Upon my arrival at New-Orleans, and in looking back upon my course, I could not but be forcibly impressed with the wonderful wealth and physical force of the United States. In comparing the present situation of the country with what it was when first discovered by Europeans, the mind is astonished; and in dwelling upon its probable increase, in the course of one hundred years, numbers fail, and calculation becomes alarmed. Here too, the hand of Providence is visible in the discovery and settlement of the country; in the protection of the infant colonies of our forefathers, and in the great events of our history to the present time. With reference to these ideas, the thoughts of the Psalmist interestingly apply:—“Unto thee will I give the land of Canaan, the lot of your inheritance.” And again: “When there were but a few men in number, yea, very few, and strangers in it; He suffered no man to do them wrong!—He reproved kings for their sakes.”
Any comparison, which I may make between the country situated on the Mississippi, and the New-England States, will, perhaps, be partial. That I prefer the latter, in every point of view, will be readily accounted for. It may appear strange, however, that my principal objection to the former, is the productive capacity of its soil. Both in a moral and political point of view, this is a serious evil. Industry is indispensable to the health of the mental and physical nature of man; and also to the preservation of his virtue. On the Mississippi, plenty may be obtained by a very small degree of labour. An additional exertion produces wealth; and indolence, luxury, and dissipation are, in this [242] part of the United States, its general consequences. This is too, in a measure, the case with all the western country. There are many other objections; but they are too numerous to mention. The country on the Mississippi is not a grazing country. The hills of New-England feed, on the contrary, the finest cattle, furnish the most delightful prospects, and produce the hardiest plants of freedom. New-England too, is a peculiarly happy country with respect to religion, morals, education, and health. Here industry gives a zest to the ordinary enjoyments of life, strengthens the mind for the acquisition of knowledge, prepares the heart for the defence of principle, and nerves the physical man for the maintenance of national right.
I might now consider my pedestrious tour as finished; but it may not be amiss to continue my narrative to the time of my arrival in New-Hampshire. As this, however, will be rather an unproductive field, I must introduce, in my course, some brief reflections upon foreign topics.
About the first of July I sailed from New-Orleans for Boston. The course of a vessel from and to these places is circuitous, and nearly as long as that of a voyage across the Atlantic. The distance is about 2,500 miles.
Having hauled off from the Levee into the current, we beat down the river with a light breeze; at length took in our top-gallant-sails, moved briskly about thirty miles, and moored along the bank for the night. I had previously been below the city, about seven leagues, for the purpose of visiting General Wilkinson. In the General’s library I met with many rare and interesting works. During this excursion I viewed the celebrated battle ground, five miles below New-Orleans.[[201]] The Americans were fortified, having a marsh in front, the river on [243] the right, an impervious wood on the left, and the resources of the city in the rear:—an admirable position! The enemy displayed the most desperate courage in attacking the Americans thus situated. British glory never shone brighter than upon this occasion; and British troops never experienced a greater overthrow.
Below New-Orleans snakes, lizards, and alligators are numerous; and the bees and grasshoppers are very large. Here one almost supposes himself in the West-Indies. Cotton does not flourish well so low down as General Wilkinson’s plantation; but sugar cane is here remarkably productive. The craw-fish, which naturalists say is a fresh water lobster, here passes under the banks of the Mississippi to a considerable distance, and comes up through the earth into the fields. This circumstance proves that the land in this part of the country is afloat, and also that this species of animated nature is amphibious. It is exceedingly interesting to notice the economy of nature in her transitions from the vegetable to the animal world; and in some measure, from the mere animal to human existence. With respect to the former we may inquire whether the oyster and sponge are animals or vegetables? The oyster is rooted to the earth like a plant, and yet it feeds upon animals. The dexterity which it displays in closing its shells upon those worms, which are so unfortunate as to creep into them, is worthy of remark. There are two amphibious plants as well as amphibious animals. The flag is considered an aquatic; but it flourishes best between land and water. An amphibious fish, such as the craw-fish appears to be, is a new link in the chain of existences.
About eighteen miles below New-Orleans is the English Turn.[[202]] This is a bend in the river, which [244] is thus called, because the English ships, in their first attempt upon the city, were obliged to return. Twenty-five miles below the Turn is Fort Plaquemine.[[203]] This fort is on the left side of the river, and makes a very elegant appearance. Not far from this place, the country immediately becomes very low; trees soon disappear; and the river flows over both its banks, watering immense marshes, covered with flags and high grass.
Two days after leaving New-Orleans for the eastward, we passed the above mentioned fort, and towards evening, anchored near the shore. Here the prospect from the top gallant-masts of the vessel was gloomy. In the course of the evening, a black and ragged little schooner floated by us; and she proved to be the vessel, from the fore-yard of which the Indian Chief Hemattlemico, and the Indian Prophet Francis were hung, by order of General Jackson.[[204]]—
“Oh! what doth that vessel of darkness bear!
The silent calm of the grave is there:—