Travels Through North America, During the Years 1825 and 1826. v. 1-2

It had rained hard in the night, between the 28th and 29th of December, it rained also in the day, almost incessantly, yet this rain was mild and warm, nearly like a spring rain in Germany. There was a consultation, whether we should remain or go farther on, I determined on the latter. About nine o’clock we left our night quarters. In the vicinity thereof, the governor of the state of Georgia had built Fort Lawrence, which was evacuated, and given up at the peace. The houses, which belonged to the agency, were then built as magazines and hospitals for the troops, and arranged for a post of defence. Near the chimney, and the doors and windows, (the last without glass sashes,) were loop-holes pierced. Behind this post we passed the Flint river in an Indian ferry-boat, and found ourselves landed upon their territory. We rode twenty-eight miles farther to a lonely plantation, called Currel’s. The road ran through the worst part of the Indian lands, the woods consisted as before, of the long-leaved pine, and it was only in damp places we observed green leaves. In particular, there grew high and beautiful cane. The soil is for the most part dry sand, in strata, and particularly in the bottoms it is mixed with clay, and of a full yellow colour. The Indians have thrown bridges over two brooks with marshy shores, at each of them we paid, with great pleasure, half a dollar toll-money. The bridges are indeed not remarkably good, yet better than several in the christian state of Georgia, and even in many of the more northern states. We met but few of the Indian inhabitants; these were all wrapt up in woollen blankets. We only saw three wigwams, Indian houses, chiefly toll-houses of the bridges. They resemble the log-houses, neither are they so open as those which I saw last summer in the state of New York. The day was exceedingly uninteresting. Mr. Currel, with whom we passed the night, is a Virginian, who has settled here for the opportunity of speculating among the Indians, from whom he purchased his land at a rather cheap rate: to judge from his habits of intoxication, he has already adapted himself too much to their mode of life. His plantation buildings are, as all the rest, log huts: the wind blew to our heart’s content through the room; no lamp could burn, and we were forced to use a great hearth fire to give us light. There was no ceiling to our room, but a transparent roof of clap-boards directly over us. I was surprised to discover Shakspeare’s works in this place. In one of the out-houses there was a very good supper set before us, at which, especially, we had excellent venison.

Upon the 30th of December, after we had passed a cold night in our clap-board hut, which allowed the storm free admission, and locked our few articles of property in our chamber, from fear of the Indians sneaking about, we started before break of day, and rode a distance of thirty-three miles to Fort Mitchel. The weather was cold the whole day through, and threatened rain. The country again very uninteresting, mostly pines, a sandy soil, here and there mingled with clay: at length wood with green leaves. Only in low situations, along the rivulets, of which we passed three, was the vegetation to be admired. The laurel bushes particularly looked well. It gave me real pleasure to be able to walk in a green thicket along a brook, which I could have accomplished with difficulty in summer, since these bushes are the favourite resort of a great number of rattlesnakes. In a solitary plantation we took our breakfast; it belonged to a Mr. Colfrey, a worthy old Virginian, who had lost a considerable property, and to better his circumstances, had determined on the hard alternative of settling among the Indians. We found his plantation in a very uncommon state of order and neatness, and we were delighted by an unexpected and most excellent breakfast. Mr. Bowdoin said to the owner of the place, that he appeared as if he had not always lived thus among the savages, and never can I forget how the old man, with tears in his eyes, turned away without making an answer.

We met with several wigwams, and various temporary cabins of travelling Indians, also a number of bridges, at which we were obliged to pay the Indians toll. The country was very hilly till we came into a valley, a mile from our night quarters, through which the Chatahouchee flowed. This river empties itself into the Mexican gulf. The district, even to the left bank of the river, is rather marshy, grown up with willows, laurel, and cane. Not far from the river we beheld several buildings appointed for the popular assembly of the Indians, called the big talk. They are large and round, having a conical-formed roof, covered with tree-bark; they have walls of lime, and a covered low entrance also of lime. The Indians assemble in these buildings only in bad weather, or at night, and then a fire kindled in the middle of the house, gives light. In good weather they collect in a square place covered with sheds, under which the Indians sit down on planks protected from the sun’s heat. There is also another place for public games, and particularly for ball-playing. They appeared here also to have a species of masquerade, for we found some in a half gourd, cut through and made into a mask, with eyes and mouth cut in it, and the nose set on of a piece of wood. From the neck of the gourd, which was cut at half its length, they had made a pair of horns, and fasted them on the mask, and under this a long white beard.

We passed the river Chatahouchee at one of the ferries belonging to the Indians, and kept in order by them. The right bank is somewhat steep, of red earth, which, from the violent rain, had become slippery. Half a mile from the ferry brought us to Fort Mitchel. It stood upon a height, and was situated to the right of us. We dismounted not far from this, between Indian wigwams at Crowell’s tavern. The host was a brother of the Indian agent. This house has also a plantation attached to it, as the one above-mentioned had. Colonel Wool and I were lodged in an airy out-house of clap-boards, without a ceiling, and windows without glass. We were accommodated with freer circulation than would have fallen to our lot in a German barn. Four companies of the fourth regiment of infantry, the staff of which was fixed at Pensacola, lay in garrison at the fort. The commandant, Major Donoho, and his officers had taken board at Crowell’s tavern; in the evening we made acquaintance with them. The most of these officers, pupils of the school at West Point, were men of information, and we passed the remainder of the evening much pleased with their society.

We made the 31st of December a day of rest, as Colonel Wool had to inspect the garrison of the fort. The four companies here stationed form properly the garrison of Pensacola, and were only sent here last summer during the contest between Georgia and the United States, to protect the Creeks against the encroachments of that State. It openly wishes to take possession of the Indian territory to the Chatahouchee, to which river, agreeable to the charter, Georgia extends. The right bank of the river, on which we now found ourselves, is in the jurisdiction of the State of Alabama. The troops arriving, at first encamped here, but immediately commenced building a new but smaller fort, on the spot where Fort Mitchell stands, so called in honour of the then governor of Georgia, which they now occupy. They hoped, however, that they should return to Pensacola as soon as the disagreements had been settled.

After the inspection, we took a walk to a plantation lying near, which belonged to an Indian named M‘Intosh. He was absent at Washington as a delegate from his nation. He is the son of that M‘Intosh, who obtained from the State of Georgia the title of General, and who last spring, on account of the treaty with the state, had been shot by his countrymen and hewed in pieces. Polygamy prevails among the Indians. The young M‘Intosh had indeed only two wives, a white woman and an Indian. They say he had several wives whom he wished to keep: the white woman however had driven them with scolding and disgrace out of the house, as she would only submit to one Indian rival. We did not see the Indian wife. The white wife, however, received us quite politely. She is the daughter of a planter in Georgia, and tolerably pretty. She was attired in the European style, only according to the Indian fancy in dress, she carried a quantity of glass beads about her neck. She showed us her two children, completely white, and also the portrait of her father-in-law, as large as life, with the sword of honour given him by the United States. The family is in very good circumstances, and possesses seventy negroes.

In the afternoon we went to a Methodist mission, one short mile distant. We found none but the women at home. The missionaries have established a school, which is frequented by thirty children. They have three Indian girls, boarders, who were extremely modest. The mission is situated in a handsome plantation, on which I saw tame deer. The deer here are evidently smaller than those in Europe.

Sunday, the 1st of January, 1826, we were awakened by the drums and fifes, which announced the new year, by playing Hail Columbia and Yankee Doodle. With the break of day, between seven and eight o’clock, we left Fort Mitchel, and rode twenty-five miles to a plantation called Lewis’s, which is located on the spot, upon which, in the last war, Fort Bainbridge stood. The road ran through a very hilly country. At first the soil was sandy and poor, it bore nothing but pine trees. After we had passed over half the distance, the soil improved, it looked reddish-yellow, and the apparently everlasting pines gave place to handsome oaks and lofty hickories. On the other hand the carriage road became very bad, and in a narrow place we upset. The carriage fell slowly towards my side, I took the right moment, sprung from the box on which I sat, and fell upon my feet. This was the eighth time I had been overturned, and never did I escape so cheap as on this occasion. As none of the other gentlemen were injured, we could happily laugh at our accident. The carriage was somewhat damaged, and since we were only four miles distant from Lewis’s, and had very fine weather, a true spring day, with clear dark-blue sky, we went the rest of the way on foot.

We passed several wigwams and temporary Indian huts, in which the men lived with the hogs, and lay around the fire with them. A hut of this description is open in front, behind it is closed with pieces of wood and bark. The residents live on roasted venison and Indian corn. The hides of the deer, and even of cattle, they stretch out to dry in the sun, and then sell them. At one hut, covered with cane leaves, there was venison roasting, and bacon smoking. The venison is cut in pieces, and spitted on a cane stalk, many such stalks lie upon two blocks near each other. Under these the fire is kindled, and the stalk continually turned round, till the flesh is dried through. Upon this is laid a hurdle made of cane which rests on four posts. To this are all the large pieces suspended. The hams of bacon are laid upon the hurdle so that the smoke may draw through them.

The grass in many parts of the woods was in a blaze, and many pine trees were burning. We crossed two small streams, the Great and Little Uchee, on tolerable wooden bridges. Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon we reached Lewis’s, a handsome house, the best that we had found in the Indian territory. We took here an excellent dinner. We ate daily of the best of venison. In Fort Mitchel we had eaten partridges, of which the officers in one day took fifty-seven in the morning, and forty-six in the evening, in their nets. For the singularity of the thing, I will notice our dinner of to-day, that the inquisitive reader may observe that one is in no danger of hunger on the lands of the Indians: soup of turnips, roast-beef, a roast-turkey, venison with a kind of sour sauce, roast-chickens, and pork with sweet potatoes.

On the 2d of January we rode thirty-one miles to Walker’s, also a solitary plantation. The country hilly, the road bad to such a degree that we could only creep along in the most tedious manner, and were obliged to proceed on foot very often. The wood on the other hand grew better and better, and consisted, besides the pines, of handsome oaks, and various sorts of nut-bearing trees, mostly hickories: the soil, for the most part, of a reddish yellow. In several marshy places, and on the banks of rivulets, we saw again the evergreen trees and bushes, and in a swamp nearly a mile long, through which a causeway ran, some magnolia grandiflora which were at least sixty feet high. I also saw here again several trees, which first forming one trunk, four or five feet above the ground, divided themselves into two trunks, and then shot up into the air one hundred feet. In the north-western part of the state of New York, I have seen trees which ran up in five, six, and even seven trunks. Over a stream with marshy banks, a bridge was thrown, three hundred and eleven paces long: the view which I took from this bridge of the luxuriant exotic vegetation which surrounded me, exhibited, as I thought, the original of the sketches of the Brazilian forests in the travels of the Prince Nieuwied. The beautiful day, the cloudless dark-blue sky, also introduced by him, were recalled to me by this picture. But when I observed upon the trees the hateful Spanish moss, I was reminded that I was in the neighbourhood of Columbia and Charleston, and that it was a token of unwholesome air. In the swamps I noticed several plants which were known to me from hot-house cultivation, but unfortunately I cannot recall their names.

The country is comparatively populously inhabited by Indians. They live partly in wigwams, partly in bark cabins. Before one of these huts, or cabins, hung a skinned otter, upon which they seemed preparing to make a meal. The Indians roast their maize on the naked coals, then they throw it into a cavity made in a trunk of a tree, and pound it with a stick of wood into a sort of coarse meal. I bought a species of nuts, which were roasted, ground-nuts, and amused myself with the propensity to thievery a young Indian displayed. As I was putting the nuts in my pocket, one or more would drop, instantly the young fellow would step forward, as if by accident, set his foot on the nut, take it between his toes, and move off. We passed through a tolerably cleared, fenced, and built district, in which several negro quarters of a decent appearance were scattered about. This plantation belonged to a chief, one of the principal of the Creeks, called the Big Warrior, who owns above three hundred negroes, whose wooden dwelling-house stands in the centre of his property. He is now at Washington, as one of the deputies of his nation. We came over another cleared spot, where the Indians were routed in the last war by the Georgia militia under General Floyd.

Not far from this place, we noticed a number of Indians collected in the neighbourhood of a plantation. We left our carriage to inquire into the cause of it. There had been a horse race of middling unsightly horses: the festival was, however, ended, and the meeting was on the point of breaking up. A white planter who was there, conducted us to the son of the Big Warrior. He was himself a chief, and possessed a high reputation, as was said amongst those of the nation. He sat upon a felled tree between two inferior chiefs. His dress was a tunic of flowered, clear blue calico, a piece of the same stuff was wrapped round his head like a turban. He wore richly ornamented leather leggings set with glass beads, and mocassins, and had an equally ornamented hunting pouch hung around him. Moderately fat, and of a great stature, he appeared to be about thirty years old. He had mustaches like all his countrymen. I was introduced to him, and shook hands with him. The conversation was very trifling and short. It took place through an interpreter who appeared to be a dismissed soldier. This creature caused the chief to rise when we commenced speaking to him; when I begged him to remain sitting, he reseated himself mechanically. He directed no questions to me, and answered mine with yes and no. To the question, whether he knew any thing of the country of which I was a native, he answered by a shake of the head. He looked no more at me. Several Indians wore their hair in a singular style; it was shorn on both sides of the head, and the middle, from the neck over to the forehead, stood up like a cock’s comb. Seen from behind, they appeared as if they wore a helmet. Quite small boys practised themselves already in shooting with a little bow. I attempted to joke with a little fellow, three years old, but he took the jest in bad part, and threatened me with his bow.

After sunset, towards six o’clock in the evening, we reached Walker’s, and found a good reception in a large log-house, each of us had a separate chamber. The landlord was a captain of infantry in the United States’ service formerly, and had, as our host of yesterday, an Indian wife.

On the following day we rode to Montgomery, twenty-five miles distant. The road was in the beginning bad, afterwards, however, really good. We crossed a bridge over a stream one hundred paces long, and were then obliged to toil over a long, wretched causeway. The vegetation was again exceedingly luxuriant, it was remarkably beautiful on the banks of Line Creek, a little river, which forms the boundary between the Indian territory and the state of Alabama, eight miles from Walker’s. Very lofty live oaks, and oaks of other descriptions, several magnolias, and amongst them, a particularly handsome and lofty macrophylla.

As we entered upon the territory of Alabama, we soon observed that we were upon a much better soil. It was darker, much wood was removed, and signs of cultivation every where. Upon several plantations, the cotton fields exhibited themselves in beautiful order; the log houses were only employed as negro cabins; the mansion-houses, two stories high, are for the most part painted white, and provided with piazzas and balconies. At most of them the cotton gins and presses were at work. The planters had not finished the whole of their crop, on account of the unusual drought. The Alabama river was so low that the steam-boats had not been able for several weeks to pass from Mobile to Montgomery. This place had therefore, for a length of time, suffered for the want of the most necessary supplies, which are drawn from Mobile; fifteen dollars had been asked for one bushel of salt. We met several caravans of emigrants from the eastern part of Georgia, who were on their way to Butler county, Alabama, to settle themselves on land which they had purchased very cheap from the United States. The number of their negroes, wagons, horses, and cattle, showed that these emigrants were in easy circumstances. On account of the bad road, we went at first a good deal on foot; at one of the creeks, the carriage passed through the ford, and we footmen crossed over on one of the simplest bridges in the world, namely, a felled pine tree of great size. We arrived at Montgomery about two o’clock. In the night it had frozen, but the day had solaced us with the warmth of spring.

Montgomery lies on the Alabama river, a navigable stream, which rises about two hundred and twenty miles above this place, and after it has joined itself to the Tombigbee, empties into the Mexican gulf, below Mobile. The town contains about one thousand two hundred inhabitants, of both complexions. It has two streets, which are very broad, tolerably good houses, one, not yet finished, of brick, which material is very bad here. This place was first laid out about five years ago, and has already a very lively appearance. On the bank of the river, they were employed in loading two steam-boats with cotton bales, as, within a few days, the river had risen five feet, and the navigation was once more carried on with animation.

The journey by water from Montgomery to Mobile, is four hundred miles, and as we intended to go this way, we took a look at the two steam-boats lying here, the Steubenville and Hornet, bound for Mobile. We chose the Steubenville, which gave out to start on the next day. The construction of both these boats, and their arrangement, was far inferior to that of the steam-boats in the north: every thing was coarser, and displayed the difference between the civilization of the two different sections of the union. This town is so new, that the original forest still stands between the houses. In a street there was a well digging; I discovered by this that the earth was exceedingly well adapted to brick-making, and that an industrious man, who should establish a kiln here, must make a handsome profit on the business. The bricks which they sell here at ten dollars a thousand, are scandalous. Of the inhabitants I heard nothing commendable: and how can this young town, whose situation, at least in summer, is unhealthy, have a fixed character; how can it attain a high degree of cultivation? All come here for the purpose of amassing property, or are driven here by the prostration of their fortunes, in their old residence!

CHAPTER XVII

Journey from Montgomery, on the Alabama river, to Mobile, and residence in that city

The Steubenville, commanded by Captain Grover, is of one hundred and seventy tons, and has a high pressure machine, of fifty horse-power. Machines like these are very dangerous, and therefore prohibited in the Netherlands. The machine of the Steubenville was made in Pittsburg. The body of the boat is occupied by the cargo, the cabins are upon deck. The dining-room had twelve births; behind this is a gallery with some apartments; the last one was hired by us. Before we sailed, two Indians came on board, who wondered very much at my double barrelled gun, with percussion locks; they had never seen such fire-arms before; I permitted them to discharge it, and gave them some of the copper caps, at which present they testified great delight.

We went down the river very swiftly, sixteen miles an hour. The banks of the river near Montgomery are rather high, they consist of red earth, with many spots of flint, and covered with willow-growth. We came only a distance of eighteen miles, to a place called Washington, where the Hornet lay, and where we also were stopped, to remain during the night for the purpose of taking in wood and cotton. On account of the number of sand banks, the navigation of the river must be dangerous; the captain assured me that the experienced pilot then on board, had one hundred dollars per month pay, so seldom are the officers of the boats here, accustomed to the localities!

The next morning we moved on at break of day, with considerable rapidity; but we soon stopped again, to take in some cotton bales, which lay ready in a wood on the shore. We had above four hundred bales already on board. The hold of the boat was full, the space between the machine and the first cabin was filled, as well as the space about the cabins, and the roof over them. There was no room left for exercise in walking, and in the cabin it was very dark. The first delay lasted about an hour; as soon as we were in motion again, we were obliged to stop for several hours, as one of the two pipes fell, and drew the other with it. The steward standing near, was wounded. We pursued our journey about midday, and laid by again towards sunset to take in wood, and remain for the night, as the water in the river had fallen, and the sand banks were numerous in this vicinity.

We went on shore to look about, and found ourselves near to a plantation with extensive cotton fields, a cotton gin, and a large cotton press. There is a vast quantity of cotton seed left, more than is required for the next year’s planting, and the overplus is used for manure. I am well convinced, that with a small trouble and little expense, a very good oil could be expressed from this seed. It was thrown out in great heaps, which contained so much heat, that it was impossible to keep my hand in it a moment. The breadth of the river is here said to be three hundred yards, but I cannot believe it to be so much. The right bank may be about sixty feet high, it rests partly on sandstone, and consists of many layers of soil; the left bank is lower. Both are grown up with wood, close to the water’s edge with willows, and farther back with different sorts of trees; lofty oaks, live oaks, and white oaks, which only flourish in the south, with plane trees, hickories, and other nut-bearing trees, here and there with beech, ash, and alder, and also with tall green cane. If it were not so warm and unhealthy during the summer, a residence here would be delightful. We saw upon the river many flocks of wild geese and ducks, and upon the shore several buzzards. The river makes a number of turns, and contains several islands; yet the most of them are merely sand banks. Upon them lie fallen trees, of which passing vessels must take great care. On the banks were canoes, which, in the Indian fashion, were hewed out of a single tree.