We put up, in Vincennes, at Clarke's Hotel, where the stages start from; and I intended to proceed on my journey the following day, but the landlord and postmaster declared, rather laconically, that I must wait for the next opportunity, because our baggage was too heavy. This caused a delay of two days, which I endeavoured, in Mr. Lesueur's company, to turn to the best {481} account. Mr. Badolet, of Geneva, who has long resided at this place, and is thoroughly acquainted with the country, was unfortunately indisposed.[138] He takes much interest in the promotion of knowledge, and through his instrumentality a library has been formed, which, though still in its infancy, consists of about 1500 volumes. New books are added every year, and there are already some valuable works. Mr. Badolet likewise purchased the well preserved lower jaw of a mastodon, which was found in the White River. Mr. Lesueur made a drawing of this jawbone, which is deposited in the library. Another interesting character lives here, but forgotten, neglected, and in great poverty—I mean Colonel Vigo, who rendered important services to the Americans at the capture of Vincennes. They, indeed, gave him the rank of colonel, but suffer him to starve.[139]
In our excursions in the vicinity of this place we found many interesting plants. Mr. Bodmer took a view of Vincennes from the top of Warrior's Hill; while Mr. Lesueur visited the Indian barrows, of which there are several in the plain, and which the French settlers call mamelon.[140] One of these hills was examined on a former occasion, and an excavation made through a wolf's den on one side of it, but nothing was taken from it but white clay; without doubt the examination must have been superficial.
On the 13th of June we parted from our friend, Mr. Lesueur, and left Vincennes by the stage. We first passed through a tract of alternate meadows and thickets, and then, for a couple of miles, through the unbroken forests which characterize Indiana. After proceeding thirteen miles we came to a solitary post-house in the wood, where breakfast was ready, and of which we partook while they were changing horses. We then crossed in a ferry, an arm of White River, which runs between picturesque wooded banks. The roads were bad; decayed trunks of trees were constantly in the way; the ground broken and uneven; and our stage, drawn by four very spirited horses, sustained many a violent jolt. We came to Washington and Mount Pleasant,[141] where the farmers were cultivating their fields, in which isolated trees were frequently seen, but which afforded no shade from the sultry sun, for they were all destroyed by the fire. They are cut down, from time to time, when the people are in want of timber; and, as a sign that they are to be felled in the next winter, a circular ring is hewn into the bark. It is said to be very difficult to cultivate the land in Indiana, on account of the extremely vigorous vegetation. Except in the vicinity of the Wabash and the White River, it is, however, not so fertile as in Illinois, where, in the environs of Springfield, for instance, it is scarcely necessary to do more than hoe the ground, in order to obtain the finest crops. An acre of land there yields from sixty to eighty bushels of maize, and fifty bushels of wheat. The effects of the frost were everywhere visible on the trees: it had caused much damage, and killed all the fruit for this year. The fruits of the field were about as forward as they would be on the Rhine at this season. In the plantations there were great numbers of oxen, horses, sheep, and swine, the former of which were particularly large and handsome. At Mount Pleasant we {482} found in the inn a good many books lying about; among them were some geographical works. From this place we descended an eminence to the bank of the second arm of the White River, which flows through fine forests. The water was transparent, and the banks steep. Being set over with a ferry, we came to a tall, gloomy forest, consisting almost wholly of large beech trees, which afforded a most refreshing shade. The forest continued without intermission, but the beeches were soon succeeded by other species of trees indigenous to this country. We passed the most elevated part of the road through the picturesque forest scenes, where the lofty crowns of the trees shut out the sky from our view. They were the most splendid forests I had yet seen in North America. In the evening we stopped, twenty-three miles from Mount Pleasant, at a capital inn, called Horsit, surrounded with farm buildings in good condition. We were quite astonished at meeting, in this lone, wild, sequestered spot, with such a respectable house and table; everything was particularly neat and comfortable. Early on the morning of the 14th we set out again. About six miles further on, is the little town of Paoli, in a calcareous spot, where pieces of limestone everywhere stand out. We then proceeded by the side of Litcreek, some miles from whence the stage stopped, and the passengers breakfasted at the house of Chambers, a Quaker.[142] We were told that this part of the country is very salubrious, and the air extremely pure, but it takes strangers some time to get accustomed to the water, which is impregnated with lime. We saw numbers of horses in the forest, but the breed is not so good in Indiana as in other states. At Greenville, a small village, was a large concourse of the neighbouring farmers, whose horses and vehicles were tied to the fences. They had come to take part in the election of some magistrate. The heat was excessive, and the dust very troublesome. Several parties of farmers were in the public-houses, where a rude, noisy crowd were drinking whisky and playing at various games. We soon reached the summit of the calcareous chain of hills, which we had ascended gradually and imperceptibly, and approached the southern declivity, where an extensive and magnificent prospect opened before us. The wide valley, or, rather, the vast plain of the Ohio, suddenly unfolds itself to the eye of the astonished traveller. As far as the eye can reach, a dense, uninterrupted forest covers the country, and the beauteous river, like a streak of silver, meanders through the landscape. In the distance lie the red masses of the houses of the towns of Louisville and New Albany, which extend on both sides of the Ohio. We soon passed the slope of the chain, and drove rapidly through a highly cultivated country to New Albany, on the banks of the river.[143]
I did not stop at New Albany, where there had lately been several cases of cholera, but proceeded to Louisville, where we soon arrived, and embarked the same evening, on board the Paul Jones steamer. In this town, too, there had been some cases of cholera, but the people did not seem to be afraid of that disorder. After proceeding about thirty miles up the Ohio, some accident happened to our engine, and we were obliged to lay-to. On the following day, the 15th, the {483} forests of the Ohio appeared in the luxuriant verdure of the varied foliage of their lofty trees, among which the colossal planes were especially conspicuous. Near Kentucky River our engine again broke; it was, however, repaired, during the night, at Vevay.[144]
On the 16th we reached Rising Sun, saw Petersburg and Aurora, where the United States mail steam-boat, the Franklin, passed rapidly by us, then came to Lawrenceburg, and arrived about noon at Cincinnati.[145]
Cincinnati is a considerable town, and carries on an extensive trade, and is frequented by numerous steam-boats, of which a considerable number were now lying on the banks of the Ohio. Many travellers have already described everything worthy of notice in this town, and I will, therefore, only mention some establishments connected with natural history, which we were now able to visit at our leisure, as we were no longer apprehensive of the cholera. The Western Museum, belonging to Mr. Dorfeuille, which Mrs. Trollope has described, is the only one worthy of notice. I observed several interesting articles, though all American establishments of this kind are calculated, not for the advantage of science, but for pecuniary gain. This museum is lighted up every evening at eight o'clock, and an indifferent concert is performed, chiefly by Germans. In one of the rooms was a small fountain, round which the visitors sat upon benches, gazing at it with astonishment. The owner has a taste for the sciences, and would pay greater attention to them, if he met with more encouragement to do so; but his museum did not attract many visitors till he introduced, in the upper rooms, an absurd representation of hell. Grottoes, in which a number of frightful skeletons are moving about, and among whom the devil acts a principal part; these, and other hideous scenes, attract the vulgar multitude, and bring considerable profit. Mr. Dorfeuille has, however, several interesting specimens, such as petrifactions, fossil impressions, Indian antiquities, Mexican curiosities, and some fragments of parchment with hieroglyphics painted on them; the best of which, however, was at this time in the hands of Mr. Bullock, an Englishman, who resides some miles from hence, and which I therefore did not see.[146]
On examining the booksellers' shops, I found only some elegantly bound works on the belles lettres, a few on the statistics of different countries, but none relating to natural history, nor any portraits or history of the too much neglected Indian nations. I there formed several valuable acquaintances, among others, Dr. Daniel Drake, who is well known as an author, and whose work, "The Picture of Cincinnati," and other essays, prove that he has not neglected the study of nature.[147] I met with many old acquaintances, among others, Mr. Richard Owen, of New Harmony;[148] and in all my excursions saw great numbers of Germans, of whom it is estimated that 10,000 reside here. German is everywhere spoken. German peasants arrived continually, and traversed the streets, but most of them are of the lowest and most uneducated class, and are not calculated to give the Americans a favourable impression of our nation.
Instead of going immediately into the country, and hiring themselves to the farmers, in order to learn the nature of the agriculture {484} of this country, they loiter about the town, where they fall into the hands of abandoned countrymen of their own, squander the little property they have brought with them, and are then despised by the inhabitants. At present, however, there are many respectable and intelligent Germans here, who have already contributed to give the Americans a more favourable opinion of our people. Some of these estimable men have conceived the laudable plan of establishing a society for the protection and settlement of their countrymen, which will certainly prove highly useful.