"No leave take I, for I will ride
As far as land will let me."
"The long sunny lapse of a summer's daylight."
"What fool is this!"
_As You Like It._
Among that novel variety of feature which the perspicacity of European
tourists in America has enabled them to detect of Cis-atlantic
character, two traits seem ever to stand forth in striking relief, and
are dwelt upon with very evident satisfaction: I allude to Avarice and
Curiosity. Upon the former of these characteristics it is not my
purpose to comment; though one can hardly have been a traveller, in
any acceptation of the term, or in almost any section of our land,
without having arrived at a pretty decided opinion upon the subject.
Curiosity, {102} however, it will not, I am persuaded, be denied,
_does_ constitute a feature, and no inconsiderable one, in our
national character; nor would it, perhaps, prove a difficult task to
lay the finger upon those precise circumstances in our origin and
history as a people which have tended to superinduce a trait of this
kind--a trait so disgusting in its ultra development; and yet, in its
ultimate nature, so indispensably the mainspring of everything
efficient in mind. "_Low vice_," as the author of Childe Harold has
been pleased to stigmatize it; yet upon this single propellant may, in
retrospect, be predicated the cause of more that contributes to man's
happiness than perhaps upon any other. _Frailty of a little mind_, as
it _may_ be, and is often deemed; yet not the less true is it that the
omnipotent workings of this passion have ever been, and must, until
the nature of the human mind is radically changed, continue to remain,
at once the necessary concomitant and the essential element of a
vigorous understanding. If it be, then, indeed true, as writers and
critics beyond the waters would fain have us believe, that American
national character is thus compounded, so far from blushing at the
discovery, we would hail it as a leading cause of our unparalleled
advancement as a people in the time past, and as an unerring omen of
progression in future.
My pen has been insensibly betrayed into these remarks in view of a
series of incidents which, during my few months rambling, have from
time to time transpired; and which, while they illustrate forcibly to
my mind the position I have assumed, {103} have also demonstrated
conclusively the minor consideration, that the passion, in all its
_phenomena_, is by no means, as some would have us believe, restricted
to any one portion of our land; that it _is_, in verity, a
characteristic of the entire Anglo-American race! Thus much for _sage
forensic_ upon "that low vice, curiosity."
My last number left me luxuriating, with all the gusto of an amateur
prairie-wolf fresh from his starving lair, upon the _fat_ and _honey_
of Illinois. During these blessed moments of trencher devotion,
several inmates of the little cabin whose hospitality I was enjoying,
who had been labouring in the field, successively made their
appearance; and to each individual in turn was the traveller handed
over, like a bale of suspected contraband merchandise, for
supervision. The interrogatories of each were quite the same,
embracing name and nativity, occupation, location, and destination,
administered with all the formal exactitude of a county-court lawyer.
With the inquiries of none, however, was I more amused than with those
of a little corpulent old fellow ycleped "Uncle Bill," with a
proboscis of exceeding rubicundity, and eyes red as a weasel's, to say
nothing of a voice melodious in note as an asthmatic clarionet. The
curiosity of the Northern Yankee is, in all conscience, unconscionable
enough when aroused; but, for the genuine quintessence of
inquisitiveness, commend your enemy, if you have one, to an army of
starving gallinippers, or to a backwoods' family of the Far West, who
see a traveller twice a year, and don't take the newspaper! Now {104}
mark me, reader! I mention this not as a _fault_ of the worthy
"Suckers:"[204] it is rather a misfortune; or, if otherwise, it
surely "leans to virtue's side." A _peculiarity_, nevertheless, it
certainly is; and a striking one to the stranger. Inquiries are
constantly made with most unblushing effrontery, which, under ordinary
circumstances, would be deemed but a single remove from insult, but at
which, under those to which I refer, a man of sense would not for a
moment take exception. It is _true_, as some one somewhere has said,
that a degree of inquisitiveness which in the more crowded walks of
life would be called impertinent, is perfectly allowable in the
wilderness; and nothing is more conceivable than desire for its
gratification. As to the people of Illinois, gathered as they are from
every "kindred, and nation, and tribe, and language under heaven,"
there are traits of character among them which one could wish
universally possessed. Kind, hospitable, open-hearted, and confiding
have I ever found them, whether in the lonely log cabin of the prairie
or in the overflowing settlement; and some noble spirits _I_ have met
whose presence would honour any community or people.
After my humble but delicious meal was concluded, mine host, a tall,
well-proportioned, sinewy young fellow, taking down his rifle from the
_beckets_ in which it was reposing over the rude mantel, very civilly
requested me to accompany him on a hunting ramble of a few hours in
the vicinity for deer. Having but a short evening ride before me, I
readily consented; and, leaving the cabin, we strolled {105} leisurely
through the shady woods, along the banks of the creek I have
mentioned, for several miles; but, though indications of deer were
abundant, without success. We were again returning to the hut, which
was now in sight on the prairie's edge, when, in the middle of a
remark upon the propriety of "_disposing of a part of his extensive
farm_," the rifle of my companion was suddenly brought to his eye; a
sharp crack, and a beautiful doe, which the moment before was
bounding over the nodding wild-weeds like the summer wind, lay gasping
at our feet.
So agreeable did I find my youthful hunter, that I was wellnigh
complying with his request to "tarry with him yet a few days," and try
my own hand and eye, all unskilled though they be, in _gentle
venerie_; or, at the least, to taste a steak from the fine fat doe.
_Sed fugit, interea fugit, irreparabile tempus_; and when the shades
of evening were beginning to gather over the landscape, I had passed
over a prairie some eight miles in breadth; and, chilled and
uncomfortable from the drenching of a heavy shower, was entering the
village of Shelbyville through the trees.[205]
This is a pleasant little town enough, situated on the west bank of
the Kaskaskia River, in a high and heavily-timbered tract. It is the
seat of justice for the county from which it takes its name, which
circumstance is fearfully portended by a ragged, bleak-looking
structure called a courthouse. Its shattered windows, and flapping
doors, and weather-stained bricks, when associated with the object to
which it is appropriated, perched up as it is in the {106} centre of
the village, reminds one of a cornfield scarecrow, performing its duty
by looking as hideous as possible. _In terrorem_, in sooth. Dame
Justice seems indeed to have met with most shameful treatment all over
the West, through her legitimate representative the courthouse. The
most interesting object in the vicinity of Shelbyville is a huge
sulphur-spring, which I did not tarry long enough to visit.
"Will you be pleased, sir, to register your name?" was the modest
request of mine host, as, having _settled the bill_, with foot in
stirrup, I was about mounting my steed at the door of the little
hostlerie of Shelbyville the morning after my arrival. Tortured by
the pangs of a curiosity which it was quite evident must now or never
be gratified, he had pursued his guest _beyond the threshold_ with
this _dernier resort_ to elicit _a_ name and residence. "Register my
name, sir!" was the reply. "And pray, let me ask, where do you intend
that desirable operation to be performed?" The discomfited publican,
with an expression of ludicrous dismay, hastily retreating to the
bar-room, soon reappeared gallanting a mysterious-looking little
blue-book, with "Register" in ominous characters portrayed upon the
back thereof. _A_ name was accordingly soon despatched with a pencil,
beneath about a dozen others, which the honest man had probably
managed to _save_ in as many years; and, applying the spur, the last
glance of the traveller caught the eager features of his host poring
over this new accession to his treasure.
{107} The early air of morning was intensely chilling as I left the
village and pursued my solitary way through the old woods; but, as the
sun went up the heavens, and the path emerged upon the open prairie,
the transition was astonishing. The effect of emerging from the dusky
shades of a thick wood upon a prairie on a summer day is delightful
and peculiar. I have often remarked it. It impresses one like passing
from the damp, gloomy closeness of a cavern into the genial sunshine
of a flower-garden. For the first time during my tour in Illinois was
my horse now severely troubled by that terrible insect, so notorious
all over the West, the large green-bottle prairie-fly, called the
"green-head." My attention was first attracted to it by observing
several gouts of fresh blood upon the rein; and, glancing at my
horse's neck, my surprise was great at beholding an orifice quite as
large as that produced by the _fleam_ from which the dark fluid was
freely streaming. The instant one of these fearful insects plants
itself upon a horse's body, the rider is made aware of the
circumstance by a peculiar restlessness of the animal in every limb,
which soon becomes a perfect agony, while the sweat flows forth at
every pore. The last year[206] was a remarkable one for countless
swarms of these flies; many animals were _killed_ by them; and at one
season it was even dangerous to venture across the broader prairies
except before sunrise or after nightfall. In the early settlement of
the county, these insects were so troublesome as in {108} a great
measure to retard the cultivation of the prairies; but, within a few
years, a yellow insect larger than the "green-head" has made its
appearance wherever the latter was found, and, from its sweeping
destruction of the annoying fly, has been called the "horse-guard."
These form burrows by penetrating the earth to some depth, and there
depositing the slaughtered "green-heads." It is stated that animals
become so well aware of the relief afforded by these insects and of
their presence, that the traveller recognises their arrival at once by
the quiet tranquillity which succeeds the former agitation. Ploughing
upon the prairies was formerly much delayed by these insects, and
heavy netting was requisite for the protection of the oxen.
At an inconsiderable settlement called _Cold Spring_, after a ride of
a dozen miles, I drew up my horse for refreshment.[207] My host, a
venerable old gentleman, with brows silvered over by the frosts of
sixty winters, from some circumstance unaccountable, presumed his
guest a political circuit-rider, and arranged his remarks accordingly.
The old man's politics were, however, not a little musty. Henry Clay
was spoken of rather as a young aspirant for distinction, just
stepping upon the arena of public life, than as the aged statesman
about resigning "the seals of office," and, hoary with honour,
withdrawing from the world. Nathless, much pleased was I with my host.
He was a native of Connecticut, and twenty years had seen him a
resident in "the Valley."
Resuming my route, the path conducted through {109} a high wood, and
for the first time since my departure from New-England was my ear
charmed by the sweet, melancholy note of the robin, beautiful songster
of my own native North. A wanderer can hardly describe his emotions on
an occurrence like this. The ornithology of the West, so far as a
limited acquaintance will warrant assertion, embraces many of the most
magnificent of the feathered creation. Here is found the jay, in gold
and azure, most splendid bird of the forest; here the woodpecker, with
flaming crest and snowy capote; the redbird; the cardinal grosbeak,
with his mellow whistle, gorgeous in crimson dies; the bluebird,
delicate as an iris; the mockbird, unrivalled chorister of our land;
the thrush; the wishton-wish; the plaintive whippoorwill; and last,
yet not the least, the turtle-dove, with her flutelike moaning. How
often, on my solitary path, when all was still through the grove, and
heaven's own breathings for a season seemed hushed, have I reined up
my horse, and, with feelings not to be described, listened to the
redundant pathos of that beautiful woodnote swelling on the air! Paley
has somewhere[208] told us, that by nothing has he been so touchingly
reminded of the benevolence of Deity as by the quiet happiness of the
infant on its mother's breast. To myself there is naught in all
Nature's beautiful circle which speaks a richer eloquence of praise
to the goodness of our God than the gushing joyousness of the
forest-bird!
All day I continued my journey over hill and {110} dale, creek and
ravine, woodland and prairie, until, near sunset, I reined up my weary
animal to rest a while beneath the shade of a broad-boughed oak by the
wayside, of whose refreshing hospitality an emigrant, with wagon and
family, had already availed himself. The leader of the caravan, rather
a young man, was reclining upon the bank, and, according to his own
account, none the better for an extra dram. From a few remarks which
were elicited from him, I soon discovered--what I had suspected, but
which he at first had seemed doggedly intent upon concealing--that he
belonged to that singular sect to which I have before alluded, styling
themselves Mormonites, and that he was even then on his way to Mount
Zion, Jackson county, Mo.! By contriving to throw into my observations
a few of those tenets of the sect which, during my wanderings, I had
gathered up, the worthy Mormonite was soon persuaded--pardon my
insincerity, reader--that he had stumbled upon a veritable brother;
and, without reserve or mental reservation, laid open to my
cognizance, as we journeyed along, "the reasons of the faith that was
in him," and the ultimate, proximate, and intermediate designs of the
_party_. And such a chaotic fanfaronade of nonsense, absurdity, nay,
madness, was an idle curiosity never before punished with. The most
which could be gathered of any possible "_account_" from this
confused, disconnected mass of rubbish, was the following: That Joe
Smith, or Joe Smith's father, or the devil, or some other great
personage, had somewhere dug up the golden {111} plates upon which
were graven the "Book of Mormon:" that this all-mysterious and
much-to-be-admired book embraced the chronicles of the lost kings of
Israel: that it derived its cognomen from one Mormon, its principal
hero, son of Lot's daughter, king of the Moabites: that Christ was
crucified on the spot where Adam was interred: that the descendants of
Cain were all now under the curse, and no one could possibly designate
who they were: that the Saviour was about to descend in Jackson
county, Missouri; the millennium was dawning, and that all who were
not baptized by Joe Smith or his compeers, and forthwith repaired to
Mount Zion, Missouri, aforesaid, would assuredly be cut off, and that
without remedy. These may, perhaps, serve as a specimen of a host of
wild absurdities which fell from the lips of my Mormonite; but, the
instant argument upon any point was pressed, away was he a thousand
miles into the fields of mysticism; or he laid an immediate embargo on
farther proceedings by a barefaced _petitio principii_ on the faith of
the golden plates; or by asserting that the stranger knew more upon
the matter than he! At length the stranger, coming to the conclusion
that he could at least boast as _much_ of Mormonism, he spurred up,
and left the man still jogging onward, to Mount Zion. And yet, reader,
with all his nonsense, my Mormonite was by no means an ignorant
fanatic. He was a native of Virginia, and for fifteen years had been a
pedagogue west of the Blue Ridge, from which edifying profession he
had at length been {112} enticed by the eloquence of sundry preachers
who had held forth in his schoolhouse. Thereupon taking to himself a
brace of wives and two or three braces of children by way of stock in
trade for the community at Mount Zion, and having likewise taken to
himself a one-horse wagon, into which were bestowed the moveables, not
forgetting a certain big-bellied stone bottle which hung ominously
dangling in the rear; I say, having done this, and having, moreover,
pressed into service a certain raw-boned, unhappy-looking horse, and a
certain fat, happy-looking cow, which was driven along beside the
wagon, away started he all agog for the promised land.
The grand tabernacle of these fanatics is said to be at a place they
call _Kirtland_, upon the shores of Lake Erie, some twenty miles from
Cleveland, and numbers no less than four thousand persons. Their
leader is Joe Smith, and associated with him is a certain shrewd
genius named Sydney Rigdom, a quondam preacher of the doctrine of
Campbell.[209] Under the control of these worthies as president and
cashier, a banking-house was established, which issued about $150,000,
and then deceased. The private residences are small, but the temple
is said to be an elegant structure of stone, three stories in height,
and nearly square in form. Each of its principal apartments is
calculated to contain twelve hundred persons, and has six pulpits
arranged gradatim, three at each extremity of the "Aaronic
priesthood," and in the same manner with the "priesthood of
Melchisedek." The {113} slips are so constructed as to permit the
audience to face either pulpit at pleasure. In the highest seat of the
"Aaronic priesthood" sits the venerable sire of the prophet, and below
sit his hopeful Joe and Joe's prime minister, Sydney Rigdom. The attic
of the temple is occupied for schoolrooms, five in number, where a
large number of students are taught the various branches of the
English, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages. The estimated cost of
this building is $60,000.[210] Smith is represented as a quiet,
placid-seeming knave, with passionless features, perfectly composed in
the midst of his heterogeneous multitude of dupes. Rigdom, on the
contrary, has a face full of fire, a fine tenour voice, and a mild and
persuasive eloquence of speech. Many of their followers are said to be
excellent men. The circumstances of the origin, rise, and progress of
this singular sect have been given to the public by the pen of an
eccentric but polished writer, and there is nothing material to add.
The close of the day found me once more upon the banks of the
Kaskaskia; and early on the succeeding morning, fording the stream, I
pursued my route along the great national road towards Terre Haute.
This road is projected eighty feet in breadth, with a central
carriage-path of thirty feet, elevated above all standing water, and
in no instance to exceed three degrees from a perfect level. The work
has been commenced along the whole {114} line, and is under various
stages of advancement; for most of the way it is perfectly _direct_.
The bridges are to be of limestone, and of massive structure, the base
of the abutments being equal in depth to one third their altitude. The
work was for a while suspended, for the purpose of investigating
former operations, and subsequently through failure of an
appropriation from Congress; but a grant has since been voted
sufficient to complete the undertaking so far as it is now
projected.[211] West of Vandalia the route is not yet located, though
repeated surveys with reference to this object have been made. St.
Louis, Alton, Beardstown, and divers other places upon the Mississippi
and its branches present claims to become the favoured point of its
destination. Upon this road I journeyed some miles; and, even in its
present unfinished condition, it gives evidence of its enormous
character. Compare this grand national work with the crumbling relics
of the mound-builders scattered over the land, and remark the
contrast: yet how, think you, reader, would an hundred thousand men
regard an undertaking like this?
My route at length, to my regret, struck off at right angles from the
road, and for many a mile wound away among woods and creeks. As I rode
along through the country I was somewhat surprised at meeting people
from various quarters, who seemed to be gathering to some rendezvous,
all armed with rifles, and with the paraphernalia of hunting suspended
from their shoulders. At length, near noon, I passed a log-cabin,
around which {115} were assembled about a hundred men: and, upon
inquiry, learned that they had come together for the purpose of
"shooting a beeve,"[212] as the marksmen have it. The regulations I
found to be chiefly these: A bull's-eye, with a centre nail, stands
at a distance variously of from forty to seventy yards; and those five
who, at the close of the contest, have most frequently _driven the
nail_, are entitled to a fat ox divided into five portions. Many of
the marksmen in the vicinity, I was informed, could drive the nail
twice out of every three trials. Reluctantly I was forced to decline a
civil invitation to join the party, and to leave before the sport
commenced; but, jogging leisurely along through a beautiful region of
prairie and woodland interspersed, I reached near nightfall the
village of Salem.[213] This place, with its dark, weather-beaten
edifices, forcibly recalled to my mind one of those gloomy little
seaports sprinkled along the iron-bound coast of New-England, over
some of which the ocean-storm has roared and the ocean-eagle shrieked
for more than two centuries. The town is situated on the eastern
border of the Grand Prairie, upon the stage-route from St. Louis to
Vincennes; and, as approached from one quarter, is completely
concealed by a bold promontory of timber springing into the plain. It
is a quiet, innocent, gossiping little place as ever was, no doubt;
never did any harm in all its life, and probably never will do any.
This sage conclusion is predicated upon certain items gathered at the
village singing-school; at which, ever-notable place, the traveller,
agreeable to invitation {116} attended, and carolled away most
vehemently with about a dozen others of either sex, under the
cognizance of a certain worthy personage styled _the Major_, whose
vocation seemed to be to wander over these parts for the purpose of
"_building up_" the good people in psalmody. To say that I was not
more surprised than delighted with the fruits of the honest songster's
efforts in Salem, and that I was, moreover, marvellously edified by
the brisk airs of the "Missouri Harmony," from whose cheerful pages
operations were performed, surely need not be done; therefore, prithee
reader, question me not.
_Mt. Vernon, Ill._