July 18th.—We are now approaching the falls of the Ohio, which are rapids caused by a ledge of blue limestone rocks, which here cross the river, and impede the navigation except in very high water. To avoid this, a canal is cut across the bend of the river, two and a half miles in length to Louisville. This canal is excavated out of the compact limestone, and the cut is in some places ten feet deep. There are four locks. The amount of tolls received here from eighteen hundred and thirty-one to eighteen hundred and thirty-seven, was, according to Judge Hall, four hundred and seventy-five thousand twenty-five dollars and fourteen cents, and he gives a list of four hundred and seventeen steamboats which passed through the canal during the year eighteen hundred and thirty seven.
There is a small place called Shipping Port, at the mouth of the canal, where we observed several handsome carriages in waiting, for those who thus preferred it, to the slower operation of ascending twenty-two feet of lockage. Here were several steamboats moored. As we entered the second lock, the North Star, a fine boat, of one hundred and forty-eight tons came dashing into the lock we had left, and when we had both ascended, the Maine, which we had passed upon the river yesterday, entered the first lock, so that we had the novel spectacle of three large steamboats, filled with merchandize and passengers, all at one time rising and falling in several locks. The locks are large enough for first class boats, and the whole of the canal is finished in the most solid and beautiful manner. It is fifty feet wide at surface. No horses are used, we passed through by steam. The strata cut through at the canal presented, 1st. friable slate three inches; five feet of fetid limestone, containing petrifactions, water lime, blue limestone, compact grey limestone, with nodules of quartz and limestone. The water lime was used by the workmen. Cedar trees were dug up, human bones and fire places. When we had left the canal, we beheld before us the sloping bank, covered with houses, manufactories, churches, &c. This was Louisville, the capital of Kentucky, seated upon a gradually rising bank, commanding a fine view of the river and the Indiana shore opposite. We landed, and as we had but two hours to remain here, we immediately entered a coach, and directed the man to drive us through all the streets, past every remarkable building, and in fact show us all the lions. My head was out the window a dozen times, calling ‘Driver what building is that?’ The streets are wide and straight, containing many handsome buildings. Main street is the principal business street, and is lined with rows of shops upon each side, for, it seemed to me a mile, and in the suburbs, iron and cotton factories, steam mills, &c. The private houses are handsome, and some of the new ones, built of the native limestone, threaten to rival any in the State. The hotels seemed calculated to accommodate a large number of travellers. The court house which is now building, is very large, and when finished will be quite an ornament to the city. It is an oolite limestone found in Indiana. We passed a high school, seminary, twelve churches, a theatre, three markets, and a large building with wings, having a portico in front, supported with marble columns, which is, we were told, the Marine Hospital. This city carries on a brisk trade. There are twenty-five steamboats, over a hundred tons burthen, which ply between this port and Cincinnati, and New Orleans. Louisville is five hundred and thirty-four miles from St. Louis, and we have one hundred and thirty-two more to go to Cincinnati. If we are to believe one of their papers, the cause of education flourishes, as there has been published, this year, by one firm, one hundred and thirteen thousand volumes of school books, they having in these and other works expended sixteen thousand dollars worth of paper. Our driver stopped at the gate of a public garden, which he said was a fashionable resort. We peeped in, but were more anxious to behold works of art than nature, and soon re-entered the carriage, and finding our time expired, returned to the vessel. Here we were obliged to wait some time, and in the meanwhile amused ourselves, in examining the shore. Corn Island, with the rapids glittering in the morning sun, was upon one side, and upon the other, the town of Jeffersonville, is situated upon an elevated bank, on the Indiana shore. The buildings are very showy, being of red brick, and some of them pretty. Steam ferry boats are constantly passing between this place and Louisville. Corn Island, is said by the Indians to have been the last stand of the last of the mound builders, who, they say, were driven away from the country by their ancestors. I forgot to mention New Albany, which we passed a few miles beyond Louisville. It is a considerable place, doing much business, and having several churches, lyceum, schools, and other public institutions. The heat drove me into the ladies’ cabin, which being empty, I sat down to put down a few notes. I had scarcely seated myself, when the young catholic runaway, I mentioned before, rushed in, and throwing herself beside me, hid her head in my lap exclaiming, ‘Oh, they are here, my mother, my father! they will separate me from Edward forever!’ I looked towards the door with much anxiety, for I had heard the southern planters were a gouging, raw head and bloody bones sort of people, who whipped a slave to death once a week, and I feared for the fate of the poor young wife. My information however, had been taken from foreign tourists, and I found this idea like many others I had imbibed from them, was far from truth. Imagine my surprise, when a pleasant, good humored looking man entered the room, and seating himself in a chair, gave way to a hearty fit of laughter. His wife, a tall, slender, lady-like looking personage, walked directly up to her daughter, and folded her in her arms, while gentle tears flowed over her cheeks. I looked at the father in perplexity, wondering at his extraordinary merriment, and at Edward who stood beside him, having, I thought, a most unbecoming smirk upon his countenance. The lady looked up to her husband reproachfully, but said nothing. ‘My dear madam,’ he said at last to me, ‘I understand you have taken a kind interest in my little girl’s concerns, and I owe it to you to explain the circumstances of the case. Anxious to give my daughter the best of education, I sent her to a convent not far from my estate, where there were some very accomplished ladies from Europe, who could teach her all I wished her to know. But when I went to take her home, my lady fancied herself a catholic, and renounced her home and friends forever. I returned home in despair, and while revolving my future proceedings in this disagreeable affair, Edward, the son of a dear friend, who several years since had removed to New York came to make us a visit. In telling him my difficulties, I added how glad I should have been, had this not occurred, to give her and my plantation to him. ‘I will scale the convent and carry her off,’ he said, in a jest. The idea struck me as a good one, I pressed it upon him, and you see here they are, and have my hearty blessing.’ The bride, as her father spoke, had gradually dried her tears, and raised her head a little. When she began to understand the denouement, she first blushed deeply with mortification, then pouted, and at last burst suddenly into a merry laugh, and ran like a fawn into her father’s outspread arms, exclaiming, ‘Oh, you naughty papa! you good for nothing papa!’ The party soon after departed, and I received kind expressions and adieus from all, and a few tears from the bride. All pressed us to visit them, and the father said if we would only come to Big Bloody Bone Buffalo Lick, he would show us the finest blue grass fields, best corn and tobacco, and heartiest negroes in all old Kentuck. And if I wanted a nice young girl to wait upon me, I should have the pick of all his slaves. I was quite delighted to meet with such a romantic adventure, for I had been looking out for something, as you must be very tired of hearing about nothing but trees, and rivers, and towns. Pray do not think I made this out of my fertile brain, I assure you it is true.
After leaving Louisville the shores become more cultivated upon each side than they have been. Extensive cornfields, in Indiana, show they are as great ‘corn-crackers’ as their neighbors. The houses are better built, and always of brick or limestone, as pine is scarce upon the Ohio. The Kentucky river empties into the Ohio, about sixty miles above Louisville; it is a beautiful stream coming down from the Cumberland mountain, running through high limestone cliffs, and a rich country, containing salt, coal, and iron, in abundance. It is three hundred and twenty-five miles long, and upon it stands Frankfort. At its mouth is a town called Port William, a small place. Kentucky shore, now becomes more cultivated and its blue grass fields nod in concert to the maize of the opposite side. Nothing could be prettier than the Ohio as we sailed along its ‘amber tide’ this day. The yellow marl, which occurs so frequently along its banks gives it a yellowish tinge. The river looked as if it had been arranged by the hand of a landscape gardener, so prettily combined was the grand and beautiful. The trees are so many of them cultivated with us in our ornamented grounds, that it takes from the wildness of the scene. Here we saw the locust, the horse-chestnut, the willow, tulip and column like cotton tree. Among these the Virginia creeper, grape, and other vines are clustering and swinging in the summer breeze. Springing from spray to spray was the mocking bird, blue bird, and brilliant green and red paroquet flashing in the mid-day sun. Among these are pretty towns, farms, and cottages—the whole having a back ground of jagged precipice, or smooth swelling hills. Madison, upon the Indiana shore, is the place where we were to strike the Ohio, if we had journeyed through Indiana as we proposed at first. A railroad leads from this town to Indianapolis, ninety-five miles, and is completed to Vernon, twenty-five miles. From Indianapolis to La Fayette is a McAdamized road, and another rail-road will soon be completed from the latter place to lake Michigan. That would have been our route, and we should have seen some of the best towns in Indiana. Madison is a very pretty town, and larger than any we had passed. It is built principally of brick, and we counted six churches and a court house, besides banks, founderies, factories, mills and boat yards. The streets are wide and McAdamized. It is situated upon a sloping bank of the river, while behind it, the hills which rose up to nearly three hundred feet, were covered with farms, dotted with sheep and cottages. Some handsome mansions were erected among the hills in conspicuous situations and must have commanded a fine view of the town beneath, and the river winding away through bluffs and forests in front of them. The population is about two thousand. Madison is fifty-three miles from Louisville, and twenty miles farther is Vevay, settled by a party of emigrants from Switzerland. The river here stretches away to the north, leaving a point which is the county of Switzerland, bathed upon two sides by the Ohio, and containing very fertile soil. Here the transplanted Swiss have made a new home, and it is a very beautiful one, occupying themselves in raising grapes. Their vineyards are very flourishing and they make much good wine. They cultivate the blue grape, Madiera grape, and the native county grape, which makes good wine. The hills here, no doubt, often resound with the songs of their father land from which they are so many miles distant. As we approach the State of Ohio we feel as if we were returning to a cultivated country, for farms and dwellings, of superior style, denoting wealth and prosperity, occur frequently upon the shores. One of them was quite elegant, built of brick, faced with marble, and adorned with a portico in front, of the same material. Our setting sun is obscured by dark frowning clouds, which threaten us with a storm. It comes in whirling spray and wind which makes our stout bark rock under us, and the terrific thunder out-roars our groaning steam-pipe. In the course of half an hour it was over, but hundreds of lofty trees had been swept from the banks and now were floating past us in all their leafy honors. A sudden stop in our boat’s speed sent us all out to ascertain the cause. I asked if it were another log, but found the engine had met with some breakage, which would detain us a little while. The steamboat was laid by the shore, and took this opportunity to get a supply of wood. As the evening was mild we left the boat for a stroll, and to say we had been in Indiana. With some little effort we climbed the cliffs, and when there, found ourselves in front of a neat farm house surrounded by barns and orchards. The passengers spread themselves about in every direction, and we were very much provoked to see some of them wantonly pulling off the young green apples and throwing them to the hogs for amusement. I do not know what kind of consciences these people had—I would as soon have stolen the farmer’s pigs as his apples; but I know men and boys are always rather lax in their morality towards apple orchards. Prompted by a Yankee curiosity to see the inside of an Indiana cottage, I opened the gate, and after passing through a small court-yard adorned with flowers, we entered the open door and found ourselves in a neat apartment with comfortable carpets, chairs, etc. This room opened again upon a long piazza at the side of the house, ornamented with a row of clean bright churns and milk pans. The farmer and his wife now entered followed by a troop of children bearing pails loaded with foaming rich milk. They were surprised to find strangers in their house and quite a crowd in front of it. Soon understanding the case, they kindly invited us to be seated and offered us a choice of new milk or hard cider. They had emigrated here from New York State soon after their marriage, and having hewed themselves a home in the forest, had gradually, by industry and perseverance, brought every thing around them to its present flourishing condition. They seemed happy and healthy. From their door there was a lovely view of the winding river, and the plains of Kentucky opposite. When we had descended to the shore we amused ourselves gathering specimens of the rocks. They were a hard dark brown limestone, and appeared a mass of organic remains, containing encrini, terabratula, and orthoceratites. We searched the pebbles along the shore in hopes of finding some of the pretty silecious specimens which I had found upon the Illinois, but succeeded, however, in picking up only some small pieces of jasper and a few petrified shells. At a little distance a flat boat was drawn up to the shore and fastened to a tree; one of those long odd looking species of water craft which once was the only kind seen upon these rivers. A man came from it, and as he reached us, bade us politely good evening, and asked what we were searching for. Some persons would have found his conduct very improper, and his question impertinent, but I never mistake the frank, kind, independent manner of my countrymen for impertinence. We returned his salute and informed him of the object of our search. ‘You’ll find nothing here so pretty as is on the Mississippi and lake Superior. I’ve been pretty much over them regions and found some rale beauties—they are called cornelions, and red a’most as them what’s used as watch seals. I found some geodes, I think they call ’em, also.’ I said I had heard of those and hoped some might have been washed down upon these shores. ‘My wife’s got some in the boat which she’ll show you ma’am if you walk there.’ I looked up at the boat from whose windows several female heads were taking observations, and concluded to go there. We followed our new acquaintance into his ark, which I found was his house and shop, he being a floating pedlar, and had anchored, or rather tied his ark to the rocks here to avoid the storm. His boat was not the common flat boat, but was of the species called keel boats, and occasionally carried a sail. In addition to his sail he used oars and poles to propel it with. It was a rudely built affair, just high enough within for a man to stand, but every thing was comfortably arranged. His wife and his other woman were setting the supper table. At his request she readily displayed her stores, and would have pressed them upon me if I would have taken them. After we had returned to our boat we looked towards the shore and beheld the crew assembled for a jumping match. They were a motly assemblage of fire-men, covered with soot, pilots, stewards, etc. They formed a line—one of them placing himself in the centre, holding a stone in each hand, swayed himself backward and forward, and then sprang, some jumping eighteen, twenty and twenty-two feet, with the greatest ease. While crew and passengers were thus amusing themselves, we were aroused by the cry of ‘The Ione is coming! away boys, away!’ and bounding over the shore they were soon in the boat. We understood the meaning of this sudden cry, and were much amused with the amazement and terror depicted in the countenances of those who did not. ‘What is coming?’ they cried. ‘Bears, wolves, sawyers, what!’ It was soon all explained; the Ione was in view, which we had left behind us, and it was feared it would arrive at Cincinnati before us. The hands were working with all their might; the breakage was finished; the paddle threw up a whirl of foam; steam whizzed; pipes snorted; engineer’s bell tingled, and away we went, hurry skurry, after our rivals who had passed us with a triumphant cheer. Straining every rope and piece of machinery we soon shot ahead of the presumptuous Ione, ringing our bell and shouting in our turn. She was determined not to be out done, and a regular race came on. We ladies all determined we would not go to bed, but would remain up, alarmed and uncomfortable; one went so far as to threaten to faint if the captain did not slacken his speed, but we were laughed at by the gentlemen who enjoyed the sport. Hour after hour of the night passed away while we rushed swiftly through the waters, with our foe just in our rear. ‘Hurra! fling on more wood!’ was the cry from below. High blazed the furious fire, illuminating the water around; the steam increased—the engine worked madly—the boat strained and groaned at every stroke, and seemed actually to spring out of the water. Behind us came our rival puffing, panting, snorting, throwing out volumes of flame and sparks like some fiery dragon of old, and as she came near, we could see into her lower deck, where around the fierce fire, shadowy forms were rushing, bounding, carrying wood, heaping it on, shouting and cursing. One strain too much—one upright snag in our path, and we should all be strewed, some hundred souls, upon the water, writhing, agonizing, dying—and all for what? that we might arrive one hour the sooner in the night, at Cincinnati, where we should be obliged to lie still till morning; or perhaps it was the honor of beating another boat,—honor here setting the steam in motion as well as the sword. Our rival, unable to compete with us, abandoned the race, and was soon left behind; our people satisfied with this wonderful triumph relaxed in their speed; the ladies recovered from their fears, and one by one crept into their berths. We had here no such heroine as she who is going the rounds in the newspapers, who in the excitement of the race, finding the wood failing, directed her smoked hams to be thrown on the fire.
Sixteen miles below Cincinnati is the residence of Gen. Harrison, the candidate for the Presidency. It is said he lived in a log cabin, but it was a neat country dwelling, which, however, I dimly saw by moonlight. To judge from what we have seen upon the road, Gen. H. will carry all the votes of the west, for every one seemed enthusiastic in his favor. Log cabins were erected in every town, and a small one of wickerwork stood upon nearly all the steamboats. At the woodyards along the rivers, it was very common to see a sign bearing the words, ‘Harrison wood’; ‘whig wood,’ or ‘Tippicanoe wood,’ he having gained a battle at a place of that name. The western States indeed, owe him a debt of gratitude, for he may be said to be the cause, under Providence, of their flourishing condition. He subdued the Indians, laid the land out in sections, thus opening a door for settlers, and in fact, deserves the name given him of ‘Father of the west.’
We have now passed another State, Indiana, along whose borders by the winding of the river, we have come three hundred and fifty miles from the Wabash river. It is a fertile State, like its surrounding sister States, having but little hilly ground, most of it being undulating prairie. It is crossed by several fine rivers; has the Ohio for its southern, and lake Michigan for its northern border. It is two hundred and seventy-five miles long and one hundred and forty-five broad, containing thirty-eight thousand square miles. Except the sand hills of lake Michigan, and swamps of the Kankakee, its soil is of inexhaustible fertility. Canals to the aggregate length of two hundred and thirty miles have been completed, or are in a state of forwardness, and ninety-five of railroads. Indianapolis is the capitol, situated in Marion county, upon the White river, and in the centre of the State. This county is a very fertile one, having raised the last year, according to the marshal’s report, nine hundred thousand bushels of corn; sixty-seven thousand bushels of oats; thirty thousand bushels of wheat, and twenty thousand head of hogs. Indianapolis is only twenty years old, having been, upon its site, a dense forest in 1820; now it has several public buildings, churches, schools, court-house, etc., and two thousand inhabitants. The amount of tolls taken upon the canals and railroads of Indiana amount to twenty-eight thousand five hundred dollars. Salt of a very fine kind is made in Fountain county. Its population is six hundred and eighty-three thousand three hundred and fourteen. At two o’clock at night we arrived at Cincinnati, and took up our position at the end of a long line of steamers, where we tried to sleep until morning.
LETTER X.
Cincinnati, July 19th.
My dear E.—As much as we had heard of Cincinnati, we were astonished at its beauty and extent, and of the solidity of its buildings. It well merits the name bestowed upon it here,—Queen of the west. We have explored it thoroughly by riding and walking, and pronounce it a wonderful city. The hotel to which we were recommended, the Broadway House, was commodious and well conducted. The family is a very agreeable one, and well educated, but remain in their own private apartments. There are numerous other hotels of all descriptions, but none rival it, unless it may be the new one called the Henri House. Soon after breakfast we ordered a carriage, which we found to be quite as handsome as any we have in our city. We spent the morning slowly driving up and down each street, along the Miami canal, and in the environs of the city in every direction, and were quite astonished—not because we had never seen larger and finer cities, but that this should have arisen in what was so lately a wilderness. Its date, you know, is only thirty years back. The rows of stores and ware-houses; the extensive and ornamented private dwellings; the thirty churches, many of them very handsome, and other public buildings, excited our surprise. Main street is the principal business mart. While in the centre of this street, we mark it for a mile ascending the slope upon which the town is built, and in front it seems interminable, for the river being low, we do not observe we are looking across it to the street of the opposite city of Covington, until a steamboat passing, tells us where the city ends. Broadway is another main artery of this city; not, however, devoted to business, but bounded upon each side by rows of handsome dwellings. Third, Fourth, Seventh, Vine, and many other streets, show private houses not surpassed by any city we had visited. They are generally extensive, and surrounded by gardens, and almost concealed from view of the passers, by groves of shade trees and ornamental shrubbery. An accidental opening among the trees shows you a glimpse of a piazza or pavillion, where, among groves and gardens, the air may be enjoyed by the children or ladies of the family.
We visited a museum in hopes of seeing some Indian relics or organic remains, but found these curiosities had met with the fate of all things in America, destruction by fire. The owner of the museum had been nineteen years collecting it, and it contained, among other things, bones of mastodon, and mummies, taken from a cave in Kentucky. The last, we were informed by the wife of the proprietor, were in a sitting posture, wrapped in mantles, one having red hair, the other black. She was now doing her best to collect another museum. Their house is a very nice one, having three tiers of rooms, and is rented to them for one thousand dollars. ‘How did the fire originate?’ I asked of the lady of the museum. ‘Why, ma’am,’ said she, ‘you must know the cellar of this house, unbeknown to me, was let out to a yellow barber, who had some powder for sale which blew up to our garret one day, and set it on fire. I heard the explosion, but thought it one of the steamboats at the wharf——’ ‘Pardon me madam,’ I said, ‘but pray how many times a week do your steamboats blow up?’ ‘Why, I can’t exactly tell——’ ‘Oh, well; go on with your story.’ ‘That day I came into this room before it was burnt, and says, George, says I, to the man who is now playing on the organ just as he was then, George, what is that which smells so much like burnt paint? Why, missus, says he, it is the back of this yere bench which was almost a coal afore I put it out. Why, George, says I, how did that happen? Why, the yaller barber’s stove-pipe was so hot, says he, it sot it afire. I ran to the bench and found it had been, sure enough, burnt, and the wall felt quite hot. George, what is that crackling noise, says I. Why it’s the yaller barber’s stove-pipe what’s a cooling, says he. But I smelt smoke, and I said to George, George, do run up stars and see if there aint any fire anyhow. He went, but soon came thumping down again, making as much noise as if he had been a great mastydone. George, says I, what’s the matter? Matter! why, gorry, massa missus! the roof’s burnt and fell on the garret floor, and the garret floor’s afire and fell on the third story floor—— Pshaw, George, you’re poking fun at me; but just then up runs my husband as wild as a prairie wolf. Wife! Good God! the roof is all afire! he cried and ran up stairs; when, just as he reached the second flight, the third floor fell down upon him, and he was enveloped in flames. He was dug out, and you may be sure he was a show; burnt to a mummy; his hat looking a bit of coke; his dress hanging in scorched tatters, and blind with smoke, he staggered about like a drunken nigger. He was six weeks before he recovered from that burning.’ ‘Indeed; this fire has cost you much suffering.’ ‘I have not told you all. There is a young girl, a distant relation living with me, to whom I am much attached; she was up stairs, heard a noise, saw the fire, and went to run down stairs, when behold the stairs was away—burnt and fell down. She ran about like a wild Injun, trying to escape, but could not, and at last sank down at the place where the stairs had been, and expected to die. Just at that moment, as if sent by Providence, some men from a flat boat ran up to help us. ‘Why, mother, you’re in a bad fix anyhow,’ said one; ‘what is your greatest treasure here, and we will try to save that first.’ My greatest treasure, I said, is a young girl, whom I dearly love, who is up stairs; but I am afraid you cannot save her. He ran along and looked up, when, just then, in a fit of despair, she flung herself down, thinking she might as well die so, as she must die up stairs anyhow, and he being just under caught her. She was very much bruised, and her head is still much affected with heat and wounds.’ I truly sympathized with the unfortunate dillitante, as the loss of a museum which one has been collecting twenty years is a serious evil. I think it behooves the citizens of Cincinnati to encourage her endeavors to gather a new collection, by patronizing her museum. From the upper balcony is a very beautiful view of the opposite shores of Kentucky. The two towns of Covington and Newport line the bank with numerous buildings, some of them very pretty; while behind them arise a range of picturesque hills, covered with luxuriant herbage. These two towns are separated by the river Licking, whose bright waters, after flowing for two hundred miles through the fair plains of Kentucky, enter the Ohio opposite Cincinnati. Beneath us we looked down upon the wharf, which was a scene of mixed gaiety and business. A row of steamboats lay along the shore, from and to which flowed a constant current of men and goods. From some of the largest, the music of the band which they always carry sounded merrily, while broad, bright flags floated out upon the summer breeze.