Buttrick's voyages, 1812-1819; Evans's Pedestrious tour, 1818

by Tilly Buttrick; Estwick Evans

Early in March I experienced a long storm of rain. My garments, after a while, became wet; which circumstance rendered my situation uncomfortable. I travelled, during the whole of the storm, in the belief that continual motion was necessary to preserve my health. No one can take cold in the worst of weather, during an active arterial circulation. It is in a sudden check of this impetus, that severe colds are experienced, and diseases contracted.

Having passed several small rivers, besides the Grand and Cayahoga, I arrived, on the 4th of March, at Rocky River. The weather was still rather [89] moderate, and thinking it would be dangerous to cross this stream upon the ice, I passed along its southerly side and went upon the Lake. This course was fortunate, inasmuch as it placed me in a very interesting situation. It was late in the afternoon when I reached the Lake; and it was my intention to travel upon it until the evening, and then pass into the woods. Soon after leaving the river, however, I found the banks of the Lake very high and steep. I pushed on. This tremendous ridge of perpendicular rock proved to be several miles in length. I was not aware, that it was the celebrated scene of storms, shipwrecks, and savage offerings. Night approached. The prospects around me were sublime. I was upon a glare of ice. Upon one side was a congealed ocean, apparently unlimited, and on the other a gloomy bank fifty feet in height, entirely perpendicular, and pending from which were huge icicles.—I speak within bounds: they were twenty feet in length, and as large as a hogshead. The severity of the weather had been unparalleled. It had rained,—it had frozen. The night was dark. To ascend the banks was impossible:—they seemed to be the everlasting battlements of nature! The weather was still moderating; the ice of the Lake cracking in every direction, and producing a noise like distant thunder. The solitude of my situation was profound. I was in the midst of a world, and it appeared to have been made but for one man. I walked with caution, hoping yet to meet a ravine in the banks. At length I heard, at a little distance, a sullen stream pouring its scanty waters into the hollow Lake. I paused,—was bewildered,—was lost. The stars presented a gloomy aspect, and shed an ineffectual light. My situation was truly enviable!—There is a charm in desolation; and in the season of danger, the human [90] soul triumphs in the conviction of its own indestructibility.

After being apprised of the existence of the stream, I, with much caution, moved upon my hands and knees towards the shore, presuming that there was a valley through which the stream entered the Lake, and by which I might reach the summit of the bank. I soon affected this object, and entered the wood. I did not, however, sleep much: my imagination had become active, and I passed most of the night in weaving the web of fancy.

The adventure of the preceding evening was calculated to call forth much enthusiasm. This, I know, is a term which alarms the ear of dullness; but the indulgence of this native quality of the heart is not inconsistent with the due influence of the understanding. What is it but an admiration of those principles of mind, and those views of nature, which may be traced to that Being in whom is the perfection of every great and good attribute? Upon a vicious, or mean object it never looks but with the eye of compassion and sorrow. I may be permitted to enlarge a little upon this subject.

Enthusiasm is the reverse of mental and moral insensibility. In the home of the heart it trims the lamp of intellect, and pants after true greatness. In mind it perceives perennial existence, and in matter only the temporary and humble dwelling place of its discipline. Immortality is the holy land of its aspirations, and disinterestedness the altar of its sacrifices. In self controul it displays its power, and the obedience of the passions is the trophy of its victories. All Nature is the temple of its worship, and in the inspiration of its hopes it finds the source of its humility. During the convulsions of the physical world, it sits in the composure of faith, and in the awe of admiration. In religion it dwells with [91] humble rapture upon the Star of Bethlehem, and gratefully acknowledges the spirit of grace. In philanthropy it sees in every man a brother, and loves to do him good. In patriotism it views, in the tombs of ancestors, the sanctity of home; and in the protection of innocence, it courts a bloody sacrifice. In love too, its happiness is productive of piety, and the tenderness of its sentiments is equalled only by the purity of its motives.

The day after leaving the Lake the weather was cold and windy. After travelling some miles in a south-westerly direction, I entered a beautiful and solitary wood. It had more the appearance of an improved forest than of a wilderness. In this wood I sat down to make some remarks in my journal. I generally stopped two or three times a day for this purpose;—sometimes sitting on a stump, sometimes under a tree, and sometimes by the side of huge masses of ice near the shores of the Lake. A record of passing scenes and events should immediately be made by the traveller. By delay, their impressions upon his mind become less legible, and then art must supply, in some measure, the place of nature.

The rain storm, and the moderate weather of which I have spoken, covered many places in this part of the country with water to the depth of several feet. Here low grounds and prairies made their appearance, and wading over them, through snow, and water, and ice, was both laborious and painful.

The weather having again become cold, the surface of the snow congealed to a hard crust, so that my moccasons and socks became completely worn through, and my feet much swollen. I deemed it advisable, as the remains of my moccasons and socks were no security to my feet, and at the same [92] time retarded my progress, to throw them aside and travel barefooted. From this mode of travelling I found no serious inconvenience. At length, however, my feet swelled to an alarming size; but believing that rest alone would remove the evil, and not being willing to afford myself much, I concluded to abandon them to that possible remedy, which is incident to the crisis of disease and the influence of habit. I now travelled with even more industry than before; and in the course of a few days the swelling was entirely reduced: this experiment, however, was not very pleasant; especially, after a few hours rest.

I am confident that people, who are exposed to want both of food and clothing, and also to pain, suffer much less than is imagined; and particularly so if their minds are engaged in any interesting undertaking. Man may, by habit, render almost any situation tolerable; and I agree with Seneca, that if our sufferings are not very great we can bear them with firmness; and if they are very great we shall soon be relieved from them by death. During at least one half of the time employed in performing my tour from New-Hampshire to Detroit, I was afflicted by the tooth-ache; but notwithstanding this circumstance, and also the toils and privations which I experienced, I do not remember a moment, during this period, in which I did not possess a balance of pleasure. The solitude which surrounded me, the novelty of my situation, and the interesting prospects which frequently presented themselves, often rendered me very happy.

In the course of a day or two after adopting my new mode of travelling, I was so fortunate as to meet with several Indians, and of them I purchased a pair of deerskin shoes. Indian women often accompany the men in their hunting expeditions; and [93] one may frequently see them in the woods employed in dressing Deer and Elk skins, and in making shoes of them. They use the sinews of animals and the fibres of the inner bark of trees instead of thread.