Fort Adams or Wilkinsonburg is a poor little village of a dozen houses, most of them in decay, hemmed in between the heights and the river. The fort from whence it derives its first name, is situated on a bluff overhanging the river, at the extremity of the ridge of Loftus’s heights. It is about one hundred feet above the ordinary level of the Mississippi, which is not more than three hundred yards wide here, so that the fort completely commands it, with several small brass cannon and two small brass howitzers mounted “en barbette.” The fort which is faced with brick, has only a level superficies large enough for one bastion, with a small barrack inside, the {301} whole of which is commanded by a block-house a hundred and fifty feet higher, on the sharp peak of a very steep hill, which in time of war might serve as a look out, as well as a post, as it commands a most extensive view over the surrounding wilderness of forest, as well as the meanders of the river for several miles.
The ridge of hills near Natchez, bounds the prospect to the northward, but there is nothing for the eye to rest on, not even a plantation to be seen, as they are all veiled by the surrounding forests, the gloom of which is heightened by the idea, that a principal portion of the vast tract in sight, is nothing but an unwholesome swamp, which will cost thousands of lives before it can ever be made habitable, or fit for cultivation. This is experienced in a great degree at Fort Adams, which on account of its insalubrity, is deserted by its garrison, a subaltern with a platoon being left in it, to guard the pass, and prevent smuggling—while the garrison inhabits a pleasant cantonment in the hills towards Pinckneyville, about five miles distant. A path descends gradually from the block-house to the town, along a very narrow ridge, about the middle of which is the burying place of the garrison, the graves of the officers being conspicuous by head stones with the name, rank, and time of decease. Two or three are interred here who have been shot in duels, to which barbarous custom they are much addicted in the American army.
There are two gun boats moored a little above the fort, which, with the long view up the river, and the flat country on the opposite bank put me in mind of the river Shannon at Tarbet in Ireland; to which however it is far inferiour in breadth as well as in magnificence, and variety of scenery. The unhealthiness of its scite is probably the reason that {302} Wilkinsonburg does not prosper, notwithstanding it is the capital of a county, and is a post town.
I put up at Marsalis’s tavern, where my old and esteemed friend, doctor H——, lodged. I found him confined by a severe attack of the dysentery, which however did not prevent his giving me a cordial and a joyous welcome. Notwithstanding the poverty of the place, Marsalis gave us a tolerably good supper, according to the custom of the country, of coffee, bread and butter, sliced bacon, and a fine dish of gaspar-goo, the best fish I had yet tasted of the produce of the Mississippi.
Saturday, 27th—My horse being foundered, doctor H—— accommodated me with another very good one, and after breakfast I proceeded on a good road to the south-eastward, over the most broken and hilly country I had yet seen in the territory, it leading sometimes along the brink of some high and steep precipices, but is kept in good order by the troops encamped in the neighbourhood. At four miles I kept to the left towards Pinckneyville, instead of turning to the right to the camp, at a mile’s distance, as I intended to visit it on my return. I passed two small plantations near the forks of the road, they being the only ones between Wilkinsonburg and Mr. Carey’s, which was three miles farther, the country becoming gradually less broken.
Mr. Carey, to whom I had a letter from H——, received me with cordial hospitality, but there was nothing strange in that, he being a native of Erin, that country so noted for this now unfashionable virtue.[212]
{303} After dinner I went half a mile farther to Capt. Robert Semple’s, brother to my friend Steele Semple, Esq. of Pittsburgh. He was formerly a captain in the United States’ army, and is now owner of a very fine plantation, where he resides, living in a style of well regulated, gentlemanly taste and liberality.—From him and his amiable lady I experienced a most friendly reception, and remaining with them until next morning (Sunday, 28th) I proceeded on my route, going back to Mr. Carey’s. Keeping his plantation on the left, two miles S. S. E. brought me to Pinckneyville. On arriving at Mr. Carey’s yesterday, I had got out of the broken hilly country, and I was now in one of alternate plains and gently sloping hills affording fine situations for plantations, mostly occupied.
Pinckneyville is a straggling village of ten houses, mostly in decay, and some of them uninhabited. It is situated on a pleasant sloping plain, and the surrounding country is comparatively well cultivated. It has a little church, a tavern, a store and a post-office.
FOOTNOTES:
[210] Colonel Anthony Hutchins, of New Jersey, joined the Sixtieth Infantry and served under General Amherst in the French and Indian War. Retired on half-pay, he settled first in North Carolina, then removed to Natchez in 1772, forming a plantation twelve miles therefrom, at White Apple village. During the Revolution he was a persistent Tory, and headed the party which recaptured Fort Panmure in 1782. Upon the advance of the Spaniards, Hutchins escaped through the woods to Savannah, going thence to London. He was only permitted to return after several years of exile. Upon the installation of American government, Hutchins promptly took the oath of allegiance, dying shortly after (1804) at an advanced age.—Ed.