severely from the influence of violent storms of wind, some of which
have been known to traverse nearly the whole extent of the United
States, and to leave such deep impressions in their wake as will not
easily be forgotten. Having witnessed one of these awful phenomena, in
all its grandeur, I shall attempt to describe it for your sake, kind
reader, and for your sake only; the recollection of that astonishing
revolution of the ethereal element even now bringing with it so
disagreeable a sensation that I feel as if about to be affected by a
sudden stoppage of the circulation of my blood.
I had left the village of Shawanee, situated on the banks of the Ohio,
on my return from Henderson, which is also situated on the banks of the
same beautiful stream. The weather was pleasant, and I thought not
warmer than usual at that season. My horse was jogging quietly along,
and my thoughts were, for once at least in the course of my life,
entirely engaged in commercial speculations. I had forded Highland
Creek, and was on the eve of entering a tract of bottom land or valley
that lay between it and Canoe Creek, when on a sudden I remarked a great
difference in the aspect of the heavens. A hazy thickness had overspread
the country, and I for some time expected an earthquake; but my horse
exhibited no propensity to stop and prepare for such an occurrence. I
had nearly arrived at the verge of the valley, when I thought fit to
stop near a brook, and dismounted to quench the thirst which had come
upon me.
I was leaning on my knees, with my lips about to touch the water, when,
from my proximity to the earth, I heard a distant murmuring sound of an
extraordinary nature. I drank, however, and as I rose on my feet, looked
towards the southwest, where I observed a yellowish oval spot, the
appearance of which was quite new to me. Little time was left me for
consideration, as the next moment a smart breeze began to agitate the
taller trees. It increased to an unexpected height, and already the
smaller branches and twigs were seen falling in a slanting direction
towards the ground. Two minutes had scarcely elapsed, when the whole
forest before me was in fearful motion. Here and there, where one tree
pressed against another, a creaking noise was produced, similar to that
occasioned by the violent gusts which sometimes sweep over the country.
Turning instinctively towards the direction from which the wind blew, I
saw to my great astonishment that the noblest trees of the forest bent
their lofty heads for a while, and, unable to stand against the blast,
were falling into pieces. First the branches were broken off with a
crackling noise; then went the upper parts of the massy trunks; and in
many places whole trees of gigantic size were falling entire to the
ground. So rapid was the progress of the storm that before I could think
of taking measures to insure my safety the hurricane was passing
opposite the place where I stood. Never can I forget the scene which at
that moment presented itself. The tops of the trees were seen moving in
the strangest manner, in the central current of the tempest, which
carried along with it a mingled mass of twigs and foliage that
completely obscured the view. Some of the largest trees were seen
bending and writhing under the gale; others suddenly snapped across; and
many, after a momentary resistance, fell uprooted to the earth. The mass
of branches, twigs, foliage, and dust that moved through the air was
whirled onwards like a cloud of feathers, and on passing disclosed a
wide space filled with fallen trees, naked stumps, and heaps of
shapeless ruins which marked the path of the tempest. This space was
about a fourth of a mile in breadth, and to my imagination resembled the
dried up bed of the Mississippi, with its thousands of planters and
sawyers strewed in the sand and inclined in various degrees. The
horrible noise resembled that of the great cataracts of Niagara, and, as
it howled along in the track of the desolating tempest, produced a
feeling in my mind which it were impossible to describe.
The principal force of the hurricane was now over, although millions of
twigs and small branches that had been brought from a great distance
were seen following the blast, as if drawn onwards by some mysterious
power. They even floated in the air for some hours after, as if
supported by the thick mass of dust that rose high above the ground. The
sky had now a greenish lurid hue, and an extremely disagreeable
sulphurous odor was diffused in the atmosphere. I waited in amazement,
having sustained no material injury, until nature at length resumed her
wonted aspect. For some moments I felt undetermined whether I should
return to Morgantown, or attempt to force my way through the wrecks of
the tempest. My business, however, being of an urgent nature, I ventured
into the path of the storm, and after encountering innumerable
difficulties, succeeded in crossing it. I was obliged to lead my horse
by the bridle, to enable him to leap over the fallen trees, whilst I
scrambled over or under them in the best way I could, at times so hemmed
in by the broken tops and tangled branches as almost to become
desperate. On arriving at my house, I gave an account of what I had
seen, when, to my astonishment, I was told there had been very little
wind in the neighborhood, although in the streets and gardens many
branches and twigs had fallen in a manner which excited great surprise.
Many wondrous accounts of the devastating effects of this hurricane were
circulated in the country after its occurrence. Some log houses, we were
told, had been overturned and their inmates destroyed. One person
informed me that a wire sifter had been conveyed by the gust to a
distance of many miles. Another had found a cow lodged in the fork of a
large half-broken tree. But, as I am disposed to relate only what I have
myself seen, I shall not lead you into the region of romance, but shall
content myself with saying that much damage was done by this awful
visitation. The valley is yet a desolate place, overgrown with briers
and bushes, thickly entangled amidst the tops and trunks of the fallen
trees, and is the resort of ravenous animals, to which they betake
themselves when pursued by man, or after they have committed their
depredations on the farms of the surrounding district. I have crossed
the path of the storm at a distance of a hundred miles from the spot
where I witnessed its fury, and again, four hundred miles farther off,
in the State of Ohio. Lastly, I observed traces of its ravages on the
summits of the mountains connected with the Great Pine Forest of
Pennsylvania, three hundred miles beyond the place last mentioned. In
all these different parts it appeared to me not to have exceeded a
quarter of a mile in breadth.
COLONEL BOONE
Daniel Boone, or, as he was usually called in the Western country,
Colonel Boone, happened to spend a night with me under the same roof,
more than twenty years ago. We had returned from a shooting excursion,
in the course of which his extraordinary skill in the management of the
rifle had been fully displayed. On retiring to the room appropriated to
that remarkable individual and myself for the night, I felt anxious to
know more of his exploits and adventures than I did, and accordingly
took the liberty of proposing numerous questions to him. The stature and
general appearance of this wanderer of the western forests approached
the gigantic. His chest was broad and prominent; his muscular powers
displayed themselves in every limb; his countenance gave indication of
his great courage, enterprise, and perseverance; and when he spoke, the
very motion of his lips brought the impression that whatever he uttered
could not be otherwise than strictly true. I undressed, whilst he merely
took off his hunting shirt, and arranged a few folds of blankets on the
floor, choosing rather to lie there, as he observed, than on the softest
bed. When we had both disposed of ourselves, each after his own fashion,
he related to me the following account of his powers of memory, which I
lay before you, kind reader, in his own words, hoping that the
simplicity of his style may prove interesting to you.
"I was once," said he, "on a hunting expedition on the banks of the
Green River, when the lower parts of this State (Kentucky) were still in
the hands of nature, and none but the sons of the soil were looked upon
as its lawful proprietors. We Virginians had for some time been waging a
war of intrusion upon them, and I, amongst the rest, rambled through the
woods in pursuit of their race as I now would follow the tracks of any
ravenous animal. The Indians outwitted me one dark night, and I was as
unexpectedly as suddenly made a prisoner by them. The trick had been
managed with great skill; for no sooner had I extinguished the fire of
my camp, and laid me down to rest, in full security as I thought, than I
felt myself seized by an indistinguishable number of hands, and was
immediately pinioned, as if about to be led to the scaffold for
execution. To have attempted to be refractory would have proved useless
and dangerous to my life; and I suffered myself to be removed from my
camp to theirs, a few miles distant, without uttering even a word of
complaint. You are aware, I dare say, that to act in this manner was the
best policy, as you understand that, by so doing, I proved to the
Indians at once that I was born and bred as fearless of death as any of
themselves.
"When we reached the camp, great rejoicings were exhibited. Two squaws
and a few pappooses appeared particularly delighted at the sight of me,
and I was assured, by very unequivocal gestures and words, that, on the
morrow, the mortal enemy of the Red-skins would cease to live. I never
opened my lips, but was busy contriving some scheme which might enable
me to give the rascals the slip before dawn. The women immediately fell
a-searching about my hunting-shirt for whatever they might think
valuable, and, fortunately for me, soon found my flask filled with
_monongahela_ (that is, reader, strong whiskey). A terrific grin was
exhibited on their murderous countenances, while my heart throbbed with
joy at the anticipation of their intoxication. The crew immediately
began to beat their bellies and sing, as they passed the bottle from
mouth to mouth. How often did I wish the flask ten times its size, and
filled with aqua-fortis! I observed that the squaws drank more freely
than the warriors, and again my spirits were about to be depressed, when
the report of a gun was heard at a distance. The Indians all jumped on
their feet. The singing and drinking were both brought to a stand, and I
saw, with inexpressible joy, the men walk off to some distance and talk
to the squaws. I knew that they were consulting about me, and I foresaw
that in a few moments the warriors would go to discover the cause of the
gun having been fired so near their camp. I expected that the squaws
would be left to guard me. Well, sir, it was just so. They returned; the
men took up their guns and walked away. The squaws sat down again, and
in less than five minutes had my bottle up to their dirty mouths,
gurgling down their throats the remains of the whiskey.
"With what pleasure did I see them becoming more and more drunk, until
the liquor took such hold of them that it was quite impossible for these
women to be of any service. They tumbled down, rolled about, and began
to snore: when I, having no other chance of freeing myself from the
cords that fastened me, rolled over and over towards the fire, and,
after a short time, burned them asunder. I rose on my feet, stretched my
stiffened sinews, snatched up my rifle, and, for once in my life, spared
that of Indians. I now recollect how desirous I once or twice felt to
lay open the skulls of the wretches with my tomahawk; but when I again
thought upon killing beings unprepared and unable to defend themselves,
it looked like murder without need, and I gave up the idea.
"But, sir, I felt determined to mark the spot, and walking to a thrifty
ash sapling, I cut out of it three large chips, and ran off. I soon
reached the river, soon crossed it, and threw myself deep into the
cane-brakes, imitating the tracks of an Indian with my feet, so that no
chance might be left for those from whom I had escaped to overtake me.
"It is now nearly twenty years since this happened, and more than five
since I left the Whites' settlements, which I might probably never have
visited again had I not been called on as a witness in a law-suit that
was pending in Kentucky, and which I really believe would never have
been settled had I not come forward and established the beginning of a
certain boundary line. This is the story, sir.
"Mr. ---- moved from Old Virginia into Kentucky, and having a large
tract granted to him in the new State, laid claim to a certain parcel of
land adjoining Green River, and, as chance would have it, took for one
of his corners the very ash-tree on which I had made my mark, and
finished his survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as it is
expressed in the deed, 'at an Ash marked by three distinct notches of
the tomahawk of a white man.'
"The tree had grown much, and the bark had covered the marks; but,
somehow or other, Mr. ---- heard from some one all that I have already
said to you, and thinking that I might remember the spot alluded to in
the deed, but which was no longer discoverable, wrote for me to come and
try at least to find the place or the tree. His letter mentioned that
all my expenses should be paid, and not caring much about once more
going back to Kentucky, I started and met Mr. ----. After some
conversation, the affair with the Indians came to my recollection. I
considered for a while, and began to think that after all I could find
the very spot, as well as the tree, if it was yet standing.
"Mr. ---- and I mounted our horses, and off we went to the Green River
Bottoms. After some difficulties, for you must be aware, sir, that great
changes have taken place in those woods, I found at last the spot where
I had crossed the river, and, waiting for the moon to rise, made for
the course in which I thought the ash-tree grew. On approaching the
place, I felt as if the Indians were there still, and as if I was still
a prisoner among them. Mr. ---- and I camped near what I conceived the
spot, and waited until the return of day.
"At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and, after a good deal of
musing, thought that an ash-tree then in sight must be the very one on
which I had made my mark. I felt as if there could be no doubt of it,
and mentioned my thought to Mr. ----. 'Well, Colonel Boone,' said he,
'if you think so, I hope it may prove true, but we must have some
witnesses; do you stay here about, and I will go and bring some of the
settlers whom I know.' I agreed. Mr. ---- trotted off, and I, to pass
the time, rambled about to see if a Deer was still living in the land.
But ah! sir, what a wonderful difference thirty years makes in the
country! Why, at the time when I was caught by the Indians, you would
not have walked out in any direction for more than a mile without
shooting a buck or a Bear. There were then thousands of Buffaloes on the
hills in Kentucky; the land looked as if it never would become poor; and
to hunt in those days was a pleasure indeed. But when I was left to
myself on the banks of Green River, I dare say for the last time in my
life, a few _signs_ only of Deer were to be seen, and as to a Deer
itself, I saw none.
"Mr. ---- returned, accompanied by three gentlemen. They looked upon me
as if I had been Washington himself, and walked to the ash-tree, which I
now called my own, as if in quest of a long-lost treasure. I took an axe
from one of them, and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no signs were
to be seen. So I cut again until I thought it was time to be cautious,
and I scraped and worked away with my butcher knife until I _did_ come
to where my tomahawk had left an impression in the wood. We now went
regularly to work, and scraped at the tree with care, until three hacks
as plain as any three notches ever were, could be seen. Mr. ---- and the
other gentlemen were astonished, and, I must allow, I was as much
surprised as pleased myself. I made affidavit of this remarkable
occurrence in presence of these gentlemen. Mr. ---- gained his cause. I
left Green River forever, and came to where we now are; and, sir, I wish
you a good night."
I trust, kind reader, that when I again make my appearance with another
volume of Ornithological Biography, I shall not have to search in vain
for the impression which I have made, but shall have the satisfaction of
finding its traces still unobliterated. I now withdraw, and, in the
words of the noted wanderer of the Western wilds, "wish you a good
night."
NATCHEZ IN 1820
One clear, frosty morning in December I approached in my flatboat the
city of Natchez. The shores were crowded with boats of various kinds,
laden with the produce of the Western country; and there was a bustle
about them such as you might see at a general fair, each person being
intent on securing the advantage of a good market. Yet the scene was far
from being altogether pleasing, for I was yet "under the hill;" but on
removing from the Lower Town I beheld the cliffs on which the city,
properly so called, has been built. Vultures unnumbered flew close along
the ground on expanded pinions, searching for food; large pines and
superb magnolias here and there raised their evergreen tops towards the
skies; while on the opposite shores of the Mississippi vast alluvial
beds stretched along, and the view terminated with the dense forest.
Steamers moved rapidly on the broad waters of the great stream; the
sunbeams fell with a peculiarly pleasant effect on the distant objects;
and as I watched the motions of the White-headed Eagle while pursuing
the Fishing Hawk, I thought of the wonderful ways of that Power to whom
I too owe my existence.
Before reaching the land I had observed that several saw-mills were
placed on ditches or narrow canals, along which the water rushed from
the inner swamps towards the river, and by which the timber is conveyed
to the shore; and, on inquiring afterwards, I found that one of those
temporary establishments had produced a net profit of upwards of six
thousand dollars in a single season.
There is much romantic scenery about Natchez. The Lower Town forms a
most remarkable contrast with the Upper; for in the former the houses
were not regularly built, being generally dwellings formed of the
abandoned flatboats, placed in rows, as if with the view of forming a
long street. The inhabitants formed a medley which it is beyond my power
to describe; hundreds of laden carts and other vehicles jogged along the
declivity between the two towns; but when, by a very rude causeway, I
gained the summit, I was relieved by the sight of an avenue of those
beautiful trees called here the Pride of China. In the Upper Town I
found the streets all laid off at right angles to each other, and
tolerably well lined with buildings constructed with painted bricks or
boards.
The agricultural richness of the surrounding country was shown by the
heaps of cotton bales and other produce that encumbered the streets. The
churches, however, did not please me; but as if to make up for this, I
found myself unexpectedly accosted by my relative, Mr. Berthoud, who
presented me with letters from my wife and sons. These circumstances put
me in high spirits, and we proceeded towards the best hotel in the
place, that of Mr. Garnier. The house, which was built on the Spanish
plan, and of great size, was surrounded by large verandas over-looking a
fine garden, and stood at a considerable distance from any other. At
this period the city of Natchez had a population not exceeding three
thousand individuals. I have not visited it often since, but I have no
doubt that, like all the other towns in the western district of our
country, it has greatly increased. It possessed a bank, and the mail
arrived there thrice in the week from all parts of the Union.
The first circumstance that strikes a stranger is the mildness of the
temperature. Several vegetables as pleasing to the eye as agreeable to
the palate, and which are seldom seen in our Eastern markets before May,
were here already in perfection. The Pewee Fly-catcher had chosen the
neighborhood of the city for its winter quarters, and our deservedly
famed Mocking-bird sang and danced gratis to every passer by. I was
surprised to see the immense number of Vultures that strode along the
streets or slumbered on the roofs. The country for many miles inland is
gently undulated. Cotton is produced abundantly, and wealth and
happiness have taken up their abode under most of the planters' roofs,
beneath which the wearied traveller or the poor wanderer in search of a
resting-place is sure to meet with comfort and relief. Game is abundant,
and the free Indians were wont in those days to furnish the markets with
ample supplies of venison and Wild Turkey. The Mississippi, which bathes
the foot of the hill some hundred feet below the town, supplies the
inhabitants with fish of various kinds. The greatest deficiency is that
of water, which for common purposes is dragged on sledges or wheels from
the river, while that used for drinking is collected in tanks from the
roofs, and becomes very scarce during protracted droughts. Until of late
years the orange-tree bore fruit in the open air; but, owing to the
great change that has taken place in the temperature, severe though
transient frosts occasionally occur, which now prevent this plant from
coming to perfection in the open air.
The remains of an old Spanish fort are still to be seen at a short
distance from the city. If I am correctly informed, about two years
previous to this visit of mine a large portion of the hill near it gave
way, sank about a hundred feet, and carried many of the houses of the
Lower Town into the river. This, it would appear, was occasioned by the
quicksand running springs that flow beneath the strata of mixed pebbles
and clay of which the hill is composed. The part that has subsided
presents the appearance of a basin or bowl, and is used as a depot for
the refuse of the town, on which the Vultures feed when they can get
nothing better. There it was that I saw a White-headed Eagle chase one
of those filthy birds, knock it down, and feast on the entrails of a
horse which the Carrion Crow had partly swallowed.
I did not meet at Natchez many individuals fond of ornithological
pursuits, but the hospitality with which I was received was such as I am
not likely to forget. Mr. Gamier subsequently proved an excellent friend
to me, as you may find elsewhere recorded. Of another individual, whose
kindness to me is indelibly impressed on my heart, I would say a few
words, although he was such a man as Fenelon alone could describe.
Charles Carre was of French origin, the son of a nobleman of the old
regime. His acquirements and the benevolence of his disposition were
such that when I first met him I could not help looking upon him as
another Mentor. Although his few remaining locks were gray, his
countenance still expressed the gayety and buoyant feelings of youth. He
had the best religious principles; for his heart and his purse were ever
open to the poor. Under his guidance it was that I visited the whole
neighborhood of Natchez; for he was acquainted with all its history,
from the period at which it had first come under the power of the
Spaniards to that of their expulsion from the country, its possession by
the French, and subsequently by ourselves. He was also well versed in
the Indian languages, spoke French with the greatest purity, and was a
religious poet. Many a pleasant hour have I spent in his company; but
alas! he has gone the way of all the earth!
THE LOST PORTFOLIO