At Chicago I found three young men from New-England, who were
travelling to see the western country. We hired two horses and a wagon,
at seventy-five cents a day, and started together into the interior of
Illinois, west of Chicago.
It was past the middle of October; the air was mild and clear, and the
earth dry. The prairie, which in the spring of the year is so wet and
muddy as to be difficult to pass, we found dry, and a good smooth road
over it; so we travelled merrily on. At the distance of twelve miles
the ground became elevated a few feet, and we found a fine grove of
timber, a few log houses, and the Oplane river. At this place the roads
fork--one goes south, to Ottawa on the Illinois river--the other goes
in a westerly direction, to Galena on the Mississippi. Stages run from
Chicago, over each of these roads to both places, carrying the U.S.
mail.
The roads in this country are in a state of nature. But the ground is
so smooth, and so entirely free from stones, that when the earth is
dry, you do not find better roads at the north. Indeed, you can travel
in a carriage over most part of the country, woods and all.
We took the Galena road, forded the river, a stream about four rods
wide, and passed on, over a beautiful, open, prairie country, here
and there a log house, a small grove of timber, or small stream of
water; the land high, dry and rich, and arrived at night at Naper's
settlement, on the Du Page river, thirty-seven miles from Chicago.
Naper was the first settler here. He keeps a public house, very decent
accommodations; has a store and mills, and is forming a village around
him. Here is a large grove of good timber.
We now left the Galena road and took a course more northerly to the
_big_ and _little woods_, on Fox river. In travelling twelve miles we
came to the settlement at the lower end of "little woods." In the space
of three miles, we found about twenty families, all in comfortable log
houses; fields fenced and cultivated; a school house erecting, and
a master hired to keep two months. And among the whole number only
one family had been there two years; the remainder had none of them
been there quite a year. The houses were built near the timber, and a
beautiful rich prairie opened before them.
The man who had been here two years, had a hundred acres under fence;
raised a large crop of corn and wheat, and had sold at Chicago, only
thirty miles distant in a straight line, two hundred and twenty bushels
of potatoes for as many dollars. He had built a weir across the river
to catch fish, which I walked down to see. He took his boat, went out
to the pen, and dipped out with a small net half a boat load of fish.
This is a land of plenty sure enough; and if a man cannot here find
the luxuries of the city, he can obtain all the necessaries of life in
abundance.
Fox river is a clear stream of water, about twenty rods wide, having a
hard limestone bottom, from two to three feet deep, a brisk current,
and generally fordable. On its banks, and on some other streams, we
occasionally found ledges of limestone; but other than that, we found
no rocks in the State.
We here forded the river, and travelled all day on its western bank.
We found less timber on this side of the river. On the east side, it
is generally lined with timber to the depth of a mile or more; but the
west side is scarcely skirted with it. It is somewhat singular and
unaccountable, but we found it universally to be the fact, that the
east side of all the streams had much the largest portion of timber.
We passed a number of log houses, all of which had been built the
present season, and came at last to the upper house on the river. The
man told us, he had been here with his family only three days.--In
attempting to get at the head of population, we more than once thought
of the story of the Ohio pumpkin vine; and concluded if we accomplished
it, we should be obliged to run our horses. He said, in the morning,
his was the upper house on the river; but a man had made a location
above him, and perhaps had already built him a house.
We went a few miles above this, forded the river, passed through
the woods into the open prairie, and started down the east side. We
travelled on, until it became dark. We were in an open prairie, without
any road, a cloudy night, and had no means of directing our course. It
was a great oversight, but we had no fire works with us, and the wolves
began to howl around at a distance. We concluded, we should be obliged
to stay out that night, and without any fire. A man accustomed to the
new country, would probably have thought nothing of it; but to me, who
had never lodged out doors in my life, to be obliged to camp out in a
new country, and among the wolves, and such other wild animals as chose
to come along, it was not quite so pleasant. I confess I began to have
some misgivings in my own mind, whether this new world ought, in fact,
to be called a paradise.
We knew that if there were any houses in that region, they would be
near the woods; we accordingly obliqued to the right, and after some
time travelling saw a light, which led us to a house.
These log houses generally have one large room, in which the family
cook, eat and lodge; and if any strangers come, they lodge in the same
room with the family, either in a bed or on the floor, as may be the
most convenient. They are built of logs locked together at the corners;
the interstices filled with timber split like rails, and plastered over
with clay. The roofs are covered with shingles about four feet long;
the chimneys are built on the outside, with wood, and lined with clay;
and the floor is made of split timber. Many of them are quite neat and
warm.
The next day, we passed a few miles down the river, crossed it, and
travelled twenty or thirty miles west, towards Rock river. Our whole
course lay through an open prairie. We could see timber on either
hand. This day we found a number of gravel hills, the tops of which
were coarse, naked gravel, and looked white at a distance. They were
from ten to twenty feet high. We walked up to the top of the highest
one, and had an extended view of the surrounding country. From this
elevation, we could see the timber on the border of Rock river.
We obliqued more to the south, came to a grove of timber and a house.
Here we stayed that night. The next day we took a southeasterly
direction, passed one house, and came to Fox river, where the Galena
road crosses it. We forded the river, and travelling over an open
rolling prairie twenty miles in a southeasterly direction, came to
Walker's grove, on the Du Page river, forty miles south of Chicago.
Here we found a tavern, saw and grist mill, and something of a village,
having two or three framed houses among the log huts.
The U.S. mail stage passes from Chicago through this place, Ottawa,
Peoria and Springfield to St. Louis; and agreeably to our previous
arrangement, I here left my companions, who returned to Chicago; and
I took the stage for the south. I had travelled with them just long
enough to be fully sensible of the great loss I sustained at parting.
Thus it is with the traveller. He forms acquaintances and finds
friends; but it is only to part with them, probably forever.
Before I go into the lower part of the State, I shall stop here,
and say a few words of the appearance, present condition and future
prospects of the northern part of Illinois. I feel in some degree
qualified to do this, not only from my own observation, but from
information obtained from intelligent and respectable sources.