Departure from Shippingsport--Velocity of the
current--Troy--Owensville--Indigence of the
hunting emigrants--Mounds--Evansville--The Diamond
island--Shawneetown--Grandeur of the river and the uncultivated
state of the surrounding country--Fort Massac--Arrival at the
mouth of the Ohio--Delayed by the ice of the Mississippi--A
visit from the Delaware and Shawnee Indians--Observations on
their mutual jealousy and improvidence.
On the 7th, towards evening, I left Shippingsport in the flat-boat
which I had purchased, accompanied by an elderly gentleman and his
son, who intended to proceed to New Orleans. The river had now taken
a sudden and favourable rise of eight or ten feet perpendicular.
We floated all night, keeping an alternate watch, and before the
expiration of 24 hours, on the 8th, the current alone had carried
us without labour near 80 miles! We accompanied another vessel of
the same kind, and, for mutual convenience, our boats, according to
custom, were lashed together side by side, thus also facilitating our
progress by obtaining a greater scope of the current.
9th.] We continued at the same rate, floating along without any
labour, except that of occasionally rowing out from the shore, or
avoiding submerged trunks of trees, called snags or sawyers, as they
are either stationary or moveable with the action of the current; by
the French they are called _chicos_. In the night {38} we passed the
town of _Troy_, an insignificant handful of log-cabins, dignified by
this venerable name; here we stopped a few minutes to unload some
salt, which, in consequence of the scarcity, incident to the low
stage of water, sold at four dollars per bushel. Nearly all the salt
which supplies this country descends the Kanhaway.
On the 10th we arrived at Owensville,[42] more commonly called
Yellow Banks, from the ochraceous appearance of the argillaceous
friable bank of the river. This is another insignificant cluster
of log-cabins, and the seat of a county. Flour sold here at 10
dollars per barrel. In consequence of the want of mills, they depend
altogether on the upper country for their supplies of this important
article. Mills are much wanted, and, in order even to obtain
corn-meal, every one has to invent something of the kind for himself.
At this place the store-keepers were busily collecting pork for the
market of New Orleans, at the rate of five dollars per hundred, in
exchange for dry-goods and groceries. No other produce appeared in
this place. No orchards are yet planted, and apples were worth one
dollar and a half the bushel.
We floated as usual till towards midnight, but the north-west wind
arising, at length put a stop to our progress. Having proceeded about
18 miles below Owensville, we endeavoured to land on the Kentucky
side, but, in the attempt, ran an imminent risk of grounding on an
extensive bar; with considerable labour we rowed our unmanageable
flat to the opposite shore, where we found deep water, and a good
harbour from the wind.
11th.] About day-break we were accosted by a backwoods neighbour,
anxious for a dram of whiskey, which we had foreseen and provided
for. We were detained all day by the wind, and the hunters went out
in quest of turkeys. The improvidence of these hunting farmers, is
truly remarkable: annually {39} mortgaging their produce for the
meanest luxuries of civilized life; still destitute of flour, of the
produce of the orchard, of country spirits, and, indeed, of coffee
and sugar for a great part of the year; at the same time, that they
might become independent, with even moderate industry.
Potatoes are very indifferent in this country, but pulse and all
kinds of grain excellent and productive.
Here, at Mountplace [43] as it is called, there are two or three
Indian mounds, upon one of which our visitor had built his house,
and in digging had discovered abundance of human bones, as well as
several stone pipes, and fragments of earthen ware.
12th.] About 9 o’clock, we pushed out and proceeded. Towards
evening, 15 miles from Hendersonville,[44] in Indiana, we passed a
small town called Evansville,[45] apparently a county seat, by the
appearance of a court house. We continued to float throughout the
night, which was very fine and moonlight, but cold, the thermometer
being down at 20°. We passed Henderson in the night, and, about
5 o’clock in the morning of the 13th, came in sight of the large
and beautiful broad island, called the Diamond, with the river, on
either side of it, apparently a mile in breadth. At two intervals
of 10 miles each, we had passed two other islands, and about one
o’clock, found ourselves carried by good fortune, and at an easy
rate, opposite to the Wabash[46] and its island, which mark the
commencement of the territory of Illinois.
From Owensville, cane begins to be tall and abundant. The prospect
of an approaching storm caused us to come to shore at an early hour,
where we remained for the night, having our boat tied to a stout
branch or stem of the _Borya acuminata_,[47] which grows here in
abundance, and is nearly as thorny as a {40} sloe bush, sending up
many straight stems from the same root.
14th.] We rode over to Shawneetown,[48] a handful of log cabins,
with some of them shingled, commanding an agreeable view of the
river, but not situated beyond the reach of occasional inundation. I
learned, on inquiry, that Mr. Birkbeck’s settlement[49] was not so
unhealthy as had been reported, and that it was continually receiving
accessions of foreigners. After floating some distance, we came up
with three other flat boats, and lashing to them proceeded all night.
The river is here very wide and magnificent, and checquered with many
islands. The banks at Battery Rock, Rock in the Cave,[50] and other
places, are bold and rocky, with bordering cliffs. The occidental
wilderness appears here to retain its primeval solitude; its gloomy
forests are yet unbroken by the hand of man, they are only penetrated
by the wandering hunter, and the roaming savage.
15th and 16th.] Got down below Fort Massac,[51] and remained ashore
most part of the night, being detained by the wind. On the night
and morning of the 15th, the thermometer fell to 10°. In a cypress
swamp, near to the shore, grew the _Gleditsia monosperma_ and the
_Cephalanthus_, with pubescent leaves and branchlets, which grows in
Georgia and Louisiana, also the _Asclepias parviflora_.
17th.] Between 2 and 3 o’clock in the afternoon, we arrived at the
mouth of the Ohio, and were considerably mortified on perceiving the
Mississippi to be full of floating ice. Governed by the conduct of
the boats which we had for three days accompanied, we came to on the
Kentucky shore, and remained in company with several other boats,
this and the whole of the following day.
The summit of the bank, at the foot of which we had landed, was
surmounted by an almost impenetrable and sempervirent cane brake;
we measured several {41} canes upwards of 30 feet in height. These
wilds afford but little gratification to the botanist, their extreme
darkness excluding the existence of nearly every herbaceous plant.
Among the trees, we still continue to observe the coffee bean
(_Gymnocladus canadensis_), now loaded with legumes, the seeds of
which, when parched, are agreeable to eat, but produce a substitute
for coffee greatly inferior to the _Cichorium_.
The whole country here, on both sides of the Mississippi and the
Ohio, remains uninhabited in consequence of inundation, and abounds
with various kinds of game, but particularly deer and bear, turkeys,
geese, and swans, with hosts of other aquatic fowls; though, with the
exception of the white pelican, they are such as commonly exist in
many other parts of the Union.
While amusing ourselves on the 17th, we were visited by a couple
of the Delaware Indians, and shortly after by a hunting party of
Shawnees,[52] who reside some miles west of St. Louis. I invited
one of them into our cabin, and prevailed upon him to take supper,
with which he appeared to be well satisfied and grateful. On the
following day, a number of the Shawnees came with our evening guest,
and desired to purchase gun-powder. They behaved with civility,
and almost refused to taste of spirits, but their reluctance was
at length overcome by some of our neighbours, and the night was
passed at their camp with yells and riot. Although the Delawares and
Shawnees are proximately allied to each other, yet we perceive the
existence of that jealousy among them, which has ever been so fatal
to the interest of the aborigines, from the conquest of Cortes to
the present moment. The Delawares cautioned me against the Shawnees,
among whom they were continually hunting, and stigmatized them as
rogues; I found them, however, all equally honest in their dealings,
as far as I had any intercourse with them; still the history {42}
of the Shawnees, on many occasions, has long proved the truth of
the character which is given of them by the Delawares. Scarcely
any of the Indian tribes have migrated so often and so far, as the
restless and intriguing Shawnees; who, since their first discovery
on the banks of the Savannah, in Georgia, have, in the space of a
century, successively migrated through the western states to the
further bank of the Mississippi. Ever flying from the hateful circle
of civilized society, which, probably in their own defence, they
have repeatedly scourged, so as, indeed, to endanger their safety;
averse to agriculture and systematic labour, they still depend upon
the precarious bounty of the chase for their rude subsistence.
Retreating into the forests of the western interior, according to
their own acknowledgment destitute of lands, they are reduced to the
misery of craving the favour of hunting ground from the Cherokees and
Osages,[53] excepting the uninhabitable wilds of the Mississippi,
which, as in former times, still continue the common range of every
tribe of native hunters.
These Indians possess the same symbolical or pantomimic language,
as that which is employed by most of the nations with which I have
become acquainted. It appears to be a compact invented by necessity,
which gives that facility to communication denied to oral speech.
FOOTNOTES:
[42] Now Owensborough, seat of Daviess County, Kentucky. The original
name of the place was Rossborough, but it was rechristened in honor
of Abraham Owen, who fell at Tippecanoe. The shore from which the
name Yellow Banks was derived, is from twelve to twenty feet in
height. The undermining of these banks by the river frequently
engulfs trees, and sometimes even drives people from their
dwellings.-ED.
[43] Mountplace is not shown on modern maps. From the distances given
by Nuttall, the site must be quite near Newburg, Indiana, opposite
Scuffletown, Kentucky.-ED.
[44] Nuttall must mean Henderson, Kentucky, the words “in Indiana”
referring to the location of Evansville, about twelve miles above.
Henderson, incorporated in 1810, is the seat of Henderson County,
and was at this time Audubon’s residence; it was in 1818 that the
botanist Rafinesque visited him there. See note 175, in Cuming’s
_Tour_, volume iv of our series.-ED.
[45] Evansville, the seat of Vanderburgh County, Indiana, was named
for General Robert M. Evans, of Gibson County, Indiana. It was
founded (1814) on ground donated by Hugh McGary, famous as a Kentucky
pioneer, who had for several years possessed lands in this region.
McGary was one of the leaders in the disastrous Battle of the Blue
Licks. See Cuming’s _Tour_ in our volume iv, note 120.-ED.
[46] For sketch of Wabash River, see Croghan’s _Journals_, in our
volume i, note 107.-ED.
[47] Now _Forestiera acuminata_.--NUTTALL.
[48] For sketch of the site of Shawneetown, see Croghan’s _Journals_,
volume i of our series, note 108.--ED.
[49] On Birkbeck, see various references in our volume x.--ED.
[50] Rock-in-the-cave (Cave-in-Rock). See Cuming’s _Tour_, in our
volume iv, note 180.--ED.
[51] For sketch of Fort Massac, see André Michaux’s _Travels_, volume
iii of our series, note 139.--ED.
[52] On the Shawnee, see Weiser’s _Journal_, in our volume i, note
13.--ED.
[53] See _ibid._, note 33, for the Cherokee; for the Osage, see
Bradbury’s _Travels_, our volume v, notes 22, 107.--ED.
{43} CHAPTER IV
Embark amidst the ice of the Mississippi--Run aground on
Wolf’s island in attempting to land--relieved from this
situation--but find ourselves again involved in it, and are
imposed upon by the extortion of a neighbouring voyager--Pass
the Iron banks--Cypress--Solitude of the country--New
Madrid--Oscillations of the earth still frequent--Point
Pleasant--Vestiges of the great earthquake--The Little
Prairie settlement almost destroyed by it--The Canadian
reach--A dangerous and difficult pass of the river--The
first Chicasaw Bluffs--Additional danger and uncertainty of
the navigation--Stratification of the Bluff--A dangerous
accident--The second Chicasaw Bluffs--Observations on their
stratification.
19th.] This morning, after breakfast, our more than usually timid
neighbours and ourselves ventured into the floating ice of the
Mississippi, which we soon found to be less formidable than we
had imagined, though still not without some danger of drifting
imperceptibly or unavoidably upon some sunken tree, of which there
are no small abundance throughout the bed of the Mississippi. Carried
upon these by the rapid current, our boats might be staved or
entirely overturned, accidents which not infrequently happen to those
who give way to negligence or incaution.
About half an hour before sun-set, our company came to alongside
a breaking sand-bar, where lay also two other boats; governed by
their example we attempted to land, but floated by the current to
a distance below, and here, unfortunately, attempting to make a
landing, and trusting too confidently to the lightness of our boat,
we were instantly carried upon a shallow and miry bar. I was sensible
of the dilemma {44} into which we had fallen, and lost no time to
plunge into the water, though at the point of freezing, attempting,
but in vain, to float off the boat by a lever. The effort was beyond
my strength, and after remaining in the water nearly an hour, I
had reluctantly to submit to our situation. At length, two boatmen
offered their assistance, for the consideration of five dollars,
with which I complied, and in a few moments we again floated. They
took us in the dark about 100 yards further down, and there made a
landing. I still felt suspicious of our situation, notwithstanding
their assurances of safety: and at day-light, we found ourselves
(in consequence of the rapid falling of the river) as far as ever
grounded upon the bar; to obviate which, all our strength and
ingenuity availed nothing. The boatmen also, who had assisted us the
preceding night, and put us off our guard by false assurances, now
passed us with indifference, and denied us the assistance which they
had promised. We immediately commenced unloading, and had proceeded
pretty far in our labour, when we were visited by the owner of a
neighbouring boat, who, pretending to commiserate our situation,
offered to assist us gratuitously; and hearing how we had been
cheated out of five dollars, expressed his dislike at any boatman
having acted with such want of fellow-feeling. We had scarcely time
to breakfast, before our yankees arrived with two skiffs; and one of
them now assured us that we should never be able to get off until the
rise of the river; though, as appeared in the sequel, merely with the
friendly view of putting a good price upon his services. The other,
instead of the gratuitous assistance which he had offered, made a
tender of his services at three dollars. At length, like genuine
Arabs, they demanded the value of eight dollars, with which I was
reluctantly obliged to comply. After about ten minutes further
unloading, a lever placed under the bow, set us readily afloat {45}
in one minute; so much had these kind gentlemen deceived us, as to
our real situation. They now also refused to fulfil the bargain
of assisting us to reload, until brought to some sense of duty by
remonstrance.--I shall not indeed soon forget Wolf’s island, and its
harbour of sharpers.
20th.] The day was far advanced when we got off, and after floating
10 miles we moored for the night, taking care to have deep water.
The land appears low and uninhabited on every side, except at
the Iron-banks[54] (called Mine au Fer by the French) we passed
yesterday, and which are cliffs of friable and argillaceous earth,
the upper bed being ferruginous, beneath which occurs a very
conspicuously-coloured band of pink clay about 12 inches thick, and
below are white beds of the same material, improperly considered
chalk.
The Cyprus (_Cupressus disticha_) which continues some distance along
the Ohio above its estuary, is here much more common, and always
indicates the presence of annual inundation and consequent swamps
and lagoons, but we do not yet meet with the long moss (_Tillandsia
usneoides_), a plant so characteristic of the prevalence of unhealthy
humidity in the atmosphere.
21st.] We commenced our voyage at the dawn of day, and continued
to float along without interruption. The river here appears truly
magnificent, though generally bordered by the most gloomy solitudes,
in which there are now no visible traces of the abode of man. It
is indeed a sublime contrast to the busy hum of a city, and not
altogether destitute of interest. In the course of the day we passed
a number of capacious islands, but all as they ever were from their
creation, and most of them even without names, the property of any
one who will assume the possession; but they are in general, I
suspect, annually submerged by inundation.
{46} This evening we were 10 miles above New Madrid, and moored
opposite to one of the islands which had been convulsed by the
earthquake of 1811.
22d.] We commenced our voyage early, and arrived before noon at New
Madrid.[55] We found both sides of the river unusually lined with
sunken logs, some stationary and others in motion, and we narrowly
avoided several of considerable magnitude.
New Madrid is an insignificant French hamlet, containing little
more than about 20 log houses and stores miserably supplied, the
goods of which are retailed at exorbitant prices: for example, 18
cents per pound for lead, which costs seven cents at Herculaneum;
salt five dollars per bushel; sugar 31¼ cents per pound; whiskey
one dollar 25 cents per gallon; apples 25 cents per dozen; corn 50
cents per bushel; fresh butter 37½ cents per pound; eggs the same per
dozen; pork six dollars per hundred; beef five dollars. Still the
neighbouring land appears to be of a good quality, but people have
been discouraged from settling in consequence of the earthquakes,
which, besides the memorable one of 1811, are very frequently
experienced, two or three oscillations being sometimes felt in a day.
The United States, in order to compensate those who suffered in their
property by the catastrophe, granted to the settlers an equivalent
of land in other parts of the Territory.
The site of the town, as we learn from La Vega, the historian of
Soto, bears unequivocal marks of an aboriginal station; still
presenting the remains of some low mounds, which, as usual, abound
with fragments of earthen ware.[56]
23d.] We proceeded about six miles, and came to at another small
French hamlet called Point Pleasant. {47} Here I saw the Catalpa
(_Catalpa cordifolia_) in the forests, apparently indigenous, for the
first time in my life, though still contiguous to habitations.
This place and several islands below were greatly convulsed by the
earthquake, and have in consequence been abandoned. I was shown a
considerable chasm still far from being filled up, from whence the
water of the river, as they say, rushed in an elevated column. The
land is here of a superior quality, but flat, and no high grounds
have made their appearance since we passed the Iron-Banks, no rock is
any where to be seen; the banks of the river are deep and friable;
islands and sand-bars, at this stage of the river connected with the
land, are almost innumerable. In the midst of so much plenty provided
by nature, the Canadian squatters[57] are here, as elsewhere, in
miserable circumstances. They raise no wheat, and scarcely enough of
maize for their support. Superfine flour sold here at 11 dollars per
barrel.
The dresses of the men consist of blanket capeaus, buckskin
pantaloons, and mockasins.
25th.] Christmas-day. We left Point Pleasant,[58] and floated along
without encountering any material obstacle, except glancing against
an enormous moving log (or sawyer), which for the moment threw us
into terror. Indeed the submerged trees become more and more numerous.
In the evening we arrived at the remains of the settlement called the
Little Prairie, where there is now only a single house, all the rest,
together with their foundations, having been swept away by the river,
soon after the convulsion of the earthquake, in consequence (as the
inhabitants say, and as they also affirm in New Madrid) of the land
having sunk 10 feet or more below its former level.[59]
{48} 26th.] After continuing about 10 miles below the Little Prairie,
we were detained for the remainder of the day by the commencement of
a storm, which towards evening increased to violence, and continued
so throughout the night. I felt under some apprehension that we
should break our cable, and so be cast away upon some of the many
snags and sawyers which obstruct the river.
27th.] Towards noon, the north-west wind moderating, we continued as
usual, and proceeded about 12 miles through a portion of the river
filled with islands and trunks of trees. No habitations whatever
appeared since we left the Little Prairie.
28th.] Proceeded a few miles, to the head of the 25th island, as
marked in the Pittsburgh Navigator,[60] and remained about four
hours, waiting the abatement of the wind, which did not permit us to
proceed in safety. Our company did not appear inclined to advance
towards the Canadian reach until the following morning; but not
wishing to spend any time unnecessarily, we continued about five
miles further.
29th.] Proceeding at day-break, we looked with apprehension for the
dangers described by the Navigator, but passed along with so little
difficulty as almost to doubt our actual situation. A few miles
below, however, we observed the river contracted within a narrow
space by a spreading sand-bar (or island), and planted almost across
with large and dangerous trunks, some with the tops, and others with
the roots uppermost, in a perpendicular posture. The water broke
upon them with a noise which I had heard distinctly for two miles,
like the cascade of a mill-race, in consequence of the velocity of
the current; with all our caution to avoid them, the boat grazed on
one, which was almost entirely submerged, and we received a terrific
jar. All day we had experienced uninterrupted rain, but it was now
pouring down in torrents. About two o’clock in the afternoon, as
soon {49} as the fog had cleared away, we perceived ourselves again
moving towards the field of danger. I counted, in the space of a
minute, about 100 huge trees fixed in all postures, nearly across the
whole river, so as scarcely to leave room for a passage. We proceeded
towards a bank of willows on the Louisiana side, thinking to land for
the night, in consequence of the unremitting and drenching rain, but
found it impracticable, by reason of the rapid current. At length we
descended to water which had the appearance of an eddy, and here I
was strongly urged to land, in which attempt the boat would, in all
probability, have been sunk amidst a host of snags and half-concealed
trunks which lined the shore. With all our exertions in rowing off,
we but narrowly escaped from being drawn into the impassable channel
of a sand island which spread out into the river, presenting a
portion of water resembling a sunken forest. The only course which we
had left appeared no less a labyrinth of danger, so horribly filled
with black and gigantic trunks of trees, along which the current
foamed with terrific velocity--Scylla on one hand, and more than one
Charybdis on the other. Fortunately, however, our voyage was not
destined to end here, and, after an hour’s drenching amidst torrents
of rain, we at length obtained a landing place about 10 miles above
the first Chicasaw Bluffs.[61] On the point of one of these bars at
Flour island, we observed the wreck of two large flat boats which we
supposed might have been lost during the earthquake. Nothing still
appeared on every hand but houseless solitude, and gloomy silence,
the inundation precluding the possibility of settlement.
30th.] We proceeded as soon as the dense fog this morning would
permit, but could not ascertain our situation any longer by the vague
trifling of the Navigator,{50} and after proceeding some distance
at the beck of the current, came in sight of Flour island. Here the
Navigator says, “the channel is on the right side, but some prefer
the left,” but the very sight of the right-hand channel was to me
sufficient, and finding the main body of the river carrying us to
the left, I felt satisfied to go farther round rather than venture
through such a horrid pass, which indeed resembled a submerged
forest, and through which no flat boat, I should suppose, could ever
proceed with safety, however deep might be the water. That we had got
a passable channel to the left, I was fully satisfied on perceiving
the intersection of the first Chicasaw Bluffs or hills, all the
high lands of the Mississippi being uniformly washed at their base
by a deep and rapid current. Here we landed for a few moments, to
survey those hills, the only ones we had seen since leaving the Iron
banks. The ascent was steep, and the elevation between 2 and 300
feet above the level of the river. These banks appeared to consist
of a stratified, ferruginous, and bluish sandy clay, probably a
disintegrated sandstone, which it perfectly resembled to the eye,
though altogether friable to the touch. In some places, lower down
the river, we observed masses of ferruginous conglomerate blackened
by the atmosphere, the pebbles chiefly hornstone, and some of them
quartz. The _debris_ of which this conglomerate consists is entirely
adventitious, or unconnected with the existing rocks, which form the
basis of this ancient deposit.
At this place, we saw the first cabin since our departure from the
Little Prairie. On approaching the 34th island from the mouth of the
Ohio, which presents itself rounding, and nearly in the middle of the
river, we had at first determined to take the left-hand side, set
down by the Navigator as the channel, but finding ourselves to float
very slowly, we rowed a little, and then submitted to the current.
It was soon {51} observable, that we drifted towards the right-hand
channel, though much the narrowest, and my companion advised that
we should keep the left, especially as it was the nearest, and as
the wind accompanied by rain blew strongly up the river. However,
on finding still that the current drew to the right, even against
the wind, and having arrived at the commencement of the bar of the
island, I determined, at all events, to keep to the right. At length,
after considerable labour, we landed at a neighbouring cabin, and
were informed that the left channel had not in places more than 12
inches of water, being nearly dry, and almost destitute of current.
Here, again, we made a fortunate escape. We also learnt, that not
more than two days ago, a flat boat was sunk by the snags, which
filled the right-hand channel of Flour island.
At this place, we met with two or three families of hunters, with
whom were living some individuals of the Shawnees and Delawares.
They had lately caught an unusual abundance of beaver in the
neighbourhood, and were anxious to barter it for whiskey, though
scarcely possessed either of bread or vegetables. Amongst their furs,
I also saw a few skins of the musk-rat, (_Arctomys monax_, L.) which
are never met with further to the south.
31st.] We continued our voyage as usual at daylight, and floating
with a brisk current down the right side of the 34th island, had
nearly cleared ourselves of a host of snags and sawyers, when at
last, puzzled on which side of one of these terrific objects to
steer, we unfortunately struck it with considerable force, and the
young man who accompanied us (the son of Mr. G.), an amiable youth
of 16, was precipitated headlong into the river, together with the
steering oar, which was suddenly jerked off by the snag; our boat
was at the same instant careened over so far, as at first to appear
overturning, but I instantly had the satisfaction to see that she was
free, had received no {52} injury, and that Edwin on this emergency
could swim, and, though much alarmed, had come within our reach, and
got safely on board. As to our steering oar it remained across the
snag, and was now become a sawyer; working horizontally upon the back
of the black and fearful trunk which had so justly thrown us into
consternation.
The wind springing up against us, we came to under the second
Chicasaw Bluff, and had time to examine and contemplate these
romantic cliffs, now doubly interesting after such a monotonous and
cheerless prospect of solitary brakes and enswamped forests. This
fasçade, or perpendicular section, precisely of the same materials
and consistence as that of the Iron banks above, continues, I think,
uninterruptedly for near two miles, and is about 150 feet high. The
uppermost bed (all of them as nearly horizontal as may be), 12 to
20 feet thick, commencing immediately below the present vegetable
loam, consists of a yellowish, homogeneous, now friable, sandy,
and argillaceous earth, which is succeeded by a thinner and more
ferruginous bed; below occurs a layer or band of _pink_-red clay,
now and then variegated with white specks, and, though constant
in its appearance and relative position, no where exceeding 18
inches in thickness; below again occur ferruginous earths and clays
more or less sandy, then a bed of a brownish-black colour, and
about 18 inches in thickness, which, on examination, I found to be
lignite, or wood-coal, containing less bitumen than usual, and so
distinctly derived from the vegetable kingdom, exhibiting even the
cross grain of the wood, as to remove all doubts of its origin. To
the taste it was sensibly acid, and smelt in burning like turf.
Beneath this coal, and in connection with it, occurs a friable bed
of dark-coloured argillaceous and sandy earth, in which I could very
distinctly perceive blackened impressions of leaves of an oak, like
the red oak and the willow oak, with {53} _Equisetum hiemale_ or
Shave-rush, and other vegetable remains, not much unlike the black
beds of leaves which occur along the banks of the Ohio, but much more
intermingled with earth. In this bed also occur masses or nodules of
a hard and very fine-grained light gray sandstone, bordering almost
upon hornstone, likewise charged with vegetable remains, resembling
charred wood, together with leaves of oaks and of other forest trees.
Nearly on a level with the present low stage of the river, there was
a second bed of this coal, more interrupted than the first in its
continuity, though constant in its locality, no less in some places
(like basins) than 8, 12 or 15 feet in thickness. Below, clays again
succeeded, and terminated the visible stratification.
In two or three places, I observed that the mud, which was very deep,
had been boiling up into circular masses like fumeroles, and have
no doubt, but that the decomposition of this vast bed of lignite or
wood-coal, situated near the level of the river, and filled with
pyrites, has been the active agent in producing the earthquakes,
which have of late years agitated this country. The deposition of
vast rafts of timber, thus accidentally brought together by the
floods of the river, are continually, even before our eyes, as I may
say, accumulating stores of matter, which, in after ages, will, no
doubt, exert a baneful influence over the devoted soil, beneath which
they are silently interred! How much has the vegetable kingdom to do
with the destiny of man! The time, though slowly, is perhaps surely
approaching, which will witness something like volcanic eruptions on
the banks of the Mississippi. The inhabitants frequently, and almost
daily, experience slight oscillations of the earth: I have even
witnessed them myself while descending the river.
FOOTNOTES:
[54] The bluffs called Iron Banks are on the Kentucky side of the
river, about twenty miles below the mouth of the Ohio. They are
eighty to a hundred and twenty feet in height. From their brownish
color, the early explorers supposed them to contain rich deposits of
iron, whence the name; but the amount of the metal is negligible.--ED.
[55] For New Madrid, see Cuming’s _Tour_, our volume iv, note
185.--ED.
[56] See the Appendix, and the account of De Soto’s incursion.
In the immediate vicinity of the town I met with _Bœbera
glandulosa_, _Erigeron (Cænotus) divaricatum_, _Verbena stricta_, _V.
Aubletia_, _Croton capitatum_, and _Helenium quadridentatum_. On the
banks of the river _Oxydenia attenuata_ and the _Capraria multifida_ of
Michaux.--NUTTALL.
[57] Such as cultivate unappropriated land without any species of
title.--NUTTALL.
[58] Point Pleasant is on the Missouri side of the river, ten miles
below New Madrid, and eighty below the mouth of the Ohio. This place
should not be confused with the site of the battle of Point Pleasant,
at the mouth of the Great Kanawha.--ED.
[59] For a historical account of this country, once thickly inhabited
by the natives, see the abridged relation of its discovery, and
pretended conquest, by Ferdinand de Soto, in the APPENDIX.--NUTTALL.
[60] For comment on the _Pittsburgh Navigator_, see Cuming’s _Tour_,
in our volume iv, note 43.--ED.
[61] Called by the first French settlers the Cliffs of
Prud’homme.--NUTTALL.
{54} CHAPTER V
Pass the third Chicasaw Bluff--Dangers of the navigation,
and solitude of the country--The fourth Bluff of the
Chicasaws--Lignite prevalent--Chicasaw Indians--St. Francis
river--depopulation of the neighbouring country--Trees
of the alluvial forest--Destruction of the Big Prairie
settlement--Scrub grass--Difficulties of the navigation--Changes
of the soil, produced by the agency of the river--A visit from
three of the Arkansa Indians--A dense fog over the river; the
cause of it--Arrival near the mouth of the Arkansa and White
river.
January 1st, 1819.] We proceeded slowly, in consequence of adverse
wind; and at length, came in sight of the third Chicasaw Bluff,[62]
quite similar in appearance and conformation with that of the second
above described. The 35th island of the Navigator intervened betwixt
us and the cliff, there being no water to the left of it; the channel
at this stage of the river, was completely choked up by a bed of sand.
We came to for the night on a sand-bar, opposite the centre of
the island, resembling an Arabian desert, and scattered in every
direction with lignite or bovey coal, washed probably from the basis
of the Bluffs. The shore of the island was horribly strewed with
the wreck of the alluvial forest, brought down by the overwhelming
current of the river at its highest stage, and thrown confusedly
together in vast piles.
In the course of the day, we stopped awhile at a Shawnee camp, and
bartered for some venison and wild honey, which they had in plenty.
The honey, according to the Indian mode, was contained in the skin
of a deer taken off by the aperture of the neck, {55} thus answering,
though very rudely, the purpose of a bottle.
On the 2d, we passed the “Devil’s Race-ground,” as it has been very
formidably termed, but observed no obstructions in the river equal
to that at Plumb point, where we saw the wrecked boats. We observe,
however, every day, wrecks of flat boats, drifted along the shores.
We continued to the lower end of the “Devil’s Elbow,” and again found
the difficulty greatly exaggerated. The whole surrounding country
still continues a desolate wilderness, abandoned to inundation,
presenting impenetrable cane brakes and gloomy forests: none of
the trees, however, attain that enormous magnitude, which they so
frequently present along the borders of the Ohio. This appearance may
perhaps be attributed, in part, to the perpetual revolutions of the
soil, occasioned by the overwhelming force and inundations of the
river.
A dog lost in the forest, and perishing with hunger, came up to
the bank of the river, yelling most piteously; but would not enter
our skiff, which was sent for it, and continued to follow us for
some distance, but the danger of the shore, and the rapidity of the
current, rendered our endeavours to assist the miserable animal
perfectly useless, and, after some time, he fell back, stopped and
yelled, till he reluctantly disappeared.
3d.] We proceeded only a few miles in consequence of the wind, and
came to at the point of a sand-bar, seven miles above the fourth
Bluff. Here we observed a flat-boat lying aground, and dry upon the
bar, for want of precaution in landing during the falling state of
the river.
4th.] This morning we descended to the fourth Chicasaw Bluffs,[63]
and, after endeavouring in vain to proceed, were obliged to desist
for the wind, and come to under fort Pickering.[64] The strata are
here again similar to those of the second Bluffs, even the {56} seam
of pink clay occurs, and near the level of the river we likewise
perceive the lignite in a bed of about six feet thickness; but not
probably continuous. Along the shore we saw masses which looked
precisely like burnt logs, but all this coal, at length, blazes in
the fire, and gives out, as usual, a smoke partaking of the odour of
coal and turf.
We found a store here for the supply of the Indians and the settlers
of the neighbourhood, besides that of the United States. The advance
upon articles sold to the natives is very exorbitant: for example, a
coarse Indian duffell blanket four dollars, whiskey, well watered,
which is sold almost without restraint, in spite of the law, two
dollars per gallon, and every thing else in the same proportion. Yet
the Indians get no more than 25 cents for a ham of venison, a goose,
or a large turkey.
On visiting a neighbouring encampment of the Chicasaws, we found many
of them in a state of intoxication. They are generally well dressed,
extravagantly ornamented, and, from the fairness of many of their
complexions, and agreeable features, appear to have profited by their
intercourse with the whites. Several of them possessed some knowledge
of English, and a considerable number are making advances towards
civilization. General Jackson purchased from them a tract of land,
said to be of more than 300 miles extent, and bounded by Wolf river,
a small stream which enters the Mississippi at the commencement
of the Bluffs.[65] On the river lands I here first noticed the
occurrence of _Brunichia_, _Quercus lyrata_, and _Carya aquatica_
(_Juglans_, MICH.)
On the 5th we passed President island, of considerable magnitude,
contiguous to which there is a rapid current. The left channel was
now choked up with sand at its entrance. Here we again observed
a settlement of two or three families. In the evening we came to
alongside a sand-bar or willow island, at {57} least so in high
water, though now connected with the land by a dry sand-bar, like
many other of the transient islands noticed in the Navigator. We, at
length, began to observe a rise in the bed of the river.
6th.] To-day we saw a few widely-scattered log-cabins along the
bank,[66] and came within 14 miles of the mouth of St. Francis.
7th.] We proceeded by the left channel of St. Francis island, and
found it very shallow and difficult, abounding with snags and bars,
upon one of which lay a flat-boat aground, which had been detained
here 12 days. We endeavoured to make a landing at the uppermost house
of the settlement, near the mouth of the St. Francis, but found the
water much too rapid; we succeeded, however, in eddy water half a
mile below, but found a considerable difficulty in ascending the
broken bank.
I made some enquiries respecting the Arkansa, 95 miles from hence.
The Osages[67] bear a very bad character with these hunting farmers,
of whom we saw but two individuals, and one inhabited house,
excepting that we had first endeavoured to make. This settlement
appears to be nearly abandoned, and very undeservedly. I walked out
two or three miles into the woods, and found the land considerably
elevated above the reach of inundation, and of a good quality. Nearly
opposite island 60, a few miles below, we were informed of the
existence of hills within a quarter of a mile of the river.
How many ages may yet elapse before these luxuriant wilds of the
Mississippi can enumerate a population equal to the Tartarian
deserts! At present all is irksome silence and gloomy solitude, such
as to inspire the mind with horror.
I was greatly disappointed to meet with such a similarity in the
vegetation, to that of the middle and northern states. The higher
lands produce black ash, elm (_Ulmus americana_), hickory, walnut,
maple, {58} hackberry (_Celtis integrifolia_, no other species),
honey-locust, coffee-bean, &c. On the river lands, as usual, grows
platanus or buttonwood, upon the seeds of which flocks of screaming
parrots were greedily feeding,[68] also enormous cotton-wood trees
(_Populus angulisans_), commonly called yellow poplar, some of them
more than six feet in diameter, and occasionally festooned with the
largest vines which I had ever beheld. Here grew also the holly
(_Ilex opaca_), _A plectrum hiemale_, (_Ophrys hyemale_, LIN.),
_Botrychium obliquum_, and _Fumaria aurea_. Nearly all the trees
throughout this country possessing a smooth bark, are loaded with
misletoe (_Viscum verticillatum_).
8th.] About a mile below the place where we spent the last night, is
the settlement called the Big Prairie, consisting of three or four
log-cabins, and two families, but in a state of abandonment since the
shock of the earthquake, which the inhabitants assert to have produced
a depression of the ordinary level, that exposed the settlement to
inundation; and, in fact, by a sudden encroachment of the river, which
carried off the land for more than a quarter of a mile in breadth,
all the habitations, except the two now surviving, were swept into
the river. About a mile and a half below commences the 60th island
of the Navigator; the right channel was now choked up with sand at
its outlet. A little distance below we landed at a store to purchase
some necessaries. Considerable tracts of good and elevated land,
once numerously peopled by the natives, appear in this quarter, over
which the conspicuous devastations of a hurricane now added horror to
solitude.
The scrub-grass or rushes, as they are called here (_Equisetum
hiemale_), from about 50 to 60 miles above, to this place, appear
along the banks in vast fields, and, together with the cane,
which is evergreen, {59} are considered the most important, and,
indeed, the only winter fodder for all kinds of cattle. The cane
is unquestionably saccharine and nutritious, but the scrub-grass
produces an unfavourable action on the stomach, and scours the cattle
so as to debilitate and destroy them if its use be long continued.
We proceeded, without any accident worthy of remark, about six miles,
below the “Little Round island,” noticed in the Navigator, which
from its uncommon aspect affords a pretty good local object for the
boatmen. While passing the island we were accosted by some, to us,
suspicious characters, mimicking distress to draw us to land, but in
vain. We had been well assured of the existence of gangs of pirates
occasionally occupying these solitudes.
9th.] We continued, as usual, soon after day-break, and were about
to stop by reason of the wind, when it unexpectedly abated, so far
as to prevent us, and we proceeded to the _Three Islands_, as they
ought to be called for the sake of distinction, and which are not
intelligible as the 62d and 63d of the Navigator. These islands lie
nearly parallel, and present themselves at the commencement of a left
hand bend in the river. Two of them which first appear are small
willow islands, with adjoining sand-bars. The channel of the first
was now dry; that of the second smooth, but apparently shallow. The
principal insulated forest is crescent-formed like Flour island,
or deeply and circularly indented on the right-hand side. We had
proceeded past the two willow islands nearly to the principal one,
when we perceived, unexpectedly, that the greater part of the river
was pouring along with headlong velocity between the main and second
willow island. To the left, the channel round the third island
appeared broad and shallow, indeed nearly deserted by the river.
We now entered the torrent almost too late for precaution, which,
towards the main island, the side to which we had been inadvertently
{60} drawn, was planted full of black and fearful logs. It was only
with the utmost exertion that we saved ourselves (by rowing out
towards the bar) from the fate of some unfortunate boatmen, which
presented itself to us with more than usual horror. This was a large
flat-boat, which hung upon the trunk of an implanted tree, by which
it had been perforated and instantly sunk.
We passed islands 64 and 65, and came to the shore in the bend
opposite the middle of 66, which appeared to be about three miles in
length. From New Madrid to this place the river appears singularly
meandering, sweeping along in vast elliptic curves, some of them
from six to eight miles round, and constantly presenting themselves
in opposite directions. The principal current pressing against
the centre of the bend, at the rate of about five miles per hour,
gradually diminishes in force as it approaches the extremity of
the curve. Having attained the point or promontory, the current
proceeds with accumulating velocity to the opposite bank, leaving,
consequently, to the eddy water, an extensive deposition in the form
of a vast bed of sand, nearly destitute of vegetation, but flanked
commonly by an island or peninsula of willows. These beds of sand,
for the most part of the year under water, are what the boatmen term
bars. The river, as it sweeps along the curve, according to its force
and magnitude, produces excavations in the banks; which, consisting
of friable materials, are perpetually washing away and leaving broken
and perpendicular ledges, often lined with fallen trees, so as to be
very dangerous to the approach of boats, which would be dashed to
pieces by the velocity of the current. These slips in the banks are
almost perpetual, and by the undermining of eddies often remarkable
in their extent. To-day we witnessed two horrid sinkings of the bank,
by each of which not less than an acre of land had fallen in a day
or two {61} ago, with all the trees and cane upon them, down to the
present level of the river, a depth of 30 or 40 feet perpendicular.
These masses now formed projecting points, upon which the floating
drift was arrested, and over which the current broke along with more
than ordinary velocity. Just after passing one of these foaming
drifts, we narrowly escaped being drawn into a corresponding eddy and
vortex that rushed up the stream, with a fearful violence, and from
which we should not have been easily extricated. I now sufficiently
saw the reason why the flat-boats were always kept out from the
shore, and towards the bars which occupy the opposite side of the
river.
The encroachments in the centre of the curves of the meanders,
proceeding to a certain extent, at length break through and form
islands, in time the islands also disappear, and so the river
continually augmenting its uncontroulable dominion over the friable
soil, alternately fills up one channel, and more deeply excavates or
forms another, in proportion to the caprice of the current.
In regard to landing, eddy or silent water is constantly to be found
beyond the point of the bends or curves of the river. The bars are
also generally safe, when sufficiently high, and the water deep. In
such situations, the counter current, though inconsiderable, affords
also a singular facility to vessels which are ascending.
A rude cabin, which we passed to-day, was the only habitation we had
seen for 30 miles.
This evening we were visited by three young men, a boy, and a squaw
of the Osarks, a band of the Quapaws[69] or Arkansa Indians. Their
aspect was agreeable, their features aquiline, and their complexion
comparatively fair; my first impression was that they somewhat
resembled the Osages. Their errand was whiskey, and I regretted that
it was not possible to satisfy them without it. They drank healths in
{62} their own language, and one of them could mumble out a little
bad English. They informed me, partly by signs, that their company
was about five or six families or fires, as they intimated, out on a
hunting excursion. I was sorry to find that they were beggars, and
that one of them proved himself to be a thief.
10th.] This morning we left the 66th island, opposite the middle of
which we came to last evening, but found our situation hazardous
from the sliding in of the bank around, and which might easily have
involved us in difficulty. By the time we had proceeded about a
mile and a half along the bend or right hand channel of 67 and 68,
which lie opposite to each other, a fog sprung up, so very dense as
to render our situation amidst almost unseen obstacles extremely
dangerous. We had no alternative but rowing over to the bar of the
island on our left, in which attempt we at length succeeded, not,
however, without a risk of grounding. Here we lay until towards
evening, when we proceeded to the termination of the 68th island,
and made an indifferent landing. On exposing the thermometer to the
air, it rose and remained at 62°. In the water it fell to 42°; the
difference being 20°, which readily accounted for the dense fog
that exclusively enveloped the river. This coldness of the water
was no doubt occasioned by the thawing of ice in the upper part of
the river, or some of its more considerable tributary streams, in
consequence of which, the vapours of the moist and warm air were
perpetually precipitated over it. The air, of unequal temperature,
now and then felt extremely warm.
On the 11th we were again detained by the fog and heavy rain,
but turned out about 10 o’clock. After proceeding opposite the
commencement of the 69th island we stopped in consequence of the fog.
Here, on ascending the bank, I found the woods almost impenetrably
laced with green briars (_Smilax_), {63} supple-jacks (_Œnoplia
volubilis_), and the _Brunichia_, and for the first time recognised
the short-podded honey-locust (_Gleditscia brachycarpa_), a distinct
species, intermediate with the common kind (_G. triacanthos_),
and the one-seeded locust (_G. monosperma_), differing from _G.
triacanthos_ in the persisting fasciculated legumes, as well as in
their shortness and want of pulp.
We proceeded a few miles further amidst torrents of rain, and were
again obliged to land in consequence of the fog. Here we met with
two hunters, who informed us of the existence of a considerable
settlement on the banks of White River.[70]
The wind springing up in the evening from the northwest, the
thermometer fell to 52°, and the water to 40°, from which time the
dense fog that had exclusively enveloped the river began to disperse,
and in the night we had a storm.
12th.] Coming along the bend of the 71st island, we struck upon
an enormous planter, or immoveable log, but again escaped without
accident. About noon we landed at Mr. M’Lane’s,[71] a house of
entertainment. Here I was advised to proceed with my small cargo and
flat-boat to the port of Osark, on the Arkansa, by the bayou,[72]
which communicates between the White and Arkansa rivers, in both
of which it was now conjectured there was back-water from the
Mississippi. Concluding upon this measure, I hired a man at five
dollars to assist me, and parted here with Mr. G---- and son, who
soon, to my satisfaction, got a further passage on board a flat-boat.
The idea of so soon arriving on the ground which I more immediately
intended to explore, did not fail to inspire me with hope and
satisfaction.
FOOTNOTES:
[62] For historical sketch of site of the third bluff, see Cuming’s
_Tour_, our volume iv, note 188.--ED.
[63] For sketch, see _ibid._, note 189.--ED.
[64] For note on Fort Pickering, see _ibid._, note 192.--ED.
[65] For brief statement regarding the purchase, see _ibid._, note
190.--ED.
[66] There is no record of a compact or permanent settlement at this
date near the mouth of the St. Francis. There were scattered settlers
as early as 1800, for John Patterson was born in that year not far
above Helena.--ED.
[67] For the Osage Indians, see _ante_, note 53.--ED.
[68] Their most favourite food in the autumn is the seeds of the
cuckold bur (_Xanthium strumarium_).--NUTTALL.
[69] For the Quapaw, see _post_, note 84.--ED.
[70] Local historians mention an early settlement at Crockett’s
Bluff, on White River, which may be the one here referred to.--_Ed._
[71] We find nothing positive relative to this individual; but it is
interesting to note that Arkansas County was represented in the upper
house of the territorial legislature in 1821 by Neil McLane, who may
have been the same man.--ED.
[72] This bayou, sometimes called “White River Cut Off,” was the
common route from the Mississippi to the Arkansas, for travellers
from the North.--ED.
{64} CHAPTER VI
Proceed up White river for the Arkansa--Suspicious conduct of
one of the boatmen--Pass through the connecting bayou, and
proceed up the Arkansa; its navigation; soil and surrounding
scenery--A small French settlement--Extraordinary mildness of
the season--Mounds--Changes in the alluvial lands produced by
the agency of the river--Land speculators--Vegetation of the
alluvial lands--The town or Post of Arkansas--Enormous land
claims--Difficulty of navigating against the current--The
Great Prairie--First settlement on the Arkansa; its present
state--Agricultural advantages arising from the mildness
of the climate--Storax--Aboriginal remains--The Quapaws or
Arkansas--Their traditions and character.
13th.] To-day I was detained at Mr. M’Lane’s, waiting the drunken
whim of the Yankee, whom necessity had obliged me to hire. In the
course of a few hours he had shifted from two bargains. At first, I
was to give him five dollars for his assistance, and in case that
should prove inadequate, I had agreed to hire an additional hand
on the Arkansa. Now he wished to have the boat for bringing her
completely to the Port, and next he wanted 10 dollars!
I endeavoured to amuse myself in the neighbourhood, by a ramble
through the adjoining cane-brake. Here I found abundance of the
_Celtis integrifolia_ (entire-leaved nettle tree) and the common
and one-seeded honey-locust; also _Forrestiera acuminata_ of Poiret
(_Borya acuminata_, WILD.). The day was as mild and warm as the month
of May, and the _Senecio laciniata_, so common along the banks of the
Mississippi, already showed signs of flowering.
14th.] To-day we proceeded up White river with {65} considerable
difficulty, and hard labour, the Mississippi not being sufficiently
high to produce any eddy. The course which we made, in the two
miles that we ascended, was west by north. I now found the boatman
whom I had hired, one of the most worthless and drunken scoundrels
imaginable; he could not be prevailed upon to do anything but steer,
while myself and the other man I had hired, were obliged to keep
constantly to the oar, or the cordelle (tow-rope). In the evening we
left the boat without any guard, intending to repair to it in the
morning from Mr. M’Lane’s, where we returned again this evening,
being only three miles distant across the forest. Here I discovered
that the Yankee intended to proceed to the boat in our absence and
rob me, pretending some business to the mouth of the Arkansa, for
which he must depart by moon-light. Unknown to him, however, and
accompanied by a young man whom I had hired in his place, we repaired
to the boat, waiting under arms the approach of the thief, but unable
to obtain a boat, he had relinquished the attempt, and saved himself
from chastisement.
In the neighbouring woods I was shewn a scandent leguminous shrub,
so extremely tenacious as to afford a good substitute for ropes, and
commonly employed as a boat’s cable. A knot can be tied of it with
ease. On examination I found it to be the plant which I have called
_Wisteria speciosa_ (_Glycine frutescens._ WILLD.) the Carolina
kidney-bean tree.[73]
15th.] We continued with hard labour ascending White river to the
bayou, said to enter seven miles up that stream. The latter proceeds
from the bayou, in a direction of west to north-west, the bayou or
cut-off continuing to the southwest. In this distance, there are
no settlements, the land being overflowed by the back water of the
Mississippi. We passed nearly {66} through the bayou, in which there
are four points of land and a half; the current carrying us almost
three miles an hour towards the Arkansa, which it entered nearly at
right angles, with a rapid current, and a channel filled with snags.
The length of the bayou appears to be about eight or nine miles.
16th.] Leaving the bayou, we entered the Arkansa, which was very low,
but still red and muddy from the freshets of the Canadian. Most of
the larger streams which enter into it from the south, are charged
with red and turbid water, while those of the north are clear. Every
where I observed the chocolate or reddish brown clay of the salt
formation, deposited by the southern freshets. The Arkansa had here a
very gentle current, and was scarcely more than 200 yards wide, with
its meanders on a small scale, similar to those of the Mississippi.
In consequence of the unrestrained dominion of the inundation, no
settlements yet appeared in this quarter. We proceeded chiefly by
means of the cordelle, but at a very tedious and tiresome rate, for,
after the utmost exertion, with our unwieldy boat, we were this
evening only six and a half miles above the outlet of the bayou.
17th.] We found the labour of towing our boat exceedingly tiresome,
in consequence of the sudden falling of the river, produced by a
corresponding ebb of the Mississippi. With painful exertions, and
after wading more than three hours in the river, we passed only two
bars in the course of the day.
18th.] To-day we towed along two bars, much more considerable
than any preceding bends, but had the disappointment to spend the
night only a single mile below Madame Gordon’s, the place of our
destination with the boat, and only 16 miles above the bayou, by
which we entered the Arkansa. This house is the first which is met
with in ascending the river. Nearly opposite to the foot of the last
bar {67} but one which we passed, a vast pile of drift wood marks the
outlet of a bayou, which is open in high water, and communicates with
the Mississippi.
The three last bends of the river, like the four first, tending by
half circles to the north-west, are each about two and three miles in
circuit. As in the Mississippi, the current sets with the greatest
force against the centre of the curves; the banks of which are nearly
perpendicular, and subject to a perpetual state of dislocation. In
such situations we frequently see brakes of cane; while, on the
opposite side, a naked beach of sand, thinly strewed with succulent
and maritime plants, considerably wider than the river, appears
to imitate the aridity of a desert, though contrasted at a little
distance by skirting groves of willows and poplars.
No other kind of soil appears than a friable loam, and the beds of
red clay, which so strongly tinge the water at particular periods of
inundation. The sand of the river appears to be in perpetual motion,
drifting along at the beck of the current; its instability is indeed
often dangerous to the cattle that happen to venture into the river,
either to drink or traverse the stream.
The land, although neglected, appears in several places, below Madame
Gordon’s, high enough to be susceptible of cultivation, and secure
from inundation, at least for some distance from the immediate bank
of the river.
No change, that I can remark, yet exists in the vegetation, and the
scenery is almost destitute of every thing which is agreeable to
human nature; nothing yet appears but one vast trackless wilderness
of trees, a dead solemnity, where the human voice is never heard to
echo, where not even ruins of the humblest kind recal its history to
mind, or prove the past dominion of man. All is rude nature as it
sprang into {68} existence, still preserving its primeval type, its
unreclaimed exuberance.
19th.] This morning we had extremely hard labour, to tow the only
mile which remained of our tiresome voyage. I was obliged to plunge
into the water up to the waist, and there work for some time, to
disengage the boat from a hidden log upon which it was held; the men
I had employed, being this morning scarcely willing to wet their
feet, although I had to pay them exorbitant wages.
A mile and a half from Madame Gordon’s, there was a settlement,
consisting of four or five French families, situated upon an elevated
tract of fertile land, which is occasionally insulated by the
overflowings of the White and Arkansa rivers.
20th.] To-day, and indeed for more than a week past, the weather,
except being cloudy, has felt to me like May; towards mid-day, the
thermometer rose to 67°. The birds had commenced their melodies; and
on the high and open bank of the river near to Madame Gordon’s, I
had already the gratification of finding flowers of the same natural
family as many of the early plants of Europe; the Cruciferæ; but to
me they were doubly interesting, as the first fruits of a harvest
never before reaped by any botanist.
In the afternoon, I walked about a mile from the river to the house
of Monsieur Tenass, an honest and industrious farmer. The crop of
cotton, and of corn, here the last summer was, I understand, very
indifferent, for want of rain. The first sold here, at five to six
dollars per hundred weight, in the seed; and flour at 10 dollars per
barrel.
The climate is said to be too warm for apples, but quite suitable for
peaches. The land on which this gentleman and his neighbours resided,
in tolerable independence, is very considerably elevated and open,
bearing a resemblance to the lands about the Chicasaw {69} Bluffs,
and at first view, I thought I discovered a considerable hill, but
it was, in fact, an enormous mound, not less than 40 feet high,
situated towards the centre of a circle of other lesser mounds, and
elevated platforms of earth. The usual vestiges of earthenware, and
weapons of hornstone flint, are here also met with, scattered over
the surrounding soil.
In any other direction from this settlement, the lands are totally
overflowed in freshets as far as the Mississippi. On this side of
the Arkansa, the floods cover the whole intermediate space to White
river, a distance of 30 miles. Within this tract, cultivation can
never take place without recourse to the same industry, which has
redeemed Holland from the ocean. The singular caprice of the river,
as it accidentally seeks its way to the sea, meandering through its
alluvial valley, is truly remarkable. The variation of its channel is
almost incredible, and the action which it exercises over the destiny
of the soil, can scarcely be conceived. After pursuing a given course
for many ages, and slowly encroaching, it has, at length, in many
instances cut through an isthmus, and thus abandoned perhaps a course
of six or eight miles, in which the water stagnating, at length
becomes totally insulated, and thus presents a lagoon or lake. One of
these insulated channels, termed a lake, commences about two miles
from hence, and approaches within four miles of the Arkansas or the
Post of Osark, affording a much nearer communication than the present
course of the river.
Towards evening, two keel boats came in sight, one of which was
deeply loaded with whiskey and flour; the other, a small boat
fitted out by a general Calamees and his brother, two elderly men
out on a land speculation, who intended to ascend the river as far
as the Cadron,[74] which is 300 miles from hence by water, or to
the Fort,[75] which is 350 miles further. I perceived that they
noted down every particular which {70} came to their knowledge, but
appeared to be illiterate men, and of course, I found them incapable
of appreciating the value of science. On application, they merely
condescended to offer me a passage, provided I would find my own
provision, and work as a boat-man. Such was the encouragement, which
I at length wrung from these generous speculators; not, I dare say,
exploring the Missouri territory with the same philanthropic views as
the generous Birkbeck.
21 st.] About 12 o’clock, the thermometer was again at 67°. In the
course of the forenoon, I took a solitary ramble down the bank of the
river, and found along its shelving border, where the sun obtained
free access, abundance of the _Mimosa glandulosa_ of Michaux; also
_Polypremum procumbens_, _Diodia virginica_, _Verbena nodiflora_,
LIN. _Eclipta erecta_, MICH. _Poa stricta_, _Panicum capilaceum_,
_Poa reptans_ as usual in vast profusion, and _Capraria multifida_.
The trees and shrubs are chiefly the Pecan, (_Carya olivœformis_)
_C. aquatica_; the black walnut, (_Juglans nigra_), but very rare;
_Fraxinus quadrangulata_, _Liquidamber_ and _Platanus_, but rarely
large or full grown; also _Celtis integrifolia_; the swamp oak
(_Quercus aquatica_), nearly sempervirent, the red oak (_Q. rubra_),
the scarlet oak (_Q. coccinea_), Spanish oak (_Q. falcata_), _Populus
angulisans_, the cotton wood, of greater magnitude than any other
tree in this country, with the wood yellowish, like that of the Tulip
tree, answering the purpose of fence rails, and being tolerably
durable. The smaller white poplar (_P. monilifera_), never so large
as the preceding, commonly growing in groves like the willows,
and presenting a bark which is white and even. Different kinds of
honey locust, as the common species _Gleditscia triacanthos_, the
one-seeded _G. monosperma_, and the short podded _G. brachyloba_.
There is no sugar-maple, as I understand, nearer than the upper parts
of the St. Francis and White river.
{71} The alluvial soil is here sandy and light; by no means
luxuriant, except on the very margin of the river. We no where
see such enormous trees as those which so frequently occur along
the banks of the Ohio; this, however, may in part be occasioned
by the instability of the soil, from whence they are occasionally
swept at no very distant intervals. The tulip tree (_Lyriodendron
tulipifera_), which attains the acme of its perfection and magnitude
in Kentucky, is not met with on the banks of the Arkansa.
In consequence of the many saline streams which fall into this river,
its waters are frequently found to be almost impotable.
22d.] The path, which I this morning pursued to the Post, now town of
Arkansas, passed through remarkably contrasted situations and soil.
After leaving the small circumscribed and elevated portion of settled
lands already noticed, and over which were scattered a number of
aboriginal mounds, I entered upon an oak swamp, which, by the marks
on the trees, appeared to be usually inundated, in the course of the
summer, four to six feet by the back water of the river. The species
are principally _Quercus lyrata_, _Q. macrocarpa_ (the over-cup
oak); _Q. phellos_ (the willow oak); _Q. falcata_ (the Spanish oak);
and _Q. palustris_ (the swamp oak); with some red and scarlet, as
well as black and post oak on the knolls, or more elevated parts.
In this swamp, I also observed the _Nyssa aquatica_, _N. pubescens_
(Ogechee lime, the fruit being prepared as a conserve), as well as
_N. biflora_, and _Gleditscia monosperma_. After crossing this horrid
morass, a delightful tract of high ground again occurs, over which
the floods had never yet prevailed; here the fields of the French
settlers were already of a vivid green, and the birds were singing
from every bush, more particularly the red bird (_Loxia cardinalis_),
and the blue sparrow (_Motacilla sialis_). The ground appeared
perfectly whitened with {72} the _Alyssum bidentatum_. The _Viola
bicolor_, the _Myosurus minimus_ of Europe, (probably introduced by
the French settlers) and the _Houstonia serpyllifolia_ of Michaux,
(_H. patens_ of Mr. Elliott) with bright blue flowers, were also
already in bloom. After emerging out of the swamp, in which I found
it necessary to wade about ankle deep, a prairie came in view, with
scattering houses spreading over a narrow and elevated tract for
about three miles parallel to the bend of the river.
On arriving, I waited on Monsieur Bougie,[76] one of the earliest
settlers and principal inhabitants of the place, to whom I was
introduced by letter. I soon found in him a gentleman, though
disguised at this time in the garb of a Canadian boatman. He treated
me with great politeness and respect, and, from the first interview,
appeared to take a generous and active interest in my favour.
Monsieur B. was by birth a Canadian, and, though 70 years of age,
possessed almost the vigour and agility of youth. This settlement
owes much to his enterprise and industry.
The town, or rather settlement of the Post of Arkansas,[77] was
somewhat dispersed over a prairie, nearly as elevated as that of the
Chicasaw Bluffs, and containing in all between 30 and 40 houses. The
merchants, then transacting nearly all the business of the Arkansa
and White river, were Messrs. Braham and Drope, Mr. Lewis, and
Monsieur Notrebe,[78] who kept well-assorted stores of merchandize,
supplied chiefly from New Orleans, with the exception of some heavy
articles of domestic manufacture obtained from Pittsburgh. Mr. Drope,
to whom I was also introduced by letter, received me with politeness,
and I could not but now for awhile consider myself as once more
introduced into the circle of civilization.
The improvement and settlement of this place proceeded slowly, owing,
in some measure, as I am informed, to the uncertain titles of the
neighbouring {73} lands. Several enormous Spanish grants remained
still undecided; that of Messrs. Winters, of Natchez, called for
no less than one million of acres, but the congress of the United
States, inclined to put in force a kind of agrarian law against such
monopolizers, had laid them, as I was told, under the stipulation of
settling upon this immense tract a certain number of families.[79]
The cotton produced in this neighbourhood, of a quality no way
inferior to that of Red river, obtained this year from six to six
and a half dollars per cwt. in the seed, and there were now two gins
established for its preparation, though, like every thing else,
in this infant settlement of the poor and improvident, but little
attention beyond that of absolute necessity, was as yet paid to any
branch of agriculture. Nature has here done so much, and man so
little, that we are yet totally unable to appreciate the value and
resources of the soil. Amongst other kinds of grain, rice has been
tried on a small scale, and found to answer every expectation. The
price of this grain, brought from New Orleans, was no less than 25 to
37½ cents per lb. by retail. Under the influence of a climate mild
as the south of Europe, and a soil equal to that of Kentucky, wealth
will ere long flow, no doubt, to the banks of the Arkansa.
I again made application to the land speculators, trying to prevail
upon them on any terms, to take up my baggage, as far as the Cadron,
which would have enabled me immediately to proceed on my journey,
across the great prairie, but they remained inexorable.
23d.] To-day, I returned to Madame Gordon’s, which, though only
six miles distant by land, is not less than 15 by water. I was now
obliged more deeply to wade through the enswamped forests, which
surround the habitable prairie lands, in consequence of the late
rain. In these ponds, I am told, the Proteus {74} or Syren is
occasionally met with. There are also alligators, though by no means
numerous.
24th.] This morning I again proceeded up the river with my flat boat,
by the assistance of two French boatmen, full of talk, and, at first,
but indifferently inclined to work; we succeeded, however, by night,
to get to the third of the five sand-bars or bends, which intervene
between this place and the village of Arkansas. The following day in
the evening, after a good deal of hard labour and wading, on my part,
and that of the negro in my employ, we arrived at Monsieur Bougie’s,
and the next day I parted with a sort of regret from the boat,
which, with all its difficulties, had afforded me, through the most
inclement season of the year, no inconsiderable degree of comfort and
convenience.
On the 26th, I proceeded with my baggage and property to the village
in Monsieur Bougie’s perogue, accompanied by one boatman. Near to the
town, we grounded on the inner side of a recent, and still augmenting
bar, and, after falling a little back, we crossed over, but here
the current would not permit us to advance with the oars. The shore
was high, and the water too deep for poles, so that we had again
to attempt the side we had left; here, in drifting with velocity
again on the bar, our fickle boat or canoe was so near overturning,
notwithstanding our exertions, that, for a moment I considered every
thing as lost; getting out, however, into the water, we with some
difficulty set the perogue afloat, and for safety dragged her along,
up to our waists in water. The sand was here so moveable, as to bury
our feet at every step. We at length succeeded, and came to shore,
under a bank 100 feet high, without any kind of practicable landing
for merchandise, that of last year being now choked up with moving
sand.
In the meanest garb of a working boat-man, and {75} unattended by a
single slave, I was no doubt considered, as I had probably been by
the land speculators, one of the canaille, and I neither claimed nor
expected attention; my thoughts centered upon other objects, and all
pride of appearance I willingly sacrificed to promote with frugality
and industry the objects of my mission.
An insignificant village, containing three stores, destitute even
of a hatter, a shoe-maker, and a taylor, and containing about 20
houses, after an existence of near a century, scarcely deserved
geographical notice, and will never probably flatter the industry of
the French emigrants, whose habits, at least those of the Canadians,
are generally opposed to improvement and regular industry. During
my stay, I took up my residence with Dr. M’Kay, and found in him an
intelligent and agreeable companion; but such is the nationality
of these ignorant people, that French quackery has hitherto been
preferred to the advice of a regular physician. Blanket capeaus,
mocassins, and overalls of the same materials, are here, as in
Canada, the prevailing dress; and men and women commonly wear a
handkerchief on the head in place of hats and bonnets.
28th.] This morning I accompanied the doctor to shoot wild geese, as
they passed to a neighbouring lake, about two miles in the rear of
the town. Here a vast prairie opens to view, like a shorn desert,
but well covered with grass and herbaceous plants. Over this vast
plain, which proceeds a little to the west of north, computed to be
not less than 30 leagues in length, by 10 to 15 in breadth, passes
the road to the Cadron, and the settlements of Red river.
Among other plants already in flower in these natural meadows,
we saw abundance of a new and fragrant species of _Allium_ with
greenish-white flowers, and destitute of the characteristic odour of
the genus in common with _A. fragrans_, to which it is allied. {76}
The _Houstonia serpyllifolia_ and _Claytonia caroliniana_ were also
in full bloom at this early season.
_February 3d._] This afternoon I walked to Mr. Mosely’s, six miles
distant by land, and 15 by water. The prairie, in consequence of the
late rains, appeared almost one continued sheet of water. I observed
springing up, the _Eryngium aquaticum_, occasionally employed as a
medicine by the inhabitants, acting as a diuretic, and in larger
doses proving almost emetic. Crossing the prairie, which is bordered
with settlements, we entered the alluvial forest, containing oak,
hickory, box, elder (_Acer negundo_), elm, &c. nearer the river
cotton-wood appears as usual. I saw here a prickly-ash (_Zanthoxylion
Clava Herculis_), the size of an ordinary ash, but the same species
as that of the southern states, and the bark proving equally
efficacious for allaying the tooth-ache.
The first attempt at settlement on the banks of the Arkansa, was
begun a few miles below the bayou which communicates with White
river. An extraordinary inundation occasioned the removal of the
garrison to the borders of the lagoon near madame Gordon’s, and,
again disturbed by an overflow, they at length chose the present
site of Arkansas. The first band of hunters who attempted to
reside here, were, it is said, obliged to remove, in consequence
of the swarms of rats, with which they found the country infested.
These animals, which are native, differ specifically from the
European species, are much larger, and commit the most serious
depredations.[80]
{77} The poverty of the land in the immediate vicinity of this place,
will probably operate as a perpetual barrier to its extension. The
encroachments of the river upon the precipitous and friable bank in
front of the town, and the enlargement of the ravines by which it is
intersected, renders the site altogether precarious, and prevents
the practicability of any thing like a convenient landing for
merchandise. During the period of high water, however, the adjoining
bayou, or channel of communication with a neighbouring lake, affords
this convenience.
The love of amusements, here, as in most of the French colonies,
is carried to extravagance, particularly gambling, and dancing
parties or balls. But the sum of general industry is, as yet, totally
insufficient for the support of any thing like a town.
The houses, commonly surrounded with open galleries, destitute of
glass windows, and perforated with numerous doors, are well enough
suited for a summer shelter, but totally destitute of comfort in
the winter. Without mechanics, domestic conveniences and articles
of dress were badly supplied at the most expensive rate. Provision
produced in the country, such as beef and pork, did not exceed six
cents per pound; but potatoes, onions, apples, flour, spirits, wine,
and almost every other necessary article of diet, were imported at an
enormous price, into a country which ought to possess every article
of the kind for exportation to New Orleans. Such is the evil which
may always be anticipated by forcing a town, like a garrison, into
being, previous to the existence of necessary {78} supplies. With a
little industry, surely every person in possession of slaves might
have, at least, a kitchen garden! but these Canadian descendants,
so long nurtured amidst savages, have become strangers to civilized
comforts and regular industry. They must, however, in time give way
to the introduction of more enterprising inhabitants.
The enormous claim of Messrs. Winters, containing about a million of
acres of this territory, and which will yet probably for some time
remain undetermined, proves a considerable bar to the progress of the
settlement. Besides a great portion of the neighbouring prairie, it
embraces much of the finest land on the northern border of the river,
and continues for near one hundred miles along its bank.
The great prairie of which we have already spoken, said to be 90
miles in length, contains an invaluable body of land, and, where
sufficiently drained, which is pretty generally the case, except
during the rains of winter, would produce most species of grain in
abundance. As a pasture it is truly inexhaustible, though in the
hottest months of summer occasionally deprived of water.
The cattle throughout this country are generally left to provide for
themselves, and suffered to range at large, excepting such as are
in domestic use. That they may not become entirely irreclaimable,
they are now and then enticed to come up to the fold by a handful
of salt, or a few ears of corn. No hay is provided for fodder, nor
does it indeed appear necessary, except to assist in fattening for
the stall, but this piece of economy, like almost every thing else
which might promise comfort, is neglected, and the cattle are killed
just as they are hunted up from the prairie or the cane-brake. It
is from the prevalence of the cane, and the shave-rush (_Equisetum
hiemale_), that the cattle are kept in tolerable condition, and
often even fat, through the severest part of the winter. Indeed, at
{79} this early, but perhaps uncommonly advanced season of the year
(not yet the middle of February), there was already a few inches
of green herbage, and only one night during this month have I seen
any ice. The thermometer, towards noon, rises to 70°, and the peach
and plum-trees, almost equally naturalized, have nearly finished
blooming. The fig, however, unprotected by the shelter of a wall,
though sufficiently vigorous, appears every year to die down nearly
to the ground. Grapes succeed so as to promise wine, but without
the advantage of cellars it soon becomes subjected to the acetous
fermentation.
The sweet gum tree (_Liquidambar styraciflua_), which produces no
resin in the northern states, where it is equally indigenous, here,
as in Mexico and the Levant, exudes the odoriferous Storax of the
shops.
As to the breed of domestic animals, no selection of those commonly
raised has yet been attended to, nor any foreign ones introduced
from parallel climates, so as to afford us any idea of the resources
and conveniences which might here be brought into existence. The
horned cattle increase and fatten without any labour or attention,
more than the trouble of occasionally ascertaining their existence
in the wilderness through which they are at liberty to roam without
limit. It is in consequence of this unrestrained liberty, and
the advantage of a perpetual supply of food, that the horse has
become already naturalized in the southern parts of this territory,
and the adjoining province of Spain. By this means, however, the
domestic breed has been, in some respects considerably deteriorated;
the horses of this country are rather small, though very hardy,
and capable of subsisting entirely upon cane or grass, even when
subjected to the hardest labour. They were commonly sold from 30
to 50 and 100 dollars a piece, though paid for in the depreciated
currency of the country, bearing a discount of from 10 to 20 per cent.
{80} The singular temperature and general mildness of this climate,
which may be presumed from a cursory inspection of its flora and
agriculture, and then again the occurrence of considerable frosts
in the winter, are circumstances which justly excite astonishment
when we survey the same parallels of latitude in the transatlantic
regions. Here, in the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, in that
of Sidon, and even south of Candia and Cyprus, with its groves
of myrtle, near to the latitude of Madeira, and in that of the
empire of Morocco, we find the fig annually levelled to the ground
by frosts. Not even the low palmetto (_Sabal minor_) indigenous,
consequently no prospect of naturalizing the date, so common in the
same parallels of Africa; no olive, nor any well-grounded prospect
of its success; wines, for which Madeira has so long been celebrated
(at least any of superior quality), appear also proscribed from
this part of America. No evergreens of any description, except the
holly, appear throughout the dreary forests. The north-western winds,
sweeping over the arctic deserts of eternal winter, have extended the
temperature of northern Europe over all the regions of the United
States, nearly to the very limits of the tropic. The climate of
Arkansas, scarcely elevated more than 5 or 600 feet above the level
of the sea, is not more ardent and less temperate than that of the
south of France.
* * * * *
For several miles in and round the town, the accumulation of low
mounds or Indian graves, scattered with those fragments of pots,
which were either interred or left on the graves with offers of
food, by the affectionate friends of the deceased, mark the ancient
residence of the natives. In one of the tumuli, on the bank towards
the bayou, intersected by the falling away of the earth, a pot of
this kind, still employed by the Chicasaws and other natives for
boiling their victuals, had fallen out of the grave, and did not
appear {81} to be of very ancient interment. Whether these monuments
had been the slow accumulation of natural and casual mortality, or
the sad remains of some overwhelming destruction, was now impossible
to determine. From the ashes of fires, and fragments of charcoal,
besides the accompaniment of many indestructible weapons, utensils,
and pots broken into fragments by force, I suspect that these mounds
are merely incidental, arising from the demolition of the circular
dwelling in which the deceased had been interred, a custom which
was formerly practised by the Natchez, Cherokees, and other of the
natives. Indeed, the sacrifices and offerings which the Indians
formerly made to the manes of the deceased father, were sometimes
almost ruinous to his family, though no longer blackened by the
immolation of human victims. Father Charlevoix[81] relates, that
stopping, as he descended the Mississippi, at a village of Ouyapes
(or Wyapes), the same with the Quapaws (or, as they call themselves,
O-guah-pas), then living near the confluence of White river with the
Mississippi, he found them in great distress from the ravages of the
small-pox. Their burying-place appeared “like a forest of poles and
posts newly set up, and on which there hung all manner of things:
there is every thing which the savages use.” The men and women both
continued lamenting throughout the night, and repeating without
ceasing, “_Nihahani_, as the Illinois do, and in the same tone.” A
mother weeping over the grave of her son, poured upon it a great
quantity of Sagamitty (or hominy). Another kindled a fire near one
of the tombs,[82] probably for the purpose of sacrificing food, as I
have seen practised by the Pawnee-Rikasrees[83] of the Missouri.
The aborigines of this territory, now commonly called Arkansas or
Quapaws and Osarks, do not at this time number more than about 200
warriors.[84] They {82} were first discovered about the year 1685, by
Chevalier de Tonti.[85] From what source Father Charlevoix ascertains
that they were very numerous in the time of Ferdinand de Soto, I
am unable to learn. In the abridged relation of this expedition by
Purchas,[86] cannot possibly discover any thing relating to them.
The people of Quigaute must have occupied a country not far from
the Arkansa, and are said by La Vega[87] to have been numerous and
powerful, but that they were the same people as the Arkansas or
O-guah-pas, seems by no means probable. From their own tradition it
does not appear that they were visited by the whites previous to the
arrival of La Salle; they say, that many years had elapsed before
they had any interview with the whites, whom they had only heard of
from their neighbours.
In a council held with the Quapaws some years ago, concerning the
boundaries of the lands which they claimed, a very old chieftain
related to the agent, that at a very remote period his nation had
descended the Mississippi, and after having proceeded in one body
to the entrance of a large and muddy river (the Missouri), they
had there divided, one party continuing down the Mississippi, and
the other up the miry river. The descending band were checked in
their progress by the Kaskaskias,[88] whose opposition they at
length subdued. In their further descent they were harassed by the
Chicasaws and Choctaws, and waged war with them for some considerable
time, but, at length, overcoming all opposition, they obtained the
banks of the Arkansa, where they have remained ever since. Some of
them, reverting apparently to the period of creation, say, that
they originally emerged out of the water, but made many long and
circuitous journeys upon that element, previous to their arrival on
the banks of this river.
As their language scarcely differs from that of the Osages, Kanzas,
Mahas, and Poncas of the Missouri, it is presumable that these sprung
from the band {83} which ascended the Missouri. They say, they
remained separated from a knowledge of each other for many years,
until mutually discovered on a hunting party, taking each other at
first for enemies, till assured to the contrary by both uttering the
same language.
They bear an unexceptionally mild character, both amongst the French
and Americans, having always abstained, as they say, from offering
any injury to the whites. Indeed, to do them justice, and to prove
that this opinion concerning them is no modern prejudice, I cannot
do less than quote the testimony of Du Pratz,[89] made about a
century ago. Speaking of the Arkansa territory, he adds, “I am so
prepossessed in favour of this country, that I persuade myself the
beauty of the climate has a great influence on the character of
the inhabitants, who are at the same time very gentle, and very
brave. They have ever had an inviolable friendship for the French,
uninfluenced thereto, either by fear or views of interest; and live
with them as brethren, rather than as neighbours.”[90] They say, that
in consequence of their mildness and love of peace, they have been
overlooked by the Americans; that they are ready enough to conciliate
by presents those who are in danger of becoming their enemies, but
neglect those who are their unchangeable friends.
The complexion of the Quapaws, like that of the Choctaws and Creeks,
is dark, and destitute of any thing like the cupreous tinge. The
symmetry of their features, mostly aquiline, often amounts to beauty,
but they are not to be compared in this respect to the Osages, at
least those of them which now remain. Charlevoix says, “The Akansas
(as he calls them) are reckoned to be the tallest and best shaped
of all the savages of this continent, and they are called, by way
of distinction, _the fine men_.” I question, however, whether this
epithet is not similar to that of the {84} Illinois, and the
Llenilenape, or “original and genuine men,” as it is translated, of
the Delawares.[91] The name of Akansa or Arkansa, if ever generally
assumed by the natives of this territory, is now, I am persuaded,
scarcely ever employed; they generally call themselves O-guah-pa or
Osark, from which last epithet, in all probability, has been derived
the name of the river and its people; indeed, I have heard old French
residents in this country, term it Riviere des Arks or d’Osark.
They employ artificial means to eradicate that pubescence from their
bodies, which is, indeed, naturally scanty. The angle of the eye is
usually elongated, but never turned up exteriorly, as it is said,
in common with the Tartars, by Humboldt, to be the case with the
Mexicans.
Although they may be said to be taciturn, compared with Frenchmen,
their passions are not difficult to excite.
As hunters, they are industrious, but pay little attention to
agriculture; and pleased by intercourse with the whites, they are not
unwilling to engage as boatmen and hunters.
About a century ago, father Charlevoix describes the Arkansas as
occupying four villages; that which he visited was situated on the
bank of the Mississippi, in a little meadow, which was (in 1819)
M’Lane’s landing, the only contiguous spot free from inundation.
The people called Akansas by this author, were then made up of
the confederated remnants of ruined tribes. The villages which he
visited, called themselves Ouyapes, evidently the O-guah-pa. On the
Arkansa, six miles from the landing, there was a second village,
consisting of the Torimas and Topingas. Six miles higher were the
Sothouis, and a little further was the village of the Kappas;[92]
these are again the same people as the Quapaws or O-guah-pas.
{85} In the time of Du Pratz, the Arkansas had all retired up
the river of this name, and were living about twelve miles from
the entrance of White river. They were still said to be pretty
considerable in numbers, and had been joined by the Kappas, the
Michigamias,[93] and a part of the Illinois. He likewise remarks,
that they were no less distinguished as warriors than hunters, and
that they had succeeded in intimidating the restless and warlike
Chicasaws.[94] Indeed, the valour and the friendship of the
Arkansas is still gratefully remembered by the Canadians and their
descendants, and it is much to be regretted that they are making
such evident approaches towards total destruction. The brave manner
in which they opposed the Chicasaws, has long ensured them the quiet
possession of their present country. Among the most extraordinary
actions which they performed against those perfidious Indians, is the
story which has been related to me by major Lewismore Vaugin,[95] one
of the most respectable residents in this territory. The Chicasaws,
instead of standing their ground, were retreating before the Quapaws,
whom they had descried at a distance, in consequence of the want of
ammunition. The latter understanding the occasion, were determined
to obviate the excuse, whether real or pretended, and desired the
Chicasaws to land on an adjoining sand-beach of the Mississippi,
giving them the unexpected promise of supplying them with powder
for the contest. The chief of the Quapaws then ordered all his men
to empty their powder-horns into a blanket, after which, he divided
the whole with a spoon, and gave the half to the Chicasaws. They
then proceeded to the combat, which terminated in the killing of 10
Chicasaws, and the loss of five prisoners, with the death of a single
Quapaw.
I am informed, that it is a custom of the Quapaws, after firing the
first volley, to throw aside their guns, and make a charge with their
tomahawks.
{86} The treacherous Osages, to whom they are naturally allied by the
ties of consanguinity, at one period claimed the assistance of the
Quapaws, with the secret intention of betraying them to destruction.
Arriving near the scene of action, and discovering, as was said,
the encampment of the supposed enemy, the Osages parted from their
friends, under pretence of ambuscading the enemy. Their conduct,
however guarded, had not, it seems, been sufficient to remove the
suspicions of the wary leader of the Quapaws, who now concerted
measures of security. The Quapaws made their fires as usual, but
secretly left them, in order to watch the motions of the Osages, who,
as it had been suspected, crept up to their encampment in the dead of
night, and fired a volley near the fires, not doubting but they had
destroyed those who had seemingly confided in their friendship. But
at this instant, the Quapaws, sufficiently prepared, arose from their
concealment, and exercised a just chastisement on the traitors.
The social regulations, as well as the superstitions and ideas of
the supernatural entertained by the Quapaws, are no way materially
distinct from those which are practised by their eastern and northern
neighbours. The most simple testimonies of attachment, without the
aid of solemn vows, are thought sufficient to complete a conjugal
felicity, which, where all are equal, in wealth and property, can
only be instigated through the desire of personal gratification or
mutual attachment, and can but seldom be attended with that coldness
and disgust, which is but too common, where this sacred tie is knit
by avarice. Neither is this contract controlled by any unnatural and
overruling policy. The obligation to decorum and the essential ties
of society are not abandoned by the Indian, in consequence of his
being freed from that perpetual restraint, which appears to have been
requisite in civilized society. The father can recall his daughter
from {87} the habitation of one who has rendered himself odious to
his child. The husband can abandon the wife who has made herself
obnoxious to his house and family. They are only united by the bonds
of mutual esteem and reciprocal friendship; they will, of course,
endeavour to deserve it of each other, as affording a gratification
to themselves, no less than to their parents and relatives.
As the marriage is never ostentatious, or strictly ceremonious, so
its disavowal, when not induced by any thing flagrant, is not a
matter to alarm the repose of society. The male children go with
the father, the females attend upon the mother. Children, however
begotten, are dear to a society ever on the brink of extermination.
That any ceremonies, more than the celebration of a frugal and
sober feast, are constantly practised by any of the natives of this
country, is much more than can be satisfactorily proved. Among the
Quapaws, I have been informed, that the husband, on the consummation
of his marriage, presents his wife with the leg of a deer, and she,
in return, offers him an ear of maize, both of which are so many
symbols of that provision against the calls of necessity, which they
are mutually accustomed to provide.[96]
The young and unmarried women of the Quapaws, according to a custom
equally prevalent among many other tribes of Indians, wear their hair
braided up into two parts, brought round to either ear in a cylindric
form, and decorated with beads, wampum, or silver. After marriage
these locks are all unfolded, the decorations laid aside for her
daughters, and her hair, brought together behind in a single lock,
becomes no longer an assiduous object of ornament. According to the
History of the Costume of all Nations, this manner of braiding the
hair appears to have been equally prevalent among the women of {88}
Siberia, Tartary, Turkey, and China. As an expression of the greatest
grief and misfortune, anciently practised by many other nations
of the world, I have, amongst the aborigines of the Missouri, not
unfrequently seen both men and women shave away their hair. It is
not, however, I believe, practised by the Indians of the Mississippi,
nor among the Quapaws and Osages.
The ideas of supernatural agency, entertained by the Arkansas,
are very similar to those which prevail among the natives of the
Missouri. Every family, for example, chooses its _penates_, or
guardian spirit, from among those various objects of creation which
are remarkable for their sagacity, their utility, or power. Some will
perhaps choose a snake, a buffaloe, an owl, or a raven; and many of
them venerate the eagle to that degree, that if one of those birds
should happen to be killed during any expedition, the whole party
immediately return home. The large feathers of the war-eagle, which
they consider talismanic, are sometimes distributed throughout the
nation, as sacred presents, which are expected to act as sovereign
charms to those who wear them.
The cure of diseases, though sometimes attempted with rational
applications, is not unfrequently sought, among the Quapaws, and many
other natives of the continent, in charms and jugglery.
As to the future state, in which they are firm believers, their ideas
are merely deduced from what they see around them. Their heaven for
hunters is at least as rational as that of some of our own fanatics.
For some considerable time after the interment of a warrior and
hunter, his grave is frequented with provision, which, if still
remaining, after a reasonable lapse of time, is considered as a sure
presage that the deceased has arrived at a bountiful hunting ground,
and needs no further supply from the earth.
The Quapaws, though no greater proficients in music than the rest
of the Indians, have, however, {89} songs appropriated to love, to
death, and to battle, but which are merely so many simultaneous
effusions of the heart, accompanied by rude and characteristic airs
and dances.
It is hardly necessary to detail the dress of the Arkansas, which
scarcely, to my view, in any respect, differs from that of the
Delawares, Shawnees, or Chipeways. Its component parts are, as usual,
mocasins for the feet; leggings which cover the leg and thigh; a
breech-cloth; an overall or hunting shirt, seamed up, and slipped
over the head; all of which articles are made of leather, softly
dressed by means of fat and oily substances, and often rendered
more durable by the smoke with which they are purposely imbued. The
ears and nose are adorned with pendents, and the men, as among many
other Indian tribes, and after the manner of the Chinese, carefully
cut away the hair of the head, except a lock on the crown, which is
plaited and ornamented with rings, wampum, and feathers. Many of
them, in imitation of the Canadian French, wear handkerchiefs around
their heads, but in the manner of a turban. Some have also acquired
the habit of wearing printed calicoe shirts next to the skin.
The younger Indians, as I am informed, notwithstanding the neglect of
renewing their dress, are so partial to cleanliness of the skin, that
they practice bathing both winter and summer.[97]
FOOTNOTES:
[73] The name of _Thyrsanthus_, given by Mr. Elliott, has been
already employed for another genus.--NUTTALL.
[74] See _post_, note 133.--ED.
[75] Fort Smith. See chapter viii.--ED.
[76] Probably Charles Bogy, as the name is given by later writers. He
was a native of Kaskaskia, Illinois, who came to Arkansas Post with
the federal troops which took possession in 1804.--ED.
[77] For a brief history of Arkansas Post, see Cuming’s Tour, volume
iv of our series, note 195.--ED.
[78] Of these merchants, Lewis may be the Eli I. Lewis who was clerk
of Arkansas County from 1821–29. Local histories mention none of the
others save the Frenchman, Frederick Noteribe. He took part in the
French Revolution and was an army officer during the consulate, but
left France when Napoleon became emperor. Coming to Arkansas about
1815 or 1818, he became a wealthy planter, being considered in the
forties the most prominent man in the county. He died of cholera in
1849, at New Orleans.--ED.
[79] The loose system pursued by the Spanish in making land grants
caused much trouble after jurisdiction passed to the United States.
In 1804 President Jefferson appointed commissioners to examine land
titles in the newly-acquired territory, and considerable legislation
resulted. Most of these large grants were finally invalidated
(1847–48), on the ground of indefiniteness; among them, the Winter
grant referred to in the text. This grant was made (1797) to Elisha,
William, and Gabriel Winter, William Russell, and Joseph Stillwell.
Other large grants in the same region were made to Captain Don Joseph
Vallière, on White River (1793); Don Carlos de Villemont, commandant
of the post (1795); and Baron de Bastrop (1799).--ED.
[80] A much earlier settlement was made by Chevalier de Tonti,
who, in 1685, proceeding from the fort of the Illinois, recently
established, down to the mouth of the Mississippi, in order to second
the unfortunate La Salle, and not finding him, ascended the river
in order to return to his post. In his way he entered the Arkansa,
and proceeded up to the village of that nation, with whom he made an
alliance, and left 10 of his people, at their earnest request, to
settle among them. This small party, occasionally augmented by the
Canadians who descended the river, keeping on peaceable terms with
the natives, and intermarrying amongst them, continually maintained
their ground, though rather by adopting the manners of the Indians,
and becoming hunters, than by any regular industry or attention
to the arts and conveniences of civilized life. Families of this
mixed race are now scattered along the banks of the Arkansa, to the
extremity of the present Quapaw reservation.
Had the unfortunate grant of Mr. Law been carried into effect,
which proposed to settle at, and round the present village of Arkansas,
9000 Germans from the Palatinate, we should now probably have witnessed
an extensive and flourishing colony, in place of a wilderness, still
struggling with all the privations of savage life.--NUTTALL.
[81] Pierre-François-Xavier de Charlevoix (1682–1761) was admitted to
the Jesuit order in 1698. In 1720 he went to Canada, ascended the St.
Lawrence, crossed Illinois, and descended the Mississippi. Passing
by the Gulf to St. Domingo, he returned to France in December, 1722,
and as a result of his tour wrote an authoritative history of New
France.--ED.
[82] Charlevoix’s Historical Journal, p. 307, London
Edition.--NUTTALL.
[83] The Arikara. See Bradbury’s _Travels_, our volume v, note
76.--ED.
[84] The Quapaw belong to the Siouan family; the Omaha, Ponca, Osage,
and Kansa being their nearest kindred. In prehistoric time, the
Siouan stock dwelt east of the Mississippi. The five tribes mentioned
constituted one nation, which dwelt near the Ohio River; the Illinois
called them Arkansa. When, in the course of their migration westward,
the Siouan tribes separated, at the mouth of the Ohio, those who
turned down the Mississippi became known as the Quapaw, meaning
“the down-stream people.” The rest, who went up the river, received
the name Omaha, “those going against the current.” See Dorsey,
“Migrations of Siouan Tribes,” in _The American Naturalist_, xx, p.
211.
Notwithstanding Nuttall’s account, the Quapaw are doubtless the
same Indians whom De Soto encountered in this region. It is surprising
that our author does not think of identifying them with the “Capaha” of
La Vega. He may have been misled by the name “Pacaha,” which he takes
(see Appendix) from the “Gentleman of Elvas” and Biedma (see _post_,
note 87). The seat of the Quapaw in De Soto’s time is variously placed,
by modern students, on the Red, White, St. Francis, and Mississippi
rivers; but it is agreed that, roughly speaking, their territory was
the lower Arkansas valley. In the early days of French exploration,
they were still partly east of the Mississippi.
The Quapaw lands were purchased by treaties in 1818 and 1824
(see _post_ note 102), and the tribe was removed during the winter
of 1825–26 to a reservation in the extreme northeast corner of
Indian Territory. At that time it numbered 158 men, 123 women, and
174 children; the present population is about 275, and the tribe is
practically civilized.--ED.
[85] Henri de Tonty (Italian form, Tonti) was the son of an Italian
refugee at Paris. The father was the originator of the form of life
insurance known from the inventor as tontine. In 1678 Henri sailed from
Rochelle with La Salle, and with him (1682) descended the Mississippi.
After this expedition, Tonty returned to the Illinois and was there
engaged in the fur-trade until 1702. In 1686, hearing of La Salle’s
ill-fated attempt to found a colony on the Texas coast, he sought in
vain to find him with a relief party. (See Cuming’s _Tour_, volume
iv of our series, note 195.) In 1702 he joined D’Iberville in lower
Louisiana, and his subsequent career is unknown. Tonty having lost a
hand by the explosion of a grenade in the Sicilian wars, wore in place
of the lost member a metal hand covered with a glove, which on several
occasions he used to good purpose on disorderly Indians, gaining their
regard as great “medicine.”
Nuttall is in error in assigning the first visit of Tonty to the
Quapaw to the year 1685. La Salle and his followers ascended the
Arkansas in March, 1682, and in the open space in the midst of the
Quapaw village raised a cross bearing the arms of France, taking formal
possession of the country in the name of their king. The official
report of this occurrence was dated March 13–14, 1682. See document in
Margry, _Découvertes et Établissements des Français_ (Paris, 1877),
ii, p. 181. For a secondary account, see Parkman, _La Salle_ (Boston,
1892), index. In 1686, as Tonty ascended the Mississippi after his vain
search for La Salle, he visited the Arkansas village and left six men
to hold a post. Nuttall seems to have confused the two visits.--ED.
[86] Samuel Purchas, born in Essex about 1575, attempted to continue
the work of Hakluyt, and collected numerous MSS. in addition to
those left to him by the latter. Several editions of _Hakluytus
Posthumus; or Purchas, his pilgrimes_, were published in London, the
best being that of 1626. The abstracts of the journals printed are
imperfect, for Purchas in his editorial work was neither accurate nor
judicious. Most of the material is now accessible in better editions;
but Purchas’s collection still has value for the student, because it
contains some accounts not recorded elsewhere. Volumes iii and iv
deal with America; the account of De Soto’s explorations is in volume
iv.--ED.
[87] Garcilaso Inca de la Vega, born at Cuzco about 1540, was the
son of a member of an illustrious Spanish family and on his mother’s
side was of the Peruvian blood royal. His history of Peru is the
chief original ancient authority, and includes a narrative of De
Soto’s explorations, based, it is said, on the account given him by
a soldier who took part in the expedition. It is one of the three
important sources of our information regarding De Soto’s wanderings.
The others are, the narrative by the “Gentleman of Elvas,” who was
a Portuguese adventurer in De Soto’s company, and that of Biedma,
a Spanish factor on the expedition. For a critical discussion of
the value of these sources, see Hakluyt Society _Publications_, ix,
introduction; this volume contains Hakluyt’s translation of the
account of the “Gentleman of Elvas” (London, 1851).--ED.
[88] On the Kaskaskia Indians, see André Michaux’s _Travels_, in our
volume iii, note 132.--ED.
[89] Le Page Du Pratz went to Louisiana in 1718 with a colony of
eight hundred men sent out by John Law’s West India Company. He was
a planter there for sixteen years, and travelled extensively through
the territory, being overseer of the public plantations under the
Company, also after the crown resumed control. The French original
of his _History of Louisiana_ appeared in 1758, being Englished and
published in London in 1763; second edition 1764.--ED.
[90] Du Pratz, History of Louisiana, p. 61.--NUTTALL.
_Comment by Ed._ Father Zénobe Membré, a Recollect friar in La
Salle’s Company, reported to his superior: “I cannot tell you the
civility and kindness we received from these barbarians.... They are so
well formed that we were in admiration at their beauty.” See Parkman,
_La Salle_, p. 279.
[91] Various interpretations of the meaning of _Lenno Lenapi_ have
been given. _Lenno_ means genuine or real, and _Lenapi_ signifies
male. The combination denoted a race of eminent antiquity, valor, and
wisdom, and may best, perhaps, be rendered in English as “manly men.”
The character thus boastfully ascribed to themselves by the Delawares
was apparently confirmed by the name “grandfather” applied to them by
kindred tribes. _Illini_ is the Illinese equivalent of _Lenno_. See
Schoolcraft, _History, Condition and Prospects of the Indian Tribes_
(Philadelphia, 1851–57), v, p. 1360; vi, p. 177.--ED.
[92] Charlevoix, Hist. p. 306, 307. Lond. Ed.--NUTTALL.
[93] Michigamies was the name given by the French to several tribes
of Algonquian stock who lived on Lake Michigan. The designation
sometimes included the Mascoutin, or Fire-Indians, and the Illinese.
See Croghan’s _Journals_, volume i of our series, note 111.--ED.