And the cedar grows, and the poisonous vine
Is spotted like the snake."—LONGFELLOW.
From St. Louis, on the Missouri river, I took passage to New Orleans, in one of those magnificent steamers that crowd the inland waters of the American continent, and which, sumptuously furnished as they are, have not inaptly been termed "floating palaces." We had a prosperous passage as far as the junction of the Ohio with the Mississippi, where the boat struck the branches of a large tree, that had been washed into the bed of the stream, and was there stuck fast, root downwards. This formidable chevaux-de-frise (or snag, as it was termed by the captain) fortunately did not do much damage to the vessel, although at first an alarm was raised that she was sinking, and much confusion ensued. This apprehension was, however, soon dissipated by the report of the carpenter, whose account of the damage was so far favourable, that after extrication by backing the vessel, and a few temporary repairs, she was again got under headway.
The pellucid waters of the Ohio, as they enter the turbid rushing current of the Mississippi, which is swollen by the Illinois and other tributaries, has a remarkable effect, the clear current of the former river refusing, for a considerable distance, to mingle with the murky stream of the latter, and forming a visible blue channel in its centre—a phenomenon I thought allegorical of the slave-stained condition of the one state, and the free soil of the other, for while Ohio is free from the curse of slavery, the banks of the Mississippi have for centuries been deep dyed in the life's blood of the oppressed African.
Our vessel was borne on the rushing waters with great impetuosity, the maddening current of the Mississippi seeming to carry everything before it. As we proceeded we constantly saw trees topple over into the river, the banks of which are continually widening, and which in many parts has the appearance of a lake after a storm, impregnated with debris. The trees, thus washed into the bed of the river, sink root downwards and make the navigation perilous, as I have before described. We met numerous steamers coming up the stream, one of them having a freight of Indians from Florida, removing to the western frontier, under the surveillance of U.S. soldiery and government agents. The compulsory removal of Indians, from one remote state to another, whenever new territory is needed, forms a disgraceful feature in internal American policy. Transported to new hunting grounds, the poor Indians are brought into contact with other tribes, when feuds arise from feelings of jealousy, and the new-comers are often annihilated in a few years. Many tribes have thus become totally extinct, and the remainder are rapidly becoming so. As the steamer passed us with her freight of red men they set up a loud yell, which reverberated through the forests on the river-shores. It sounded to me very much like defiance, and probably was, for they execrate the white men as hereditary enemies, and feel deeply the wrongs inflicted on their people.
All the steamers we met were more or less crowded with passengers, the visages of many of whom bore traces of fever and ague, and who were, doubtless, removing to a healthier climate. This insidious disease often terminates fatally in the cities and districts skirting the swamps of Louisiana, and, to avoid its baneful effects, the more affluent people migrate south-west or north when the sickly season sets in. The yellow fever is also very fatal in such situations, and annually claims numbers of victims.
We had by this time reached that latitude where perpetual summer reigns. The banks of the mighty Mississippi, which has for ages rolled on in increasing grandeur, present to the eye a wilderness of sombre scenery, indescribably wild and romantic. The bays, formed by the current, are choked with palmetto and other trees, and teem with alligators, water-snakes, and freshwater turtle, the former basking in the sun in conscious security. Overhead, pelicans, paroquets, and numberless other
"Strange bright birds on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things;"
while the gorgeous magnolia, in luxuriant bloom, and a thousand other evergreens, on shore, vie with voluptuous aquatic flowers to bewilder and delight the astonished traveller, accustomed hitherto only to the more unassuming productions of the sober north. Everything here was new, strange, and solemn. The gigantic trees, encircled by enormous vines, and heavily shrouded in grey funereal moss, mournfully waving in the breeze—the doleful night-cry of the death-bird and the whip-poor-will—the distant bugle of the advancing boats—the moan of the turbid current beneath—the silent and queenly moon above, appearing nearer, larger, and brighter than in our cooler latitudes—the sultry atmosphere—and most of all, perhaps, the sense of the near vicinity of death in this infected region—oppressed my spirit with an ominous feeling of solemnity and awe.