Travels in North America, From Modern Writers

Mr. Bartram landed, for the night, in a little bay, not far from the entrance to a small lake, another expansion of the river. Near this place there was much low and swampy land, and the islands in the river were numerous. The evening was cool and calm, and he went out in his canoe, to fish for trout. As the evening closed, alligators appeared in great numbers along the shores and in the river. Mr. Bartram states that he was witness to a combat between these dreadful animals, which inspired him with horror, especially as his little harbour was surrounded by them. In endeavouring to paddle his canoe through a line of alligators, he was pursued by several large ones; and, before he could reach the shore, he was assailed on every side. His situation became extremely precarious. Two very large alligators attacked him closely, rushing with their heads and part of their bodies above the water, roaring terribly, and, from their mouths, throwing floods of water over him. They struck their jaws together so close to his ears as almost to stun him; and he, every moment, expected to be dragged out of the boat and devoured by them. He held in his hand a large club, which he used so efficaciously, as to beat them off: he then hastened towards the shore, as the only means of preservation left. Here the water was shallow; and his ferocious opponents, some of which were twelve feet in length, returned into deeper water. After this, as Mr. Bartram was stepping out of his canoe, an alligator rushed up to him, near his feet, and, with its head and shoulders out of the water, lay there for some time. Mr. Bartram ran for his gun, and, having a heavy charge in it, he shot the animal in the head and killed him. While Mr. Bartram was employed in cleansing some fish for his supper, he raised his head, and beheld, through the clear water, another of these animals of large size, moving slowly towards him; and he stepped back, at the instant the beast was preparing to spring upon him. This excessive boldness gave him great uneasiness, as he feared he should be obliged to keep on watch through the whole night. He had made the best preparation, in his power, for passing the night, when he was roused by a tumultuous noise, which seemed to come from the harbour. On going to the water's edge he beheld a scene so astonishing, that it was some time before he could credit the evidence even of his own senses. The river, though of great width, appeared, from shore to shore, to be almost a solid bank of fish. These were of various species, and were pushing along the river, towards the little lake, pursued by alligators in such incredible numbers, and so close together, that, had the animals been harmless, Mr. Bartram imagined it might have been possible to have walked across the water upon their heads. During this extraordinary passage, thousands of fish were caught and swallowed by them. The horrid noise of their closing jaws, their plunging amid the broken banks of fish, and rising with their prey some feet above the water, the floods of water and blood rushing from their mouths, and the clouds of vapour issuing from their nostrils, were truly frightful. This scene continued, at intervals, during the whole night. After it was ended, Mr. Bartram says he found himself more reconciled to his situation than he had before been; as he was convinced that the extraordinary assemblage of alligators at this place had been owing to the annual passage of these shoals of fish; and that they were so well employed in their own element, that he had little occasion to fear they would wander from the banks for the purpose of annoying him.

It being now almost night, he returned to his tent, where he had left his fish broiling, and his kettle of rice stewing; and having, in his packages, oil, pepper, and salt, and, in place of vinegar, excellent oranges hanging in abundance over his head, he sat down and regaled himself cheerfully. Before he retired to rest, he was suddenly roused by a noise behind him, towards the land. He sprang up, seized his gun, and, going cautiously in the direction from which the sound approached, he beheld two large bears, advancing towards him. He waited till they were about thirty yards distant, when he snapped his piece at them. It flashed in the pan, but they both galloped off, and did not return. After this he passed the night without any other molestation than being occasionally awaked by the whooping of owls, the screaming of bitterns, or by wood-rats running among the leaves. When he arose in the morning there was perfect peace: very few alligators were to be seen, and these were asleep near the shore. His mind was not, however, free from alarm. He could not but entertain considerable dread lest, in pursuing his voyage up the river, he should, every evening, encounter difficulties similar to those which he had now experienced.

Having loaded his gun and re-embarked, he set sail cautiously along the shore; and was, not long afterwards, attacked by an alligator, which he beat off with his club; another passed close by his boat, having a brood of young ones, a hundred or more in number, following her, in a long train. On one part of the shore Mr. Bartram beheld a great number of hillocks, or small pyramids, in shape resembling haycocks, and ranged like an encampment. They were on a high marsh, fifteen or twenty yards from the water, and each about four feet in height. He knew them to be the nests of alligators, and now expected a furious and general attack, as he saw several large alligators swimming near them. Notwithstanding this he was determined to land and examine them. Accordingly, he ran his canoe on shore; and, having ascended a sloping bank or road which led to the place, he found that most of the nests were deserted, and thick whitish egg-shells lay broken and scattered upon the ground around them.

These nests were in the form of obtuse cones, and were constructed with mud, grass, and herbage. In the formation of them, the alligators had made a kind of floor of these substances, upon the ground; on this they had deposited a layer of eggs, and upon that a stratum of mortar, seven or eight inches in thickness, and then another layer of eggs; and, in this manner, one stratum upon another, nearly to the top. Mr. Bartram supposes that the eggs are hatched by the heat of the sun; and that the female alligator carefully watches her own nest of eggs until they are all hatched. He says it is certain that the young ones are not left to shift for themselves, for he had frequent opportunities of seeing female alligators leading about the shores their offspring, as a hen does her chickens.

After having gratified his curiosity, he continued his voyage up the river. In his progress he observed several small floating islands. The swamps on the banks of the river were, in general, three or four feet above the level of the water; and the timber upon them was large, but thinly scattered. The black mould of these swamps was covered with a succulent and tender kind of grass, which, when chewed, was sweet and agreeable to the taste, somewhat like young sugar-canes. Alligators were still numerous. Exposed, during the day, to the rays of a vertical sun, Mr. Bartram experienced great inconvenience in rowing his canoe against the stream; and, at night, he was annoyed by the stings of musquitoes, and he was obliged to be constantly on guard against the attacks of alligators. In one instance an alligator, of immense size, came up to his tent, and approached within six feet of him, when he was awakened by the screaming owl. Starting up, he seized his musket, which, during the night, he always kept under his head; and the animal, alarmed by the noise, rushed again into the water.

In many places the banks of the river were ornamented with hanging garlands of various climbing vegetables, both shrubs and plants. One of these had white flowers, each as big as a small funnel, the tube five or six inches in length, and not thicker than a tobacco-pipe. It was curious to observe the wild squash, (a species of cucurbita,) which grew upon the lofty limbs of the trees: its yellow fruit, somewhat of the size and shape of a large orange, pendant over the water. In some parts there were steep cliffs on each side of the river. During the middle of the day the weather was so intensely hot, that Mr. Bartram was obliged to seek for shelter under the shade of the trees which grew upon the banks.

He passed another lake, the eastern shores of which were adorned with dark, high forests: on the north and south were apparently endless plains and meadows, embellished with islets and promontories covered with trees. Whilst he was navigating this lake, he was exposed to the most tremendous storm of thunder and lightning that he had ever witnessed. The lofty forests bent beneath the fury of the blast, and the sturdy limbs of the trees cracked under the weight of the wind. Groves were torn up; and the spreading branches of the trees were rent asunder, and, like leaves or stubble, were whirled aloft in the air. After a while the wind and rain abated. Mr. Bartram then crossed the lake, about a mile in length, and arrived in safety at a plantation near its southern extremity. Here he found that nearly all the buildings had been overturned by the hurricane; and that a hundred acres of indigo plants, almost ripe for cutting, and several acres of sugar-canes, had been ruined.

About four miles beyond this plantation, Mr. Bartram was shown a vast fountain of hot mineral water, which issued from a ridge or bank of the river, in a great cove or bay. The water, though hot and of a disagreeable brassy and vitriolic taste, and very offensive to the smell, was perfectly transparent, and exhibited to view a prodigious number of fish, and alligators, which were lying about the bottom.

Mr. Bartram now returned, in his canoe, to the station called the Upper Store. Thence, in company with five persons who had been commissioned to make some commercial arrangements with the Indians, he set out for an Indian town called Cuscowilla. For four or five miles they travelled westward, over a level plain, which, before and on each side of them, appeared like a green meadow, thinly planted with low and spreading pine-trees. The whole surface seemed clad with grass, herbage, and low shrubs, and with many kinds of plants, which were rare and highly interesting. Here also many species of birds were seen, the plumage of some of which was extremely beautiful. Snakes, lizards, and insects were also very abundant. Beyond this plain was a hill, ornamented with a great variety of herbaceous plants and grasses, and with a magnificent grove of pines. After the pine-groves were passed, the travellers entered a district called the Sand-hills.

They encamped, for the first night, at the Half-way Pond. This is a lake, about three miles in circumference, which extends, through an apparently spacious meadow, and beneath a chain of elevated sand-hills. It is inhabited by numerous kinds of fish, by alligators, and by a kind of turtles with soft shells. The latter are so large as to weigh from twenty to thirty, and even forty pounds each. They are extremely fat and delicious; but, if eaten to excess, are unwholesome. Numerous herds of deer, and extensive flocks of turkeys, frequent the vicinity of this place.

From Half-way Pond the travellers proceeded, still westward, through the high forests of Cuscowilla. The country, for five or six miles, presented nearly the same scenery as before. After this the sand-ridges became higher, and their bases proportionally more extensive. The savannahs and ponds were larger; the summits of the ridges more gravelly; and here and there rocks, formed of a sort of concrete of sand and shells, were seen above the sand and gravel.

Having passed an extensive and fruitful orange-grove, through a pine-forest, and crossed two or three streams that were tributary to the river St. John, the travellers at length came within sight of the great and beautiful Lake of Cuscowilla. Their course now lay through a magnificent forest, about nine miles in extent, and consisting of orange-groves, overtopped by grand magnolias, palm-trees, oaks, beech, and other trees. This forest bounded one edge of the lake; and, beyond it, lay the town of Cuscowilla, the place of their destination. This place is situated on the banks of a brook, which, at a little distance, falls into the lake.

They were welcomed to the town, and conducted, by a party of young men and maidens, to the house of the chief. This stood on an eminence, and was distinguished from the other dwellings by its superior magnitude, and by having a flag hoisted, on a high staff, at one corner. The chief, attended by several old men, came to them, and shook them by their hands, or rather their arms, (a form of salutation peculiar to the American Indians,) saying at the same time, "You are come." They followed him into an apartment prepared for their reception.

The following customs are practised towards their guests, by the Indians in this part of America. The pipe being filled, it is handed round to each. After this a large bowl, containing what is called "thin drink," is brought, and is set down on a low table. In the bowl is a great wooden ladle: each person takes up in the ladle as much of the liquor as he pleases; and, after drinking until he is satisfied, he returns it into the bowl, pushing the handle towards the next person in the circle; and so it goes round.

On the present occasion, after the usual compliments had passed, the principal trader informed the Indian chief, in the presence of his council or attendants, respecting the purport of their business; and with this the chief expressed his satisfaction. When the latter was informed concerning the object of Mr. Bartram's journey, he received him with complaisance; giving him unlimited permission to travel over his country, for the purpose of collecting plants, and saluting him by the name of Pug Puggy, or "Flower-hunter."

This chief was a tall, well-formed man, very affable and cheerful, about sixty years of age. His eyes were lively and full of lustre, his countenance was manly and placid, yet ferocious; his nose aquiline, and his dress extremely simple; but his head was ornamented in the manner of the Creek Indians. He had been a great warrior, and had now, attending him as slaves, many captives, which had been taken by himself when young. They were dressed better than he, and served and waited upon him with signs of the most abject humility. The manners and customs of these Indians, who are called Alachuas, and of most of the lower Creeks or Siminoles, appear evidently tinctured with Spanish civilization. There are several Christians among them, many of whom wear little silver crucifixes, affixed to a collar round their necks, or suspended by a small chain upon their breasts.

Mr. Bartram and his party had not long been here, before the repast was brought in. This consisted of venison stewed in bear's oil, of fresh corn-cakes, milk, and a dish called homony; and the drink was honey and water, very cool and agreeable.

A few days after this some negotiations took place between the traders and the Indians, in the public square or council-house. These having terminated to the satisfaction of both parties, a banquet succeeded; the ribs and choicest fat pieces of bullocks, well barbecued, were brought into an apartment of the square: bowls and kettles of stewed flesh and broth constituted the next course; and with these was brought in a dish, made of the belly or paunch of an ox, not over-cleansed of its contents, cut and minced tolerably fine, and then made into a thin kind of soup, and seasoned with salt and aromatic herbs; but the seasoning was not quite strong enough to overpower the original taste and smell. This is a favourite dish with the Indians.

Cuscowilla is the capital of the Alachua Indians; and it, at this time, contained about thirty habitations, each of which consisted of two houses, nearly of the same size, about thirty feet in length, twelve feet wide, and twelve high. Of these, one is divided into two apartments; the cook-room, or common hall, and the lodging-room. The other house is nearly of the same dimensions, and stands about twenty yards from the dwelling-house. This building is two stories high, and is constructed in a different manner from the former. Like that, it is divided across; but the end next the dwelling-house is open on three sides, and is supported by posts or columns. It has an open loft or platform, the ascent to which is by a portable stair or ladder: this is pleasant, cool, and airy; and here the master or chief of the family retires to repose, in the hot seasons, and receives his guests or visitors. The other half of this building is closed on all sides: the lowest or ground part is a potatoe-house; and the upper story a granary, for corn and other provisions.

The town of Cuscowilla stands in an extremely pleasant situation, upon a high, swelling ridge of sand-hills, within three or four hundred yards of a large and beautiful lake, which continually washes a sandy beach, under a moderately high, sloping bank; terminated on one side by extensive forests of orange-groves, and overtopped with magnolias, palms, poplars, limes, live oaks, and other trees. The ground, between the town and the lake, is adorned by an open grove of tall pine-trees, which, standing at a considerable distance from each other, admit a delightful prospect of the sparkling waters. The lake abounds with various kinds of excellent fish and wild fowl.

The inhabitants of Cuscowilla have each a small garden attached to their dwellings, for the purpose of producing corn, beans, tobacco, and other useful articles; but the plantation which supplies them with their chief vegetable provisions, is near the great Alachua savannah, and about two miles distant. This plantation has one common enclosure, and is worked and tended by the whole community: yet every family has its particular part, marked off when planted; and this portion receives the common labour and assistance, until the corn, or other articles cultivated upon it, are ripe. Each family then gathers and deposits in its store-house its own proper share, setting apart a small gift or contribution for a public granary, which stands near the centre of the plantation.

Mr. Bartram made several excursions to places in the vicinity of Cuscowilla and the Alachua Swamp. In one of these, he came to a little clump of shrubs, where he observed several large snakes, entwined together. They were each about four feet in length, and as thick as a man's wrist. Mr. Bartram approached, and endeavoured to irritate them, but they appeared perfectly harmless. Numerous herds of cattle and deer, and many troops of horses were seen peacefully browsing on the grass of the savannah, or strolling through the groves on the surrounding heights. Large flocks of wild turkeys were also observed in the woods.

At some distance from Cuscowilla, is an Indian town called Talahasochte, which Mr. Bartram some time afterwards visited. It is delightfully situated on the elevated east bank of a river called Little St. John's. The habitations were, at this time, about thirty in number, and constructed like those of Cuscowilla; but the council-house was neater and more spacious.

The Indians of this town have large and handsome canoes, which they form out of the trunks of cypress-trees: some of them are sufficiently commodious to accommodate twenty or thirty persons. In these canoes they descend the river, on trading and hunting excursions, as far as the sea-coast, to the neighbouring islands and shores; and they sometimes even cross the Gulf of Florida to the West India Islands.

In this neighbourhood are seen many singular and unaccountable cavities. These are funnel-shaped; and some of them are from twenty to forty yards across at the rim. Their perpendicular depth is, in many instances, upwards of twenty feet.

At this time, nearly the whole of East Florida, and a great portion of West Florida, were in the possession of Indians; and these chiefly a tribe called Siminoles, an apparently contented and happy race of people, who enjoyed, in superabundance, the necessaries and the conveniences of life. With the skins of deer, bears, tigers, and wolves, together with honey, wax, and other productions of their country, this people purchased, from Europeans, clothing, equipage, and domestic utensils. They seemed to be free from want or desires: they had no enemy to dread; and, apparently, nothing to occasion disquietude, except the gradual encroachments of the white people.

Mr. Bartram returned to the trading-store, on the bank of the river St. John; and, about the end of September, he reached the place from which he had commenced his voyage.

We must now proceed, across the southern states, to the mouth of the Mississippi, for the purpose of tracing the course of that astonishing river, and describing the most important places in its vicinity.

Fourteen Day's Instruction.

UNITED STATES CONTINUED

The River Mississippi

The Mississippi has its source in about forty-six degrees thirty minutes of north latitude; and terminates in the Gulf of Mexico, at some distance below the town of New Orleans. Its length, in a direct line, exceeds one thousand seven hundred miles; and it falls into the sea, by many mouths, most of which, like those of the Nile, are too shallow to be navigable. For a considerable distance, its banks are low, marshy, and covered with reeds; and are annually overflowed, from the melting of the snows in the interior of the country. The inundation usually commences in March, and continues about three months; and the slime which it deposits on the adjacent lands, tends, in a very important degree, to fertilize the soil. This river is navigable to a great distance; but, at spring-tides, the navigation is difficult, on account of the strength of the currents, and the innumerable islands, shoals, and sand-banks, with which it is interspersed. Vessels of three hundred tons burden can ascend it as high as Natchez, four hundred miles from the sea; and those of lighter burden can pass upward, as far as the Falls of St. Anthony, in latitude forty-four degrees fifty minutes.

New Orleans, the capital of the state of Louisiana, is situated on the northern bank of the Mississippi, and is a place of great commercial importance. It was founded in the year 1717, and now contains near thirty thousand inhabitants. In 1787, it had eleven hundred houses; but, nine hundred of these having been consumed by fire, it has since been rebuilt on a regular plan, and a more enlarged scale. Most of the houses are constructed with wooden frames, raised about eight feet from the ground, and have galleries round them, and cellars under the floors: almost every house has a garden.

Louisiana having, till lately, been a French colony, the French language is still predominant at New Orleans. The appearance of the people too is French; and even the negroes, by their antics and ludicrous gestures, exhibit their previous connexion with that nation. Their general manners and habits are very relaxed. Though New Orleans is now a city belonging to the United States, the markets, shops, theatre, circus, and public ball-rooms, are open on Sundays, in the same manner as they are in the catholic countries of the old continent. Gambling-houses, too, are numerous; and the coffee-houses and the Exchange are occupied, from morning till night, by gamesters. The general stile of living is luxurious. The houses are elegantly furnished; and the ladies dress in an expensive manner.

Provisions are here of bad quality, and enormously dear. Hams and cheese, from England; potatoes, butter, and beef from Ireland, are common articles of import. The rents of houses, also, are very extravagant.

The country around New Orleans is level, rich, and healthy, and has many extensive sugar-plantations. And, for the space of five leagues below, and ten above the town, the river has been embanked, to defend the adjacent fields from those inundations of the Mississippi which take place every spring. The land, adjacent to the town, yields abundant crops of rice, Indian corn, and vegetables.

There is a regular communication, by means of steam-boats and other vessels, between New Orleans and the towns on the banks of the Mississippi, the Ohio, and other rivers, in the distant parts of North America.

The scenery of the Mississippi, to the distance of one hundred and fifty miles and upwards, from New Orleans, is very uninteresting. The country is a dead flat; so that the banks of the river, and most of the adjacent grounds, are annually overflowed. In the vicinity of Natchez it becomes more varied and pleasing.