George Poindexter, one of the most able of Mississippi politicians, was regarded by his enemies as one of the most unscrupulous. A native of Virginia, he came to Mississippi in 1802. His first public office was that of attorney-general for the territory, as such conducting the prosecution of Aaron Burr. Having killed Abijah Hunt, a political enemy, in a duel, he was nevertheless exonerated by being chosen one of the territorial judges, which office he conducted with fairness and ability. In the War of 1812-15, he served as aide to Jackson at New Orleans, and became one of the general’s warm partisans, defending him in Congress in 1819. Poindexter was a member of the Mississippi Constitutional Convention of 1817, and the first representative in Congress for the new state (1818-20). Upon his return home, he was elected governor of the State after a campaign of great personal bitterness, but was defeated in an attempt to secure a second term. In 1830, Poindexter again entered politics, being chosen United States senator, in which position he attacked Jackson with as much spirit as he had formerly defended him. Jackson even accused Poindexter of having instigated an attempt upon his life, but afterwards was convinced of his error. Poindexter retired from public life in 1835, but for twenty years longer continued a career of dissipation and excess.—Ed.
CHAPTER LI
An Indian monument—Col. Hutchins—Second creek—The Homochito—Buffaloe creek—Long uninhabited wilderness—Remark on overseers—Wilkinsonburg and Fort Adams—An old friend—Mr. Carey’s—Capt. Semple’s—Pinckneyville.
Leaving Mr. Green’s, I soon after past Mrs. Hutchins’s on the left, in whose cotton field, at some distance from the road I observed an Indian mound or barrow, similar to those which one so often meets with in the vicinity of the Ohio, and of which I have been informed great numbers are in this country. Mrs. Hutchins is the widow of a col. Hutchins, who was a half-pay British officer, had considerable landed property, was very hospitable, and had great influence in the political business of the territory, which by the manner he used it, acquired him the character of an ambitious monarchist.[210]
This and all the neighbouring plantations are called the Second creek settlement from a rivulet of that name which flows from the eastward towards the Mississippi. The soil is much superiour to that near Natchez, and the farms are generally the best improved in the territory. I observed a very handsome coach under a shed near Mrs. Hutchins’s cottage, which was the only one I had seen in this country.
The road led from hence southerly through pleasant open woods, with very few plantations in sight, {299} eight miles, to Greaton’s tavern on the right bank of the Homochito. After putting up my horse, I joined Mr. Greaton in fishing, he providing me with a rod and line—I was unsuccessful, but he caught some delicate cat-fish, and four fine carp, about a pound and a half each. A thunder shower interrupting our sport, we returned to the house, supped on our fish, coffee, and bread and butter, and retired for the night.
The Homochito is a beautiful little river of clear water, and a sandy bottom, here about fifty yards wide. It falls into the Mississippi ten or twelve miles from hence, on its banks ten miles higher up, is a fine thriving settlement, called the Jersey settlement, from the inhabitants having generally emigrated from that state; and 10 miles still higher or more north easterly, the lake road from Orleans to Natchez crosses it.
Friday 26th, I was ferried across the Homochito by an old Spaniard, in a flat which he hauled over by a rope leading through two rollers fixed on the gunwale. I found the country hilly, but the road was pleasant, and the soil rich, though thinly inhabited. I had eight miles to Mrs. Crosby’s, a remarkably fat widow, who keeps a tavern and receives the toll of a bridge over Buffaloe creek, which is a deep, slow and muddy little river, joining the Mississippi, six or seven miles from hence, through a long and extensive swamp. My fat landlady made breakfast for me, while my horse was feeding, after which I pursued my way to the left of the swamp, mounting into a hilly country, covered with a thick cane brake, through which a wagon road is cut in a S. W. direction eleven miles, without settlement, house or water, in all that distance, so that it is both fatiguing and dreary.
I emerged from the hills and canes over a small creek, at a fine plantation of a Mr. Percy. My horse being fatigued, I stopped to request a little {300} fodder for him, which was accorded with a very ill grace by the overseer, the proprietor residing at Washington. And here I will remark that the overseers of plantations in this whole territory, are for the most part a rough, unpolished, uncouth class of people, which perhaps proceeds from their being made use of literally as negro drivers, to keep those unfortunate wretches to their work in the field, and to correct them for all real or supposed offences.—They do this with their own hands, and not as in the sugar colonies, by one of the slaves themselves, appointed for that purpose and called the driver. This renders them callous to every thing like sentiment or feeling, and gives them a roughness and abruptness in their manners, which is extremely disagreeable and disgusting.
A good road with a ridge of hills called Loftus’s heights on the left, and the swamp which commenced at Buffaloe creek on the right, leads from hence to Fort Adams in a distance of six miles, there being a few plantations on both sides of the road, those on the right joining the swamp, and the left hand ones being on the broken land beyond the cliffs and hills.[211]