weather again became more moderate; and the sun shone pleasantly. I
reached a hunting ground; and here game was very plenty. Black and grey
squirrels, partridges, quails, and deer were numerous. Five or six of
the latter were situated not far from me in a little thicket. My
garments of fur caused them to look upon me with rather an inquisitive
than fearful aspect. I had never seen wild deer before, and they
appeared too innocent for death. I was only half disposed to shoot them;
and whilst I was musing upon this interesting group, they saw my dogs,
and bounded delightfully over the hills and rivulets. My dogs
voluntarily pursued them, and brought one of these guileless animals to
the earth.
It is truly unpleasant to survey that lengthy, and complicated chain of
destruction, which supports animal life. From the animalcula of physical
nature to Behemoth himself, there is, mutually or exclusively, perpetual
carnage. Man, although a compound being;—altho’ possessing a moral as
well as a physical nature, is the great devourer. He revels, in {94}
pride and in luxury, upon the animal world; and after feasting high,
employs himself in the butchery of his own species. Such is the
aberrative power incident to his free agency.
The destruction of animal life is necessary to the security, and perhaps
to the health of man; but the life and comfort of animals should never
be trifled with. It is the only life which they can live; their little
light, once put out, is extinguished forever.
Upon leaving the hunting ground I passed Vermillion River.[85] It is
inconsiderable, but abounds with fish. The weather had so moderated,
that there was much danger in passing it on the ice. The soil near this
river is of a very fertile quality. It is diversified with levels and
gentle swells; and is covered with a valuable growth of hard wood. The
sugar maple greatly abounds here, and vast quantities of sugar and
molasses are produced from its sap. Here too are frequently found bee
hives containing from 100 to 200 pounds of honey. Many kinds of nuts
also grow here in great abundance; and the swine in the woods are very
numerous. The boars sometimes become wild and fierce, and are hunted
with horses and dogs.
I have observed, that the land, in the vicinity of Buffalo, is not so
good as that which is east of it. The soil appears to become better and
better after crossing the Pennsylvania line; and especially after
reaching Vermillion River. Previous to my arrival here, however, I
could, owing to the snow, judge only from the situation of the land, the
growth of timber upon it, and from information occasionally obtained.
On the 8th of March I passed Huron River.[86] The weather was moderate,
the snow and ice melted very fast, and I crossed a rapid freshet on
logs. The traveller, after having long marched through deep snows, and
after having experienced all the severities {95} of winter, sees, in the
thawing winds of spring, the hand of a watchful and kind Providence. “He
casteth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before his cold! He
sendeth out his word, and melteth them; he causeth his wind to blow and
the waters to flow.”
Soon after leaving this river I crossed vast prairies, all of which are
rich, but some of them are too wet for cultivation. The best of these
prairies are from two to three feet deep, consisting of a rich black
mould, and having a pan of limestone. A team of four yoke of oxen is
necessary to plough them. The most proper series of crops is, first
wheat, secondly corn, and then, lying fallow, the land will produce a
spontaneous growth of fine grass, which answers every necessary purpose
of fodder in this part of the country. Innumerable cattle may be fed on
these prairies in summer, and, generally, they may subsist here during a
considerable part of the winter. An unlimited quantity of coarse hay may
be cut here; growing, as it does, spontaneously, and in great abundance.
By cutting it, the growth becomes less coarse, and more succulent and
palatable.
Cattle in this part of the country are, in the summer season, very fat;
but a great many of them die of disease, and often very suddenly. Last
winter they suffered greatly from the severity of the season, and the
want of fodder; and during the early part of last spring many of them
were in a perishing condition.
Crops of wheat here are very good; and the best of the land produces
from 40 to 60 bushels of corn an acre without manure. Indeed manure is
never used here. In time, however, the natural fertility of the soil
will become less; and farmers would do well, even here, to yard their
cattle.
At present, provisions in this part of the country {96} command a high
price. The numerous emigrations thither produce a scarcity. Along the
south shore of Lake Erie the markets will, for some time to come, be
very good. Depos of provisions are established here by the farmers of
New-York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio; and vessels on the Lake transport
them, during the spring and fall, to Detroit and other places. Although
the cultivator, in the immediate vicinity of Detroit, meets with every
encouragement, agriculture there is very little attended to; the
consequence is, that produce to a large amount finds, from abroad, a
ready market in that place.
I now consider myself in that part of the state of Ohio which lies west
of the Connecticut Reserve.
Of considerable portions of the country, which are situated between the
Huron and Sandusky rivers, I entertain a favourable opinion; other parts
of it, however, are too swampy for cultivation. There are many fine
tracts from the Pennsylvania line to the last mentioned place.
The Deer in the vicinity of the prairies, of which I have been speaking,
are very large. Some of them weigh from 150 to 200 pounds. Wild turkeys
too, are here numerous, and they sometimes weigh from 20 to 30 pounds.
But facts like these unduly affect the imagination. These kinds of game
cannot always be found; the toils of the chase are frequently
unrewarded; and many who have settled in the west with lively feelings
upon this topic, have abandoned this precarious source of profit.
For several days I have been employed in crossing vast prairies. The
weather continued moderate, the snow, water, and mud were deep, and
wading laborious. I frequently met with considerable freshets, and the
banks of the creeks were overflown. Here I saw vast flocks of wild geese
flying towards {97} Sandusky Bay. Their hoarse notes, proceeding from
the misty air, rendered even more solitary a trackless and almost
illimitable plain of high and coarse grass. I was repeatedly lost in
these prairies; and found it necessary to calculate my way by compass
and maps.
Within about twenty miles of the famous Black Swamp,[87] I entered, late
in the afternoon, a dark wood in a low and wet situation. The weather
being moderate, I continued to travel until very late in the evening.
About 12 o’clock at night my dogs contended with a herd of wolves and
were both slain. The winter, until within a few days, having been very
severe, the wolves, probably, were very hungry and ferocious. It is
said, that in this part of the country they are very numerous and bold.
From the manner in which the contest commenced, I am inclined to
believe, that the wolves, having issued from their dens, had come to
feast themselves. Previous to the rencounter, all was perfect silence.
My dogs were near me, and without the least noise, which I could
perceive, the war commenced. It was sudden and furious.
I had, for hours, been experiencing a most excruciating tooth-ache; and
my sense of hearing was considerably affected by it. But when the
contest began, I, for a moment, forgot my infirmities, seized my gun,
encouraged my dogs, and marched forth in the most lively expectation of
achieving some great victory. It being, however, very dark, the bushes
being thick, and the voice of the battle beginning to die upon my ear, a
sense of my sufferings returned, and I sought repose in my tent. But I
found no repose there: the whole night was employed in endeavouring to
assuage with gun powder and salt, the only applications in my power, an
almost insufferable tooth-ache.
{98} My dogs never returned from the strife. I had lost the faithful,
and disinterested partners of my toil. I could not leave so interesting
a place. For two nights and one day I remained upon the spot;—but for
what, I did not know. In the listlessness of sorrow I fired my rifle
into the air. At length I realized, that my dogs had fallen nobly; and
the sentiments of grief found a solace in the dictates of pride.
As the fate of my dogs is interesting I may be permitted to spend a
moment in their praise.
They were not, like the hounds of Sparta, dewlaped and flewed; but they
possessed the acuteness of these, with the courage of the mastiff. They
were very large, and accustomed to the strife of the woods. Tyger was
grave and intrepid. Small game excited in him no interest; but when the
breath of the foe greeted him in the breeze, he surveyed, at a glance,
and with a lofty aspect the surrounding wood. Slow, steady, and firm in
pursuit, he remained silent until the object of his search was found;
and then, a cry more terrible than his
“Was never hallowed to,
Nor check’d with horn in Crete or Thessaly.”
He had lost an eye in the battles of the mountains, and was, in every
sense of the word, a veteran.
Pomp was active, generous, affectionate, and in courage and perseverance
unrivalled. In the night, it was his custom to pillow his head upon his
master’s breast; and he ever seemed concerned to guard him from the
dangers of an unsheltered repose.
Perhaps too I may here notice some traits in the character of the wolf.
The countenance of this animal evinces both cunning and ferocity. The
length of his body is generally about four feet, the legs from fifteen
to eighteen inches, the circumference of {99} the body from two and an
half to three feet, and the tail sixteen inches in length. The colour of
the wolf is a mixture of light and brown with streaks of grey. His hair
is long, rough, and very coarse; his tail is bushy, something like that
of a fox, his body is generally gaunt, his limbs are muscular, and his
strength very great: with perfect ease he can carry a sheep in his
mouth.
The cunning and agility of this animal are equal to his strength; and
his appetite for animal food is exceedingly voracious;—so much so, that
he often dies in pining for it. When his hunger is very imperious, even
man becomes the object of his ferocity. His sense of smelling is so
acute, that at the distance of three leagues, a carcass will attract his
attention. The wolf is a very solitary animal; and never associates with
his species but for the purpose of attacking a human being, or some
animal of which he is individually afraid; and when the object of the
combination is effected, each retires sullenly to his den.
It appears by the early stages of English history, that wolves in
England have been so formidable as to attract the particular attention
of the King; and even as late as Edward the first, a superintendant was
appointed for the extirpation of this dangerous and destructive animal.
I may add that not long after the loss of my dogs I reached, just before
night, a solitary log hut; and in about an hour after a wolf howled at
the door.
Leaving the field of battle, I moved on towards Sandusky rapids. My
health had suffered by fatigue and want of sleep. The weather was still
moderate; and the water, rushing through the vallies, seemed to sing the
requiem of my lost companions. My lone steps too, through the streams,
forcibly reminded me of their absence.
{100} In the course of the day I passed over the low and swampy grounds,
and the prospect became a little diversified. A few small yet steep
hills presented themselves. Here the soil is fertile and the growth of
timber elegant; upon one spacious rise of ground near these, however,
there are a few scattering oaks, and the soil is thin and sterile.
The following night I heard the howling of some beasts of prey, and
apprehended an attack. I newly primed my gun and pistols; but my ragged
domicil was not invaded.
A day or two after, I reached Sandusky Rapids.[88] The land in the
vicinity of this river is very fertile. The hill, a little west of the
river, is high, and its summit constitutes a vast plain of rich land. A
town, I understand, is here to be laid out. The soil below the hill, on
both sides of the river, is also very rich; but the situation is too low
to be pleasant, and must, I think, be unhealthy. On the west of the
river are a few scattering houses. The river at the rapids is about
thirty rods wide; and when I crossed it, it was full of floating ice.
The velocity of the current was great. Sandusky Bay is situated about
eighteen miles below the rapids; and Upper Sandusky lies about forty
miles above them.[89] Upon this river are situated several tribes of
Wyandot and Seneca Indians; and the United States derived from them by
the treaty of Greenville, two small tracts of land lying upon the banks
of the above mentioned river and bay.[90]
At a little distance from the western bank of the lower rapids of this
river is Fort Sandusky, which was, during the late war, so nobly and
effectually defended by the youthful Croghan.[91] I examined this post
with much attention and interest. Its means of annoyance must have been
in itself, inconsiderable; but the genius of a Croghan, supported by one
{101} hundred and sixty patriotic and unyielding spirits, defended it
against the repeated and embittered efforts of five hundred British
regulars, and seven hundred Indians, aided by several gunboats and some
pieces of artillery. The beseiged had only one six pounder. This they
masked until the enemy leaped into the ditch, and then it swept them
with dreadful carnage. This defence is beyond praise.
After remaining at Sandusky a few hours I entered the celebrated Black
Swamp. It was in its very worst state. In my journal I observe, that I
will not attempt to describe it. There was an unusual quantity of snow
and ice upon the ground; and the weather being moderate the water
rapidly increased. The distance across the swamp is forty miles. The
wading was continually deep, the bushes thick, and the surface of the
earth frozen and full of holes. What was worse than all, the ice, not
yet separated and nearly strong enough to bear one, was continually
breaking and letting the traveller into water from two to four feet in
depth. The creeks there too are numerous, and the ice in them was broken
up. The freshets were great, the banks of the creeks overflown, and the
whole country inundated. In proceeding through the swamp I was
constantly employed in making great exertions for nearly four days. The
weight of my dress and baggage was a very great incumbrance to me; but
my buffalo pantaloons were a defence against the thick yet brittle ice
through which I was continually breaking.
At the edge of the swamp I saw an Indian passing across a neck of land
on the Sandusky; and I hailed him, for the purpose of obtaining some
information as to the best way through this trackless wild; but he
either could not speak English, or pretended that this was the case. It
is said that they {102} frequently do so. Soon after, I met with three
Indians, together with one white man. The white man was a little
intoxicated, and had, they said, engaged to do some work for them but
had run away. Whilst I was obtaining from them information as to my
course, the white man, falling a little behind, again deserted. My rifle
was immediately seized by the Indians for the purpose of shooting him;
but by great exertions I held it, until the man was out of sight, and
then they desisted and pursued him. I marched on.
Towards evening I found a small elevation of land, and there encamped
for the night. My little fire appeared like a star on the bosom of
ocean. Earth was my couch, and my covering the brilliant canopy of
Heaven. After preparing my supper, I slept in peace; but was awakened,
at daylight, by a high wind accompanied by rain. Ere I arose, the lofty
trees shaken by the tempest seemed ready to fall upon me. During the
evening, such was the stillness of the situation, and such the splendour
of the firmament, that nothing but fatigue could have checked the
current of reflection. How great are the advantages of solitude!—How
sublime is the silence of nature’s ever active energies! There is
something in the very name of wilderness, which charms the ear, and
soothes the spirit of man. There is religion in it.—The children of
Israel were in the wilderness, and it was a type of this world! They
sought too the Land of Promise, and this was a type of Heaven.
The next morning I renewed my exertions. The weather was lowering and
cold. I found it necessary to wade through water of the depth of four or
five feet, and my clothes were covered with icicles. About noon I
arrived at a creek, a little to the east of Charon river,[92] and found
much difficulty and danger {103} in crossing it. The channel of the
creek was very deep, and its banks overflown, on both sides, for a
quarter of a mile. After wading some way, I reached the channel, and by
the aid of a fallen tree and some floating logs crossed it; the current,
however, was so rapid, that upon the fallen tree lying under the
surface, I could scarcely keep upon my feet: a single mis-step would
have been fatal.
Immediately after crossing the channel, I found the water about four
feet deep; and its depth soon increased so as to reach my shoulders.
Here I stopped to survey my situation. Although the trees in this place
were large and scattering, I could not perceive the land. The prospect
reminded me of the Lake of the Woods. After wading up and down for some
time, in the hope of finding the water less deep, I concluded to
re-cross the channel and endeavour to obtain a fordable place in some
other direction; but in attempting to return, a large and decayed log,
upon which I had floated and upon which the impression of my feet had
been left, could not be found. I was here completely bewildered. Alone,
nearly up to my neck in water, apparently in the midst of a shoreless
ocean, being too without my dogs, which used to swim around me when
crossing such places, my situation was rather unpleasant; the novelty of
it, however, together with my apparent inability to extricate myself
produced a resourceless smile. After a while, I repassed the channel of
the creek; and finally, by much labour and with great hazard, reached
the western shore.
During a part of this day it rained; and so solitary was the aspect of
every thing around me, that a very eloquent idea of the pious orator of
Uz naturally presented itself:—
“To cause it to rain on the earth, where no man is;—
On the wilderness, where there is no man.”
{104} The next day the weather was severe. The ice among the bushes had
become harder; but still it would not bear me, and the water was
exceedingly cold. Icicles formed upon my clothes almost immediately. I
was continually wading in a greater or less depth of water during the
whole day; and sometimes travelled for miles in three or four feet of it
without cessation. Travelling through such a depth of water where the
ice breaks at almost every step is exceedingly laborious. During this
day too, I passed several deep and rapid creeks in the usual way. At
dusk I fell in with about twenty Indians of the Wyandot Tribe. They were
encamped on a small rise of land which, however, was rather wet. They
had recently come from the vicinity of Fort Meigs, and were travelling
to some hunting ground. Their condition was deplorable. They had, the
day before, buried one of their company, another of them was very sick,
and they had no provisions. I had but a trifle myself, and the wants of
the sick Indian rendered me supperless.
These Indians surveyed me with rather a grave and distant aspect; but
with one of them, who could speak English, I became well acquainted. In
the course of the evening some strips of bark were prepared to keep me
from the ground; but my clothes being wet, and having no covering it was
impossible for me to sleep. Indeed so cold was the night, that the next
morning the swamp was frozen very hard. My Indian friend called himself
Will Siscomb; and with him I conversed respecting the Great Spirit.
During the night I perceived, that the poor Indians suffered much from
cold, and from the smoke of their fire. They, however, beguiled the time
by their rude songs.
Very early the next morning I left this tawny group, and in the course
of the day arrived at Fort Meigs.
{105} Here the Black, or Miami Swamp terminates; but for fifty miles
east of this tract, and for the same distance west of Fort Meigs, the
country is generally level, covered with trees, bushes, and long grass,
and in the spring of the year very wet.
I had long been wishing to see Fort Meigs; and there I rested, for an
hour, my weary feet.[93] The Fort is very large, and its situation is
somewhat commanding. The Miami of the Lake runs about a half mile west
of the Fort; and the river is here about one third of a mile wide.
I have understood, of late, that the courage and conduct of General
Harrison, who commanded at Fort Meigs in the course of the last war, was
questionable. I shall take the liberty to express a few ideas upon this
topic, because it is natural for one to advocate the cause of a brave
man, whose courage has been denied, and that too, perhaps, by the most
contemptible combination of cowardice and envy.
The spirit of detraction is at once malignant and cowardly. It possesses
the capacity to injure, and at the same time the means of shielding
itself from detection. A single breath may tarnish the brightest
character; the world, therefore, for its own sake, as well as for the
sake of justice and humanity, should listen with a jealous ear to the
tongue of slander.
I never had the honour of seeing General Harrison; but what, I ask, are
the grounds of the charge against him? General Harrison was a fellow
soldier and disciple of the wary and energetic General Wayne. His
knowledge of military tactics is very extensive, and his courage, for
ought I can see, is of a high order. Up to the time of the bloody battle
of Tippecanoe, the government, no doubt, thought him brave; and here he
was truly so. At Fort Meigs too, he undauntedly maintained {106} his
position, in the midst of a wilderness, surrounded by hordes of savages,
headed by Tecumseh, and supported by regular troops commanded by the
blood-thirsty Proctor. Afterwards he met and defeated the enemy at the
River Thames.
Probably his courage was questioned, because he did not, whilst
unprepared, press on to Detroit, and expose his forces to that
destruction which befel those of Winchester.[94] Many an ignorant
militia man, and inexperienced young officer, would have recommended
such a course. But Harrison, well acquainted with the requisites of an
army, well versed in the stratagems of savage warfare, and knowing well
the exposed situation of the frontier, thought best to remain where he
was until his own situation, or that of the enemy should warrant an
attempt to proceed. Had he marched further west, and by so doing been
defeated, every settlement and log hut on the southern shore of Lake
Erie would have been ravaged, and their inhabitants, probably, consigned
to savage fury.
At the foot of the hill, upon which is Fort Meigs, there are a few log
houses. The situation under the hill is very low, and the soil rich. The
river here is called the Miami of the Lake, to distinguish it from the
Great Miami, and Little Miami rivers, which discharge their waters into
the Ohio.
When I arrived at the Miami of the Lake, its banks had been so overflown
as to pile up about the houses huge masses of ice. The water had risen
so as to flow through the windows, and many swine and other domestic
animals were swept from the yards.
I found the velocity of the rapids very great; and there was much danger
in crossing them. The opposite bank is pleasantly diversified, and its
soil is very fertile. Here Colonel Dudley, commanding {107} a detachment
from Fort Meigs, during the last war, gallantly compelled the enemy to
retreat; but owing to the imprudent zeal of his brave men, both them and
himself were ambushed and slain.[95] Upon this river are situated the
Vermillion and other tribes of Indians.