Chapter I: Part 1

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

Small caps in the text is denoted by UPPERCASE.

Superscript text is denoted by text preceded by a caret. Example: C^o.

Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.

SIX MONTHS

IN

AMERICA.

G.T. Vigne, delṭ T. S. Engleheart, sculpṭ

LOCKS ON THE RIDEAU CANAL, AT BYTOWN, ON THE OTTAWA RIVER.

_Published by Whittaker & C^o. April 10, 1832._]

SIX MONTHS

IN

AMERICA.

BY

GODFREY T. VIGNE, ESQ.

OF LINCOLN’S INN, BARRISTER AT LAW.

VOL. II.

LONDON:
WHITTAKER, TREACHER, & CO.
AVE MARIA LANE.

1832.

LONDON:
Manning and Co., Printers, 4, London House Yard,
St. Pauls.

SIX MONTHS IN AMERICA.

I now left Washington to proceed to Harper’s ferry. The English and American ideas of the picturesque are widely different. The Englishman, who sees enough of cultivation in his own country, travels to other lands in search of wilder scenery, and gazes with delight on the immense forests of America. The American would readily dispense with the romantic, and wonders that every body is not like himself, an admirer, by preference, of a rail-road, a canal, or a piece of newly cleared ground. Excellent as these are in their way, I really believe that the Americans, of the middle and lower class, regard them not merely with reference to their beneficial effects, but as the _ne plus ultra_ of the beautiful. When I inquired which was the prettiest road towards Harper’s ferry, “Go by such a road,” was the reply; “it runs by the side of the canal, sir.” However, it so happened that the canal-road lay also along the bank of the Potomac, and the scenery certainly was very pretty. At a distance of two miles from the road, and thirteen or fourteen from Washington, are the Great Falls of the Potomac. I did not turn out of my way to see them; I have seen a great many, and purposed visiting Niagara.

After all I had heard, I must say, that I was disappointed with Harper’s ferry. The Shenandoah and Potomac rivers unite at the foot of the Blue Mountains, through which they have forced, or rather worn a passage; but the rivers are of the same width. The mountains, composed of limestone, and schistose rocks, are of moderate and uniform elevation, and they appear to be perfectly acquiescent, while the stream glides in silent triumph over its smooth though rocky channel, without the least appearance of exasperation.

I visited the United States’ arsenal, containing 70,000 stand of arms. The chief armourer was an old Englishman, who served at the battles of Alexandria and Trafalgar. I observed that, with the exception of the ramrod and touchhole, which was of brass, every part of the musket, lock, barrel, and bayonet, was browned. They were not ranged in order, as in other arsenals, but were kept in boxes, so that there was no display whatever. From the arsenal I proceeded to Captain Hall’s manufactory of patent rifles. With one of these, after a little practice, a man may load and fire eight or nine times in a minute. The arrangement is very simple. The barrel appears to have been divided from the breech with a fine saw. The breech is raised by means of a hinge and a spring, which is struck by the hand, and when loaded is immediately shut down, so as to form part of the barrel, similar to that of a screw pistol. The great advantage gained by the invention of this rifle is, that with it a soldier can load, and defend himself with his bayonet at the same time.

There are also some large saw mills here well worth the attention of the traveller.

I proceeded up the well-cultivated valley of the Shenandoah, and arrived at Winchester, a neat and considerable town; thence to a good inn in the middle of the forest. In my way I crossed the sandy ridge and the Capon Mountains, though they hardly deserve such a name, being, to all appearance, scarcely higher than the Wrekin in Shropshire. I breakfasted at Romney, a pretty village on the south bank of the Potomac. A little farther on, the road is frowned upon by an overhanging rock of bastard lime-stone: its appearance is very singular. The strata are disposed in arches one within the other, so that, with the aid of fancy, its surface may be thought to resemble the solid frame-work of a stupendous bridge. The highest arch, to which the others are parallel, is nearly semi-circular with a radius of 270 feet.

When the mail, in which I was travelling, arrived at the north branch of the Potomac, we found it so swollen by the late rains that a passage seemed not only dangerous but impracticable. The coachman, however, a cool and determined fellow, crossed over on horseback; he then returned, placed one of the passengers on the near leader, and resolutely drove his four horses into the torrent, which was sixty or seventy yards in width, running like a mill-race, and so deep that it reached nearly up to the backs of the horses. I was with him on the box. The inside passengers pulled off their coats, and prepared to swim. The water forced itself into the coach; but we reached the opposite bank without disaster. On the preceding evening the coachman had only prevented the mail from being entirely carried away, by turning the horses’ heads down the stream, so that the coach and horses were swimming for nearly thirty yards. I think the American coachmen, in general, are good drivers: the horses are well adapted to their work, and in fine condition: in summer they are allowed any quantity of oats they can eat, and in winter a little Indian corn is mixed with them. It is too heating to be much used in the stable during the summer months; one feed of Indian corn is supposed to contain as much nourishment as two of oats. The coaches stop every five or six miles, and the horses drink at least half a pail of water; they could not work without it on a hot day. The roads in the country would puzzle the most experienced English coachman; they are often execrably bad,—and require making, not mending,—with the roots of trees sticking up in the middle of the road. The expense of finishing good roads through the forest would be enormous, far too great to be borne at present; but in the neighbourhood of the large towns I have sometimes seen them in a state of inexcusable neglect.

Cumberland is delightfully situated in the valley of the Potomac, surrounded by lofty hills, out-topped by the distant Alleghany, which had appeared in sight towards the close of the day.

Virginia is famous for its breed of horses. Till I passed through that state I had not seen a horse with at all the shape and figure of an English hunter; but in Virginia I have seen horses on the road, and brood mares in the pastures, displaying a great deal of blood and symmetry. In all parts of the Union which I visited, a well-bred horse is termed a “blooded horse:” but the Americans are quite at liberty to use what terms they please. Besides the paces usually known in England, the horse in the United States is valuable according to his performances as a square or natural trotter, a pacer, or a racker. A racker is a beast that can trot before, and canter behind, at the same time. The recommendations of a pacer are, that he moves his fore and hind legs on the same side at the same time, like a cameleopard. When hiring a hack, you are questioned as to which you would prefer. As there is no fox-hunting, a fast trotter is considered the most valuable animal next to the racer. A horse that can trot a mile in two minutes and a half, is not thought very extraordinary.

At Cumberland I joined the high road or “turnpike,” between Baltimore and Pittsburgh, and soon afterwards I began the ascent of the Alleghany for the second time. The road passes over Keyser’s ridge, one of the highest parts of the mountain, rising to a height of 2800 feet above the level of the western rivers. The mountain presented the same distant and interminable forest view that I beheld when I passed over it in Pennsylvania; but in that state, there were more patches of cultivated land to be seen here and there in the vicinity of the high road. Silence and tranquillity to a degree I never before witnessed, are, I think, the prevailing characteristics of the American forests, where the Indian is no longer an inhabitant. They are dark, but never gloomy, excepting where they are composed of pine trees: they are solitary, and are silent as the grave, without inspiring horror. They are curious and interesting to the European traveller. In Europe the eye is frequently attracted by the ancient relics of feudal grandeur, or the formidable structures of modern, and more civilized warfare. But the wild scenery of America is dependent for its interest on nature, and nature only; the mountain pass is without banditti, the forest is without fastness, and the glens and glades are quiet and legendless. I was never tired of the forest scenery, although I passed through it day after day. The endless diversity of foliage always prevents it from being monotonous. Sycamores and tulip trees of most gigantic dimensions, are to be seen on the banks of the smaller rivers, or creeks, as they are termed in the United States. With the more stately trees of the forest are mingled the sassafras, the gum-tree, the hickory, and many others that are new to the European eye. But the most beautiful sight is afforded by the wild vine that entwines itself round the acacia, and covers every branch of it with a green tile-work, extended in festoons to the nearest trees; like those which are to be seen in the vineyards of Italy.

Soon after passing the Alleghany, I was shown the remains of an old entrenchment in a meadow on the left of the road: it was formed by Washington, then a Colonel in the British service, when pursued by the Indians after the defeat of General Braddock. A little further on, on the right hand, on the bank of a small stream, I saw the spot where the General was buried on the 9th of July, 1755; having neglected the precautions recommended by Colonel Washington, who offered to scour the forest alongside his line of march with the provincial troops; he was attacked by the Indians in a defile on the banks of the Monongahela, when within about ten miles of Fort du Quesne, at Pittsburgh, then occupied by the French, and which he was marching to besiege: his bravery was of little use; all the officers about his person were killed, he had five horses shot under him, and at last he himself received a mortal wound. He was conveyed away by his retreating soldiers; but soon afterwards died, and was buried in the middle of the road, and the wagons and horses were allowed to pass over his grave, in order to conceal the spot from the pursuing Indians. With his dying breath he acknowledged to Colonel Washington the error he had committed in not following his advice. He presented him with his horse, and gave his parting injunction to an old and faithful attendant to enter into the service of Colonel Washington, and remain with him till the day of his death. Fort Du Quesne was afterwards taken by General Forbes, and the name was changed to Fort Pitt, in compliment to the British minister. The magazine and part of the wall, are all that remain of it at present, and are to be seen near the point of confluence of the rivers at Pittsburgh.

At Washington town, I attended a black Methodist meeting; they are to be found in every considerable town in the Union, but I had never seen one before. The preacher was a half-cast, or quarteroon, as the negroes call them, and he and his congregation were all ranters; he talked the most incoherent nonsense, and worked himself up to such a pitch of frenzy, that his appearance was almost that of a maniac. At intervals I was nearly stunned by the noise he made; and I could not help thinking of the speech of the frogs in the fable, who said to the boy as he pelted them, “It may be very good fun for _you_, but _we_ really find it exceedingly disagreeable.”

As I approached Pittsburgh the forest became less extensive, and the country exhibited a more general appearance of cultivation, although it may be broadly asserted that the Americans are at least fifty years behind us in agriculture; yet there are many gentlemen’s estates on which more than ordinary care and labour have been bestowed, and which, consequently, are far in advance of others. I observed some good farming adjacent to the road. Some part of the country I am speaking of, might have been mistaken for the more wooded parts of England, had it not been for the worm or zigzag fence which is in universal use throughout the United States, and offers but a poor apology for the English hedge row, although they are sometimes composed of cedar logs.

Pittsburgh is built on the confluence of the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers, both of them being about a quarter of a mile in width, whose united streams form the Ohio. They are both passed by a fine wooden bridge.

The city contains 12,000 inhabitants; but if the suburbs are included in the calculation, its population will amount to nearly 23,000. It may be called the western capital of Pennsylvania. It manufactures annually about 18,000 tons of iron, and the same quantity of steel. It has also an extensive manufactory of cotton and glass. Bituminous coal is found in the greatest plenty in the neighbourhood, and in consequence of the smoke and black dust from the manufactories, the shopkeepers complain that it is impossible to keep any thing clean. I entered Pittsburgh on the 4th of July, on which day, as every one knows, the Declaration of Independence was signed at Philadelphia. It is, of course, always and universally a day of rejoicing in the United States. The militia are called out, a public dinner is always given in every town and village in the Union, and an appropriate oration is delivered by the appointed orator of the day. I regretted I did not arrive in time to be present at the dinner, which had taken place under the shade of some trees on the opposite side of the Alleghany, but I heard a great number of sentiments delivered, without being drank. Any bystander wrote an idea upon a slip of paper and handed it to the orator, who read it aloud to the company. They were all more or less patriotic, but usually couched in the most ridiculous bombastic language. The cause of reform in England, was a frequent theme of eulogy. William the reformer was applauded as being more glorious than William the Conqueror. Henry Brougham was coupled with Henry Clay, and a drunken Irishman requested “parmission to give a woluntary toast,” and lauded his majesty to the skies, in terms which I cannot pretend to recollect.

On this day died, at New York, James Monroe, the fifth president of the United States, having twice held that office from 1817 to 1825. His eulogy was spoken by Mr. Adams, who appears to be the orator-general upon such occasions, and who, in the true spirit of republicanism, thinks it no degradation to take his seat as a member of congress after having once filled the president’s chair. Mr. Monroe was five years of age at the date of the Stamp Act. At an early age he joined the standard of Washington, when others were deserting it. He was present at the celebrated passage of the Delaware at Trenton, was wounded in the subsequent engagement, and was afterwards present in the actions of Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth. He took his seat in the federal congress in June 1783, at the age of twenty-four. He was at first opposed to the adoption of the articles of the constitution, believing them to be imperfect, and of little remedial efficacy; although he was decidedly in favour of some important change in the existing government under the articles of confederation. Mr. Monroe was appointed by President Washington, the minister plenipotentiary to the court of France, and was received with splendid formality by the national convention; but being unsuccessful in his negociations, he was recalled, and Mr. Pinkney appointed in his place. He was afterwards appointed governor of Virginia. When Napoleon had 20,000 veterans assembled at Helvoet-sluys, ready for embarkation to Louisiana. Mr. Monroe was sent over by President Jefferson on a special commission. On his arrival, the war between Great Britain and France was rekindling, and the danger to Louisiana was averted. In conjunction with Mr. Pinkney, the then United States’ minister at Madrid, he concluded the treaty by which Louisiana was ceded to the United States, in the year 1803. This state was in the possession of the Spaniards from 1762 till 1800, when it was again ceded to the French, the original settlers. The United States paid 15,000,000 of dollars for it; Mr. Monroe afterwards went to England as minister plenipotentiary, he was present in Paris at the coronation of Napoleon. He returned to the United States in 1807, and became secretary of state in 1811, and afterwards secretary at war. In 1817 he was elected president, and was re-elected in 1821 without opposition. His opinion on the subject of internal improvements, was, that a power of establishing a general system of internal improvement had not been delegated to congress, and he returned a bill to the house, in which it originated, with a justification of his exercise of prerogative, in an able and elaborate exposition of the reasons for the refusal of his assent. It is a very singular fact, that Mr. Monroe is the third out of four deceased presidents, who have died on the 4th July. The circumstances attending the deaths of Presidents Jefferson and John Adams were very extraordinary. A committee of five was originally appointed to draw up the articles of the constitution. Jefferson and Adams were selected as a sub-committee, and were in fact the real framers of the constitution. These two gentlemen died on the 4th of July, in the same year, and the news of their decease arrived at exactly the same time on the same day, at Philadelphia, where the Declaration of Independence was signed.

From Pittsburgh I rode to Braddock’s field. It was pointed out to me about three hundred yards from the bank of the Monongahela. The ground has been considerably cleared since the action took place; but it seems to have been admirably adapted to the Indian mode of warfare, on account of the undulating surface of the field, that enabled the Indians, with the aid of the forest with which it was then covered, to lie in ambush, and fire without being perceived. When, as a child, I used to read the account of this sanguinary conflict, as narrated by the highlander in the history of “Sandford and Merton,” little did I dream that I should ever stand upon the field of battle.

From Pittsburg, I proceeded for fifteen miles down the western bank of the Ohio to Economy, a German settlement, under the superintendence of Mr. Rapp, conducted on a system somewhat resembling that of Mr. Owen of Lanark. The members call themselves the “Brothers;” and have a community of property. Any person, of any country, however poor, may become a member, by conforming to the rules, and submitting to learn one of the trades or other occupations which are taught in the society. If he be weary of its regulations, he is at liberty to leave it, and takes with him, from the public fund, all that he brought into it: his earnings, during his stay, becoming general property. It is open on the same terms, even to the entirely destitute. The town is regularly built, and extremely neat: there are 4000 acres of land belonging to the establishment, cultivated by the members, and at the expense of the society; they have a good museum, an admirable band, and public concerts twice in the week. The “Brothers” are chiefly Lutherans, from Wirtenberg, where I understood they originally attempted to form a society of the same kind, but it became obnoxious to the government, and was suppressed. Mr. Rapp himself is a Lutheran clergyman, and preaches the doctrine of brotherly love. His first settlement was on the Wabash river, several hundred miles to the south; but he sold the place to Mr. Owen, whose philanthropic exertions were, as usual, unattended with success. Mr. Rapp occasionally goes to Philadelphia, in search of recruits amongst the latest importations from Germany; and it will be readily believed, that he enlists none but his own countrymen to undergo this voluntary confinement, and second schooling. It is scarcely necessary to mention, that marriage and a continuance in the society, are incompatible. It is said, that Mr. Rapp’s system has been sufficiently successful to cheat him into the idea, that his calling, if not of the prophetic, is, at least, of the patriarchal order.

At Economy, I joined the passing steam-boat for Maysville. For about a hundred and fifty miles of its course, the average width of the Ohio is not greater than that of the Thames at Vauxhall bridge. It is often very low; and not navigable for steam-boats. The water is then extremely clear; but when I saw it, the river had been swelled by the late rains, and was very muddy. The surface of its unruffled and rapid stream was nearly covered by trunks of trees, which had been washed down by the torrents from the forests, and rendered it often necessary to stop the engine, in order to prevent accidents to the paddles. In our passage down the river we passed, amongst others, Blennerhasset’s Island, so called from its having been the residence of a person of that name, who had involved himself in the supposed conspiracy of Colonel Barr, who, in 1806, fitted out an armed expedition on the Ohio, with which he intended either to make a hostile incursion into the Spanish territories, or, according to the more general belief, to make himself master of New Orleans, with a view to the formation of an independent power. Blennerhasset had beautified the island at a great expense, but his property was confiscated by order of government.

We passed Wheeling, a town containing about 6000 inhabitants, and manufactories of the same kind as those at Pittsburg. At this place, it is said, that the Baltimore and Ohio rail-road is to come in contact with the river.

Maysville is a much prettier town, with a more picturesque situation; and looks well, in spite of its red houses. I ascended a hill whence I had a fine view of the Ohio, which is here above a quarter of a mile in width. It is observable of its banks, that they never rise to any height, directly from the water, on both sides of the river at the same time. If they are abrupt on the one side, the opposite shore is sure to display a fine strip of cultivated land intervening between the hills and the river, in the back ground. Near Portsmouth, on the Ohio, is a slip of ground containing 4000 acres, the whole of it planted with Indian corn, but it is hidden from the view of the steam-boat passengers by the trees on the margin of the river.

About twenty-four miles from Maysville, on the road to Lexington, is a very fine sulphureous spring, called “the Blue Lick.” There are several houses in the neighbourhood for the accommodation of visiters, who resort thither for the benefit of the water.

Lexington is the neatest country town I had yet seen in the United States; the streets are regular and spacious, and delightfully shaded by acacia trees, which are planted before every house: it contains about 6000 inhabitants. Although comfortable and cheerful in its appearance, Lexington is the only place of note in the United States, whose prosperity, for several years, has been on the decline. It could boast of excellent society; but being an inland town, and supported only by the surrounding country, it is now paying the penalty for having enlarged itself beyond its means of supply. One additional cause of its decline is the great increase of steam navigation on the Ohio and Mississippi, which affords so much greater facility to travellers going to New Orleans than the land route, which runs through Lexington. A college which had been established here did not answer the expectations of its founders, and a few years since was unfortunately burnt.

Till lately the greatest confusion prevailed through the whole of Kentucky, in consequence of the complicated state of titles to landed property, which has considerably retarded the advance of its prosperity. Lands were sold by the government of Virginia before the separation of Kentucky from that state, without having been previously surveyed and marked out. The consequence was, that four or five different persons entered with their warrants of possession, as purchasers of the same lots, where, in many cases, their interest had already been sold and re-sold. The endless litigation occasioned by this state of affairs produced a law, limiting the time of action to seven years, after which the occupier was to remain in undisputed possession of the property.

The system of country banks has been still more ruinous to Lexington, and the state of Kentucky generally. They were first established towards the end of the year 1817. The persons principally connected with them were members of the legislature; about forty of them were opened with, of course, a very limited capital, but an unlimited supply of paper. The establishment of the branch bank of the United States obliged them to pay in specie, and the consequence was the greatest embarrassment in their affairs. The directors enacted what laws they pleased, to save themselves from the impending ruin: they abolished imprisonment for debt, and passed what were called stay laws,—general and particular enactments, which extended the time of payment; a desperate mode of proceeding, and which only served to plunge them deeper in the mire. Those who were of opinion that payment of debts, contracted at a time when paper was the only currency, could not now be demanded in specie, contrived to get a law passed establishing a new court, filled by judges whose opinions coincided with their own, and who were removable at pleasure. The decisions of this court were at variance with those of the old one, and a new and old court party immediately arose. The judges of the new court, however, immediately resigned. Public and private credit is still at a low ebb, and the ultimate ruin of many of the leading families in the state, who are connected with the banks, appears, I was informed, almost unavoidable.

A rail-road to Louisville is shortly to be commenced, which will, no doubt, much benefit the town and surrounding country. At the distance of a mile stands the English-looking residence of Henry Clay, Esq., whose public services are too well known to need any remark here.

I visited several caves in this neighbourhood; that called Russell’s cave, distant about six miles, is most worthy of attention. It is three quarters of a mile in length, formed in a rock, composed of innumerable strata of marine shells, embedded in lime-stone. The action of water, occasioning an immense pressure, is evident at first sight. A delicious spring issues from the cave, which unfortunately was so swollen as to prevent my entrance. Three miles hence, I observed two Indian forts. The larger is surrounded by a trench, which is now about seven feet deep and three quarters of an inch in length. In the swollen one the ditch is considerably deeper and more distinct, encircling it on every side, excepting where an entrance, wide enough to admit a carriage, has been left untouched by the spade.

At Lexington, I was much amused at the master-aping manners of the slaves. They give themselves great airs. On Sundays they either hire hacks, or more commonly ride their masters’ horses. I saw dozens of them, attended by their females, playing the agreeable on horseback, and “doing a bit of park” “à la militaire.” The slaves of the southern states are a very happy race. In some places their numbers constitute a “plaie politique,” equally troublesome, and far more formidable, than the system of poor laws in England. In many places they far outnumber the whites, who are obliged to use great precautions, and restrict their slaves in many particulars. About twenty years ago a conspiracy was formed by the negroes at Lexington: a house was to be set on fire, and whilst every one repaired to the spot, they were to take possession of a large stand of arms kept at the inn, and the defenceless crowd were to be fired upon. The bank was to be plundered, and the town burnt. The conspiracy was discovered by a negress, who, on the preceding evening, told her master that the leaders were below, in deliberation, and that if he would listen, he would be convinced of the truth of what she said. He did so, and they were taken into custody.

There are still such animals in existence as slave merchants, but they are not numerous. Slaves are purchased in different parts of the country, and sent down the Mississippi to the sugar plantations at New Orleans. An able-bodied young negro is worth three hundred dollars, and the merchant is encouraged in his brutal traffic by a sure market, and a profit of at least thirty-five, and frequently of forty or forty-five per cent., after deducting the necessary expenses for food and clothing, and making allowances for losses by death and accident. Three or four years back, one of these men and his assistants were murdered on the Mississippi by a cargo of slaves, who spared no torture that could be applied by means of fire and steel.

In Virginia, if a black is freed by his master he is presented as a nuisance by the grand jury, and generally is not allowed to remain in the state. In Kentucky, a freed man cannot leave his native county without quitting the state entirely; and a master who emancipates his slave, is obliged to give security to the county for his maintenance. Even a white man, who would be called a vagrant in England, is there liable, not only to be taken up but to be sold, for two or three months, to the highest bidder, who has the power of treating him as a slave, if he refuse to work. When any ship arrives at Charleston in South Carolina, the police immediately go on board, and have the power of arresting the black cook, or any free negro they find there, who is placed in confinement till the ship is ready to put to sea again. So jealous are they of the presence of a free negro, that a master is not permitted to emancipate his slave without sending him out of the state; and if a slave has left South Carolina, in the capacity of valet with his master, and has once obtained his liberty, by setting foot in a free state, he is never allowed to return. At Washington, the sound of the slave auctioneer’s hammer may be heard within a short distance of the capitol. In Virginia, the country of Hampden-Sydney College, the slave population amounted, in 1830, to 469,724, being larger than that of any other state, and bearing a proportion to the whites of rather less than four to six. In Georgia there is a county, most appropriately called Liberty County, where the slave population is to the whites as five to one.

The slave children are not instructed to read or write at the expense of their masters; if they enjoy these advantages, they have been taught by persons of their own colour. If they could write, they would forge their pass-papers, and run away; and those who can, are always ready to do this for those who cannot. The slave population could not be educated, and remain long in a state of bondage. Its march of intellect would be stronger and more terrible than the fire in the vast American forests which it would traverse: to check it is impossible, and flight is unavailing; so that the only means of avoiding destruction is to add vigour, and give direction to the flame.

Chè più facil sarìa svolger il corso
Presso Cariddi alla volubil onda,
O tardar Borea allor che scote il dorso
Dell’ Appennino, e i legni in mare affonda.

The apparent advantage of procuring labour for nothing is often far outweighed by the consequences arising from the idle and careless manners of the slaves, and the expense incurred in their maintenance. Two white men will easily perform the work of three negroes, when the weather is not intolerably hot. They do as little as they can for their masters; but on a holiday they will work for each other like real slaves. Even an unaccustomed eye would recognize a slave district by the slovenly appearance of the farms, and of every thing connected with them. The residence of the slaves is usually at some little distance from the dwelling-house of their master. The quarter, as it is termed, consists of a number of small huts, with a larger house for the overseer, and will sometimes contain three hundred or four hundred negroes, with their families, and all more or less distantly related to each other. An arable farm will scarcely pay, unless its superintendent be a man of skill, firmness, and perseverance. So much depends upon him, that if he be a person of that character, a good farm, one year with another, will return a profit of eight or ten per cent.; but it is usually not so large, and is never equal to the emolument of an attentive agriculturist in the northern states, where slaves are unknown.

By the last census, the total population of the United States was 12,856,165: of these 2,010,436 were slaves, existing only in what are termed the southern states, of which Maryland is the most northerly. It is said, that supposing an inclination to secede from the Union should be prevalent in the southern states, the danger they would incur from their inability to defend themselves against their black population, would be a sufficient reason for their thinking twice on the subject. There can be no doubt, that the slaves, with an offer of liberty, would prove a most formidable weapon in the hands of an enemy. This, however, is not very likely to take place, at least not as yet. Before I quitted America a partial insurrection had taken place in Virginia, in which sixty or seventy persons were brutally massacred by the negroes; and it is most probable that the state legislature will consider of some measures by which the superabundant slave population may be effectually disposed of. Their attention will probably be directed to the colony of Liberia, on the windward coast in Africa, hitherto supported exclusively by the funds and management of the colonization society, which provides vessels for the transportation of slaves manumitted on condition of their departure for that place. Within the last few years two or three hundred negroes have been annually sent out of the country in this manner. The capital of the colony, which is defended by a garrison, is called Monrovia, because it was founded during the presidency of Mr. Monroe. The blacks support themselves by traffic with the natives, and by cultivating the soil.

* * * * *

I really think I had not seen more than one or two ponds in the United States, before I entered the state of Kentucky; there, they are common enough, and plenty of bull-frogs may usually be heard grunting in the mud on their margins. With the aid of a little fancy, there is certainly some truth in the assertion, that the noise they make resembles the words “blood and ’ounds,” repeated in a very deep and coarse human voice.

I confess that I had formed an erroneous idea of Kentucky, at least, of that part of it through which I passed. Contrary to my expectations, I found the land as much cleared as in any state I had previously seen. The soil is very rich in many parts; and will produce five or six crops of Indian corn or wheat, in successive years, without the assistance of manure. It is a positive fact, that the grazing farmers will not unfrequently pull down and remove the sheds in the fields, sooner than incur the trouble and expense of clearing away the quantity of manure that has accumulated in them. Labour is dear, and land is cheap; so that a farmer who can clear good fresh land whenever he pleases, has no inducement to be at the expense which is necessarily laid out on a farm in England, before it is rendered sufficiently productive. The dressing of land, by laying on manure or otherwise improving it, would, in Kentucky, be considered generally, a waste of labour. Hemp is the staple article of produce in this state.

The finest specimens of American forest scenery are to be found in Kentucky: the oaks and sycamores, in particular, grow to an immense size, and throw a delicious shade on the soil beneath; which is often free from all kinds of underwood, and covered with a carpet of greensward,—affording the finest pasture ground imaginable to great numbers of cattle, which are constantly grazing there. I was forcibly reminded of the beautiful description in the opening scene of “Ivanhoe.”

I had resolved to visit the great Mammoth cave in Kentucky, distant about 120 miles from Lexington, on the right of the Nashville road. I accordingly proceeded in that direction, and soon arrived on the banks of the Kentucky river. I considered this ferry as a most beautiful specimen of Indian scenery. The river is here seventy or eighty yards across, and flows with a dark and quiet stream, between two very high cliffs, whose bold, bare, limestone fronts are seen to great advantage, as they rise above the mass of forest, that intervenes between their base and the water. It bore some resemblance to Swinsund ferry, on the frontier of Sweden and Norway, although certainly inferior.

Shaker’s town is occupied as the name implies, by persons of that sect. One of their number, which amounts to a few hundreds, is an architect, and this accounts for the superior build of their houses. From Glasgow, a cross road conducted me to Bell’s tavern, a solitary house standing at the meeting of the Lexington and Louisville roads, to Nashville, in the midst of what are called “the barrens.” These barrens, it is supposed by many, were originally Prairies, or “Pararas,” as they are called by the lower class of Americans, but are now principally covered by dwarf oaks. Wild turkeys, deer, pheasants, and the bird called the barren hen, which is also the prairie hen, and the grouse of the northern and middle states, are found in the barrens; cougars, wolves, foxes, &c. are also to be met with there. At Bell’s tavern, which, by the way, is a very comfortable little country inn, I procured horses and a guide, and set out for the Mammoth cave. After an agreeable and shady ride of seven miles, I arrived at a small lonely log house tavern, built about a hundred yards from the mouth of the great cave. There are several smaller caves in the neighbourhood; but the only one of these I visited was the white cave; of no extent, but curious, on account of the number, and diversified shape of its stalactitic formations, formed by the depositions of water, dropping through the limestone rock.

Immediately in front of the inn, begins a narrow path winding down a dark ravine, which conducts to the cave. Its entrance is overshadowed by the dark foliage of the surrounding trees, and its appearance altogether is exceedingly gloomy, and calculated to inspire a feeling of horror. The presence of two beautiful humming birds very much heightened by contrast the effects of the scene. They were darting in all directions, as quickly as the eye could follow; sometimes passing with the greatest rapidity across the mouth of the cave, or remaining for an instant, motionless in the air, as they sipped, on the wing, of the water that was incessantly dripping from the projecting rock. I could not but think of the incantation scene in “Der Freychütze.”

The very sudden encounter of cold air at the mouth of the cave, is more agreeable than safe during the hot weather. Not that the air itself is damp or unwholesome; on the contrary, it is particularly dry and healthy. I have been told of its acting as a febrifuge, and can easily believe it. A great quantity of salt-petre was made there during the late war. The works still remain, but have not been used for many years. The salt was procured by pouring water over a wooden trough, filled with the earth from the cave, which, when saturated, was allowed to run off; was then boiled, and the salt separated by vaporization. By this process, two pounds of salt-petre were procured from one bushel of earth. The air is so highly impregnated with the saline particles, that meat, butter, cheese, and many other substances, after remaining a short time in the cave, become of a bright red colour, and are unfit for use. I was attended by an old man, and two boys, sons of the landlord, each of us carrying a small lamp, with an additional supply of grease to trim them. The rock is very low near the entrance, but soon expands to a magnificent size. The average width and height may be about seventy feet, but in some places it is more lofty, and far wider. I first visited an antechamber, and walked a mile before I reached the end, where there is a small but curious waterfall, that has worked its way into the side of the rock in a serpentine direction. Sulphur, red and yellow ochre, may be picked up there; and gum borax, sulphate of magnesia, and sulphate of soda, are found adhering to the walls in considerable quantities, but not in every part. We returned from the antechamber and proceeded up the principal part of the cave. The roof and sides were but little broken, and in general their evenness and regularity of angle were surprising. The walking was very good at first; but our passage was soon impeded and rendered fatiguing, by the enormous number of loose blocks of limestone, that were heaped up on every side. At intervals we came to a small pyramid composed of broken fragments, raised by the aborigines, who have left traces of their existence throughout the whole of North America. I pulled down one of them, and found only the remains of a fire; similar marks are to be seen on the bare rock in many parts of the cave. Pieces of cane with which Kentucky originally abounded, within the memory of many now living, were strewed around, having evidently afforded the fuel with which these fires were fed. In some places the face of the rock had been slightly worked, but for what purpose will for ever remain undetermined. The floor of the cave is generally parallel with the surface of the ground above, as no great rise or fall is perceivable throughout its entire direction. At about the distance of a mile and a half from its mouth, the cave takes a majestic bend to the left, and two miles further we arrived at what is called “the cross roads.” From this large and gloomy expanse, four distinct caverns branch out in different directions. The glare of our lamps was just sufficiently powerful to display the opening on the left. It looked as black and dismal as darkness could make it, and was formed by vast fragments of rock, thrown together with a confusion equalling that at the pass in the Pyrenees, usually known by the name of Chaos. We clambered over them, and after half an hour’s walking, we arrived at what seemed to be the termination of the cavern; but, in the corner on the left, is a kind of natural chimney, through which we climbed to another chamber. It did not much differ from the other parts of the cave, excepting that it is much wider in proportion to its length, and the roof blacker. A solitary bat was clinging to it, and was the only living animal I saw in the cave. No others inhabit this mansion of utter darkness. The small pyramids of stone, and the marks of fire, were very numerous. We explored the other branches of the cave in succession. At intervals the huge blocks of limestone rose nearly to the roof, and seemed to set progress at defiance; but, after mastering the summit, we were enabled to continue, till we reached another and similar difficulty. The cave never appeared to such effect as when seen from the top of one of these eminences; because its downward dimensions were not visible by the light of the lamps, and a bottomless pit was an easy conjecture. The most terrific place is what is called the cataracts; here, the floor sinks away to a greater depth, and a large chasm is formed on one side by gigantic mis-shapen rocks, fearfully disposed over the head of the explorer, as he gladly descends to refresh himself with a draught of the pure, delicious water, that falls from the roof. I thought I had never before seen anything so unearthly, excepting perhaps, the crater of Vesuvius. We subsequently entered a smaller part of the cave, which is gradually contracted into so narrow a passage, that we were obliged to crawl on all fours. It led us, in a few minutes, to the brink of a large black pit, down which I tossed some fragments of stone, and we heard them descending from rock to rock, for the depth, I should judge, of 150 feet. In this manner I visited three, and I have reason to believe, all the four extremities, of the principal branches of the cave. I had been told that it was as much as twelve miles to the end of the cavern which I entered through the chimney, and that the cave itself had been explored for more than fourteen. The guides make it out to be more than double its real length. I was more than six hours under ground, and moving almost incessantly, during which time, as nearly as I could calculate, I walked but nine or ten miles. The extreme ends of the principal branches, I should say, were between four and five. There are several smaller chambers, which I did not visit, but I heard that they contained nothing new, or different from the others; and feeling greatly fatigued, was glad to emerge into the open air. I found it requisite to pause at the entrance: there is no intermediate temperature between the cool, but not chilly air of the cave, and the sultry atmosphere of noon. The sensation was extraordinary; with both my arms extended, one hand would be warm, at the same time that I would gladly withdraw the other from the contact of the colder air of the cave. Those who do not take the precaution of waiting a few minutes, are almost invariably attacked with giddiness, or a fainting fit.

I had erred in believing that the huge bones of the mammoth and other quadrupeds at present unknown, had been found in this cave; and in imagination I had listened to the dying cries of agony sent forth by those stupendous animals as they struggled in the thundering billow of the deluge that had risen, and rolled into their hiding place, and reduced them to a state of frenzy and desperation. But it has received its name of the “mammoth cave” only on account of its superior size and extent: the term being frequently applied where size or importance is intended to be designated. For instance, the branch bank of the United States at Cincinnati, is called the Mammoth bank. None but human bones have been found in this cave. These were often dug up by the saltpetre manufacturers, and were usually found lying side by side, but separated and covered over by a rough slab of limestone. I was informed that upwards of a hundred skeletons had been there unearthed; and it is probable that more are still remaining in different parts of the cave. In general they are not larger than those of the ordinary race of men. They are doubtless the remains of some of that ancient nation, whose very name is unknown; whose customs and occupation are unrecorded; whose chiefs and heroes remain unchronicled, and whose existence is to be traced only in the monuments of death or warfare.

The manner in which this and the other caves in Kentucky have been formed may, perhaps, be more than conjectured. They are all composed of secondary limestone, resting on a substratum of sand,—a singular formation, but one that is common in this part of America. The sand may have been gradually dislodged by the action of water; a theory which the sloping nature of the ground between the cave and the Green river, only a few hundred yards distant, does not contradict. A gentleman informed me that he had lately witnessed a similar process. He had for a long time watched the increase of a small sand bank, that had been forming in a stream on his own property in the lower part of Kentucky,—and upon further examination he found, as he expected, that a cave had been gradually hollowed out by the action of the water behind it. The whole of this country and the region watered by the Mississippi, is diluvial, and in many places marine shells and the fossil remains of marine animals have been found in great abundance.

In the neighbourhood of the cave, there are a great many wild turkeys, and a tolerable sprinkling of deer, but both were difficult of approach at that season of the year. I was exceedingly anxious for a shot at a wild turkey, but committed a great error in loading with ball only; and although I contrived to get three or four fair shots on the ground, and on the wing, yet I confess through eagerness to have missed them. Once I contrived to near a brood, but had the mortification, although close to them, to hear them rising one by one on the other side of a thicket; and when I did pull at the last bird, my gun, which was loaded with shot, missed fire through the badness of the copper cap. After vainly toiling through the forest in search of a deer, for one whole August day, I was poacher enough to drop down the Green river in a canoe, in the vicinity of the cave, at two in the morning, in order to get a shot at one whilst feeding upon the moss at the bottom of the river. A light was placed at the head of the boat with a board behind it. I sat in the middle of the canoe, which was paddled forward by a man at the stern; both of us being as silent as possible. The darker the night, the better; the deer stand gazing at the light, till the canoe almost touches them; they appear as white as a sheep, and the aim of a Kentucky rifle is usually too true, at any reasonable distance, to render the death of one of them an uncertainty. But I was again unfortunate. I had been disappointed in the attendance of an experienced hunter, whom I had engaged to go with me, and my companion, who was a novice, allowed three deer that were standing close to us, but not distinguishable by me among the tall sedge, to run off untouched by the random shot I sent after them. The back-woodsmen are excellent marksmen, their rifles are long and heavy, carrying a very small ball, often not bigger than a large pea. With these a good shot will alternately hit and miss the head of a squirrel at sixty yards distance.