Upon the 30th of December, after we had passed a cold night in our clap-board hut, which allowed the storm free admission, and locked our few articles of property in our chamber, from fear of the Indians sneaking about, we started before break of day, and rode a distance of thirty-three miles to Fort Mitchel. The weather was cold the whole day through, and threatened rain. The country again very uninteresting, mostly pines, a sandy soil, here and there mingled with clay: at length wood with green leaves. Only in low situations, along the rivulets, of which we passed three, was the vegetation to be admired. The laurel bushes particularly looked well. It gave me real pleasure to be able to walk in a green thicket along a brook, which I could have accomplished with difficulty in summer, since these bushes are the favourite resort of a great number of rattlesnakes. In a solitary plantation we took our breakfast; it belonged to a Mr. Colfrey, a worthy old Virginian, who had lost a considerable property, and to better his circumstances, had determined on the hard alternative of settling among the Indians. We found his plantation in a very uncommon state of order and neatness, and we were delighted by an unexpected and most excellent breakfast. Mr. Bowdoin said to the owner of the place, that he appeared as if he had not always lived thus among the savages, and never can I forget how the old man, with tears in his eyes, turned away without making an answer.
We met with several wigwams, and various temporary cabins of travelling Indians, also a number of bridges, at which we were obliged to pay the Indians toll. The country was very hilly till we came into a valley, a mile from our night quarters, through which the Chatahouchee flowed. This river empties itself into the Mexican gulf. The district, even to the left bank of the river, is rather marshy, grown up with willows, laurel, and cane. Not far from the river we beheld several buildings appointed for the popular assembly of the Indians, called the big talk. They are large and round, having a conical-formed roof, covered with tree-bark; they have walls of lime, and a covered low entrance also of lime. The Indians assemble in these buildings only in bad weather, or at night, and then a fire kindled in the middle of the house, gives light. In good weather they collect in a square place covered with sheds, under which the Indians sit down on planks protected from the sun’s heat. There is also another place for public games, and particularly for ball-playing. They appeared here also to have a species of masquerade, for we found some in a half gourd, cut through and made into a mask, with eyes and mouth cut in it, and the nose set on of a piece of wood. From the neck of the gourd, which was cut at half its length, they had made a pair of horns, and fasted them on the mask, and under this a long white beard.
We passed the river Chatahouchee at one of the ferries belonging to the Indians, and kept in order by them. The right bank is somewhat steep, of red earth, which, from the violent rain, had become slippery. Half a mile from the ferry brought us to Fort Mitchel. It stood upon a height, and was situated to the right of us. We dismounted not far from this, between Indian wigwams at Crowell’s tavern. The host was a brother of the Indian agent. This house has also a plantation attached to it, as the one above-mentioned had. Colonel Wool and I were lodged in an airy out-house of clap-boards, without a ceiling, and windows without glass. We were accommodated with freer circulation than would have fallen to our lot in a German barn. Four companies of the fourth regiment of infantry, the staff of which was fixed at Pensacola, lay in garrison at the fort. The commandant, Major Donoho, and his officers had taken board at Crowell’s tavern; in the evening we made acquaintance with them. The most of these officers, pupils of the school at West Point, were men of information, and we passed the remainder of the evening much pleased with their society.
We made the 31st of December a day of rest, as Colonel Wool had to inspect the garrison of the fort. The four companies here stationed form properly the garrison of Pensacola, and were only sent here last summer during the contest between Georgia and the United States, to protect the Creeks against the encroachments of that State. It openly wishes to take possession of the Indian territory to the Chatahouchee, to which river, agreeable to the charter, Georgia extends. The right bank of the river, on which we now found ourselves, is in the jurisdiction of the State of Alabama. The troops arriving, at first encamped here, but immediately commenced building a new but smaller fort, on the spot where Fort Mitchell stands, so called in honour of the then governor of Georgia, which they now occupy. They hoped, however, that they should return to Pensacola as soon as the disagreements had been settled.
After the inspection, we took a walk to a plantation lying near, which belonged to an Indian named M‘Intosh. He was absent at Washington as a delegate from his nation. He is the son of that M‘Intosh, who obtained from the State of Georgia the title of General, and who last spring, on account of the treaty with the state, had been shot by his countrymen and hewed in pieces. Polygamy prevails among the Indians. The young M‘Intosh had indeed only two wives, a white woman and an Indian. They say he had several wives whom he wished to keep: the white woman however had driven them with scolding and disgrace out of the house, as she would only submit to one Indian rival. We did not see the Indian wife. The white wife, however, received us quite politely. She is the daughter of a planter in Georgia, and tolerably pretty. She was attired in the European style, only according to the Indian fancy in dress, she carried a quantity of glass beads about her neck. She showed us her two children, completely white, and also the portrait of her father-in-law, as large as life, with the sword of honour given him by the United States. The family is in very good circumstances, and possesses seventy negroes.
In the afternoon we went to a Methodist mission, one short mile distant. We found none but the women at home. The missionaries have established a school, which is frequented by thirty children. They have three Indian girls, boarders, who were extremely modest. The mission is situated in a handsome plantation, on which I saw tame deer. The deer here are evidently smaller than those in Europe.
Sunday, the 1st of January, 1826, we were awakened by the drums and fifes, which announced the new year, by playing Hail Columbia and Yankee Doodle. With the break of day, between seven and eight o’clock, we left Fort Mitchel, and rode twenty-five miles to a plantation called Lewis’s, which is located on the spot, upon which, in the last war, Fort Bainbridge stood. The road ran through a very hilly country. At first the soil was sandy and poor, it bore nothing but pine trees. After we had passed over half the distance, the soil improved, it looked reddish-yellow, and the apparently everlasting pines gave place to handsome oaks and lofty hickories. On the other hand the carriage road became very bad, and in a narrow place we upset. The carriage fell slowly towards my side, I took the right moment, sprung from the box on which I sat, and fell upon my feet. This was the eighth time I had been overturned, and never did I escape so cheap as on this occasion. As none of the other gentlemen were injured, we could happily laugh at our accident. The carriage was somewhat damaged, and since we were only four miles distant from Lewis’s, and had very fine weather, a true spring day, with clear dark-blue sky, we went the rest of the way on foot.
We passed several wigwams and temporary Indian huts, in which the men lived with the hogs, and lay around the fire with them. A hut of this description is open in front, behind it is closed with pieces of wood and bark. The residents live on roasted venison and Indian corn. The hides of the deer, and even of cattle, they stretch out to dry in the sun, and then sell them. At one hut, covered with cane leaves, there was venison roasting, and bacon smoking. The venison is cut in pieces, and spitted on a cane stalk, many such stalks lie upon two blocks near each other. Under these the fire is kindled, and the stalk continually turned round, till the flesh is dried through. Upon this is laid a hurdle made of cane which rests on four posts. To this are all the large pieces suspended. The hams of bacon are laid upon the hurdle so that the smoke may draw through them.
The grass in many parts of the woods was in a blaze, and many pine trees were burning. We crossed two small streams, the Great and Little Uchee, on tolerable wooden bridges. Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon we reached Lewis’s, a handsome house, the best that we had found in the Indian territory. We took here an excellent dinner. We ate daily of the best of venison. In Fort Mitchel we had eaten partridges, of which the officers in one day took fifty-seven in the morning, and forty-six in the evening, in their nets. For the singularity of the thing, I will notice our dinner of to-day, that the inquisitive reader may observe that one is in no danger of hunger on the lands of the Indians: soup of turnips, roast-beef, a roast-turkey, venison with a kind of sour sauce, roast-chickens, and pork with sweet potatoes.
On the 2d of January we rode thirty-one miles to Walker’s, also a solitary plantation. The country hilly, the road bad to such a degree that we could only creep along in the most tedious manner, and were obliged to proceed on foot very often. The wood on the other hand grew better and better, and consisted, besides the pines, of handsome oaks, and various sorts of nut-bearing trees, mostly hickories: the soil, for the most part, of a reddish yellow. In several marshy places, and on the banks of rivulets, we saw again the evergreen trees and bushes, and in a swamp nearly a mile long, through which a causeway ran, some magnolia grandiflora which were at least sixty feet high. I also saw here again several trees, which first forming one trunk, four or five feet above the ground, divided themselves into two trunks, and then shot up into the air one hundred feet. In the north-western part of the state of New York, I have seen trees which ran up in five, six, and even seven trunks. Over a stream with marshy banks, a bridge was thrown, three hundred and eleven paces long: the view which I took from this bridge of the luxuriant exotic vegetation which surrounded me, exhibited, as I thought, the original of the sketches of the Brazilian forests in the travels of the Prince Nieuwied. The beautiful day, the cloudless dark-blue sky, also introduced by him, were recalled to me by this picture. But when I observed upon the trees the hateful Spanish moss, I was reminded that I was in the neighbourhood of Columbia and Charleston, and that it was a token of unwholesome air. In the swamps I noticed several plants which were known to me from hot-house cultivation, but unfortunately I cannot recall their names.