash'd can dwell 
 In Nature's mighty presence 1 mid the swell 
 Of everlasting hills, the roar of floods, 
 And frown of rocks and pomp of waving woods 1 
 These their own grandeur on the soul impress, 
 And bid each passion feel its nothingness." 
 
 HEMANS. 
 
 " La grace est toujours unie a la magnificence, dans les scenes 
 de la nature." CHATEAUBRIAND'S "Atala." 
 
 IT was morning. The storm had passed away, 
 and the early sunlight was streaming gloriously 
 over the fresh landscape. The atmosphere, dis- 
 charged of its electric burden, was playing cool and 
 free among the grass-tops ; the lark was carolling 
 in the clouds above its grassy nest ; the deer was 
 rising from his sprinkled lair, and the morning 
 mists were rolling heavily in masses along the 
 skirts of the prairie woodlands, as I mounted my 
 horse at the door of the cabin beneath whose roof 
 I had passed the night. Before me at no great 
 distance, upon the edge of the plain, rose an open 
 park of lofty oaks, with a mossy turf beneath ; and 
 the whole scene, lighted up by the sunbeams break- 
 ing through the ragged mists, presented a most 
 gorgeous spectacle. The entire wilderness of 
 green ; every bough, spray, leaf; every blade of 
 grass, wild weed, and floweret,, was hung with trem-
 
 200 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 bling drops of liquid light, which, reflecting and 
 refracting the sun-rays, threw back all the hues of 
 the iris. It was indeed a morning of beauty after 
 the tempest ; and Nature seemed to have arrayed 
 herself in her bridal robes, glittering in all their 
 own matchless jewellery to greet its coming. 
 
 Constituted as we all naturally are, there exist, 
 bound up within the secresies of the bosom, certain 
 emotions and sentiments, designed by our Creator 
 to leap forth in joyousness in view of the magnifi- 
 cence of his works ; certain springs of exquisite 
 delicacy deep hidden in the chambers of the breast, 
 but which, touched or breathed upon never so 
 lightly, strike the keys of feeling and fill the heart 
 with harmony. And I envy not the feelings of 
 that man who, amid all " the glories of this visible 
 world," can stand a passionless beholder; who 
 feels not his pulses thrill with quickened vibration, 
 and his heart to heave in fuller gush as he views 
 the beneficence of his Maker in the magnificence 
 of his works; who from all can turn calmly away, 
 and in the chill, withering accents of Atheism, 
 pronounce it the offspring of blind fatality, the re- 
 sultant of meaningless chance ! 
 
 When we look abroad upon the panorama of 
 creation, so palpable is the impress of an omnipo- 
 tent hand, and so deeply upon all its features is 
 planted the demonstration of design, that it would 
 almost seem, in the absence of reason and revela- 
 tion, we need but contemplate the scenery of na<- 
 ture to be satisfied of the existence of an all-wise, 
 all-powerful Being, whose workmanship it is. The
 
 THE FAR WEST. 201 
 
 firmament, with its marshalled and glittering hosts ; 
 the earth, spread out in boundlessness at our feet, 
 now draperied in the verdant freshness of spring- 
 time, anon in the magnificent glories of summer 
 sultriness, again teeming with the mellow beauty 
 of autumnal harvesting, and then slumbering in the 
 chill, cheerless desolation of winter, all proclaim a 
 Deity eternal in existence, boundless in might. 
 The mountain that rears its bald forehead to the 
 clouds; the booming cataract; the unfathomed, 
 mysterious sounding ocean ; the magnificent sweep 
 of the Western prairie ; the eternal flow of the 
 Western river, proclaim, in tones extensive as the 
 universe tones not to be misunderstood, that their 
 CREATOR lives. 
 
 It is a circumstance in the character of the human 
 mind, which not the most careless or casual ob- 
 server of its operations can fail to have remarked, 
 that the contemplation of all grand and immeasu- 
 rable objects has a tendency to enlarge and elevate 
 the understanding, lend a loftier tone to the feel- 
 ings, and, agreeable to the moral constitution of 
 man, carry up his thoughts and his emotions direct- 
 ly to their Author, "from Nature up to Nature's 
 God." The savage son of the wilderness, as he 
 roams through his grand and gloomy forests, which 
 for centuries have veiled the soil at their base from 
 the sunlight, perceives a solemn awe stealing over 
 him as he listens to the surges of the winds rolling 
 among the heavy branches ; and in Nature's sim- 
 plicity, untaught but by her untutored promptings, 
 he believes that " the Great Spirit is whispering ia
 
 202 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the tree-tops." He stands by the side of Niagara. 
 With subdued emotions he gazes upon the majestic 
 world of floods as they hurry on. They reach the 
 barrier ! they leap its precipice ! they are lost in 
 thunder and in foam ! And, as the raging waters 
 disappear in the black abyss ; as* the bow of the 
 covenant, " like hope upon a deathbed," flings its 
 irised arch in horrible beauty athwart the hell of 
 elements, the bewildered child of nature feels his 
 soul swell within his bosom ; the thought rises sol- 
 emnly upon him, "the Great Spirit is here;" and 
 with timid solicitude he peers through the forest 
 shades around him for some palpaple demonstra- 
 tion of His presence. And such is the effect of all 
 the grand scenes of nature upon the mind of the sav- 
 age : they lead it up to the " Great Spirit." Upon 
 this principle is the fact alone to be accounted for, 
 that no race of beings has yet been discovered des- 
 titute of all idea of a Supreme Intelligence, to 
 whom is due homage and obedience. It is His 
 voice they hear in the deep hour of midnight, when 
 the red lightning quivers along the bosom of the 
 cloud, and the thunder-peal rattles through the fir- 
 mament. It is He they recognise in the bright orb 
 of day, as he blazes from the eastern horizon ; or, 
 " like a monarch on a funeral pile," sinks to his 
 rest. He is beheld in the pale queen of night, 
 as in silvery radiance she walks the firmament, and 
 in the beautiful star of evening as it sinks behind 
 his native hills. In the soft breathing of the " sum- 
 mer wind" and in the terrible sublimity of the au- 
 tumn tempest; in the gentle dew of heaven and
 
 THE FAR WEST. 203 
 
 the summer torrent ; in the sparkling rivulet and 
 the wide, wild river ; in the delicate prairie- flower 
 and the gnarled monarch of the hills ; in the glit- 
 tering minnow and the massive narwhal ; in the 
 fairy humbird and the sweeping eagle ; in each 
 and in all of the creations of universal nature, the 
 mind of the savage sees, feels, realizes the presence 
 of a Deity. 
 
 " Earth with her thousand voices praises God !" 
 
 is the beautiful sentiment of Coleridge's hymn in 
 the Vale of Chamouni ; and its truth will be doubted 
 by no man of refined sensibility or cultivated taste. 
 In viewing the grand scenery of nature, the mind 
 of the savage and the poet alike perceive the fea- 
 tures of Deity ; on the bright page of creation, in 
 characters enstamped by his own mighty handj 
 they read his perfections and his attributes ; the 
 vast volume is spread out to every eye ; he who 
 will may read and be wise. And yet, delightful 
 and instructive as the study of Nature's creations 
 cannot fail to be, it is a strange thing that, by many, 
 so little regard is betrayed for them. How often do 
 we gaze upon the orb of day, as he goes down the 
 western heavens in glory to his rest ; how often 
 do we look away to the far-off star, as it pursues 
 in beauty its lonely pathway, distinct amid the 
 myriads that surround it; how often do we glance 
 abroad upon the splendours of earth, and then, 
 from all this demonstration of Omnipotent goodness, 
 turn away with not one pulsation of gratitude to 
 the Creator of suns and stars ; with not one aspira- 
 tion of feeling, one acknowledgment of regard to
 
 04 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 the Lord of the universe ? Yet surely, whatever 
 repinings may at times imbitter the unsanctified bo- 
 som in view of the moral, the intellectual, or social 
 arrangements of existence, there should arise but 
 one emotion, and that praise in view of inanimate 
 nature. Here is naught but power and goodness ; 
 now, as at the dawn of Creation's morning, " all is 
 very good." But these are scenes upon which the 
 eye has turned from earliest infancy ; and to this 
 cause alone may we attribute the fact, that though 
 their grandeur may never weary or their glories 
 pall upon the sense, yet our gaze upon them is often 
 that of coldness and indifferent regard. Still their 
 influence upon us, though inappreciable, is sure. 
 If we look abroad upon the race of man, we cannot 
 but admit the conviction that natural scenery, hard- 
 ly less than climate, government, or religion, lays 
 its impress upon human character. It is where Na- 
 ture exhibits herself in her loftiest moods that her 
 influence on man is most observable. 'Tis there 
 we find the human mind most chainlessly free, 
 and the attachments of patriotic feeling most tena- 
 cious and exalted. To what influence more than 
 to that of the gigantic features of nature around 
 him, amid which he first opened his eyes to the 
 light, and with which from boyhood days he has 
 been conversant, are we to attribute that indomi- 
 table hate to oppression, that enthusiastic passion 
 for liberty, and that wild idolatry of country which 
 characterizes the Swiss mountaineer? He would 
 be free as the geyer-eagle of his native cliffs, whose 
 eyrie hangs in the clouds, whose eye brightens in
 
 THE FAR WEST. 205 
 
 the sunlight, whose wild shriek rises on the tem- 
 pest, and whose fierce brood is nurtured amid crags 
 untrodden by the footstep of man. To his ear the 
 sweep of the terrible lauwine, the dash of the 
 mountain cataract, the sullen roar of the mountain 
 forest, is a music for which, in a foreign land, he 
 pines away and dies. And all these scenes have 
 but one language and that is chainless independ- 
 ence I 
 
 It is a fact well established, and one to be ac- 
 counted for upon no principle other than that 
 which we advance, that the dwellers in mountain- 
 ous regions, and those whose homes are amid the 
 grandeur of nature, are found to be more attached 
 to the spot of their nativity than are other races of 
 men, and that they are ever more forward to defend 
 their ice-clad precipices from the attack of the in- 
 vader. For centuries have the Swiss inhabited 
 the mountains of the Alps. They inhabit them 
 still, and have never been entirely subdued. But 
 
 " The free Switzer yet bestrides alone 
 His chainless mountains." 
 
 Of what other nation of Europe, if we except 
 the Highlands of Scotland, may anything like the 
 same assertion with truth be made ? We are told 
 that the mountains of Caucasus and Himmalaya, in 
 Asia, still retain the race of people which from 
 time immemorial have possessed them. The same 
 accents echo along their " tuneful cliffs" as centuries 
 since were listened to by the patriarchs ; while at 
 their base, chance, and change, and conquest, like 
 successive floods, have swept the delta-plains of 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 206 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the Ganges and Euphrates. These are but iso- 
 lated instances from a multitude of similar char- 
 acter, which might be advanced in support of the 
 position we have assumed. Nor is it strange that 
 peculiarities like these should be witnessed. There 
 must ever be something to love, if the emotion 
 is to be permanently called forth ; it matters little 
 whether it be in the features of inanimate nature 
 or in those of man ; and, alike in both cases, do the 
 boldest and most prominent create the deepest im- 
 pression. Just so it is with our admiration of char- 
 acter; there must exist bold and distinctive traits, 
 good or bad, to arouse for it unusual regard. A 
 monotony of character or of feeling is as weari- 
 some as a monotony of sound or scenery. 
 
 But to return from a digression which has be- 
 come unconscionably long. After a brisk gallop 
 of a few hours through the delightful scenery of 
 the Barrens, I found myself approaching the little 
 town of Carlinville. As I drew nigh to the village, 
 I found it absolutely reeling under the excitement 
 of the " Grand Menagerie." From all points of the 
 compass, men, women, and children, emerging from 
 the forest, came pouring into the place, some upon 
 horses, some in farm-wagons, and troops of other 
 some on foot, slipping and sliding along in a fashion 
 most distressing to behold. The soil in this vicinity 
 is a black loam of surpassing fertility ; and, when 
 saturated with moisture, it adheres to the sole with 
 most pertinacious tenacity, more like to an amalgam 
 of soot and soap-grease than to any other substance 
 that has ever come under my cognizance. The inn
 
 THE FAR WEST. 207 
 
 was thronged by neighbouring farmers, some can- 
 vassing the relative and individual merits of the 
 Zebedee and the Portimous ; others sagely dwelling 
 upon the mooted point of peril to be apprehended 
 from the great sarpent Boy Contractor; while 
 little unwashen wights did run about and danger- 
 ously prophecy on the recent disappearance of the 
 big elephant. 
 
 Carlinville is a considerable village, situated on 
 the margin of a pleasant prairie, on the north side 
 of Macoupin Creek, and is the seat of justice for the 
 county. The name Macoupin is said to be of abori- 
 ginal derivation, and by the early French chroni- 
 clers was spelled and pronounced Ma-qua~pin, until 
 its present uncomely combination of letters became 
 legalized on the statute-book. The term, we are 
 told by Charlevoix, the French voyageur, is the In- 
 dian name of an esculent with a broad corolla, 
 found in many of the ponds and creeks of Illinois, 
 especially along the course of the romantic stream 
 bearing its name. The larger roots, eaten raw, 
 were poisonous, and the natives were accus- 
 tomed to dig ovens in the earth, into which, being 
 walled up with flat stones and heated, was deposited 
 the vegetable. After remaining for forty- eight 
 hours in this situation, the deleterious qualities 
 were found extracted, and the root being dried, 
 was esteemed a luxury by the Indians. The re- 
 gion bordering upon Carlinville is amazingly fer- 
 tile, and proportionally divided into prairie and 
 timber a circumstance by no means unworthy of 
 notice. There has been a design of establishing
 
 208 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 here a Theological Seminary, but the question of 
 its site has been a point easier to discuss than 
 to decide. My tarry at the village was a brief one* 
 though I became acquainted with a number of its 
 worthy citizens ; and in the log-office of a young 
 limb of legality, obtained, as a special distinction, a 
 glance at a forthcoming " Fourth-of- July" oration, 
 fruitful in those sonorous periods and stereotyped 
 patriotics indispensable on such occasions, and, at 
 all hazard, made and provided for them. As I was 
 leaving the village I was met by multitudes, pour- 
 ing in from all sections of the surrounding region, 
 literally thronging the ways ; mothers on horse- 
 back, with young children in their arms ; fathers 
 with daughters and wives en croupe, and at inter- 
 vals an individual, in quiet possession of an entire 
 animal, came sliding along in the mud, in fashion 
 marvellously entertaining to witness. A huge cart 
 there likewise was, which excited no small degree 
 of admiration as it rolled on, swarmed with women 
 and children. An aged patriarch, with hoary locks 
 resting upon his shoulders, enacted the part of char- 
 ioteer to this primitive establishment ; and now, in 
 zealous impatience to reach the scene of action, 
 from which the braying horns came resounding 
 loud and clear through the forest, he was wretch- 
 edly belabouring, by means of an endless whip, six 
 unhappy oxen to augment their speed. 
 
 I had travelled not many miles when a black 
 cloud spread itself rapidly over the sky, and in a 
 few moments the thunder began to bellow, the 
 lightnings to flash, and the rain to fall in torrents*
 
 THE FAR WEST. 209 
 
 Luckily enough for me, I found myself in the neigh- 
 bourhood of man's habitation. Leaping hastily 
 from my steed, and lending him an impetus with 
 my riding-whip which carried him safely beneath 
 a hospitable shed which stood thereby, I betook 
 myself, without ceremony or delay, to the mansion 
 house itself, glad enough to find its roof above me 
 as the first big rain-drops came splashing to the 
 ground. The little edifice was tenanted by three 
 females and divers flaxen-pated, sun-bleached ur- 
 chins of all ages and sizes, and, at the moment of 
 my entrance, all in high dudgeon, because, forsooth, 
 they were not to be permitted to drench themselves 
 in the anticipated shower. Like Noah's dove, they 
 were accordingly pulled within the ark, and there- 
 upon thought proper to set up their several and 
 collective Ebenezers. 
 
 "Well!" was my exclamation, in true Yankee 
 fashion, as I bowed my head low in entering the 
 humble postern ; " we're going to get pretty con- 
 siderable of a sprinkling, I guess." " I reckon," 
 was the sententious response of the most motherly- 
 seeming of the three women, at the same time vo- 
 ciferating to the three larger of the children, " Oh, 
 there, you Bill, Sail, Polly, honeys, get the gentle- 
 man a cheer ! Walk in, sir ; set down and take 
 a seat I" This evolution of" setting down and ta- 
 king a seat" was at length successfully effected, 
 after sundry manoeuvrings by way of planting the 
 three pedestals of the uncouth tripod upon the same 
 plane, and avoiding the fearful yawnings in the 
 puncheon floor. When all was at length quiet, I
 
 210 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 improved the opportunity of gazing about me to 
 explore the curious habitation into which I found 
 myself inserted. 
 
 The structure, about twenty feet square, had 
 originally been constructed of rough logs, the inter- 
 stices stuffed with fragments of wood and stone, and 
 daubed with clay ; the chimney was built up of 
 sticks laid crosswise, and plastered with the same 
 material to resist the fire. Such had been the back- 
 woodsman's cabin xi its primitive prime ; but time 
 and the elements had been busy with the little edi- 
 fice, and sadly had it suffered. Window or case- 
 ment was there none, neither was there need thereof; 
 for the hingeless door stood ever open, the clay was 
 disappearing from the intervals between the logs, 
 and the huge fireplace of stone exhibited yawning 
 apertures, abundantly sufficient for all the purposes 
 of light and ventilation to the single apartment of 
 the building. The puncheon floor I have alluded 
 to, and it corresponded well with the roof of the 
 cabin, which had never, in its best estate, been de- 
 signed to resist the peltings of such a pitiless tor- 
 rent as was now assailing it. The water soon be- 
 gan trickling in little rivulets upon my shoulders, 
 and my only alternative was my umbrella for shel- 
 ter. The furniture of the apartment consisted of 
 two plank-erections designed for bedsteads, which, 
 with a tall clothes-press, divers rude boxes, and a 
 side-saddle, occupied a better moiety of the area ; 
 while a rough table, a shelf against the wall, upon 
 which stood a water- pail, a gourd, and a few broken 
 trenchers, completed the household paraphernalia
 
 THE FAR WEST. 211 
 
 of this most unique of habitations. A half-con- 
 sumed flitch of bacon suspended in the chimney, 
 and a huge iron pot upon the fire, from which 
 issued a savoury indication of the seething mess 
 within, completes the "still-life" of the picture. 
 Upon one of the beds reclined one of the females 
 to avoid the rain ; a second was alternating her at- 
 tentions between her infant and her needle ; while 
 the third, a buxom young baggage, who, by-the-by, 
 was on a visit to her sister, was busying herself in 
 the culinary occupations of the household, much 
 the chief portion of which consisted in watching 
 the huge dinner- pot aforesaid, with its savoury con- 
 tents. 
 
 After remaining nearly two hours in the cabin, 
 in hopes that the storm would abate, I concluded 
 that, since my umbrella was no sinecure within 
 doors, it might as well be put in requisition without, 
 and mounted my steed, though the rain was yet 
 falling. I had proceeded but a few miles upon the 
 muddy pathway when my compass informed me 
 that I had varied from my route, a circumstance 
 by no means uncommon on the Western prairies. 
 During the whole afternoon, therefore, I continued 
 upon my way across a broad, pathless prairie, 
 some twelve or eighteen miles in extent, and dreary 
 enough withal, until nightfall, when I rejoiced to 
 find myself the inmate of the comfortable farm- 
 house upon its edge from which my last was dated. 
 
 Hillsboroughj III.
 
 212 THE FAR WEST, 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Skies softly beautiful, and blue 
 
 As Italy's, with stars as bright ; 
 Flowers rich as morning's sunrise hue, 
 
 And gorgeous as the gemm'd midnight. 
 Land of the West ! green Forest Land, 
 Thus hath Creation's bounteous hand 
 Upon thine ample bosom flung 
 
 Charms such as were her gift when the green world was 
 young !" GALLAGHER. 
 
 " Go thou to the house of prayer, 
 I to the woodlands will repair." 
 
 KIRKE WHITE. 
 
 " There is religion in a flower ; 
 Its still small voice is as the voice of conscience." 
 
 BELL. 
 
 MORE than three centuries ago, when the ro- 
 mantic Ponce de Leon, with his chivalrous follow- 
 ers, first planted foot upon the southern extremity 
 of the great Western Valley, the discovery of the 
 far-famed " Fountain of Youth" was the wild vision 
 which lured him on. Though disappointed in the 
 object of his enterprise, the adventurous Spaniard 
 was enraptured with the loveliness of a land which 
 even the golden realms of " Old Castile had never 
 realized ; and Florida* " the Land of Flowers," 
 was the poetic name it inspired. Twenty years, 
 and the bold soldier Ferdinand de Soto, of Cuba, 
 
 * Others say the peninsula was discovered on Easter-day ; Pas- 
 qua deflores, feast of flowers ; whence the name.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 213 
 
 the associate of Pizarro, with a thousand steel- 
 clad warriors at his back, penetrated the val- 
 ley to the far-distant post of Arkansas, and " El 
 padre de los aguas" was the expressive name of 
 the mighty stream he discovered, beneath the eter- 
 nal flow of whose surges he laid his bones to their 
 rest.* " La Belle Riviere /" was the delighted ex- 
 clamation which burst from the lips of the Cana- 
 dian voyageur, as, with wonder hourly increas- 
 ing, he glided in his light pirogue between the 
 swelling bluffs, and wound among the thousand 
 isles of the beautiful Ohio. The heroic Norman, 
 Sieur La Salle, when for the first time he beheld 
 the pleasant hunting-grounds of the peaceful Illini, 
 pronounced them a "Terrestrial Paradise." Dan- 
 iel Boone, the bold pioneer of the West, fifty years 
 ago, when standing on the last blue line of the Al- 
 leghanies, and at the close of a day of weary jour- 
 neying, he looked down upon the beautiful fields of 
 " Old Kentucke," now gilded by the evening sun, 
 turned his back for ever upon the green banks of 
 the Yadkin and the soil of his nativity, hailing the 
 glories of a new-found home. 
 
 " Fair wert thou, in the dreams 
 Of elder time, thou land of glorious flowers, 
 And summer winds, and low-toned silvery streams, 
 Dim with the shadows of thy laurel bowers." 
 
 And thus has it ever been ; and even yet the " pil- 
 grim from the North" rejoices with untold joy over 
 the golden beauties of the Valley beyond the 
 Mountains. 
 
 * See Appendix.
 
 214 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 It was a fine Sabbath morning when I mounted 
 my steed at the gate of the log farmhouse where I 
 had passed the night, to pursue my journey over 
 the prairie, upon the verge of which it stood. The 
 village of Hillsborough was but a few miles dis- 
 tant, and there I had resolved to observe the sa- 
 credness of the day. The showers of the prece- 
 ding evening had refreshed the atmosphere, which 
 danced over the plain in exhilarating gales, and 
 rustled among the boughs of the green woodlands 
 I was leaving. Before me was spread out a wa- 
 ving, undulating landscape, with herds of cattle 
 sprinkled here and there in isolated masses over 
 the surface ; the rabbit and wildfowl were sporting 
 along the pathway, and the bright woodpecker, 
 with his splendid plumage and querulous note, 
 was flitting to and fro among the thickets. Far 
 away along the eastern horizon stretched the dark 
 line of forest. The gorgeous prairie-flower flung 
 out its crimson petals upon the breeze, " blushing 
 like a banner bathed in slaughter," and methought 
 it snapped more gayly in the morning sunbeams 
 than it was wont ; the long grass rustled musically 
 its wavy masses back and forth, and, amid the Sab- 
 bath stillness around, methought there were there 
 notes of sweetness not before observed. The 
 whole scene lay calm and quiet, as if Nature, 
 if not man, recognised the Divine injunction to 
 rest ; and the idea suggested itself, that a solitary 
 Sabbath on the wild prairie, in silent converse with 
 the Almighty, might not be all unprofitable.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 215 
 
 " Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, 
 
 The bridal of the earth and sky, 
 Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night, 
 For thou must die."* 
 
 From the centre of the prairie the landscape 
 rolled gracefully away towards the eastern timber, 
 studded along its edge with farms. The retrospect 
 from beneath the tall oaks of the prairie over which 
 I had passed was exceedingly fine; the idea strikes 
 the spectator at once, and with much force, that 
 the whole plain was once a sheet of water. In- 
 deed, were we to form our opinion from the ap- 
 pearance of many of the prairies of Illinois, the 
 idea would be irresistible, that this peculiar spe- 
 cies of surface originated in a submersion of the 
 whole state. There are many circumstances which 
 lead us to the conclusion that these vast meadows 
 once formed the bed of a body of water similar to 
 the Northern lakes ; and, when the lowest point at 
 the Grand Tower on the Mississippi was torn away 
 by some convulsion of nature, a uniform surface 
 of fine rich mud was left. The ravines were 
 ploughed in the soft soil by subsequent floods, 
 and hence, while the elevated lands are fertile, 
 those more depressed are far less so. The soil of 
 the prairies is of a character decidedly alluvial, 
 being composed of compact strata of loam piled 
 upon each other, like that at the bottom of bodies 
 of water long stagnant. The first stratum is a 
 black, pliable mould, from two feet to five in depth ; 
 the second a red clay, amalgamated with sand, from 
 
 * George Herbert.
 
 216 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 five to ten feet in thickness ; the third a blue clay, 
 mixed with pebbles, of beautiful appearance, unc- 
 tuous to the feeling, and, when exposed to the at- 
 mosphere, of a fetid smell. Lakes are often found 
 in the prairies abounding in fish, which, when the 
 waters subside, are removed by cartloads. The 
 origin of these vast prairie-plains is, after all, no 
 easy matter to decide ; but, whatever the cause, 
 they have doubtless been perpetuated by the au- 
 tumnal fires which, year after year, from an era 
 which the earliest chronicles of history or tradition 
 have failed to record, have swept their surface ; for, 
 as soon as the grass is destroyed by the plough, 
 the winged seeds of the cotton- wood and sycamore 
 take root, and a young growth of timber sprouts 
 forth. The same is true along the margin of 
 creeks and streams, or upon steril or wet prai- 
 ries, where the vegetation does not become suffi- 
 ciently heavy or combustible for conflagration to 
 a great extent. These fires originated either in 
 the friction of the sear and tinder-like underbrush, 
 agitated by the high winds, or they were kindled 
 by the Indians for the purpose of dislodging game. 
 The mode of hunting by circular fires is said to 
 have prevailed at the time when Captain Smith 
 first visited the shores of Chesapeake Bay, where 
 extensive prairies then existed. These plains, by 
 cultivation, have long since disappeared. Mungo 
 Park describes the annual fires upon the plains of 
 Western Africa for a similar purpose and with 
 the same result. Tracts of considerable extent in
 
 THE FAR WEST. 217 
 
 the older settlements of the country, which many 
 years since were meadow, are clothed with forest. 
 
 " Coot morning, shur ! A pleashant tay, shur ! 
 Coome in, shur !" was the hospitable greeting of 
 mine host, or rather of the major domo of the little 
 brick hostelrie of Hillsborough as I drove up to 
 the bar-room entrance. He was a comical-looking, 
 bottle-shaped little personage, with a jolly red nose, 
 all the brighter, doubtless, for certain goodly pota- 
 tions of his own goodly admixtures ; with a brief 
 brace of legs, inserted into a pair of inexpressibles 
 a la Turque, a world too big, and a white capote 
 a world too little, to complete the Sunday toilet. 
 He could boast, moreover, that amazing lubricity 
 of speech, and that oiliness of tongue wherewith 
 sinful publicans have ever been prone to beguile 
 unwary wayfarers, taking in travellers, forsooth ! 
 Before I was fully aware of the change in my cir- 
 cumstances, I found myself quietly dispossessed of 
 horse and equipments, and placing my foot across 
 the threshold. The fleshy little Dutchman, though 
 now secure in his capture, proceeded to redouble 
 his assiduities. 
 
 "Anything to trink, shur? Plack your poots, 
 shur ? shave your face, shur ?" and a host of far- 
 ther interrogatories, which I at length contrived to 
 cut short with, " Show me a chamber, sir !" 
 
 The Presbyterian Church, at which I attended 
 worship, is a neat little edifice of brick, in modern 
 style, but not completed. The walls remained un- 
 conscious of plaster ; the orchestra, a naked scaf- 
 folding ; the pulpit, a box of rough boards ; and, 
 
 VOL. I.T
 
 218 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 more picturesque than all, in lieu of pews, slips, or 
 any such thing, a few coarse slabs of all forms and 
 fashions, supported on remnants of timber and 
 plank, occupied the open area for seats. And 
 marvellously comfortless are such seats, to my cer- 
 tain experience. In the evening I attended the 
 " Luteran Church," as my major domo styled it, 
 at the special instance of one of its worthy mem- 
 bers. This house of worship is designed for a 
 large one the largest in the state, I was informed 
 but, like its neighbour, was as yet but com- 
 menced. The external walls were quite complete ; 
 but the rafters, beams, studs, and braces within 
 presented a mere skeleton, while a few loose 
 boards, which sprang and creaked beneath the foot, 
 were spread over the sleepers as an apology for a 
 floor. There's practical utility for an economist ! 
 Because a church is unfinished is no good and suf- 
 ficient reason why it should remain unoccupied ! 
 
 As we entered the building, my cicerone very 
 unexpectedly favoured me with an introduction to 
 the minister. He was a dark, solemn-looking man, 
 with a huge Bible and psalm-book choicely tucked 
 under his left arm. After sundry glances at my 
 dress and demeanour, and other sundry whisper- 
 ings in the ear of my .companion, the good man 
 drew nigh, and delivered himself of the interroga- 
 tory, "Are you a clergyman, sir?" At this sage 
 inquiry, so sagely administered, my rebellious Jips 
 struggled with a smile, which, I misdoubt me much, 
 was not unobserved by the dark-looking minister ;
 
 THE FAR WEST. 219 
 
 for, upon my reply in the negative, he turned very 
 unceremoniously away, and betook him to his pul- 
 pit. By-the-by, this had by no means been the 
 first time I had been called to answer the same in- 
 quiry during my ramble in the West. 
 
 On returning to our lodgings after service, we 
 found quite a respectable congregation gathered 
 around the signpost, to whom my pink of major 
 domos was holding forth in no measured terms 
 upon the propriety of " letting off the pig guns" at 
 the dawning of the ever-memorable morrow,* "in 
 honour of the tay when our old farders fought like 
 coot fellows; they tid so, py jingoes; and I'll pe 
 out at tree o'glock, py jingoes, I will so," raphso- 
 died the little Dutchman, wanning up under the 
 fervour of his own eloquence. This subject was 
 still the theme of his rejoicing when he marshalled 
 me to my dormitory and wished me " pleashant 
 treams." 
 
 The first faint streak of crimson along the east- 
 ern heavens beheld me mounting at the door of the 
 inn ; and by my side was the patriotic domo, bow- 
 ing, and ducking, and telling over all manner of 
 kind wishes till I had evanished from view. A 
 more precious relic of the true oldfashioned, swag- 
 gering, pot-bellied publican is rarely to be met, 
 than that which I encountered in the person of the 
 odd little genius whose peculiarities I have re- 
 counted : even the worthy old " Caleb of Ravens- 
 wood," that miracle of major domos, would not 
 
 * July 4.
 
 220 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 have disowned my Dutchy for a brother crafts- 
 man. The village of Hillsborough is a pleasant, 
 healthy, thriving place ; and being intersected by 
 some of the most important state routes, will al- 
 ways remain a thoroughfare. An attempt has been 
 made by one of its citizens to obtain for this place 
 the location of the Theological Seminary now in 
 contemplation in the vicinity rather than at Carlin- 
 ville, and the offer he has made is a truly munifi- 
 cent one. The site proposed is a beautiful mound, 
 rising on the prairie's edge south of the village, 
 commanding a view for miles in every direction, 
 and is far more eligible than any spot I observed 
 in Carliuville 
 
 After crossing a prairie about a dozen miles in 
 width, and taking breakfast with a farmer upon its 
 edge, I continued my journey over the undulating 
 plains until near the middle of the afternoon, when 
 I reached my present stage. The whole region, 
 as I journeyed through it, lay still and quiet : ev- 
 ery farmhouse and log-cabin was deserted by its 
 tenants, who had congregated to the nearest vil- 
 lages to celebrate the day ; and, verily, not a little 
 did my heart smite me at my own heedless dese 
 cration of the political Sabbath of our land. 
 
 Vandalia, III
 
 THE FAR WEST. 221 
 
 XX. 
 
 " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
 There is society where rjpne intrudes " 
 
 ChUde Harold. 
 
 " The sun in all his broad career 
 Ne'er looked upon a fairer land, 
 Or brighter skies or sweeter scenes." 
 
 EVER since the days of that king of vagabonds, 
 the mighty Nimrod of sacred story, and, for aught 
 to the contrary, as long before, there has existed a 
 certain roving, tameless race of wights, whose chief 
 delight has consisted in wandering up and down 
 upon the face of the earth, with no definite object 
 of pursuit, and with no motive of peregrination 
 save a kind of restless, unsatisfied craving after 
 change ; in its results much like the migratory in- 
 stinct of passage-birds, but, unlike that periodical 
 instinct, incessant in exercise. Now, whether it so 
 be that a tincture of this same vagrant, Bohemian 
 spirit is coursing my veins under the name of 
 " Yankee enterprise," or whether, in my wander- 
 ings through these wild, unsettled regions, I have 
 imbibed a portion thereof, is not for me to decide. 
 Nevertheless, sure it is, not unfrequently ar<3 its 
 promptings detected as I journey through this beau- 
 tiful land. 
 
 It is evening now, and, after the fatigues of a 
 pleasant day's ride, I am seated beneath the piazza.
 
 222 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 of a neat farmhouse in the edge of a forest, through 
 which, for the last hour, my path has conducted, 
 and looking out upon a broad landscape of prairie. 
 My landlord, a high-minded, haughty Virginia em- 
 igrant, bitterly complains because, forsooth, in the 
 absence of slave-labour, he is forced to cultivate his 
 own farm ; and though, by the aid of a Dutchman, 
 he has made a pretty place of it, yet he vows 
 by all he loves to lay his bones within the bound- 
 aries of the " Ancient Dominion." My ride since 
 noon has been delightful ; over broad plains, inter- 
 sected by deep creeks, with their densely-wooded 
 bottoms. These streams constitute one of the most 
 romantic features of the country. I have crossed 
 very many during my tour, and all exhibit the same 
 characteristics : a broad, deep-cut channel, with 
 precipitous banks loaded with enormous trees, their 
 trunks interwoven and matted with tangled under- 
 brush and gigantic vegetation. As the traveller 
 stands upon the arch of the bridge of logs thrown 
 over these creeks, sometimes with an altitude at the 
 centre of forty feet, he looks down upon a stream 
 flowing in a deep, serpentine bed, and winding 
 away into the dusky shades of the overhanging 
 woods, until a graceful bend withdraws the dark 
 surface of the waters from his view. In the dry 
 months of summer, these creeks and ravines are 
 either completely free of water, or contain but a 
 mere rivulet ; and the traveller is amazed at the 
 depth and breadth of a channel so scantily supplied. 
 But at the season of the spring or autumnal rains 
 the scene is changed : a deep, turbid torrent rolls
 
 THE FAR WEST. 223 
 
 wildly onward through the dark woods, bearing 
 on its surface the trunks of trees and the ruins of 
 bridges swept from its banks; and the stream which, 
 a few weeks before, would scarcely have wet the 
 traveller's sole, is now an obstacle in his route dif- 
 ficult and dangerous to overcome. 
 
 Within a few miles of my present quarters an ad- 
 venture transpired of some slight interest to myself, 
 at least, as it afforded me a weary trudge beneath 
 a broiling sun. As I was leisurely pursuing my way 
 through the forest, I had chanced to spy upon the 
 banks of the roadside a cluster of wild flowers of 
 hues unusually brilliant ; and, with a spirit worthy 
 of Dr. Bat,* I at once resolved they should enrich 
 my "hortus siccus." Alighting, therefore, and 
 leaving my steed by the roadside, I at length suc- 
 ceeded, after most laudable scramblings for the ad- 
 vancement of science, in gathering up a bouquet of 
 surpassing magnificence. Alas ! alas ! would it 
 had been less so ; for my youthful steed, all un- 
 used to such sights and actions, and possessing, 
 moreover, a most sovereign and shameful indiffer- 
 ence to the glories of botany, had long, with suspi- 
 cious and sidelong glances, been eying the vagaries 
 of his truant master ; and now, no sooner did he 
 draw nigh to resume his seat and journey, than the 
 ungracious and ungrateful quadruped flung aloft 
 his head, and away he careered through the green 
 branches, mane streaming and saddle-bags flap- 
 ping. In vain was the brute addressed in language 
 the most mild and conciliatory that ever insinua- 
 ted itself into horse's lug ; in vain was he ordered, 
 
 * l\e Prairie.
 
 224 THE FAK WEST. 
 
 in tones of stern mandate, to cease his shameless 
 and unnatural rebellion, and to surrender himself 
 incontinently and without delay to his liege : en- 
 treaty and command, remonstrance and menace, 
 were alike unsuccessful ; and away he flew, "with 
 flowing tail and flying mane," in utter contempt of 
 all former or future vassalage. At one moment he 
 stood the attitude of humbleness and submission, 
 coolly cropping the herbage of the high banks ; and 
 then, the instant the proximity of his much-abused 
 master became perilous to his freedom, aloft flew 
 mane and tail, and away, away, the animal was 
 off, until an interval consistent with his new-gained 
 license lay behind him. After an hour of vexatious 
 toiling through dust and sun, a happily-executed 
 manoeuvre once more placed the most undutiful 
 of creatures in my power. And then, be ye sure, 
 that in true Gil pin fashion, " whip and spur did 
 make amends" for all arrears of unavenged misbe- 
 haviour. 
 
 " 'Twas for your pleasure that I walked, 
 Now you shall RUN for mine," 
 
 was the very Christian spirit of retaliation which 
 animated the few succeeding miles. 
 
 " But something too much of this." Some pages 
 back I was entering the capital of Illinois. The 
 town is approached from the north, through a scat- 
 tered forest, separating it from the prairies ; and 
 its unusually large and isolated buildings, few in 
 number as they are, stationed here and there upon 
 the eminences of the broken surface, give the place 
 a singularly novel aspect viewed from the adjacent
 
 THE FAR WEST. 225 
 
 heights. There is but little of scenic attraction 
 about the place, and, to the traveller's eye, still less 
 of the picturesque. Such huge structures as are 
 here beheld, in a town so inconsiderable in extent, 
 present an unnatural and forced aspect to one who 
 has just emerged from the wild waste of the neigh- 
 bouring prairies, sprinkled with their humble tene- 
 ments of logs. The scene is not in keeping ; it is 
 not picturesque. Such, at all events, were my 
 " first impressions" on entering the village, andjirst 
 impressions are not necessarily false. As I drew 
 nigh to the huge white tavern, a host of people were 
 swarming the doors ; and, from certain uncouth 
 noises which from time to time went up from the 
 midst thereof, not an inconsiderable portion of the 
 worthy multitude seemed to have succeeded in 
 rendering themselves gloriously tipsy in honour of 
 the glorious day. There was one keen, bilious- 
 looking genius in linsey-woolsey, with a face, in its 
 intoxicated state, like a red-hot tomahawk, whom 
 I regarded with special admiration as high-priest 
 of the bacchanal ; and so fierce and high were his 
 objurgations, that the idea with some force suggested 
 itself, whether, in the course of years, he had not 
 screamed his lean and hungry visage to its present 
 hatchet-like proportions. May he forgive if I err. 
 But not yet were my adventures over. Having 
 effected a retreat from the abominations of the bar- 
 room, I had retired to a chamber in the most quiet 
 corner of the mansion, and had seated myself to 
 endite an epistle, when a rap at the door announced 
 the presence of mine host, leading along an old
 
 226 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 yeoman whom I had noticed among the revellers ; 
 and, having given him a ceremonious introduction, 
 withdrew. To what circumstance I was indebted 
 for this unexpected honour, I was puzzling myself 
 to divine, when the old gentleman, after a preface 
 of clearings of the throat and scratchings of the 
 head, gave me briefly to understand, much to my 
 admiration, that I was believed to be neither more 
 nor less than an " Agent for a Western Land Spec- 
 ulating Company of the North," etc., etc. : and then, 
 in a confidential tone, before a syllable of negation 
 or affirmation could be offered, that he " owned a 
 certain tract of land, so many acres prairie, so 
 many timber, so many cultivated, so many wild," 
 etc., etc.: the sequel was anticipated by undeceiv- 
 ing the old farmer forthwith, though with no little 
 difficulty. The cause of this mistake I subsequently 
 discovered to be a very slight circumstance. On 
 the tavern register in the bar-room I had entered 
 as my residence my native home at the North, more 
 for the novelty of the idea than for anything else ; 
 or because, being a sort of cosmopolitan, I might 
 presume myself at liberty to appropriate any spot 
 I thought proper as that of my departure or desti- 
 nation. As a matter of course, and with laudable 
 desire to augment their sum of useful knowledge, 
 no sooner had the traveller turned from the regis- 
 ter than the sagacious host and his compeer brandy- 
 bibbers turned towards it ; and being unable to con- 
 ceive any reasonable excuse for a man to be wan- 
 dering so far from his home except for lucre's sake, 
 the conclusion at once and irresistibly followed that
 
 THE FAR WEST. 227 
 
 the stranger was a land-speculator, or something 
 thereunto akin ; and it required not many moments 
 for such a wildfire idea to run through such an in- 
 flammable mass of curiosity. 
 
 With the situation and appearance of Vandalia 
 I was not, as I have expressed myself, much pre- 
 possessed ; indeed, I was somewhat disappointed. 
 Though not prepared for anything very striking, 
 yet in the capital of a state we always anticipate 
 something, if not superior or equal, at least not in- 
 ferior to neighbouring towns of less note. Its site 
 is an elevated, undulating tract upon the west bank 
 of the Kaskaskia, and was once heavily timbered, 
 as are now its suburbs. The streets are of liberal 
 breadth some of them not less than eighty feet 
 from kerb to kerb enclosing an elevated public 
 square nearly in the centre of the village, which a 
 little expenditure of time and money might render 
 a delightful promenade. The public edifices are 
 very inconsiderable, consisting of an ordinary 
 structure of brick for legislative purposes ; a simi- 
 lar building originally erected as a banking estab- 
 lishment, but now occupied by the offices of the 
 state authorities ; a Presbyterian Church, with cu- 
 pola and bell, besides a number of lesser buildings 
 for purposes of worship and education. A hand- 
 some structure of stone for a bank is, however, in 
 progress, which, when completed, with other pub- 
 lic buildings in contemplation, will add much to 
 the aspect of the place. Here also is a land-office 
 for the district, and the Cumberland Road is per- 
 manently located and partially constructed to the
 
 228 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 place. An historical and antiquarian society has 
 here existed for about ten years, and its published 
 proceedings evince much research and information. 
 "The Illinois Magazine" was the name of an ably- 
 conducted periodical commenced at this town 
 some years since, and prosperously carried on by 
 Judge Hall, but subsequently removed to Cincin- 
 nati. Some of the articles published in this maga- 
 zine, descriptive of the state, were of high merit. 
 It is passing strange that a town like Vandalia, with 
 all the natural and artificial advantages it possess- 
 es; located nearly twenty years ago, by state au- 
 thority, expressly as the seat of government ; situa- 
 ted upon the banks of a fine stream, which small 
 expense would render navigable for steamers, and 
 in the heart of a healthy and fertile region, should 
 have increased and flourished no more than seems 
 to have been the case. Vandalia will continue 
 the seat of government until the year 1840 ; when, 
 agreeable to the late act of Legislature, it is to be 
 removed to Springfield, where an appropriation of 
 $50,000 has been made for a state-house now in 
 progress. 
 
 The growth of Vandalia, though tardy, can per- 
 haps be deemed so only in comparison with the 
 more rapid advancement of neighbouring towns ; 
 for a few years after it was laid off it was unsur- 
 passed in improvement by any other. We are told 
 that the first legislators who assembled in session at 
 this place sought their way through the neighbour- 
 ing prairies as the mariner steers over the track- 
 less ocean, by his knowledge of the cardinal points-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 229 
 
 Judges and lawyers came pouring in from opposite 
 directions, as wandering tribes assemble to council ; 
 and many were the tales of adventure and mishap 
 related at their meeting. Some had been lost in 
 the prairies; some had slept in the woods; some 
 had been almost chilled to death, plunging through 
 creeks and rivers. A rich growth of majestic oaks 
 then covered the site of the future metropolis; 
 tangled thickets almost impervious to human foot 
 surrounded it, and all was wilderness on every 
 side. Wonderful accounts of the country to the 
 north ; of rich lands, and pure streams, and prai- 
 ries more beautiful than any yet discovered, soon 
 began to come in by the hunters.* But over that 
 country the Indian yet roved, and the adventurous 
 pioneer neither owned the soil he cultivated, nor had 
 the power to retain its possession from the savage. 
 Only eight years after this, and a change, as if by 
 magic, had come over the little village of Vandalia ; 
 and not only so, but over the whole state, which 
 was now discovered to be a region more exten- 
 sive and far more fertile than the " sacred island 
 of Britain." The region previously the frontier 
 formed the heart of the fairest portion of the 
 state, and a dozen new counties were formed with- 
 in its extent. Mail-routes and post-roads, diver- 
 ging in all directions from the capital, had been es- 
 tablished, and canals and railways had been pro- 
 jected. Eight years more, and the " Northern 
 frontier" is the seat of power and population ; and 
 
 * Hall. 
 
 VOL. I.U
 
 230 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 here is removed the seat of government, because 
 the older settlements have not kept pace in ad- 
 vancement. 
 
 It was a fine mellow morning when I left Van- 
 dalia to pursue my journey over the prairies to 
 Carlisle. For some miles my route lay through a 
 dense clump of old woods, relieved at intervals by 
 extended glades of sparser growth. This road is 
 but little travelled, and so obscure that for most of 
 the way I could avail myself of no other guide than 
 the " blaze 91 upon the trees ; and this mark in many 
 places, from its ancient, weather-beaten aspect, 
 seemed placed there by the axe of the earliest pio- 
 neer. Rank grass has obliterated the pathway, 
 and overhanging boughs brush the cheek. It was 
 in one of those extended glades I have mentioned 
 that a nobly-antlered buck and his beautiful doe 
 sprang out upon the path, and stood gazing upon 
 me from the wayside until I had approached so near 
 that a rifle, even in hands all unskilled in " gentle 
 woodcraft," had not been harmless. I was even 
 beginning to meditate upon the probable effect of 
 a pistol-shot at twenty paces, when the graceful 
 animals, throwing proudly up their arching necks, 
 bounded off into the thicket. Not many miles from 
 the spot I shared the rough fare of an old hunter, 
 who related many interesting facts in the character 
 and habits of this animal, and detailed some curious 
 anecdotes in the history of his own wild life. He 
 was just about leaving his lodge on a short hunting 
 excursion, and the absence of a rifle alone pre- 
 vented me from accepting a civil request to bear 
 him company.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 231 
 
 Most of the route from Vandalia to Carlisle is very 
 tolerable, with the exception of one detestable" spot, 
 fitly named " Hurricane Bottom ;" a more dreary, 
 desolate, purgatorial region than which, I am very 
 free to say, exists not in Illinois. It is a densely- 
 wooded swamp, composed of soft blue clay, exceed- 
 ingly tenacious to the touch and fetid in odour, ex- 
 tending nearly two miles. A regular highway over 
 this mud-hole can scarcely be said to exist, though 
 repeated attempts to construct one have been made 
 at great expense : and now the traveller, upon en- 
 tering this " slough of despond," gives his horse the 
 reins to slump, and slide, and plunge, and struggle 
 through among the mud-daubed trees to the best of 
 his skill and ability. 
 
 Night overtook me in the very heart of a broad 
 prairie ; and, like the sea, a desolate place is the 
 prairie of a dark night. It demanded no little ex- 
 ercise of the eye and judgment to continue upon a 
 route where the path was constantly diverging and 
 varying in all directions. A bright glare of light at 
 a distance at length arrested my attention. On ap- 
 proaching, I found it to proceed from an encamp- 
 ment of tired emigrants, whose ponderous teams 
 were wheeled up around the blazing fire ; while the 
 hungry oxen, released from the yoke, were brows- 
 ing upon the tops of the tall prairie-grass on every 
 side. This grass, though coarse in appearance, in 
 the early stages of its growth resembles young 
 wheat, and furnishes a rich and succulent food for 
 cattle. It is even asserted that, when running at 
 large in fields where the young wheat covers the
 
 232 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 ground, cattle choose the prairie-grass in the margin 
 of the field in preference to the wheat itself. A 
 few scattered, twinkling lights, and the fresh-smell- 
 ing air from the Kaskaskia, soon after informed me 
 that I was not far from the village of Carlisle. 
 This is a pleasant, romantic little town, upon the 
 west bank of the river, and upon the great stage- 
 route through the state from St. Louis to Vincen- 
 nes. This circumstance, and the intersection of 
 several other state thoroughfares, give it the ani- 
 mated, business-like aspect of a market town, not 
 often witnessed in a village so remote from the ad- 
 vantages of general commerce.- Its site is elevated 
 and salubrious, on the border of a fertile prairie: 
 yet, notwithstanding all these advantages, Carlisle 
 cannot be said to have increased very rapidly when 
 we consider that twenty years have elapsed since it 
 was first laid off for a town. It is the seat of jus- 
 tice for Clinton county, and can boast a wooden 
 courthouse in " ruinous perfection." In its vicinity 
 are some beautiful country-seats. One of these, 
 named " Mound Farm," the delightful residence of 
 
 Judge B , imbowered in trees and shrubbery, 
 
 and about a mile from the village, I visited during 
 my stay. It commands from its elevated site a no- 
 ble view of the neighbouring prairie, the village 
 and river at its foot, and the adjacent farms. Un- 
 der the superintendence of cultivated taste, this spot 
 may become one of the loveliest retreats in Illinois. 
 Clinton county, III.
 
 THE PAR WEST. 233 
 
 XXL 
 
 " To him who, in the love of Nature, holds 
 Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
 A various language." 
 
 " The sunny Italy may boast 
 
 The beauteous tints that flush her skies, 
 And lovely round the Grecian coast 
 
 May thy blue pillars rise : 
 I only know how fair they stand 
 About my own beloved land." 
 
 The Skies. BRYANT. 
 
 To the man of cultivated imagination and deli- 
 cate taste, the study of nature never fails to afford 
 a gratification, refined as it is exquisite. In the 
 pencilled petals of the flower as it bows to the 
 evening breeze ; in the glittering scales of the fish 
 leaping from the wave ; in the splendid plumage 
 of the forest-bird, and in the music-tinklings of the 
 wreathed and enamelled sea-shell rocked by the 
 billow, he recognises an eloquence of beauty which 
 he alone can appreciate. For him, too, the myriad 
 forms of animate creation unite with inanimate na- 
 ture in one mighty hymn of glory to their Maker, 
 from the hum of the sparkling ephemeroid as he 
 blithely dances away his little life in the beams of 
 a summer sun, and the rustling music of the prai- 
 rie-weed swept by the winds, to the roar of the 
 shaggy woods upon the mountain-side, and the 
 fierce, wild shriek of the ocean-eagle. To inves-
 
 234 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 tigate the more minute and delicate of Nature's 
 workings is indeed a delightful task; and along 
 this fairy and flowery pathway the cultivated fancy 
 revels with unmingled gratification; but, as the 
 mind approaches the vaster exhibitions of might 
 and majesty, the booming of the troubled ocean, 
 the terrible sublimity of the midnight storm, the 
 cloudy magnificence of the mountain height, the 
 venerable grandeur of the aged forest, it expands 
 itself in unison till lost in the immensity of created 
 things. Reflections like these are constantly sug- 
 gesting themselves to the traveller's thoughts amid 
 the grand scenery of the West ; but at no season 
 do they rise more vividly upon the mind than when 
 the lengthened shadows of evening are stealing 
 over the landscape, and the summer sun is sinking 
 to his rest. This is the " magic hour" when 
 
 " Bright clouds are gathering one by one, 
 Sweeping in pomp round the dying sun ; 
 With crimson banner and golden pall, 
 Like a host to their chieftain's funeral." 
 
 There is not a more magnificent spectacle in nature 
 than summer sunset on the Western prairie. I 
 have beheld the orb of day, after careering his 
 course like a giant through the firmament, go down 
 into the fresh tumbling billows of ocean ; and sun- 
 set on the prairies, which recalls that scene, is alone 
 equalled by it. 
 
 Near nightfall one evening I found myself in the 
 middle of one of these vast extended plains, where 
 the eye roves unconfined over the scene, for miles 
 unrelieved by a stump, or a tree, or a thicket, 
 and meets only the deep 'blue of the horizon on
 
 THE FAR WEST. 235 
 
 every side, blending with the billowy foliage of the 
 distant woodland. Descending a graceful slope, 
 even this object is lost, and a boundless landscape 
 of blue above and green below is unfolded to the 
 traveller's vision ; again, approaching the summit of 
 the succeeding slope, the forest rises in clear outline 
 in the margin of the vast panorama. For some 
 hours the heavens had been so enveloped in huge 
 masses of brassy clouds, that now, when the shad- 
 ows deepened over sky and earth, one was at a loss 
 to determine whether the sun had yet gone down, 
 except for a broad zone of sapphire girding the 
 whole western firmament. Upon the superior edge 
 of this deep belt now glistened the luminary, grad- 
 ually revealing itself to the eye, and blazing forth 
 at length " like angels' locks unshorn," flinging a 
 halo of golden effulgence far athwart the dim even- 
 ing prairie. A metamorphosis so abrupt, so rapid, 
 so unlocked for, seemed almost to realize the fables 
 of enchantment. One moment, and the whole vast 
 landscape lay veiled in shadowy dimness ; the next, 
 and every grass blade, and spray, and floweret, and 
 nodding wild-weed seemed suffused in a flood of 
 liquid effulgence; while far along, the uniform 
 ridges of the heaving plain gleamed in the rich light 
 like waves of a moonlit sea, sweeping away, roll 
 upon roll, till lost in distance to the eye. Slowly 
 the splendid disk went down behind the sea of 
 waving verdure, until at length a single point of in- 
 tense, bewildering brightness flamed out above the 
 mass of green. An instant, this too was gone as 
 
 " An angel's wing through an opening cloud, 
 Is seen and then withdrawn :" -
 
 236 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 and then those deep, lurid funeral fires of departing 
 day streamed, flaring upward even to the zenith, 
 flinging over the vast concave a robe of unearthly, 
 terrible magnificence ! Then, as the fount of all this 
 splendour sank deeper and deeper beneath the hor- 
 izon, the blood-red flames died gently away into the 
 mellow glories of summer evening skylight, bathing 
 the brow of heaven in a tender roseate, which hours 
 after cheered the lonely traveller across the waste. 
 The pilgrim wanderer in other climes comes back 
 to tell us of sunnier skies and softer winds ! The 
 blue heavens of Italy have tasked the inspiration of 
 an hundred bards, and the warm brush of her own 
 Lorraine has swept the canvass with their gorgeous 
 transcript! But what pencil has wandered over 
 the grander scenes of the North American prairie ? 
 What bard has struck his lyre to the wild melody 
 of loveliness of the prairie sunset ? Yet who shall 
 tell us that there exists not a glory in the scene, 
 amid the untrod wastes of the wilderness West, 
 which even the skies of " sunny Italy" might not 
 blush anew to acknowledge ? No wandering Har- 
 old has roamed on a pilgrimage of poetry over the 
 sublime and romantic scenery of our land, to hymn 
 its praise in breathing thoughts and glowing words ; 
 yet here as there, 
 
 " Parting day 
 
 Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues 
 With a new colour as it gasps away : 
 The last still loveliest, till 'tis gone and all is gray !" 
 
 I cannot tell of the beauties of climes I have 
 never seen ; but I have gazed upon all the varied 
 loveliness of my own fair, nat've land, from the ri-
 
 THE FAR WEST. 237 
 
 sing sun to its setting, and in vain have tasked my 
 fancy to image a fairer. 
 
 A pleasant day's ride directly west from Carlisle, 
 over extensive and beautiful prairies, intersected by 
 shady woods, with their romantic creeks, and the 
 traveller finds himself in the quiet village of Leba- 
 non. Its site is a commanding, mound-like eleva- 
 tion in the skirts of a forest, swelling gently up from 
 the prairie on the west bank of Little Silver Creek. 
 This stream, with the larger branch, received its 
 name from the circumstance that the early French 
 settlers of the country, in the zeal of their faith and 
 research for the precious metals, a long while mis- 
 took the brilliant specula of horneblende which flow 
 in its clear waters for silver, and were unwilling to 
 be undeceived in their extravagant anticipations 
 until the absence of the material in their purses 
 aroused them from their error. In the neighbour- 
 hood of Rock Spring a shaft for a mine was sunk.* 
 It was early one beautiful morning that I found my- 
 self approaching the village of Lebanon, though 
 many miles distant in the adjacent plain ; appropri- 
 ately named for its loveliness the " Looking-glass 
 Prairie." The rosy sunbeams were playing lightly 
 over the pleasant country-seats and neat farmhouses, 
 with their white palings, sprinkled along the decliv- 
 ity before me, imbowered in their young orchards 
 and waving maize-fields ; while flocks and herds, 
 
 * Tradition telleth of vast treasures here exhumed ; and, on 
 strength of this, ten years ago a company of fortune-seekers dug 
 away for several months with an enthusiasm worthy of better sac- 
 cess than awaited them.
 
 238 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 gathered in isolated masses over the intervening 
 meadow, were cropping the rich herbage. To the 
 right and left, and in the rear, the prairie stretches 
 away beyond the view. The body of the village is 
 situated about one mile from these suburbs, and its 
 character and history may be summed up in the 
 single sentence, a pleasant little Methodist country 
 village. The peculiarities of the sect are here 
 strikingly manifested to the traveller in all the or- 
 dinary concerns and occupations of life, even in the 
 every-day garb and conversation of its sober-browed 
 citizens. It presents the spectacle, rare as it is 
 cheering, of an entire community characterized by 
 its reverence for religion. Located in its immediate 
 vicinity is a flourishing seminary, called M'Ken- 
 dreean College. It is under the supervision of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church, and has at present two 
 instructors, with about fifty pupils in the prepara- 
 tory department. It has a commodious frame build- 
 ing, presenting from its elevated site an imposing 
 view to the traveller. As is usually the case with 
 these little out-of-the-world villages, when any ob- 
 ject comes up in the midst around which the feel- 
 ings and interests of all may cluster, upon this in- 
 stitution is centred the heart and soul of every 
 man, to say not a word of all the women and chil- 
 dren, in Lebanon ; and everything not connected, 
 either remotely or immediately, with its welfare, is 
 deemed of very little, if of any importance. " The 
 Seminary ! The Seminary /" I defy a traveller 
 to tarry two hours in the village without hearing 
 rung all the changes upon that topic for his edifica- 
 tion. The surrounding region is fertile, populous,
 
 THE FAR WEST. 239 
 
 and highly cultivated ; and for an inland, farming 
 village, it is quite as bustling, I suppose, as should 
 be expected ; though, during my visit, its streets 
 which, by-the-by, are of very liberal breadth main- 
 tained a most Sabbath-like aspect. 
 
 The route from Lebanon to Belleville is, in fine 
 weather, very excellent. Deep woods on either side 
 of the hard, smooth, winding pathway, throw their 
 boughs over the head, sometimes lengthening away 
 into an arched vista miles in extent. It was a sul- 
 try afternoon when I was leisurely travelling along 
 this road ; and the shadowy coolness of the atmo- 
 sphere, the perfume of wild flowers and aromatic 
 herbs beneath the underbrush, and the profusion of 
 summer fruit along the roadside, was indescribably 
 delightful. Near sunset, a graceful bend of the 
 road around a clump of trees placed before me the 
 pretty little village of Belleville ; its neat enclosures 
 and white cottages peeping through the shrubbery, 
 now gilded by the mellow rays of sunset in every 
 leaf and spray. Whether it was owing to this 
 agreeable coincidence, or to the agreeable visit I 
 here enjoyed, that I conceived such an attachment 
 for the place, I cannot say ; but sure it is, I fell in 
 love with the little town aijirst sight ; and, what is 
 more marvellous, was not, according to all prece- 
 dent, cured at second, when on the following morn- 
 ing I sallied forth to reconnoitre its beauties " at 
 mine own good leisure." Now it is to be pre- 
 sumed that, agreeable to the taste of six travellers 
 in a dozen, I have passed through many a village 
 in Illinois quite as attractive as this same Belle- 
 ville : but to convince me of the fact would be no
 
 240 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 easy task. " Man is the sport of circumstance," 
 says the fatalist ; and however this may be in the 
 moral world, if any one feels disposed to doubt upon 
 the matter in the item before us, let him disembark 
 from a canal-boat at Pittsburgh on a rainy, misty, 
 miserable morning ; and then, unable to secure for 
 his houseless head a shelter from the pitiless pelt- 
 ings, let him hurry away through the filthy streets, 
 deluged with inky water, to a crowded Ohio steam- 
 er ; and if " circumstances''' do not force him to dis- 
 like Pittsburgh ever after, then his human nature is 
 vastly more forbearing than my own. Change the 
 picture. Let him enter the quiet little Illinois vil- 
 lage at the gentle hour of sunset ; let him meet 
 warm hospitality, and look upon fair forms and 
 bright faces, and if he fail to be pleased with that 
 place, why, " he's not the man I took him for. 
 
 The public buildings of Belleville are a handsome 
 courthouse of brick, a wretched old jail of the same 
 material, a public hall belonging to a library com- 
 pany, and a small framed Methodist house of wor- 
 ship. It is situated in the centre of " Turkey-hill 
 Settlement," one of the oldest and most flourishing 
 in the state, and has a fine timber tract and several 
 beautiful country-seats in its vicinity. 
 
 Leaving Belleville with some reluctance, and not 
 a few " longing, lingering looks behind," my route 
 continued westward over a broken region of alter- 
 nating forest and prairie, sparsely sprinkled with 
 trees, and yet more sparsely with inhabitants. At 
 length, having descended a precipitous hill, the 
 rounded summit of which, as well as the adjoining 
 heights, commanded an immense expanse of level
 
 THE PAR WEST* 241 
 
 landscape, stretching off from the base, I stood 
 once more upon the fertile soil of the " American 
 Bottom" The sharp, heavy-roofed French cottages, 
 with low verandahs running around ; the ungainly 
 outhouses and enclosures ; the curiously-fashioned 
 vehicles and instruments of husbandry in the barn- 
 yards and before the doors ; the foreign garb and di- 
 alect of the people ; and, above all, the amazing fer- 
 tility of the soil, over whose exhaustless depths the 
 maize has rustled half a century, constitute the 
 most striking characteristics of this interesting tract, 
 in the section over which I was passing. This 
 settlement, extending from the foot of the bluffs for 
 several miles over the Bottom, was formed about 
 forty years ago by a colony from Cahokia, and 
 known by the name of "Little French Village;" 
 it now comprises about twenty houses and a grog- 
 shop. In these bluffs lies an exhaustless bed of bitu- 
 minous coal : vast quantities have been transported 
 to St. Louis, and for this purpose principally is the 
 railway to the river designed. This vein of coal is 
 said to have been discovered by the rivulet of a 
 spring issuing from the base of the bluffs. The 
 stratum is about six feet in thickness, increasing in 
 size as it penetrates the hill horizontally. Though 
 somewhat rotten and slaty, it is in some particulars 
 not inferior to the coal of the Alleghanies ; and the 
 vein is thought to extend first from the mouth of the 
 Kaskaskia to that of the Illinois. About three miles 
 below the present shaft, a continuation of the bed 
 was discovered by fire communicated from the root 
 of a tree ; the bank of coal burnt for upward of a 
 VOL. LX
 
 242 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 twelvemonth, and the conflagration was then smoth- 
 ered only by the falling in of the superincumbent 
 soil. St. Clair county, which embraces a large 
 portion of the American Bottom, is the oldest settle- 
 ment in the state. In 1795 the county was formed 
 by the Legislature of the Northwestern Territory, 
 and then included all settlements in Illinois east of 
 the Mississippi, 
 
 I had just cleverly cleared the outskirts of the 
 little antediluvian village beneath the bluffs, when 
 a dark, watery-looking cloud came tumbling up out 
 of the west ; the thunder roared across the Bottom 
 and was reverberated from the cliffs, and in a few 
 moments down came the big rain-drops dancing in 
 torrents from the clouds, and pattering up like mist 
 along the plain. Verily, groaned forth the wo-be- 
 gone traveller, this is the home of clouds and the 
 realm of thunder ! Never did hapless mortals sus- 
 tain completer drenchings than did the traveller and 
 his steed, notwithstanding upon the first onset they 
 had plunged themselves into the sheltering depths of 
 the wood. A half hour's gallop over the slippery 
 bottom, and the stern roar of a steamer's 'scape-pipe 
 informed me that I was not far from the "great 
 waters." A few yards through the belt of forest, 
 and the city of San Louis, with towers and roofs, 
 stood before me. 
 St. Louis.
 
 THE FAR WEST. 243 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " I have no wife nor children, good or bad, to provide for ; a 
 mere spectator of other men's fortunes and adventures, and how 
 they play their parts." Anat^ of Melancholy. 
 
 " Oh ye dread scenes, where Nature dwells alone, 
 Serenely glorious on her craggy throne ; 
 Ye citadels of rock, gigantic forms, 
 Veiled by the mists, and girdled by the storms ; 
 Ravines, and glens, and deep-resounding caves, 
 That hold communion with the torrent waves." 
 
 HEMANS. 
 
 AH, the single blessedness of the unmarried state ! 
 Such is the sentiment of an ancient worthy, quietly 
 expressed in the lines which I have selected for a 
 motto. After dozing away half his days and all his 
 energies within the dusky walls of a university, 
 tumbling over musty tomes and shrivelled parch- 
 ments until his very brain had become cobwebbed 
 as the alcoves he haunted, and the blood in hi& 
 veins was all " adust and thin ;" then, forsooth, the 
 shameless old fellow issues forth with his vainglo- 
 rious sentiment upon his lips ! And yet, now that 
 we consider, there is marvellous "method" in the 
 old man's " madness !" In very truth and soberness, 
 there is a blessedness which the bachelor can boast, 
 single though it be, in which the "man of fam- 
 ily," though doubly blessed, cannot share ! To the 
 former, life may be made one long holyday, and its 
 path a varied and a flowery one ! while to the poor
 
 244 THE PAR WEST. 
 
 victim of matrimonial toils, wife and children are 
 the Alpha and Omega of a weary existence ! Of 
 all travelling companionship, forfend us from that 
 of a married man ! Independence ! He knows not 
 of it ! Such is the text and such the commentary : 
 now for the practical application. 
 
 It was a balmy July morning, and the flutelike 
 melody of the turtle-dove was ringing through the 
 woodlands. Leaving the pleasant villa of Dr. F. in 
 the environs of North St. Louis, I found myself once 
 more fairly en route, winding along that delightful 
 road which sweeps the western bottom of the Mis- 
 sissippi. Circumstances not within my control, 
 Benedict though I am, had recalled me, after a ram- 
 ble of but a few weeks over the prairies, again to the 
 city, and compelled me to relinquish my original 
 design of a tour of the extreme Northwest. Ah, 
 the despotism of circumstance ! My delay, how- 
 ever, proved a brief, though pleasant one ; and with 
 a something of mingled regret and anticipation it 
 was that I turned from the bright eyes and dark 
 locks of St. Louis " forgive my folly" and once 
 again beheld its imposing structures fade in distance. 
 
 By far the most delightful drive in the vicinity of 
 St. Louis is that of four or five miles in its northern 
 suburbs, along the river bottom . The road, emerging 
 from the streets of the city through one of its finest 
 sections, and leaving the "Big Mound" upon the 
 right, sweeps off for several miles upon a succession 
 of broad plateaux, rolling up from the water's edge. 
 To the left lies an extensive range of heights, sur- 
 mounted by ancient mounds and crowned with
 
 THE FAR WEST. 245 
 
 groves of the shrub-oak, which afford a delightful 
 shade to the road running below. Along this ele- 
 vated ridge beautiful country-seats, with graceful 
 piazzas and green Venitian blinds, are caught from 
 time to time glancing through the shrubbery ; while 
 to the right, smooth meadows spread themselves 
 away to the heavy belt of forest which margins the 
 Mississippi. Among these pleasant villas the little 
 white farm-cottage, formerly the residence of Mr. 
 C., beneath the hills, surrounded by its handsome 
 grounds, and gardens, and glittering fishponds, par- 
 tially shrouded by the broad-leaped eatalpa, the 
 willow, the acacia, and other ornamental trees, 
 presents, perhaps, the rarest instance of natural 
 beauty adorned by refined taste. A visit to this 
 delightful spot during my stay at St. Louis informed 
 me of the fact that, within as well as abroad, the 
 hand of education and refinement had not been idle. 
 Paintings, busts, medallions, Indian curiosities, &c., 
 &c., tastefully arranged around the walls and shelves 
 of an elegant library, presented a feast to the visiter 
 as rare in the Far West as it is agreeable to a cul- 
 tivated mind. Near this cottage is the intended site 
 of the building of the St. Louis Catholic University, 
 a lofty and commanding spot. A considerable tract 
 was here purchased, at a cost of thirty thousand dol- 
 lars ; but the design of removal from the city has for 
 the present been relinquished. Immediately adjoin- 
 ing is situated the stately villa of Colonel O'Fallon, 
 with its highly-cultivated gardens and its beautiful 
 park sweeping off in the rear. In a very few years- 
 this must become one of the most delightful spot*
 
 246 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 in the West. For its elegant grounds, its green 
 and hot houses, and its exotic and indigenous plants, 
 it is, perhaps, already unequalled west of Cincinnati. 
 No expense, attention, or taste will be wanting to 
 render it all of which the spot is capable. 
 
 Leaving the Bottom, the road winds gracefully 
 off from the Mississippi, over the hard soil of the 
 bluffs, through a region broken up by sink-holes, 
 and covered with a meager growth of oaks, with 
 small farms at intervals along the route, until at 
 length the traveller finds himself at that beautiful 
 spot on the Missouri, Belle Fontaine, fifteen miles 
 from St. Louis. On account of the salubrity and 
 beauty of the site, an army cantonment was located 
 here by General Wilkinson in the early part of the 
 present century, and fortifications consisting of pal- 
 isade-work existed, and a line of log-barracks suffi- 
 cient to quarter half a regiment. Nothing now re- 
 mains but a pile of ruins. " The barracks have 
 crumbled into dust, and the ploughshare has passed 
 over the promenade of the sentinel." Jefferson 
 Barracks, in the southern environs of the city, have 
 superseded the old fortress, and the spot has been 
 sold to a company, which has here laid off a town ; 
 and as most of the lots have been disposed of, and 
 a turnpike-road from St. Louis has been chartered, 
 a succeeding tourist may, at no distant period, pen- 
 cil it in his notebook " a flourishing village." Cold 
 Water Creek is the name of a clear stream which 
 empties itself into the Missouri just above, upon 
 which are several mill-privileges ; and from the 
 base of the bluff itself gushes a fountain, on account
 
 THE FAR WEST. 247 
 
 of which the place received its name from the 
 French. The site for the new town is a command- 
 ing and beautiful one, being a bold, green promon- 
 tory, rising from the margin of the stream about 
 four miles above its confluence with the Mississippi. 
 The view developed to the eye of the spectator from 
 this spot on a fine day is one of mingled sublimity 
 and beauty. For some miles these old giants of the 
 West are beheld roaming along through their deep, 
 fertile valleys, so different in character and aspect 
 that one can hardly reconcile with that diversity 
 the fact that their destiny is soon to become one 
 and unchangeably the same. And then comes the 
 mighty "meeting of the waters," to which no pen 
 can hope to render justice. 
 
 There is a singular circumstance related of the 
 discovery of a large human tooth many years since 
 at Belle Fontaine, in excavating a well, when at the 
 depth of forty feet. This was the more extraordi- 
 nary as the spot was not alluvion, and could have 
 undergone no change from natural causes for centu- 
 ries. Various strata of clay were passed through 
 before the tooth was thrown up ; and this circum- 
 stance, together with the situation of the place, 
 would almost preclude the possibility of a vein of 
 subterraneous water having conveyed it to the spot. 
 This is mysterious enough, certainly ; but the fact 
 is authentic. 
 
 Returning at an angle of forty-five degrees with 
 the road by which he approaches, a ride of a dozen 
 miles up the Missouri places the traveller upon a 
 bold roll of the prairie, from which, in the beautiful
 
 248 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 valley below, rising above the forest, appear the steep 
 roofs and tall chimneys of the little hamlet of Flor- 
 issant. Its original name was St. Ferdinand, titular 
 saint of its church ; and though one of the most ad- 
 vanced in years, it is by no means the most antique- 
 looking of those ancient villages planted by the early 
 French. Its site is highly romantic, upon the banks 
 of a creek of the same name, and in the heart of 
 one of the most fertile and luxuriant valleys ever 
 subjected to cultivation.* The village now embraces 
 about thirty or forty irregular edifices, somewhat 
 modernized in style and structure, surrounded by 
 extensive corn-fields, wandering flocks of Indian 
 ponies, and herds of cattle browsing in the plain. 
 Here also is a Catholic Church, a neat building of 
 brick, with belfry and bell > connected with which 
 is a convent of nuns, and by these is conducted a 
 Seminary for young ladies of some note. This in- 
 stitution if the Hibernian hostess of the little inn 
 at which I dined is to be credited in her statements 
 is the most flourishing establishment in all the re- 
 gion far and near f and " ^educates the young led- 
 dies in everything but religion !" For the redoubt- 
 able Tonishf. wha whilom figured so bravely on 
 the prairies and in print^ I made diligent inquiry. 
 His cottage the best in the village and a dirty 
 little brood of his posterity, were pointed out to me, 
 but the old worthy himself was, as usual, in the re- 
 gions of the Rocky Mountains : when last seen, he 
 could still tell the stoutest lie with the steadiest mus- 
 cles of any man in the village, while he and his 
 * This valley appears to have beeji the bed of an ancient lake..
 
 THE FAR WEST. 249 
 
 hopeful son could cover each other's trail so nicely 
 that a lynx-eye would fail to detect them. In the 
 vicinity of Florissant is a settlement called Owen's 
 Station, formerly the site of a stoccade fort for 
 defence against the Indians, and of a Spanish station 
 on account of a fine fountain in the vicinity. 
 
 The direct route from St. Louis to Florissant is 
 an excellent one, over a high rolling prairie, and 
 commands a noble sweep of scenery. From sev- 
 eral elevated points, the white cliffs beyond the 
 American Bottom, more than twenty miles distant, 
 may be seen, while farmhouses and villas are be- 
 held in all directions gleaming through the groves. 
 Scenery of the same general character presents it- 
 self upon the direct route to St. Charles, with the 
 exception of steeper hills and broader plains. Upon 
 this route my path entered nearly at right angles 
 soon after leaving the French village. Upon the 
 right shore of the Missouri, not far above Florissant, 
 is situated La Charbonniere, a name given to a cel- 
 ebrated coal-bank in a bluff about two hundred feet 
 in altitude, and about twice as long. The stratum 
 of coal is about a dozen feet in thickness, and lies 
 directly upon the margin of the river : the quantity 
 in the bank is said to be immense, and it contains an 
 unusual proportion of bitumen. Iron ore has also 
 been discovered at this spot. 
 
 The road over the Missouri Bottom was detesta- 
 ble, as never fails to be the case after a continued 
 rain-storm, and my horse's leg sank to the middle 
 in the black, unctuous loam almost at every step. 
 Upon either side, like, colonnades, rose up those
 
 250 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 enormous shafts of living verdure which strike the 
 solitary traveller upon these unfrequented bottoms 
 with such awe and veneration; while the huge 
 whirls of the writhing wild-vine hung dangling, like 
 gigantic serpents, from the lofty columns around 
 whose capitals they clung. On descending the 
 bluffs to the bottom, the traveller crosses a bed of 
 limestone, in which is said to exist a fissure per- 
 fectly fathomless. In a few moments, the boiling, 
 turbid floods of the Missouri are beheld rolling ma- 
 jestically along at the feet, and to the stranger's eye, 
 at first sight, always suggesting the idea of unusual 
 agitation ; but so have they rolled onward century 
 after century, age after age. The wild and impet- 
 uous character of this river, together with the vast 
 quantities of soil with which its waters are charged, 
 impart to it a natural sublimity far more striking, at 
 first view, than that of the Mississippi. This cir- 
 cumstance was not unobserved by the Indian tribes, 
 who appropriately named it the " Smoky Water ;" 
 by others it was styled the " Mad River? on ac- 
 count of the impetuosity of its current ; and in all 
 dialects it is called the "Mother of Floods? indica- 
 tive of the immense volume of its waters. Various 
 causes have been assigned for the turbid character 
 of the Missouri : and though, doubtless, heavily 
 charged by the volumes of sand thrown into its chan- 
 nel by the Yellow Stone its longest tributary, equal 
 to the Ohio and by the chalky clay of the White 
 River, yet we are told that it is characterized by the 
 same phenomenon from its very source. At the 
 gates of the Rocky Mountains, where, having torn
 
 THE FAR WEST. 251 
 
 for itself a channel through the everlasting hills, it 
 comes rushing out through the vast prairie-plains at 
 their base, it is the same dark, wild torrent as at its 
 turbid embouchure. And, strange to tell, after 
 roaming thousands of miles, and receiving into its 
 bosom streams equal to itself, and hundreds of less- 
 er, though powerful tributaries, it still retains, unal- 
 tered in depth or breadth, that volume which at last 
 it rolls into its mighty rival ! Torrent after torrent, 
 river after river, pour in their floods, yet the giant 
 stream rolls majestically onward unchanged ! At 
 the village of St. Charles its depth and breadth is 
 the same as at the Mandan Tillages, nearly two 
 thousand miles nearer its source. The same inex* 
 plicable phenomenon characterizes the Mississippi, 
 and, indeed, all the great rivers of the West ; for in- 
 explicable the circumstance yet remains, however 
 plausible the theories alleged in explanation. With 
 regard to the Missouri, it is urged that the porous, 
 sandy soil of its broad alluvions absorbs, on the prin- 
 ciple of capillary attraction, much of its volume, 
 conveying it by subterraneous channels to the Mis- 
 tissippi ; and of this latter stream it is asserted that 
 large quantities of its waters are taken up by the 
 innumerable bayous, lakes, and lagoons intersect- 
 ing the lower region of its course ; and thus, unper- 
 ceived, they find their way to the gulf. 
 
 The navigation of the Missouri is thought to be 
 the most hazardous and difficult of any of the West- 
 ern rivers, owing to its rnad> impetuous current, to 
 the innumerable obstructions in its bed, and the in- 
 cessant variation of its channel.* Insurance and pi- 
 
 * See Appendix.
 
 252 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 lotage upon this river are higher than on others ; 
 the season of navigation is briefer, and steamers 
 never pursue their course after dusk. Its vast 
 length and numerous tributaries render it liable, 
 also, to frequent floods, of which three are expected 
 every year. The chief of these takes place in the 
 month of June, when the heaped-up snows of the 
 Rocky Mountains are melted, and, having flowed 
 thousands of miles through the prairies, reach the 
 Mississippi. The ice and snows of the Alleghanies, 
 and the wild-rice lakes of the far Upper Mississippi, 
 months before have reached their destination, and 
 thus a general inundation, unavoidable had the floods 
 been simultaneous, is prevented by Providence. 
 The alluvions of the Missouri are said to be higher 
 than, and not so broad as, those of the Mississippi ; 
 yet their extent is constantly varying by the violence 
 of the current, even more than those of the latter 
 stream. Many years ago the flourishing town of 
 Franklin was completely torn away from its found- 
 ations, and its inhabitants were forced to flee to 
 the adjacent heights ; and the bottom opposite St. 
 Charles and at numerous other places has, within 
 the few years past, suffered astonishing changes. 
 Opposite the latter town now flow the waters of the 
 river where once stood farms and orchards. 
 
 The source of the Missouri and that of the Co- 
 lumbia, we are told, are in such immediate prox- 
 imity, that a walk of but a few miles will enable the 
 traveller to drink from the fountains of each. Yet 
 how unlike their destiny ! One passes off through 
 a region of boundless prairie equal in extent to a
 
 THE FAR WEST. 253 
 
 sixth of our globe ; and, after a thousand wander- 
 ings, disembogues its troubled waters into the Mexi- 
 can Gulf; the other, winding away towards the set- 
 ting sun, rolls on through forests untrodden by human 
 footstep till it sleeps in the Pacific Seas. Their 
 destinies reach their fulfilment at opposite extremes 
 of a continent ! How like, how very like are the 
 destinies of these far, lonely rivers to the destinies of 
 human life ! Those who, in the beautiful starlight 
 of our boyhood, were our schoolmates and playfel- 
 lows, where are they when our sun of ripened ma- 
 turity has reached its meridian ? and what, and 
 where are they and we, when evening's lengthening 
 shadows are gathering over the landscape of life ? 
 Our paths diverged but little at first, but mountains, 
 continents, half a world of waters may divide our 
 destinies, and opposite extremes of "the great 
 globe itself" witness their consummation. Yet, 
 like the floods of the far-winding rivers, the streams 
 of our existences will meet again, and mingle in the 
 ocean that ocean without a shore ETERNI- 
 TY > 
 
 The gates of the Rocky Mountains, through which 
 the waters of the Missouri rush forth into the prai- 
 ries of the great Valley, are described as one of the 
 sublimest spectacles in nature. Conceive the floods 
 of a powerful mountain-torrent compressed in mid 
 career into a width of less than one hundred and 
 fifty yards, rushing with the speed of "the wild 
 horse's wilder sire" through a chasm whose vast 
 walls of Nature's own masonry rear themselves on 
 either side from the raging waters to the precipitous 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 254 THE FAR WEST. 
 
 height of twelve hundred perpendicular feet; and 
 then consider if imagination can compass a scene 
 of darker, more terrible sublimity ! And then 
 sweep onward with the current, and within one 
 hundred miles you behold a cataract, next to Niag- 
 ara, from all description grandest in the world. 
 Such are some of the mighty features of the stream 
 upon which I was now standing. 
 
 As to the much disputed question which of the 
 great streams of the West is entitled to the name 
 of the Main River, I shall content myself with a 
 brief statement of the arguments alleged in support 
 of the pretensions of either claimant. The volume 
 of the Missouri at the confluence far exceeds that 
 of its rival ; the length of its course and the number 
 and magnitude of its tributaries are also greater, and 
 it imparts a character to the united streams. On the 
 other hand, the Mississippi, geographically and geo- 
 logically considered, is the grand Central River of the 
 continent, maintaining an undeviating course from 
 north to south; the valley which it drains is far 
 more extensive and fertile than that of the Missouri ; 
 and from the circumstance of having first been ex- 
 plored, it has given a name to the great river of the 
 Western Valley which it will probably ever retain, 
 whatever the right. " Sed non nostrum tantas 
 componere lites" 
 
 St. Charles, Mo.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 A. Page 20. 
 LOUISVILLE AND PORTLAND CANAL. ^ 
 
 IN 1804 the Legislature of Kentucky incorporated a company to> 
 cut a canal around the falls. Nothing effectual, however, beyond 
 surveys, was done until 1825, when on the 12th of January of that 
 year the Louisville and Portland Canal Company was incorporated 
 by an act of the legislature, with a capital of $600,000, in shares 
 of 8100 each, with perpetual succession. 3665 of the shares of 
 the company are in the hands of individuals, about seventy in 
 number, residing in the following stated : New- Hampshire, Mas- 
 sachusetts, New- York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Ohio, Kentucky, 
 and Missouri, and 2335 shares belong to the government of the 
 United States. 
 
 In December, 1825, contracts were entered into to complete 
 the work of this canal within two years, for about $375,000, and 
 under these contracts the work was commenced in March, 1826. 
 Many unforeseen difficulties retarded the work until the close of 
 the year 1828. At this time the contractors failed ; new contracts 
 were made at advanced prices, and the canal was finally opened 
 for navigation December 5th, 1830. When completed it cost 
 about $750,000. Owing to the advanced season at which it was 
 opened, the deposites of alluvial earth at the lower extremity of 
 the canal, or debouchure, could not be removed ; and also from 
 the action of the floods during the succeeding severe winter on 
 the stones that had been temporarily deposited on the sides of the 
 canal, causing them to be precipitated into the canal, it was not 
 used to the extent that it otherwise would have been. During the 
 year 1831, 406 steamboats, 46 keelboats, and 357 flatboats, meas- 
 uring 76,323 tons, passed through the locks, which are about one 
 fourth the number that would have passed if all the obstructions 
 had been removed. 
 
 The Louisville and Portland Canal is about two miles in length ; 
 is intended for steamboats of the largest class, and to overcome a 
 fall of 24 feet, occasioned by an irregular ledge of limerock, 
 through which the entire bed of the canal is excavated, a part of it, 
 to the depth of 12 feet, is overlaid with earth. There is one guard 
 and three lift locks combined, all of which have their foundation 
 an the rock. One bridge o^stone 240 feet long, with an elevation
 
 256 APPENDIX. 
 
 of 68 feet to top of the parapet wall, and three arches, the centre 
 one of which is semi-elliptical, with a transverse diameter of 66, 
 and a semi-conjugate diameter of 22 feet. The two side arches 
 are segments of 40 feet span. The guard lock is 190 feet long in 
 the clear, with semicircular heads of 26 feet in diameter, 50 feet 
 wide, and 42 feet high, and contains 21,775 perches of mason- 
 work. The solid contents of this lock are equal to 15 common 
 locks, such as are built on the Ohio and New- York canals. The 
 lift locks are of the same width with the guard lock, 20 feet high, 
 and 183 feet long in the clear, and contain 12,300 perches of 
 mason-work. The entire length of the walls, from the head of the 
 guard lock to the end of the outlet lock, is 921 feet. In addition 
 to the amount of mason-work above, there are three culverts to 
 drain off the water from the adjacent lands, the mason- work of 
 which, when added to the locks and bridge, give the whole 
 amount of mason-work 41,989 perches, equal to about 30 common 
 canal locks. The cross section of the canal is 200 feet at top of 
 banks, 50 feet at bottom, and 42 feet high, having a capacity equal 
 to that of 25 common canals ; and if we keep in view the unequal 
 quantity of mason-work compared to the length of the canal, the 
 great difficulties of excavating earth and rock from so great a 
 depth and width, together with the contingencies attending its con- 
 struction from the fluctuations of the Ohio River, it may not be 
 considered as extravagant in drawing the comparison between the 
 work in this and in that of 70 or 75 miles of common canalling. 
 
 In the upper sections of the canal, the alluvial earth to the aver- 
 age depth of twenty feet being removed, trunks of trees were 
 found more or less decayed, and so imbedded as to indicate a pow- 
 erful current towards the present shore, some of which were cedar, 
 which is not now found in this region. Several fireplaces of a 
 rude construction, with partially burnt wood, were discovered near 
 the rock, as well as the bones of a variety of small animals and 
 several human skeletons ; rude implements formed of bone and 
 stone were frequently seen, as also several well-wrought specimens 
 of hematite of iron, in the shape of plummets or sinkers, displaying 
 a knowledge in the arts far in advance of the present race of In- 
 dians. 
 
 The first stratum of rock was a light, friable slate, in close con- 
 tact with the limestone, and difficult to disengage from it ; this 
 slate did not, however, extend over the whole surface of the rock, 
 and was of various thicknesses, from three inches to four feet. 
 
 The stratum next to the slate was a close, compact limestone, 
 in which petrified seashells and an infinite variety of coralline 
 formations were imbedded, and frequent cavities of crystalline in- 
 crustations were seen, many of which still contained petroleum of 
 a highly fetid smell, which gives the name to this description of 
 limestone. This description of rock is on an average of five feet, 
 covering a substratum of a species of cias limestone of a bluish 
 colour, imbedding nodules of hornstone and organic remains. The 
 fracture of this stone has in all instances been found to Le iriegu-
 
 APPENDIX. 257 
 
 larly conchoidal, and on exposure to the atmosphere and subjection 
 to fire, it crumbles to pieces. When burnt and ground, and mixed 
 with a due proportion of silicious sand, it has been found to make 
 a most superior kind of hydraulic cement or water-lime. 
 
 The discovery of this valuable limestone has enabled the canal 
 company to construct their masonry more solidly than any other 
 known in the United States. 
 
 A manufactory of this hydraulic cement or water-lime is now 
 established on the bank of the canal, on a scale capable of supplying 
 the United States with this much-valued material for all works in 
 contact with water or exposed to moisture ; the nature of this ce- 
 ment being to harden in the water ; the grout used on the locks 
 of the canal is already harder than the stone used in their con- 
 struction. 
 
 After passing through the stratum which was commonly called 
 the water-lime, about ten feet in thickness, the workmen came to 
 a more compact mass of primitive gray limestone, which, however, 
 was not penetrated to any great depth. In many parts of the ex- 
 cavation masses of a bluish white flint and hornstone were found en- 
 closed in or incrusting the fetid limestone. And from the large quan- 
 tities of arrow-heads and other rude formations of this flint stone, 
 it is evident that it was made much use of by the Indians in form- 
 ing their weapons for war and hunting ; in one place a magazine 
 of arrow-heads was discovered, containing many hundreds of these 
 rude implements, carefully packed together and buried below the 
 surface of the ground. 
 
 The existence of iron ore in considerable quantities was exhib- 
 ited in the progress of the excavation of the canal, by numerous 
 highly-charged chalybeate springs that gushed out, and continued 
 to flow during the time that the rock was exposed, chiefly in the 
 apper strata of limestone. Louisville Directory for 1835. 
 
 B. Page 46. 
 
 Since the remarks relative to " the remarkable cavern in the vi- 
 cinity of Tower Rock, and not far from Hurricane Island," were 
 in type, the subjoined notice of a similar cave, probably the same 
 referred to, has casually fallen under my observation. The reader 
 will recognise in this description the outlines of Rock-Inn-Cave, 
 previously noticed. It is not a little singular that none of our 
 party, which was a numerous one, observed the " hieroglyphics'* 
 here alluded to. The passage is from Priest's " American Anti- 
 quities. 1 ' 
 
 " A Cavern of the West, in which are found many interesting 
 Hieroglyphics, supposed to have been made by the Ancient Inhabi- 
 tants. 
 
 " On the Ohio, twenty miles below the mouth of the Wabash, is 
 a cavern in which are found many hieroglyphics and representa- 
 tions of such delineations as would induce the belief that their 
 authors were indeed comparatively refined and civilized. It is a 
 cave in a rock, or ledge of thV mountain, which presents itself to 
 
 Y 2
 
 258 APPENDIX. 
 
 view a little above the water of the river when in flood, and is 
 situated close to the bank. In the early settlement of Ohio this 
 cave became possessed by a party of Kentuckians called ' Wilson's 
 Gang.' Wilson, in the first place, brought his family to this 
 cave, and fitted it up as a spacious dwelling ; erected a signpost 
 on the water side, on which were these words : ' Wilson's Liquor 
 Vault and House of Entertainment.' The novelty of such a tav- 
 ern induced almost all the boats descending the river to call for 
 refreshments and amusement. Attracted by these circumstances, 
 several idle characters took up their abode at the cave, after which 
 it continually resounded with the shouts of the licentious, the 
 clamour of the riotous, and the blasphemy of gamblers. Out of 
 such customers Wilson found no difficulty in forming a band of 
 robbers, with whom he formed the plan of murdering the crews of 
 every boat that stopped at his tavern, and of sending the boats, 
 manned by some of his party, to New-Orleans, and there sell their 
 loading for cash, which was to be conveyed to the cave by land 
 through the States of Tennessee and Kentucky ; the party re- 
 turning with it being instructed to murder and rob on all good oc- 
 casions on the road. 
 
 " After a lapse of time the merchants of the upper country began 
 to be alarmed on finding their property make no returns, and their 
 people never coming back. Several families and respectable men 
 who had gone down the river were never heard of, and the losses 
 became so frequent that it raised, at length, a cry of individual dis- 
 tress and general dismay. This naturally led to an inquiry, and 
 large rewards were offered for the discovery of the perpetrators of 
 such unparalleled crimes. It soon came out that Wilson, with an 
 organized party of forty-five men, was the cause of such waste of 
 blood and treasure ; that he had a station at Hurricane Island to ar- 
 rest every boat that passed by the mouth of the cavern, and that 
 he had agents at Natchez and New-Orleans, of presumed respecta- 
 bility, who converted his assignments into cash, though they knew 
 the goods to be stolen or obtained by the commission of murder. 
 
 " The publicity of Wilson's transactions soon broke up his party ; 
 some dispersed, others were taken prisoners, and he himself was 
 killed by one of his associates, who was tempted by the reward 
 offered for the head of the captain of the gang. 
 
 " This cavern measures about twelve rods in length and five in 
 width ; its entrance presents a width of eighty feet at its base and 
 twenty-five feet high. The interior walls are smooth rock. The 
 floor is very remarkable, being level through the whole length of 
 its centre, the sides rising in stony grades, in the manner of seats 
 in the pit of a theatre. On a diligent scrutiny of the walls, it is 
 plainly discerned that the ancient inhabitants at a very remote pe- 
 riod had made use of the cave as a house of deliberation and coun- 
 cil. The walls bear many hieroglyphics, well executed, and some 
 of them represent animals which have no resemblance to any now 
 known to natural history. 
 
 44 This cavern is a great natural c^Tiosity, as it is connected with
 
 APPENDIX. 259 
 
 another still more gloomy, which is situated exactly above, united 
 by an aperture of about fourteen feet, which, to ascend, is like 
 passing up a chimney, while the mountain is yet far above. Not 
 long after the dispersion and arrest of the robbers who had infested 
 it, in the upper vault were found the skeletons of about sixty per- 
 sons, who had been murdered by the gang of Wilson, as was sup- 
 posed. 
 
 " But the tokens of antiquity are still more curious and important 
 than a description of the mere cave, which are found engraved on 
 the sides within, an account of which we proceed to give : 
 
 " The sun in different stages of rise and declension ; the moon 
 under various phases ; a snake biting its tail, and representing an 
 orb or circle ; a viper ; a vulture ; buzzards tearing out the heart 
 of a prostrate man ; a panther held by the ears by a child ; a croc- 
 odile ; several trees and shrubs ; a fox ; a curious kind of hydra 
 serpent ; two doves ; several bears ; two scorpions ; an eagle ; 
 an owl ; some quails ; eight representations of animals which are 
 now unknown. Three out of the eight are like the elephant in all 
 respects except the tusk and the tail. Two more resemble the 
 tiger ; one a wild boar ; another a sloth ; and the last appears a 
 creature of fancy, being a quadruman instead of a quadruped ; 
 the claws being alike before and behind, and in the act of convey- 
 ing something to the mouth, which lay in the centre of the mon- 
 ster. Besides these were several fine representations of men and 
 women, not naked, but clothed ; not as the Indians, but much in. 
 the costume of Greece and Rome." 
 
 C. Page 75. 
 
 The following extract from the Journal of Charlevoix, one of the 
 earliest historians of the West, with reference to the Mines upon 
 the Merrimac, may prove not uninteresting. The work is a rare 
 one. 
 
 " On the 17th (Get., 1721), after sailing five leagues farther, I 
 left, on my right, the river Marameg, where they are at present 
 employed in searching for a silver mine. Perhaps your grace may 
 not be displeased if I inform you what success may be expected 
 from this undertaking. Here follows what I have been able to col- 
 lect about this affair, from a person who is well acquainted with it> 
 and who has resided for several years on the spot. 
 
 " In the year 1719, the Sieur de Lochon, being sent by the 
 West India Company, in quality of founder, and having dug in a 
 place which had been marked out to him, drew up a pretty large 
 quantity of ore, a pound whereof, which took up four days in smelt- 
 ing, produced, as they say, two drachms of silver ; but some have 
 suspected him of putting in this quantity himself. A few months 
 afterward he returned thither, and, without thinking any more of 
 the silver, he extracted from two or three thousand weight of ore 
 fourteen pounds of very bad lead, which stood him in fourteen 
 hundred francs. Disgusted with a labour which was so unprofita- 
 ble, he returned to France. \
 
 260 APPENDIX. 
 
 " The company, persuaded of the truth of the indications which 
 had been given them, and that the incapacity of the founder had 
 been the sole cause of their bad success, sent, in his room, a Span- 
 iard called Antonio, who had been taken at the siege of Pensacola ; 
 had afterward been a galley-slave, and boasted much of his having 
 wrought in a mine at Mexico. They gave him very considerable 
 appointments, but he succeeded no better than had done the Sieur 
 de Lochon. He was not discouraged himself, and others inclined 
 to believe that he had failed from his not being versed in the con- 
 struction of furnaces. He gave over the search after lead, and 
 undertook to make silver ; he dug down to the rock, which was 
 found to be eight or ten feet in thickness ; several pieces of it 
 were blown up and put into a crucible, from whence it was given 
 out that he extracted three or four drachms of silver ; but many 
 are still doubtful of the truth of this fact. 
 
 " About this time arrived a company of the king's miners, under 
 the direction of one La Renaudiere, who, resolving to begin with 
 the lead mines, was able to do nothing ; because neither he him- 
 self nor any of his company were in the least acquainted with the 
 construction of furnaces. Nothing can be more surprising than the 
 facility with which the company at that time exposed themselves 
 to great expenses, and the little precaution they took to be satis- 
 fied of the capacity of those they employed. La Renaudiere and 
 his miners not being able to procure any lead, a private company 
 undertook the mines of the Marameg, and Sieur Renault, one of 
 the directors, superintended them with care. In the month of 
 June last he found a bed of lead ore two feet in thickness, run- 
 ning to a great length over a chain of mountains, where he has 
 now set his people to work. He flatters himself that there is silver 
 below the lead. Everybody is not of his opinion, but time wilt 
 discover the truth." 
 
 D. Page 81. 
 
 " That the Mississippi, the Missouri, and, indeed, most of the 
 great rivers of the West, are annually enlarging, as progress is 
 made in clearing and cultivating the regions drained by them, 
 scarcely admits a doubt. Within the past thirty years, the width 
 of the Mississippi has sensibly increased ; its overflows are more 
 frequent, while, by the diminution of obstructions, it would seem 
 not to have become proportionally shallow. In 1750, the French 
 settlements began upon the river above New-Orleans, and for 
 twenty years the banks were cultivated without a levee. Inunda- 
 tion was then of rare occurrence : ever since, from year to year, 
 the river has continued to rise, and require higher and stronger 
 embankments. A century hence, if this phenomenon continues, 
 what a magnificent spectacle will not this river present ! How 
 terrific its freshets ! The immense forest of timber which lies 
 concealed beneath its depths, as evinced by the great earthquakes of 
 1811, demonstrates that, for centuries', the Mississippi has occu- 
 pied its present bed. M
 
 APPENDIX. 261 
 
 E. Page 119. 
 
 With reference to the human footprints in the rock at St. Louis, 
 I hve given the local tradition. Schoolcraft's detailed description, 
 which I subjoin, varies from this somewhat. The print of a hu- 
 man foot is said to have been discovered, also, in the limestone at 
 Herculaneum. Morse, in his Universal Geography, tells us of the 
 tracks of an army of men and horses on a certain mountain in the 
 State of Tennessee, fitly named the Enchanted Mountain. 
 
 " Before leaving Harmony, our attention was particularly direct- 
 ed to a tabular mass of limestone, containing two apparent prints 
 or impressions of the naked human foot. This stone was carefully 
 preserved in an open area, upon the premises of Mr. Rappe, by whom 
 it had previously been conveyed from the banks of the Mississippi, 
 at St. Louis. The impressions are, to all appearance, those of a 
 man standing in an erect posture, with the left foot a little ad- 
 vanced and the heels drawn in. The distance between the heels, 
 by accurate measurement, is six and a quarter inches, and between 
 the extremities of the toes thirteen and a half. But, by a close 
 inspection, it will be perceived that these are not the impressions 
 of feet accustomed to the European shoe ; the toes being much 
 spread, and the foot flattened, in the manner that is observed in 
 persons unaccustomed to the close shoe. The probability, there- 
 fore, of their having been imparted by some individual of a race of 
 men who were strangers to the art of tanning skins, and at a period 
 much anterior to that to which any traditions of the present race of 
 Indians reaches, derives additional weight from this peculiar shape 
 of the feet. 
 
 "In other respects, the impressions are strikingly natural, ex- 
 hibiting the muscular marks of the foot with great precision and 
 faithfulness to nature. This circumstance weakens very much 
 the supposition that they may, possibly, be specimens of antique 
 sculpture, executed by any former race of men inhabiting this con- 
 tinent. Neither history nor tradition has preserved the slightest 
 traces of such a people. For it must be recollected that, as yet, 
 we have no evidence that the people who erected our stupendous 
 Western tumuli possessed any knowledge of masonry, far less of 
 sculpture, or that they had even invented a chisel, a knife, or an 
 axe, other than those of porphyry, hornstone, or obsidian. 
 
 " The average length of the human foot in the male subject may, 
 perhaps, be assumed at ten inches. The length of each foot, in 
 our subject, is ten and a quarter inches : the breadth, taken across 
 the toes, at right angles to the former line, four inches ; but the 
 greatest spread of the toes is four and a half inches, which dimin- 
 ishes to two and a half at the heel. Directly before the prints, 
 and approaching within a few inches of the left foot, is a well-im- 
 pressed and deep mark, having some resemblance to a scroll, whose 
 greatest length is two feet seven inches, and greatest breadth 
 twelve and a half inches. 
 
 " The rock containing thesV interesting impressions is a compact 
 limestone of a grayish-blue c >our. It was originally quarried on
 
 262 APPENDIX. 
 
 the left bank of the Mississippi at St. Louis, and is a part of the ex- 
 tensive range of calcareous rocks upon which that town is built. It 
 contains very perfect remains of the encrinite, echinite, and some 
 other fossil species. The rock is firm and well consolidated, as 
 much so as any part of the stratum. A specimen of this rock, now 
 before us, has a decidedly sparry texture, and embraces a mass of 
 black blende. This rock is extensively used as a building material 
 at St. Louis. On parting with its carbonic acid and water, it be- 
 comes beautifully white, yielding an excellent quicklime. Found- 
 ations of private dwellings at St. Louis, and the military works 
 erected by the French and Spaniards from this material sixty 
 years ago, are still as solid and unbroken as when first laid. We 
 cite these facts as evincing the compactness and durability of the 
 stone points which must essentially affect any conclusions to be 
 drawn from the prints we have mentioned, and upon which, there- 
 fore, we are solicitous to express our decided opinion." 
 
 F. Page 213. 
 
 " In the year 1538, Ferdinand de Soto, with a commission from 
 the Emperor Charles V., sailed with a considerable fleet for Amer- 
 ica. He was a Portuguese gentleman, and had been with Pizarro 
 in the conquest (as it is called) of Peru. His commission consti- 
 tuted him governor of Cuba and general of Florida. Although he 
 sailed from St. Lucar in 1538, he did not land in Florida* until 
 May, 1539. With about 1000 men, 213 of whom were provided 
 with horses, he undertook the conquest of Florida and countries ad- 
 jacent. After cutting their way in various directions through 
 numerous tribes of Indians, traversing nearly 1000 miles of country, 
 losing a great part of their army, their general died upon the banks 
 of the Mississippi, and the survivers were obliged to build vessels 
 in which to descend the river ; which, when they had done, they 
 sailed for Mexico. This expedition was five years in coming to 
 nothing, and bringing ruin upon its performers. A populous In- 
 dian town at this time stood at or near the mouth of the Mobile, of 
 which Soto's army had possessed themselves. Their intercourse 
 with the Indians was at first friendly, but at length a chief was in- 
 sulted, which brought on hostilities. A battle was fought, in which> 
 it is said, 2000 Indians were killed and 83 Spaniards." [Drake's 
 Book of the Indians, b. iv., c. 3.] 
 
 G. Page 213. 
 
 " After a long and fatiguing journey through a mountainous wilder- 
 ness, in a westward direction, I at last, from the top of an eminence, 
 saw with pleasure the beautiful land of Kentucky. * * * It was 
 in June ; and at the close of day the gentle gales retired, and left 
 the place to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze shook 
 the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a command- 
 
 * " So called, because it was first discovf red by the Spaniards on Palm-Sun- 
 day, or, as the most interpret, Easter-day, T hich they call Pasqua- Florida, and 
 not, as Thenet writeth, for the flourishingVerdure thereof." Purchas, p. 7S&;
 
 APPENDIX. 263 
 
 ing ridge, and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld the 
 ample plains, the beauteous tracts below. * * * Nature was here 
 a series of wonders and a fund of delight. Here she displayed her 
 ingenuity and industry in a variety of flowers and fruits, beautifully 
 coloured, elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavoured ; and I was 
 diverted with innumerable animals presenting themselves continually 
 before my view. * * * The buffaloes were more frequent than I 
 have seen cattle in the settlements, browsing on the leaves of the 
 cane, or cropping the herbage on these extensive plains, fearless 
 because ignorant of man." [Narrative of Colonel Daniel Boone, 
 from his first arrival in Kentucky in 1769, to the year 1782.] 
 
 H. Page 251. 
 
 The following extract from a letter dated September, 1819, ad- 
 dressed by Mr. Austin to Mr. Schoolcraft, respecting the naviga- 
 tion of the Missouri, well portrays the impetuous character of that 
 river. It shows, too, the great improvements in the steam-engine 
 during the past twenty years. 
 
 " I regret to state that the expedition up the Missouri to the 
 Yellow Stone has in part failed. The steamboats destined for 
 the Upper Missouri, after labouring against the current for a num- 
 ber of weeks, were obliged to give up the enterprise. Every ex- 
 ertion has been made to overcome the difficulty of navigating the 
 Missouri with the power of steam ; but all will not do. The cur- 
 rent of that river, from the immense quantity of sand moving down 
 with the water, is too powerful for any boat yet constructed. The 
 loss either to the government or to the contractor will be very 
 great. Small steamboats of fifty tons burden, with proper engines, 
 would, I think, have done much better. Boats like those employed, 
 of twenty to thirty feet beam, and six to eight feet draught of wa- 
 ter, must have uncommon power to be propelled up a river, every 
 pint of whose water is equal in weight to a quart of Ohio water, 
 and moves with a velocity hardly credible. The barges fixed to 
 move with wheels, worked by men, have answered every expecta- 
 tion ; but they will only do when troops are on board, and the men 
 can be changed every hour." - 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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