Let those therefore who come into this country, and bring capital with a view to settle, take good care not to be in the least haste to lay it out: let them keep their money in their pockets and view a speculation on all sides; nay, turn it inside out before they venture a dollar in it: and above all, let the emigrant distrust his own judgment, and ever keep in mind that the American upon his own soil is in business and speculation an overmatch for Europeans. One material reason for which is, that he is not at all nice or scrupulous about the means, so he attains his end; which is money,—money,—for ever, money. It is therefore much safer for an emigrant to embark in business by himself than to trust his property in partnership; in the first case, he may at least know how he is going on; in the last, it is probable he never will until too late.
An instance of the result of delusive expectations, may be seen in the man who has been an inmate a long time past with my present host, and from whom the words of ill-omen proceeded on the night of our arrival. He was [108] born in a manufacturing district in England and brought up a builder and cabinet-maker: discontented, as truly too many have had reason to be, with the remunerations of his business he embarked, with his wife and a decent capital in money, for America. Set ashore upon its coast, he found not his sanguine expectations realized; therefore wandered into the western country, working at little gain for one person and another, until his capital was considerably lessened: when at length he met with this gentleman, who engaged him to build the house in which we have been so well entertained;—with him, he has placed the remainder of his money, to be repaid to him with interest whenever a large bill due for his exertions shall be settled:—Perhaps his troubles and disappointments in this life may be over before this happens, for a rapid decline is carrying him off, and we will hope that then heaven will send a protector to the widow and the fatherless.
[109] A VISIT TO THE ENGLISH SETTLEMENT IN THE ILLINOIS
On the third morning we made early preparations for departure; and accepting gladly the offer of the builder for a guide, we took leave of Marvel Hall and, not without considerable apprehensions of difficulties to come in getting away, started for the town of Albion, as the English settlement is called. According to expectation the way was not free from wood, bog, gully, and stump; but with the aid of day these obstacles were overcome without accident; and after having traversed several miles of woodland and prairie, covered with long grass and brushwood, and having lost our way once or twice, we at length crossed a narrow forest track, and rising an eminence entered upon the so-much talked-of Boulton House Prairie; just as the sun in full front of us was setting majestically, tinging with his golden rays what appeared to be a widely extended and beautiful park, belted in the distance with woodland over which the eye ranged afar. The ground was finely undulated, and here and there ornamented with interspersed [110] clumps of the White Oak and other timber, in such forms that our picturesque planters of highest repute might fairly own themselves outdone. The effect was indeed striking, and we halted to enjoy it until the last rays of the beautiful luminary told the necessity of hurrying on to the settlement, in search of quarters for the night; indulging by the way sanguine hopes of an English supper and comfort as a matter of course at an English settlement. The road was good, yet the length of way made it nearly dark when we drove up to the log tavern; before the door and dispersed, stood several groups of people, who seemed so earnest in discourse that they scarcely heeded us; others, many of whom were noisy from the effects of a visit to the whiskey store, crowded round to look at us; and amidst the general confusion as we carried the luggage in (having first obtained a bed-room,) I was not a little apprehensive of losing some of it. However, we got all safely stored, and taking the horses off led them into a straw-yard full of others, for there was no stable room to be had; and what was worse no water, not sufficient even to sprinkle over some Indian corn which we got for them. The landlord did all that lay in his power, but our own fare proved little better than that of our horses, which spoke volumes [111] on the state of the settlement; some very rancid butter, a little sour bread, and some slices of lean fried beef, which it was vain to expect the teeth could penetrate, washed down by bad coffee sweetened with wild honey, formed our repast. We asked for eggs,—milk,—sugar,—salt; the answer to all was "We have none." The cows had strayed away for some days in search of water, of which the people could not obtain sufficient for their own ordinary drink; there being none for cattle, or to wash themselves, or clothes. After making such a meal as we could, and having spread our own sheets I laid down armed at all points, that is with gloves and stockings on, and a long rough flannel dressing gown, and thus defended slept pretty well.
In the morning a request was sent to Mr. Birkbeck for some water, understanding that he had a plentifully supplied well;—the answer sent back was, that he made it a general rule to refuse every one: a similar application to Mr. Flower however met with a different fate, and the horses were not only well supplied, but a pitcher of good water was sent for our breakfast. If the first was not punished for his general refusal the latter was rewarded for his grant by finding on his grounds and not far from his house, two days after, a plentiful spring of clear [112] water, which immediately broke out on the first spit of earth's being removed; this real treasure I saw flowing; the discovery of it appeared miraculous in the midst of so general a drought.
We now sallied out to take a view of the settlement, which is marked out not on prairie, but on woodland, only just partially cleared here and there where a house is built; so that there is yet but little appearance of a town. A very neat roofed-in building for a market first attracts the eye; at one end, parted off with boards, and under the same roof is a very decent place of worship; which is at present of a size sufficient for the place.
While we were viewing this edifice a young Englishman introduced himself with a welcome to us, and hopes expressed that I should settle among them; he was, I found, the medical man of the place, and in himself certainly formed one inducement to stay, for he seemed to be a very pleasant communicative man, he possessed a very prettily finished picturesque cottage and seemed sanguine in his hopes of the success of the settlement. We visited a wheelwright next; one of the many who had been induced by Mr. Birkbeck to emigrate soon after he himself left England:—The man's story is shortly this: he and his brother sailed [113] for America; and were induced by Mr. B.'s "Notes" to leave the Eastern parts where good employment was offered to them, and to repair to the Prairies. On arriving, he found none of the cottages ready for the reception of emigrants which his reading had led him to expect, nor any comforts whatever: he was hired however by Mr. B., and got a log hut erected; but for six months the food left for his subsistence was only some reasty bacon and Indian corn, with water a considerable part of the time completely muddy; while Mr. B., himself at Princetown and elsewhere, did not, as he might have done, send him any relief. On account of these hardships the man left him, set up for himself, and now has, he told me, plenty of work, but he seemed doubtful of the pay. These are the facts as related to me by others, and corroborated by the man:—If true, without some strong qualifying circumstances, I leave Mr. B. to settle with his conscience the bringing people out thus far, by his misrepresentations, to hopeless banishment; for return they cannot, though they would be glad so to do.
Our tavern-keeper, who was a very respectable farmer, left a good farm near Baldock in Hertfordshire, guided by Mr. Birkbeck's book, to find health, wealth, and freedom at Boulton-house [114] Prairie: of the two first both himself and family were quickly getting rid, while they were absolutely working each day like horses without one comfort left.—"How came you," said I, "to leave so good a farm as you had in England?" His answer was, "Mr. Birkbeck's book."—"You would be glad now to return?" added I. "Sir," said he, "we must not think that way; we have buried our property in getting here, and must here remain!" Such facts as these are worth a thousand flattering theories on the other side; and another may be here added,—perhaps a salutary caution to Mr. B. if this should be the first intimation—that the angry feelings of the poor people who had been entrapped by the deceptious colouring of his writings, flashed out in true English threats of tossing him in a blanket! I abstain from comment upon this, my business being to state facts. I forbear too from respect for a man of good natural abilities; misled himself by a sanguine temper which has been the cause of his misleading others: I will be silent too upon the subject of private differences, conceiving that public acts alone are those in which the public are interested, and ought to be inquisitive.
Mr. Flower followed up his seasonable supply of water, with a call and invitation to his house, [115] which was gladly accepted; being much disgusted at the deplorable state of ill health, anxious looks, despair and discontent, depicted in so many faces around,—to relieve or even alleviate which we possessed no means.
The contrast to this at Mr. Flower's was violent and pleasing; there, we met with every polite and hospitable attention during our stay, and from thence alone we were grieved to depart. In the midst of these wilds the elegant repast and social converse were again, as if by magic, enjoyed; and in such agreeable dissipation of mind the purposes of the journey were perhaps too much lost sight of, and many inquiries neglected which are now causes of regret. We did not fail however to explore the retreat of Mr. Morris Birkbeck,—a pleasant drive across the Prairie brought us to the Flat, at one extremity of which Mr. B. has established himself. We found him busy superintending the building of his house; the site of which is within twenty yards of his erection of logs, a square building divided into two rooms, as I heard, for we did not see the interior of this sanctum sanctorum from whence have been issued relations of so many snug cottages, with adjoining piggeries, cow-steads, gardens, and orchards; where the limbs of the poor emigrant were to find repose and his [116] mind solace, not to mention the ranges of log rooms for the arch priest himself which were building two years ago;[39*] all—all have vanished "into thin air," except the humble primitive log building before mentioned. This serves the whole family, according to the cobbler's song,