Our landlord gave us the best the place afforded. But he was a wag, and had placed the sharpest-breasted turkey I had ever met with on the table. Standing at the head, he disarmed all complaint by saying: “Now, gentlemen, I wish to call your attention to this bird. He was kept for the races, and could outrun any turkey in all Wilmington.” A burst of laughter ensued, and all were delighted with the dinner. We proceeded from Wilmington to Waynesburg on the Neuse river, eighty miles, and were obliged to take stage over a corduroy road, the railway not being yet constructed within seventy miles of Abbeville.
Such a horrible jolting I had never experienced, except in the low grounds along the Bay of Quinte in Canada. Rails and logs were thrown across marshy soil with but little earth upon them, and from time to time one found himself with his hat over his eyes, striking the top of the stage. At three in the morning we found ourselves at the point where the railway was progressing. The little tavern had only one bed left. What was to be done? I had made application and secured it. We were all exhausted with the ride, and six passengers had equal claims for a portion.
The bed was taken off, placed upon the floor, and occupied by three. Two took the bed cords, with some of the covering, and I reconnoitred the house. I found a country doctor’s room with his pharmacy and some anatomical remains; as good luck would have it for once, his services had been required elsewhere, so the doctor’s room was occupied, and Morpheus’s subject lost sight of dry bones. Twenty miles by rail brought us to Weldon, and from thence to Petersburgh, Virginia, on the Appomatox river. Here I visited some friends whom I had formerly known at Tappahanock, on the Rappahannock river, when I first visited the Old Dominion.
The writer of these Letters, finding his health, which had improved from his last winter’s trip to Cuba, again suffering in a northern climate, left the cold weather behind him, and proceeded south, via Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Richmond, and thence to Charleston. He made the outside passage to Savannah by steamer, and thence proceeded by steamboats to Brunswick, in Georgia, passing through the Florida wilds to Tallahassee, at imminent risk from the Seminole Indians. From Tallahassee he proceeded to St. Joseph, and embarked for Mobile and New Orleans, which cities he had left the spring before. He revisited the island of Cuba during the winter, and returned in the spring to the Crescent City. He took steamer bound up the Red river to Natchitoches and Alexandria; returned and visited Natchez, Mississippi, a few days after the great tornado, which destroyed a large portion of the city under the hill, and did immense damage in the city on the bluff. Many lives were lost, and a fleet of flat-boats and steamers sunk. He then proceeded up the Mississippi to Memphis, Tennessee, and St. Louis, Missouri; from the latter place he embarked for Louisville, Kentucky, and Cincinnati. His next route was via Wheeling, Virginia, over the beautiful Cumberland pass of the Alleghany mountains to Hagerstown and Frederick, Maryland; thence to Baltimore; up to Philadelphia, and so home.
To avoid repetition, and inasmuch as the cities and countries of our Union are so generally known, and, not to tax the reader, he has avoided the recounting of the thousand incidents of travel which would require too much space in this limited work. Suffice it to say, he returned in improved health, with a superficial knowledge, at least, of the products and resources of our country.
1840.
VII.
A TRIP TO EUROPE.
Dec. 7, 1840.
I left by the British Queen, in bad health, on Tuesday, upon two days’ notice, as I had intended to go to Santa Cruz. The weather was cool but pleasant, until Friday, which was stormy; it continued blowing a gale until Sunday, which was very rough and boisterous. I was very sea-sick, and was afraid of raising blood. We had a cold, disagreeable passage, and were on the ocean three Sundays; we reached Southampton on the twenty-first of December. The ship arrived at London on the twenty-third. Our coal was exhausted, and we burned up all the spare wood we could find to carry us to Southampton.
I was rejoiced to get ashore in a comfortable English hotel, with kind and attentive servants. I left for London the following day, and was struck with the style of the English farm-houses and cottages—stacks of grain—thatched roofs—hedge fences—the straight furrows in ploughing—draining of lands—the old style of brick buildings with pot chimneys, and the dense smoke from the bituminous coal.