Travels in the Interior of North America, in the Years 1832, 1833, and 1834 (part 1)

[PART I]

CHAPTER I

VOYAGE TO BOSTON, STAY IN THAT CITY, AND JOURNEY TO NEW YORK, FROM MAY 17TH TO JULY 9TH, 1832

Voyage—Boston—Festival of Independence—The American inns—Charlestown—Monument on Bunker's Hill—Cambridge—New England Museum—Pawtucket—Providence—Embark on board the Boston—Voyage to New York—Fine view of that city.

Voyages to North America are become everyday occurrences, and little more is to be related of them than that you met and saluted ships, had fine or stormy weather, and the like; here, therefore, we shall merely say that our party embarked at Helvoetsluys, on board an American ship, on the 17th of May, in the evening, and on the 24th saw Land's End, Cornwall, vanish in the misty distance, and bade farewell to Europe.

Even when we were in latitude 48° 40′, and for several days afterwards, we had very unfavourable weather and violent storms, which were succeeded, on the 10th of June, by calms. On such days, shoals of dolphins crowded round the ship, and some men got on the bowsprit to throw the harpoon at them. The mate was at length so fortunate as to drive his harpoon through the body of one of these monsters of the deep, an event which was hailed with loud cheers. By the aid of several sailors the heavy prey was drawn upon deck. The animal, after it was wounded, made desperate efforts to free itself, and the harpoon had nearly given way, when the fish was secured by a rope thrown under the pectoral fins.

2 On the following day we had some of the flesh dressed as steaks, which we found to be very good; indeed, we preferred them to all other meat. I did not know, at that time, that I should soon find dog's flesh relishing! It is necessary to remove the blubber immediately; because, if this precaution be neglected, the flesh contracts a taste of train oil. The liver in particular is excellent.

On the same day we were to the south of the bank of Newfoundland, and, therefore, steered in nearly a northerly direction. On the 19th we were in a thick fog. White and other petrels flew round us, with some gulls, and birds resembling sea swallows, with a forked tail. We sounded, but found no bottom. On the 20th, however, we were on the bank, where, at half-past eight in the morning, the temperature of the air was +5¼° Reaumur, and that of the water, +2¾°. At two in the afternoon, with thick fog, the temperature of the air was +8°; that of the water, +4°. We then had a calm, and sounded in thirty-five fathoms. Large whales and flocks of sea-birds showed that we were on the bank. A hook and line being thrown out, we caught a fine cod, from whose stomach clams were taken, which served as a bait for other fish. We were on the middle of the lower point of the great bank, when large dolphins, quite black, called by the Americans blackfish, swam rapidly past in long lines, alternating with porpoises, which threw up white foam as they leaped and tumbled on the waves. A diver was shot while swimming, and flocks of black petrels hovered round us. A dead calm succeeding, a boat was put out to give chase to the latter. Fat was thrown out to entice the birds, and many of the little black petrel, (Procellaria Pelagica), were shot, and also some of the birds, called by Charles Bonaparte, Thalassidroma Wilsonii, which very nearly resemble each other in colour, as well as in shape. A snow white gull (probably Larus eburneus) flew about the ship. On the 26th of June, we had been just forty days at sea, and at noon were off the lower part of Sable Island bank, in fifty-five fathoms, but did not see the island itself. We steered towards Nova Scotia, but the wind soon forced us in a southerly direction. We had many indications of the vicinity of land, and from this time we proceeded more satisfactorily, till the 3rd of July, at noon, when, to the joy of all, we descried land. Cape Cod Bay lay to the south of us, about fifteen miles distant. It showed low sandhills, with dark bushes on them. About two o'clock we could distinguish a lighthouse of moderate height, with a wind-mill, and several other buildings. As the wind was unfavourable, we were obliged to tack often, in order to sail into the great bay of Massachusetts, which we did in the finest and most lovely weather. The cool of the evening had succeeded the heat of the day; the dark blue mirror of the sea shone around us, moved only by a gentle breeze, while a few white or dark brown sails hastened to the coast, which was already veiled in the evening mist.

Sublime repose prevailed in this extensive and grand scene, our ship alone was in a state of activity. Various preparations were made for the approaching landing, while we Europeans looked eagerly at the distance. I had hoped in vain for a sight of the famous sea serpent; it 3 would not shew itself. I had, in the sequel, opportunities to speak with several American naturalists on the subject, but they all looked upon the story as a fable.

The moon rose in the utmost splendour, and lighted up the unagitated surface of the sea, and the fishing-boats which lay at anchor. Before midnight we saw Boston lighthouse, and soon afterwards several other such lights on the coast, which are a most welcome sight, and increase the impatience of the stranger in a remote quarter of the globe.

The following day (4th of July), on which I landed for the second time in the New World, was the anniversary of the day on which America proclaimed its independence. Early in the morning, the salutes of artillery resounded from the coasts, which we now saw clearly before us. In the centre, in the direction of the city of Boston, was the white lighthouse, with its black roof, on a small rocky island, and around it several little picturesque islands, partly of white sand, with plots of grass; partly rocks, which adorn the beautiful bay. At a distance we saw some low mountains, the coast covered with numerous villages, obscured by the smoke of the gunpowder, and numbers of ships and boats sailing in every direction, all adorned with gay flags in honour of the day. We passed in succession several islands, the lighthouse, the telegraph, and drew nearer and nearer to the coast of the Continent, diversified with gentle eminences covered with corn, or beautifully green as in England: and here and there, in the bays and inlets, adorned with lofty trees. These coasts, with the numerous white buildings of the towns and villages, presented a most charming scene in the splendour of the morning sun. At length the long-expected pilot came on board, and in the bay, on our right, we saw the city of Boston, and many steam-boats before it. The sea had no longer the blue colour, but the green tinge which it has on all coasts, and was covered with medusæ, and the leaves of the sea grass, which grows on these shores. The heat was very great, 18° in the shade, by Reaumur's thermometer, on board the ship, when we cast anchor at India Wharf, Boston, on the forty-eighth day of our voyage. The temperature in this oblong basin, which is surrounded with large magazines of naval stores, was by no means agreeable at the moment of our arrival; we, therefore, left the ship as soon as possible, and repaired to the Commercial Coffee House, where we took up our quarters.

Boston, an extensive city, with above 80,000 inhabitants, reminded me, at first sight, of one of the old English towns; but various differences soon appeared. The streets are partly long and broad, partly narrow and irregular, with good flag pavement for foot passengers; the buildings are of brick or stone; but in a great portion of the old town the houses are of wood; the roofs are, for the most part, covered with shingles; the chimneys resemble those in England, but do not seem to be so lofty; the dark colours of the buildings give the city, on the whole, a gloomy appearance. 4 There are many important buildings and churches, which have been described by numerous travellers. In the front of the houses there are frequently little plots of garden, next the street, in the English fashion, planted with tall, shady trees, and flowers. Strangers will immediately look for American plants, especially for those species of trees which are generally cultivated in Europe; but, instead of them, they will observe only European trees, such as Lombardy poplars, Babylonian willows, syringa hibiscus, chestnuts, elms, &c., and it was with much difficulty that I found some stems of the catalpa, which was just then on the point of flowering, and some other native trees. Besides the little grass plots, planted with flowers, in the front of the houses, there are, in Boston, many plantations and avenues of very tall and shady elms, which, like the same species in England, are remarkably vigorous and flourishing. Among these avenues, the principal is that called the Commons, where there were fireworks in the evening of the 4th of July.

Washington-street is looked upon as the finest and longest street in Boston; its length is nearly equal to that of the whole city. Here, as in the first cities of Europe, there are numerous fine and elegant shops, with the most costly articles; and the productions of the West Indies. Cocoa-nuts, oranges, bananas, &c., are nowhere to be found so fresh, and in such perfection as in the seaports of North America. On account of the celebration of this day, most of the shops were closed; but then the entire population seemed to throng the streets, and the gay crowd was very interesting to strangers, as it was not difficult to catch the general features. Though a great part of the Americans have much of the English stamp, there are, however, some essential differences. The peculiar character of the English countenance seems to have disappeared in America, in the strange climate; the men are of a slenderer make, and of taller stature; a general expression of the physiognomy seems to be wanting. The women are elegant, and have handsome features, but frequently a paleness, which does not indicate a salubrious climate, or a healthy judicious way of living. Straw hats, trimmed with black or green ribbons, were in general use. Cloth was much worn, and everything was according to the newest English and French fashions. Among the busy throng were a great number of negroes, who, in the Northern and Eastern States, have been made free. Not far from the public walks was a small narrow street, almost entirely inhabited by negroes and their hybrids. The stranger in Boston looks in vain for the original American race of the Indians. Instead of its former state of nature, this country now shows a mixture of all nations, which is rapidly proceeding in the unjustifiable expulsion and extirpation of the aborigines, which began on the arrival of the Europeans in the New World, and has unremittingly continued.

After we had enjoyed a hasty view of the city, we returned to our inn, where we had an opportunity of making ourselves acquainted with many new customs, differing from those of Europe. It must be confessed that the arrangements in the large and much frequented inns of 5 the great towns in the United States, are, in many respects, inferior to those of Europe. The rooms are very small, and all have beds in them: parlours, that is, rooms without beds, must be hired separately. The hours for meals are fixed—three times in the day; and the signal is usually given, two or three times, by ringing a bell. In general, a number of persons habitually take their meals in these inns; they besiege the house before the appointed time arrives, and, when the signal is given, they rush tumultuously into the eating-room; every one strives to get before the other, and, for the most part, the crowd of guests is far too great, in proportion to the number of the black attendants. Then every one takes possession of the dish that he can first lay his hands on, and in ten minutes all is consumed; in laconic silence the company rise from table, put on their hats, and the busy gentlemen hasten away, whom you see all the day long posted before the inns, or at the fire-side in the lower rooms, smoking cigars and reading the colossal newspapers. The hat, which the Americans seldom lay aside, except in the company of the women, is always taken off at table, which is certainly no small exertion in this land of perfect liberty, as Captain Morrell expresses it. Elegance of dress is far more common in America than in Europe; but then this is all that the gentleman in America cares about, when he has finished his mercantile business, read the newspaper, and performed his part in the government of the State. I have often been surprised at the crowd of idle gentlemen before and in the American inns, who spend the whole day in total inactivity; and these elegant loiterers are, in fact, a characteristic feature of these inns. Here, too, there is a peculiar arrangement, which many travellers have noticed, and which we do not meet with in ours—I mean the bar-room, where a man stationed behind the bar, mixes compounds, and sells all sorts of beverages, in which a quantity of ice and of freshly gathered peppermint leaves are employed. Very agreeable cooling liquors are here prepared, which the heat of the climate calls for. In the evening the European is surprised at being desired to pull off his shoes before a number of people in the bar-room, and to exchange them for slippers, which are piled up in large heaps. The attendance is, in general, indifferent. There are scarcely any white servants, or, at least, they are almost useless; all menial offices must be performed by blacks, who, though free people, are still held in contempt by the Americans, who so highly estimate the dignity of man, and form a rejected caste, like the Parias in India.

At the approach of evening, on the 4th of July, the whole population of Boston was in motion; but the streets were soon entirely deserted, and all the inhabitants had collected in the promenade, called the Commons. The sight was highly interesting. An extensive piece of ground, covered with green sward, stretches in a gentle slope to the water, and is surrounded by avenues of lofty, shady elms. Numerous paths cross each other in the centre, and here there is a gigantic elm, with a wide-spreading crown, measuring from thirty to forty paces in diameter. We regretted that the great crowd of people rendered it impossible to approach this fine tree, on 6 this busy evening. All Boston, rich and poor, was here assembled, in the most elegant dresses. Groups were sitting, or lying in the grass; rows of tables and little stalls were set out, where there was a real oyster feast, in which the people indulged to an extent that rendered the appearance of the tables anything but inviting. As it grew dark, there was a very indifferent display of fireworks, on the eminence, in honour of the day, the expense of which was defrayed by subscription. Several companies of city militia had previously paraded the streets; they are all volunteers, who equip themselves, and that in a very superior manner; but their uniforms are very gay and motley, as may be expected, where every one is left to follow his own taste. Each company, or troop, had a different uniform—one red, another blue, and, in part, richly embroidered with gold. There were very few men in a company. It seemed very strange that the musicians, who preceded them, were, for the most, in plain clothes of all colours, with round hats. "The Yankee-doodle," the favourite popular song of the Americans, was heard in different directions; and it is much to the credit of this motley assemblage, that there was no impropriety of conduct or unseemly noise. The effect of the light on the mixed crowd of whites and negroes was very interesting, and we enjoyed the scene till the coolness and damp of the night air made us retire to our inn.

On the following morning, the shops were opened, and Boston resumed its usual appearance of commercial activity. Our baggage was put on board a schooner bound to New York, to which city I wished to go by land. Our next excursion was to the monument on Bunker's Hill, from which there is the best view of the surrounding country.

Early in the morning we got into our carriages, and drove rapidly through the streets, refreshed by the cool morning breeze, where many wagons were arriving with the productions of the environs. We noticed vehicles of various descriptions, with four or two wheels, often with an awning of linen, or leather, open at the sides, and drawn by two or four horses. The drivers, generally in a white summer dress, with straw hats, sit on a bear skin, which is here worth eight or ten dollars. On the causeway, out of the city, the dust was troublesome, but a number of water-carts (like those used in the streets of London) were already preparing to water the road.

Boston is joined to the continent by a narrow tongue of land, at the two sides of which creeks, or bays run into the land. Over these creeks there are several long wooden bridges, made to draw up in the middle, one of which leads, in a north-west direction, to the neighbouring town of Charlestown; another, more to the south, to Cambridge, where there is a college, or university. All these places have been described by several travellers. We took the road through Charlestown, to the Navy Yard, close to which is the eminence on which the Bunker's Hill monument is erected. The hill is called Breed's Hill, and immediately beyond it is Bunker's Hill, where the English troops were posted during the battle fought in 1775. The Americans were repulsed, and lost their leader, who was a physician. The monument in memory of this action 7 has been begun on the foremost, or Breed's Hill. The granite (Quincy granite) employed in it is found in the neighbourhood, and is of a grey colour.

It was intended, originally, that this monument should be 210 feet high; it is now meant to be only 180 feet high. What is already done is a pyramid between fifty and sixty feet in height, which was covered with a temporary wooden roof. Withinside, a convenient stone staircase leads to the top, and from the small windows in the roof, there is an incomparable view over the city of Boston, Charlestown, the two inlets, the long bridges, the Bay of Boston, with its diversified islands, and the ships with their white swelling sails, coming from, and bound to, all parts of the world. Looking into the country, there is an alternation of verdant hills, numerous villages, and dark woods; the whole forming a highly picturesque landscape. Cattle were grazing near the monument, on the green hill; a well-dressed boy was employed in milking the cows.

From Bunker's Hill we went to Cambridge, and had, on this road, the first sight of an American landscape. Meadows, partly covered with arundinaceous plants, corn-fields, and European fruit trees, alternated with small thickets and groves. The apples that grow here are said to be yellow, and not particularly good; they are chiefly used to make cider. On almost all these fruit trees we saw caterpillars' nests of extraordinary size, they being often a foot and more in diameter. The butterfly which produces them must be in vast numbers, and it is surprising that more care is not taken to destroy them. The road was bordered with trees, as is generally the case here; we observed Celtis occidentalis, Lombardy poplars, partly lopped, and not growing to any great height. The thickets consisted of oaks, with various deeply indented leaves, in general of a beautiful shining green; different kinds of walnut, ash, and elm, which always attain a great height here, and, where they stand free, the stems are clothed with thick boughs down to the ground. The low thickets were of a bright green, and in adjacent meadows, which were partly marshy, grew plants, much resembling those of Europe, such as Ranunculus, Pyrethrum, several with white flowers of the genus Syngenesia; both a white clover and a red clover, common with us, seemed to be generally cultivated, as well as potatoes, corn, and maize. This part of the country has, on the whole, the European character—like England, for instance—but it is even now more wooded, and pines of different kinds give a variety: the population, too, is distributed in a different manner. In one of the nearest thickets, a little songster (Sylvia æstiva), and some other birds, reminded me that I was not in Europe, but on the borders of the northern part of the New World, and the beautiful Icterus Baltimore flew to the higher thickets; and I very well distinguished its black and bright red plumage. These new objects gave 8 us great pleasure, and we only regretted that we could not immediately pursue them. On the summit of the gentle eminences we came to Cambridge College, which is very agreeably situated on a verdant lawn, shaded with trees, and surrounded by avenues of elms, Weymouth pines, maples, ash, planes, and other shady trees. The buildings stand separately; and in all the gardens of the neat habitations, we observed, in general, European plants—the rose, syringa, hibiscus, and but few American plants, of which the trumpet tree was not then in blossom. My visit might have been very interesting if I had known that Mr. Nuttal, one of the most active naturalists and travellers in North America, held an office in this college.

On our return to Boston, we visited many of the curiosities of the city, which are enumerated in various works. Among them I mention only the New England Museum, as in part, at least, an institution for natural history, but where the expectation of the stranger is grievously disappointed. These museums, as they are styled, in all the larger cities of the United States, except, perhaps, the Peale Museum, at Philadelphia, are an accumulation of all sorts of curiosities, the selection of which is most extraordinary. Here we find specimens of natural history; stiff, awkward, wax figures; mathematical and other instruments, models, bad paintings and engravings, caricatures; nay, even the little prints out of our journals of the fashions, &c., hung up without any order. Among the animals there are some interesting specimens, but without any ticket or further direction. This collection was placed in several stories of a lofty house, in narrow passages, rooms, and closets, connected by many flights of steps; and to attract the public, a man played on the harpsichord during our visit—a concert which could have no great charms for us.

Boston, however, has much that is worthy of notice, and numerous excellent institutions, respecting which the many descriptive works may be consulted, which treat on the subject more in detail than a passing traveller can do. As my time was limited, I took places in a stage-coach that was to set out at noon for Providence, from Bunker's coach-office, at the Marlborough hotel. The establishment of stage-coaches, and the mode of travelling in this country, have been accurately described by Duke Bernhard of Saxe Weimar; I therefore merely say, that we went in a commodious stage, with nine seats inside, and four good horses, which carried us at a rapid pace from Boston to New Providence, forty-one miles distant, where we embarked for New York.

The causeway was a good, solid, broad road, paved in some places, and very dusty at this dry season; it led over low hills and plains. Near the city there is a great number of pretty, and some elegant country houses; and as they became less numerous, they were succeeded by the houses of the farmers and planters, which are spread over the whole country. All these farm-houses are slightly built, boarded, and roofed with shingles; often grey, of the natural colour of the wood; but many of those belonging to the richer class are neatly painted, and variously ornamented. The walls, even of large buildings of this kind, are extremely thin, and one would think they 9 must be too slight for the cold winters of this country. It seems quite inconceivable that, throughout the United States, you find only open fireplaces; and very rarely good stoves, against which the Americans are prejudiced, because they are not aware of their great superiority. The business of the occupant is painted on the house in large letters, as in England and France.

The road by which we travelled was often bounded by hedges, or by walls of blocks of granite, or other kinds of stone, on which plantain, elder, stagshorn, sumach, &c., were growing. In the low marshy meadows were willows, a kind of reed mace, cotton grass, rushes, and, in the water, adder's tongue. Near the road, the hills, which here and there gradually rise to a great elevation, are covered with shrubs and trees, among which we noticed some firs, mixed with the other trees.

Juniper trees, from fifteen to twenty feet high, grew in all these woods, partly as underwood. In the low grounds, near the road, we observed luxuriant tufts of various kinds of oak, walnut trees—some with large shining leaves, chestnuts, now in blossom, and many other kinds of trees cultivated in European gardens. Wild vines, with the under side of the leaves whitish, twine round many of the bushes; but, in these northern parts, they do not attain a great height. These thickets alternate with open tracts of land, where the peasants, tanned by the powerful American sun, wearing large straw hats, were busily employed in making hay.

However small and poor the dwellings, we still saw at the windows, and before the doors, the women, most elegantly and fashionably dressed, engaged in their household employments. In this land of freedom, nobody, of course, will allow his neighbour to have an advantage over him; hence we often see silk gowns, and the newest fashions of all kinds, in laughable contrast with the poor little habitations. Small country carts pass the traveller, in which, beside the owner, who drives, sits a country lady, handsomely attired, who looks like a copy of some journal des modes. The dress of the countrymen is, in general, not so fine, but is, in some degree, according to the man's circumstances.

We were much pleased with some thick forests of oak, with beautiful glossy (often deeply indented) leaves, of a great variety of forms. Forests, consisting wholly of the Weymouth pine, alternated with the oak. The trunks were large, but the height of the tree was not great in proportion. Among them there was always a number of dead trees; others had a quantity of bearded moss hanging on them; in a word, though so near to the habitations of man, and in a cultivated country, they had more of the wild character of unreclaimed nature than our European forests. In many places there were openings into dark forests, to a great distance; and, now and then, into lovely valleys, with a lake or a river, where the white buildings had a very picturesque appearance, contrasted with the dark woods and the green meadows. Mr. Bodmer, however, was not satisfied with all these landscapes: he had expected to find, at once, in America, forms differing from those of Europe; but these must be looked for under another zone; for, in 10 North America, the general character of the vegetation resembles that of Europe. In some parts, we remarked in the meadows large stones, something like those in Westphalia, or in the Westerwald, in Germany.

We changed horses at three places, at one of which we had dinner, which, as in England, was ready when the passengers arrived. The regulations here have an advantage over those in most parts of Europe, inasmuch as fees are nowhere given, so that you cannot be molested by the importunity of the driver: on the other hand, the coachman dines at the same table as the passengers. You are, however, pretty secure against the conversation of unpolished people, because the Americans are usually mute at table.

Towards evening we reached Pawtucket, a neat town on the river of the same name, in the state of Massachusetts. The place has manufactures of various kinds, and is animated by trade and industry. The river empties itself into Narraganset bay, and is said to have falls of fifty feet. We soon travelled the few miles from this place to Providence. The evening being fine, the journey was very pleasant: the road was full of stages, cabriolets, farmers' wagons, and smart country ladies, whose veils on their large fashionable hats waved in the wind; they were generally seated in little chaise carts, the seats of which were covered with bear skins.

At Providence, which we reached before night, we put up at Franklin House, a respectable inn. A crowd of idle gentlemen and other curious persons stared at us, and laughed in our faces, when they found, by our pronunciation, that we were foreigners. We had to pass some days here, waiting for the return of a steam-boat from New York; we therefore employed this interval in exploring the town and neighbourhood.

Providence is a busy town, the capital of the state of Rhode Island, and situated on an arm of the sea. It is built partly on sandy hills, partly on the low ground next the sea, has some good new streets, and a brisk trade, as appears from the many ships at anchor. There is no want of handsome shops, and several public buildings deserve notice; such as twelve churches, several colleges, and other public institutions, which I forbear to enumerate. In the churches the singular style of the architecture calls for censure:—they are of brick, with steeples variously ornamented, but often painted with glaring colours; for instance, the lower part reddish brown, with the frames of the windows and of the doors white; the upper part bright yellow with white. There is a considerable degree of luxury at Providence. The women appear in the streets in the most expensive dresses; and the country ladies (farmers' wives), whom I have so often mentioned, dressed in silk, and wearing large straw bonnets and veils, bring milk to market in little carts. This love of finery is quite a characteristic trait in the American people; but it is, at the same time, an indication of prosperity; for it is true that, in this country, there are neither poor nor beggars; and if you see people doing nothing, they are generally new comers from Europe. Negroes and their coloured descendants are more numerous here than in Boston and the northern parts.

11 The next day was Sunday, in the observance of which the Americans are very scrupulous. All the people, with their books under their arms, proceeded to the churches, the bells of which were very slowly tolled. The streets were quite still on this day, and all the shops closed; but, then, numerous carriages and cabriolets, filled with finely-dressed people, were in motion. We strolled about the surrounding country, which, in general, has a dead and rather sterile appearance. Here, too, we saw, almost exclusively, European trees and flowers in the gardens; there were, however, some peculiar to the country, among which the magnolia was now in blossom.

Intelligence had been received from New York that the cholera had broken out there, and that numbers of the inhabitants were leaving the city. On the arrival of the Boston steam-boat, the Captain confirmed this unwelcome news, which, however, did not deter us from embarking in this fine vessel for New York. On the 8th of July, in the afternoon, we went on board the steam-boat, which had above 100 passengers. The Boston was a large, handsome vessel, about the size of a frigate. It had three decks; in the lower part was the large dining and sleeping room, where above 100 persons were very well provided for. On the middle deck there was a cabin for the ladies, with twenty-four beds. The numerous attendants were negroes and mulattoes of both sexes, all free people. The vessel had two low-pressure engines, which are thought to be less dangerous than the high-pressure engines, though the Americans affirm the contrary. On the upper deck was a pavilion, with glass windows, in which, when the weather was unfavourable, the company could sit and enjoy the prospect.

When all the passengers were on board, one of the engines was set to work, and when we got further from shore, the other also. The low, sandy coast, partly covered with trees, where towns alternated with forests, quickly disappeared. The sky was dark and cloudy, and a cool, fresh breeze blew. We reached the strongly fortified town of Newport, where many small vessels lay at anchor. The place is distinguished by three forts, and other fortifications, and a lighthouse. When twilight set in we were already in sight of the open sea, which, however, remained visible for a short time only, because we steered to the right, into the channel between the continent and Long Island.

On the morning of the 9th of July, the sky was gloomy, and the sea much agitated. On our left we had the coast of Long Island, which, in general, is not high, but has some more elevated parts, with an alternation of sand, bushes, and brushwood. Some very picturesque and diversified inlets run into the land. The channel becomes gradually narrower, and the beauty of the landscape increases in the same proportion. One narrow place is called Hellgate: there are here many rocky islets covered with sumach bushes (Rhus typhinum). At length, turning round a point of the continent, a new and most picturesque scene presented itself. We were in what is called the East River, an arm of the sea, open towards New York, which is connected with the Hudson or North River, one of the most beautiful rivers in North America. At the conflux 12 of both, lies the city. The banks of the East River are like an English park, shaded by beautiful copses and groups of lofty trees: the ground was clothed with the brightest and most luxuriant verdure, with tall tulip trees, planes, Babylonian willows, Lombardy poplars, and many others, alternating with green meadows, where there are neat, and often elegant country-houses; and the eye is charmed by many fine prospects and a great diversity of scenery. Passing the Navy Yard, which is situated on a point of land, the great city of New York, with its innumerable masts, lies before you. As you approach and enter the broad and extensive piece of water formed by the conflux of the East and North Rivers, you see the whole mass of houses, with countless ships, which line both the banks to a considerable distance, with a forest of masts, to which few other cities can present a parallel. The steamer landed us at a spot where, notwithstanding the heavy rain, there was a great crowd of people collected. Porters, black workmen, and coachmen in abundance, with loud cries, and much importunity, offered their services; and we immediately proceeded to the American Hotel, a considerable inn, in one of the handsomest squares in the city.

CHAPTER II

STAY IN NEW YORK, PHILADELPHIA, AND BORDENTOWN, FROM 9TH TO 16TH JULY

New York—Bloomingdale—Hoboken—New Brunswick—Trenton—Bordentown—Philadelphia—Fair Mount, with the water-works—Stay at Bordentown—Park of the Count de Survilliers—Excursions in the forests—Return to Philadelphia.

New York is but little inferior to the capital cities of Europe, with the exception of London and Paris. It has, at present, 220,000 inhabitants, and its commerce is so extensive, animated, and active, that, in this respect, it is scarcely surpassed by any. There are so many descriptions of this great city, that to say much on the subject would be merely repetition. The first impression that it made on me was very striking, on account of the beauty of its situation. In the interior the style of building resembles that of many English cities. It has one remarkably fine street, called the Broadway, which traverses its whole length; other parts are old, and not so handsome. In the Broadway, which is the favourite resort of the fashionable world, is an uninterrupted line of shops, but little inferior to those of London and Paris. The city is extremely animated, and people of all nations carry on business here. We were assured that the population had been diminished, in a few days, by the emigration of 20,000 of the inhabitants, who had fled to other towns for fear of the cholera. It is well known that this lamentable disease had been very fatal in Canada, and had now penetrated into the Northern States of the Union: it was raging in Albany, on the Hudson, at Detroit, and on the great lakes, so that it seemed as if it would defeat our project of beginning our journey to the interior by that route. This had been my plan, in which the recommendations of our worthy countryman, Mr. Astor, would have been of great service, as he is the founder and head of the American Fur Company, which has spread its trading stations over the whole of the interior of North America. I formed numerous interesting acquaintances, in a short time, in New York. Several estimable fellow-countrymen, Messrs. Gebhard and Schuchart, and Mr. Iselin, did their utmost to afford us their counsel and assistance. Mr. Schmidt, the Prussian consul, contributed not a little to make our stay in this city agreeable; and so did Mr. Meier and other of our German friends. Mr. Schmidt has a country-house at Bloomingdale, 14 where we passed some very pleasant days in the circle of his amiable family. Mrs. Schmidt, an American lady, had visited Europe and travelled in Germany, and remembered, with pleasure, the banks of the Rhine.

The house at which Mr. Schmidt resides in the summer, is charmingly situated on the banks of that picturesque river, the Hudson, seven miles from the town. The pretty dwelling-house, with a veranda all round, covered with passion flowers, honeysuckles, the red trumpet flower, and other beautiful climbing plants, stands on a verdant lawn, shaded by lofty trees, among which we observed the finest kinds of this country, the trunks of which were slender, and straight as pillars. The park extends to the Hudson, where the tall sassafras, tulip, oak, walnut, and other trees, protected us by their shade; while the large steam-boats, rapidly passing on the bright surface of the Hudson, had a very picturesque effect. Mr. Schmidt had the kindness to afford us an admirable view of what is called the island of New York. Near Bloomingdale is a large and very well conducted lunatic asylum, from the lofty roof of which we enjoyed an inexpressibly beautiful, extensive, and interesting prospect of the whole country. From this spot we overlooked the East and North Rivers, the broad bend of the latter, and its high banks towards Albany; to the north, dark forests, with detached dwellings and country seats; and, in all directions, luxuriant green thickets, towns, villages, and handsome country-houses. At our feet, contrasting with that rich and noble view, full of variety and life, we looked down on the buildings and court-yards of the hospital, in which we could observe the patients; while, in another enclosed space, Virginian deer were sporting and playing. This asylum is a very excellent establishment, and contains a great number of patients: the physician resides in the house, and was so good as to show us over it. New York has many such useful institutions,—hospitals, poorhouses, and houses of correction, in which latter the young, who may still be reclaimed, are not mixed with the old, hardened offenders, but are kept apart. There is an asylum for the deaf and dumb, &c.

Our returning from Bloomingdale, in the evening, was extremely agreeable, the weather being delightful. In the dark thickets and woods were swarms of fire-flies; and from the marshes and pools came the croakings of the frogs, with which we were not yet familiar; but we did not hear that of the celebrated bull-frog.

The most beautiful spots and environs of New York are indebted for the attraction of their views, to the variety of the waters surrounding the city: thus, for instance, at the end of the Broadway, is the Castle Garden, formerly a circular fort, the walls of which are converted into a public walk. From the wall itself is a fine prospect of the noble harbour, the neighbouring city, the banks, the opposite coast, and the broad river, where ships of every kind and of all nations are coming and going. Another favourite place of resort is the garden at Hoboken, the name of which indicates its Dutch origin, for it is well known that the Dutch founded the first considerable settlement in this place, numerous traces of which still remain. 15 The communication with Hoboken is by means of a steam-boat. The garden extends along the banks of the Hudson, and the lofty trees and thickets are pleasing and interesting to the stranger. The tall hickory and other kinds of walnut trees had now their fruit half grown. Storax trees (Liquidambar styraciflua), with their maple-like leaves, grow very high and straight, Gleditschia triacanthos and inermis, with wild vines, climbing round them; and many other fine forest trees afford protection against the heat of the summer. Many European trees and shrubs, too, have been planted here. Thus we saw a hedge of whitethorn, the growth of which, however, was stunted by other wood. Many birds, whose notes were unknown to us, were heard in these shades. On my first visit to New York, I was interested by some collections of natural history; for instance, two museums, one of which, belonging to Mr. Peale, is, however, much inferior to that of his brother at Philadelphia. Being anxious to see Philadelphia, I hastened to set out for that city, and left New York, where the cholera was daily spreading more and more.

On the 16th, at six in the morning, I embarked on board the Swan steam-boat, which was so crowded with passengers that there was scarcely room to sit down. On our left we had Staten Land; but we soon turned to the right, into the river Raritan, on which New Brunswick is situated.

New Brunswick is a village, consisting of many straggling streets, where all the passengers landed from the steam-boat, and took their seats in stage-coaches, drawn by four horses, which were standing ready to receive them. The heat was great, the company very mixed, and I had the misfortune to have noisy and disagreeable companions. A long hill, with steep sides, which appears to consist of a reddish clay, extends along the water-side to New Brunswick. On the eminence above the town it was naked and rather sterile; the road was bad, and we were roughly jolted as we drove rapidly along. Meadows, fields of clover, rye, oats, and maize succeeded each other in the vicinity of the habitations, as well as plantations of European fruit trees, full of large caterpillar's nests, but flourishing in the greatest luxuriance. The beautiful red trumpet flower partly covered the sides of the houses, about which Italian poplars and Babylonian willows were frequently planted; the latter are often very high and spreading. The cattle are partly without horns. Sheep and swine were numerous.

While we were changing horses at Kingston, negro and other children offered milk, little cakes, and half-ripe fruit for sale, of which a great deal was bought. Some German peasants, lately arrived from Europe, who were welcomed by their relations, previously settled in the country, completely filled a couple of stages, and were not a little merry, in their low German language, at which Americans laughed heartily. From this place the country was rather woody. Here and there were fine forests, the shade of which was very refreshing in this hot weather. The growth of timber was very fine. A pretty wild rose blossomed among the bushes in the meadows. Oak, sassafras, walnut, chestnut, plane, and tulip trees, displayed their luxuriant foliage of various and often glossy green. The tulip trees, when young, are distinguished by 16 their pyramidal shape and beautiful light green leaves; they were at this time covered with their seed vessels, which were full-grown, but not ripe. The branching phytolacea, and the thorn-apple with its large white flowers, which were now open, as well as several plants brought from Europe, grew in abundance by the road-side, also species of sumach, partly entwined with wild vine; and in the forest was underwood of Rhododendron maximum. We passed rapidly through Prince Town, and arrived at Trenton, on the Delaware, a straggling town, lying among thickets, on the low banks of the river. A long, covered wooden bridge led to the opposite bank of this broad river, which was animated by ships and boats. Such colossal, covered wooden bridges are very common in the United States; and many travellers have already described the construction of these useless masses of timber. From Trenton, we hastened over a sandy tract to another place on the river, opposite to which is Bordentown, and at a short distance lay the steam-boat, Trenton, ready to convey us down the river to Philadelphia. We descended the fine river Delaware, the low, verdant banks of which are covered with many towns, settlements, and country houses; here and there, too, with forests of oaks, &c., and of a kind of pine (pinus rigida). After taking dinner, at which we were waited on by negroes and mulattoes, we reached Philadelphia about five or six o'clock.

This city extends a great way along the right bank of the Delaware, but has by no means so beautiful and striking an effect as New York. It is large and regularly built; the long, straight streets crossing each other at right angles. The modern part of the city is handsome, consisting of lofty brick buildings, ornamented in the English fashion; but the older parts of Philadelphia consist of low, mean houses. It is very judicious that, in hot weather, an agreeable shady walk is formed by awnings spread before the houses, and that the streets are well watered. The water-works are at Fairmount, where there is a basin, from which pipes convey the water to every part of the city.

The streets which run at right angles to the Delaware are called by the names of different kinds of trees—Mulberry Street, Walnut Street, Chestnut Street, &c.: the streets which cross them are numbered, First Street, Second Street, Third Street, &c. Chestnut Street, without doubt the finest, is full of life and traffic. A part of it has, in the middle, a shady avenue of lime trees; and, besides, there are, in many of the streets, rows of trees which do not yet afford much shade. Splendid shops, in almost uninterrupted succession, line the streets, and you find here all the manufactures and produce of the other quarters of the globe. The ancient, injudicious practice of having the churchyards in the towns is still retained in America. They are filled with great numbers of whitish monuments, of various forms, often planted with high trees, and lie quite exposed to view, being separated from the street only by an iron railing. Philadelphia has a considerable number of public buildings, especially many churches and meeting-houses of 17 different religious denominations, most of which are extremely plain brick buildings, without any external ornaments whatever. This country has no history like the Old World, and therefore we look in vain for the ancient Gothic cathedrals, and those awe-inspiring monuments of past ages, from which the traveller in Europe derives so much pleasure and instruction. Besides the churches, the principal buildings are the State House, where the independence of the country was proclaimed on the 4th of July, 1776, the United States Bank, the Bank of Pennsylvania, the Exchange, the University and the Medical College, the Mint, some hospitals, the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, and many others, which it would lead us too far to mention here.

Philadelphia would make a more striking impression if we could find a spot commanding a view of the whole; but as it lies in the plain between the rivers Delaware and Schuylkill, which unite five miles below the city, no such spot is to be found.

It is well known that this city was founded, in 1682, by William Penn, a Quaker, who concluded, under an elm tree, which recently fell down from age, a convention with the Delaware Indians, the proprietors of the soil, by which they ceded to him a tract of land. Philadelphia, literally "the city of the brethren" (Quakers), contains people from all the nations of Europe, especially Germans, French, and English. In some parts of the city, German is almost exclusively spoken. In the year 1834, the population consisted of 80,406 whites, and 59,482 people of colour. I arrived in Philadelphia at an unfavourable moment, for the cholera had already manifested itself also in that city. Letters of introduction from Europe procured me a kind reception in some houses; but, on the other hand, I had not an opportunity of becoming acquainted with several scientific gentlemen, because, being physicians, they were now particularly engaged. Professor Harlan, M. D., well known to the learned world as an author, was of the number. Mr. Krumbhaar, a German, to whom I had letters, received me with much kindness, and introduced me to many agreeable acquaintances. He took me to the water-works at Fair Mount, one of the most interesting spots near the city, which are indeed worth seeing. The road led past the House of Correction, where young offenders, who are still capable of being reclaimed, are confined. On the bank of the river, there are buildings in which large wheels set in motion the machinery by which the water is raised to the reservoirs, on an eminence about eighty feet high, whence the pipes are carried to all parts of the city. The rocky eminence, from which a fine, clear spring rises, is provided with stairs and balustrades, and adorned with elegant pavilions, which command a view of the water-works, and of the beautiful valley of the Schuylkill. It is a favourite promenade, and daily resorted to by numbers of persons, as they can have all kinds of refreshments there. Beautiful plants, the catalpa, plantain, &c., grow among the rocks with great luxuriance, being watered by the springs. We crossed the great bridge over the Schuylkill, to return to the city, where I made but a short stay, because my fellow-travellers were still detained at New York, waiting for our baggage from Boston. As 18 all the roads were crowded with fugitives from New York, it was not a favourable moment for travelling; I therefore resolved on an excursion to Bordentown, in order to obtain some little knowledge of the forests of New Jersey.

I left Philadelphia, on board the Burlington steam-boat, about noon, and arrived at Bordentown between four and five o'clock. At this place are the estates of the Count de Survilliers (Joseph Buonaparte), who had but lately sailed for Europe. The pleasant country house, in the fine park, is about 300 paces from the village, near to the high road, and near, also, to the iron railway from Amboy to Camden, opposite to Philadelphia. Workmen were employed in making this road, in doing which, advantage was taken of the hollow of the valley, so that the railway was much below the common road, or the street of the town. I found some interesting plants in the woods opposite the Count's park. There were three or four kinds of oak, among which are the Quercus ferruginea, with its large, peculiarly shaped leaves; the white oak, the leaves of which are the most like the European; also, varieties of walnut trees, chestnuts, and the sassafras, a fine, tall tree, which was just then in blossom, the leaves of which often vary in shape. The undergrowth of this forest, in which pines were mixed with other trees, consisted of Rhododendron maximum (Pennsylvania mountain laurel) and kalmia, the latter of which, in the deep shade, was already out of flower; but the former still had its large bunches of beautiful white or pale red blossoms, and was from ten to fifteen feet high. The stiff, laurel-like, dried leaves of this fine plant covered the ground, and crackled as we passed along, which reminded me of the Brazilian forests, where this occurs in a much greater degree. On open, uncultivated spots, the great mullein (Verbascum thapsus), with its yellow flowers, and large, woolly leaves, grew in great abundance, and likewise the phytolacea. Among the thick blackberry bushes, entwined with vines, by the road-side, I observed the little striped squirrel, which doubtless climbs to get at the fruit.

At ten o'clock, the heat was already so intense that I returned to the inn, where I arrived very much fatigued. This house is very pleasantly situated on an eminence above the Delaware, at the place where the steam-boats arrive, and from which there is a fine view of the arm of the river, and the adjacent lowland, covered with woods and thickets. A great ornament of this landscape is the white garden-pavilion of Count Survilliers, which rises above the thick groves on the left bank of the Delaware, above Bordentown. In the cool of the evening I usually went to this park. The house itself is a pretty building, on a lawn near the water-side, where oleander and orange plants are placed. The park is very shady, and extends along the Croswick Creek, towards which the bank forms a steep, wildly wooded declivity. In this wood there was likewise a thick undergrowth of Rhododendron maximum, now in full blossom. On an eminence immediately above the river, stands a kind of tower, several stories high, upon a terrace, from the gallery of which is a fine and extensive view over the low, wooded country, and the arms of the river. From this place winding paths lead through the gloomy forest of 19 pine trees, of different varieties, where many birds, of kinds unknown to me, were flying about. The cat bird (Turdus felivox, Vieill.), whose voice has a slight resemblance to that of a cat, was very numerous in this place. From the top of the wooded bank a sort of bridge has been carried out, a great height above the river, and a square place furnished with seats, from which you overlook the whole country. An old Canadian pine stands at the edge of the bank, some branches of which we carried off, by way of memorial. The view from this place is remarkably beautiful; to the right and left extends the river, or rather broad brook, which, at the feet of the spectator, is covered with water plants. The yellow-blossomed Nymphæa adversus, and the beautiful Pontederia cordata grow here in great abundance. There was plenty of occupation for the botanist and the ornithologist, and the sportsman would have reason to be satisfied, for in the neighbouring thickets there were deer (Cervus virginianus), and hares (Lepus Americanus), which frequently crossed our path.

On my return to Bordentown, I found before the door of the inn a number of gentlemen lying in more than easy positions on the benches; the chief subject of conversation was the cholera, which filled the whole country with terror.

It was precisely the hottest part of summer, and it was scarcely possible to protect one's self against the swarms of European flies, which are very numerous. On this account there are, in the inns, negroes and mulattoes, who attend at table, and give the company rest from those troublesome insects, and, at the same time, cool air, by fanning them with fans, made of feathers, often those of the peacock. Fans are, in fact, an article of luxury, and are purchased in the towns; they are made of the tail feathers of the wild turkey, the crane, or the swan, of palm leaves, &c. It was so hot in the daytime, that it was hardly possible to leave the house; and the cholera, therefore, spread rapidly in New York. In this sultry season, the evenings were really refreshing, and gave new life both to men and animals. When it became dusk, luminous insects flew about, and the crickets chirped in notes like those in Europe, but in more rapid succession.

On the following day I visited other places and woods in the vicinity of Bordentown. The town itself is built in the country fashion, with regular, broad, unpaved streets or roads, and the houses lie detached from each other, shaded by rows of trees: this is very necessary, for now, at 10 o'clock in the morning, Fahrenheit's thermometer, in the cool passage of the inn, was at 73°. The avenues of trees in the town consisted of robinia, paper-mulberry, large-leaved poplars, which exude an aromatic gum, weeping willows, and Syrian mallow, which latter grow to the height of ten and even fifteen feet. These plants, with their beautiful flowers, flourish here in much greater perfection than in Germany. In the gardens we observed monarda (Oswego tea), 20 the Indian cress (tropæolum), purple convolvulus, buckthorn (Lycum Europeum), the climbing trumpet flower, vine, catalpa, larkspur, &c.

From Bordentown I sometimes passed beyond the iron railroad, and penetrated into the neighbouring forest. Five or six species of oak, several kinds of walnut trees, beeches, chestnuts, and dogwood, formed the thick wood, the undergrowth of which consisted of Rhododendron maximum, kalmia, rhus, and tall juniper.

On the 23rd of July I left Bordentown, and returned to Philadelphia, as our baggage had not yet arrived from Boston. I made use of this interval to examine the museum of Mr. Titian Peale, which contains the best collection of natural history in the United States. There is the fine large skeleton of the Ohio elephant (Mastodon, Cuv.), and likewise most of the animals of North America, pretty well stuffed. Among them I noticed, especially, the bison, the bighorn or wild sheep of the rocky mountains, the prairie antelope (Antilocapra Americana Ord.), the elk (Cervus major, or Canadensis) the grisly bear (Ursus ferox), and others. Mr. Peale, the owner, accompanied the expedition under Major Long to the Rocky Mountains, where he procured part of these specimens himself. There are likewise many specimens of foreign animals; for instance, a rhinoceros; and the collection of Indian dresses, utensils, and arms, is, I think, the most important that I have yet seen. I was particularly interested by some oil paintings of Indian villages and scenery by Seymour. This artist also accompanied Major Long's expedition. Mr. Peale's collection deserves precedence above all the public museums in the United States, for its more scientific arrangement, and because fewer trifling nicknacks have been admitted into it. Mr. Peale has also travelled in South America, and his health was still suffering from his visit to that country.

As the study of the aboriginal nations of America had peculiar attractions for me, I searched the shops of all the booksellers and printsellers, for good representations of that interesting race; but how much was I astonished, that I could not find, in all the towns of this country, one good, that is, characteristic representation of them, but only some bad or very indifferent copper-plates, which are in books of travels! It is incredible how much the original American race is hated and neglected by the foreign usurpers. Only a few eminent men, who have felt this reproach and defect, are now exerting themselves to rescue from oblivion the neglected materials, scarce as they now are, after it has become next to impossible to collect anything complete respecting the history of many exterminated Indian tribes. Messrs. Morse, Smith Barton, Edwin James, Say, Duponceau, Schoolcraft, Cass, Mc Kenney, and some others, are an honourable exception in this respect. A fine work, with coloured lithographic plates, was contemplated at Philadelphia, which deserves encouragement; it was to give the history of the several Indian tribes, with portraits of their chiefs, for which the Government was ready to furnish all the materials in its possession. It seems that this important publication has at length been carried into execution.

CHAPTER III

RESIDENCE AT FREIBURG AND BETHLEHEM IN PENNSYLVANIA, FROM JULY 30TH TO AUGUST 23RD

View of the Country—Population of German Origin—Freiburg—Residence there—The Rocky Valley—Excursions—The Colony of the Moravian Brethren at Bethlehem—Residence there—Excursions.

All the members of our party had now joined, and, though our baggage was not yet arrived from Boston, I resolved, in order to make myself acquainted with the interior of Pennsylvania, to take up my abode in the settlement of the Moravian Brethren at Bethlehem. I had previously paid a visit to the place, and found it very favourably situated for our object. On the 30th of June [July], before daybreak, in the finest weather and bright moonlight, we drove through the long streets of Philadelphia, and passed the churchyards, with their white, ghost-like monuments and tombstones. The day broke when we got out of the city. On both sides of the road were country houses, alternating with fields, enclosures, gardens, and parks; and high trees of various kinds were everywhere planted by the road-side. We passed through Germantown, a scattered village, and, by eight o'clock, arrived at Chestnut Hill, where the passengers usually breakfast. The inn was rather uncleanly, and the coffee so bad, that a portly Quaker in our company would not take this beverage, of which he was otherwise very fond. At table we were molested by innumerable European flies, though a servant girl took great pains to drive them away, by waving a large green bough over our heads.

The whole country, as far as Bethlehem, and much farther, is chiefly inhabited by the descendants of German emigrants, who all speak an indifferent low German, and say that they rather converse in German than in English. The appearance of the country in this part is not particularly pleasing. Fields of potatoes, clover, oats, and maize as high as a man, alternate with meadows and little thickets, and all the fields are surrounded with hedges or wooden fences. At Montgomeryville, the horses are changed a second time, and the road becomes more diversified. 22 The habitations of the country people are generally small, often rather poor, frequently composed of boards, covered with shingles; sometimes they are merely great block-houses, like the cowkeeper's cottage in Switzerland. These cottages are surrounded with little gardens, in which there are various kinds of European plants, such as the hollyhock, hibiscus, larkspur, balsam, &c. The Hibiscus Syriacus was everywhere in blossom, in the greatest beauty. I have never seen this fine plant so high and vigorous, or its flowers so large and splendid, in Europe, as here. They are of three varieties of colour—white, purple, and bright pink, the latter by far the most beautiful. In general, the trees and shrubs in this country are very vigorous. The vegetative power increases the more you advance towards the south, and the prodigious fertility of the soil remains long unimpaired, even after it has been stripped of its primeval forests.

The country, as we advanced, was gradually more and more wooded. We drove through fine young woods of slender oaks, walnuts and chestnuts, ash, sassafras, beech, tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica), and other tall trees, all, with the exception of a single spot, without any underwood or young trees, which is a proof that there is no intention of perpetuating these woods for future use. In many parts they are on the way to total destruction, for they contain neither timber fit for felling, nor young plants; and if it is thought fit in future to raise timber in these ruined forests, the country people must be checked in their love of destruction, and forest laws and regulations introduced. It is fortunate for Pennsylvania that the rich coal mines have been discovered. There was a very agreeable succession of woods and meadows, and we saw great numbers of the beautiful red-headed woodpecker, which, when it spreads its wings, displays a large surface as white as snow. It is often seen sitting on the fences where the ground squirrel and the reddish squirrel, with dark lateral stripes (Sciurus Hudsonius), frequently resort. The first, in particular, is seen in great numbers about all these fences, running backwards and forwards on them. The birds which we particularly remarked were the robin, the blue bird, the fox-coloured thrush, the goldfinch, the turtle-dove, &c. The Caprimulgus Virginianus, which the Americans call the night hawk, was flying about in a meadow in bright sunshine. I have seen these birds everywhere, flying about in numbers, in the daytime, like Azaras Nacunda in Brazil. This species, too, shows, when on the wing, the white transverse stripes which are observed in many species in that country. Crows and blackbirds are common, but there are very few birds of prey, which are far more numerous in Brazil. The forests in this part of the country become more lofty; the crowns of the trees spread wider, and afford a thicker shade. Travelling by a road which runs alternately through corn-fields, meadows, and agreeable eminences, we arrived at Freiburg, a straggling village, almost wholly inhabited by descendants of German emigrants. We stopped here a couple of days, to make excursions in the forests, and took up our quarters in a tolerably good country miller's house, close to which a Jew had set up his store.

On the 1st of August, conducted by my obliging neighbour, the German Jew, and some 23 others of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, we made an excursion to the Rocky Valley, which was represented to us as very well worth seeing. We proceeded through meadows and between fences for about half a league, and often saw the large prairie lark (Alauda magna, Linn.; Sturnella, Vieill.), which usually sits on the ground, on the grass, or on the branch of a shrub, and, when scared, often lights on the pines. Its song is short, and not disagreeable. This handsome bird is shy of the sportsman, and flies away betimes, when it may immediately be recognized by its short, outspread tail, the side feathers of which are white. Our path lay past isolated farm-houses, most of the inhabitants of which spoke German, and we then reached the forest, where we shot many fine birds. We next passed by several lonely log or block-houses, before the doors of which the children, many of them very poorly and dirtily dressed, were at play, and seemed to be the only possession of the inhabitants. The sky was overcast, and it rained, while the weather was very warm, which obliged us to visit the cool draw-wells of the peasants. From this place the forest was more and more filled with blocks of primitive rocks, mixed with hornblende and quartz, and these blocks lay about irregularly, some of them very large, and covered with various kinds of lichens. In this wild wooded spot, our guides could not tell where they were, till a German peasant showed us the rather hidden path, which could hardly be distinguished among the many blocks of stone. The Actæa racemosa, with its long spikes of white flowers, was growing everywhere, four or five feet high, like the Digitalis purpurea, in the mountain forests on the Rhine.

The wood now became thicker, and fuller of brushwood. We reached the bed of a stream, now dry, likewise quite filled with blocks of stone, which we followed, leaping from block to block, till we came in sight of the place called the Rocky Valley. Here, on a gentle hill, is a free prospect through the forest up the stream, where prodigious masses of great blocks of stone were so piled up, one over another, that a tract, from 150 to 200 paces in breadth, appears quite covered with them, exactly like similar heaps of stone, especially basalt, in Germany, some of which are found in the countries on the Rhine, where they are called beilsteine. No shrub or blade of grass can grow among these boulders, and the rain, which continued to fall, made them so slippery that it was dangerous to climb over them. No living creature was to be seen in this wilderness, nor, as I said before, was there any vegetation. These blocks seem to have been accumulated and piled up by some impetuous torrent, and it is said that, at the season of the year which is less hot and dry, the sound of water running under the stones is heard.

From this place we returned to the habitation of the German peasant who had showed us the way, where we refreshed ourselves with brandy-and-water. The inmates of the house were, in part, engaged, sitting under the shade of the trees, in cutting shingles, which they sold. They were much astonished at our double-barrelled guns, with percussion locks and safety caps. There are now scarcely any wild animals in these forests; hardly any but the grey fox, the 24 Pennsylvania marmot (ground hog, or wood chuck), the grey and the red squirrel, have escaped the love of destruction of the invaders.

On our return to Freiburg, I found our countryman, Dr. Saynisch, of Bethlehem, whom I had previously met with. He is a naturalist, and, being well acquainted with this part of the country, was able to give me much interesting information concerning it. He stopped a couple of days with us, and we set out on a shooting excursion the same afternoon.

On the 2nd of August, early in the morning, we left Freiburg, in the most beautiful weather, and our host drove us in his dearborn (such is the name given to a small covered vehicle), and two spirited horses, to Bethlehem, the road to which afforded us much pleasure. The country is very agreeable: meadows, corn-fields, habitations, and copses succeeded each other on the side of low hills; and the fine valley, called, by the inhabitants, Upper Sakena, is remarkably fertile. The road was here and there shaded by large trees, and a small pond was extremely interesting to us; for, besides many curious birds, we saw tortoises everywhere on the banks, and on old stumps in the water, which, however, were very shy, and plunged below the surface as soon as we approached them. In the sultry heat of noon, we reached the Moravian settlement, Bethlehem, where we put up at a German inn.

This settlement is built on the top and the side of a hill, at the foot of which the Monocasa brook joins the Lecha (Lehigh). The Lecha is celebrated for its picturesque valley, which is at first wild and wooded, and lower down, fruitful and well cultivated. At present, Bethlehem is no more than a village, but it is rapidly increasing, and has already some pretty considerable streets, which, however, are still unpaved. The church is a large, neat, light building, quite in the plain style of the German churches of this sect, and gives the place a pretty appearance, being situated nearly at the top of the hill. Another large building is the girls' school, which has a shady garden, planted with timber trees, the lower part of which is on the Monocasa, where flowers of many kinds attract the little humming-birds. The lower part of the village, consisting of but a few houses, one of which is the inn where we lodged, and where there is a long wooden bridge over the Lecha, is situated in Lehigh county; and the large upper part, in the county of Northampton, the boundary line of the two counties passing through the place. Like all the settlements of the industrious brethren, Bethlehem has a number of different trades, mechanics and field-labourers. New settlers are continually arriving, and it will, in time, become a place of importance. The inhabitants are, for the most part, Germans; but there are likewise many English, and divine service is performed in the church in German and English alternately, and most of the inhabitants speak both languages. The country about Bethlehem is agreeable and diversified; the climate very healthy. Large woods alternate in the vicinity with the fields of the inhabitants, and a canal, from the coal district of Mauch Chunk to the Delaware, gives animation and support to the country by the numerous boats that navigate it. All kinds of 25 European field and garden plants are cultivated here, and likewise maize; they have even begun to plant vines; but what is called the Alexander grape, yields a rather acid beverage, which they usually sweeten with sugar. We were told that much better wine is produced in the country about Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, near York. Fruit does not seem to thrive so well in the United States as in Europe: the peach, however, may, perhaps, be excepted.

I became acquainted with the directors of this colony: Mr. V. Schweinitz, well known in the literary world as a distinguished botanist, Mr. Anders the bishop, and the Rev. Mr. Seidel. All these gentlemen received me in a very friendly manner, and Mr. Seidel, in particular, showed me much kindness. Dr. Saynisch lived in the same house with me, and I derived great benefit from his knowledge of the country. Our whole time at Bethlehem was devoted to excursions in the neighbouring country. Opposite the place, on the other side of the Lecha, is a range of mountains, or moderate hills, beautifully wooded, which afforded a great variety of pleasant walks. The mountains are covered with picturesque forests of oak, walnut, and other timber trees, under which there is, generally, a thick covert of tall Rhododendron maximum, which was still adorned with its magnificent large tufts of flowers. In these dark shades we soon learned to distinguish the notes of the different birds, among which was the flame-coloured Baltimore bird, which we recognized, at a distance, by its splendid plumage, when it was flying to its remarkable pendent nest, of which we saw several. The Lecha, the bottom of which was covered with naked blocks and masses of stone, is adorned by picturesque islands, some of them of considerable extent, to which we made many interesting excursions. Numerous kinds of aquatic plants grow in the water; and among these plants we saw numbers of tortoises. Mr. Bodmer made a very characteristic drawing of this wood and water scenery. When we had crossed the river, we landed on the island in a dark, lofty, airy grove, where all the kinds of trees common in this country grow vigorously, and entirely exclude the sun's rays. The ground is clothed with many fine plants: the beautiful Lobelia cardinalis, which is common in all this part of the country, was in blossom on the banks, as well as many other plants.

This beautiful forest was peopled by a great variety of birds; besides those above-mentioned, we saw, in the crowns of the highest trees, the bright red Tanagra, the black and red Baltimore bird, the humming-bird, with reddish-brown eyes; the greenish heron, and the ash-coloured kingfisher, flew up from the stones on the bank. Whenever we were overtaken by a shower of rain on these lovely islands, we took shelter in the hollow trunks of old plane trees, of which there is one capable of holding ten persons. In these cool shades we did not much feel the heat of the summer, but it was very oppressive in the town; at nine o'clock in the evening the temperature of our apartment was 18° Reaumur (72½° Fahrenheit), and there were frequent thunder-storms. At noon the temperature in the cool passages of our house was at 23° or 24° Reaumur (86° Fahrenheit).

26 We made frequent excursions to these charming islands; and Mr. Bodmer, who went thither every day to complete his sketch of the forests, generally came back laden with tortoises (Emys odorata and picta) and other amphibia, or fresh water shells. This Emys picta is one of the most beautiful kinds of this family in Pennsylvania: there is certainly no country in which tortoises are so numerous, and of such a variety of species, as North America.

The banks of the Lehigh, chiefly covered with high woods, differ from the more open banks of the Monocasa, where extensive thickets of reed and reed mace (Typha) are the abode of the beautiful red-shouldered Oriole. The little shrub-like oak (Quercus chincapin) grows in abundance on the hills that border this stream. We made other interesting visits to the wooded Lecha mountains, on the north or north-east bank of that river, below Bethlehem. They are thickly covered with high timber and much underwood, and from their summits there is a fine prospect over the whole of the surrounding hilly country. The chestnut trees have been very much thinned in these forests, as the wood is highly valued, not for fuel, as it is light and porous, but for fences, because it is said to remain uninjured in the ground for sixty years.

The splendid bright red Tanagra was not uncommon in these forests; but we now met with none that were quite red, because the old males put on, towards autumn, the plain olive-coloured plumage of the females. Many of these fine birds had still bright red spots, which showed that they were undergoing a change in their plumage. Only a couple of species of the genus Tanagra, which are so numerous in the Brazilian forests, are found in all North America; but the manner and mode of living of these animals are everywhere the same. They are quiet birds, not remarkable for their song, but make up for this deficiency by the splendour of their plumage. The small hare (Lepus Americanus) and the grey squirrel were almost the only quadrupeds we saw in these woods; but of the class of amphibia there were many kinds. The larger wild animals have almost wholly disappeared. All North America was formerly one interminable forest, only there were what are called prairies in the western parts beyond the Alleghany mountains; but all Pennsylvania, a state comprising 44,500 square miles, was a primeval forest, which was thinned in a short time by the numerous settlers who flocked to this country. The larger species of game disappeared in the same ratio; and in the immediate vicinity of Bethlehem there are now not even any deer. It was mentioned to me as a very rare occurrence, that a bear had been seen here two years before, and was immediately pursued, but in vain, by the hunters. Some small animals still live in these forests, which, however, are not to be found except at night; among these are the opossum (Didelphys Virginiana) and the skunk (Mephitis Americana). The first is not frequently met with in these parts; the latter, on the contrary, is not uncommon.

In order to catch the skunk, our hunters went by night to the Lecha mountains, and searched the forest with hounds, and almost always attained their object. The dogs killed the animal by biting it, and were sometimes a little perfumed. It has been reported that they 27 avoid the smell; but I can testify that we did not meet with any confirmation whatever of this statement. In fact, the stories told of the offensive smell of this animal are rather exaggerated, for an European polecat is often nothing behind the skunk in this disagreeable quality. The hunters brought home a half-grown skunk alive, and we kept it in a box in the garden, where it was very tame and quiet, and never emitted the slightest smell. We opened the box, and let it run about at liberty. It is only when alarmed that the skunk is offensive to the olfactory nerves. The hollow trees in these forests were the abode of the pretty flying squirrel, which, however, is not to be seen in the daytime. The banks of the river are inhabited by the musk-rat, which is often seen swimming, and is sometimes taken in the fishing nets.

One of our usual walks, during our stay at Bethlehem, was up or down the banks of the Mauch Chunk canal. This canal is divided from the Lecha by a dam, on which grow many fine plants, about which numbers of humming-birds were fluttering. In my whole journey through North America, I nowhere found these pretty birds so numerous as here. They hummed about the yellow flowers of the broad-leaved tree primrose (Oenothera), of the violet Asclepias incarnata (swallow wort), of the Impatiens fulva, with its deep orange-coloured flowers, &c., and we shot many of these little creatures, among ten of which we found, at the most, one male, with deep red throat. The dam was bordered with stones at the sides; and among them were numbers of the striped ground squirrel. Tall thistles are the constant resort of the goldfinches, which picked the woolly seeds from the flower heads. At some mills, on an island near the road, there was a grove of tall trees, the dark shades of which were animated by many interesting birds, especially the beautiful Baltimore bird and the flycatcher (Muscicapa ruticilla), which is distinguished by the same colours, and is frequent here. Under the old stems, and from the roots of the trees on the bank, the great bull-frogs leaped into the water, however softly and cautiously we approached. Their deep, hollow note was not heard so much in this season, as in the spring and the beginning of the summer. I nowhere saw these frogs so numerous as here in Pennsylvania.

Opposite to these hills, on the other bank of the Lecha, was a wood of very tall, old trees, the airy, shady crowns of which were inhabited by birds of more different kinds than any other place in this neighbourhood. From that wood we always returned loaded with booty. There, too, we observed interesting butterflies, such as Papileo turnus, the beautiful black and blue philenor, and other species. The thick hedges near the houses were the resort of numerous cat-birds. The fishing-hawk hovered over the river, watching for prey, and we often saw the three-striped viper (Coluber sirtalis) glide among the grass.

To the north and north-west of Bethlehem the woods consist of oaks without any underwood, the cattle having their pasture there. All these interesting excursions greatly increased our collections; and the Rev. Mr. Seidel, who had a good library, and a taste for the study of Nature, had the kindness to provide us with the necessary literary assistance. We lived here 28 very agreeably in the society of well-informed men and fellow-countrymen, and our residence at the extremity of the place, close to the woods and fields, afforded us the most favourable opportunity for our researches and labours; and our landlord, Mr. Wöhler, from Westphalia, did everything in his power to assist us in our occupations. This, in some degree, indemnified me for the deplorable loss of time occasioned by the delay in the arrival of our baggage. I should have reached the Western States long before, if I had not been obliged to wait for those indispensable articles. During our stay here, we often saw German emigrants arrive, almost all of whom were from Würtemberg, Baden, or Rhenish Bavaria. In the most lamentable condition, without money, without the slightest knowledge of the country or the language, they were going to meet their precarious fate. They were generally refused admittance at the English inns, and then Wöhler, not without considerable expense, took on him to forward them on their journey.

We received news from Philadelphia that the cholera had rather abated; it had entirely spared Bethlehem and its vicinity. The canal colliers gave me an opportunity of sending my collections to New York, which I did in the beginning of September. The Flora of the country had then produced its white, yellow, or purple autumnal flowers; the golden rod, sunflower, Eupatorium, and some kinds of Aster were in blossom, and the white flowers of the Clematis Virginiana.

The weather now remained very uniformly hot during the whole of July and August, with occasional thunder-storms; and if the summers in the United States are usually of this temperature, as we were assured, they are more equally hot, and for a longer time, than that season is in Germany. In order to make myself acquainted with Nazareth, the other settlement of the Moravian brethren, I drove there in company of the Rev. Mr. Seidel. It is ten miles from Bethlehem. On the road to it lies Altoona, consisting of some scattered habitations, and afterwards, on approaching the Monocasa, Hecktown. Nazareth is a pleasant place, with some unpaved streets, and has a gymnasium for the education of young clergymen. All the masters are Germans, but their instructions are given in the English language. The building seems to be old, and not very spacious. From the roof there is a fine, extensive prospect to the blue hills on the banks of the Delaware, and to the verdant, wooded banks of the Lecha. The gymnasium has a small cabinet of natural history. The church is not so large as that at Bethlehem, but can be easily warmed in the winter. A little beyond the garden, which has many shady walks, is the churchyard, where the flat, square tombstones, with short inscriptions, lie in regular rows, near to each other. The names of the brethren interred here show that most of them were Germans. There is a very fine prospect from the higher part of this churchyard. The greensward is here thickly covered with European thyme. Nazareth has about 350 inhabitants, and sixty youths in the gymnasium. There are in the place a good inn, shops of various kinds, &c. Mr. Herrman, the present director of the establishment, had the kindness to show us everything worthy of notice, and we had only to regret that we could not enjoy longer the pleasure of his company, as we were 29 obliged to return to Bethlehem in the afternoon. Mr. Gebhard, from New York, who had surprised us by an unexpected visit, returned direct from Nazareth to his own residence. The view of these Pennsylvanian landscapes would be much more agreeable if the numerous wooden fences did not give them a stiff, unnatural character. Some idea may be formed of the number of these fences from the fact that, in the short distance of ten miles, persons going on foot, direct from Bethlehem to Nazareth, have to climb over twenty-five of these fences.

CHAPTER IV

JOURNEY TO THE POKONO, AND THROUGH THE BLUE MOUNTAINS TO MAUCH CHUNK, IN THE COAL DISTRICT, FROM THE 23RD TO THE 30TH OF AUGUST

Easton on the Delaware—Morris Canal—View of the Blue Mountains—Delaware Gap—Dutotsburg—Chestnut Hill—Sach's Public house on the Pokono—Height of the Pokono—Long Pond—Tonkhanna Creek—Tobihanna Creek—Inn of the Widow Sachs—Saw-mill on the Tobihanna, with the Bear-trap—Stoddart's Ville on the Lehigh—Shade Creek—Bear Creek—Extensive View of the Mountains—Wilkesbarre in the Valley of Wyoming, or Susquehannah Valley—Falls of Solomon Creek—Hanover Township—Neskopeck Valley—German Settlers—Lausanne—Neskihone or Neskihoning Valley—Picturesque Scenery on the Lehigh—Mauch Chunk.

In order to make ourselves acquainted with the interior of Pennsylvania, and the Alleghany mountains, which are the most interesting part of that state, we left Bethlehem early in the morning, on the 23rd of August, in a light, covered carriage, driven by our landlord, Wöhler, who was well known in all this country. Dr. Saynisch and Mr. Bodmer accompanied me. I left my huntsman behind to look after our affairs at home. The country was enveloped in fog, as had been generally the case for some time past, till the sun dispelled it. We took the road to Easton, where the fields were partly cleared, and covered with stubble, partly planted with clover, maize, potatoes, and buckwheat, which was just in flower. The ground was gently undulating, with an alternation of fields, and woods of walnut and oak. This country belongs to the secondary limestone formation; where-ever the ground was broken up, limestone was seen, and in the woods were several limekilns, the produce of which was lying on the fields in large heaps, to be spread over them for manure. Isolated farm-houses are scattered along the road. They are slightly built of wood, many of them very small; but there are a great number of wealthy planters in this State. The little gardens of these houses were generally planted with European flowers, and on the road-side in the hedges, the kermes-oak and juniper abounded, and their berries attracted numbers of thrushes. Horses and horned cattle are very numerous, and the first, which are often of a very good breed, are left, day and night, at liberty in the meadow, and little trouble is taken about them. 31 The peasants are very bold in riding and driving, never use drags to their wheels, but drive down the hills full trot. In the hot and dry season, this country is often in want of water, and even the cisterns made by the farmers then become dry, so that the cattle must frequently be driven five or six miles to water. This arid tract is called by the inhabitants, in their German language, "das Trockene land," the dry land.

We now saw, on our right hand, the heights on the banks of the Lehigh, covered with verdant forests, which we were again approaching. The double call of the Perdix Virginiana et Marylandica, called, by the Americans, quail or partridge, sounded in the clover fields; the ground squirrel ran along the fences; the red-headed woodpecker flew from tree to tree; and plants of various kinds, Verbascum thapsus (great mullein), Antirrhinum linaria (the common toadflax), Phytolacea, Rhus typhinum (Virginian sumach), Eupatorium purpureum, golden rod, &c., grew by the road-side; the dwelling houses were surrounded with large orchards, and the apple trees were loaded with small yellow apples of an indifferent kind, and immense caterpillars' nests covered many of the branches. A great deal of cider is made, but the culture of fruit seems to be, in general, in rather a backward state. The cherry trees, too, were covered at this time with their small, bad fruit, which, as in Europe, was eagerly sought after by numbers of birds. After travelling twelve miles, we arrived at Easton, a small town with a population of 2,000 inhabitants, the capital of Northampton county, situated at the conflux of the Delaware and the Lehigh. We alighted at the inn with many country people, and immediately set out to take a walk in the town, while breakfast was preparing. The streets of Easton cross each other at right angles; they are not paved, excepting a footway on the sides, paved with bricks; the largest of them runs with a gentle declivity to the Delaware. In a square in the highest part stands the Court-house. The buildings in the place are, in general, only two stories high; and the most interesting spot is the terrace, near the bridge over the Delaware. This bridge is 600 English feet long, has three arches, is quite closed, covered with a strong roof, and has fifteen glass windows on each side; it is painted yellow, and the building of it, like all similar undertakings in the United States, was a private speculation, and brings in thirty per cent., a toll being paid.

We crossed this bridge, and walked down the river, till we came opposite to the spot, immediately below the town, where the Lehigh, issuing from its picturesque valley, between the rocky hills covered with pines and other trees, falls into the Delaware. Near to the former, on the same side, is the mouth of the Mauch Chunk canal; and on the other side of the Delaware begins the Morris canal, leading to New York. A great number of men were busily employed at this spot. On the banks of the Delaware grew Datura Tatula, with its purple flowers, tall Virginian junipers, a verbena, and other plants; and the three-striped viper darted through the low bushes.

32 Returning to the inn, we loaded our guns and proceeded on our journey. As soon as we were out of the town, we went up the Delaware on the right bank, and crossed a bridge to Bushkill, a picturesque stream, flowing between lofty shady trees, on banks richly covered with a variety of plants. From this spot the way becomes extremely romantic and agreeable. It leads close by the bright mirror of the river, which may be full 200 paces broad, in the shade of the dark forest of plane, oak, tulip, walnut, chestnut, and other trees; and on the left hand rises the steep rocky wall, covered with many interesting plants, which are protected by the shade of the trees. The river soon becomes broader, and we came to isolated habitations situated in shady groves. We stopped at one of them to send a messenger, on horseback, back to Bethlehem, where the drawing materials, of which we had so much need, had been forgotten.

The rocks often came so close to the bank of the river, that there was scarcely room for two carriages to pass each other: lofty forest trees afforded a welcome shade. In many places the rock stood out. Dr. Saynisch struck off with his hammer some fine pieces of saussurite (Hornstone), and talc, with mica; but a slate formation soon succeeded, and we were glad that we had taken good specimens of the preceding. Continuing our way, in the shade, by the banks of the river, we frequently came to other steep rocks, till the wilderness again gave way to human habitations, where we stopped at the White House to water our horses and take some refreshment. From this place the country was more diversified. The road still runs by the side of the river, which was animated by boats, and by numbers of ducks and geese. The Mudrun creek here issues in a very picturesque manner, between high trees, from a small side valley. A little farther on, we left the Delaware to ascend some pretty high hills. We proceeded along the side valley of Martin's creek, in which there are some spots of marshy meadow, where the splendid Lobelia cardinalis, which is usually found on the banks of all these rivers, attracted the eye by its deep red flowers. We then passed a naked lateral defile, where stubble, and clover fields, and woods, which we saw at a distance, reminded us of some parts of our own country. The road led over the heights, alternately gently ascending and descending till we came to the little village of Richmont, where we watered our horses, which suffered from the great heat, and ascended a considerable eminence, on which there is a mean looking church, called Upper Mount Bethel. We then proceeded through a more elevated plain, where, on the left hand, in a north-west direction, is a near prospect of the Blue Mountains, which form the first chain of the Alleghany.

This first chain is said to be only 2,000 feet above the level of the sea; but it extends here further than the eye can reach, and is uniformly covered with verdant, primeval forests. It runs in the direction from north to south, and has no characteristically shaped peaks, or remarkable forms, so that there is nothing picturesque in the total effect. With the exception of some parts, especially the beautiful Catskill mountains, most of the landscapes of North America are characterized by this want of striking outlines, and this constitutes the great difference between them and 33 the views in Brazil, where the mountains and the outlines of the horizon are almost always marked by the most striking forms, as is usual in primitive mountains.

In the chain before us, we remarked an opening in a northerly direction, where the Delaware breaks through; this is called the Delaware Water Gap, or the Delaware Gap. It is twenty-three miles from Bethlehem, and was the place of our destination to-day. We were now two miles from it. After passing the little town of Williamsburg, we saw before us, almost in all directions, luxuriant verdant woods, and eminences rising behind each other. As our horses hastened to the valley, the height of the mountains seemed to increase. At length the bright Delaware appeared before us, and we soon reached its banks. The river here forms the boundary of Warren County in New Jersey. On the opposite side we perceived a large glasshouse, managed by Germans, called Columbia Glasshouse, where many who have possessed it have already become bankrupts.

As we approached this defile, we observed a water-snake swimming in the river, which suffered itself to be carried down with the stream, but disappeared as soon as we approached. We procured one on the following day, as they are not uncommon here.

We had now reached the mountain chain, which rose bold and steep on both sides, and at every step became more and more contracted. Just before the defile, or gap, is an inn, behind which, at the distance of hardly a couple of hundred paces, runs the steep rocky wall of grauwacke and clay slate, here the predominant kind of rock. This high wall is crowned on the summit with pines, and covered at the base with various other trees, while the middle part is naked and rugged. At the foot of the mountains are luxuriant fields and meadows, in which the fine cattle were grazing. From this spot the rocky wall approaches nearer and nearer to the river, the banks of which, rude and desolate, are covered with many broken trunks of trees confusedly thrown together, many of which were still lying in the water. This is the effect of the rising of the river, and the breaking-up of the ice in spring, which had caused more extensive damages in the spring of 1832 than on any former occasion within the memory of man. Where the banks of the river are flat and sandy, thickets of young planes often supply the place of the willows on the banks of our European rivers. The plane—called by the German inhabitants water maple, or water beech; by the Anglo-Americans, buttonwood, or sycamore—flourishes particularly near the water, or in low, moist situations, where it attains its colossal growth in perfection. These young planes, on the bank, were almost entirely stripped of their bark by the action of the water.

The inn, Delaware Gap, is supposed to be 600 feet higher than Philadelphia, and the steep wall of rock behind it is elevated 600 or 700 feet above it. We might have stopped here for the night, but, as it was early, we preferred passing the Gap. The road now led immediately along the bank of the river, and then obliquely upwards on the steep wooded western rocky wall. The savage grandeur of the scenery is very striking. The forest has underwood of 34 various kinds, where numbers of interesting plants attracted our attention. Picturesque rocks, over which water trickles, covered with various coloured mosses, lichens, and beautiful ferns, stand between the trunks of the trees, and form shady nooks, caverns, seats; while all the forest trees of this country, mixed with pines, particularly the hemlock spruce fir, and the Weymouth pine, make a dark wilderness that inspires a feeling of awe.

The valley of the Gap leaves the river just room enough to force its way between the steep walls of rock; and, if you turn and look back in this interesting ravine, you see against a steep-wooded height what is called the Indian ladder. There are several islands in this part of the river, which are partially stripped of their wood by the action of the current, but some of them have pretty lofty trees on them. At the distance of about a mile from the narrowest part of the Gap, we reached a lonely house, where a man, six feet high, and very corpulent, came to meet us; he was of German descent, and his name was Dietrich. He would willingly have received us for the night in his small public-house, but there was no accommodation for our horses, and we therefore proceeded on our journey. In a short time we reached an eminence, at the turn of the rocky wall, where the solitary dwelling of a Frenchman, named Dutot, is built on a steep rock, high above the river. From this place the valley becomes more open, and the mountains less steep as you recede from the Delaware. A bad road leads over some eminences to a large open place in the woods, forming a hollow, where the poor little village, Dutotsburg, consisting of twelve or thirteen scattered dwellings, is situated. Here we took up our night's lodging in a tolerable public-house, which is also the post-office for the stages, and is kept by a farmer named Broadhead.

We had scarcely taken a little rest, when a poor old man entered, who was the first person that had settled in this part of the country; his name was Dutot, and the village was called after him. He was formerly a wealthy planter in St. Domingo, and possessed 150 slaves; but, being obliged to fly during the revolution, had purchased a considerable piece of land here on the Delaware, and commenced building Dutotsburg. He had previously lost part of his property by the capture of ships, and his speculations here too seem to have failed. The property melted away, and the last remnant of his possessions was sold. He had built houses and sold them, so that he might be called the founder of the whole of Dutotsburg; yet, after all this, he is reduced to a state of great poverty, and his situation excites the compassion of travellers who pass that way.

As the country about Delaware Gap was highly interesting to me, we remained here on the following day, the 24th of August. We were early in motion, when the rising sun beautifully illumined the mountains. Our guide, Wöhler, had accompanied young Broadhead on a shooting excursion in the woods; the rest of us went different ways, each with his gun, till breakfast time. Near the village, a small stream, the Cherry Creek, meandered through the thickets and meadows, where numbers of birds came to drink, while the report of the fowling-pieces of our sportsmen 35 echoed from the neighbouring wood. After our return, I accompanied old Dutot to see his house and his family. He himself had nearly forgotten his native language, and his family knew nothing of it. We found in this house a delightful view into the ravine of the Delaware below, and afterwards took the way to the romantic wild tract which we passed through on the preceding evening. Several plants were here pointed out to me, to the roots of which the inhabitants of the country ascribe great medicinal virtues; for instance, the snake root, perhaps Aristolochia serpentaria, which is said immediately to stanch the most violent bleeding of any wound; and, above all, the lion's heart (Prenanthes rubicunda), which is commended as a sovereign remedy against the bite of serpents. Old Dutot related a number of successful cures which he had performed with this root. This plant has a tall flower stem with many flowers, and large arrow-shaped leaves; its root is partly tuberous, partly long, pretty large, and branching, of a reddish yellow colour, and contains a milky juice. It is boiled with milk, and two table-spoonfuls are taken as a dose. The swelling, caused by the bite of the reptile, is said speedily to disappear, after chewing the root. The Delaware Indians, who formerly inhabited all Pennsylvania, made this remedy known to an old man, from whom it was inherited by the family of Dutot. The latter had himself been among the Indians, and gave me some information respecting them. They, as well as the river, were called after an English nobleman, but they named themselves Leni Lenape, that is, the aboriginal, or chief race of mankind, and they called the river Lenapewi-hittuck (river of the Lenape). They are the Loups, or Abenaquis of the French, inhabited Pennsylvania, New Jersey, &c., and were formerly a powerful tribe. A great part of them dwelt, subsequently, on the White River, in Indiana, after they had been much reduced by the whites; but, in 1818, they were compelled to sell the whole of this tract of country also, to the Government of the United States, and lands have been allotted to them beyond the Mississippi, where some half-degenerate remnants of them still live. They are said to have previously dwelt between fifty and sixty years in the territory of the present state of Ohio. They buried their dead in the islands of the Delaware, which are now partly in possession of old Dutot, but wholly uncultivated, and of little importance. It is said that human bones are still constantly met with on turning up the ground, and that, formerly, Indian corpses were found buried in an upright position, which, however, seems to be uncertain, and with them a quantity of arrow-heads and axes of flint; but all these things were disregarded and thrown away, nor had Dutot anything remaining but a thin, smoothly polished stone cylinder, with which those Indians used to pound their maize. I was filled with melancholy by the reflection that, in the whole of the extensive state of Pennsylvania, there is not a trace remaining of the aboriginal population. O! land of liberty!

Our excursion was extended to the public-house situated on the other side of the Delaware Gap, where we found a live specimen of the red fox of this country (Canis fulvus, Desm.), which we had not before met with. Loaded with plants, and other interesting objects, we returned to 36 Broadhead's house, where all the persons of our party successively arrived, each with something interesting. Some boys brought me the beautiful water-snake which we had seen on the preceding day. Mr. Bodmer had taken a faithful view of the Gap, near Dietrich's public-house.

We left Broadhead's on the 25th of August, early in the morning. The place which we wished to reach on this day is called the Pokono, and is the most elevated point of the first chain of the Alleghanys or Blue Mountains. Our road led in a south-westerly direction, along Cherry Creek, through a pleasant valley diversified with meadows, thickets, and woods, and gradually ascending.

As we rose higher and higher over gentle hills, we met a disagreeable, raw, cold wind, and reached, on the elevated plain, an isolated church, with a few habitations round it. On our asking the name of the place, a person, pretty well dressed, said, "he did not himself know the name of the place; the clergyman, a German, came, about once in a month, from Mount Bethel, to preach here."

On reaching the top, we saw before us the highest ridge of the Blue Mountains, the summit of which, as I have said, is called Pokono, where an unbroken tract of dark forests covers the whole wilderness. We gradually advanced towards a more bleak and elevated region, where pines and firs more and more predominated. On an elevated plain we were surrounded, as far as the eye could reach, with woods or thickets of low oaks, from which numbers of slender, half-dried, short-branched pines (Pinus rigida) shot up. These pines originally formed the forest—the oaks, only the underwood; but the former have, for the most part, perished in the fires, with which the settlers have, in the most unwarrantable manner, without any necessity whatever, destroyed these primeval forests. On a part of the highland, cleared of wood, through which the road passes, we saw a row of new wooden houses, and at once perceived that timber is the source of the subsistence of the inhabitants. Boards, planks, shingles, everywhere lay about, and large quantities are exported. Shops, where most of the common necessaries of life were sold, had already been established in this new settlement.

From this place, called Chestnut Hill, from the abundance of chestnut trees in the forests, the road declines a little, and you see, on all sides, numerous saw mills, which prepare for use the chief product of the country. The outside cuts of the pine and firs were piled up in large stacks; scarcely any use is made of them, and they may be bought for a trifle. We had to pass five or six times the windings of Pokonbochko Creek, the banks of which are agreeably bordered with thickets of alder, birch, willow-leaved spiræa, and the Lobelia cardinalis. A great number of skins of different animals were hung up at the house of a tanner, such as grey and red foxes, racoons, lynxes, &c., which led us to ask what beasts of the chase were to be met with, and we learned that deer and other large animals are still numerous. Rattlesnakes abound in these parts; they showed us many of their skins stuffed, and one very large one was hung up on the 37 gable end of a house. Some persons eat these dangerous serpents from a notion that, when dressed in a certain manner, they are an effectual remedy against many diseases.

We had here a foretaste of the wild scenery of North America, which we might expect to find in perfection, in uninterrupted primeval forests on the Pokono; we, therefore, did not stop here, but hastened to the less inhabited, more elevated, and wilder region, where the mixture of firs in the forest already began to preponderate. We halted, and took our dinner at an isolated public-house, kept by a man of German origin, whose name is Meerwein. Forests surrounded the verdant meadows about the house, in which woodcocks were numerous. In a little excursion in the forest I saw splendid bushes of Rhododendron maximum, kalmia, Andromeda, Rhodora canadensis, Ceanothus vaccinum; and in the shade of the first, Orchis ciliata, with its beautiful orange-coloured flowers, which is found also nearer to Bethlehem.

The entertainment in this solitary house was pretty good and reasonable; all the inmates, except one man, were Germans. If we had stopped for the night, they would have gone out for us with their guns, as deer and pheasants abound in the forests. Having taken the opportunity of forwarding our collections to Bethlehem by the stage which passed the house, we proceeded on our journey. From this place the road continues to ascend, traversing a fine thick wood, frequently crossing the stream. An undergrowth of scrub oak and chestnut is spread uniformly, and without interruption, over the whole country, the pines, as already mentioned, rising above it, most of which have suffered by fire; for in the dry season these woods have often been destroyed by extensive conflagrations, which have generally been caused by the negligence of the wood-cutters and hunters. Even now, clouds of smoke rose at a distance, and announced a fire in this great lonely wilderness. The high road is here carried directly through the forest; it is, for the most part, laid with wood, covered with earth, which requires carriages with good springs.

When you have nearly reached the most elevated part of this wilderness, and look back, you have a grand prospect. Lofty ridges rise one above another in a narrow valley, all covered with dark forests, and, on the right and left, high walls of rock close the valley. We soon reached the highest summit of the Pokono, or second chain of the Blue Mountains, which, as I have said, forms the most easterly of the Alleghanys.

Mr. Moser, a young botanist, had accompanied us from Bethlehem, and I undertook with him an excursion to a neighbouring lake on the top of the Pokono, while Dr. Saynisch prepared the birds that had been killed, and our other hunters went out to look for stags and woodhens.

We proceeded about half an hour along the high road, when we perceived the summit of the Pokono, and then turned to the right towards an old decayed cottage, where oxen were grazing among the thick bushes, and followed a scarcely perceptible path through the wilderness. We crossed a valley, with thickets and scorched pines rising above them, where the ground was covered with various kinds of plants. An old path led us half a league over an eminence; after which we 38 found a valley, where the lake, called Long Pond, is situated, surrounded by low reeds and rushes, among pine woods and various interesting shrubs. On the narrow lake we found a small boat, in which Mr. Moser pushed about to botanize. He procured in this manner the pretty blue flowering Pontederia lanceolata, a red flowering utricularia, nymphæa, &c. Though this wilderness was perfectly lonely, we did not see any water-fowl, and, in fact, very little animal life, so that the botanist finds much more employment than the zoologist. The lake is about a mile long, has but little open or clear water, and receives its supply from the Tonkhanna Brook. When Mr. Moser reached the bank again, he called to me that he was very near a rattlesnake, the rattle of which he had distinctly heard; but, though we looked diligently, we could not find the animal which we had long wished to possess, because the ground was so thickly overgrown with plants. One of the sons of Mr. Sachs, our landlord, had been lately bitten by a rattlesnake while fishing, and they affirmed that he was soon cured by tea made of the bark of the white ash, which is said to be an infallible antidote to the bite of serpents.

At noon, while we were all taking some repose, we were suddenly alarmed. A mink, or minx (Mustela vison), a small beast of prey, resembling the European lesser otter, had had the boldness to attack, in broad daylight, the poultry that were about the house, and was shot. Our hunters had had no success, a single pheasant being all they had procured.

In the afternoon Mr. Bodmer joined us, having been driven hither by Broadhead. We immediately went out to look in the neighbourhood of the Sand springs for a bear-trap, with an iron plate fastened to a chain, which was carefully covered up and concealed. Mr. Moser, who thought he could find the place, led us astray, but we amused ourselves with the interesting vegetation.

We made but little addition to our ornithological collections, scarcely anything having been killed but the whip-poor-will (Caprimulgus Virginianus), which is very numerous in all these forests. Day had scarcely dawned on the 17th of August, when our whole company was in motion to go seven miles to the house of another Sachs (a near relation of our host), whose widow lived there. For about a mile the wood retains the same character, the firs then attain a greater height, and are closer together. The wood had been cleared around some houses, and Phytolacea, Verbascum, and Rhus typhinum, which occupy all the uncultivated spots in Pennsylvania, immediately sprang up. The small habitations were built entirely of wood, and generally painted a reddish brown. In some places we observed traces of fire: the low scrub oaks were scorched and black, and were putting forth shoots from the stumps and roots. At times we had an extensive view of the mountains, uniformly clothed with dark pine forests, everywhere high tops and ridges, and all around black woods. The Canadian and the Virginian pine were high and close together, especially in the valleys. The soil in this part is not very fertile, and requires to be well manured. All is forest and wilderness, and bears, deer, and other wild animals abound. 39 The Tonkhanna meanders picturesquely between thickets, and the Lobelia cardinalis was in blossom on its banks. Bull-frogs appeared here, as on the banks of the Lehigh at Bethlehem, and the same species of butterflies as are found there. Not far from this place we came to a second very romantic brook, the Tobihanna, over which a short, covered bridge is thrown, and about 300 paces further, reached the lonely habitation of the Widow Sachs, in a desert spot without wood, where we were to pass the night.

Mrs. Sachs gave us tolerable quarters, and I immediately sent for the most expert hunters of the neighbourhood, in order, if possible, to procure a bear or a stag. Three or four men came who were ready to go for a remuneration. One of them had but a few days before, met with two bears and their young, among the bilberry bushes, and shot two of them. I obtained from him a fine large skin of one of them, and several interesting stags' horns.

The part of the country in which we now were was so lonely, wild, and grand, that we immediately took our fowling-pieces to ramble about. The Tobihanna, over which is the above-mentioned bridge, thirty or forty paces in length, is a pretty considerable stream, and the surrounding scenery is extremely picturesque. It is enclosed in rather high banks, overhung with fine, dark, primeval forests of Canadian pine trees, here called spruce fir, mixed with isolated trees of various kinds, and with a very close underwood of colossal Rhododendron maximum, thicker than a man's arm, whose dense masses of foliage, with their dark green, laurel-like leaves hang down over the water, and are often mixed with the beautiful Kalmia latifolia. Even now, the appearance of this dark thicket on the bank was magnificent; how much more beautiful must it be when in blossom! The black forest of gigantic firs, crowded together, rises in awful gloom, here and there relieved by the light green foliage of other trees. These majestic pine forests have hitherto been visited by only a few settlers, and have escaped the great conflagrations which have deprived the skirts of these wooded mountains of part of their lofty stems. We were charmed with this North American wilderness, where Nature is, indeed, less vigorous, and poorer than in the hot climates, but still has a striking, though very different character of solemn and sublime grandeur. Mr. Bodmer immediately chose a place to sketch the above-mentioned beautiful brook, while the rest of our party strolled through the forest. Old decayed trees, often singularly hollowed, and roots of firs covered with moss, spreading over the surface in all directions, hindered us from penetrating far into this wilderness. A dark, damp shade received us here in the heat of the day, and the three-striped viper, of which there are 40 numbers under the old, decayed trunks, frequently fled as we advanced. Rattlesnakes are said to be less common than in the parts which we had before visited. Birds were not numerous in the deep recesses of these forests; only the hammering of the woodpeckers resounded in the awful wilderness. In places where there was much underwood, very thick stems of rhododendron, often from ten to twenty feet high, formed an intricate, impenetrable thicket. It was now perfectly dark, and we found the most beautiful natural arbours. The Kalmia latifolia, too, grew to the height of eight or ten feet. This country was so wild and attractive that I resolved to stop another day. To the north-east of the solitary dwelling of the Widow Sachs, was a fine beech forest, among the underwood of which pheasants were pretty numerous. We procured some of them, but I could not yet succeed in obtaining a stag or a bear.

On the 28th of August we undertook an excursion to see the bear-trap, in which one of those animals had been caught two or three days before. The man who owned this trap lived on the road between Tonkhanna and the Tobihanna, both of which flow into the Lehigh. He had appointed his house for our rendezvous, where we saw the skin of the bear, lately taken, nailed up against the gable end to dry. The saw-mill of our bear-catcher lay in a rude valley, to the south-west of the road. We came to this saw-mill, in a solitary valley, on the Tonkhanna, which rushes, roaring and foaming over rocks covered with black moss, between old broken pines, in a true primeval wilderness. In this retreat for bears, prickly smilax, brambles, and other thorny plants, tear the strongest hunting dress, and leather alone resists these enemies. At every step we had to clamber over fallen trunks of trees, to the injury of our shins, which were almost always bleeding. We found our guide, who, though it poured of rain, took his rifle, and went before, to lead us to the bear-trap.

The trap was in a place rather bare of thick stems, between young pines, and made of large logs, in such a manner that a young bear might be taken alive in it. It consisted of two round stems lying flat on the ground, between which two others, which are supported by a prop, are made to fit, and fall down when the prop is touched. a is the base on which the two logs, b, rest; c, the two suspended logs, which fall as soon as the bear touches the bait, fixed in e, at the lower end of the rack f. The pole A, A, which is set in the rack f, rests in front on the prop g, and supports in h, by means of a withe, the logs c, c, c, c. When the bear touches the bait, the rack f moves, the pole A, A, becomes free, and lets the logs c, c, c, c, fall, which catch or kill the animal. The whole is covered with green fir boughs when the trap is set, and all the parts must have their bark on. The bear caught here, some days before, was about a year old, so that there was room for him between the logs; and as he was not large, and had entered the trap in front and not from the side, his life was prolonged a little. He was shot in the trap, and his head used as a bait; we took the head away with us, and the owner of the trap substituted a piece of the animal's lungs in its stead.

After a hasty sketch had been made of the bear-trap, we set out on our return; I very much regretted leaving the magnificent wilderness. On the way we found a fine viburnum, with large reddish leaves, and the Oxalis acetosella, which grew in abundance among the moss and decaying trunks of trees. The loud hammering of the woodpeckers resounded in this forest, and we shot the great spotted woodpecker of this country, which very much resembles our Picus major; for dinner we had bear's flesh, which we thought resembled mutton.

When I returned to the house of Sachs, I found the hunters, whom I had hired, in no little confusion. One of them, in particular, after receiving his wages for the first day, had remained in the public-house the whole night and the following morning. Stretched at length on a table, he had slept off the effects of his drunken fit, talked big, and found here a willing audience, a number of drinkers of whisky being collected in this place. Brandy drinking is far more common among the lower classes in America than with us; and here, on the Pokono, this bad habit was peculiarly prevalent among the country people. Not far from Tobihanna Creek there was a small wooden house, ten or twelve feet square, with a little iron stove (see the view of the Tobihanna Bridge), in which a school was kept. The stalls for cattle, swine, and sheep, are, for the most part, cages, the bars of which being pretty wide apart, the cold winter wind blows freely through them; nay, many of them had half fallen to pieces. The swine, which ran about in great numbers, had a triangular yoke round their necks to hinder them from getting through the fences. In all this part of the country, garden vegetables are raised in beds, or rather boxes, filled with mould, elevated on four posts. The seeds are sown in these boxes, and the young plants not transplanted till they have acquired a certain growth, otherwise they would be destroyed by the insects. Maple sugar is not made here, because the tree does not grow in sufficient abundance. The 42 chief occupation of the settlers, in this part, is the making of shingles, which are manufactured from the Weymouth pine. We were assured, that these peasants steal the greater part of the wood for their shingles, in the forests belonging to greater landowners, who live at a distance, and have no keepers to protect their property. One workman can make in a day 300 or 400 shingles, which are sold on the spot for half-a-dollar per 100. They are sent to all the neighbouring country, in large wagons drawn by four horses. At Bethlehem, forty-two miles from Pokono, the best shingles were sold, at that time, for eleven dollars per 1,000. These shingles are of two kinds; the German, made by Germans, who first manufactured them in this way, which are considered to be the best, and the English; the former are equally thick at both edges, the latter thicker at one side than the other. Many persons, whose horses are not otherwise employed, come here and fetch shingles.

On the 29th of August we continued our journey through forests that extended, without interruption, on all sides. After crossing a bridge over the little brook called Two-miles-run, we came to an open spot in the forest, where the great village of Stoddartsville is built on the Lehigh, which at this place is still an inconsiderable stream. The environs of the place are still wild. Stumps of trees, cut or sawed off two or three feet from the ground, were everywhere seen, and this newly-cleared spot was still covered with wild plants. As you come down the hill, you look directly into the street of the place, to which some neat and pretty houses give a very striking effect in this wilderness. We continued our journey over wooded eminences, where bears and stags are said to be still numerous. Having passed Bear Creek and Ten-miles-run Creek, we soon reached the Pokono, or highest summit of the Blue Mountains, and began gradually to descend. In the forests through which we now passed, the firs began to give way to other timber trees, and the woods are again more burnt and ruined, frequently consisting only of shoots from the stumps of oaks, chestnuts, maples, and sassafras trees, with single pines everywhere rising above them, as the palms in Brazil do, above the lower Dicotyledones.

On one of the next eminences, we came to another lofty point, whence we had the most extensive view, backwards and forwards, that we had yet enjoyed in these mountains. Towards the north-west lies the beautiful valley of Wyoming, through which the Susquehannah flows; and backwards, in the opposite direction, a rude prospect of wood and mountain, where peak rises above peak, and the eye ranges over an uninterrupted extent of immense forests. It is said to have been ascertained, by actual measurement, that this spot is 1,050 feet above the level of the Atlantic. Unfortunately, our time would not allow us to take a drawing of this grand prospect. From this place we began to descend into the valley of the Susquehannah, where the woods assume a more cheerful character, the firs being soon entirely succeeded by the oak, chestnut, and other timber trees. The road resembles an avenue, overshadowed by lofty oaks, tulip, chestnut, walnut, beech, hornbeam, birch, maple, elm, nyssa, and other trees, growing very close 43 together. Here we already see the formation of the conglomerate—the precursor of the coal district, which we now enter. When we had descended rather more than half way down the declivity of the mountain, we were taken about 200 paces to the right of the road, to be surprised by the beautiful prospect of the valley of Wyoming, or the Susquehannah. A group of rocks of conglomerate rises, isolated in the forest, and, on ascending it, you have a magnificent view. The broad and extensive valley, covered with towns and detached houses, alternates agreeably with forests and fields; the river flows through its whole length, and at our feet lay the pretty town of Wilkesbarre, the streets of which we could overlook. It is manifest, at a glance, that the whole of the valley was formerly covered with a thick primeval forest, for strips of wood everywhere traverse the fields.

Proceeding on our journey we came to a solitary public-house, where we met with a rattlesnake. I bought it, and it was put into brandy, as a live creature of this kind is not the most agreeable travelling companion. This snake had been kept three weeks in a box, and had not taken any nourishment whatever, so that it moved its rattle but faintly when it was irritated. As it was a very large and handsome specimen, I paid two dollars and a half for it. The landlady, a very corpulent personage, was in a very light morning dress when she concluded the bargain with me, and not being able to give me change, she immediately threw on her Sunday clothes, to follow our carriage on foot, and settle the account at Wilkesbarre. Her head was adorned with a large fashionable straw hat; she had a silk gown, and a silk parasol, which she might very well have spared, protected her tanned face from the sun. It was remarkable that, heavy as she was, she reached the town as soon as we did, though we had half a league to go. Wilkesbarre, in Lucerne county, is a place with about 1,200 inhabitants, with three churches, a court-house, a bank, &c. The streets are pretty regular, and the buildings separated by gardens and intermediate spaces. The place has its singular name from the first settlers, who were called Wilkes and Barre. The population consists of handicraftsmen, field labourers, storekeepers, and merchants; and several of the inhabitants are interested in the important coal mines, situated to the west of the road which we had taken. This bed of coals is said to extend fourteen miles along the slope of the valley of the Susquehannah, and then to continue over other eminences, of which there will be occasion to speak in the sequel. For the purpose of conveying the coals by water, a canal has been dug, which was not quite completed, and which is to form a communication between the coal mines and the Susquehannah. On the other side of the river the great Pennsylvania canal is already finished, which connects Pennsylvania with Maryland by means of the Susquehannah. This last canal, which is divided into several parts, will be continued to Baltimore, the chief seaport, but it is not yet quite completed. Pennsylvania is already intersected by numerous canals, which connect the rivers, and are of the highest importance by the facilities they afford to inland trade.

44 The inn at which we put up at Wilkesbarre was kept by a German, named Christ, who recommended to our notice some interesting points in the environs; and we, therefore, did not take the usual road at the bottom of the valley, but soon turned aside from the Susquehannah, into a wild, lateral valley, in which there are fine waterfalls. At less than a league from Wilkesbarre, we reached, at the foot of the mountain, a wild, thickly-wooded ravine, where we soon heard the roaring of Solomon Creek. Near a mill, the owner of which is General Ross, this stream forms some highly picturesque cascades over smooth, perpendicular black rocks, covered with moss, forming a basin below, in a thick forest of pine and other timber. There are two cascades, one above the other, of which the second is the largest; then comes the last and highest, where the water, conducted from the mill directly across the ravine, falls perpendicularly, about the height of a house, over a steep rock. It was, unfortunately, too late, when we arrived, to make a drawing of this interesting scene. We asked for accommodation for the night in the mill, which is a roomy house; but our countryman (this man's mother was born in Germany) could not, or would not, receive us. They gave us some of the water of the stream to drink, which had a strong taste of iron and sulphur. As it was not possible to find a lodging in the neighbourhood, we were advised to proceed three miles to the top of the mountain, which we, indeed, accomplished, but had nearly had reason to repent of our resolution.

The road ascends on the left rocky bank of Solomon Creek, in a thick forest, over rough ground, so that we constantly had the steep precipice on the right hand. There was no room for two carriages to pass; luckily, carriages are rare in this remote wilderness. As we had been told that there was abundance of wild animals, we loaded our fowling-pieces with ball. We now turned to ascend in a wooded defile, where a couple of solitary miserable dwellings, built of trunks of trees, scarcely left room for a small field or a little garden overgrown with weeds. While the road became more and more rude, and obstructed by the vegetation, twilight set in, and it was only with the greatest efforts that our horses could draw the carriages among rocks and fallen trunks of trees, and nothing but the greatest care prevented them from being overturned. We met several peasants, with their axes and guns, returning from their work in the woods: they were robust, savage-looking, powerful men, whose sudden appearance in such a lonely spot might elsewhere have excited suspicion. There are no robbers in these parts; at least, I never heard of any, but it must be owned that the place is extremely well suited to them. The beautiful cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis) grew in such abundance in the swampy parts of the wood, as to form a fine red carpet. The Chelone obliqua, with its white flowers, was likewise very common.

At length the moon rose bright and clear to relieve us from our unpleasant situation, and cheered by her friendly beams the gloomy path of the wanderer. When we reached the summit the road divided into two branches, of which we were so lucky as to choose the right one. At 45 length, about nine in the evening, we had the pleasure of seeing a light; and a lonely house, in an open spot, lay before us. On our knocking, the door was slowly opened. We entered a poor hut, where two women—one an elderly person, the other younger—were sitting by the fireside. The master of the house, whose name was Wright, was not at home. The two women were very tall, and were smoking, quite at their ease, small clay pipes. They were not a little surprised at so late a visit, but soon stirred up the fire, and set on water. Our frugal supper, consisting of coffee and potatoes, was soon finished, and we lay down in our clothes on tolerable beds, placed in a large unfurnished room, which in this country are almost always made for two persons. This house belongs to Hanover township; the settlement itself had not yet any name. Only English was spoken here. Not far from the house the Wapalpi Creek ran through the thickets towards the ravine.

The night was soon passed, and at six in the morning we proceeded on our journey. In order to take a view of the Falls of Solomon Creek, Mr. Bodmer left us, and returned to the mill, with the intention of joining us again at Bethlehem, by taking another road. John Wright, brother to our host, lived three miles off, in a little rude valley, where we intended to breakfast. Some men, who were going to hay-making, with their guns and dogs, met us. The inhabitants of these woods generally take their guns when they go to their work, as they frequently have opportunities of killing some large game. They have powerful dogs, resembling our German bloodhounds, brown or black, with red marks; or striped like the wolf, and sometimes, but seldom, their ears are cropped. These dogs are used in chasing the bear or the stag.

In a romantic wooded valley we reached the solitary dwelling of John Wright, where we halted. The mistress of the house, who, with a little boy, was alone at home, gave us a very friendly reception, and prepared us a breakfast with coffee; all very clean and good for this retired spot. In the course of conversation we learned that she was of German descent, and born at Tomaqua. She lived here in a pretty roomy log-house, with a chimney and iron stove; yet she said that in winter it was often very cold in the room, the walls of which were, indeed, not quite air-tight. In many rooms in these mountains we found two iron stoves. Leaving these scattered dwellings of Hanover township, we reached, in five hours, the Nescopeck Valley, eleven miles from our last night's quarters, the road to which is bad, little frequented, and in part stony, gently ascending and descending, and passing through ruined forests, such as have already been described. In some places the wood is thicker, in others the sides of the mountains had been quite cleared, and were covered with young shoots and some higher trees; small streams, here called runs, flow in the defiles and valleys; the bridges of beams over which were, for the most part, so rotten, 46 and in such bad condition, that horses and carriages could not pass without danger. We saw no human beings or dwellings on this road, nor any animals except some small birds and frogs. After this rather monotonous journey, we were glad to descend into the Nescopeck Valley, and reached it, at the mill of one Bug, of German descent, where we refreshed ourselves with milk and brandy. The Nescopeck Creek, a pretty considerable stream, which turns several mills, flows through this beautiful wooded valley. This district belongs to Sugarloaf township, in Lucerne county.

After we had watered our horses, and the miller had questioned us about his native Germany, we crossed the bridge over the stream, ascended the mountain on the other side, and reached an inn on the summit, from which it is eighteen miles to Wilkesbarre. Proceeding from this place, we crossed the valley of the little Nescopeck Creek, which is covered with lofty trees, then passed the little Black Creek, and afterwards came to a high mountain wall, with a beautiful wood of various forest trees, which the inhabitants, who are mostly of German origin, call the Bocksberg. German is everywhere spoken here.

From the mill, the way leads through a thick underwood of shrub-like oaks, with a few higher trees, and we soon reached the high road from Berwick, in the Susquehannah Valley, along which we proceeded to Mauch Chunk, where two stage-coaches pass daily.

We took this road, and soon came to an inn, kept by a German named Anders, who likewise had a saw-mill. The host had, a short time before, caught an old she-bear in a trap, and in the three following days her three cubs, which he sold to travellers passing that way. The point where we now were is called the Hasel Swamp; and, proceeding onwards, we passed Pismire Hill, where rattlesnakes are said to abound. We observed, too late, a very large animal of this kind dead in the road, one of the wheels of our carriage having crushed the head of the snake, which was otherwise in a good state of preservation. My driver laid it in a natural position by the road-side, and I have no doubt that it was again knocked on the head by some other traveller. The marshy tract through which the Beaver Creek flows, is called Beaver Meadow, and is covered with willow bushes. It is probable that beavers may have formerly been numerous here, at least the place is quite suited to them; but those harmless animals have been long since extirpated. We came next to a considerable eminence, called Spring Mountain, which we ascended, and then rapidly descended, always through a thick forest, where we observed, on both sides of the way, the Grauwacke formation. On reaching the bottom of Spring Mountain we entered a wide valley, both the steep sides and bottom of which are covered with thick woods, only thinned a little round the habitations. In the middle of the valley, directly before us, six or seven buildings, in a broad street, formed the village of Lausanne, five or six hundred paces below which the Quackack Brook flows through the valley. A Jew keeps here a public-house and shop, where we met likewise with newspapers.

47 Beyond Lausanne is a high mountain, called Broad Mountain, up which the road is carried in an oblique direction. Trees and shrubs form everywhere a very thick but ruined forest, in which there is scarcely any serviceable timber. The view back over the extensive and wild valley of Lausanne was extremely interesting. One can hardly fancy this sublime and rude country without its aboriginal red inhabitants. The wide and hollow valley is everywhere covered with dense forests; and the little village of Lausanne is scarcely to be seen amidst the dark green foliage. On the Broad Mountain we find again the same formation of conglomerate, which I have before mentioned; the beds of coal are at a small distance. On the side which we descended the wood is more beautiful, the trees taller than on the edge of the mountain; oaks, chestnuts, and other trees, were very vigorous and luxuriant. Several planters have formed detached settlements here, among whom an Irishman was pointed out to us, who had lately been arrested on an accusation of murder, but had been since set at liberty.

The Neskihone or Neskihoning Valley, into which we now descended, is wide, and enclosed by very high, far-extending walls of rock, everywhere covered with thick woods, in which some small cultivated patches are here and there seen. Along the right, or southern wall, an iron railroad has been laid down, which forms a communication between one of the coal mines of the Mauch Chunk Company, on the Rumrun Creek, and Mauch Chunk. It runs down into the valley of the Lehigh, which it follows to the last-named place. The appearance of the valley is very wild and picturesque; the Neskihone, which you pass at a saw-mill, flows at the bottom of it, and then turns to the left into the beautiful valley of the Lehigh, into which the Neskihone empties itself. The Lehigh comes on the left hand, out of a deep, extremely wild mountain valley, or dark glen, the entrance to which is entirely concealed by lofty, steep wooded mountains. Its glassy surface shines, half hid by tall shady oaks, beeches, and chestnuts; and the whole is one of the most interesting scenes that I met with in Pennsylvania. The road from this place to the Lehigh Valley is agreeably shaded by high trees, and on the banks of the river there are several dwelling-houses and inns. In a quarter of an hour we reached Mauch Chunk, now celebrated as the central point of the Lehigh coal district.

CHAPTER V

DESCRIPTION OF MAUCH CHUNK AND ITS COAL MINES—JOURNEY THROUGH THE LEHIGH VALLEY TO BETHLEHEM, AND LAST RESIDENCE IN THAT TOWN, FROM AUGUST 31ST TO SEPTEMBER 16TH

Mauch Chunk—The Coal Mines—Lehighton—Mahoning Creek and Valley—Gnadenhütten, a destroyed Colony of the Moravian Brethren—Weissport—Lehigh Gap—The Devil's Pulpit—Berlin—Crytersville—Howard Town—Schoner's Town—Last Residence in Bethlehem.

Mauch Chunk is a village of about 200 houses, in the deep and narrow Lehigh Valley. The houses form almost one row only, and a small street in the lateral valley of the Mauch Chunk stream. This place has sprung up since the discovery of the very rich coal mines in the vicinity. The Lehigh Company employs from 800 to 1000 workmen, and supplies the whole surrounding country with the very fine coals obtained here. Several iron railroads, leading to the works, have already been made, canals dug to export the coals in numerous barges, great works erected, a large and capital inn established in the valley of the Lehigh, and mills of various kinds built; and travellers ought by no means to neglect this highly interesting spot. This deep and wild valley, which is enclosed on every side by wooded mountains from 800 to 1000 feet high, has become, within a few years, a scene of action and profitable industry, which will soon render this spot one of the most remarkable in Pennsylvania. The principal work, to which an iron railroad has been made, lies on a considerable eminence, nine miles from Mauch Chunk. On the 31st of August, we visited this interesting spot.

As the railroad runs up along the declivity, it has been necessary to cut it obliquely; it is, therefore, narrow, with only one line; and places, at certain intervals, to allow two carriages to pass. For the convenience of travellers who wish to see the works, a stage-coach has been established, which is drawn up by two horses. Our company assembled at the inn, and ascended, by a steep path, from the town, to the iron railroad, which runs a little above the village. The 49 railroad stages are light carriages, with four low wheels, and seats for eight persons; they are covered at top, and open at the sides. The wheels are of iron, and have a groove, which fits into the rail, and runs upon it. The driver sits in front, and has a long tin horn, which he blows, to announce his approach to such as may be coming in the opposite direction; in the other hand he holds, in the descent, the machine with which the carriage is stopped when necessary. This contrivance consists of a pole, at the lower end of which there is a stuffed leather cushion, which, by moving the pole, is brought close to the wheels, and by its friction checks the rapidity of the motion. As a train of coal-wagons was expected, we slackened our pace. The two stages were fastened together, and though both were quite full of passengers, a couple of horses drew them up with great ease. We had not proceeded far, when we heard the rolling of a train of coal-wagons. It was interesting to see the black train advance, and dart by us with the rapidity of an arrow. These are built of strong beams and planks; each contains two tons of coals, and forty-five wagons go at the same time, which carry 90 tons; they run five times a day, thus 450 tons, or 25,200 bushels, are brought down to Mauch Chunk daily. Every fifteen wagons are fastened together by strong iron bands, and in the middle of this train is a man who holds a chain in his hand, by means of which he can check the rapidity of the motion, or even stop it entirely. Four or five hundred paces behind the first column comes the second, and then, at an equal distance, the third, and after these, seven wagons, in each of which there are four mules, with provender, and a bridge for them to get in and out. Their heads are turned to the front, and they eat quietly, as they descend. These mules are to draw up the empty coal wagons.

It was interesting to see the thundering column approach us, and then hasten by. As soon as it had passed, our horses trotted up the mountain, which could not be attempted, except on an iron railroad. The road runs along the rocky wall, always through a forest, where single settlers have here and there built their little wooden dwellings. Cattle were feeding in the neighbourhood, whose bells we heard in the woods. The valley at our left hand was very wild and romantic. Both the high mountain and the valley below, in which the Mauch Chunk flows, are clothed with a forest of fir and other timber, and wild vines twine about the bushes by the road-side. The number of miles is marked on white boards nailed to the trees. When we reached the top we came to an inn, which had a small park with Virginian deer. The fawns of these deer were still spotted a little at the end of August.

As soon as our company had rested a little, and taken some refreshment, as it was very hot, we got again into our carriage, and proceeded, this time without horses, to the coal mines, about ten minutes from our inn, to which the railroad declines a little. You reach these interesting works by a deep section of the upper stratum of sandstone, and then enter the pits, which may be 300 paces long, 150 wide, and 30 feet deep; quite open at top, having been gradually sunk to that depth. 112 men were at work in and about these mines, and 130 mules were employed 50 in conveying the coals, which stand out, shining, and with a beautiful play of colours; in some places they are of better quality than in others. They are detached partly with iron crows, partly by gunpowder, broken into pieces with pickaxes, and loaded in the wagons. From one part of the mine to another there are little railroads, on which boxes with four wheels run like what is called the dog (hund), in our German mines, in which refuse and rubbish are removed. In this manner high heaps of rubbish have arisen about the pits, which extend further and further into the valley. In some parts of the works there are impressions of antediluvian plants, of which we found some interesting specimens. The labour of seeking, in a stooping attitude, was particularly disagreeable on this day, which was hotter than any that preceded it. When we returned from the works to our inn, the thermometer, at twelve o'clock, and in the house, was at 96°; to which we must add that the mine is 1,460 feet above the level of the sea. There was not a breath of air stirring, and everybody found the heat extremely oppressive.

To return to Mauch Chunk we again got into our carriage, but had now no need of horses; the driver shoved the carriage a few steps, leaped into his seat, and we immediately proceeded faster than a horse could gallop. We had travelled the greater part of the way in seventeen minutes, when we were obliged to halt, in order to let a train of wagons, returning, pass us, which detained us about twenty minutes; we then proceeded with the rapidity of an arrow, and travelled the whole distance of eight miles in thirty-two minutes. When we had reached the bottom we hastened to see the place where the wagons are unloaded.

At the end of the iron railroad is a building on the eminence, in which there is a large windlass, with an endless rope, which with one part lowers a loaded coal wagon, on an obliquely inclined iron railroad, down the mountain, while the other part draws up an empty wagon from below. The distance from the windlass to the place on the iron railway, where the wagons deposit the coals in a large shed, is above 700 feet. The mechanism of all these works is well worth seeing, and the whole establishment extremely interesting. Mr. White, one of the principal members of the Lehigh Company, is a man of much and varied knowledge, and particularly well acquainted with machinery. He has erected a saw-mill on the Lehigh, the construction of which is very ingenious. A single workman is able to saw 4,000 square feet of deal in twelve hours. The Company requires six such saw-mills in the Mauch Chunk, to saw the wood that it wants, because the coal barges are sent down the canal and the Delaware, and sold at Philadelphia as planks.

The road from Mauch Chunk through the Lehigh Valley, which we took, on the 31st of August, in the evening, is agreeable and diversified. A violent thunder-storm had passed over the valley, and had poured down torrents of rain, the traces of which were everywhere visible. We proceeded along the right bank of the river, in a rather sandy road, shaded by old trees. On 51 our right hand we had at first the steep wooded mountain, where Rubus odoratus and other beautiful plants grew amongst rude rocks. The mountains then recede, and fields, meadows, and detached dwellings, succeed.

We came to Lehighton, where the sign of the inn was conspicuous afar off. Lehighton is situated at no great distance from the opening of the Mahoning Valley, from which the Mahoning stream flows. This valley is wooded, has many settlements, and is well known from the destruction of Gnadenhütten, a small establishment, founded there by the Moravian Brethren. Some Delaware Indians, instigated, it is said, by neighbouring colonists, who were hostile to the Brethren, attacked the settlement, which they burnt, and killed eleven persons. Only four of the fifteen who composed the little colony escaped. Mr. Bodmer, who followed us from Wilkesbarre, visited the spot. He found among the bushes the tomb-stone which covers the remains of the victims, and made a drawing of it. The following is the inscription:—

TO THE MEMORY
OF
GOTTLIEB AND CHRISTINA ANDERS,
WITH THEIR CHILD JOHANNA;
MARTIN AND SUSANNAH NITSCHMANN;
ANN CATHARINE SENSEMANN;
LEONHARD GATTERMEYER;
CHRISTIAN FABRICIUS, CLERK;
GEORGE SCHWEIGERT;
JOHN FREDERIC LESLY; AND
MARTIN PRESSER;
WHO LIVED HERE AT GNADENHÜTTEN, UNTO THE LORD,
AND LOST THEIR LIVES IN A SURPRISE FROM
INDIAN WARRIORS,
NOVEMBER 24TH, 1755.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his Saints."
PSALM CXVI. 15.
1788, AND. W. BOVER, PHILADELPHIA.

On the lands at Gnadenhütten, which still belong to the Brethren, several farmers reside, among whom there is a singular female of no ordinary education, and, as it is said, of high rank, 52 whose real name is not known. She is said to have come from Germany, it is supposed from the principality of Lippe. Her sole employment is agriculture; she performs all manual labour herself, milks her cows, to which she has given names, and which she has tamed. She has rented a piece of land from the Brethren, which Mr. Von Schweinitz, as director of the council, let to her.

Near the issue of the Mahoning, or Mahony Valley, a wooden bridge has been built, in a picturesque situation, over the Lehigh. It is surrounded on all sides by fine lofty trees, and on the right hand the wooded eminences of the Mahony Valley overlook it. From this place we came to a level, open part of the valley, where a few scattered dwellings bear the name of Weissport. A man named Weiss proposed to build a town here, and had collected the names of many subscribers, but the town consists, at present, of only four detached houses.

Night set in, and the moon showed us, in the Blue Mountains before us, a deep cleft, called the Lehigh, or Lecha Gap, where that river passes through the mountain chain. At the Gap we halted at an isolated, but very good inn, kept by a man named Craig, son of the General of that name. He spoke both English and German, and we were very well accommodated in his house.

On the 1st of September we visited the Lehigh Gap, the mountains on the north side of which are low, rocky, and wooded. A projecting portion is called the Devil's Rock. Near the buildings there are great heaps of limestone thrown up, which is obtained from a mountain in the Mahony Valley. The lime is of bad quality, but serves very well for mortar. It contains a number of small bivalve shells. About eight o'clock we left the Lehigh Gap, and took the road to Bethlehem, where we arrived at noon, having passed through Berlin, Cryterville, Howard Town, and Schoner's Town.

Our baggage, which we had so long expected from Boston, arrived at length on the 4th of September, and as Mr. Bodmer rejoined us on the 10th, I should have thought of proceeding on our journey, did not the traveller often depend on accidents, which render it impossible to fix anything for certain. Mr. Bodmer, desiring to finish a drawing that he had begun, undertook a second visit to the Delaware Gap, and on this occasion was severely wounded by the bursting of his fowling-piece, which compelled us again to defer our departure. On our hunting excursions, we now saw the country in its autumnal dress. Night frosts had already set in, and the mornings were foggy, till the sun had risen pretty high, when a hot day followed. Most of the birds of passage were gone; no swallows were to be seen, and the wild pigeons passed by in large flocks. On a walk to Allentown, the capital of Lehigh County, which has 1,700 inhabitants, three churches, and a court-house, six miles from Bethlehem, we found, in the Lehigh Valley, several flocks of birds ready to depart. The blue birds (Sylvia sialis) were assembled, twenty together. The yellow woodpecker and the nuthatch were hovering about the gardens and fields, where 53 numbers were collected together. The plants that were in blossom in the fields and hedges were chiefly of the class Syngenesia.

The accounts of the progress of the cholera, which we daily received, were not favourable. In New York and Philadelphia, and more especially at Baltimore, the disorder was extremely dangerous; it had also spread in the country about the great lakes, and on Hudson's River, and had extended from Detroit to the Mississippi and Ohio. It seemed impossible to avoid it; I therefore chose the route down the Ohio, intending to make the Mississippi, in the following spring, the basis of our excursions into the Western wilds or the Indian country. We took leave of our friends at Bethlehem, and set out in the first instance for Pittsburg.

CHAPTER VI

JOURNEY FROM BETHLEHEM TO PITTSBURG, OVER THE ALLEGHANYS, FROM SEPTEMBER 17TH TO OCTOBER 7TH

Allentown—Reading—Lebanon—Harrisburg—Mexico—Mifflin Town—Valley of the Juniata—Huntington—Alexandria—Yellow Springs—The Summit—Ebensburg—Hunting parties—Wild Scenery of the Alleghanys—Laurel Hills—Conomaugh Valley—Blairsville—New Alexandria on the Loyalhanna—Pittsburg—Situation of the Town—Economy, Mr. Rapp's Settlement on the Ohio—Remarkable natural productions of that river.

Violent thunder-storms, accompanied with heavy rains, had taken place during the night before I left Bethlehem, early in the morning of the 17th, with the stage from Easton to Reading. Mr. Bodmer remained behind for some days, on account of the injury done to his hand. At day-break we reached Allentown, where we changed both carriage and horses, and passed the Cedar Creek, which was much swollen. The thunder-storm had not changed the temperature of the air. All this country was covered with plantations of maize, clover, and buckwheat, and detached farm-houses were numerous. The clover was often sown, as among us, with the corn. The ears of the maize were partly cut off, and the stalks tied up in bundles. The maize becomes ripe here in October. We halted very often at the post-houses, where the horses are always watered. As soon as the stage arrives, the large leather bag containing the letters is thrown down, and the correspondence for places further on the road is put in. We were here on a calcareous soil, and many limekilns were burning in the neighbourhood. Flocks of birds, of many kinds, appeared ready to depart; Papilio plexippus flew about the hedges. The Datura, with purple blossoms, and the Phytolacea, with ripe black berries, dark red stems and branches, grow on the road-side, and about the houses. The leaves of the sumach, and of some kinds of oak and maple, had already 55 changed to a beautiful red colour. The fallow fields were entirely covered with the yellow blossoms of the golden rod, or St. John's wort, and beautiful asters, mostly with small white or purple flowers. The farm-houses in this part of the country are remarkably handsome. The barns are built of stone, very large, and have, in the lower part, the stables, with eight or twelve doors and windows, and over this is the barn, properly so called. At the end of the building there is a passage where the wagons stand under cover; the windows, doors and roof are frequently painted of a reddish brown colour: cattle of all kinds surround these farms. The swine are very fat, have broad hanging ears, and are generally marked with small round black spots, and sometimes, but more rarely, they are reddish brown. We saw some fine forests of oak and walnut trees, among which is much hickory (Juglans alba), which, next to the white oak, and the black walnut tree, furnishes the best timber. In general this country resembles Germany: it is diversified and pleasant; wooded eminences on the sides, and bright green meadows, often kept in very good order, occur as in our country; but large, new habitations, built in rather a different style, the zigzag fences, and the more lofty and luxuriant growth of the trees, give, on the whole, another character to the scenery.

In Maxatawny township we addressed the inhabitants in the German language, who answered us at once in the same, and we heard German names all the way to Pittsburg. After passing Sackoma Creek, we arrived at ten o'clock at Kutztown, eighteen miles from Bethlehem, where we breakfasted. The heat being very great, the dust was extremely annoying, for the thunder-storm, which had passed over Bethlehem, had not extended to this part of the country. The cattle sought protection against the sun, in the shade of single trees, or in the orchards. Large stacks of corn, six, eight, or ten together, stood in rows by the fences. On the right hand ran the Oli Mountains, beautiful verdant wooded eminences, which are connected with the Lehigh Mountains. About noon we had travelled the thirty-six miles to Reading, where we were obliged to stop one day, because the stage had already left.

Reading is a very pretty town on the Schuylkill, with 6,000 or 7,000 inhabitants; it has seven churches, and a new one was just then building. There are about 400 negroes and people of colour. Some of the streets were not paved in the middle, but have on the sides a pavement of bricks for the foot passengers, planted with acacias, planes, poplars, and other trees. All these towns are rapidly increasing. The cholera had already carried off many persons here, but the inhabitants would not confess this. We saw a funeral procession returning home, in which there were several women on horseback; the veils on their large fashionable hats fluttered in the wind, and gave this caravan of Amazons a singular appearance. Much fruit is grown in the neighbourhood, and the apples are good, but not the plums. Peaches thrive very well; we saw whole wagon-loads of them brought into Reading, around which the people crowded to buy, while the children stole them.

56 On the 18th of September it was with very great difficulty that we got places in the stage, the travellers being very numerous. After we had passed Kakusa Creek, we came to Womelsdorf, founded by Germans, fourteen miles from Reading, where we stopped to dine, and then proceeded over Dolpahaga Creek, to Lebanon County, which is in a tract diversified with eminences and wooded mountains. On this road we several times passed the Union Canal, which goes from Baltimore to Pittsburg, is very nearly completed, and is said to have cost 18,000,000 of dollars. After we had passed the River Swatara, which runs into the Susquehannah, we continued our journey in a dark but fine evening; the crickets and grasshoppers chirped all around; but their note is by no means so loud as that of those in the Brazils. At length we perceived a number of lights before us, and came to Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania, the end of our journey to-day.

Harrisburg is a small town, with only 5,000 inhabitants, situated between the Susquehannah and the Union Canal. It has broad streets crossing each other at right angles; but many of the buildings are of wood, for which they are now, however, gradually substituting better ones of brick. Rows of trees are planted in front of the houses. The inn at which we put up was in a square, which they were just covering with broken stones. Here, too, is the market-hall, a long roofed building supported by pillars, in which the productions of the country are exposed for sale, as in most of the towns in the United States. Harrisburg, being the capital of the state, is the residence of the Governor. The state-house is built on a gentle eminence on the canal, near the town, and with its two wings is a very considerable building, with a colonnade and a cupola supported by pillars. Another interesting point of the town is the view of the Susquehannah, which is very broad here, and forms an island. A long bridge, covered at top, and enclosed at the sides, is built over each arm of the river. One of these bridges is about 600 paces in length. In the first there are twenty-three glass windows, and it has two pillars on shore, and five in the river. There are colossal bridges of this kind in the United States; and there is one further down the Susquehannah, which is one and a quarter mile and four rods in length, and has fifty-two pillars. The view from this bridge up the river is peculiarly beautiful. Verdant wooded islands adorn its surface, which is broad, but it was at this time very shallow. There are 500 negroes and people of colour. Germans are met with everywhere, and we were told that an able German physician lived here.

The defective arrangements of the post-houses obliged us to stop here three days, and it was not till the 21st of September, in the evening, that we could leave the town to continue our journey during the night. We passed the Susquehannah, and the Juniata, which comes from the Alleghany Mountains, and flows into it. On the 22nd, at day-break, we were at the little village of Mexico.

Mexico is in Mifflin County, forty miles from Harrisburg. Three miles further is the village of Mifflin Town, the capital of the county, where they were just building a new town-hall. The Union Canal, which connects Philadelphia and Baltimore with Pittsburg, in general follows the 57 same direction as the river Juniata, near which it often runs at a greater elevation, and sometimes is even carried over it. The river is here about as broad as the Lehigh, but was at this time very shallow. Beyond Mifflin Town it receives the Los Creek. From this place we observed in the valley many robinias, which grow very high and vigorous, as well on the mountain, which is rather dry, as by the water-side; vines as thick as a man's arm twine round the trunks, and frequently rise to the very summit. The nettle tree (Celtis) grew in great abundance, and the maples were just assuming their red tinge. The picturesque forest is intermingled with Canadian pines, many of which are quite blighted and withered. The valley now became wilder and more romantic; on the right hand rose a high precipice, covered with bolders, fragments of rock, mouldering trunks, and the finest trees of the country, forming a real wilderness. A very narrow part of the valley, where we watered our horses at an insulated house, bears the name of the Long Narrows; and the steep wooded mountain, on the south bank of the river, is called Blacklog Mountain; it is said to be the haunt of bears and stags. The cattle belonging to the log-houses were grazing among the rocks. After some time the valley grew more open, and at a wider spot, near the road, which descended towards the defile of James Creek, was a group of lofty and slender robinias, on which a flock of tame turkeys were sitting. These birds resemble in colour the wild ones which are common in this country; they often go into the forests, where they breed, and come home again with their young ones. After passing Kishikokinas Creek, we reached, at a broad part of the valley, the village of Louis Town, in which there are some considerable houses. The country people were ploughing and harrowing their fields; and I may here observe, that, in all Pennsylvania, they never employ oxen in these operations, but horses only, of which they have great numbers. The plough is rather different from that of Germany.

Beyond Louis Town we saw a number of horsemen, assembled for the fox-chase. The fox was caught in a trap, then let loose at a certain spot, and hunted with many dogs, as in England. In a district diversified with forests and cultivated fields, we came to Waynesburg, a small town agreeably situated in a valley. The forests began to assume their autumnal tints; the maples, the dogwood (Cornus Florida), and the sumach, were partly red; the walnut trees, and the hickory, yellow, which gave great variety to the landscape. Near some habitations we observed weeping willows of extraordinary size. The surrounding mountains were covered with forests, into which we penetrated to ascend the first ridge of the Western Alleghanys. The road, which is, for the most part, in bad condition, rose obliquely on the side of a rude picturesque precipice. Except a pheasant, which flew past us, we saw but few living objects. Advancing into the valley we again came to the Juniata, over which the canal is here carried by an aqueduct, supported by four pillars. In this part of the river there are several dams, such as we had seen in the Lehigh, near Bethlehem, with this difference that here they are triple. For this purpose, rows 58 of stones, piled one upon another, are laid across the river, forming, in the direction of the stream, acute angles, where a basket is placed, in which the fish are collected.

At a place where three valleys meet stands the village of Huntingdon, ninety miles from Harrisburg, where we found a tolerably good inn, on an eminence above the banks of the Juniata. From this inn we proceeded, during the night, through high rude tracts and forests, past Alexandria, and at midnight reached Yellow Springs, and then the highest points of this ridge, called the summit, between 2,400 and 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, in the vicinity of Blair's Gap. This wild mountain region bears hemlock spruce firs of colossal magnitude, mixed with other timber. The night was clear and cool; towards morning fogs arose from the deep valleys, which at daybreak covered the pine forest through which we descended. We passed the Conomaugh Creek, and then arrived at the little town of Ebensburg, on an open spot in the forest. We stopped here at a small inn to wait for our travelling companions.

Ebensburg, the capital of Cambria County, is an inconsiderable place, consisting of wooden buildings, forming not much more than one broad, unpaved street, but has a town-house and a pretty large church. The inhabitants, about 300 or 400 in number, are of English, Irish, and some of German extraction. The surrounding country is very mountainous and woody, and is said to abound in all sorts of game, as indeed the many skins of lynxes, racoons, martens, and minks, fastened against the houses, prove; bears, stags, and wolves, are said not to be uncommon, as lofty and dark forests surround the town within a couple of hundred paces. Ebensburg derives some profit from the numerous wagons, drawn by two, four, or six strong horses, that pass through it on the high road to Pittsburg.

Our hunting excursions in this rude country were very interesting. We proceeded first in a northern direction into the forest, which we found to be quite a primeval wilderness. The mountains rise peak above peak, with deep ravines, where pines, beeches, chestnuts, birches, maples, and walnut trees of various kinds, form a gloomy forest, and fallen and decayed trunks check your advance at every step; cool, sylvan brooks rushed foaming through all the defiles, and we had continually to cross them on natural bridges, formed by the fallen trunks of trees. Such old trunks are covered with a whole world of mosses, lichens, fungiwood, sorrel, ferns, &c.; nay, even young shoots of maple, beeches, and tulip trees, had taken root on them. We clambered over the trunks, went round the fallen giants of the forest, and found everywhere, on the ground, traces of the numerous squirrels (Sciurus cinereus), in the remains of fruit and shells, especially, of the chestnut.

But there was also an interesting wilderness in the opposite direction. Here a very extensive fall of timber had been commenced—a gigantic labour, as in Brazil, where the wood is burnt afterwards, as soon as it is sufficiently dry. The sturdy woodcutters were of German extraction, and spoke German. From this place a dark narrow path led through an old pine forest, where 59 the little creeping Michella repens, here called ground berry, with its beautiful red berries, grew among the moss, and often covered the ground. Several small runs and muddy ditches crossed the forest, over which I walked or rode on trunks of trees that served as bridges; in doing which my clothes suffered not a little. Woodpeckers abounded here, especially the great black woodpecker (P. pileatus), which we had not seen before. It is nearly as large as a crow, and its splendid bright red tuft is conspicuous at a great distance. They were very shy; knocked and hammered on the dead pine trees, which stood like the ruins of a colonnade, and were pierced and bored by their strong bills. This fine large bird is called here, and in general, woodcock. A young man who lived in the forest, some miles off, told me that bears, stags, and other wild animals, were very numerous, particularly the pheasant, or cock of the wood (Tetrao umbellus), one of which we shot. There is a saw-mill here, among the lofty pines, on an arm of Conomaugh Creek, in a wild, lonely spot. The owner was not a little astonished at my double-barrelled percussion gun. After we had spent two days here in exploring the woods, our travelling companions, Dr. Saynisch and Mr. Bodmer, at length joined us, on the 26th, but as the latter still had need of rest, on account of his wound, we took their places, and set out immediately for Pittsburg.

Seven miles from Ebensburg is the place which is looked upon as the boundary of the Alleghanys, properly so called; here begins the ridge called the Laurel Hills, for these mountains consist of several parallel chains, many of which have distinct names. The forest now assumes a different character. Oaks of various species succeed the pines and beeches; the forest is not so high, rude, and thick, and from an elevated spot on the road there is a fine view as you look back on the long wooded chain of the Alleghanys.

The traveller soon sees before him a deep and wide valley in which the Conomaugh River flows, and beyond it a long ridge, covered with verdant woods, called the Chestnut Ridge, in which there is a gap, through which both the river and the canal pass. The eminences are uniformly wooded, and the chestnut and chestnut oak appear to predominate. We changed horses at Further Laurel Hill, and at Amagh, and then passed the gap. In the meadows and fields, the stumps of the trees that had been cut down were still standing, for the whole country was formerly one unbroken forest. The habitations were few in number, and, at the same time, small and wretched. We were told that this part of the country is chiefly inhabited by Irish, who are bad managers, and addicted to drinking. A better character is given to the settlers of German origin, and they are said frequently to possess well cultivated farms.

In the woods of this district, we everywhere remarked that the tops of the branches, for about a foot or a foot and a half, were hanging down and withered, which is caused by a kind of cricket (locust, Cicada septem decem, Linn.). This insect, which, as is well known, appears only once in seventeen years, but then, like the cockchafer with us, in prodigious numbers, had abounded 60 in Pennsylvania in 1832, and in many places was a real scourge; it does not, however, appear everywhere at the same time. But a few weeks before, they were so numerous in these forests, that the noise they made almost overpowered the human voice. On examining the withered twigs, we found the bark, as it were, ripped open in many places, the wood quite dry, and in the sap, a whitish substance, which consists of the eggs of the insect.

As we drove rapidly down the hills, we saw before us the extensive valley of the Conomaugh, for the most part covered with woods, and gently rising on all sides, in which, a little higher up, the small town of Indiana is situated. We stopped at a lonely inn by the road-side, watered our horses, and hastened forwards. On every side we saw extensive forests, and from the next eminence looked down into another valley, in which the Conomaugh runs by the town of Blairsville, a pretty little place, with many respectable houses, and a very good inn, in a broad main street, which runs directly across the valley. The country is hilly, or mountainous, well cultivated, and with neat farm-houses scattered around. From this place, it is ten miles to New Alexandria, a village with tolerably good wooden houses, many of which are painted. Beyond it runs the Loyalhanna, a small stream, which was at this time very shallow, with a covered bridge over it. At nightfall we reached New Salem, then Millersburg, and about midnight, Pittsburgh.

Pittsburg is an old, large, but by no means handsome town, celebrated for its manufactories and brisk trade, and has been described by many travellers. The town itself has 12,000 inhabitants; but with the suburbs, its population is estimated at 24,000 souls, including many Germans, some of whom are respectable merchants. Coal mines in the immediate neighbourhood (a part of which is now on fire), afford an ample supply of fuel for the numerous steam-engines, stoves, &c. The style of building in the town is everything but uniform, neat brick houses being mixed with small wooden ones. The streets are ill-paved, dirty, and badly lighted; some of them, however, are modern and regular; and the new edifices are handsome and elegant. There are many iron works, nail manufactories, glasshouses, cotton manufactories, &c., in many of which, steam-engines are employed, of which, as we were told, there are above 100 at work, which are likewise made here.

This town lies on the tongue of land between the rivers Monongahela and Alleghany, which, by their union, form the Ohio; this river is not very considerable here; yet, at certain seasons, when the water is high, it is navigable by steam-boats, of which I counted sixteen on the banks of the Monongahela. Over the Alleghany there is a covered bridge, 500 paces in length, which has, on each side, an additional covered footpath; and a covered aqueduct, of the same length, is likewise carried across the river. A similar long and colossal bridge is built over the Monongahela.

The situation of Pittsburg itself is not very pleasing, but there are interesting points in the environs. As I was furnished with very good letters of recommendation, several of the inhabitants of Pittsburg endeavoured to make my stay there agreeable. Messrs. Volz and Von Bonnhorst 61 (the latter of whom had been an officer in the Prussian army) were extremely kind to me. Mr. Lambdin, possessor of a museum which was yet in its infancy, likewise gave useful recommendations and instructions. Mr. Volz had the goodness to accompany me to Economy, the remarkable and interesting colony of Mr. Rapp. For this purpose we left Pittsburg on the 29th, passed the great Alleghany bridge, and the suburb, and drove by the large new House of Correction, towards the Ohio. On the eminence to the right of the town is the convent of Flanders nuns, who have established a school, in which they receive children of all religious denominations. We proceeded on the right bank of the Ohio, eighteen miles, to Economy.

Economy has been described, in its leading features, by Duke Bernard of Saxe Weimar; but it has become much more flourishing since that time. It is well known that old Mr. Rapp, with a company of between 600 and 700 Swabian emigrants, came to America, and had, at that time, but very limited resources. He founded, with his people, successively three settlements; first, Old Harmony, near the Ohio; then, New Harmony, on the Wabash, in the State of Indiana; and then, Economy, near Pittsburg. This last settlement has now about 150 houses, which at first were slightly built of wood, but are now succeeded by better ones of brick; they are two stories high, and neatly painted. The church is spacious and plain, built of brick, with a pretty steeple, and a good bell.

The rapidity with which these settlements sprung up, amidst thick forests, proves the judgment and prudence of their founder. The order introduced at Economy is admirable; nobody is seen in the streets during the day; all the inhabitants are usefully employed; young men and women, and also the children, are distributed among the several manufactories, where they work and receive no wages, but all their wants are amply provided for, free of cost. They are cleanly and neatly dressed in their Swabian costume, and nothing but German is spoken amongst them. The possessions and the revenues of the whole establishment are the joint property of the community, every inhabitant having placed his property in the common fund. Mr. Rapp and his adopted son are the directors, and the only complaint is, that no account is given of the management, and that the government of the institution is rather too dictatorial. Be this as it may, it cannot be denied that the arrangement and direction of this artificial society are admirable, and do honour to the founder. Mr. Rapp has established several important manufactories with steam-engines; even silks are manufactured from silk produced on the spot. The mulberry plantations and the management of the silk-worms are under the especial care of Mr. Rapp's grand-daughter. The manufactories alone are said now to yield an annual profit of 20,000 dollars. Several large buildings have been erected for a cotton and a woollen cloth manufactory, a mill, an inn, where the accommodations are very good and reasonable, &c. Everything they want is raised or made by themselves. They have extensive corn fields and vineyards, and breed great numbers of 62 cattle. Mr. Rapp has erected a large building, with a great saloon in the upper story, where the inhabitants meet on festive occasions, and where they have musical entertainments. In the lower story of this building, a cabinet of natural history has been commenced, in three rooms, which already contains some very interesting specimens.

After we had viewed all these objects, and had been led by Mr. Rapp, jun., through the manufactories, we went to the dwelling-house of the director of the establishment, and met with a very friendly reception from his family, who were dressed entirely in the manner of the country people of Würtemberg. They told us they would never deviate from their old national manners, and would always remain Germans, which we were very glad to hear. Soon afterwards, the founder of the establishment, Mr. Rapp, came in. He was a vigorous old man, of venerable appearance, with white hair and a long beard. We supped with him, drank very good wine produced here, and, in conclusion, were entertained by six or seven girls and a young man, who is the schoolmaster, and is said to be well informed, with singing and playing on the piano. We here became acquainted with Mr. Ehrmann of Mannheim, an agreeable, well-educated man, whose wife is likewise a very interesting person, and who was engaged in establishing a manufactory near Economy.

On the following day we viewed the park, in which there were seventeen Virginian deer. Most of them had already got their winter coat; some were still a little red: they cast their horns in March. As it was Sunday, the people assembled, at nine in the morning, in the church, which has neither pulpit nor organ. The men sat on the right hand of the preacher, the women on the left; the older persons in front, the young people a little way back. Mr. Rapp's family had the first place. When the congregation were assembled, old Mr. Rapp entered with a firm step, seated himself at a table which was on a raised platform, and gave out a hymn, which was sung in rather quick time. After a prayer delivered standing, he preached on a text from the bible, in a bold, figurative style, well suited to country people, and with very animated gesticulation. After the sermon some verses were sung, and Mr. Rapp delivered a prayer, which the congregation repeated after him, sitting. The word Amen was always repeated by the whole congregation. In the afternoon we took a very cordial farewell of the worthy family of Mr. Rapp, and set out on our return.

The country about Pittsburg has some zoological rarities, specimens of which my travelling companions had collected during my absence. Among them are, in particular, many interesting fresh water shells of the Ohio. Several American naturalists have written on these Bivalve testacea; and there is, probably, no other country so rich in beautiful and manifold productions of this kind. On their excursions in the neighbouring islands in the Ohio, they met with trees of colossal size, and especially a maple, that measured twenty French feet in circumference at the height of twelve feet from the ground, where it divided into four thick parallel stems, from which 63 the branches issued. Among the remarkable and interesting natural productions of these rivers, we must mention the soft shell turtles of the Americans (Trionyx, Aspidonectes, Wagl.), of which there are two or three species. They grow to a great size, and are often seen in the markets. Another very remarkable animal, which is very numerous here, is the great Alleghany salamander (Menopoma, Harlan), which is here called alligator, and of which I obtained many specimens alive, so that Mr. Bodmer was able to make an accurate drawing from the life. Then there is the Triton lateralis, Say., or Menobranchus lateralis, Harlan, which differs from the preceding by the tufts at the gills, which remain even in old age. America is well known to abound in these singular enigmatical animal forms, which are nearly akin to the European Proteus, or Hypochthon.

CHAPTER VII

JOURNEY FROM PITTSBURG TO NEW HARMONY, ON THE WABASH, FROM 8TH TO 19TH OCTOBER, 1832

Cannonsburg—Wheeling—Embarkation in the Nile Steam-boat—Marietta, on the Muskingum River—Indian Antiquities—Flat-boats—Gallipolis—Portsmouth, at the mouth of the Scioto River—Cincinnati—Big Miami River, which forms the boundary between Ohio and Indiana—Louisville, on the Falls of the Ohio—Horse-races—Embarkation in the Waterwitch Steam-boat—The Cholera on Board—Mount Vernon—Landing—Journey by Land to New Harmony.

The Ohio, called by the French La Belle Rivière, was at this time too shallow at Pittsburg to be navigated by steamboats, and we were therefore obliged to go by land to Wheeling, a distance of fifty-seven miles; by the river, it is ninety-five miles. After taking leave of Dr. Saynisch, who returned to Bethlehem, we crossed the Ohio, near the town, in a well contrived ferry, the wheels of which were moved by four horses. Our stage was drawn rapidly, by four good horses, along the path of the mountains, where the road passed through lofty forests, great part of which was, however, ruined and cleared. The foliage was adorned with the most beautiful varied tints of autumn, a circumstance which distinguishes North America, at this season, from all other countries. In the Brazils, it is the spring, or the transition from the rainy to the dry season, that adorns the forest with the most beautiful diversity of tints, which, however, are chiefly produced by the flowers, which frequently appear before the leaves. North America, on the other hand, has but few such flowering trees; most of them have catkins (amenta), and it is the foliage, which assumes in the autumn so great a variety of colours.

On the next eminence, the road leaves the river, and turns to the south-west. Strata of coal appear in some places, and workmen were busy in removing the earth above them. We frequently met with European emigrants, most of them in their peasant's dress, with faces burnt by the sun, and carrying their children. The country consists of high hills and forests, and we frequently saw the robinia, pseud-acacia, which is partly planted for the sake of its timber, potatoes, 65 clover, and corn, which was now in the ear. A great deal of fruit is cultivated here, and the farmers were just reaping the maize. The farm-houses are all slightly built of wood, with the chimney on the outside, to avoid the danger of fire. As the sun shone with intense heat, the birds were all life, twittering on the high trees, where the loquacious blackbirds flew about in companies. The woods, presenting a beautiful mixture of yellow, vermilion, purple and green, gave us much pleasure, and we reached Chattier or Shirtee Creek, which, after numerous windings, falls into the Ohio, near Wheeling. We proceeded along its valley, where colossal planes and elms, as well as robinia and willows, afforded a welcome shade. We had passed several covered bridges before we reached Cannonsburg, eighteen miles from Pittsburg, where we changed horses, and, as usual in all such places in the United States, were gazed at by the curious and the idle. There is a college here for young divinity students. We now traversed the valley of the Chattier Creek, where the plane trees were very lofty and spreading. They were covered with their round fruit, from which the Americans have given the tree the name of button-wood.

At noon we reached Washington, a village, beyond which the country presented an alternation of forests and fields, where stumps of trees showed that the whole country east of the Mississippi was a primeval forest. We found an ample variety in the splendid woods, where the lime (Tilia grandifolia), with its colossal leaves, was not uncommon, and the willow-leaved oak (Quercus phellos), was likewise in great abundance, the foliage of which resembles our white willow, but the bark and fruit are exactly like those of the oak. After passing a village called Alexandria, or more properly Alexander we reached the boundary of the state of Pennsylvania, and entered Virginia, which last state has a narrow strip of land on the eastern bank of the Ohio. The land here is said to be fruitful, and very well cultivated, though we did not immediately perceive this in the narrow valley of the Wheeling Creek, through which we drove. We saw numbers of young oxen, all brought for sale from the state of Ohio, where the breeding of cattle is very extensive. Many of these oxen had uncommonly large horns, others none at all. It was a beautiful moonlight evening when we passed the Mean Creek, which joins that above-mentioned, and both together forming Wheeling Creek. At this place, not far from the road-side, there is a pillar erected in honour of Mr. Henry Clay, who had been very instrumental in the opening of this road. The night prevented our taking a view of it. From an eminence we saw before us numerous lamps in Wheeling, and the Ohio sparkling in the light of the moon, and then took up our quarters at an inn at that place. Wheeling is a rapidly improving town, containing 5,200 inhabitants, where at this time they were building whole streets, and is situated on a ledge of the mountain, on the bank of the Ohio. On the summit there is not much more than one broad, unpaved street, with footpaths of bricks: shops of all kinds were already opened. The Ohio at this place is about as broad as the Moselle near its mouth. The banks are moderately high wooded mountains, the uncultivated places in which are often overgrown with Datura. Two 66 steam-boats were expected on the 9th of October, and at noon we embarked on board the Nile, a small vessel, because steamers of a large size cannot come so high up the river. Our large or lower cabin had sixteen beds, the upper cabin being appropriated to the women. The river was, at this time, very low, and its banks, from forty to fifty feet high, consisted of yellowish red clay and strata of sand.

The traces of the great inundation of the preceding spring were everywhere visible in uprooted trees, thrown one over the other. The water at that time overflowed the lower stories of the houses of Wheeling; whereas it was now so low, that our boat was obliged to stop for the night. Early on the following morning, however, the 10th of October, we passed Elizabeth Town. On the banks of the river lay pirogues, composed of the trunk of a tree hollowed out, like those in Brazil, and small habitations were scattered in the lofty and picturesque forests. A little field of maize generally surrounded these dwellings, and the recently felled trees indicated that it was a new settlement. The eminences on the banks of the Ohio are, in general, rounded, steep, wooded hills, separated by valleys or ravines. In many places stacks of wood were piled up for the steam-boats, and some was already in boats. We arrived at New Town, on the right bank, at the mouth of the Sunfish Creek, a village with only eight houses, which was not yet marked on Tanner's map. Near Fishing Creek, which falls into the Ohio, we saw the white-headed eagle soaring in the air, while the kingfishers flew about the banks, and the note of the black crow sounded in the tall forests. Near the village of Sistersville, on the right bank, in the state of Ohio, the sand-banks in the river were covered with the yellow blossoms of some plant, which, however, I was not able clearly to distinguish; but it was an autumnal flower, and the wind reminded us of the approach of the cold season, blowing quantities of leaves from the forest, in some places entirely covering the surface of the water with them. Towards noon, the sun shone bright, and the gay tints of the forest appeared more lovely than ever; colossal planes, maples, tulip trees, beeches, elms, ashes, limes, walnuts, and other trees, grow to a great height, and beneath their shade we saw many rustic bridges, or planks, thrown picturesquely across the little brooks. The trunks of the trees, covered with the Hedera quinquefolia, which made them look like scarlet columns, and the varied tints of the foliage, charm the beholder. All along the Ohio, Mississippi, and Lower Missouri, the papaw tree (Asimina triloba Dunal) grows as underwood. Its fruit, resembling a small cucumber, was now ripe, and great quantities were brought on board our steamer. This tree has a beautiful light green, large, smooth leaf, and violet brown flower, which grows isolated, but it does not attain a greater height than between twenty and thirty feet. The fruit has a pleasant taste, but the smell is disagreeable. It contains a whitish, juicy pulp, and twelve thick black kernels.

A heavy fall of rain was very welcome to us, the water in the river being so low that our boat frequently grounded. At a narrow part of the river we came to the village of Newark, and then to the mouth of the Muskingum River, at the town of Marietta, which was founded in 1788. This 67 place is small, but it has neat brick buildings, some of which looked like churches. We have read much about the ancient Indian remains and ramparts, between the Ohio and the Muskingum. Smith Barton, Attwater, Schultz, and especially Warden, have written on this highly interesting subject, and given ground plans of the Indian ramparts, which are met with at many places in the state of Ohio, at Cincinnati, Wheeling, Chillicothe, as well as in all the States west of the Alleghanys, and respecting which Warden has collected everything that is known; but most of these interesting remains have been entirely annihilated by the love of devastation, or the negligence of the new settlers. Thus Marietta is built just on the fore part of the Indian works, and many of them are no longer to be seen. It is much to be lamented that the government of the United States suffers all this to be done without any attempt to prevent it. It looks on unmoved, while the plough continues from year to year the destruction of these remains of ages long since past, the only historical monuments of this country. Schultz gave, in 1820, a ground plan of the ramparts near Marietta, as Smith Barton and Warden did more recently; and Mr. Thomas Say made a sketch of them in 1815, which he communicated to me. A great part of them has been since ploughed over.

From Marietta we came to the Island of Muskingum, and then to Vienna Island; opposite to which, on the left bank, lies the village of Vienna. Swallows, which had long since left Pennsylvania, were still flying about here. We everywhere heard accounts of the great flood in the Ohio, when the steam-boats were on a level with the second story of the houses in Marietta.

We saw tall forest trees, among the thick branches of which the river had deposited beams and other pieces of wood. Below Parkersburg, a village on the southern side, the little Kenhava River issues from the high bank opposite Belpie, a settlement of a few houses. A steam-boat, which had been entirely crushed by the ice, proved how violent the effects of the breaking up of the ice in the Ohio sometimes are. Our captain lay to for the night, on the right bank, which was necessary, on account of the unfavourable weather; the rain being so heavy, that it drenched the upper row of beds in the large cabin.

On the 11th October the weather was fairer, but very cool. The appearance of the bank was the same as before—an unbroken, thick forest, with here and there some little settlements. We reached, at an early hour, the Little Hocking River, which comes from the state of Ohio. Ducks, particularly teal, flew past us, and we observed, also, many other birds of passage on their flight. Near Shade Creek, the banks of the river consisted of stratified, rocky walls, which appeared to be Grauwacke slate; we observed, in the forest, trees of remarkable forms and colours; the trunks, covered with the scarlet foliage of the five-leaved ivy, were particularly beautiful. We frequently met, in the river, with flat boats, which are built all along the banks 68 of the Ohio, from Pittsburg, and are sent with the produce of the country to New Orleans. These boats are large four-cornered chests, composed of beams and planks, are often heavily laden, draw much water, and, having neither masts nor sails, proceed very slowly. They are propelled with large oars, and can only go down the river; they are many months on the voyage to New Orleans, and the rowers are commonly new European emigrants, hired for low wages, and often merely for a free passage. Many of these boats are wrecked, and they are, therefore, frequently insured; at New Orleans they are sold for lumber.

The woods in the valley of the Ohio are more lofty and luxuriant than on the other side of the Alleghany Mountains; vines twine round the trees, and present a faint image of the woods of warmer countries. The kingfisher was common; the swallows had not yet taken their flight, and in some places the sandpiper was seen upon the bank. In the vicinity of the houses were cattle, horses, swine, large sheep, and numerous flocks of European geese and ducks; here, too, the papaw tree was sometimes planted in rows. The river increased in breadth, but not in depth, of which we had the proof before us, for a flat boat had run aground, and the people stood in the water, trying to get it afloat. In this part of the country there are, in the state of Ohio, many Swiss colonists, who are much commended for their industry. The soil is extremely fruitful, and needs no manure. The dwellings of these people are small log-houses, exactly like the huts in Switzerland. Towards noon, before we reached Point Pleasant, we saw, in many places on the Ohio, considerable coal-pits, the sulphureous smell of which was perceptible in the steamer; many boats lay ready to take in cargoes; negro children were sitting in groups on the bank, near their extensive plantations of maize. These people are free in the state of Ohio. After we had passed Point Pleasant, a village on the left bank, where fine forests cover the low bank of the great Kenhava River, which here falls into the Ohio, we reached, in about twenty minutes, Gallipolis, on the right bank, an old French colony, the inhabitants of which still speak the French language. Immediately below that town, there is a fine forest of beech trees; on the water-side, thickets of plane, and between them the papaw tree took the place which, in Pennsylvania, is occupied by the Rhododendron maximum; willows grew in front of the planes.

The sun disappeared behind the hills on the bank; the evening sky was clear and serene, and the bright mirror of the Ohio extended unruffled near Racoon Creek, where we saw large flocks of ducks. We intended to continue our voyage during the night; but, about nine o'clock, we struck violently on a sand-bank, near the Indian Guyandot River, where there is a small village of the same name, and, as a thick fog arose, we lay to, six miles below Guyandot.

On the 12th of October, in the morning, a dense fog covered the river, and the thermometer was, at half-past six o'clock, at 10° Reaumur, above zero. We passed the mouth of Symes Creek, and then Burlington, a small scattered village in Lawrence County, where our boat struck upon some stones, and was thrown a little on one side. On the left bank was Cadetsburg, 69 with Big Sandy Creek, then Hanging Rock, a small village, where most of the iron utensils for the whole of Ohio are shipped. The situation of the place is picturesque, surrounded with forests and rocks. On the left, or Kentucky bank, we passed Greenupsburg, a row of seventeen or eighteen small houses, on the high bank. The inhabitants, in order to attract the notice of the vessels that pass by to their public-houses, stores, or shops, have set up posts, with boards painted white, on which their trade, &c., is described in very large letters. The beech woods on this part of the river were remarkably fine, their foliage green and yellow. On our right hand was the little Scioto River; we then came to the village of Portsmouth, at the mouth of the Scioto River, on the Ohio bank, where the celebrated Ohio Canal begins, which connects that river with lake Erie. At this place we took on board a number of European emigrants, among whom were many Germans, with their baggage, beds, and other effects, and many children. The negroes brought provisions for sale; one of them had a number of fowls, all of which escaped, and caused no little amusement. From this place, fine forests covered the bank, in which were tall poplars (Populus Angulata, or Canadensis), which I had not before observed. Here, too, I noticed some interesting forms of mountains, which in general are very rare in this country. Most of the summits are round, some broad, but very few pointed. Towards evening we came to the village of Rockville, on the right bank, which was not marked on our map, and lay to, at nightfall, when we learned that our vessel had caught fire, but happily it was already extinguished. On the bank near the steam-boat, a large fire was burning, the reflection of which, on the dark forest, had a fine effect, and so had the steamers that hastened past us, which were brightly lighted up inside, and emitted sparks of fire as they rushed along in the dark night.

On the 13th, at daybreak, the landscape was obscured by rain. We had passed, during the night, Adamsville, Manchester, Aberdeen, Ripley, Vanceburg, Maysville, and Augusta, and were now off the village of Neville, where the Helen Mar steam-boat lay near us, to take in wood. We then came to Moscow, then to Point Pleasant, and on the right bank to New Richmond. Near the little Miami River, six miles from Cincinnati, the Ohio was so shallow, that we saw the shells at the bottom, and our boat struck several times. The Miami River was nearly dry. At Columbia, in the state of Ohio, the valley becomes rather wider, but the hills soon close in again upon the river, and we come to the beginning of the great town of Cincinnati.

Cincinnati, the most important and flourishing town of the West, with more than 36,000 inhabitants, was at this time visited by the cholera, which, as we were assured by a physician who came to our vessel, carried off, on an average, forty persons daily. I therefore resolved not to stop now, but to visit this town on my return; our baggage was transferred to the Portsmouth steamer, which was just about to depart; and at noon we reached the mouth of Big Miami River.

On the 14th of October, we had pleasant sunshiny weather. The river had become considerably broader, when we came to Six-miles Island, a beautiful island six miles from Louisville. 70 We had passed several places during the night, and likewise the celebrated Big-bone Lick, where colossal bones of the mammoth have been dug up at the foot of a hill of black earth. I would gladly have stopped at this spot, but some of our passengers, who were well acquainted with the country, assured me that there was now nothing to be seen there, nor was anything more found. All that had been obtained had been sold to England and the American museums.

Fossil bones of animals are still found in the United States, but the possessors having learnt the value of such things, ask so high a price for them that it is difficult to obtain them; they are, besides, frequently presented, out of patriotism, to the American museums.

We soon reached Louisville, a considerable town, with 12,000 inhabitants, which in 1800 had only 600. It is in the state of Kentucky, and, when seen from the river, does not make nearly so good an appearance as Cincinnati. Negroes conveyed our baggage to the inn, where we found, as usual, a great number of gentlemen, for the most part travelling merchants. The merchants are, in America, the class of people among whom the most idleness is found, and they are extremely numerous. The least numerous classes are the men of learning, and the military; the latter, in particular, so very few, that they are not at all remarked. The young men who, in North America, besiege the doors of the inns, are, doubtless, most of them, traders. Foreigners are often treated with contempt by these persons, who are usually equally conceited and unpolished, and make observations, as soon as they discover a foreigner, either by his incorrect pronunciation of English, or by his dress. This American conceit is to be attributed partly to their excessive patriotism, and partly to their ignorance, and want of acquaintance with other countries.

When the dinner-hour was come, such a crowd of gentlemen had assembled before the house, that, at the ringing of the second (dinner) bell, the dining-room was in a manner carried by storm. All rushed impetuously into the room, every one making good use of his elbows, and in ten minutes all these people had dined and hastened out again. Mr. Wenzel, a German merchant, to whom I had letters, had the kindness to show me the town and neighbourhood. Louisville has the appearance of being likely soon to become an important town, and many new houses were, in fact, building. The streets are long, broad, and straight, crossing each other at right angles, and the situation on the Ohio is very favourable for trade. Handsome, showy shops are common here, as in all the towns of the United States, and elegance of dress characterizes everywhere, even in the smallest places, the inhabitants of this country, the great object of whose efforts is the acquisition of wealth. As it was Sunday, the various sects of the population were flocking to their respective places of worship; afterwards, many of them were driving out in their gigs. There were already above thirty hackney carriages, partly belonging to negroes, of whom only the far 71 smaller portion are free in the state of Kentucky. The state of oppression in which the negro slaves live in North America, makes them corrupt and knavish, which travellers often have occasion to learn by their own experience. At Louisville, the cholera had already appeared. Five persons, most of them negroes, were carried off the day before our arrival, and a general panic had seized the inhabitants.

Mr. Wenzel took us to a spot which was intended for horse-races, an institution quite new in the Western States. A society had purchased a beautiful level spot of ground, surrounded with woods, and about four miles in circumference. This place was surrounded with palisades, with several stands in the centre, and stables in the neighbourhood for the horses. The horses of Kentucky are considered to be the best in the country; the stallions which were to run, and some of which had come from a distance, seemed to be mostly of a very good breed, not large, but well built. The first races were to continue the whole of the next week. This institution will, doubtless, have a good effect in improving the breed of horses, and afford the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood both advantage and amusement.

In the afternoon we left Louisville to embark at Portland, below the town, on account of the Falls of the Ohio, that now cannot be navigated past the town, and therefore a canal has been made, where, by the aid of five sluices, the boats are raised twenty-two feet. Those who land at Louisville embark again at Portland, where there is generally a great number of steam-boats, among which we chose the Water-witch, bound to New Orleans. There were a great many passengers eager to embark, who drove in carriages into the river to reach the steam-boat, to which the baggage was conveyed in the same manner. The loading of the vessel not being completed, we did not set out till the 16th of October. At seven o'clock in the morning of that day, Reaumur's thermometer was at 5° above zero, while a thick fog covered the river. We put off at half-past ten, and had a fine view of the magnificent Ohio, with the large town of Louisville in Kentucky, and New Albany in Indiana, opposite, with numerous steam-boats on both banks. It was soon discovered that our engine was out of order, and we were forced to lie to, on the Indiana side, to repair it. As this required much time, we took the opportunity of exploring the first forest in this State. The bank was fifty feet high, and steep; the upper part of the declivity was covered with Datura, the seeds of which were now ripe, but very few of the light purple flowers were to be seen. The beautiful blue flowering Eupatorium cœlestinum and the Lobelia syphilitica bore their flowers amongst the thorn-apples. On the summit of the bank there was a noble forest of tall, thick beech, maple, oak, walnut trees, &c., in which there were some plantations of maize, with their block-houses. The underwood was everywhere the papaw tree, and on the skirts of the forest the yellow flowering Cassia Marylandica, with ripe seed. Old trunks lay rotting on the ground, which was partly covered with the falling leaves.

At nightfall our engine was repaired, and we proceeded on our voyage, and on the morning 72 of the 17th reached the village of Brandenburg, on the Kentucky bank, which is here rocky, and marked with horizontal white stripes, or strata. The mountains were rounded and covered with wood. In Indiana the forest was cleared in some places for plantations, which afforded a view into the picturesque interior; for on these cleared spots the tall forest trees stood, as in the primeval forests in Brazil, like columns crowded together. This dense forest was interrupted for a short space by the towns of Leavenworth and Rome, in Indiana, and Stevensport in Kentucky; the two last with some indifferent buildings. From this part the country had no great variety, the forests being seldom interrupted. The islands were bordered with willow bushes, with tall trees in the middle. On the bank where the rock was exposed, on account of the low water in the river, we observed singular forms produced by the action of the stream. They consisted of round or elliptical stratified masses, which gradually decreased in breadth, so that the whole looked like a truncated pyramid rising in terraces. Before night we reached Cloverburg, in Kentucky, and lay to till the stars or the moon should appear. Numerous card parties sat down in the great cabin, where the heat was intolerable. Our beds swarmed with cockroaches, which ran over our faces and hands, or fell from the ceiling. These disagreeable animals are as common here as in Brazil; they gnaw everything, and, being quite soft, are crushed by the slightest motion.

On the 18th, at half-past six o'clock in the morning, the thermometer was +16° Reaumur, with rain, and wind, and a clouded sky. We reached at an early hour the little place of Rockport, in Indiana, and at half-past eight, Owenburg, or Yellow Banks, in Kentucky, where we landed many passengers. We saw the Turkey buzzard hovering over the woods—a bird which we had not observed since we left Cincinnati, and which is not found to the west of the Alleghanys. The Ohio, though the water was extremely low, was still very broad and beautiful, its wooded banks rather low. French Island, and some others, covered with bushes and lime trees, lay quite dry, surrounded with a large sand-bank. It was discovered that we had the cholera on board. A man from Kentucky had declared himself ill early in the morning, and was dead before eleven o'clock, though the Captain employed all the remedies in his power. He was quite well in the evening, had played at cards all night, and did not complain till towards morning. A coffin was made of some planks; the vessel lay to on the bank, which was steep, and the bell was rung while the body was conveyed on shore and buried. Many of our passengers landed to see the funeral; others were extremely alarmed, and, meantime, took a walk.

After the funeral was over, and a white board, with the name of the deceased, had been set up on the grave, the bell called the passengers on board; in half an hour we reached Evansville on the Indiana bank; soon afterwards Pigeon Creek; above this, on the other bank, the Green River, and subsequently the village of Henderson. Here we took in fresh provisions, and, among the rest, 1000 fowls were offered for sale, of which we took a good supply at a dollar per dozen. 73 The sun was setting with great splendour as we left this place; the broad, unruffled bosom of the Ohio shone like a silver mirror, in which the beautiful wooded banks were reflected, and the magnificent purple and orange hues of the sky tinged the river with their glow.

Towards midnight we reached Mount Vernon, where we landed, intending to proceed, the next morning, to New Harmony, to visit the naturalists at that place. After passing the night at an indifferent inn, I set out for New Harmony, on the 19th of October, in the morning. I had been indisposed, as well as my huntsman, since I left Louisville, and was not in a mood properly to appreciate the fine, lofty forests of Indiana, the road through which was very bad and rough; the last part of the forest was remarkably grand and wild: vines and other climbing plants hung down from the old trees. The Amorpha fruticosa frequently formed the underwood. At some of the isolated dwellings of the farmers, racoon skins were hung up to dry, and the beautiful large feathers of the wild turkey were scattered on the ground. After having passed, in the most oppressive heat, the Big Creek, which flows between the wooded hills, we soon reached the fertile valley of the Wabash, near to which New Harmony is built.

CHAPTER VIII

DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY ABOUT NEW HARMONY IN INDIANA, AND WINTER RESIDENCE THERE FROM OCTOBER 19TH, 1832, TO MARCH 16TH, 1833

New Harmony on the Wabash—The Environs—Forests—Animals—Geological Formation—Climate—Aborigines—Remains of the former Population—The present Indians—The White Usurpers—Cultivation of the Country—Productions—Breed of Cattle—Buffaloes—The Naturalists at Harmony—Excursions—Fox River—Black River—Long Pond—The present sanitary State of the Country.

New Harmony was founded by Mr. Rapp, and his Swabian followers, in a wooded plain on the left or east bank of the Wabash, about fifteen or twenty miles distant from any other place. As Duke Bernhard of Saxe Weimar has already spoken on this subject, I need not give any further account of the history of this settlement; I will only add that Mr. Owen, a Scotchman, bought the whole of Mr. Rapp, but afterwards disposed of it to Mr. William Maclure, President of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia. At the time of our visit, Harmony had fallen into decay, and the people whom Mr. Maclure had settled there, were in part dispersed. Two sons of Mr. Owen were, however, still here, and also Mr. Thomas Say, and Mr. Lesueur; the first, well known as having accompanied Major Long in his two journeys into the interior, and the second, by his voyage round the world with Captain Baudin, and the celebrated Piron. Though Mr. Maclure did not appear to take any active part in the management of Harmony, because the climate did not agree with him, and he therefore resided in Mexico, he took care to furnish Mr. Say with a fine library of books on Natural History, which was constantly enriched with the most valuable new works published in Europe. He likewise had here a printing press, a copper-plate press, and an engraver. Mr. Maclure had purchased in France all the plates of Audebert and Vieillot's splendid ornithological works, which are preserved in the library. Mr. Say has undertaken the superintendence of Mr. Maclure's property on the Wabash, but lives in a very retired manner, devoted to the study of natural history, and to literary pursuits.

75 Harmony is now a large village, with about 600 inhabitants; the buildings, which are partly of brick, are detached from each other; the streets are at right angles, broad, and unpaved. The church built by Mr. Rapp has been transformed into an amateur theatre. The situation of Harmony is by no means unpleasant. The Wabash, a fine river, as broad as the Moselle, winds between banks which are now cultivated, but were lately covered with thick forests. A hilly tract, covered with woods, bounds the valley of the Wabash, which is frequently overflowed by the river, and thereby gains in fertility. The place itself lies rather higher than the valley, surrounded by orchards, and is not exposed to inundations. The Wabash divides at Harmony into two arms, the eastern of which is called Cutoff River, and further down into several branches, forming many wooded islands, the largest of which are inhabited.

New Harmony, is surrounded on all sides by fields, which are from 600 to 800 paces in diameter; all around are lofty forests, where settlers have everywhere cultivated detached patches. These people are generally called backwoodsmen, who live like half savages, without any education or religious instruction. The forests which they inhabit are very extensive, and the soil extremely fertile: vegetation is much more luxuriant than to the east of the Alleghanys; and, therefore, a short description of the natural productions of the country will not be out of place here.

Some remarkable peculiarities strike the observer when he looks at the forests on the Wabash; one of these is the want of evergreens, if we except the Viscum flavescens, Pursh, Bignonia cruciata, Equisetum hyemale, and Miegia macrosperma. The leaves of that bignonia, for the most part, remain green in the winter, as well as those of the miegia, and the stalks of the Equisetum hyemale, at least, in mild winters, which often grow to the height of eight or ten feet in the dry forests. The planes often attain an enormous size, and are then generally hollow, and divided into several colossal branches. We measured several of these trees, and found one that was forty one feet five inches in circumference. The hollow inside was twelve feet in diameter, so that in our winter excursions we used to light a fire in it, where we sheltered from the wind. Tall tulip trees shoot up straight as masts, blossom, and bear seeds at their summits, unseen by human eye. Maples of great height and circumference, many species of oak, especially the mossy overcap oak (Q. macrocarpa), with its large acorns, which, at this time, lay on the ground, stand crowded together. A great many species of trees are mixed together; among them the Gymnocladus Canadensis, or Guilandina Bonduc, with its broad pods, the divers kinds of walnut trees, the Gleditschia tricanthos, with its formidable thorns; and many climbing plants twine round the trunks, and among them, the most beautiful of all, the Bignonia radicans.

In the forests of Indiana the ground is covered with a thick undergrowth, fifteen, twenty, or thirty feet high, consisting chiefly of the papaw tree, the spinewood (Laurus Benzoin), and the red bud; the flowers of the two latter precede the leaf. Under these lower trees, shrubs cover 76 the ground. No pine, rhododendron, kalmia, azalea, magnolia, nor even the chestnut tree, are found in these forests; but they seem to be especially the native country of the beautiful catalpa tree, of which it was not known in what part of America it properly grew wild, and which here attains a considerable height and size.

These lofty forests re-echo with the hammering of the numerous woodpeckers; and, during the winter, the scarlet cardinal (Fring. cardinalis) shines in the distance; and the titmouse (Parus. bicolor, and Atricapillus), and the nuthatch (Sitta Carolinensis), everywhere seek for insects and nuts.

The inhabitants of these forests would never be in want of an ample supply of wood for fuel and for timber, if they had been at all careful. The black walnut and cherry tree wood are the best for cabinet work; and for fuel, the hickory, which affords more heat than beech wood. The price of wood, at Harmony, was one dollar for a cord; but the price is already rising, because the forest in the neighbourhood of the village is gradually cleared, and the carriage is more expensive.

There are several kinds of officinal plants in the vicinity of Harmony; ginseng (Panax) grows close by the village, and its roots are still in request, but not so much as formerly. Another plant of the woods of Indiana, which is much esteemed, is the spurious Colombo root; likewise the peppermint, which grows in every part of the United States. The wax tree (Myrica cerifera), of the berries of which the green, fragrant tapers are made, does not grow in Indiana, but is found on the whole east coast, from New Jersey to Florida. A kind of bark, which is now much used, is that of the slippery elm (Ulmus rubra): if chewed, or softened for a moment in water, it dissolves into a viscous slime, and is found very useful in dressing wounds, as it is cooling, and allays the inflammation. It is said to have been applied with success in cholera, and is now sold, in powder, in all the apothecaries' shops. A teaspoonful of this bark, in boiling water, makes a very useful beverage, which is sweetened with sugar, and has the same effect as linseed. Michaux has given a print of this elm, and it would be desirable to cultivate it in our gardens.

The country on the banks of the Wabash is as interesting to the zoologist as to the botanist; formerly there were great numbers of the bison or buffalo of the Anglo-Americans, the elk, bear, and beaver; but they are now entirely extirpated. The Virginian deer is still pretty numerous, but is daily becoming more scarce: when Mr. Rapp first settled here, seventy of these deer were shot, in a day, in one of the Wabash islands. The wolf is still common, and seems to differ but little from the European, but is a different species from the wolf of the prairies of the Missouri; 77 it is said that there is a black wolf in the prairies of Illinois, which may, perhaps, be a distinct species. Of foxes, I saw only the grey, though the red fox is said to be found here. In the works that treat of the natural history of North America, there are many errors. The racoon is common in the forests of Harmony, and is never seen in the daytime; it is hunted in the night with dogs, which drive it into a tree. It does not sleep through the winter, for I often obtained it in that season. The opossum is also common, and lives much in the same manner as the racoon. The polecat, the otter, and the mink are common; the pine marten is said to be sometimes seen; the ermine is not rare in the prairies of Illinois. The marmot, or ground hog, grows to a considerable size, and is found in the islands of the Wabash; the musk-rat abounds in all the rivers. The rabbit, as it is called (Lepus Americanus), is nowhere so common as in Europe, yet is found in all parts of the country. Of squirrels there are many species.

The most interesting of the birds of this part is the wild turkey, which was formerly extremely numerous, and is still pretty common. A large cock was sold at Harmony for a quarter of a dollar. A young man in the neighbourhood, who supplied the place with this delicate game, had often ten or fifteen hanging about his horse at the same time. The pheasant or heathcock is found in these forests, but in no great numbers. The prairie hen is common in the prairies of Illinois, and comes in large flocks to the neighbourhood of Harmony, as soon as the cold weather and snow set in. Partridges abound, and so do parrots (Psitt. Carolinensis) which remain here during the winter. No other kind of parrot seems to bear so great a degree of cold as this. We often saw them flying about in the forests, feeding on the fruit of the plane, when Reaumur's thermometer was at 11° below zero. In the mild climate of the Ohio and Wabash they remain all the year through. They are amusing birds in a cage, and become very tame.

There are but few species of amphibia in the country about Harmony. Soft shell turtles and several kinds of emys are numerous, such as the snapping turtle (E. serpentina), likewise E. geographica, picta, pulchella, &c.

There are several lizards, but no great number of species. The rattle-snake is seldom seen, this country not being sufficiently dry and stony; the copper-head, on the contrary, is said not to be rare, but I cannot speak with certainty. The hognose-snake is very common. There are many kinds of adder in the Wabash that are not venomous.

The proteus (Menobranchus lateralis, Harl.) of the Ohio, and of the great Canadian lakes, is found in the Wabash. The rude inhabitants have many superstitious notions and fables respecting several kinds of animals, especially serpents. Of the glass-snake (Ophisaurus ventralis), which easily breaks to pieces, they say, that when the pieces are placed together, they immediately unite: they affirm that the horn-snake, which has a horn or sting at the end of its tail, takes it in its mouth, and then runs along like a hoop; and that if it passes a tree it wounds it with its sting, which always makes the tree die. Mr. Thomas Say was once informed that a 78 planter had brought one of these snakes, and would prove the truth of this assertion. He sent for the man, and found that he had the tail of one of these snakes carefully wrapped up. Mr. Say asked him whether he must die if he pricked himself with this horn? The man answered "undoubtedly." Mr. Say immediately pricked himself with the horn and drew blood, but was not affected by it; and the impostor, who affirmed that he had witnessed the effects of the sting, excused himself by saying that he had been deceived by a neighbour who gave him the snake. The inhabitants of the country generally believe that venomous serpents sting both with the tongue and with the tail, that they fascinate other animals, an old, long since refuted fable, which, however, is occasionally revived in American journals, with other stories of a similar kind.

There are many kinds of fish in the Wabash, on the whole the same as in the Ohio and the Mississippi: the cat-fish is said sometimes to weigh above 100 lbs. Several species of sturgeon and pikes are found here; the horn-fish, the buffalo (Catastomus carpioles), a large fish resembling the carp, &c. The remarkable paddle-fish is likewise met with, but not frequently, nor in all the rivers. Mr. Lesueur has given it the name of ptalyrostra, and has sent several specimens of it to Paris. This naturalist, during his long residence at Harmony, has very carefully studied this branch of zoology. He possesses a large collection of drawings and descriptions of this class, and specimens, for the most part stuffed. He has presented many of them to the National Museum at Paris; and it was his intention soon to visit Europe, and publish his observations on this subject, which will form an important supplement to the great work of Cuvier and Valenciennes.

The bivalve shells (Unio, Alasmodon, and Anodonta), of which there are a great many different species, some of them very large and beautiful, are an interesting portion of the natural productions of the Ohio, the Wabash, and the tributary streams, especially Fox River. Several American naturalists have written on this subject. Mr. Say, who was the first, states the number of species of these bivalves at forty-four. He would have given descriptions and drawings of all the species existing in this country, as well on land as in the rivers, in his natural history of the North American testacea, had not death called him from this world, too soon for his friends and for science. He died on the 10th of October, 1834, soon after I had left him in good health on my second visit to Harmony. This part of the country has two species of crustacea (Astacus Bartoni, Bosc.), and (Astacus affinis, Say), which are here called craw-fish. These are the only large species of crustacea, but there are many smaller ones. Mr. Say, by many years' study, made himself fully acquainted with the insects. It is remarkable that the bee, which was brought to America by the Europeans, is now common in all the forests; the Indians are said to call this insect the white-man's fly. Many beautiful butterflies and moths adorn the woods of Indiana.

The eminences about Harmony are of secondary formation, with a basis of limestone, and upon that, strata of sandstone, clay-slate and indurated clay. The land in the neighbourhood of 79 Harmony is extremely fertile. The fields are not manured for many successive years, and produce the finest crops; such land, however, in good situations, is no longer cheap. The climate is salubrious, and the inhabitants attain a great age. The winters are generally mild; the changes of temperature are often very great and rapid. The cholera has not yet visited this country. We arrived at the season called the Indian summer, when, with a temperature of +16° to 17° Reaumur, the atmosphere was gloomy and misty. Most persons experience, at this season, irregularities in the digestive organs, and head-ache. Pöppig gives a very accurate account of the North American autumn, and Mrs. Trollope felt the peculiar effect of this warm autumnal weather on strangers; it is, however, very remarkable that this state of the atmosphere in the Ohio Valley quickly put an end to the cholera, on which Dr. Daniel Drake wrote an essay. The weather in the wintertime is generally bright and clear; sometimes there are fogs, and hoar frost, which encrusts the trees with the most beautiful crystals: parhelia and aurora borealis are frequently seen. On the 14th of December we had a tremendous thunder-storm at daybreak; Reaumur's thermometer was at +2°; the rain, thunder, and lightning were equally violent; the latter covered the heavens with a sheet of fire, and was extremely dazzling; the thunder resembled a discharge of artillery. We were told that, in the preceding year, 1831, the weather had been exceedingly unhealthy, and the inhabitants even affirmed that wounds would not heal.

Like the whole of the interior of North America, the country on the Wabash has still numerous traces of a very early extinct original population, of which even the present Indians have no traditions, and whose remains have been spoken of by many writers. Warden, in his account of the United States, and more particularly in the great work, entitled "Antiquités Mexicaines," has mentioned such remains in all the states, and collected much information on this subject. Here, too, in the neighbourhood of Harmony, there are ancient tumuli, which, externally, are exactly similar to those which are everywhere found in our German forests. Lesueur had examined many of these tumuli, and sent part of the articles found in them to France. Some of the most considerable tumuli were found on the spot, near the back of the village, where Rapp made his churchyard, and which is now planted with acacias. The bones of the Swabian peasants are here mingled with those of the aboriginal Indians. Lesueur dug through some of those tumuli, which are now much levelled, and covered with greensward, and found a right-angled oblong parallelogram, level at the bottom, formed of large flat stones, set edgewise, and likewise covered over with similar stones. Some decayed bones were found in it, of which I received a considerable number from Mr. Lesueur, and sent them to Mr. Blumenbach, at Göttingen. This mode of interment is not that of the present Indians, who themselves affirm that these tumuli were made by the whites. Most of the skulls which were found were without the bones of the face, and all were very much decayed. The race of men to which they belonged were not smaller than those now existing, and, consequently, afford no evidence of a dwarfish race, which has been fabulously 80 ascribed to America. Potsherds were found in many of the tumuli; they were made of a grey clay, and in general marked with stripes, or rings; it would appear that they had been moulded in a cloth, or basket, as they were marked with similar impressions, or figures. Mr. Lesueur has seen unbroken vessels of this kind, which were large, very flat, and had figured handles. Broken shells are frequently found intermixed with the dark grey clay of these vessels. In one of the tumuli was found, together with the human bones, the jawbones of an animal of the stag kind; in others, battle-axes, arrow-heads, and tobacco-pipe heads of clay, different in form from those now used in Indiana.

One of these pipes was in the shape of a squatting frog, the mouth serving for the tobacco; some of them are represented in the accompanying woodcuts. Some of the most interesting articles found in and near these graves, are the narrow, oblong, square pieces of flint, which those nations made use of instead of knives. They are from two to two inches and a half long, and scarcely half an inch broad; very thin and very sharp on all the four sides. Several of these knives were discovered near New Harmony, and Mr. Lesueur found one during my stay there. There is a very remarkable coincidence of these knives with the perfectly similar instruments of obsidian or volcanic glass, which are found, even now, in Mexico, some of which Mr. T. Say brought with him, from his journey to that country, and wrote a paper respecting them. In the 81 forty-eighth plate, I have represented the two kinds of stone knives together, as they seem to testify the affinity of the aborigines of the interior of North America with those of Mexico, which is supported by other reasons.

About fifteen miles from Harmony, lower down the Wabash, is a part of the bank known by the name of the Bone Bank, where the river has partly cut through a hill, or laid it bare, in which there are numbers of human bones seen imbedded in the bank. Mr. Lesueur sent a perfect skull from this spot to Blumenbach. An old tree having fallen down on this place, he saw under the roots an entire human skeleton; this, therefore, was undoubtedly a burying-place. While the observer deeply regrets that he is wholly without information respecting these remarkable remains of antiquity, he feels that the present white population of North America may justly be reproached for neglecting or destroying them. Nobody in Harmony was able to give any account of the names of the Indian tribes who inhabited the country at the time when this village was founded. One of the first settlers of the country about Mount Vernon, who had grown up in Kentucky among the Indians, but had removed, in 1806, to the forests on the Lower Wabash—where at that time there were no white settlers—had been well acquainted with the Indians about Harmony, and frequently visited them in their huts. He was the only man who was able to give me any information about them. He called them Muskoghe Indians; this name, however, seems to be incorrect. They lived in this part of the country till 1810; but in the year preceding the battle of Tippekanoe they all removed, and did not return. They were not numerous, and lived chiefly about the mouth of the Wabash, and on the Big Creek. They were a good-looking, robust race; wore a kind of apron, and had bows and arrows, in the use of which they were very expert. They had among them thirty or forty indifferent guns; they smoked Sumach leaves in wooden pipes, the tube of which was made of cane. Their huts, at the mouth of the Wabash, were composed of large bundles of reeds, lined inside with deer-skins. Many of these Indians fastened their pipes to the tomahawk. Their heads were shorn, with the exception of a tuft at the back, like the Indians of the Mississippi and Lower Missouri. They coloured their faces with red paint. To the whites they were friendly, visited the first settlers in their dwellings, and reposed around their hearths, especially in bad weather. At that time there were elks and beavers, yet in no great numbers; but bears and wolves in abundance. My informant had killed many bears, and great numbers of wild turkeys.

82 The early history of Indiana mentions, as the inhabitants of this State, when the French first settled here, the Kickapoos, Musquitons, Potanons, and some other nations, remnants of which are still to be found at the sources of the Wabash, as well as the Piankishaws, Miamis, and Viandots. In the year 1804, a treaty was concluded with them at Vincennes for the purchase of the lands between the Wabash and the Ohio, after which they emigrated. Some well-informed inhabitants of Harmony, who, at the time of the Indiana emigration, when the United States had repeatedly bought land of those people, saw the several dislodged tribes pass through this country, assured me that the character of their physiognomy was often essentially different; and I myself found this confirmed both in North and South America; though the fundamental features of the American race are everywhere the same. All these Indians are now totally extirpated or expelled from Indiana, and the country enjoys the advantage of being peopled by the backwoodsmen.

The fertile and salubrious country of Harmony has attracted a great number of settlers, who have begun to thin the great forests of Indiana. These settlers are usually called backwoodsmen, because they live in the remote forests. They are a robust, rough race of men, of English or Irish origin. They dwell very isolated, scattered in the forests, and but seldom come to the towns, only when business calls them. There is a school at Harmony where the children learn to read and write; two dollars are paid quarterly, and the children receive instruction in the morning and afternoon; but in the country the young people grow up without any education, and are, probably, no better than the Indians themselves. In the Western States, the sixteenth section of the Congress land (i. e., land belonging to the Government) is always assigned for the benefit of the schools, but is not always employed according to the first intention. At this time there was in the state of Indiana only one college; it was at Blooming Town. There was no clergyman at Harmony, and, with the exception of the meetings of some religious sects, the inhabitants were destitute of both religious and school instruction. Business, or festive occasions, bring the backwoodsmen into the town, where they indulge their love of whisky, which generally retards their return homeward. They have a good race of horses, and are bold horsemen; even the women are frequently seen on the saddle, and whole families travel in this way—man, woman, and child ofttimes mounted on the same beast. There is nothing characteristic in their costume, like the original dresses which are met with in the country in Germany; but they wear a medley, and bad imitation of all the fashions of English towns; caps, felt and straw hats, frocks, great-coats, plaids, &c. The women, too, endeavour to imitate the fashions of the towns, wear large hats with loose veils, and gaudy plaid mantles, which, altogether, have often a most ludicrous effect in these remote forests. The winter dress of the men is often not ill chosen, though perfectly novel to a stranger. At that season they wear great-coats made of the common woollen horsecloths, white or green, with gay stripes on the collar, cuffs, and pockets; 83 nay, some are striped all over like zebras: such a coat, of the commonest kind, cannot be had here for less than eight or ten dollars. Noisy parties of these people frequently assemble at the public-houses of Harmony, gather round the fire, and let the whisky circulate briskly, while their horses are frequently left the whole day, standing in the street, amid rain and snow. On Sunday, which is kept by many of the inhabitants, though there is no divine service, they are more decently clad, wash their faces, and make some attempt at putting their hair in order, which hangs dishevelled about their faces. The young men often went to the chase, others played in the streets, generally at ball, but a great number remained at their work, and the peasants and farmers, with their huge wagons, followed their usual occupations. On certain days, especially when a magistrate, a president, or a governor was to be chosen, all were gathered together, for they all take great interest in the government of the country, and would not, on any account, renounce the privilege which, in their estimation, makes them important statesmen. On such election days, whole troops of them ride into the town; the streets are crowded with their horses, which are tied up, and the whisky-shops resound with their tumultuous discussions. Every man gives his vote; disputes arise; and, as in the Polish diets, their excited passions frequently lead to blows. They are all great politicians, and some of them are well acquainted with the newspapers. In the winter, as soon as snow fell, sledge parties commenced at Harmony. Six or eight persons were on separate seats, two and two together, upon one sledge; others amused themselves with skating, for which, however, they had not much opportunity in the winter of 1832-3. There were frequent balls at the inns; on New Year's Eve they literally danced the whole night through.

Agriculture is still in its infancy about New Harmony, and the people depend on the extraordinary fertility of the soil. In the immediate vicinity of the town land is not cheap, having already risen to fifteen dollars per acre; whereas, at the distance of two miles, there was still a considerable quantity of Congress land, which might be had at one dollar per acre. There was a tax of fifty cents, or half a dollar, on every quarter of a square mile of land. What is called Congress land, is frequently taken possession of, for a time, by new comers, who have no right to it. They fell the wood, erect their huts, and nobody hinders them in their proceedings till the lawful owner ejects them, who has purchased the land of the Government. A square mile of 84 Congress land was still to be had for 100 dollars; but these lands are subject to the periodical inundations of the Wabash, when the farmers are obliged to fly with all their effects to more elevated stations. They have then to look for their cattle in the great forests, and drive them away; but they cannot always find all the animals, many of which perish. The fertility of the soil is increased by these inundations. Congress land which was not exposed to inundation, could be bought for one dollar twenty-five cents per acre. This high water is said often to present an interesting scene. Hogs and other animals, even the opossum, have been found on low trees, where they had sought protection.

The chief vegetable production of this part of the country is maize, which grows to the height of twelve or thirteen feet; the ears are very large and heavy; I found some weighing fourteen to fifteen ounces, and nearly three inches in diameter, in which I counted above 1,000 grains. They ripen in September, October, November, and December, and are often left standing through the winter, till wanted for use. There are fifteen varieties of this important plant; one kind, called sweet corn, is particularly good when roasted in an unripe state. It is calculated that the best soil will yield 100 bushels of corn per acre. Very good cakes and bread are prepared of maize flour, and there are many other ways of dressing it. When boiled with milk it is called mush. All living creatures in this country subsist, almost exclusively, on this invaluable production. When the whites arrived in America numerous Indian tribes subsisted on it; quadrupeds, birds, nay, even fish, are fond of it. At the places where the flat boats, laden with maize, land, the fish collect and assemble in great numbers, and fall an easy prey to the fishermen. At this time the corn was sold at six and a half cents per bushel at Harmony; whereas, on the frontiers of Canada, two dollars were paid for it. Living is, consequently, very cheap on the banks of the Wabash. The maize is brought to market in large wagons, drawn by four oxen, and a considerable quantity is thence sent by water carriage. Other kinds of grain—wheat, rye, barley, and oats—which ripen in June, are likewise cultivated. Barley is grown for the brewers; and oats, in considerable quantities, for the horses. Potatoes, too, are extensively cultivated, but they are by no means so good and mealy as in Germany. There is a great variety of culinary vegetables. There are abundance of apples, but not many pears, which do not thrive; peaches are good, and very productive; quantities fall to the ground, where they are consumed by the hogs; plums and cherries are rarely grown; the latter are not so good as in Europe, but very fruitful. The vine was formerly cultivated, but it is now quite neglected. According to Warden, cotton is grown at Vincennes, Princetown, and Harmony, but this does not seem to be the case at present. This plant does not thrive beyond the 31st degree of latitude. The inhabitants grow hemp and flax for their own consumption, and some tobacco; bad cigars are made at Harmony, and, in general, good tobacco is rarely to be met with in the United States. Maple sugar is manufactured in great abundance in Indiana. Warden says that, in 1810, 50,000 lbs. 85 were made in this State, and, at present, it was worth seven or eight cents a pound. Many of the inhabitants obtain, in the spring, about 100 lbs. of this sugar. In this part of the country the corn is not thrashed, but generally trodden out by horses; a very imperfect process, which appears to have originated in the times of the ancient Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans.

Next to agriculture the breeding of cattle is an important object among the backwoodsmen; but is likewise ill understood. The breed of swine furnishes the principal supply for food and exportation, great quantities of pork being sent to New Orleans. Mr. Owen had established a whisky distillery, and fattened the swine on the refuse. About 1,500 barrels of whisky, worth ten dollars a barrel, were made every year in Mr. Owen's distillery. Great numbers of swine are in the woods of Indiana, far from all human dwellings, where they grow very fat by the abundance of oak and beech mast. They are of a reddish brown colour, with round black spots; there are some quite wild, which anybody is at liberty to shoot. These animals are never housed, even in the vicinity of Harmony. We observed them, in our excursions, in the depth of winter, when the young ones often perish with cold; and we also saw them eaten by the mothers. Dead swine were lying about in all directions, partly devoured by others. The negligence and want of feeling with which the animals are treated, are very great; and, accordingly, the breed of cattle can never flourish. The cattle, which are very fine, are kept in the open air day and night, amidst ice and snow, with which their backs are covered; the same may be said of the horses; nay, in cold moonlight nights, we saw these animals standing in the street, near their master's dwelling, as if they hoped to be let in. The animals are generally fed in the morning with maize, and a woman usually appears at an early hour, in her plaid, to milk the cows.

The cattle of this country are large and handsome, very hardy, and do not differ in figure or colour from those of Germany; no food is given them in winter but the dry leaves of maize. No clover or other forage is cultivated, so that the cattle and horses are confined to straw, the bark of trees, and the green reed, miegia, which forms a thick underwood in the forests on the Wabash. Everywhere one sees the bark and twigs gnawed, and even the fruit trees are often damaged in this manner. Horses and cattle frequently starve to death in the winter. I was told that the animals gnaw, in preference, the nettle-tree (Celtis occidentalis), the hack-berry (Celtis crassifolia), and the sugar maple. It is remarkable that the swine, which otherwise refuse no species of fruit, will not touch that of the papaw tree (Asimina). All the beef in this country is of a bad quality, because, as I have said, no forage is cultivated. In Pennsylvania it is quite the reverse; there a great deal of clover is grown, and the beef is, consequently, good. In Indiana pork is said to be much better and easier of digestion than to the east of the Alleghanys. We saw but few sheep, and no goats, at Harmony. There were plenty of geese and domestic fowls, but only a few tame ducks.

The mode of tilling the ground for the different kinds of grain, has been described by 86 many travellers; I will therefore merely observe that the plough is different in its construction from that used in Germany, and that the oxen are attached to it by a very peculiar yoke, which consists of a long, thick, crooked piece of wood, which is laid horizontally over the necks of the two oxen, with two bows underneath, through which the heads of the animals are put.

My stay at New Harmony, which was at first intended to be only for a few days, was prolonged by serious indisposition, nearly resembling cholera, to a four months' winter residence. At any other place in this country I should have extremely regretted such a loss of time, but here I derived much instruction and entertainment from my intercourse with two highly-informed men, Mr. Thomas Say and Mr. Lesueur, who, during my two months' illness, gave me constant proofs of kindness, and endeavoured to make our time pass agreeably and usefully. I received also much kindness from other estimable families, Messrs. Owen (who were educated by Fellenberg, in Switzerland), Mr. Maclure and his sister, and Mr. Twigg. My walks and hunting excursions with the two naturalists were very instructive. Mr. Say's house was in a garden, where he cultivated many interesting plants of the interior of Western America. I there saw a large Maclura aurantiaca (Nuttall), the bow or yellow wood, or Osage orange, from the river Arkansas, of the wood of which many Indian tribes make their bows. It is a prickly tree, with very tough wood. There was one at St. Louis, in the garden of Mr. Pierre Chouteau, which did not, however, flourish. Dr. Pitcher had the kindness to give me some of the seeds of this tree, 87 which, however, have not succeeded. In Mr. Say's garden I likewise saw Euphorbia marginata, from Arkansas, several beautiful phlox; and the Lonicera sempervirens was laden with its ripe fruit. The Euphorbia marginata flourishes exceedingly well at Bonn, where it was raised from seeds which I brought.

Mr. Say's zoological collection was confined to insects and shells. He was less anxious to possess a complete collection than to have a good library, which, thanks to Mr. Maclure, he really possessed, and new insects and shells were sent to him from all parts of the United States, which he immediately described. He had a very extensive correspondence, even with Europe, and received many conchylia, which he used and compared for his work on American conchology. This work was entirely got up here in Harmony, for Mrs. Say drew and coloured the figures very faithfully after nature, which were engraved by an artist, engaged by Mr. Maclure; the text also was printed there. Mr. Say's entomological collection was continually damaged by the rapacious insects, which are much more dangerous and destructive here than in Europe. The most fatal to the zoological collections, in this country, besides the common European moth (Phalæna sarcitella), are the Dermestes lardarius, Anthrinus muscorum, Dermestes vulpinus, Necrobia violetia, Acarus destructor, and several others, among which there are some brought from Europe.

Mr. Lesueur's labours were chiefly in the higher orders of the animal kingdom; he had explored the country in many directions, was acquainted with everything remarkable, collected and prepared all interesting objects, and had already sent considerable collections to France. He was a skilful draughtsman, and his portfolios of drawings, made during his voyage round the world, and in his residence in America, afforded us much gratification during the winter. He had paid great attention to the fishes of the Wabash, Ohio, and Mississippi, for which his frequent visits to New Orleans had given him the best opportunity. His friend Barrabino, who died prematurely in that city, and took much interest in the sciences, had been of great assistance to him. It would be a pity if the interesting labours of Mr. Lesueur, in natural history, were not communicated to the learned world during his lifetime.

I shall always retain a most pleasing recollection of the excursions which we made in the neighbourhood of Harmony, with Mr. Say, and to greater distances, with Mr. Lesueur. One of the most agreeable was when we sailed down the Wabash, and landed on its wooded islands. Immediately on the west of the river, is Fox Island, a large thickly wooded tract, between the Wabash and Fox River. We generally left Harmony by water, in bright, sunny weather. The Wabash divides into several arms, forming beautiful romantic islands, covered with tall forests, partly surrounded by quantities of drift wood. The water of the river is clear and dark green, and the bottom, which is plainly seen, is covered with large bivalve shells (Unio), as well as with several kinds of snails. High trees uniformly clothe the shore, and colossal, wide-spreading planes rise above the dense forests. In some places there are sand-banks, where shells are 88 found in abundance, and where the track of the racoon and the mink, which come here in the night to seek their food, are imprinted in all directions on the wet ground. Under the old roots of trees on the bank, which is from ten to twenty feet high, we saw the burrows of the minks, into which it had taken a quantity of shells. The common people here think that this is done by the musk-rat, which is certainly a mistake. The musk-rat lives on vegetables, and it is only the small beasts of prey that live on shell-fish. There were various species of ducks, which rose in flocks before us, and flew rapidly to the undisturbed parts of the banks. Besides the common wild duck, which was the most numerous, there were the beautiful wood duck, the blue-winged teal, and the pintail duck, or sea-pheasant. After proceeding about three quarters of an hour, we usually landed on Fox Island, on the right bank, fastened our boat to the trunk of a large fallen tree, and then went up the steep bank into a thick, lofty forest, where the high reeds were intersected with small, narrow paths, made by the horses and cattle of the neighbouring farmers. From our several landing places, we had to proceed only about 100 steps across the island to the Fox River, which runs here, for a pretty considerable distance, parallel to the Wabash, and joins it below Fox Island. The stream is highly picturesque, with romantic banks, large uprooted trees, colossal planes, magnificent oaks, hickory, shellbark hickory, &c. Here grows the lofty gymnocladus, with its large, broad pods, and the beautiful catalpa. Bignonia radicans and cruciata wind round the trunks, as well as thick, clustering vines (Hedera quinquefolia) and the poison vine. Vast quantities of fallen trees lay in the water, and, when it was low, often formed a kind of bridge. The trunks of the plane are very remarkable; they are often so thick that five or six men cannot span them. When of this size they are generally hollow. These trees are suffered to grow so old, because they yield but indifferent timber. Twenty or thirty feet from the ground, the trunk usually divides into several thick branches, which rise to a very great height; they have a bark of dazzling whiteness, which forms a singular contrast with the brown forests, when leafless and bare in winter. This tree never attains such a thickness and height in Europe, and hence the white colour of the branches is wanting. The quiet, lonely Fox River is covered, during the whole day, with numerous ducks. Whenever we approached cautiously through the reeds, and over the dry leaves, scattered on the ground, we could immediately fire at them. The kingfisher (Alcedo alcyon), is constantly seen here, and many species of birds, particularly the blue-crested roller (Garrulus cristatus), came to the water to drink. Unluckily we had no European hounds, which would have been of great service to us, and thus, from want of them, we often lost the ducks we had shot. The turkey buzzards were seen hovering in the air, and, after wet weather, were often observed sitting in the sunshine, with outspread wings, on the highest trees. If we shot a bird, and did not immediately pick it up, it was sure to be devoured by these ravenous creatures. If the buzzards were driven away, the cunning crows supplied their place. The whole air was soon filled with these buzzards, hovering round and round, 89 while numbers of others sat together on the high trees. If we shot at them when flying, they immediately vomited; this I likewise observed in Brazil. We found here some heads of the paddle-fish, which lives in the stream. If we left the banks of the rivers, and advanced far into the forests, we had often to clamber over fallen trunks of trees, covered with moss, and to penetrate through matted reeds, where we heard the voice of the grey squirrel, and the hammering of the numerous woodpeckers. Among the entangled climbing plants, we often saw, throughout the whole winter, the beautiful cardinal, or red-bird; finches of various kinds; and on the decayed trees, on the ground, some kinds of Troglodytes. Towards the end of autumn, and early in warm days in February, nay, even in December and January, we often saw in Fox River, on stones, and old submersed trunks of trees, large tortoises basking in the sun, which we sometimes shot at with our fowling-pieces, but we seldom got them. They are very shy, and plunge into the water as soon as any one approaches.

Towards noon the scattered sportsmen usually re-assembled, with their booty, round a cheerful fire, under ancient plane trees, on the bank of Fox River. Our frugal repast, which we had brought with us, was seasoned by the exercise in the open air, in the fine forests of Indiana and Illinois. Tortoises, shell-fish, birds, &c., were deposited in our boat. Mr. Lesueur frequently accompanied us in these excursions. Once, on the 7th of March, he found, on Fox Island, a couple of marmots above ground, one of which ran into its burrow, while the other sought refuge on a low tree, where, however, it was shot. We then dug for the other, in hopes of finding it, but the burrow went so far and deep into the ground, that we were forced to give it up. This circumstance may serve as a proof that the animals which sleep throughout the winter make their appearance about this time.

In our excursions we often visited some others of the numerous islands in the Wabash, being particularly attracted thither by the loud cries of the wild turkey; their voice is exactly similar to that of the European turkey. We could hear them scratching among the dry leaves on the ground, in search of food. If we surprised them, they were generally too far off for our fowling-pieces, loaded with small shot, for they ran away with extraordinary rapidity. Turkey Island seemed to be a favourite place of resort. At the upper end of the island drifted wood was frequently piled up to such a height, that it was difficult to clamber over it, and among this wood there were generally many otters. Here we often found wild turkeys, and even the Virginian deer; and it is really a fine sight to see a flock of these wild turkeys fly across the river, or a swarm of wild geese, with loud screams, swim down the stream. The grey eagle was often seen sitting on the lofty plane trees, on the bank; and the white-headed eagle hovered in the air, at a great height.

On another hunting excursion, up the Wabash, we proceeded as far as Black River, a stream which falls into the Wabash, three miles from Harmony. On the 5th of January, at eight 90 o'clock in the morning, the mercury in Reaumur's thermometer was twelve and a half degrees above freezing point, and the fish leaped above the surface of the water as in summer. Near some small log-houses the people were employed in felling the high trees, and our boatmen observed that those new settlers had taken possession of this Congress land without any right to do so. Such irregularities are very frequent here; thus, for instance, they cut down large trees on Mr. Maclure's property for making their flat boats, and yet nobody calls them to account. These are the backwoodsmen of Illinois and Indiana. On the high banks of the river we observed in the forest a mink-trap. It nearly resembles, in miniature, the great bear-trap; is covered on all sides with brushwood, so that the animal can enter only at a certain place. The Black River, which, in some parts, is wide and expanded, was now rather narrow and shallow, the water of a pure green colour. The bottom consists chiefly of sand or clay; it is contracted at the mouth, where a quantity of sand has accumulated, and where poplars and lofty planes grow; colossal vines wound round their trunks, of which we cut off one that was very thick, as a specimen. While our boatmen were engaged in this work, and in looking for shell-fish, we advanced several miles up the stream, where we met with frequent obstacles in the forest. The large dry leaves of the planes made such a rustling, that we could seldom get near the ducks, numbers of which were swimming on the stream. I collected on the bank the beautiful orange-coloured seeds of the Celastrus scandens, and several others. We generally returned home with ducks and other birds, but we were unsuccessful in our chase of the wild turkeys, of which we sometimes saw whole flocks fly across the Wabash. Many an hour we passed in these forests, watching for ducks and birds of prey; where, while we stood concealed in a hollow plane, the small birds sometimes flew almost into the face of the sportsman, or settled on his gun.

In order to explore the forests of Harmony, in the southern direction, Mr. Say took me to a neighbouring estate of Mr. Maclure, on Rush Creek, through a romantic, lofty forest, where very fine tulip trees, with thick and high trunks, as straight as a ship's mast, and very rough bark, were growing. This tall, splendid tree bears its fine large flowers only at the very summit. The wood is of a greenish pale yellow colour, and is used by cabinet makers. The red-headed woodpecker was almost the only bird that was seen here. The whole track consists of steep hills, separated by small valleys, on which we particularly observed the ancient tumuli of the aboriginal inhabitants of these forests. Passing through a valley we came to Rush Creek, which we crossed by a very ruinous bridge of branches of trees, to the opposite bank, where Hydrangea arborescens grew. Several species of maple grow here, which have certainly not been properly distinguished and classed. Their trunks, covered with rough bark, are often not to be spanned by three men, and they grow perfectly straight. Near the junction of the Rush Creek and the Wabash, we came to the small log-house of a tenant of Mr. Maclure, where the woman was engaged in domestic employments, while the children were picking bones, probably 91 of wild turkeys, with which they ate maize bread. In front of the house lay large blocks of catalpa wood, which, when fresh cut, is of a brownish yellow colour, and emits a peculiar smell. We were told of a stream in the neighbourhood, the water of which was said to have killed many persons. We visited this dangerous water, which is very cold, but does not appear to have any peculiar ingredients. One of our party, who had often drunk of it, without injury, affirmed that those men had not been killed by the water, but by whisky; probably, however, death was caused by drinking this excessively cold water when they were overheated.

In a dense forest, some miles to the north-west of Harmony, was a narrow pond, or, rather, long, broad ditch, called Long Pond, which, at certain seasons of the year, is connected with Fox River, to which we sometimes made excursions. Beyond the Wabash, in this direction, the forest has a sandy soil, which, however, is soon succeeded by a rich clay. A man well acquainted with the country was our conductor; we were obliged to force our way through the closely-matted reeds, where there was no path, and our clothes were completely torn by them. On all sides we heard the bells of the oxen and horses, and our guide easily found his own beasts, which knew his voice. He had wished me to take a compass, which was not done, and we, in fact, twice lost our way, in consequence; for it is not easy to discover one's latitude in such thick, bewildering reed forests. Woodpeckers and squirrels were the usual fruits of our excursions in this wilderness. After passing a couple of isolated habitations, we came to a hollow in the forest, about a mile long, and full of water. This was the Long Pond, in which many varieties of water plants were growing.

Our guide had taken a hatchet and a basket, in order to dig up the roots of a yellow-flowering Nymphæa, which was growing in luxuriance, and which he intended to employ as a poultice to a swelled face. The surface of the water was covered with an elegant plant, Azolla Caroliniana (Wild), which formed mossy verdant spots, and is here found on all standing water. The cardinal and the blue-crested roller frequented this place; and near a field of maize, in the forest, I saw large flocks of parrots, of which we often shot many with great ease. They were not shy, and soon re-assembled after our shot had dispersed them. Their manner and note much resembled those of the long-tailed paroquet of Brazil. With a shrill cry they flew rapidly from tree to tree, when their beautiful bright green colour was seen to great advantage. Mr. Bodmer has given a very faithful representation of one of these flocks. They eat the fruit of the planes; and if we did not disturb them, they sat in a row, close together, to warm themselves in the faint beams of the January sun. We sometimes found a great number of turkey buzzards collected about the carcass of a dead animal; some sitting crowded on the high trees, others hovering in the air; but it was not easy to get at them. We occasionally met with horses, which, in these 92 wildernesses, familiarly approach those who happen to pass, in the hope of receiving salt from them. On our return home we were often gratified with the view of a splendid fiery evening sky on the Wabash; the lofty crowns of the forest trees appeared to burn, while the snow-white stems of the tall planes assumed a roseate tint, and reflected their beauty in the smooth surface of the water.

The winter which we passed at Harmony was, on the whole, mild. Woodpeckers, pigeons, thrushes, the great lark, the cardinal, the blue-bird, and many others, were seen in the orchards during the whole winter. The coveys of partridges lay in the fields of maize, or the thorn hedges, sheltered and protected from the cold. There were often very warm days in the middle of winter. On such a day, the 31st of January, I found, at noon, the thermometer being +5° R., at the foot of a thick plane tree, a great number of the red and black spotted lady-bird, which were half frozen. Tortoises were seen, on warm days, during the whole winter. In the middle of February, a great number of the white maple, called also the soft or swamp maple, were in blossom in the forests; and, towards the end of that month, the song of many birds resounded through the woods and orchards. Flights of cranes passed over. The Arabis bulbosa (Mühlenb.) blossomed, as well as the hazel, yet there were still some cold days. The Americans have a proverb—"When winter comes in like a lion, it goes out like a lamb," and vice versa. This winter, however, the cold had not set in early. At the beginning of March we had frost. On the 2nd of March, at eight in the morning, Reaumur's thermometer was at –16°; and at twelve o'clock at noon, –9°. Small pieces of water were frozen over; the ducks, especially the pintail ducks, which were now constantly disturbed in the Wabash, by the navigation and by the sportsman, sought for small pieces of open water; and when they were driven from these, repaired to the woods or the maize fields. The blackbird and the robin sought their scanty food on the banks of the brooks. Many species of animals were, however, in motion at the beginning of March. Numbers of tortoises appeared; the note of the owl was heard in the forests, even in the daytime; the wood-snipe fluttered about, and the young leaves of the sambucus, and the flowers of the corylus, gave an enlivening appearance to the forest. The voice of the turtle-dove was heard as early as the 8th of February; insects buzzed about; flocks of migratory pigeons flew towards the north and east; and on the 9th, the first steam-boat went up the Wabash.

We had satisfactory accounts of the sanitary state of the southern and western parts of the United States. At Cincinnati the violence of the cholera had abated at the commencement of the Indian summer; on the Ohio it had generally ceased; and St. Louis, by the latest reports, was perfectly healthy. Mr. Bodmer, who had made an excursion to New Orleans, in December and January, found the cholera still there, but it had greatly abated; and I therefore resolved to make preparations for proceeding on our journey, as soon as our collections were packed up and sent off.

CHAPTER IX

JOURNEY FROM NEW HARMONY TO ST. LOUIS ON THE MISSISSIPPI, AND OUR STAY THERE, FROM MARCH 16TH TO APRIL 9TH, 1833

Mount Vernon—Mouth of the Wabash—Shawneetown—Battery Rock—Cave-in-Rock—Cumberland River—Tenessee River—Mouth of the Ohio—Cape Girardeau—Grand Tower—St. Genevieve—Merrimack River—Vide Poche—Kahokia—St. Louis—Sac and Fox Indians—Meeting of the Black Hawk with his Countrymen at Jefferson Barracks—The American Fur Company—Preparations for the Journey up the Missouri.

After taking leave of our friends at Harmony, who, during a residence of four months, had given us unvarying proofs of kindness and hospitality, we set out on horseback early in the morning of the 16th of March, leaving our baggage to be conveyed by the Ohio. The day was fine, and, rejoicing in the warm spring sun, we reached the hills that bounded the valley of the Wabash. We were immediately surrounded by lofty forests, and cast a farewell look on the cheerful country which had so long sheltered us. Perched on the top of the maple, oak, and tulip tree, the robin poured forth his morning song. The turtle-dove was cooing with her sweet low moan, and the shrill voice and hammering of the woodpeckers resounded on every side. In Europe the soft note of the turtle is not heard till spring is more advanced, and the trees are clothed with verdure. Many trees were covered with buds; those of the dog-wood were particularly forward, the beautiful white flowers of which appear before the leaves; this is the case with many of the trees of this country. We passed Rush Creek, on the eminences near which grow many sugar-maple trees, the juice of which was tapped, and had in some of them already ceased to flow. At the lower part of all the trunks, we found small tubes of elder inserted, from which the insipid sweetish juice ran into the troughs placed below them. It is said to flow in great abundance, when hot spring days are succeeded by cold frosty nights. We soon reached what is called a sugar camp in the forest; it is a hut, in the floor of which four kettles are fixed for boiling the juice. This 94 hut contains likewise large troughs, in which the juice from the smaller, placed at the trees, is collected. Such a hut, with the maples growing around it, is called a sugar camp, and the quantity of sugar produced depends on the number of maples in the vicinity. Many camps furnish in one spring 300, 500, or even 1000 lbs. of sugar, which is crystallized in loaves. It is brown, but very sweet, and has no disagreeable flavour. We refreshed ourselves with the juice in the small troughs, which our horses drank greedily.

The people in the isolated dwellings in the forest were partly engaged in burning the timber. Many of the small wooden houses of these peasants were without windows; glass windows are quite a luxury, and the only light enjoyed in the daytime is admitted by the open door. We saw in all these dwellings, very wide, large beds. We crossed the Big Creek, a considerable stream, with rising banks, by a wooden bridge; here we saw many piles of oak bark, which is sold to the tanneries. At noon, the weather being excessively hot, we reached Mount Vernon, on the Ohio.

In this little scattered place, with about 600 inhabitants, among whom there are five medical men, about one third of the buildings are of brick; the town-hall stands in an open square. The Ohio, which we immediately visited, had now a much more striking appearance than at our first visit in the autumn. It is considerably broader than the Rhine, and it is said that it often rises thirty feet higher—up to the very thresholds of the buildings standing on the bank. The view both up and down the river was beautiful. The immediate environs of Mount Vernon consist of damp marshy forests; hence the water is very bad, and the inhabitants prefer even that of the Ohio. The temperature at noon was now very warm; 14° Reaumur.

We were obliged to wait a couple of days in this little town for a steam-boat, to go down the river. The rushing noise of the steamers often called us to the river, but they were mostly going up, and disappeared at Diamond Island. At last, on the 18th of March, about ten in the morning, two steam-boats appeared, of which the largest, the Napoleon, did not stop; while the smaller one, the Conveyance, took us in. We proceeded rapidly, reached before noon Wabash Island, near the mouth of that river, and after dinner landed at Shawneetown.

Shawneetown or Shawaneetown is a hamlet lying along the banks of the river, and containing from 600 to 700 inhabitants. The best buildings are some inns, shops, and the post-office. The tribe of the Shawnee Indians formerly dwelt in this country, and were succeeded by some Delawares, who have been long since expelled or extirpated. Arrow-heads of flint, as well as the bones, &c., of these people, are frequently found in the neighbourhood. The Shawnees were said to have previously dwelt on the Savaney River, on the coast of Florida, and afterwards lived for about sixty-five years in the state of Ohio. They consisted, according to Dr. Morse, of four tribes:—1. The Piqua; 2. The Maguachake; 3. The Kiskopokoke, to which the celebrated prophet, Elsquataway, and his distinguished brother, Tecumseh, belonged. They were very warlike. In 95 1806 they settled near Greenville, in the State of Ohio, and their subsequent history is well known. They afterwards went to the country about Tippecanoe. 4. The Chillicothes, who live in the vicinity of the town of that name; these, and further accounts of these people, are to be found in Dr. Morse, and other writers.

Twelve miles inland from Shawneetown are the celebrated salt works on Saline River, near Equality; much salt is annually manufactured there, and sent to Shawneetown, on the Ohio, where it is embarked. Here, as at Mount Vernon, the environs of the place consist of damp forests, with many marshes, from which noxious exhalations arise. The weather was chilly, windy, and rainy, especially towards evening, so that a fire was very welcome. Coals are found about seven miles from the town, and seem to be of a good kind. There were many negroes in Shawneetown; whereas, in Harmony and Mount Vernon, there were only two or three families of that race.

On the morning of the 19th, the weather being warm, and the sky clouded, we embarked in the Paragon steamboat. The fine broad river shone brightly; on the banks the summits of the forest formed an even line parallel to the shore, as even as if they had been cut, the snow-white stems of the planes glistening among the sombre mass. The kingfisher, the wild duck, and red-breasted goose, were numerous in the wild, romantic willow islands. The banks of the Ohio now began to be higher; the rocks are of limestone, which forms, in many parts of the forests, romantic masses of rock, partly yellow, partly of a grey colour. The river was at this time nearly of the same colour as the Rhine, when clear. After passing the mouth of the Saline River, we reached, on the right, or Illinois bank, the long flat bank of rocks known by the name of Battery Rock. This wall of rock, at the lower part of the bank, is marked with horizontal strata, or stripes, from sixty to eighty feet high, covered with whitish or bluish green and bright green lichens and mosses, rent by several ravines, and crowned with woods, and a small house or cottage on the very summit. From this place we saw, on the rocky banks, some red cedars here and there, from twenty to thirty feet in height. I observe, for the botanist, that this tree is not found except where the bank consists of rocks. After passing Cave-in-Rock Island, a long, wooded island, we glided past Cave-in-Rock, a cavern which traverses from side to side a steep rock in Illinois, and has been drawn by Lesueur. The rocky wall, in which this well-known opening is situated, is marked with regular, narrow, yellowish grey or reddish strata of limestone, and is crowned with cedars and other trees. It is twenty-five miles below Shawneetown. Calcareous petrifactions, or rather impressions, are very numerous. Above the larger mouth of the cavern, towards the Ohio, is a smaller chamber, which is said to have formerly been the retreat of banditti and coiners. The rock is hard limestone, with sea shells and animal remains scattered in it, but no fossil bones have ever been found there.

Towards noon we reached Golconda Island, twenty and a half miles from Cave-in-Rock, 96 and then Golconda in Illinois, a small town, with a few white buildings, in which they were erecting a court-house, and which is the seat of the tribunals of Pope County. Near Sister Islands we met the Brunswick steamer, which had in tow two large flat boats, full of horses, which were being conveyed from Mount Vernon to New Orleans. The owners of the horses have to pay above 500 dollars for the voyage. Opposite Cumberland Island is the mouth of the Cumberland River, which comes from Kentucky, and falls into the Ohio, at an acute angle. This river is not so large as the Wabash. A small village, called Smithland, is built at the mouth, which reminded me of a little Brazilian villa, the houses, mostly one story high, lying in a row by the water-side.

At this place the Paragon took in wood and provisions. Not far from Smithland is the mouth of the Tenessee River, which is said to be more considerable than the Cumberland, and to have a course of 1,200 miles. The little village, Paduca, on the left bank of the Ohio, appeared to have much traffic, and a number of new shops had been built. The Western Pilot of the year 1829 does not mention this place—a proof of its recent origin. From hence we came to the spot where Fort Massac formerly stood, stones of which are still found. We lay to some hundred paces below to take in wood, of which our vessel consumed twelve cords daily. The grass on the banks was already of a bright green colour, and a race of large long-legged sheep were grazing on it. We lay to for the night.

Early in the morning of the 20th of March we approached the mouth of the Ohio, where it falls into the Mississippi, 959 miles from Pittsburg, and 129¾ miles from St. Louis. The tongue of land on the right, which separates the two rivers, was, like the whole of the country, covered with rich woods, which were partly cleared, and a few houses erected, with an inn and store, and the dwelling of a planter, where we took in wood. In this store we saw, among heaps of skins, that of a black bear, lately killed, of which one of the three cubs, a very comical little beast, had been kept alive. This young bear had on his breast a semicircle of white hair. The settlement, at which we now were, has no other name than Mouth of the Ohio. We now entered the Mississippi, and ascended it, keeping to the left or eastern bank. This river is not broader here than the Ohio, and the water of both was of the same colour; the bank was steep, covered with broken stems of trees, and crowned on the summit with high slender poplars. The lower banks were clothed with lofty trees, and at their feet strips of poplar and willows bending over the water. On the right hand, in particular, were romantic forest scenes; a wilderness of fallen trees, which the floods and storms had thrown and piled upon each other, like an abatis. Parasite plants wound round the trees, and matted them together; while, further on, rose the picturesque terraces of the wood-covered bank. There being many snags (trunks lying in the water) in the river, we could only proceed by daylight. The islands, covered with high poplars, were generally bordered with thickets of willow, which had now no appearance whatever of green, but looked of a bright yellowish red, from the colour of their branches. Gleams of sunshine 97 sometimes cast over these willow thickets a fine red glow, and gave them a very original appearance. Large quantities of drifted wood were frequently seen on the points of the islands towards the current. The water being very low, we were obliged to take soundings, and yet our vessel proceeded five or eight hours against the stream. The O'Connell steam-boat had run aground in this place, and its people were employed in landing the cargo, consisting chiefly of lead. In many places on the bank, slender poplars form thick groves, whose tall stems spread into branches at the summit. They are all of an equal height, and are one of the characteristic features in the landscape scenery of the Mississippi and Missouri. At twelve at noon, Reaumur's thermometer was at +14½°, with a high wind, which blew the sand of the sand banks into the air. We lay to, to take in fuel, which cost three dollars for two cords. Here was a high, steep, sandy bank, and a small, very wretched planter's log-house, exposed on all parts to the wind, the sides of which consisted only of boards set upright. A couple of bad beds took up almost the whole of the interior. The woman, with her pipe in her mouth, was occupied at the miserable fire-place; the man was just returned, with a boy, from the forest; the two other children looked unhealthy, weak and pale; one of these girls was employed in planting onions in a small patch of newly-prepared ground. A couple of oxen, five or six young hogs, and some Muscovy ducks, were feeding about the cottage. Immediately behind, and close to it, commenced the magnificent, dense, and lofty forest, which we resolved at once to explore, and there very sensibly felt the heat of the spring, because the wind could not penetrate. The underwood of the forest consisted of the spicewood (Laurus benzoin), which grows to the height of ten and fifteen feet; its bark is highly aromatic, and it was covered with small yellow blossoms, which appear before the leaves, and resemble those of our cornelian cherry. The abundance of these flowers gives to the underwood a lively tint, which strikes the eye at a distance. Large, lofty trees, overgrown with climbing plants, formed the forest on the Mississippi, and the ground was covered with a delicate yellow flowering plant (Corydalis flava, N.) In the front of the cottage, which was close to the bank, stood a tree, about which a beautiful Bignonia radicans entwined; and the turkey buzzards hovered high in the air above the forest.

As we proceeded on our voyage, the wind was so high, and it raised the waves and the sand so excessively, that we sought the protection of the opposite bank. We passed many islands, several of which give a great insight into the formation of the banks of the Mississippi. One of them, especially, showed, at a certain place, a bank which had sunk down, where we perceived layers of large trunks of trees, heaped one upon another, the tops of which were visible. On such foundations the river throws its sand, willows and poplars grow up, by the leaves of which good earth is formed, and, in the end, lofty forests of hard wood arise. Though the Paragon drew only five feet of water, we were often aground; the wind laid the vessel a little on the side, the crew shoved with poles, sounded, stopped the engine, then made the vessel go backwards 98 and then sidewards, and so got afloat again. Little villages were seldom seen on this part of the banks of the Mississippi; however, we came to the village of Commerce, on a rocky hill, and it is here that rows of hills of a very interesting appearance commence on the left or Missouri bank. Fragments of rock lie about, and the cedar (Juniperus Virginiana) immediately appears again. The forest seems to decrease in height in these calcareous rocks, especially the planes, which are more colossal in Indiana; and on the eminences in the forests, isolated groups of rocks are often seen, frequently of singular forms, like pulpits. Night setting in, we retired to our cabin to avoid the cold evening air, and lay to under cover of the bank. At this spot there was a single planter's dwelling upon the steep bank, which was fifty or sixty feet high. A large fire was kindled at the top, which brilliantly illuminated the high trunks of the forest, and warmed our crew by its intense heat. In the cleanly cottage of the peasant, which was well closed on all sides, we conversed with his wife, who told us that their house had been burnt down a short time before, and rebuilt; she said also that wild animals abound in this part of the country; stags especially are numerous, but bears are rarely met with.

On the 21st of March we reached Cape Girardeau, an ancient French settlement, now a large scattered village, which, as we were told, had of late much improved. Beds of limestone appeared on the bank, and heaps of it were piled up; it contains many shells. After passing Devil's Island, we found in the river a sunk steam-boat, which was now quite broken up; many of these vessels passed us. The spicewood was everywhere in flower in the forests on the bank, and it is said that its appearance indicates a fine soil. The pretty narrow-leaved willow, on the contrary, was still covered with its last year's dry leaves. We passed by the villages of Bainbridge and Harrisburg, and then came to that part of the river which is called Hanging-Dog-Bend, where the Mississippi is wide and beautiful. Various strata and ravines are observed in the wooded calcareous mountains; such a stratified rock, cleft perpendicularly, has the name of Devil's Tea-table; other rocks resembled round towers standing close to each other, all crowned with wood, where the turkey buzzard resorted. The opposite or Illinois bank has very seldom any such rocks, and it is more cultivated close to the river. Flocks of ducks, probably Anas rufitorques, were swimming on the water. The calcareous rocks, grey, bright yellow, bright blue, or yellowish red, were frequently very singularly formed, especially a little further up, the interesting Grand Tower, an isolated, cylindrical rock, from sixty to eighty feet in height, which we reached when it was splendidly illumined by the setting sun. To the right, on the Illinois bank, opposite the Tower Rock, at the point or corner of the mountain projecting towards the Mississippi, three or four very strangely formed rocks are standing, full of clefts and ravines, the foremost of which is called the Devil's Bake-oven, and is covered at the summit with pines. The Grand Tower stands 99 quite isolated on the left bank; and its summit is crowned with red cedars. Behind it there is another large rock, split into several perpendicular divisions, like towers, and the whole group forms, as it were, a most original portico. Some habitations were picturesquely situated against these rocks. A little above that narrow rocky portico of the river, the Obrazo Creek, in the State of Missouri, appears, where we took in fuel. The ravine of the stream was covered with fine tall timber, to which the kingfisher resorted. A couple of cottages were inhabited by negroes, and in front of them lay a piece of fertile land, where rows of cotton trees were planted. The high old elms were now in flower by the side of the stream, and the large red cedars, around the dwellings, were still partly laden with their black berries. The Mnium ciliare (Grev.; Bryum) was abundant in this neighbourhood. Above Hat Island, we lay to for the night on the Missouri bank.

The morning of the 22nd of March was serene; the sight of the rising sun from the poop of the vessel was truly magnificent; as the flaming disk of the king of day rose above the woody banks of the Mississippi, the waves formed by the rapid course of the vessel glowed with the most resplendent colours; the wild geese and ducks, frightened by our Paragon, hastened away with rustling wings; the kingfisher was frequent on the shrubs. Near St. Mary River we ran aground, but were not long delayed by this accident. The cords of wood for the steam-boat were lying ready piled up on the bank, stating the price and the quantity. The village of Chester, in Illinois, where we took in wood, was quite a new settlement, consisting at present of but a few houses. Among the limestone and wood on the bank, we shot a beautiful lizard (Agama undulata, Daud.), which is said to attain a considerable size, especially on the river St. Peter. The buds of the red oak were very forward. At noon the weather was excessively warm, and on the river the thermometer was +11½° Reaumur. We saw the mouth of the Kaskaskia River, on the Illinois bank, six miles up which Kaskaskia is situated, one of the oldest French settlements on the Mississippi. The tribe of Kaskaskian Indians dwelt in these parts, and some remains of them still live near the settlement. We were told that there was at present only one man among them of the pure race. A wooded chain of hills runs along the Kaskaskia, in which large columns of smoke were rising, doubtless occasioned by the woods being on fire. Numbers of tortoises were basking at noon on the trunks of trees and stones in the river. They have hard shells, and most of them are not large; though we often shot at them, we did not succeed in getting a single one. Wild geese were walking upon the sand-banks; we fired at them; the first shot did not in the smallest degree discompose them; at the second, when the ball whizzed close by them, they flew away, but only to a short distance. At St. Geneviève Island, the river divides, and we steered to the west of the island. It is covered with lofty trees; the banks are abruptly broken; large trunks 100 of trees were lying in the water. Before us we saw St. Geneviève, where columns of smoke ascended in the distance; on the island was a small settlement, with a hut, worse than that of an Indian, and near, the canoe, turned bottom upwards. The inhabitants were sunburnt, badly clothed, of a savage aspect, like the Indians. A tall forest surrounded this characteristic scene. The Mississippi is here very broad, and is certainly a very noble stream. The prospect up the river is highly picturesque. Gentle eminences bound the horizon, and on account of a bend which the river makes to the right, it appears to come through a narrow opening. St. Geneviève, an old French settlement, now a large village, with 600 or 800 inhabitants, is about twenty minutes' walk from the landing-place, and appears to be in a state of decline; it was founded at the same time as Kaskaskia. The streets are at right angles, unpaved, and bordered with hedges. The houses, which are of one story, are separate from each other, and have, in general, a verandah in front. The church is built of red brick. French and English are spoken, and there are several German inhabitants. Caravans go every spring from hence to the interior of the western prairies, to Sante Fé and the Rocky Mountains; they consist of many armed men, with their horses and wagons. The well-known lead mines are further up the country. Limestone everywhere stands out: the water is very bad, and not fit for drinking.

On the morning of the 23rd of March, the sun shining very brightly, strange forms of rock, alternating with high forests, appeared on the banks of the river; on the left, or western bank especially, the walls of rock were cleft by rude valleys, from which a small stream generally issued. Single pines are scattered in the woods; on the right bank, on the skirts of the forest, is a row of poplars, of perfectly equal height, but the planes are not so high as those we have before seen. We passed the place where Fort Chârtres formerly stood. The limestone rocks in these parts assume the most highly original shapes and formations, about which much might be said if our limits would permit. They have often natural caverns and excavations, like the niches cut for the images of saints, which we see in Europe. Others have regular 101 projecting ledges and lofty cones; sometimes they are so rounded as to represent a row of perpendicular towers, &c. On many of the rocks shot towers have been erected, the whole country, as is well known, abounding in lead.

We passed by the settlement of Selma, and the village of Herculaneum; the latter consisting of about thirty houses, the immediate vicinity of which is remarkable for a perforated limestone rock. The distance from hence to Geneviève is twenty-one miles, and to St. Louis, thirty. After passing round the point of Little Rock, which is about forty feet high—beyond which the small Platteen Creek falls into the river—we soon reached the mouth of the Merrimack River, where we saw large flocks of ducks and sea-gulls. About Robert's Island the country becomes flat and uninteresting. Towards evening we reached Jefferson barracks, on the left bank, where the 6th regiment of regular infantry was in garrison, and the flag of the United States was hoisted. These barracks were interesting at this time, because the celebrated Indian chief, Black Hawk, was imprisoned in them. Before night, we passed the French settlement of Vide-Poche, or Carondelet, founded about 100 years ago, a large scattered village, the inhabitants of which are reported to be not very industrious. The neighbouring hills are covered with low oak bushes. We passed the night nearly opposite Kahokia, and on the morning of the 24th of March, to our great joy, beheld the town of St. Louis. Its first appearance is not prepossessing, as it has no high steeples. The mass of houses, however, unfolds itself as you approach; the environs are low and monotonous. We landed about nine o'clock in the morning, in a cold high wind. The people whom we first saw were mostly negroes, or labourers.