Chapter XVI: Letter IV: Park House, Albion, Aug. 20, 1821 (5)

8th. At day light we grounded on a sand bar for a few minutes; and at eight o'clock reached Troy, a small town of Indiana; and afterwards passed Anderson's river, from fifty to sixty yards wide.[131] The wind rising, obliged us to anchor a short distance below. I landed on the Indiana side, and walked three or four miles down the bank. I found a little cabin, situated on a small plantation, surrounded on all sides with high rocks, except against the river. The soil was so rich that the Indian corn was the largest I have ever seen; the owner said, it was eighteen feet high, but I think he made the most of it. I picked up a stick about six feet long, and, by measuring it with that and my own height, I should judge the highest of it was from fourteen to sixteen feet. There were great quantities of beans, pompions, and melons, running on and between the corn, all very luxuriant; in short, much larger than I ever {121} saw before or since. I then went to the next cabin; most of the way very rocky, but there the country more open; the owner was winnowing wheat, by the wind without any fan. The wheat was very coarse; it was sown in the spring; he said the land on the river was too rich for wheat, and subject to floods in the winter and spring; and when sown in the spring subject to rust or blight. But Indian corn came to high perfection. I saw a bear skin hanging up to dry; he informed me the country some distance back was rough and unsettled, and abounded with bears, wolves, deer, racoons, opossums, polecats, and other wild animals; and that they had frequently hunting parties. I asked him if a wounded bear was not a dangerous animal; he said he had frequently wounded them, and never saw one attempt to turn. He had, during the course of his life, killed more than a hundred. In their hunting parties they have always some stout dogs with them; but, he said, it was common for one man to {122} go alone, but never without dogs. Here I tasted the ripe fruit of the pawpaw or papaw, an extremely rich fruit, in flavour something like a pine-apple. I did not relish it; this they told me was often the case at first tasting it, but when accustomed to it people were fond of it. We did not see any more of these trees on the Ohio, but my son and Mr. C. saw a great many of them on the Wabash, in their voyage up that river. From this cabin I walked two miles, mostly through woods, to another; no provisions to be procured here, the people being newly settled. In this walk I passed fourteen or fifteen wild turkeys, in a field. As they only gently walked into the woods, I did not suspect they were wild ones; but mentioning them at the cabin, I was told there were no tame turkeys for many miles, but plenty of wild ones.

[131] Anderson's Creek, rising in Crawford County, serves in the latter part of its course as the dividing line between Spencer and Perry counties. In high water it is navigable for flatboats for about thirty miles. Thomas Lincoln came with his family to Anderson's Creek in 1815, and with the help of Abraham ran a ferry until the fall of 1817.

Troy, near the mouth of the creek, was laid out in 1818.--ED.

We returned to our ark, but, the wind continuing high, we could not proceed. At sunset we had a heavy tempest; the storm increased after we were a-bed. The {123} thunder and lightning, and the wind equally strong, and afterwards the rain poured down in torrents; and, driven on by the winds, came into our ark in every direction; so that most of us got completely wet in our beds. It continued for an hour, and was, by far, the most awful storm I ever knew. It made our ark shake very much, as we lay in shallow water, the wind driving us against the sand; but we were in no danger of being driven on shore, as the water shallowed very gradually, and we were a considerable distance from the bank. We had no large trees near us; and indeed it is advisable to avoid anchoring, during a thunder storm, near heavy timbers, as old trees frequently then fall.

9th. In the morning we set forward; afterwards some of us landed in Kentucky, and went about a mile to a horse-mill, where we procured some flour and vegetables. We continued on the river banks for near five miles; the country mostly in a state of nature. In the afternoon we {124} went to a cabin, and purchased some provisions; here we saw a small piece of land planted with cotton, just beginning to ripen. The person who belonged to it was from South Carolina; he said this cotton was as good, if not better, than that in Carolina. But most I have heard speak on the subject, say that the southern cotton is much better than that on the Ohio; and that it will not pay for raising in Kentucky, Indiana, and Illinois, except a little for home use. In the evening we passed some very high rocks named "The Lady Washington," and near them the small town of Rockport, in Indiana.[132] We met with a bad sand-bar, that took us two hours strong exertion to get over. This day twenty-five miles. Weather warm and pleasant; mosquitoes a little troublesome.

[132] As Woods intimates, Rockport, known also as Hanging Rock, received its name from an immense boulder which projected into the Ohio, since removed as an impediment to navigation. The settlement of Rockport began about 1808, and it is now the seat of Spencer County, and the only Indiana town which Woods has mentioned for some pages past, which is of any importance at the present time.--ED.

10th. Soon after day-light we passed Yellow Banks, but we did not see the town. We afterwards passed an island, called in the "Pittsburg Navigator," number seventy. In the evening the men landed, at a small place {125} in Indiana, to get some whiskey, but none to be had, to the great disappointment of our two men, who did not stay to learn the name of the place, but came away in a great rage because there was no whiskey to be had. This was pleasing intelligence to us, as they had been very troublesome when in liquor, especially Thomas. About thirty miles this day.

11th. We had a little rap from a log sunk in the river, and twice we got a-ground before sun-rise. Very early in the morning we passed Green river, 200 yards wide, navigable for many miles; it rises far up in Kentucky; it runs west and south west. At sun-rise we passed Green island, and at eight o'clock reached Evansville,[133] Indiana; it is the county town of Vanderburg; it is not three years old. It is situated near Pigeon creek, a middling size stream in winter, but nearly dry in summer. There is a settlement of English emigrants eight or ten miles back from Evansville, called Saundersville.[134] Several of our fellow-passengers {126} in the Resolution had reached it about a week before, and are now settled there. This morning I first noticed cane growing on the banks; it is an evergreen, and much sought after by cattle in the winter. In the afternoon we reached the town of Hendersonville, or Red Banks, capital of Henderson county, Kentucky.[135] There are about 100 houses, a jail, a court-house, some large tobacco warehouses, and a steam-mill, &c. &c. Here we procured some bread, but no meat to be had. It is situated on a high bank, above high-water mark. The size of the apple-trees showed it had been settled some years. There is much tobacco cultivated in the country to the back of it, and sent to distant markets; but I saw none on the banks of the river. This day 26 miles by water, but very few by land, the river making nearly a circle. The weather extremely hot at night, and much tormented with sand-flies and mosquitoes; the stings of the latter made some of my family swell, and produced great {127} itching, which, if rubbed, occasioned small sores, and made them much worse.

[133] For the history of Evansville, see Hulme's _Journal_, _ante_, note 16.--ED.

[134] See _ante_, note 2. Saundersville, which was platted by John Ingle, did not contain an inhabitant by 1830. Inglefield now occupies the same site.--ED.

[135] A brief account of Hendersonville may be found in Cuming's _Tour_, volume iv of our series, note 175.--ED.

12th. At ten o'clock the wind obliged us to anchor a little above Diamond island. We landed in Indiana, but found no cabins. The woods mostly oak, sugar-maple, hiccory, with but little underwood; a few hazels without nuts; we had seen but few hazels on the river or any where else, except once near the mountains. Near mid-night, one of the men and myself being up, we discovered something near us, which we took for a log, and began pulling from it, when we found our mistake; it was a bear swimming in the river; he came close to that part of the boat where I was standing, and then made off up the river in great haste. We could hear him blow in the water longer than we could see him. Made this day 16 or 17 miles. We continued floating till near two o'clock, when we stuck on the top of a fallen tree, and we were obliged to cut off a bough before we could extricate the ark.

{128} 13th. Passed Straight island, and afterwards Slim island; near it we saw a large flock of pelicans, perhaps near eighty; they were on a sand bar; they were larger than a swan, and of a heavy appearance. Some of us went on shore, in Indiana, and purchased some peaches, pompions, and three fowls for 2_s._ 6_d._, which were paid for in English silver, with which they seemed much pleased, saying they should keep it for a curiosity. They said two little boys, a short time before, killed a large bear in the river, with the paddles of their canoe, having first almost drowned him by rowing round him. At seven o'clock we grounded close to the Wabash island, one mile above the mouth of the Wabash, after coming about 24 miles.

14th. At day-light we got off the sand-bar and passed the mouth of the Wabash, a large river that separates the states of Indiana and Illinois for many miles.[136] Having passed this river, we had Kentucky on the left, and Illinois on the right. When we {129} reached Browns' Island, five miles from the Wabash, and four from Shawneetown; the wind obliged us to anchor on the left side, close to three large flat boats, loaded with flour, bacon, whiskey, tobacco, horses, and pine and cherry planks, for the Orleans' market. They had been 24 days from the falls of Louisville to this place, owing to the state of the water. This day we only came nine miles.

[136] For the Wabash River, see Croghan's _Journals_, volume i of our series, note 107.--ED.

15th. In the morning we moved opposite to Shawneetown, and anchored close to some rocks, amongst keel-boats, arks, &c., some of them for sale. Many disembark here to go by land to Kaskaskia, and St. Louis, on the Mississippi river; and some for the English settlement at the Prairies. It is subject to floods, and that retards its growth. It is the nearest inhabited spot below the mouth of the Wabash, and in the neighbourhood of the United States Saline works, where about 300,000 bushels of salt are made annually. It is the county town of Gallittin, and has a land office for the {130} sale of the government lands, situated in the south east part of the state of the Illinois; extending 80 or 90 miles from the Ohio river towards the north; these united causes draw many to it, and make it a brisk place. There is a bank called the "Bank of Illinois," in good repute, many stores, and several taverns; the principal one, the Steam-boat Hotel, kept by Mr. Hobson from the north of England. There are about 80 houses, mostly of wood, and a wooden jail. The situation of the town is handsome; but being surrounded by low land, that is liable to be inundated, it is rather unhealthy, at least it was so when we were there. We paid off our two men, who soon hired themselves to go with a keel-boat to Nashville, in Tennessee, 200 miles up the Cumberland.

16th. We still remained in our ark, but landed to get some beef, but were too late except for the head and tongue, for which they charged 1_s._ 1½_d._; they killed three beasts the evening before, but all the beef {131} was gone by seven o'clock in the morning; price from three to four and a half cents a pound: the beasts young but not half fat.

Having thus completed our second voyage in safety, we set out to look for a conveyance to the English Prairie, but could not hear of any. I forgot to mention, that, on the ninth of September, whilst I was on shore, those in the ark were offered peaches at 25 cents per bushel, or if they would take five bushels they should have them for a dollar.

17th. In the morning we agreed with Captain Hagan, master of a keel-boat belonging to Vincennes, to take our luggage to the mouth of the Bonpas, about 11 miles from the English Prairie; for the sum of 37½ cents per hundred weight. He agreed to take it at 6000 lbs. without weighing, which came to 5_l._ 1_s._ 3_d._ We could not agree for a waggon to convey us to the Prairies, as I thought they demanded too much.

We took a walk, and just above the town {132} saw a cypress swamp. The cypress is a singular tree, having a great many conical knobs growing round it, at some distance from the stem; they are called cypress knees, and are sometimes used for pails and bee-hives. This tree, at a distance, resembles the yew, but it is not an evergreen. The country round not much settled.

18th. We purchased a few articles to take with us, as we understood they were difficult to be procured at the Prairies; they consisted of an iron oven, some articles of grocery, &c. Many of the store-keepers were very obliging, but the boatmen the very reverse; a rough set of men, much given to drinking whiskey, fighting, and gouging, that is, they fight up and down, trying to put out each others eyes with their fingers and thumbs, and sometimes biting off each others noses or ears. A man, who resides near me, had the top of his nose bitten off, in one of these brutal frays, some years since. This is their common manner of fighting; but it is said that the neighbourhood {133} is improving in buildings and manners.

19th. This was the Sabbath, but not much observed at Shawneetown, there being no place of public worship. The Methodists sometimes hold meetings in a private house, but they are not well attended. There was much drinking and fighting, nor was work wholly laid aside, as we saw several teams out.

20th. I sold our ark for 14 dollars, but gave our skiff in the bargain; the purchaser was going to New Orleans, with fruit and vegetables.

21st. We removed our luggage from the ark, to Mr. Hagan's keel-boat. Captain Hagan had been waiting for some salt from the Saline, but as it did not arrive he would not wait any longer for it; as the water kept falling, he was afraid he should not get up the Wabash if he staid much longer. They went off at three o'clock with our luggage, and a small quantity of salt. Mr. C. and my second son went {134} with them. They took some provisions with them. The rest of us took our dinner and supper at Mr. Hobson's hotel, and slept there. The next day we intended to commence our journey on foot towards the Prairies, although the news just received from thence was unfavourable, that of three deaths, the wife of an Irish gentleman, and two Englishmen. Report said, much sickness prevailed at the Prairies, but this we had heard all the way from Wheeling, of most of the places in advance of us; but, except at Shippingport and Shawneetown, we found none at any place we called at. We, therefore, concluded this might be the case at the Prairies; and, even should the report be correct, we should be no better off by remaining where we were, as many of the inhabitants at Shawneetown were ill.

22d. Having procured some directions from Mr. Hobson concerning our road, at ten o'clock we commenced our journey; we first went through some low rich land, {135} mostly woods. The country not much settled; after walking 10 miles, we stopped at a cabin, and procured some water to make us some tea; this we had brought with us. From this cabin the soil not so good, and but few habitations. On the right of the road there was a marsh; this, most probably, had formerly been the bed of the Wabash. The heat being very great, and the road close, my daughters were greatly fatigued, and their feet being very sore they nearly gave out. In the evening we reached Robinson's or Boon's Mill, otherwise Newhaven, 18 miles from Shawneetown. We found the people at the tavern too ill to take in travellers, but we procured a lodging at the mill. The master and mistress from home on account of ill health; some servants were left at home to take care of the house and business; however, we fared pretty well. Newhaven is situated on the Little, and three miles from the Great Wabash. There is a grist and saw mill, and another large one building, {136} but for what purpose I did not learn; a tavern, and three or four other houses, comprise the whole of the town. The situation is unhealthy, owing to the mills penning back the water so much as to make it stagnant, the land being low between Newhaven and the Great Wabash.

23d. We passed the Little Wabash on the mill dam, it was only a few inches wide on the top, but slanting two or three feet to the water on the upper side, and ten feet or more on the lower side to the water. The water was low, and I did not much like crossing a river, near 100 yards wide, on so narrow a bridge; besides, some of the top was broken away, and there we had to crawl on the slanting timber. But most of my family did not appear to be alarmed. We proceeded slowly, my daughters' feet being very tender. At noon we stopped at the Rev. Samuel Slacum's to dinner; here we met four English and Scotch gentlemen, who had left Shawneetown the afternoon before. After dinner {137} we proceeded with them to the Big Prairies, 12 miles from Newhaven. At the entrance of the Prairies we separated, there being too many of us to hope to be accommodated at one tavern; we procured a lodging at the house of Mr. Hamilton, in the middle of the Prairie. The Big Prairie is a fine-looking place; and as we had been travelling generally surrounded by woods, it looked pleasant to see an open plain, of several miles extent in each direction. Just as we reached Mr. Hamilton's, I found a small land tortoise of about five inches over; the shell was strong, and beautifully clouded. I had never seen one before, or heard there were any in America; but I have seen several since.

Mr. Hamilton had only Indian corn bread, and as we had not been accustomed to it, we did not relish it; but he gave us some good fresh pork, and we had every reason to speak well of our treatment. Mr. Hamilton did not keep a tavern or boarding-house, but only occasionally lodged {138} travellers. It is customary, when travelling in America, to get a lodging at the first house we come to in an evening, for which a charge, (generally a reasonable one,) is made. Mr. Hamilton informed me, this Prairie had been settled eight or nine years; that the soil was very fertile but unhealthy, being surrounded by ponds and swamps. Warm, but no musquetoes.

24th. We arose before day-light, intending to go some distance to breakfast, and to travel leisurely in the middle of the day. We went two miles, through the Prairie, and joined the company we had parted with the preceding evening, and proceeded to the house of Captain Phillips, eight miles to breakfast. Our road was chiefly through woods, and part of it lay through the Hurricane-track, that is where a strong wind, some years back, opened a passage through the woods for a mile in breadth, and some hundred of miles in length; I have heard, from the upper part of the state of Ohio, to the Mississippi river, or {139} beyond it. This Hurricane-track is a great harbour for wild animals and game, as it keeps a large tract of country unoccupied. But as the hunters generally set fire to the weeds, &c. in the autumn, many of the trees are burnt; but, in other places, they lie on each other, and mostly in one direction. Mr. Phillips is a native of Ireland, an officer in the American service, a distiller of whiskey, a farmer, and a cattle dealer. After breakfast our road lay through woods, the country not much cultivated, to Mr. Paine's tavern at Bonpas, a place of six or seven houses, a quarter of a mile from the Big Wabash. The land fertile, and the timber extremely fine near the Bonpas; but much of the land we had passed this day was of very middling quality. Walked 17 miles, the weather not so warm, and no mosquetoes. Here we were informed, that the three deaths we had heard of at the Prairies all proceeded from different causes, and not from any prevalent disorder raging there.

{140} The town of Bonpas not likely to thrive, at least at present, as Oxford is laid out about a mile from it, at the mouth of the Bonpas, on the banks of the Big Wabash; and thus it is better situated for the trade of the Wabash, and equally so for that of the country; for should the Prairies ever be fully settled, their spare produce must find a market by this river, and one of these towns is the only place they can get to it.

25th. After breakfast we went on towards the Prairies; after walking two miles we took the wrong road, being deceived by the marks on the trees, viz. three notches, the road to Palmyra being marked the same. We afterwards inquired and got into the right road; passing through the woods we found many dwarf hazles, with vast quantities of nuts on them; and we soon loaded ourselves with them. We called at a cabin, and there found the gentlemen who had been our companions for the last two days, but we left them there. Two {141} of them are since settled in the English Prairie. About half a mile from the cabin we passed a small Prairie, and soon entered the woods again, and then some barrens. A barren is land nearly destitute of timber, but much overrun with scrubby underwood. A great deal of the land we had passed from Bonpas was good, and some of the timber very fine: I thought these barrens a poor sample of the country. After passing these barrens for more than a mile, we got sight of the Prairies. We first entered the long Prairie, and crossed one corner of it; then passed a small strip of timber, and then entered the English Prairie towards the east corner. Here we had a fine view towards the south-west and north-west, and it was extremely pleasant to see so much open land, with a few trees scattered over it. As we advanced, we saw some men making hay for Mr. Flowers, of Albion; the grass was coarse, and very ripe. We saw some large hay-ricks made in the English manner. Mr. Flowers's {142} flock, of more than 200 hundred sheep, were feeding near the road. I went and looked at them; they were poor and coarse, of different sorts, having been collected from the several places, and on the whole an indifferent flock. We saw the houses of Mr. Flowers and Mr. Birkbeck, and we entered the enclosures of the latter, about a mile from his house. There was a good deal of his land fenced in, but a piece of fallow, of upwards of 20 acres, was all I saw of cultivation. It was towards evening when we reached Mr. Birkbeck's house; we met with a friendly reception from him and his family; we supped with them, and slept at a cabin near.

Having arrived at the end of our journey, I have ceased to keep a regular journal.

On reviewing a journey of this length, we find we have much to thank the Almighty for, in conducting us in safety to the end of it, and in preserving us in health through such changes of climate and difference {143} of diet. As we did not leave England till the 9th of May, it was late in the season for crossing the Atlantic ocean; our ship sailed badly too, and the wind, as is usual in the summer, was from the south and west; and thus it took us 58 days to reach Baltimore from Cowes. Yet, with the exception of sea-sickness, we were all in perfect health. At Baltimore, we remained 16 days; here most of us had a slight bowel-complaint, but we left it perfectly recovered; yet at Fell's Point, where we resided, a very malignant fever broke out while we were there, or, at least, very shortly after we left it. In our journey, of 16 days, from Baltimore to Wheeling, 280 miles, we met with no accident of any kind, and our health continued equally good. In 38 days, from Wheeling to Shawneetown, 906 miles, we had no accident or sickness of any kind, although, from Louisville to Shawneetown, we had two very drunken and troublesome boatmen {144} to deal with. At the latter place we staid seven days, and still continued well, though many of the inhabitants were ill. Four days more took us to the Prairies, where we had the satisfaction of arriving well, and of finding the settlement was healthy, there being only two or three people unwell with agues. In our journey, if we asked the road, we received the best information in the power of the person of whom we inquired to give us. The Custom-house officers, who did not neglect their duty, behaved with great civility. Mr. Macgan, a native of Ireland, of whom we took a house in Baltimore, behaved in a most friendly manner, as did his wife also. The men who drove our waggons I have before spoken highly of, but not more so than they deserved. The same is due to Mr. Ferris, and his employer, Mr. Pemberton. The tavern-keepers were very civil, but not so polite as in England, but I must not forget Mr. Dent and Mr. Vannosdeln; {145} in short, we met with as good treatment as we should in a tour through England; but the manners of the Americans are more rough than those of Englishmen.

For several days I looked over the surrounding land with the intention of purchasing some. I found there were several quarter-sections belonging to the Congress, (as the public land is here called,) but these quarters were not in very good situations; and I had the offer of some entered land, some on which there were a few improvements, and some in its natural state. The first I had offered was at Birks' Prairie, four miles south-west of Wanborough. It belonged to Mr. Jeremiah Birks, the first settler in that prairie, and named after him.[137] Mr. Birks was from home, and his father-in-law, Hugh Collins, Esq. showed me the land; there were upwards of twenty acres of Indian corn, the rest all wood-land, except two or three acres of prairie; the land rich, but rather wet. Mr. Collins, who lived near, also offered me his land; it was a {146} quarter-section, that is, a hundred and sixty acres. Fifteen or sixteen acres were fenced in, fifty acres prairie, the rest wood-land; this land drier than the other, but not so well timbered; that enclosed was partly wood-land and partly prairie, with some dead trees on it. He also offered me his crop and stock, and on the 30th of September I purchased it for nine hundred and forty dollars--two hundred and eleven pounds ten shillings; he received seven hundred of the dollars, and two hundred and forty were due at the land-office. My purchase included on the land two cabins, a stable, a well partly dug, nine acres of Indian corn, from which I had upwards of four hundred bushels; more than three hundred bushels of pompions; a small quantity of cotton; some shalots, and some small beans, much like French beans.[138] The live stock consisted of three cows, three calves, three sheep, upwards of thirty pigs, and a considerable deal of poultry: I afterwards bought of him a heifer for four dollars.

[137] For a brief notice of Captain Birk, see Flower's _Letters from the Illinois_, _ante_, note 57.--ED.

[138] Pompions are pumpkins; shalots are a kind of small onion.--ED.

{147} Mr. C. and my son arrived on the first of October with our luggage, in three waggons, from the mouth of the Bonpas river, or rather creek; for in a dry time it hardly runs, but in the winter it is a tolerably large stream. By their account they had rather a rough trip up the Wabash. The day they left Shawneetown they did not reach the Wabash, but entered it the next day; the water was so low they proceeded very slowly. The crew of the keel-boat were mostly Canadian Frenchmen from Vincennes; they soon consumed their own provisions, likewise those belonging to Mr. C. and my son; and as there were but few habitations on the river banks, they were forced to land and hunt for a living; they killed a few geese and some turkeys; these they were obliged to eat without bread, but once they procured a few potatoes at a cabin. In four or five days they reached Harmonie in Indiana, and procured a fresh supply of provisions and some whiskey, of which the crew made pretty free till it was {148} gone. Two days from Harmonie took them to the Bonpas, and in two more they arrived at the prairies, in health, and the luggage in good order. They described the Frenchmen as much the same as those of Europe, merry, good-natured, and thoughtless, enjoying the present moment, with but little thought for to-morrow. They lived on their provisions till they were gone, and then, in a manner perfectly good-natured, gave part of that they procured in hunting to their companions.

On the second of October, there was a game of cricket played at Wanborough by the young men of the settlement; this they called keeping Catherine Hill fair,[139] many of the players being from the neighbourhood of Godalming and Guildford, &c.

[139] A large pleasure-fair in the vicinity of Guildford, Surrey.--WOODS.

On the third of October, I set out to walk to Shawneetown; I lost my way in the course of the day, by taking the road to {149} Carmi,[140] this road being marked the same as the other; and went about four miles wrong before I discovered my mistake, but by inquiring I got directed right. Before sunset I reached the house of Mr. Slocum, thirty-four miles from Wanborough, where I slept. Very early in the morning I reached the Little Wabash, and forded it below the mill, the water nowhere higher than my knees. I arrived at Mr. Hobson's at two o'clock, twenty-four miles from Mr. Slocum's. On the following morning I settled with Mr. Collins, and also with the land-office, by paying up the remainder of the money due on the land. As Mr. Sloo, the register of the land-office, was from home, Mr. Collins was forced to sign the transfer of the land to me before a justice, (here called an esquire,) and also to get the county clerk's signature, and the county seal put to it, signifying the magistrate is a regular one for that county. But its being done before the register of the land-office saves all this trouble and expense. I returned {150} to Newhaven to sleep. The next morning I bought of my landlord a horse for seventy dollars; I applied to a store for a saddle and bridle, but neither was to be procured; at length the landlord found the bit of an old bridle, and we made a rein with some tow; so I mounted and set forward. Towards evening it began to rain very fast, and I stopped at the house of Mr. M., sixteen miles from Wanborough. He was one of the first settlers in this part of the country; he had lived nine or ten years in the Illinois; most part of the time where he now resides; but he had been driven off three times by the Indians. He was once shot through the thigh by a rifle-ball, as he was in a house one evening with seven or eight others. One of his companions was killed: the Indians fired through the holes between the logs; they soon put out their light, and the Indians did not enter the house, of which, he said, they were very glad, as they were not well armed to receive them; having only three rifles and as {151} many axes. The reason why so many of them were together was, they had sent off their wives and children, and they were met to shell some corn to take with them, intending to remove the next day. These back-woodsmen have a strong dislike to the Indians, and having been brought up with sentiments of antipathy towards them from their childhood, many of them declare they should not mind shooting an Indian more than a wild cat or racoon. Some of the back-woodsmen have been following the Indians from the frontiers of Virginia, North and South Carolina, and Georgia, through the States of Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, without being much more settled than the Indians themselves. Mr. M. said, the Indians had not disturbed him for some years, and he did not think he should go again to molest them.

[140] Carmi is situated on the Little Wabash, about twenty miles above its mouth, and is the seat of justice for White County.--ED.

About a week afterwards I made a purchase of 162 acres, of Mr. Samuel Anderson, for 480 dollars, 108_l._ sterling. This {152} land was also at Birks' prairie, one mile north from the other; it was all prairie, except 40 or 50 acres of wood-land. It lies well to cultivate, and by some is called as good a quarter section as any on the prairie; but I prefer my first purchase, and think it was much cheaper. On the 13th I settled at the land-office at Shawneetown, but not having the transfer signed by the county clerk of Edwards county, I could not send the certificate on to Washington for the President's signature. A certificate, with the land-office receipt, being sent to Washington, a patent is made out, and signed by the President of the United States, which is a complete title. I sent the transfer from Mr. Anderson to me to Palmyra,[141] the county town of Edwards county, and got the county clerk's signature; for this I paid 75 cents, 3_s._ 4½_d._ And on the 30th I again visited Shawneetown, and lodged my two certificates at the land-office, to be sent on to Washington for the President's signature. On my return {153} I had a most disagreeable journey, owing to the fires in the woods, that filled the air so full of smoke, that the sun could scarcely be seen through it. In the autumn, (here called the fall,) the hunters always set fire to the grass and weeds, for the benefit of hunting. These fires do much damage to the woods, and sometimes to the plantations; but clear the country of weeds, and destroy much of the harbour for wild beasts.

[141] This town, on the Wabash River twenty miles southwest of Vincennes, proved so unhealthful (see _post_, p. 328) that in 1821 the county seat was transferred to Albion.--ED.

Thus having purchased all the land I intend to buy at present, and having taken the cabin we lodged in on our arrival at Wanborough, I purpose to remain here at least for some time, and to take in a few boarders, as such a house is much wanted. But part of my family have removed to Birks' prairie.

I shall now take a short survey of the state of Illinois, and the country round the prairies; with some account of its animal and vegetable productions, agriculture, &c. &c.

The state of Illinois, where I have {154} pitched my tent, is one of the youngest of the states, as it has been a state only about two years. But some parts of it have been settled upwards of 100 years; near Vincennes, the town of Kaskaskia, and a few other places near the Mississippi river. These settlements were formed by the French, from Upper Canada.[142]

[142] For an account of the French settlements in Illinois, see A. Michaux's _Travels_, volume iii of our series, notes 132-135.--ED.

In 1783 it was settled this part of the country belonged to the United States; from that time till within a very few years, the Americans made but few settlements in Illinois, but of late many have been formed. And the inhabitants amounting to more than 60,000, it was raised into a state; and admitted into the union, as the 21st state. Three others have since been admitted, viz. Missouri, Alabama, and Main, so that the union now consists of 24 states, whereof 13 were the original ones, and two formed from them, Vermont and Main; and nine new ones, namely, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, {155} Missouri, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois; also a large tract of country equal in extent to all the 24 states, under the names of Michigan, North Western, Mississippi, and Missouri territories. These immense territories extend from the gulf of Mexico towards the Spanish territories; and north and westward to the rocky mountains and the Pacific Ocean; north eastward towards Canada and the Lakes.

The state of Illinois had its boundaries established by an act of congress. The Ohio river washes its southern border for 160 miles, from the mouth of the Wabash to the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, and separates it from the state of Kentucky. The Mississippi river bounds its western side to the rocky hills, in latitude 41 deg. 50 min. north, a distance, by the river, of 600 miles; and separates it from the state of Missouri. The Wabash washes its eastern border, from its mouth to near Fort Harrison,[143] where the division line leaves the river, and runs due north till {156} it reaches 41 deg. 50 min. north, and separates it from Indiana. An imaginary line, from east to west, in latitude 41 deg. 50 min. north, divides it from the north western territory. The length of the Illinois state, from north to south, is more than 300 miles; and its mean breadth upwards of 200 miles. Its southern point, the mouth of the Ohio river, is in latitude 36 deg. 57 min. north. It is calculated to contain 52,000 square miles, or 33,280,000 acres, which is nearly as large as England and Wales. Its present population is estimated at 70,000, but it is fast increasing. It is well situated as to navigation, the Wabash running on its eastern side 240 miles. The Ohio, on its southern, 160; and the Mississippi, on its western side, upwards of 600 miles. The noble river, the Illinois, runs through the state upwards of 300 miles, and the Kaskaskia 150; besides many other considerable streams, as the Mine, Sagamond, Demi Quain, Seseme Quain, Fox River, Plein, and Theakiki; these two last {157} form the Illinois river.[144] The rest of these rivers, with some others, fall into the Illinois, which river runs into the Mississippi 200 miles above the mouth of the Ohio, and 20 above the Missouri river. Au Vase, or muddy river, and Wood river, also fall into the Mississippi; as does Rocky river, 300 yards wide: this is the largest river on the western side of Illinois, except the Illinois river, which is more than 400 yards wide. The rivers emptying into the Ohio are but few and small, but the Saline is much noted for its salt-works; it enters the Ohio about 15 miles below Shawneetown. On the eastern side of the state are several rivers that run into the Big Wabash, and are of considerable note; such as Rejoicing, Duchat, Mascoutin, Embarres, Little Wabash, and some others.[145] The Big Wabash is 300 yards wide at its entrance into the Ohio, in latitude 37 deg. 20 min. north. There are some small lakes towards the north part of the state; and the northern boundary-line is supposed to touch the {158} south end of Lake Michigan; but this line has not yet been run, so that it is not certain.

[143] Setting out upon his Tippecanoe campaign (September, 1811), General Harrison advanced up the Wabash to the Wea village, now the site of Terre Haute, and there built Fort Harrison, marching thence against the Indians at the end of October. A year later, Captain Zachary Taylor, then in charge of the fort, successfully defended it against a fierce Indian attack. It was a strongly built stockade, about one hundred and fifty feet square, and was occupied as a military post until about 1822, when it was dismantled.--ED.

[144] Woods appears to have obtained his information from Cumings's _Western Pilot_, which, in turn, was taken from Patrick Kennedy's _Journal_, written in 1773 (see Flint's _Letters_, volume ix of our series, note 101). All these rivers are branches of the Illinois. Migne is Crooked Creek, which empties into it from the northwest; about fifteen miles farther up, Sangamon River discharges into it from the southeast; Demi Quain is Spoon River, a considerable stream one hundred and fifty miles in length, flowing southward into the Illinois, about thirty miles above the mouth of the Sangamon; Seseme Quain is probably Copperas Creek, a few miles farther up; Plein and Theakiki are the Des Plaines and Kankakee branches respectively.--ED.

[145] The Rejoicing (Rajounisance, of Arrowsmith's map, London, 1796) is apparently the Big Vermilion. The Duchatt is a small stream emptying into the Wabash a few miles below the Little Vermilion. Mascoutins is probably the present Macon Creek, which joins the Wabash midway between Vincennes and Terre Haute. The Embarras River rises near the source of the Kaskaskia, and flowing southeastward empties into the Wabash, about six miles south of Vincennes. The Editor is indebted to W. E. Henry, librarian of the Indiana State Library, for the substance of this note.--ED.

This state contains more prairie land (prairie means meadow-land) than any, if not as much as all the other states east of the Mississippi, but very little, if compared with the west side of that river. The land on the Missouri being mostly prairie for many hundred miles. The prairies of Illinois vary in size from a few acres, to one called the Grand Prairie, which is upwards of 200 miles in length, and from 20 to 30 in breadth. I have been informed, by a person who lives in the Long Prairie, an arm of the grand one, that he has been 25 miles along his own prairie, but had never seen the Grand Prairie; but understood he was near it. The arm comes within 10 miles of the English prairie, but on the other side of the Little Wabash, to the north-west of the English prairie. The English prairie was first called Boltinghouse prairie, from a young man of that name, who was killed by the Indians a few {159} years ago. It is situated towards the east side of the state, about 45 miles, almost due north, from the mouth of the Big Wabash; so that it lies about 38 deg. 26 min. north latitude; and about five miles east of the Little Wabash, and about 10 miles north-west, from the nearest point of the Big Wabash, which is at the mouth of the Bonpas. It may, I suppose, be five miles by four, but of a very irregular figure, and may contain 16 square miles, that is, about 10,000 acres. It is one of the largest prairies near which the English are settled, but there are some in many others, namely, Village, Long, Bonpas, Burnt, Bushy, French Creek, and some others, and Birks: this last is long and narrow, with several arms to it, and, I suppose, it may contain nearly 4000 acres. The irregular form of the prairies makes it difficult to ascertain accurately their size; but the prairies enumerated above, take one with another, are, I suppose, as large as Birks. Long Prairie, here mentioned, is not the arm of {160} the Grand Prairie noticed before. All these prairies are situated between the Bonpas to the east, and the Little Wabash to the west, and are separated from each other by woods; but in many places are nearly contiguous, and some of them, I believe, do join. They are destitute of timber, except a few strips on the water-courses, and a few groves in them. They produce a coarse grass, which although full of weeds, and the stalks of many large flowers, the cattle seem fond of it: it is made into hay, and eaten by them during the winter.

Mr. Birkbeck's settlement, called Wanborough, is situated at the north-west corner of the English Prairie, and contains 25 cabins, a tavern, a store or two, and several lodging houses; and several carpenters, bricklayers, brick-makers, smiths, wheelwrights, and sawyers; also a taylor and butcher.

A horse or ox mill is building, a malt-house planned out, and a new brick building for a tavern, and several new houses {161} began. As water is scarce, there are some more wells digging. Mr. Birkbeck, in July, found a tolerable good spring, by digging only six feet, about 300 yards from his house; but several of the wells lately dug have but little water in them.

Mr. Birkbeck's house is situated south of the village, a frame and log building of good size; it stands pleasantly, and commands a fine view of the prairie.

The building lots, at Wanborough, are some of five, and others of two and a half acres, laid out, like most of the American towns, in streets that cross each other at right angles, running north and south; the cross ones east and west. The lots are in the woods, but a considerable quantity of the wood is now cleared.

Albion, Mr. Flower's settlement, lies two miles east of Wanborough; it is also situated in the woods, a little north of the English Prairie. It has about 20 cabins, a place of worship, a market-house, two taverns, two stores, a surgeon, several carpenters, brick-makers, {162} bricklayers, wheelwrights, smiths, sawyers, and a shoemaker. Several wells have lately been dug in and near it, but water is still scarce.

Mr. Flower's house is to the south-east of Albion, a large log-building, well placed to enjoy the prospect of the prairie.

Many cabins are built round the prairies, but mostly just in the woods. The English that do not reside in the two villages, are scattered round the different prairies, mostly in single cabins.

About four miles to the east of Albion, at Bonpas-bridge, there is a saw-mill lately built, but it is not yet got to work, having had the mill-dam carried away by a flood in February. I believe it is a place very short of water; it is the property of Messrs. Le Serre and Grutt, late of Jersey or Guernsey, I do not know which: it has a tavern and store also.

The country round us is not well watered but very healthy. The creeks in the woods and prairies dry up in a dry season, {163} except a few deep holes that are shaded by trees; nor are there many of the wells that possess good springs. As the weather has been very dry ever since the first of April, water is now (August the sixth) extremely low in most of the wells and creeks; but there are some wells that still afford a good supply; and some of the large holes in the creeks have plenty of water in them. The soil found in digging wells, is, first, a vegetable mould, next loamy clay, then sand-stone, and lastly clay-slate, through which no one has yet penetrated, though some have dug 50 or 60 feet without finding water. Many are of an opinion, that, if the clay-slate was once dug through, water would be found in great abundance underneath; others, that pit-coal lies below the clay-slate. I am rather of the latter opinion, and my reason for so thinking is, that very thin veins of coal have frequently been found in the clay-slate; and on the bank of the Little Wabash, where the country is considerably lower, there are {164} large mines of coal. The water that is found in the wells, mostly rises between the sand-stone rocks, but often in too small quantities to be of much service for domestic uses. I have dug two; one at Wanborough, the other at Birks' Prairie; the first is 11 feet deep, it has but little water: the latter is quite without, though 23 feet down to the slate-rock. As most of the wells dug out in Birks' Prairie have produced water, I have begun another, at some distance from the cabin, that promises to afford a good supply: the two I have finished cost me about 15 pounds. I have stopped a creek at Wanborough that has supplied us with water for many uses. Our well, though very short of water, has been very convenient; we let meat down in the bucket, it prevents the flies getting at it, and keeps it much better than any safe in this hot climate.

The clay-slate lies from 5 to 30 feet below the surface of the earth. No lime-stone near us; a little free and soap {165} stone; but sand-stone is the prevailing stone for many miles round us. A well at Birks' Prairie is strongly tinctured with glauber salts, and another with sulphur. And there are several salt-licks: a salt-lick is a place where the earth is strongly impregnated with salt; horses, cattle, and pigs often frequent them, and the earth is worn away in a great degree by their licking it. It is supposed by some, that salt-water might be obtained by digging at these places, from which salt might be made, but no one has yet attempted it. These places were first used by the buffaloes, that some years ago used to frequent the prairies: a man, who resides at Birks' Prairie, informed me, that eight or nine years since, he often visited the Prairies, as he was then employed, with many others, during a war with the Indians, to be on the look-out for them, and then he often saw both elks and buffaloes, but they were not numerous. As the country became settled, they moved off to the large prairies, to the {166} north and west. Deer at that time were in vast quantities, and in these expeditions they lived mostly on venison; sometimes for a fortnight or three weeks at a time without any bread. And I have been told, by the first English settlers, that deer were much more numerous in 1818, than they now are 1820.