CHAPTER XIII.

There is an independent frankness in these western people that I

admire. It is a kind of individuality of character--every one appears

to act out himself, without reference to others. At the north, people

are too apt to follow the multitude, or a particular file leader;

and by them, shape their opinions and actions. In order to tell

whether they will do a particular act, they must look about them, and

ascertain what others will say of it. The politician must conform to

the usages of his party, whatever they may be. He must think as they

think, and act as they act, whether it be agreeable to the dictates

of his own conscience or not. The pious lady must be exactly in the

fashion--conform to certain leaders--be charitable by rule--and kind,

in the most approved mode. If any one has the boldness to take an

independent course, in fashion, politics or religion, he is looked upon

with suspicion, as a dangerous innovator, and must not be tolerated.

The dogs of war are let loose upon him, and he is hunted down for

entertaining an opinion of his own. In this manner, individual

character becomes swallowed up and lost in that of the multitude.

But in this region, nature is true to herself. The useless and

cumbersome shackles of custom and party are thrown aside with

disdain; and the individual walks forth in his own native freedom and

independence. He does not shape his course by what his neighbors may

say, do or think; but acts according to the dictates of his own heart,

and from his own opinion of right and wrong. He is charitable, kind

and hospitable--not in a grudging, supercilious manner; or in a way

calculated to display himself; but with such an air of open-hearted

welcome, as to make the recipient feel at ease, and doubles the value

of the kindness bestowed. How can man be niggardly and mean, among the

teeming prairies and stately forests of the West, where nature herself,

by showering down her blessings with a bountiful hand, teaches him also

to be liberal!

And I have often to myself reversed the question and asked, how can

northern people be other than inhospitable and niggardly, living in

such a crabbed climate, and on such a barren soil. They cannot, in

general, afford to be liberal; and were it otherwise, the severe labor

and economy--the continual dealing in small things--the constant rack

of brains, to find some method to turn a penny to advantage--that must

be gone through with, to gain a large estate, seem to drive out of the

head of the possessor all notions of liberality, and tend to steel the

heart against noble acts of kindness. That which costs much, and is

rarely obtained, is highly valued, and not lightly parted with. We are

not well educated in the school of hospitality. We awkwardly perform

its teachings--seldom with gracefulness and a hearty welcome.

Among our passengers, there were twenty-three negro slaves, men and

women; bought in Kentucky by negro speculators, to be transported to

Natchez, where the market is high, to be sold. One of them was taken

with the cholera, and in twelve hours died. He was put into a rough

box, and when we stopped to wood, buried on shore. This was the only

case we had, and the only one I ever witnessed. It is a dreadful

disease; but has been too often professionally described, for me to

attempt it.

These negroes are singular beings. Although one of their number had

died; and although they were slaves, and going to be sold to, they

knew not whom, or what hardships they might be made to endure, yet

they were always merry--talking, laughing, singing, dancing, in one

continued round. At every place we stopped, they would run on shore,

and while one sung, clapped his hands, and beat time with his foot,

the others would foot it merrily on the smooth ground. Knowing their

destination, their thoughtless gayety sometimes produced disagreeable

sensations. There are some situations, however, where ignorance and

thoughtlessness are a blessing. They were not confined at all, but

appeared to be kindly treated, and to enjoy every liberty they might,

consistent with their situation.

The banks of the Mississippi look high enough at low water; probably

thirty feet; presenting a raw edge next the stream, and generally

covered with a dense forest of lofty trees; yet at high water, they are

generally overflowed, except at the high bluffs. The most prominent of

these, are what are called the Iron Banks, Chickasaw Bluffs, Walnut

Hills, and the site of the city of Natchez--all these are on the east

side of the river. I do not remember of seeing a single high bluff on

the west side, below the mouth of the Ohio. There are occasionally

small elevations over which the river does not flow; and villages

erected on them. But every few miles without regard to overflows, log

houses are erected in the wilderness, inhabited by woodcutters; and

their only employment seems to be, to supply the steamboats with wood.

Although wood is cheap, being generally $1,50 a cord, above the mouth

of the Ohio, and from there to Natchez $2,00, yet the demand is so

great, and the forest so near, they make quite a lucrative business of

it.

The river is very crooked, sometimes going five miles to gain one; has

many islands, and some places, full of snags. There are two or three

snag boats employed on the river, and when they get them chiefly out,

the Missouri, which seems to take upon itself the chief regulation

of the stream, brings down at high water a reinforcement equal to the

first supply; so that to keep the river clear of snags, is like the

labor of Sisyphus, who was doomed to roll a stone up a hill, and the

moment he got it near the top, it would roll down again.

The introduction of steamboats on the western waters, has

revolutionized the country. They have opened the deep recesses of the

West, to the free access of mankind, and let in the light of day upon

them. The half-horse and half-alligator race are no longer to be found;

but the inhabitants of this part of creation look, and talk, and act,

and live--very much like human beings. The refinements, elegancies and

luxuries of life are not so generally found here, as in the Atlantic

States; but all the necessaries are every where abundant.

In Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, and all along the river Mississippi, I

found the inhabitants civil and kind; and in no one instance did I ask

for a meal of victuals in vain. It might, sometimes, be a homely one,

and once I recollect, it consisted of meat and bread; but those who

have such a mawkish sensibility that they cannot relish the simple fare

of the forrester, ought never to set a foot on the western world.

The flat boats are still in use on the river. We passed hundreds of

them; some loaded with live stock, others with corn, cotton, &c. They

have hardly any resemblance of a boat. They are sixty or seventy feet

long, ten wide, having corner posts and a square form like a house, and

a flat roof. The current floats them down the stream to the destined

port, the cargoes and boats are both sold, and the hands take passage

on board the steamboats, home.

We stopped at all the villages and towns of any size on the river,

to take and leave passengers and freight; but books give such an

accurate description of them, as to render any particular notice

here unnecessary. Memphis is the most pleasant, Vicksburg the most

flourishing, and Natchez the largest--all on the east side of the river.

There are no large towns on the west side of the river below the mouth

of the Ohio. As prominent as any, perhaps, is New-Madrid, situated

just within the southern border of the State of Missouri. It was

once a much larger village than at present. It is memorable for the

romantic history of its origin under General Morgan, and for the great

earthquakes in 1811 and 1812. Mr. Flint says that these earthquakes

were more severe than any known in our part of the continent. The

shocks were felt more or less throughout the whole western country;

but they were more severe and produced the most disastrous effects in

the region of New-Madrid.--The grave yard of the village, with all

its sleeping tenants was precipitated into the river--the trees were

violently thrown against each other, bent in various directions or

prostrated--the earth burst in many places, and earth, sand and water

were thrown high into the air--thousands of acres were sunk and many

ponds formed--the river became dammed up and flowed backwards--islands

sunk in the stream, and boats as they passed shared the same fate--the

birds of the air became terrified, descended to the earth and flew

into the arms of man to shelter themselves from the commotion of

nature--the whole country for a time became inundated, but as it was

thinly inhabited few lives only were lost. History does not record an

earthquake attended with more terrific circumstances and threatening

a more exterminating war with man and nature, than this. The thriving

country about the village was made desolate, but now it is slowly

regaining its former condition. In this region the country is rich

and beautiful, but the many ponds made by the earthquake render it

unhealthy. New-Madrid is, however, quite a village, transacts much

business and is the most noted landing place for steamboats on the west

side of the river below St. Louis.

Trip to the West and Texas comprising a journey of eight thousand miles, through New-York, Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, Louisiana and Texas, in the autumn and winter of 1834-5. · 第 13 / 30 章