I did not learn the exact offence for which a deed of this nature was perpetrated with impunity at a recent period not many miles from this place, in the Prairie country, but the facts are as follows:—A party proposed to each other coolly to go and shoot neighbour ***** who had behaved ill to them at sundry times; it was agreed upon; they went to his field, found the old man at plough and with unerring aim laid him dead!—Mr. Flower himself related to me this atrocious affair, and I did not hear that any punishment was ever talked of. Such is the state of things in this western paradise! A beautiful garden indeed it is from the hands of nature, and with but a little industry a most desirable country to dwell in ... with a people who do not shoot each other: but for a man of orderly habits and civilized manners, to leave his every comfort, plunge into this wilderness, [96] and sit himself down among a set of half savages far more expert that he can be in every thing essential to such a life!—'tis a strange anomaly, and I think, "cannot come to good." The young, the enterprising, the man who seeks a fortune, may find a field for successful exertion—with great circumspection in undertakings, and great good luck in escaping bad notes and bad debts, large profits may accrue to industry; but let no one, who already may possess the comforts of life, seek fortune, freedom or bliss in this western speculation; for if he does, the chances are great that he will lose all.
Though the profits of trade here may be even more favourable than above stated, yet are there great risks, which ought to be taken into the contemplation of those who may be inclined, by these accounts, to the enterprise. Among the risks, one of the greatest arises from the not uncommon accident of boats sinking, as no care however great, will at all times prevent them from running upon hidden trunks of trees, when they almost to a certainty go down if heavy laden; and in such cases all the perishable part of the cargo is either lost or much damaged: a catastrophe not to be guarded against, as in Europe, by insurance; there not being at present any means of effecting it here. A more [97] safe speculation seems to be that of the builder, and as far as I could learn, equally profitable; the house in which I was, built of boards, and which was said to cost about two hundred and twenty-five pounds sterling, gains a rent of two hundred and fifty dollars clear of all deductions. There are I have little doubt, many other channels of profitable employment, and upon the whole it may be said, that this town offers a station for young men of prudence, spirit, and a little capital, where they may make a fortune; it is also a dry healthy delightful country. As to the morals and religion of the inhabitants, I cannot say that with respect to either they appear in a very favourable light, if one may judge from any outward observances of the latter, or conduct respecting the first, in affairs of business. Sunday is so little marked as a day of rest or religious duty that I believe no attention is paid to it, (except by the French catholics, who have a wooden chapel;) and a stranger, who should arrive on a Sunday, might well be led to conclude that it was a colony of Jews rather than of Christians, and that their sabbath had been kept the day before; tradesmen I saw carrying goods; farmers hauled their corn; and the water-mill went merrily round.
The price of labour is apparently high; a carpenter [98] or bricklayer receives two dollars and his board per day; but as competition increases I will not recommend the mechanic to rely upon getting such wages: and if he should, he must take notice that the high price he must pay for most articles of necessity, will bring his wages down nearer to a level with other places than he might at first suppose; to be sure, there is here less competition at present.
Having examined the town, and both ourselves and horses sufficiently rested, we made the necessary inquiries and preparations to proceed to the English Prairie in the Illinois State; from thence intending to visit the German Settlement called Harmony on the Wabash, and returning to winter at Vincennes. Receiving however, meanwhile, a pressing invitation to accompany a gentleman to his country house about twenty miles distant, it being represented as little deviating from our intended route, I accepted of it; the more inclined perhaps, because of his pleasing manners, and his being a native of the northern part of my own country. Having however a little apprehension as to the fitness of the roads we were going to pass over for wheels, I inquired of him whether they would permit a carriage to travel; and all my doubts were removed by his answer that "they were [99] as good as the town street," where we happened to be standing: we shall soon see how accurate his account turned out to be.
It was a beautiful day in the latter part of September, that we started on this expedition in my Dearborn; our friend on horseback leading the way. We drove along a good turf road across the fine plain of Vincennes, fully expecting to get on as smoothly and pleasantly as a gig party on a Sunday excursion along what are called the "green lanes," around our own metropolis;—we were not long suffered to enjoy these pleasing anticipations however, for our guide suddenly turned into the wood and the wheels came bump upon our old acquaintance a stump road.—While we are getting on slowly upon it, I will just give a slight description how such tracts are formed;—imagine a woodland in a state of nature: through this, guiding themselves by compass, people get on as they can, chopping a piece of bark from the trees in the line, which they call "blazing," as a direction to those who follow with tools to cut down the trees between those blazed, which they do at about a foot to a foot and a half from the ground, leaving the stumps and brushwood standing. In a short time this latter gets worn away, but the stumps remain a long while; and between these, horsemen, waggons, and other [100] carriages proceed, steering between, or bumping upon them, which is at times unavoidable, and week after week I have driven to my own astonishment how escaping, winding about among these stumps, progressing at most not more than three miles an hour. Were the "four in hand" thought I, to try their skill on these roads, many a wreck would soon strew the ground.
But to return to our adventure; for our companion calls, and presses me to urge forward the horses; advice needless to give, for alas! we could not adopt it. The small track became more blind; our guide appeared to be confused; and not a little to my dismay and vexation, instead of road as good as Vincennes town-street, we were at length entangled in woodland; brushing through breaking boughs, going in and out through bogs, and lifting the wheels over dead fallen trees as we could. In this situation, as difficult to retreat as advance, I knew not what to do and began to suspect some foul play; but recollecting the respectable character our companion bore at Vincennes, I dismissed the thought, and being both myself and servant armed I resolved to try to proceed; so calling in a peremptory tone to our friend in advance to keep in sight, for I fancied he seemed to be uneasy at his situation, and he at times [101] disappeared, I asked him, not if this was his excellent road—I was too vexed for that, but how much farther such difficulties would be found: he answered not far; that we were near the river, and that we would cross it at a nearer ferry than he had at first intended; adding, he would ride on and get the boat ready, he vanished, after pointing the way we were to follow.
I now thought he was gone, and had left us in the lurch; however we got on by degrees, and at length had the pleasure to see the river side, and our friend waiting for us with the crazy ferry boat, into which with some difficulty we got the carriage. Our difficulties were now to cease he said, and a good road the rest of the way was to reward our exertions; for better assurance of these good tidings I endeavoured to obtain some information from the boatmen as we crossed the Wabash; but they proved to be Canadian French, and we did not sufficiently understand their "patois" to gain any satisfactory account from them. We landed safely; and after rising the river bank, actually did find a tolerable good woodland road for some miles, until it approached without much hinderance a small settlement, dignified with the name of Palmyra; a place which to all appearance need not hope for the prosperity so [102] much as it may fear the lot, of its prototype. Here we found a log tavern, however, and we halted to consider what to do; for the day was closing and I remembered there would be no twilight. In this dilemma I again suffered myself to be guided by our companion, who represented, that at this log inn we should not find any accommodations, either for ourselves or horses beyond shelter, that his house was now but three short miles further upon a good road; and that he had provided every thing for our comfort as well as that of our cattle: yielding to these pressing arguments, the rather too as he seemed a little chagrined at my hesitation, I once more trotted on, which the horses could well do, for about half a mile beyond the settlement. But how shall I describe what followed! Our guide turned again into the wood calling out that it was his private road: and private indeed we found it, for we soon lost all track and light together.
There was now no retreating, so summoning up more resolution from despair, I urged and encouraged my good little horses, and they dragged the carriage at the constant risk of our necks, through brushwood, over fallen trees, down and up precipitous banks and deep gullies, which I could scarcely discern, and which if I could have seen should not have attempted; [103] until I became so enraged at the man's deception that had he given the least provocation I believe I should have shot him; however he luckily avoided this by keeping a little in advance, and mildly calling out now and then to direct the way saying we were very near; and indeed, long after day had departed, we halted at a gate. Here he advised us to get out and walk, as the way, up to the house for wheels was circuitous; out therefore we got, when I perceived approaching, carrying a light, a human figure in form, dress, and manner as wild and complete a ruffian as ever Shakspeare pourtrayed.
To this being, whose appearance, and the friendly shake of the hand given him by my conductor, did not tend to relieve my mind from suspicions of I knew not what, I was fain to give up my horses; he returned a surly answer in French to Mr. ***** who had said something I did not understand, and receiving the reins from me jumped into the carriage and drove away; but not alone, for I directed my man to go with him; a service he probably did not much relish, but which in my then state of mind I thought necessary. I now explored my way towards a light, and soon came up to a portico which had the appearance of being built in good style: here too I had the satisfaction to [104] meet the carriage, which I had no sooner come up to, than a voice which seemed of stentorian power hailed me from the portico with a torrent of words, amongst which what struck me most was, "You have got here but you will never get away again!" My host who had approached to press me to enter his house, seemed to put this off with a smile not quite easy; and I declined quitting my horses being determined to see them into the promised stable; but upon expressing this intention the ill omened voice again thundered, "Oh, there is no place for your horses but this,—they will be safe enough,—they cannot get out."—"But they are warm," said I; "have had a long pull ever since noon without bait, and will catch cold out of a stable." "Can't help it" was the answer; but just after he added, "to be sure there is a log place, but it has no roof!" My host now again returned to invite me in; and under his assurance that the horses should have every care taken of them, and knowing that my own man would do his best for them, I reluctantly gave up the point; mounted a flight of steps, crossed the Piazza, and entered a room not calculated to make amazement cease. It was spacious, lofty, well-proportioned, and finished in every part in the very best style of workmanship: a good wood fire [105] blazed upon a beautiful polished grate, the appertenances to which were equally handsome; a marble chimney piece, the tables, chairs, the supper table, and lights supported in handsome branches, all which is commonly seen in good houses, was here, surrounded by primæval wilderness; an accomplishment so wonderful that it seemed not to be within any power short of those of necromancy, and when my mind glanced back upon the way we had been led, I might fairly suspect the person who had done it to have some credit at the court of his Satanic Majesty. Such thoughts however were well dispelled by a neat supper, served in a manner corresponding with the appearance of the place; and by the aid of some excellent wine our spirits began to flow as the impressions of the day's adventures were, for a while, lost in social converse. Our host I found to be a man of the world; knowing perfectly well how, and practising that which he knew, to be agreeable; full of anecdote, which he gave well; and after keeping it up to a late hour we retired to rest in a handsome adjoining chamber.
Rising with the early sun, refreshed from the harass of the preceding day, I walked out anxious to explore the lodgings of my four-footed companions, not much expecting to find that "every [106] care" had been taken of them; indeed after a considerable search I at length discovered the place of their confinement, in an inclosure of logs without the slightest roof; of course they looked piteously, for the nights had become rather keen and frosty. Perhaps it may be thought by some readers that too much has been said of the dumb servants; but let those who think so either take a journey, during which their lives shall constantly depend upon the steadiness of their horses or at least let these objectors reflect, that during such daily acquaintance a sort of mute friendly understanding takes place between the driver and his cattle;—they will then no longer wonder at his anxiety for their welfare. And here let us bring this strange adventure to a close; we passed two days very pleasantly, during which we met with the most attentive hospitality, and I am unwilling to search for other motive; though, perhaps, it might principally be to induce me to engage in aid of a scheme to build mills upon a favourable situation on the Wabash river: this I mention, in order to take the opportunity of cautioning emigrants against engaging in the schemes, generally delusive, of the old settler or the American. However plausible they may appear, let him be the more cautious; it may happen that [107] they answer—some do so; but nine individuals in ten of those who are drawn in are ruined notwithstanding; for they get wheedled out of their property by trick and chicanery, which the American laws too much favour.