One morning, near the last of December, the captain announced a fair wind. He weighed anchor, hoisted sail, and with a stiff breeze pushed out to sea. The vessel only drew five feet water, yet she touched three or four times on the bar; but did no apparent damage. I stood upon the deck, until the land, trees and houses faded away in the distance.
Texas, like a beautiful damsel, has many charms and attractions, but is not entirely faultless. Indeed, there is no such place as a perfect elysium on earth. And those who have formed their opinion of the country from some of the many late publications concerning it, will feel some disappointment on their arrival. But its many beauties will hide a multitude of faults; or render them light and easily borne. I must say of Texas, as Cowper said of England, "with all its faults, I like it still;" and although I had experienced some hardships and inconveniences while in the country, yet its mild climate, pleasant streams, and enchanting "fields of living green," I left at last with serious regret.
The fall of the year is the best time to move into Texas; or into any of the western States. There are four good reasons to give for this preference: 1st. It is then better travelling; both on account of the dryness of the roads, and the mild temperature of the weather—neither too hot or too cold. 2d. It is more healthy on the road—not so much danger of contracting disease on the way; and to be there at the opening of the spring, and become accustomed to the climate and warm weather by degrees, there will be a fairer prospect of continued health. 3d. It is the time of the year when provisions are the most plenty and cheapest; an emigrant can, therefore, the more readily supply himself on the road, and after his arrival. 4th. It is the shortest time a person can be in the country, and raise a crop the ensuing season. To arrive in October, or the first of November, he will have plenty of time to build a log house, split out rails and fence in a field by the coming spring, so as to raise a crop.—Were he to go in the spring, he would be obliged to support himself and family a whole year before he could get a crop into the ground.
To go from the north to Texas, the better way is to take a passage on board a vessel bound to Galveston Bay, the river Brazos, or the Colorado. But if a vessel cannot readily be found, going direct to Texas, a passage may be taken to New-Orleans; and from thence, a person can go up the Red River to Natchitoches, and across the country; or by water through the Gulf, to almost any port on the bays and rivers. The distance from Boston by water, is three thousand miles; by land, it is not quite so far. From the city of New-York, vessels frequently may be found going direct to Texas. The most convenient places for landing in Texas are Harrisburg, on Galveston Bay; Velasco, at the mouth of the Brazos, and Metagorda at the mouth of the Colorado. It would be advisable to get a protection, more especially, if a person goes by water.
Speculation—ever busy, active speculation, pervades the world. It rages with violence in Maine, disturbs the quiet villages of New-England, keeps the western world alive, and visits the shores of Texas. I was at a loss to know how speculation could get hold of Texas lands; for they are only granted to the actual settler and only one grant given to each. Human ingenuity has devised a plan. When an emigrant arrives in the country, he is met by a land speculator, who tells him he knows of a good location, and if he will go and settle on it, he shall have one half of the league for nothing. The land is entered at the land office in the emigrant's name, the speculator pays the fees, and takes a deed of one half, from the emigrant. This is not the worst kind of speculation in the world. It, probably, may prove beneficial to both parties. The emigrant at least, seems to have no cause for complaint. He gets twenty three hundred acres of land, as much as he can ever cultivate, and pays nothing at all for it.
We had four passengers on board; two of whom were afflicted with that lingering disease called the fever and ague. They had resided a few months in the lowlands of Texas, and became so severely afflicted, they were returning to the United States for health. The other was a physician, who had gone up the river as far as Columbia; did not like the country and was on his return home to Tennessee. I informed him, he had not seen the most desirable portion of the country. And such was the fact.—But he had read some of the descriptions of the "beautiful river Brazos and the fine country adjacent," and was thereby completely deceived.
A sea voyage is always unpleasant to me. The wind blew a strong breeze, the waves rolled high, and made our vessel dance over them like a feather. We all became dreadfully sea sick. It is a terrible feeling; and those afflicted with it, probably endure as much excruciating pain and distress, as the human system is capable of sustaining. In two days, the wind abated in a measure, and the sea became comparatively smooth. We crawled out upon deck, our sickness abated, and soon left us entirely.
On the fifth day, just at night, we saw the light at the southwest pass of the Mississippi. It soon became dark, and the captain in attempting to enter the mouth of the river, run the vessel aground near the shore. A scene here occurred, that somewhat startled us. We were in the cabin and felt the vessel strike and heard the waves dash against her.—We ran up on deck, and there saw the captain seated upon the windlass, writhing in agony, and groaning like one in despair! The idea struck us in a moment, that the captain saw our danger to be imminent, the vessel would dash in pieces, and we must all perish. But we were immediately relieved from our apprehensions. In the darkness of the night, and hurry of the moment, the captain had been thrown across the pump, and severely injured; and it was from actual pain of body, rather than anguish of mind that made him groan so bitterly. We did not, however, feel entirely at ease. We were exposed to the open sea; and if the wind should rise, and blow hard on shore, the vessel must be dashed to pieces, and we escape the best way we could.