St. Louis, July 12.
My dear E.—The days we have spent here, we have been very busy, except Sunday, in examining every thing in and about this place. It is a very nice city, and one of much importance, has increased much lately, and will continue to increase. Its population is twenty-four thousand five hundred and fifty-five. In 1825 it was only six thousand. There are several good churches here, some of which, we attended to-day, it being Sunday. There is a pretty episcopal of the Gothic form, a baptist church, of brick, having a neat white porch in front—an unitarian, of plaster—a methodist, and a large cathedral belonging to the catholics. This is an odd picturesque building, and is one hundred and thirty-six feet by eighty-four broad, built of grey stone. You enter by a porch supported by four Doric columns. The body of the church is divided by columns, lighted by elegant chandaliers; the sacristy and altar are very handsome; the windows of painted glass; and there is in the church a fine painting of St. Louis, presented by Louis XVIII. The bells are from Normandy. We had penetrated two thousand miles in the wilderness of the west, and were glad to find we had not yet ‘travelled beyond the Sabbath.’
What nice resting spells these Sabbaths are! When whirled upon the stream of life, our attention occupied in avoiding the snags and sawyers and cross currents in our channel, how refreshing, how necessary is it for us to anchor for a little while, and look about, and consider our future course. The Sabbath is a precious anchor to the soul, giving it time to meditate upon its future career, and consult those charts which a kind heaven has sent to direct its route. The Sabbath is necessary to man, and was given in mercy. Physicians tell us rest is required for the machinery of man; that the brain and nerves, while forever upon the stretch will decay much sooner than if sometimes relaxed. It was the opinion of the great Wilberforce, that the suicide of Lord Londonderry and that of Sir Samuel Romilly was owing to their neglect of this day of rest. Speaking of the death of the former he says, ‘he was certainly deranged—the effect probably of continued wear and tear of the mind. But the strong impression of my mind is, that it is the effect of the non-observance of the Sabbath, both as abstracting from politics, from the continual recurrence of the same reflections, and as correcting the false views of worldly things, and bringing them down to their own indistinctness. He really was the last man in the world who appeared likely to be carried away into the commission of such an act, so cool, so self possessed! It is very curious to hear the newspapers speaking of incessant application to business, forgetting that by a weekly admission of a day of rest, which our Maker has graciously enjoined, our faculties would be preserved from the effects of this constant strain. I am strongly impressed with the recollection of your endeavors to prevail upon the lawyers to give up Sunday consultations in which poor Romilly would not concur. If he had suffered his mind to enjoy such occasional relaxations it is highly probable the strings would never have snapped, as they did, from over extension.’
July 13th.—This morning we took a coach and drove about to every thing worth seeing in the city. In the French part of the town, the streets are narrow and present quite a foreign and antique appearance. Here are several neat, white-washed steep roofed dwellings surrounded by piazzas, and occupied by the French part of the community. Main street, which corresponds with our Pearl street, runs parallel with the river, about a mile. It appears a very busy street and here one may obtain goods from all quarters of the world brought up from New Orleans,—and domestic wares from the country around. As you ascend from the river the streets are wider and better built, and the upper end of the city is laid out in wide streets fast filling up with handsome buildings, public and private, some of these last, surrounded by courts and adorned by trees. Here many eastern people dwell. A gentleman of the place, told us there had been nine hundred houses put up in the city this year, and from appearances I should think this a true estimate. There is a medical college in progress, and a large hotel nearly finished, which is said to be the largest hotel in the States. It is of red brick ornamented with white marble, and is altogether a handsome building. It is to be called the ‘St. Louis House.’ Several institutions are conducted by catholics, as the Convent of the Sacred Heart, and the University of St. Louis. In the library of the latter are nearly seven thousand volumes. The court house is of brick, with a circular portico supported by white columns. It stands in a large court in the centre of the city surrounded by an iron railing. We entered the hall, and ascending to the cupola, beheld a very delightful scene. The city is laid out as in a map below us—behind stretch the verdant prairies, in front the swift rolling Mississippi, and beyond it, the rich fields of the American bottoms in Illinois, and the white buildings of Illinois town opposite. While leaving the court house we were attracted by some advertisements upon the door, for the sale of slaves. We noticed one for the sale of ‘Theresa, a likely negro girl about twelve years of age.’ This was our first intimation we were in a land of slavery. You must not expect a dissertation upon slavery, for whatever my opinions are I shall keep them to myself, as I cannot mend or alter the state of things by my advise, nor is it a woman’s province to meddle in such high matters of State. However I might think, I certainly shall never speak in public upon the subject, as I have a good old friend, called St. Paul, and he in one of his letters says ‘It is a shame for a woman to speak in public,’ and ‘women should be keepers at home.’ It is true I am not a keeper at home just now, but I am travelling for health, and not to enlighten the people with my wisdom. The number of slaves in Missouri is forty eight thousand nine hundred and forty-one—its entire population is five hundred thousand. We visited a museum here, celebrated for its collection of organic remains, and we were surprised at the number and good preservation of these ‘medals of creation.’ The owner and keeper of this museum is Mr. Koch, a man of great enthusiasm upon the subject of paleantology. He had just returned from an expedition to the interior of Missouri from whence he had procured ninety weight of bones. Seeing our interest in these things he admitted us into an interior room which had the appearance of a charnel house, filled with bones and skeletons, which his servant was covering with preparation to preserve them from the effects of the air. Among them were gigantic remains of the mastodon and other huge animals, with teeth in excellent preservation. This museum contained many well preserved specimens, the most important of all was a huge animal with tusks, which he called missourium. He found also a head of an unknown animal which is certainly the largest quadruped whose remains have been discovered, having two horns each ten feet long, extending out horizontally on each side, making with the head, a length of twenty-five feet from the tip of one tusk to that of the other. The missourium, so called from the State in which it was found, was an animal much larger than the elephant, having tusks measuring four and a half feet in length, and one and a half in circumference near the head. These animals, with the antediluvial rein-deer, and horse of a large size, and myriads of broken bones, were found by Mr. Koch last May, near the sulphur springs, at Little Rock creek, twenty-two miles south of St. Louis. They were in a valley surrounded by high cliffs; this great deposit of bones forming an ‘osseous brescia, such as is found upon the east coast of the Mediterranean sea.’ ‘The lower strata upon whose surface these bones were deposited,’ says Mr. Koch in his written description which he gave us, ‘consists of a bluish sand resembling that which is often found upon the bottom of the Mississippi.’ These bones were cemented in a layer of gravel one and a half feet in thickness. The cement is calcareous, of a yellow grey color, containing saltpeter. It combines the bones and gravel together, so that it is with the greatest difficulty they can be separated; this layer is covered with a crust of chrystalization. The next strata is composed of small pieces of rock, and bones, broken, and in some instances ground to powder; these rocks are limestone, some of them weighing several tons. The next strata is blue clay from two to four feet in thickness, containing few bones; this clay is covered with broken rocks again, above which is the soil covered with trees. The whole mass makes a hill, sloping down from the rocky bluff, of thirty or forty feet, to the creek. Mr. Koch is of opinion these animals herded together, and sought shelter under these cliffs during some great convulsion of nature, and here met their death by being crushed by crumbling rocks, and covered with debris. Here we saw also the remains of that animal which I mentioned in one of my former letters as having been killed by human hands. Beneath it had been built a fire of wood, and around it were Indian axes, and large pieces of stone which had been thrown at it as if for the purpose of killing it. The animal had evidently been mired and killed by the inhabitants. This is a discovery of great importance, proving the mastodon, according to Indian tradition, had lived since the deluge. He showed us the elephant fish, or spoonbill, taken from a lake in Illinois, which was saturated with oil, although it had been cleaned and dried several years; also some live specimens of prairie animals—the wolverine, the prairie wolf, and the marmot or prairie dog, a small grey animal, famous for dwelling in the same nest with the prairie owl. You have heard of this prairie dog, whose villages extend over many acres in the prairies; they burrow under the ground, having, over the entrance to their hole, a small mound about two feet high and eighteen inches wide. Charles Lucien Bonaparte says of them, ‘It is a very odd circumstance that this owl and dog should share the same habitation, but so it is; and they present an example of unity which is quite pleasing.’ Another striking feature in the case of these animals is, they make the same cry, cheh, cheh, pronounced several times in rapid succession.
In the afternoon we strolled out to the suburbs of the town to see the Indian mounds, several of which are grouped together near the river bank, in the environs of the city. One of them is enclosed within the grounds of General Ashley, an ornament as rare as it is beautiful. Upon another is built the city waterworks. Upon one, about twenty feet high, a truncated cone, covered with soft grass, we seated ourselves, enjoying the silence, and watching the Mississippi’s flood rolling below us, while we mused upon the fate and fortunes of these ancient ‘mound builders.’ The thermometer had stood at ninety-six all day, and we were glad to escape the heat and dust of the city. The sun had disappeared, but had left a soft amber radiance upon shore and river, and a purple haze upon the tops of the distant bluffs of Illinois. While gazing upon these monuments, and looking at the relics of a lost race which they contain, we try in vain to pierce the mists of time and answer the ‘who were they?’ which we ask ourselves. The vast valley between the Alleghany mountains, and the Rocky or Chippewayan chain, is studded with these antique mounds, from three feet to two hundred feet in height. They are generally in the form of a parallelogram except in the north-west where they take the shape of a cone, and by a late discovery, in Wisconsin, they are seen taking the figure of men and animals. There is a human effigy which is one hundred and twenty-five feet long; the others are rude resemblances to the buffalo, birds, alligator, etc.; these are all lying down upon the surface of the earth. Our Indian tribes each take the name of an animal, as fox, beaver, buffalo, etc., which custom might have also prevailed with the effigy builders. There are several grouped together here, around the one upon which we are sitting, and several upon the Illinois shore opposite. These last consist of small ones surrounding a larger one, which has a circumference of six hundred yards at the base, and is ninety feet in height; half way down the side is a step, or platform, cut into the hill about fifteen feet wide. It is called Monk’s hill, from the circumstance of its having been the residence of some monks of La Trappe, who, during the troubles of the revolution, fled to this country and built a house upon this mound. Here they kept a garden and supported themselves selling its produce at St. Louis, and by repairing clocks and watches. Their penances were very severe. What an illustration of Shakspeare, ‘patience on a monument,’ were these old men while meditating upon a tumulus in a howling wilderness. In vain we puzzle our brain as to the cause of these structures, and ask are they erected for mausoleums, watch towers, or temples? Those which have been opened contain human remains, ancient pottery, instruments of war, and are evidently places of sepulchre. Some of them contain rude earthen vases which had been filled with food for the use of the deceased. In vases discovered in an Indian sepulchre, near Steubenville, upon the Mingo Bottom, were bones of turkies, oppossums, &c., which had been placed there, that their friends might not want food upon their journey to the land of spirits. Stone pipes are also found, cut out of their sacred red clay of St. Peters, or steatite greenstone and limestone, some bearing resemblances to eagle’s or other bird’s heads. Arrow heads of flint or quartz, are also found with the former article, with idols, silver and copper rings, and rosaries. You have heard, I suppose, of the circle of mounds around which is built the town of Circleville, upon the Scioto river, of Ohio. Here was an ancient city, enclosed by a double wall of earth, with a ditch between the walls. The walls and ditch occupy nearly seventy feet, which gives thirty feet as the base of each wall, and ten for the width of the ditch. This circular town, or it may be fortification, was three hundred and fifty yards across. A square fort is near this, the walls of which were twenty feet wide, without any ditch. The fort is three hundred yards across, and is an exact square. The present town is laid out on these ancient and venerable works; the court house, built in the form of an octagon, stands in the centre of the circular fort, and occupies the spot once covered by a large and beautiful mound, but which was levelled to make room for the building. This forms the nucleus, around which runs a circular street, with a spacious common between the court house and street; on this street the principal taverns and stores are erected, and most of the business done. Four other streets run out of the circle, like radii from a centre. On the south side of this circle stands a conical hill, crowned with an artificial mound; a street has lately been opened across the mound, and in removing the earth, many skeletons were found in good preservation. A cranium of one of them was in my possession, and is a noble specimen of the race which once occupied these ancient walls. It has a high forehead, large and bold features, with all the phrenological marks of daring and bravery. Poor fellow, he died overwhelmed by numbers, as the fracture of the right parietal bone by a battle-axe, and five large stone arrows sticking in and about his bones still bear testimony.[22]
We must regret the destruction of these mounds, but in consideration of those which are allowed to remain undisturbed, and of the taste and fancy displayed by the citizens of Circleville, in laying out their town among them, we may forgive them. There is an ancient fortification near the junction of the river Wisconsin with the Mississippi, in the angles of which mounds are erected. Upon the plantation of Walter Irvin, Esq., about ten miles from Natchez, and seven from the Mississippi, is another very singular group of fortifications and tumuli. If you desire my opinion, I should decidedly say they were erected over the slain in battle. Sometimes they contain but one body, perhaps of some great chieftain, whom the enemy’s archers have stricken; others are erected over several bodies, laid in layers, who, as fast as they have fallen, have been laid upon the mound, the earth placed over them, to receive another layer, until the tumulus is finished. Where they are grouped together, and where fortifications remain, the spot may have been the field of some great battle, whose slaughtered ranks required many mounds to cover them. We know it was the custom of eastern nations to erect mounds over the dead. The army of Alexander erected over the body of Demeratus a monument of earth eight cubits high and of vast circumference. Semiramis raised a mound to the memory of Ninus. We read of their erection by the Babylonians in their trenches, during sieges. Who were the people that erected these tumuli is wrapped in mystery which I shall not endeavor to penetrate, but refer you to Delafield’s Antiquities of America, who seems to have discovered much in the Mexican records, which throws light upon the subject. It is his opinion they were Sycthians who crossed to this country over Behring’s Straits, and these people were once the builders of the tower of Babel, and dwelt upon the plains of Shinar. When dispersed by the confusion of tongues, a portion of them wandered through Tartary to the ocean, and there crossed, and gradually passed down the North American continent, to Mexico and Peru. He deduces his evidence from, 1st. Philology—as three-fifths of the American dialects resemble the language of northern Asia, two-fifths the Coptics, and others the Sycthian; which last he traces in the tribes of South American, and the others to the North American savages: 2nd, Anatomy, which proves ‘there is much resemblance between the cranium of the race of the mounds and ancient Peru, with those of the modern Hindoos;’ mythology and hieroglyphics, architecture, manners and customs. The pyramids of Mexico, Peru, our country and the Sycthian nations, are the same, with little variation; some of earth, and others of stone. Mr. Delafield gives a plan of a building used as a receptacle of the remains of the princess Tzapotee in Mexico, which much resembles some of the ruins in Ohio. This is called Mignitlan, the place of desolation. In the article upon manners and customs, he relates the discovery of some shells of the pyrula perversa in a tumulus, which are used in Asia at religious ceremonies, and only found upon the coasts of Ilindostan. He traces these nations from the plains of Shinar to Tartary, where are numerous mounds, some in groups as they are found here, all containing bodies, with idols and implements of war, provisions, &c. In his interesting book, he exhibits the celebrated Aztec map, upon which by hieroglyphical figures their course is traced from Behring’s Straits to Mexico and Peru. Among other figures we see there a boat, rowed by a man, meaning crossing the water; a large tree, indicating their arrival from the icy regions to a fertile land; a rushing river, telling of the Mississippi; and lastly, a Mexican plant, denotes their arrival in that land. Surrounding, and between these figures, are hieroglyphics signifying battles, towns built, sacrifices, councils, feasts, &c., and the number of years that the tribe remained in one place. He has sustained his hypothesis very ably, and yet we may say, with Schoolcraft, this is a race ‘whose origin, whose history and whose annihilation live only in conjecture.’ It is to be hoped the citizens of St. Louis are aware of the treasures enclosed within the city and will take measures for their preservation—the place would be capable of much ornament as a public garden. As our country becomes settled these interesting reliques will be destroyed if care be not taken to prevent it. Their number may give us an idea of the myriads who once roved over these plains, and we may say, while passing through the regions of the west, we are travelling over a ‘buried world.’ Beside these races, the Spanish, French, English, and Americans have lived and died here.
The city of St. Louis which is now so filled with Americans that it is rapidly assuming an American appearance, was once inhabited by French alone. The founder M. Auguste Choteau was alive when La Fayette visited here, but very aged. When young, enterprising, and ardent, he led the expedition which in seventeen hundred and sixty four ascended the river to found a city. He selected the site and with his own axe struck down the first tree; houses soon arose, and the limestone rocks around, as if by magic, were transformed into ware houses. As the French influence in the country was lost, the town stood still until the American emigrants flowed in, and since then it has rapidly arisen to its present flourishing state, doing a business of six millions of dollars annually. St Louis is the capitol of the far west, and must continue to increase. It is the central point of the great valley of the Mississippi which extends two thousand five hundred miles in width from the Alleghany or Apalachian mountains to the Chipewayan; and three thousand miles in length. It is seated upon a noble river, by which it is only three days voyage to the Mexican gulf,—only eighteen miles from the mouth of the grand Missouri, thirty six from the great artery of Illinois and two hundred from the Ohio, through whose waters it has access to every portion of the States. Behind it is a noble region of land watered by magnificent rivers, abounding in metals, coal and stone quarries, covered by a rich soil, and blessed with a mild climate.
July 14th.—The morning being fine we were advised to take some of the fashionable drives, and accordingly sat out for the Prairie House. The citizens could not choose a pleasanter place to enjoy fresh air and verdure. As we left the city, we passed several handsome country seats, and then found ourselves in the prairie, which is of the species of land called ‘barren,’ covered with dwarf oak, crab apple, hazel bushes and prairie plums. The road wound through copses, and tufts of shrubbery for three miles when we arrived at the Prairie House, which is a pretty building, surrounded by shade trees and gardens. After cooling ourselves with ice creams, we re-entered the carriage and drove three miles further to the Sulpher Springs. Leaving the coach at the door of a large house, we descended a deep dell, shaded by weeping elms, immense oaks, and beeches, among which ran a brook ‘that to the sleepy woods all night singeth a quiet tune.’ The water was bright and sparkling, but very nauseous, and tasted to my companion like the Harrowgate waters. The walks around this stream are very pleasant, and must be quite refreshing to the tired and heated citizen. There is much company here during the summer. We took another road home, and passed through a fine prairie the commencement of the celebrated Florisante prairie which stretches from St Louis to the Missouri. Although trees were grouped upon the plains, we passed several spots,