raccoon with our men that he scarcely took any notice of us. We went
to head-quarters; there was but little ceremony. When we were shown
into the commander's presence, I stepped toward him a little in
advance of my friends, and announced my name. I was most cordially and
familiarly received. Then I introduced my friends, mentioning their
respective places of residence. After a little conversation, we rose
to retire, when the commandant advanced near me, and politely asked me
to dine with him an hour after twelve o'clock, and bring my
accompanying friends with me. I turned to the gentlemen for their
concurrence, which they gave, when we all returned to our boats.
I then observed to my friends that the commandant would expect some
present from us--such was the custom--and what should it be? Mr.
Bayard, I believe, asked me to suggest some thing in our power to
tender. I then remarked, that, as we had a plenty of good hams, that
we fill a barrel, and send them to our host; that they might prove as
acceptable as any thing. The proposition met the approval of all, and
the hams were accordingly sent at once, with perhaps an accompanying
note.
At one hour after twelve o'clock, I well remember, we found ourselves
comfortably seated at the hospitable board of the Spanish commandant,
who expressed much delight at receiving our fine present. He gave us
an elegant dinner in the Spanish style, and plenty of good wine and
liquors, and coffee without cream. The commandant, addressing me,
while we were indulging in the liquids before us, said that we must
drink to the health of the ladies in our sweet liquors. "So," said he,
"we will drink the health of the Misses Forman"--my worthy cousins,
who had preceded us in a visit to this garrison.
After dinner, the commandant invited us to take a walk in the fine
prairies. He said he could drive a coach-and-four through these open
woods to St. Louis. There came up a thunder-storm and sharp lightning,
and he asked me what I called that in English, and I told him, when he
pleasantly observed: "You learn me to talk English, and I will learn
you French." Returning to head-quarters, we took tea, and then got up
to take our final leave. "O, no!" said he, "I can't spare you,
gentlemen. I'm all alone. Please to come to-morrow, one hour after
twelve, and dine again with me." So, at the appointed time, we were on
hand again. The same kind hospitality was accorded us as on the
preceding day.
In the evening, we thought we should surely tender the last farewell.
But no; we must come again, for the third day, to enjoy his good
company and delightful viands. That evening, there was a Spanish
dance, all common people making up the company--French, Canadians,
Spaniards, Americans. The belle of the room was Cherokee Katy, a
beautiful little squaw, dressed in Spanish style, with a turban on her
head, and decked off very handsomely. On these occasions, a king and
queen were chosen to be sovereigns for the next meeting. The
commandant was asked to honor them by taking a partner, and sharing in
the mazy dance, which, of course, he declined; and we also had an
invitation, but declined also. The commandant said he always went to
these happy gatherings, and sat a little while, and once, he added, he
played a little while on his own violin, for his own and their
amusement.
He expressed much regret at parting with us. He said he was so
lonesome. He was a man not over thirty, I suppose, highly
accomplished, and spoke pretty good English. I fear he was, in after
years, swallowed up in the earthquake,[16] which destroyed many; among
them, I believe, a Mr. Morris, who was a brother to Mrs. Hurd; a Mr.
Lintot, from Natchez, who was a passenger with me from New Orleans to
Philadelphia.
[16] We learn, from Gayarre's _History of the Spanish Domination
of Louisiana_, that, in July, 1789, Pierre Foucher, a lieutenant
of the regiment of Louisiana, was sent, with two sergeants, two
corporals, and thirty soldiers, to build a fort at New Madrid,
and take the civil and military command of that district, with
instructions to govern those new colonists in such a way as to
make them feel that they had found among the Spaniards the state
of ease and comfort of which they were in quest.
Colonel John Pope, in his _Tour Through the Western and Southern
States_, states, under date, March 12, 1791: "Breakfasted and
dined with Signor Pedro Foucher, commandant at New Madrid. The
garrison consists of about ninety men, who are well supplied
with food and raiment. They have an excellent train of artillery,
which appears to be their chief defense. Two regular companies
of musqueteers, with charged bayonets, might take this place. Of
this opinion is the commandant himself, who complains that he is
not sufficiently supported. He is a Creole of French extraction,
of Patagonian size, polite in his manners, and of a most noble
presence."
Lieutenant Foucher must have left the country long before the
great earthquake of 1811-12. The Spaniards evacuated their posts
on the Mississippi to the north of 31st degree in 1798; and, two
years later, transferred the country to France, and, in 1803, it
was purchased by the United States.
On our entering the Mississippi, we had agreed that the foremost boat
should fire a gun as a token for landing, if they saw a favorable spot
after the middle of the afternoon. It was not possible to run in
safety during the night. It so happened that every afternoon we had a
thunder shower and head wind.
Nothing special occurred, I believe, till our arrival at Natchez.
There was no settlement from _L'Anse a la Graisse_ to _Bayou Pierre_,
something like sixty miles above Natchez. At Bayou Pierre lived
Colonel Bruin,[17] of the Virginia Continental line, who, after the
war, took letters from General Washington to the governor of that
country while it belonged to Spain, and secured a fine land grant. I
once visited Colonel Bruin, with a gentleman from Natchez. That
section of country is remarkably handsome, and the soil rich. The
colonel's dwelling-house was on the top of a large mound, and his barn
on another, near by. These mounds are common in the Ohio and
Mississippi countries, and no tradition gives their origin.
[17] Colonel Peter Bryan Bruin, son of an Irish gentleman, who
had become implicated in the Irish Rebellion of 1756, and
confiscation and exile were his penalty. He brought with him
to America his only son, who was reared a merchant. In the War
of the Revolution, he entered Morgan's famous riflemen as a
lieutenant, shared in the assault on Quebec, where he was
made a prisoner, and confined in a prison ship, infected with
small-pox, for six months. He was finally exchanged, and at
length promoted to the rank of major, serving to the end of the
war. Soon after settling near the mouth of Bayou Pierre, he was
appointed alcalde, or magistrate, under the Spanish Government;
and when the Mississippi Territory was organized, in 1798, he
was appointed one of the three territorial judges, remaining in
office until he resigned, in 1810. He lived till a good old age,
was a devoted patriot, and a man of high moral character.
While in Louisville, I bought a young cub bear, and kept him chained
in the back room of my store. He was about a month or two old when I
got him; and when I went down the river, I took him along to Natchez.
When twelve or fifteen months old, he became very saucy; I only could
keep him in subjection. When he became too troublesome, Uncle Forman
had him killed, and invited several gentlemen to join him in partaking
of his bear dinner.
When our little fleet of five boats first came in sight of the village
of Natchez, it presented quite a formidable appearance, and caused a
little alarm at the fort; the drum beat to arms, but the affright soon
subsided. About this time, a report circulated that general somebody,
I have forgotten his name, was in Kentucky raising troops destined
against that country; but it all evaporated.[18]
[18] This refers to the proposed settlement at the Walnut Hills,
at the mouth of the Yazoo, under the auspices of the famous Yazoo
Company, composed mostly of prominent South Carolina and Georgia
gentlemen. Dr. John O'Fallon, who subsequently married a sister
of General George Rogers Clark, located at Louisville, Ky., as
the agent and active partner in that region and endeavored to
enlist General Clark as the military leader of the enterprise;
but it would appear that the general declined the command, and
Colonel John Holder, a noted Kentucky pioneer and Indian fighter,
was chosen in his place. But nothing was accomplished. The original
grant was obtained by bribery, fraud, and corruption, from the
Georgia Legislature; and a subsequent legislature repudiated the
transaction, and ordered all the documents and records connected
with it to be burned in the public square.
Natchez was then a small place, with houses generally of a mean
structure, built mostly on the low bank of the river, and on the
hillside. The fort was on a handsome, commanding spot, on the elevated
ground, from which was a most extensive view up the river, and over
the surrounding country. The governor's house was not far from the
garrison. Uncle Forman had at first hired a large house, about
half-way up the hill from the landing, where he lived until he bought
a plantation of five hundred acres on the bank of St. Catherine's
creek, about four miles from Natchez. This he regarded as only a
temporary abode, until he could become better acquainted with the
country. The place had a small clearing and a log house on it, and he
put up another log house to correspond with it, about fourteen feet
apart, connecting them with boards, with a piazza in front of the
whole. The usual term applied to such a structure was that it was "two
pens and a passage." This connecting passage made a fine hall, and
altogether gave it a good and comfortable appearance.
Boards were scarce, and I do not remember of seeing any saw or
grist-mills in the country. Uncle Forman had a horse-mill, something
like a cider-mill, to grind corn for family use. In range with his
dwelling he built a number of negro houses, some distance off, on the
bank of St. Catherine's creek. It made quite a pretty street. The
little creek was extremely convenient. The negroes the first year
cleared a large field for tobacco, for the cultivation of that article
was the object of Mr. Forman's migration to that country.
After my arrival, and while sojourning at Natchez, Uncle Forman asked
me if I intended to apply to the government for lands. I replied that
I did not want any. He said he was glad of it, unless I remained in
the country. He hinted something to the effect that one of the Spanish
officers, who talked of leaving the country, had an elegant
plantation, with negroes for its cultivation, and he thought of buying
it, if I would stay and take it; that if I took land of government,
and sold out, it might give umbrage to the governor, and I, being a
relation, he suffer by it. I told him my father was loath to let me
come away, and I promised that I would return if my life was spared
me.
After this, Surveyor-General Dunbar,[19] much to my surprise, called
on me, and said that he brought the survey and map of my land, and
presented a bill of sixty dollars for his services. I told him that I
had not asked for land, nor had Governor Gayoso ever said any thing to
me about land, nor did I want any. General Dunbar replied that the
governor directed him to survey for Don Samuel S. Forman eight hundred
acres of land, and that it was the best and most valuable tract that
he knew of in the district, including a beautiful stream of water,
with a gravelly bottom--rare in that country; that it was well
located, near a Mr. Ellis, at the White Cliffs, and advised me by all
means to take it. Uncle Forman happened to be absent, and I was in
doubt what to do. At last I paid the bill and took the papers. The
largest quantity that the Spanish Government gave to a young man who
settled in that country was two hundred and forty acres, so the
governor showed much friendship by complimenting me with so large a
grant.
[19] Sir William Dunbar, son of Sir Archibald Dunbar, was born
at Elgin, Scotland, and received a superior education in Glasgow
and London. On account of failing health, he obtained a stock of
goods for the Indian trade; and, landing in Philadelphia in
April, 1771, took his goods to Fort Pitt, and about 1773 he went
to West Florida to form a plantation. He suffered much during
the period of the Revolution, and in 1772 settled near Natchez,
became chief surveyor under the Spanish Government, and in 1798
he was appointed astronomical commissioner on the part of Spain
in establishing the boundary. He was shortly after appointed by
Governor Sargeant, on the organization of Mississippi Territory,
under the United States Government, chief judge of the Court of
Quarter Sessions. He corresponded with the most distinguished
scientific men of his time, and contributed to the Transactions
of the American Philosophical Society. He died in 1810, leaving
many descendants.
I must go back a little, and state that my good traveling companions,
Messrs. Bayard, Gano, Winters, and January, parted from me, and
continued their journey down the river. Uncle Forman had been
acquainted with Mr. Bayard, in Philadelphia, and their meeting in a
distant and foreign country was very gratifying. The interview was
very brief, for Mr. Bayard and associates were anxious to pursue their
voyage.
At Natchez we made many agreeable acquaintances. Governor Gayoso, a
bachelor, was very affable and pleasant, and had an English education.
The fort-major, Stephen Minor,[20] was a Jerseyman from Princeton, and
Mr. Hutchins,[21] a wealthy planter, was a brother to Thomas Hutchins,
the geographer-general of the United States. His wife was a Conover,
from near Freehold village, and knew more about Freehold than I did.
Also a Mr. Moore, a wealthy planter, Mr. Bernard Lintot, who moved
from Vermont before the war, and Mr. Ellis, a wealthy planter--all
having large families, sons and daughters, very genteel and
accomplished. These all lived from eight to fourteen miles from us.
[20] Stephen Minor was a native of Pennsylvania, well-educated,
and early made his way West; first to St. Louis, and then to New
Orleans, and was soon appointed to official station by the
Spanish Government, rising eventually to the governorship at
Natchez, and so continuing till the evacuation of the country.
He then became a citizen of the United States, and was useful
to the country. He died in after years at Concord, Mississippi.
[21] Colonel Anthony Hutchins was a native of New Jersey; early
migrated to North Carolina, and in 1772 explored the Natchez
country, settling permanently at the White Apple village, twelve
miles from Natchez, the following year, and survived the troubles
of the Revolution, and died when past eighty years of age.
In the village of Natchez resided Monsieur and Madam
Mansanteo--Spanish Jews, I think--who were the most kind and
hospitable of people. These families, in town and country, formed our
principal associates. Governor Gayoso told us, after we moved out to
St. Catherine, that there would always be a plate for us at his table.
The year 1790 was a very sickly one for unacclimated persons in the
Natchez country. All our family adults had more or less fever, and
fever and ague. Uncle Forman was severely afflicted with gout--a lump
almost as big as a small hen's egg swelled out at one of his elbows,
with something of the appearance of chalk. Poor Betsey Church was
taken with a fever, and died in a few days; a great loss to the
family, having been a valuable and much respected member of it for
many years. I was the only adult of the family who was not confined to
the house with sickness.
Stephen Minor, the fort-major, married the eldest daughter of the
planter, Mr. Ellis. Our family was much visited by the Spanish
officers, who were very genteel men; and Major Minor was very
intimate, and seemed to take much interest in us.
When the time was fixed for my departure, by the way of New Orleans,
and thence by sea to Philadelphia, Uncle Forman said: "Well, you must
direct Moses, the coachman, to get up the carriage, take two of your
cousins with you, and take leave of all your good friends." The
carriage, which had its top broken off crossing the mountains in
Pennsylvania, had been fitted up in Natchez, with neat bannister work
around the top of the body, which rendered it more convenient for the
country. We sometimes took the family in it, and went out
strawberrying over the prairies.
Cousins Augusta and Margaret accompanied me on my farewell tour. Ours
was the first four-wheeled carriage that ever passed over those
grounds--I can't say roads, for the highway was only what was called a
bridle-path--all traveling at that day was on horseback. When we
visited one place, some of our friends from another locality meeting
us there would ascertain the day we designed visiting their house,
that they might have the cane-brakes along the trail cleared away
sufficient to permit the comfortable passage of the carriage; and we
must, moreover, be on time, or some small gust of wind might again
obstruct the passage. Our visits were all very pleasant save the
unhappy part of the final bidding each other farewell.
During this excursion, Governor Gayoso had given permission for a
Baptist clergyman to preach one Sunday, which was the first time a
protestant minister had been allowed to hold religious services. The
meeting was held at Colonel Hutchins'. We went from the residence of
some friends in that vicinity. After service we were invited to stay
and dine at Colonel Hutchins'. When we were ready to depart, all came
out of the house to see us off, and I asked the ladies in a jocose way
to join us in the ride, when they began to climb over the wheels as
though they might endanger the safety of the carriage; but this
frolicsome banter over, we took our departure. We spent several days
in performing this friendly round of visits--by-gone days of happiness
never to return.
When I was about leaving the country, Governor Gayoso asked me what I
intended to do with my land. I replied, that if I did not return in a
year or two, that his excellency could do what he pleased with it.
Some years after, when I lived in Cazenovia, I contemplated going
back, and went to my large chest, which had traveled with me from
Pittsburg to New Orleans, and thence in all my tramps and changes,
where I supposed all my Spanish papers were safe in a little drawer;
but, to my surprise, they were missing, and I never could tell what
became of them, as I kept the chest locked, and retained the key. So
vanished my eight hundred acres of valuable land in the promising
Mississippi country.
On the arrival of Colonel Wyckoff, with his brother-in-law, Scudder,
from Tennessee, preparations were made for our departure. Uncle Forman
went down to New Orleans with us. It was in June, 1791, I believe,
that we left Natchez. The parting with my kindred was most trying and
affecting, having traveled and hazarded our lives together for so many
hundred miles, and never expecting to meet again in this life. Many of
the poor colored people, too, came and took leave of me, with tears
streaming down their cheeks. Take them altogether, they were the
finest lot of servants I ever saw. They were sensible that they were
all well cared for--well fed, well clothed, well housed, each family
living separately, and they were treated with kindness. Captain
Osmun,[22] their overseer, was a kind-hearted man, and used them
well. They had ocular proof of their happy situation when compared
with their neighbor's servants. It was the custom of the country to
exchange work at times; and, one day, one of our men came to me, and
said: "I don't think it is right to exchange work with these planters;
for I can, with ease, do more work than any two of their men;" and
added, "their men pound their corn over night for their next day's
supply, and they are too weak to work." Poor fellows, corn was all
they had to eat.
[22] Benajah Osmun served, as Mr. Forman has previously stated,
at the defeat of General Washington's troops on Long Island, in
August, 1776, when he was made a prisoner; he was then,
apparently, a soldier in the ranks. On January 1, 1777, he
was appointed a second lieutenant and quartermaster in Colonel
Shreve's Second New Jersey regiment, which he subsequently
resigned. In September, 1778, he again entered the army as an
ensign in the second regiment; was a prisoner of war on April
25, 1780; made a lieutenant January 1, 1781, retiring at the
close of the war with the brevet rank of captain.
In 1802, he was made lieutenant-colonel of the Adams county
militia; and when Colonel Burr visited the country, in 1807,
on his mysterious mission, he was the guest of Colonel Osmun,
who was one of his two bondsmen for his appearance at court,
for they were fellow officers in the Revolution. Colonel Osmun
settled a plantation at the foot of Half Way hill, near Natchez,
became wealthy, and there died, a bachelor, at a good old age.
Uncle Forman and I stopped the first night with Mr. Ellis, at the
White Cliffs, and next day embarked on board of a boat for New
Orleans. On our way down we sometimes went on shore and took a bowl of
chocolate for breakfast with some rich planter, a very common custom
of the country. The night before our arrival at New Orleans we put up
with a Catholic priest; some gentlemen of our company were well
acquainted between Natchez and New Orleans, and had learned the
desirable stopping places. The good priest received us kindly, gave us
an excellent supper, plenty of wine, and was himself very lively. We
took breakfast with him the next morning; and before our departure the
priest came up to me with a silver plate in his hand, on which were
two fine looking pears, which he tendered me. He looked at first very
serious; but, remembering his good humor the previous evening, I
suspected his fun had not yet all run out. I eyed him pretty close,
and while thanking him, I rather hesitated, when he urged me to take
them. I knew no pears grew in that country. I finally took one,
weighed it in my hand, and looked at him, till he bursted out into a
loud laugh. They were ingeniously wrought out of stone or marble, and
looked exactly like pears. I brought them home and gave them to a
friend.
Arriving in New Orleans, we took lodgings, and our first business was
to wait on his excellency Governor Miro. Mr. Forman settling within
his government with so large a number of people, under an arrangement
with the Spanish ambassador at New York, Don Diego de Gardoque, gave
him a high standing. Uncle Forman was in person a fine-looking man,
very neat, prepossessing, and of genteel deportment, so that he was
always much noticed.
As there was then no vessel in port destined for the United States, I
had to delay a couple of weeks for one. At length the brig Navarre,
Captain McFadden, made its appearance, and soon loaded for
Philadelphia. There were a number of Americans in waiting, who engaged
their passage with me, on this vessel. Uncle Forman did not leave the
city until after the Navarre had taken its departure. He suggested
that I should take a formal leave of Governor Miro and his secretary,
Don Andre. The secretary was a large, fine-looking man. I politely
asked him if he had any commands for the cape--Cape Francois, a fine
town in the northern part of St. Domingo, usually dignified with the
designation of the _The Cape_--for which port, I believe, the vessel
cleared. "I know not," said the secretary, "to what cape you are
going--only take good care of yourself."
After all were on board, the brig dropped down two or three miles,
where the passengers went ashore, and laid in provisions enough, the
captain said, to have carried us to London after our arrival in
Philadelphia. I may mention something about distances as computed in
those days. From Natchez to New Orleans was called three hundred miles
by water, and only one hundred and fifty by land. From New Orleans to
the Balize, at the mouth of the Mississippi, was reckoned one hundred
and five miles. It was said that such was the immense volume of the
Mississippi river that it kept its course and muddy appearance for a
league out at sea.