I left Augusta by the South Carolina Railroad for Charleston, stopping
at Aiken, a dining station on the road, where a hurried dinner was
taken, and the bell rung when the party was half through, which induced
one of the number to snatch a roasted fowl, to the amusement of the
passengers and chagrin of the landlord. The distance was one hundred
and thirty-six miles, mostly in light soil and pine wood region. There
were some good plantations. When in sight of the Four Mile House I
recognised the spot which I had visited some years previous. The great
oak trees were still standing as if clad in mourning, with the moss
three or four feet in length hanging from the branches.
In the low humid regions of Texas, and upon the banks of rivers, are
found large quantities of this material, which is dried and used for
mattresses, cushions, etc., and is quite an article of commerce. My
mind was carried back to my former retreat on Sullivan’s Island, upon
which is situated Fort Moultrie, and which is the resort and residence
of many who fly thither to enjoy the sea air, and to escape the fevers
produced from the low banks of the Ashley and Cooper rivers, and the
marshes in the neighborhood.
I tarried six days enjoying the hospitalities of numerous friends
whom I had known there, and in Cuba. My health had suffered some from
exposure, and I was happy to repose myself. The steamer Gov. Dudley
took me to Wilmington, N.C., upon Cape Fear river.
The great quantity of saw-dust from the steam mills and bark from the
tannery, filled up the low places. The trade of the place is in pitch,
tar, and turpentine. I crossed over the river to look at the rice
fields, which at will are flooded from the river. Gangs of negroes were
engaged in hoeing and pulling out weeds.
Our landlord gave us the best the place afforded. But he was a wag,
and had placed the sharpest-breasted turkey I had ever met with on the
table. Standing at the head, he disarmed all complaint by saying: “Now,
gentlemen, I wish to call your attention to this bird. He was kept for
the races, and could outrun any turkey in all Wilmington.” A burst of
laughter ensued, and all were delighted with the dinner. We proceeded
from Wilmington to Waynesburg on the Neuse river, eighty miles, and
were obliged to take stage over a corduroy road, the railway not being
yet constructed within seventy miles of Abbeville.
Such a horrible jolting I had never experienced, except in the low
grounds along the Bay of Quinte in Canada. Rails and logs were thrown
across marshy soil with but little earth upon them, and from time to
time one found himself with his hat over his eyes, striking the top
of the stage. At three in the morning we found ourselves at the point
where the railway was progressing. The little tavern had only one bed
left. What was to be done? I had made application and secured it. We
were all exhausted with the ride, and six passengers had equal claims
for a portion.
The bed was taken off, placed upon the floor, and occupied by three.
Two took the bed cords, with some of the covering, and I reconnoitred
the house. I found a country doctor’s room with his pharmacy and some
anatomical remains; as good luck would have it for once, his services
had been required elsewhere, so the doctor’s room was occupied, and
Morpheus’s subject lost sight of dry bones. Twenty miles by rail
brought us to Weldon, and from thence to Petersburgh, Virginia, on the
Appomatox river. Here I visited some friends whom I had formerly known
at Tappahanock, on the Rappahannock river, when I first visited the Old
Dominion.
* * * * *
The writer of these Letters, finding his health, which had improved
from his last winter’s trip to Cuba, again suffering in a northern
climate, left the cold weather behind him, and proceeded south,
via Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Richmond, and thence to
Charleston. He made the outside passage to Savannah by steamer, and
thence proceeded by steamboats to Brunswick, in Georgia, passing
through the Florida wilds to Tallahassee, at imminent risk from the
Seminole Indians. From Tallahassee he proceeded to St. Joseph, and
embarked for Mobile and New Orleans, which cities he had left the
spring before. He revisited the island of Cuba during the winter, and
returned in the spring to the Crescent City. He took steamer bound up
the Red river to Natchitoches and Alexandria; returned and visited
Natchez, Mississippi, a few days after the great tornado, which
destroyed a large portion of the city under the hill, and did immense
damage in the city on the bluff. Many lives were lost, and a fleet of
flat-boats and steamers sunk. He then proceeded up the Mississippi to
Memphis, Tennessee, and St. Louis, Missouri; from the latter place
he embarked for Louisville, Kentucky, and Cincinnati. His next route
was via Wheeling, Virginia, over the beautiful Cumberland pass of the
Alleghany mountains to Hagerstown and Frederick, Maryland; thence to
Baltimore; up to Philadelphia, and so home.
To avoid repetition, and inasmuch as the cities and countries of our
Union are so generally known, and, not to tax the reader, he has
avoided the recounting of the thousand incidents of travel which would
require too much space in this limited work. Suffice it to say, he
returned in improved health, with a superficial knowledge, at least, of
the products and resources of our country.
1840.