for a moment, the vast inland navigation which they afford. From the
City of New-York to New-Orleans, by the way of the Lakes, the distance
is about four thousand miles; and yet, without the aid of canals, the
land carriage through this whole route is only about thirty miles. Such
is the wonderful superiority of our country relative to inland
navigation. Owing to this easy communication between the interior and
the sea board, and to the other advantages of a residence in the west,
it is to be presumed, that in the course of two centuries the western
world will be as populous as the Continent of Europe. Such are the
prospects presented to the politician in this country, and such the
interest which they are calculated to excite in the breast of the
American patriot, that one, in relation to this subject, would wish to
live a thousand years. Admiration and concern occupy his mind. He wishes
to watch the progress of events; and to apply, from time to time, the
salutary principles of rational government. Aware of the oscillating
nature of popular {134} sentiment, he fears that in some unfortunate
moment the waves of popular feeling will be agitated, and that they will
continue to dash even after the cause of their vexation shall have been
forgotten.—He realizes, that in proportion to the extent of national
territory, viewed in connection with the increase of population, the
accumulation of wealth, the progress of arts, the habits of refinement,
the corruptions of luxury, and lastly, with the dregs of that spirit of
independence, which, in its purest essence, blends charity with
suspicion, and forbearance with energy; but, in its deterioration,
substitutes for these, a contracted jealousy, and a blind resentment:—he
realizes, that in proportion to the extent of national territory, viewed
in relation to these circumstances, will be the horrors of political
concussion, and the miseries of consequent anarchy or despotism. Such
are the effects, which are to be apprehended from the rapid and ultimate
increase of the United States, that the American patriot, in view of her
prosperity and of his own dissolution, may well exclaim, Oh, save my
country!
It is with nations as with individuals; adversity is equally requisite
for both. This is the only school where true wisdom can be acquired, and
where the native luxuriance of the heart can meet with due
restraints.—May Heaven guide our destinies by his chastening mercy!
I now suppose myself at Detroit, and about to leave it for the purpose
of crossing Lake Erie. I speak not in vanity, but to do justice to the
hospitality of this city: I arrived here an entire stranger, and left
the place surrounded by friends. How grateful to the traveller, worn
down by fatigue, is the hand of friendship and the smile of approbation!
Upon leaving the Government wharf, I felt more than I should be willing
to express:—The world do {135} not understand the language of the heart.
I consider myself under particular obligations to A. G. W. Esquire. He
voluntarily sought my acquaintance, and in the most interesting manner
convinced me of his regard. This gentleman is conspicuous for his
independence and literary attainments; but his greatest characteristic
is native modesty.
Whilst at Detroit, I was much interested and amused by the conduct of an
Indian; both by the principles upon which he acted, and the manner with
which he displayed them. One morning, whilst conversing with my friend
Doctor W. in came an Indian, and putting a finger to his mouth said,
with a patient aspect and in a plaintive tone, “very sick.” The poor
fellow had been suffering much from the tooth-ache, and he wished to
have it extracted. He sat down, and placing his hands together, and
interlocking his fingers he evinced, during the operation, much stoicism
mingled with an interesting resignation. After the tooth was removed, he
asked for whiskey; and immediately upon drinking it gravely marched off,
leaving his tooth as the only compensation for the whiskey and surgical
aid.
In going down the river Detroit, I was so happy as to have the society
of General Macomb, Major M. Capt. W. and Lieut. B.
The river, a mile below the city, is much wider than it is opposite to
that place; and a little further down there is a narrow and marshy
island about four miles in length. Here we landed and refreshed
ourselves from the General’s provision baskets. Upon this island we
found an almost innumerable number of ducks; they were heard in the
grass in every direction. Vast flocks of wild fowl are almost
continually swimming in the river Detroit.
Soon after leaving this island we arrived at Grose Isle.[129] The latter
divides the river into two channels. {136} Its soil appears to be good,
and its timber valuable. Upon this island, situated about three miles
above Malden, there is a small fort in which the United States have
stationed a few troops. The situation is very pleasant; and as a
military post, is of consequence. A little below this place is a
beautiful summer residence belonging to General Macomb, and which, I
believe, is called St. Helena. The outlet to Lake Erie, between Malden
and the adjoining land, is very narrow. Malden itself is a wretched
looking place. It appears, indeed, like a scalp shop. One store, a
warehouse, and a few small buildings constitute the whole of this
celebrated position. I saw no inhabitants there excepting two or three
crippled Indians.
After remaining one night at Grose Isle, I proceeded to Malden, and from
thence entered the lake. During the night the wind was high, and we run
back a considerable way to avoid several islands called the Sisters.
Towards morning, the wind being fair, we continued our course. At
daylight we experienced a gale of wind, and run for Put-in-Bay. Our
Captain was a very experienced seaman, and perfectly understood the
navigation of the lake; but having got among a cluster of little
islands, situated near the bay, he was, for a moment, bewildered. Our
situation was highly interesting. The darkness of the gale seemed to
contend with the dawn; and fancy could almost see it hold the reins of
the car of day. The waves dashed, our sloop ploughed the foam, many
little islands reared, through night, their ragged tops, our Captain
exclaimed, “where are we?” and all was hurly. We were now passing over
the battle waves of the gallant Perry. Our little gunless keel moved
where whole fleets had stormed. In fancy’s ear, the cannon’s roar had
not ceased to reverberate; the undulating wave seemed {137} anxious to
bury the dead; the wind, through our scanty shrouds, whispered in the
ear of death; and the green wave, reddened by battle, greedily sported
around our sides.[130]
Many of the islands near the Bay are not larger than a dwelling house.
Their sides consist of ragged rocks, and on their summits are a few
weather-beaten trees.
The storm continuing, we remained at anchor in Put-in-Bay four days.
During this time I frequently went ashore, and surveyed the island of
this name. Wild fowl are numerous here, and in the woods there are
swine. The island is uninhabited. Its soil and the growth of its timber
are very good. The former abounds with limestone.
This island is rendered interesting by its forming the bay in which our
fleet was moored both before and after its great victory; and also by
its containing the graves of some of those who fell in the engagement.
My visit to these graves excited melancholy reflections. The parade and
confusion of battle had passed; and nothing was heard but the chill
blast, wending its devious way through the rank weeds. So bloody was
this battle, that the victor himself might well have mourned.
It was natural for me here to reflect upon our naval history. During the
Revolution our prowess upon the ocean promised every thing; and in the
late war even the prophecies of philosophy, and the inspirations of
liberty, were distanced. But I must speak of Renown! Where is our
Wasp?[131] _True_ glory was her object; and she returns not for earthly
honours. Langdon and Toscin sleep in France:[132]—they were buds of
fame. Lawrence fell, like Hector, by the shaft of fate.[133] My memory
is full of valour’s sons; but they need not the eulogy of my pen.
In one of my excursions into the woods of Put-in-Bay {138} island, I was
accompanied by my friend Capt. W. of the United States Army, a gentleman
of a scientific and polished mind. Having provided ourselves with some
old clothes, we visited a cave situated about a mile from the bay. This
cave is smaller than some others in the west; but is, nevertheless,
worth a description.
After exploring the woods for some time, we found what we supposed might
be, and what actually was the cave. Its front is situated at the end of
a considerable rise of land of an oval form. The mouth of the cave was
very small; and being covered with sticks and leaves, presented a very
uninviting aspect. After removing the obstructions, we took lights, and
descending about ten feet perpendicularly, came to a rock, the position
of which was that of an inclined plane. This rock is, in its descent,
met by the front of the cave, so as to leave an aperture, near the floor
of it, of only about three feet in length, and eighteen inches in
height. This aperture also was covered with leaves. After removing them,
we lay flat, and crowded ourselves, one to time, into an unknown and
dismal region. As we advanced the cave, gradually, became higher; and at
length we could move in an erect posture. Here we found ourselves in a
spacious apartment, constituting about an acre, and surrounded by
curious petrifactions. Those on the walls were small; but on the floor
of the cave they were large; some of them weighing about thirty pounds.
The latter are, generally of a pyramidical form. At the distance of
about two hundred feet from the mouth of the cave, we came to a
precipice, at the foot of which was a body of deep water. Whilst my
companion sat upon the brink of the precipice, I descended it, and
holding a light in one hand, swam with the other for the purpose of
ascertaining the course and boundaries of this subterranean lake.
{139} In this gloomy, yet interesting cavern, we saw no living thing,
excepting two bats, which were in a torpid state. Whilst exploring the
most distant recesses of the cave, one of our candles was accidentally
extinguished. The extinguishment of our other light would, perhaps, have
been fatal to us. The darkness of this dreary region is palpable. No ray
of nature’s light ever visited it. Its silence too is full of thought.
The slippery step of the traveller, and the stilly drippings of the
slimy concave, yielded a contrast which made silence speak. Our own
appearance interested us. We forgot ourselves, and unconsciously dwelt
upon two ragged Fiends, prying, with taper dim, along the confines of
this doleful place. We saw these beings under the low sides of the cave
knocking off some large petrifactions. We said, who are they?—and almost
shuddered to find they were ourselves.
As soon as the storm ceased we set sail from the Bay, and the next
evening arrived at Erie. In this harbour were several United States’
vessels of considerable magnitude. The banks of the harbour, on the town
side, are high, steep, and romantic; and from them there is an extensive
view of the Lake. The harbour itself is spacious, and the water deep.
At this place the celebrated General Wayne died,[134] upon his return
from his campaign against the Indians. Such was the success of this
great soldier, and such the terror which he inspired among the savages
against whom he fought, that to this day they call him the “_sinews_.”
His mode of proceeding into the country of the enemy ought ever to be
imitated. Indians may always be defeated by good troops, unless when the
latter are ambushed, and surprised. General Wayne proceeded with the
greatest caution during the forepart of the day, and {140} in the
afternoon employed his men in fortifying for the night; the consequence
was, that he avoided every ambuscade, ultimately met the enemy, and gave
them a chastising which made a lasting impression upon their minds.
After reaping many laurels in this campaign, General Wayne was returning
home to enjoy the grateful salutations of his fellow-citizens; but death
arrested him at Erie.—
“The path of glory leads but to the grave.”
After leaving Detroit, I received a letter from the Secretary of the
Lyceum there, informing me of my having, on the evening of my departure,
been admitted an honourary member of that institution. I mention this
fact for the purpose of introducing an anecdote respecting it, which was
communicated to me after my return home, and which afforded me much
amusement.
In passing through the country, in the early stages of my tour, some
weak minded persons, who thought that my excursion was so frought with
danger as to render it presumptuous, were offended by the undertaking;
and adding a little ill-nature to this idea, their invectives were even
more keen than the wintry winds. One of these persons, whose common
sense is like Shakspeare’s grain of wheat in a bushel of chaff; and
whose learning is equalled only by that of the good Mrs. Maleprop,
exclaimed one day, upon seeing some newspaper, which contained an
account of the Pedestrian having been admitted into the Lyceum at
Detroit, “well, they have got him into the mad-house at last!”
Mad-house? said a friend. “Yes”, replied this Xenophen of the age,—“the
mad-house!—the Lyceum!—all the same thing!”
{141} From Erie I proceeded to Waterford, a distance of fourteen miles.
At this place the snow upon the ground was eighteen inches deep. The
spring in the west was very backward. I shall speak upon this topic in
another place.
Waterford is a small village, and is situated on the Creek Le Beuf. At
this place is a block house, which was erected during the old French
war.[135] The Creek Le Beuf is about five miles in length, and about six
rods wide. Between this creek and French Creek, there is a little lake,
covering about ten acres. French Creek is eighty miles long, and about
twenty rods in width. This creek is one of the sources of the Alleghany
river, and enters it near Fort Franklin. The Alleghany river rises on
the west of the mountains of this name; and after running about two
hundred miles meets the Monongahela.
The Creek Le Beuf is very crooked, and French Creek considerably so. The
principal boats upon these and upon the Alleghany river are called
keels. They are constructed like a whale boat, sharp at both ends; their
length is about seventy feet, breadth ten feet, and they are rowed by
two oars at each end. These boats will carry about twenty tons, and are
worth two hundred dollars. At the stern of the boat is a stearing oar,
which moves on a pivot, and extends about twelve feet from the stern.
These boats move down the river with great velocity. Through the
sinuosities of the narrow creek Le Beuf, the oar in the stern, by being
pressed against the banks, gives to the boat a great impetus.
In going up the rivers these boats are poled. The poles are about eight
feet in length, and the bottom of them enters a socket of iron, which
causes the point of the pole to sink immediately. This {142} business is
very laborious, and the progress of the boats slow.
The land near the creek Le Beuf and French Creek, particularly the
former, is low and cold. Wild fowl are here very numerous. The lands on
each side of the Alleghany river, for one hundred and fifty miles above
Pittsburgh, are generally mountainous. The growth of timber here is
principally white oak and chesnut, and in some places pitch pine. There
are on this river some good lands, and some of a very inferior quality.
But some of the best of the Pennsylvania tracts lie in the north-west of
the state.
The banks of the Alleghany river are, in many places, exceedingly high,
steep, and rocky. Whilst moving along the current they appear
stupendous. The bed of this river and of French Creek is stony, and the
water of them very clear. On these rivers are many rapids, over some of
which boats move at the rate of twelve miles an hour. In passing down
the Alleghany the scenery is delightful. The boats move with much
velocity; the country scarcely seems inhabited; the mountains, almost
lost to vision, rise in rude majesty on both sides of the river; the
pellucid aspect of the water; the darting fish; the anxious loon; the
profound solitude, rendered more impressive by the regular dash of the
oar: all these, and many other circumstances, carry the mind back to the
days, when the original occupants of the neighbouring wilds lived under
the simple government of nature, and did not dream of the storm, which
civilization was preparing for them.
On French Creek are situated Meadville, Franklin, and several other
inconsiderable places. Here too are the remains of several old forts. At
Fort Franklin the French formerly kept a garrison.[136] As {143} far
down this river as Meadville the water is still. The principal falls on
this creek and Alleghany river, are Montgomery, Patterson, Amberson,
Nichalson, and Catfish. The creeks and rivers, which enter these waters,
are numerous; but it is not deemed worth while to name them: the
principal, however, of those which enters the Alleghany are Toby’s,
Sandy, Lick, Pine, and Buffalo creeks; and Crooked and Kiskernanetas
rivers.[137] In some places on the Alleghany hills, there are fine
farms. On the river is situated the little village of Armstrong; and
behind the hills stands Lawrencetown.[138] I found marching over these
mountains very laborious; but the prospects from them richly repaid me
for my pains. Here I dwelt upon the situation of this vicinity about the
middle of the seventeenth century; of the wars between our ancestors and
the French and Indians; and of the youthful patriotism and prowess of
our inimitable Washington. At the age of twenty-one, he was employed by
his native State in an enterprise, which required great courage,
prudence, and physical vigour. Whilst this part of the country was
occupied by the French, and inhabited by many hostile tribes of Indians,
he travelled from Will’s Creek, in Virginia, to Fort Du Quesne, situated
at the forks of the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers; and from thence up
the former to the French Fort on the Le Beuf.[139] During a part of this
journey he proceeded on foot, with a gun in his hand and a pack on his
back. This enterprise developed faculties which afterwards saved his
country.
To eulogize this great and good man is in vain. He is so far above our
praise, that we can honour him only in serving that country which he so
much loved. His wisdom and virtue constitute the greatest of human
examples. Our children should early {144} be taught to know, to love,
and to imitate him.
The Alleghany river, near Pittsburgh, presents an expansive aspect. At
this place it meets the Monongahela from the south, and both pour their
waters into the Ohio. In this union there is a silent grandeur.
About two miles above this junction, on the Alleghany, is a small Fort;
and here some troops are stationed. The situation of the Fort is very
retired and interesting.
Pittsburgh lies in the state of Pennsylvania, and is situated on the
point of land formed by the Alleghany and Monongahela. Fort Pitt
occupies the scite of the old Fort Du Quesne; but even the former is now
in ruins.[140] Opposite to Pittsburgh, on the Alleghany, is a
considerable village, and preparation is making for building a bridge
across this part of the river. There are also a considerable number of
buildings on the opposite side of the Monongahela. Immediately back of
these buildings there is a ridge of very high and steep hills, which
contain inexhaustible coal mines. Some coal mines exist also in the
Alleghany hills, and in the banks of the Ohio. Those on the west of the
Monongahela, constitute a horizontal strata six inches thick and
apparently unlimited in its direction through the mountain. This coal is
superior to that of England: it is heavier, and contains a greater
quantity of the bituminous quality. The general price of this article at
Pittsburgh is about six cents a bushel.
The town of Pittsburgh, viewed from the confluence of the two rivers,
presents a contracted and an unfavourable aspect; but from other
situations it appears much better. Its scite is level and rather low;
and the rivers, during their rise, flow for a considerable distance into
the streets. The town {145} is very large. Many of its buildings are of
brick, and are generally of a large size. The streets cross each other
at right angles, but are quite narrow. Owing to the exclusive use of
coal here, both by the manufacturer, and by private families, the whole
town presents a smoky appearance. Even the complexion of the people is
affected by this cause. The business of Pittsburgh is great; but is
generally believed to be declining. This place is engaged in trade, more
or less, with the whole western world; and may be considered the
metropolis of this vast tract of country. It procures its foreign goods,
principally, from Philadelphia and Baltimore; which goods are brought in
waggons across the Alleghany mountains. The distance from these places
to Pittsburgh is about three hundred miles; and the price of conveying
the goods thither by the usual route, is from five to six dollars per
one hundred weight. This place also transacts some little business with
the City of New-York, by the way of the Hudson and Mohawk, Lakes Ontario
and Erie, and the river Alleghany. Provisions in Pittsburgh are,
generally, cheap. Foreign goods, however, are necessarily high.
This place is celebrated for its manufactories, and will become the
Birmingham of America. Here, one may see the surprising progress, which
the people of this country are making in mechanics of almost every kind,
both as it respects invention and workmanship. Indeed it is evident,
that in the United States the elements of the body politic are all in
the most healthful action, and that we are rapidly approaching to a
glorious manhood. We have only, in our progress, to guard against two
evils:—an undue attachment to money, and too little regard for sound
morals and solid learning. The extraordinary attention, which has of
late been paid to the {146} moral and religious education of children,
promises to furnish for the future service of our country, men of _true_
wisdom;—“men who will fear God and hate covetousness.”
Speaking merely as a politician, I may say, that a due regard to this
part of education is the great desideratum in civil government. But in
relation to a future state the subject is of infinitely greater
consequence. Our sabbath schools, in which children are taught to commit
to memory the Sacred Oracles, have been attended with such wonderful
success, that they appear to be forming a new epoch in the progress of
the Christian Religion. This is a field in which thousands can do much
good. Heaven has thus opened a new vineyard, in which almost any one may
remove the noxious weed, and nourish the tender plant.
Ship and boat building is actively carried on at Pittsburgh; but of late
no vessels of a large tonnage have been made, on account of the dangers
incident to getting them down the Ohio. Very few of the vessels and
boats built here ever return up the river so far as this place; and of
course there is here a constant demand for new vessels. Strangers from
every part of the sea board, generally take this place in their way to
the West. Emigrants from every quarter are continually arriving here,
and stand in need of boats of various kinds to transport their goods and
their families. A great many foreign emigrants, particularly those of
them who are mechanics, are often arriving from New-York, Philadelphia,
and Baltimore, to Pittsburgh; and from the latter place some of them
pass on to the manufacturing establishments further west.
The sects of christians in Pittsburgh are very numerous. The Christian
Religion is so momentous, and, _in some respects_, so mysterious a
subject, that it {147} is perfectly natural for people, in looking
beyond those of its principles, which are easily understood, and which
are sufficient to make plain before us the path of duty, to be divided
in opinion respecting it. This would be the effect, in a greater or less
degree, upon all abstract questions, or upon questions involving
principles beyond the reach of our intellectual vision. The human mind
too, is prone to dispute upon unessential points; and here, principally,
arises pride of opinion, and the spirit of persecution.—There is nothing
in the questions themselves to ennoble the mind, or to give force and
dignity to its investigations. It is upon trifles, that even great minds
become passionate.
Nearly all the sects of christians subscribe to the doctrines of faith,
repentance, holiness, and charity; of course the great variety of sects
do not call in question the consistency of God’s holy word.