We to-day made a short stop at a place which bears the name of Western Philadelphia. There were some half dozen buildings, and two stores. It is only about nine months since the settlement commenced. Chestnut and Market streets were pointed out to us. Their course was through a flourishing cornfield, the stalks of which were so luxuriant and lofty, that we in vain essayed to reach their tops with our hands.
There are more signs of cultivation visible, as we passed along, on the Missouri than on the Illinois side. The banks as we proceed up the stream, occasionally rise into high bluffs—especially in Illinois—towering aloft, not unlike the palisades on the Hudson. Frequently one rock is piled upon another to such an elevation, that the summit of the bluff juts over the river, as though it were ready to tumble down upon the heads of those who were passing along on the quiet stream beneath. This is particularly the case as we enter the lead country which commences some time before we reach St. Louis. These lofty towering bluffs that rise up so perpendicularly, projecting over the river, afford every convenience for forming natural shot towers. We saw several of these lofty cliffs that were thus used. A little box was erected upon the summit of the rock, where the molten lead was poured down through the mould, into a little tub on the shore beneath to receive the shot as they fell.
As we slowly wended our way up this mighty stream we found the shores adorned with flowers, and covered with cane-brake and thick underwood. We also saw the trees loaded with grape-vines—and many of them completely matted over with ivy, woodbine, and misletoe. The luxuriance of vegetation seemed so great, as not only to cover the earth, but to lift itself up suspended in the air.
We passed to-day St. Genevieve, a French village standing on a beautiful hill-side. The loveliest prospect stretched out before the town. We could from this point see the broad Mississippi in its magnificent course piercing the boundless forests of eternal verdure, and spreading out its watery surface upon which a hundred green islets seemed to float. The town itself, like all the French villages that we have seen on this river, appeared old and dilapidated, and quite destitute of every thing like improvement, or enterprise. I could not but contrast these French villages, in the midst of this rich luxuriant land, with their little Roman Catholic chapels, their low narrow houses, and abundant marks of poverty, with the neat, tidy, thriving villages of New England, which, although they rear their heads from a hard rocky soil, where industry has to be taxed to the utmost to obtain the means of subsistence, present—in their beautiful church edifices—their elegant public buildings, and well constructed private residences—marks of thrift, industry, and comfort, which cannot fail to gladden the heart of the traveller who passes through them. Such is the difference in their influences between Protestantism and Romanism.
Twelve miles before we reached St. Louis we passed Jefferson barracks, a military station on the Missouri shore, located on a beautiful swell of land.
Carondolet is another French village on the banks of the Mississippi, around which every thing appears ruinous and poverty stricken.
At length St. Louis rose to view, and we hailed the sight with no ordinary sensations, not only as it was to be our resting place for awhile, but as a point of exceeding interest in this vast western world.