Travels Through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West Florida, the Cherokee Country, the Extensive Territories of the Muscogulges, or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the Chactaws. Containing an Account of the Soil and Natural Productions of Those Regions, Together With Observations on the Manners of the Indians.

CHAPTER III.

Chapter 353,265 wordsPublic domain

I sat off early in the morning for the Indian trading-house, in the river St. Mary, and took the road up the N. E. side of the Alatamaha to Fort-Barrington. I passed through a well-inhabited district, mostly rice plantations, on the waters of Cathead creek, a branch of the Alatamaha. On drawing near the fort, I was greatly delighted at the appearance of two new beautiful shrubs, in all their blooming graces. One of them appeared to be a species of Gordonia,[6] but the flowers are larger, and more fragrant than those of the Gordonia Lascanthus, and are sessile; the seed vessel is also very different. The other was equally distinguished for beauty and singularity; it grows twelve or fifteen feet high, the branches ascendant and opposite, and terminate with large panicles of pale blue tubular flowers, specked on the inside with crimson; but what is singular, these panicles are ornamented with a number of ovate large bracteæ, as white, and like fine paper, their tops and verges stained with a rose-red, which, at a little distance, has the appearance of clusters of roses, at the extremities of the limbs: the flowers are of the Cl. Pentandria monogynia; the leaves are nearly ovate, pointed and petioled, standing opposite to one another on the branches.

After fifteen miles riding, I arrived at the ferry, which is near the site of the fort. Here is a considerable height and bluff on the river, and evident vestiges of an ancient Indian town may be seen, such as old extensive fields, and conical mounds, or artificial heaps of earth. I here crossed the river, which is about five hundred yards over, in a good large boat, rowed by a Creek Indian, who was married to a white woman; he seemed an active, civil, and sensible man. I saw large, tall trees of the Nyssa coccinea, si. Ogeeche, growing on the banks of the river. They grow in the water, near the shore. There is no tree that exhibits a more desirable appearance than this, in the autumn, when their fruit is ripe, and the tree divested of its leaves; for then they look as red as scarlet, with their fruit, which is of that colour also. It is of the shape, but larger than the olive, containing an agreeable acid juice. The leaves are oblong lanceolate and entire, somewhat hoary underneath; their upper surface of a full green, and shining; the petioles short, pedunculis multifloris. The most northern settlement of this tree, yet known, is on Great Ogeeche, where they are called Ogeeche limes, from their acid fruit being about the size of limes, and their being sometimes used in their stead.

Being safely landed on the opposite bank, I mounted my horse, and followed the high road to the ferry on St. Ille, about sixty miles south of the Alatamaha, passing through an uninhabited wilderness. The sudden transition from rich cultivated settlements, to high pine forests, dark and grassy savannas, forms in my opinion no disagreeable contrast; and the new objects of observation in the works of nature soon reconcile the surprised imagination to the change. As soon as I had lost sight of the river, ascending some sand-hills, I observed a new and most beautiful species of Annona, having clusters of large white fragrant flowers; and a diminutive but elegant Kalmia. The stems are very small, feeble, and for the most part undivided, furnished with little ovate pointed leaves, and terminate with a simple racemi, or spike of flowers, salver formed, and of a deep rose red. The whole plant is ciliated. It grows in abundance all over the moist savannas, but more especially near ponds and bay-swamps. In similar situations, and commonly a near neighbour to this new Kalmia, is seen a very curious species of Annona. It is a very dwarf, the stems seldom extending from the earth more than a foot or eighteen inches, and are weak and almost decumbent. The leaves are long, extremely narrow, almost lineal. However, small as they are, they retain the figure common to the species, that is, lanceolate, broadest at the upper end, and attenuating down to the petiole, which is very short; their leaves stand alternately, nearly erect, forming two series, or wings, on the arcuated stems. The flowers, both in size and colour, resemble those of the Antrilobe, and are single from the axillæ of the leaves on incurved pedunculi, nodding downwards. I never saw the fruit. The dens, or caverns, dug in the sand-hills, by the great land-tortoise, called here Gopher,[7] present a very singular appearance: these vast caves are their castles and diurnal retreats, from whence they issue forth in the night, in search of prey. The little mounds, or hillocks of fresh earth, thrown up in great numbers in the night, have also a curious appearance.

In the evening I arrived at a cow-pen, where there was a habitation, and the people received me very civilly. I staid here all night, and had for supper plenty of milk, butter, and very good cheese of their own make, which is a novelty in the maritime parts of Carolina and Georgia; the inhabitants being chiefly supplied with it from Europe and the northern states. The next day’s progress, in general, presented scenes similar to the preceding, though the land is lower, more level and humid, and the produce more varied: high open forests of stately pines, flowery plains, and extensive green savannas, checquered with the incarnate Chironia, pulcherrima, and Asclepias fragrans, perfumed the air whilst they pleased the eye. I met with some troublesome cane swamps, saw herds of horned cattle, horses and deer, and took notice of a procumbent species of Hibiscus, the leaves palmated, the flowers large and expanded, pale yellow and white, having a deep crimson eye; the whole plant, except the corolla, armed with stiff hair. I also saw a beautiful species of Lupin, having pale green villous lingulate[8] leaves; the flowers are disposed in long erect spikes; some plants produce flowers of the finest celestial blue, others incarnate, and some milk white, and though they all three seem to be varieties of one species, yet they associate in separate communities, sometimes approaching near each other’s border, or in sight at a distance. Their districts are situated on dry sandy heights, in open pine forests, which are naturally thin of undergrowth, and appear to great advantage; generally, where they are found, they occupy many acres of surface. The vegetative mould is composed of fine white sand, mixed, and coloured, with dissolved and calcined vegetable substances; but this stratum is not very deep, and covers one of a tenacious cinereous coloured clay, as we may observe by the earth adhering to the roots of trees, torn up by storms, &c. and by the little chimnies, or air holes of cray-fish, which perforate the savannas. Turkeys, quails, and small birds, are here to be seen; but birds are not numerous in desert forests; they draw near to the habitations of men, as I have constantly observed in all my travels.

I arrived at St. Ille’s in the evening, where I lodged, and next morning having crossed over in a ferry boat, sat forward for St. Mary’s. The situation of the territory, its soil and productions, between these two last rivers, are nearly similar to those which I had passed over, except that the savannas are more frequent and extensive.

It may be proper to observe, that I had now passed the utmost frontier of the white settlements on that border. It was drawing on towards the close of day, the skies serene and calm, the air temperately cool, and gentle zephyrs breathing through the fragrant pines; the prospect around enchantingly varied and beautiful; endless green savannas, checquered with coppices of fragrant shrubs, filled the air with the richest perfume. The gaily attired plants which enamelled the green had begun to imbibe the pearly dew of evening; nature seemed silent, and nothing appeared to ruffle the happy moments of evening contemplation; when, on a sudden, an Indian appeared crossing the path, at a considerable distance before me. On percieving that he was armed with a rifle, the first sight of him startled me, and I endeavoured to elude his sight, by stopping my pace, and keeping large trees between us; but he espied me, and turning short about, sat spurs to his horse, and came up on full gallop. I never before this was afraid at the sight of an Indian, but at this time, I must own that my spirits were very much agitated: I saw at once, that, being unarmed, I was in his power, and having now but a few moments to prepare, I resigned myself entirely to the will of the Almighty, trusting to his mercies for my preservation; my mind then became tranquil, and I resolved to meet the dreaded foe with resolution and cheerful confidence. The intrepid Siminole stopped suddenly, three or four yards before me, and silently viewed me, his countenance angry and fierce, shifting his rifle from shoulder to shoulder, and looking about instantly on all sides. I advanced towards him, and with an air of confidence offered him my hand, hailing him, brother; at this he hastily jerked back his arm, with a look of malice, rage and disdain, seeming every way discontented; when again looking at me more attentively, he instantly spurred up to me, and with dignity in his look and action, gave me his hand. Possibly the silent language of his soul, during the moment of suspense (for I believe his design was to kill me when he first came up) was after this manner: “White man, thou art my enemy, and thou and thy brethren may have killed mine; yet it may not be so, and even were that the case, thou art now alone, and in my power. Live; the Great Spirit forbids me to touch thy life; go to thy brethren, tell them thou sawest an Indian in the forests, who knew how to be humane and compassionate.” In fine, we shook hands, and parted in a friendly manner, in the midst of a dreary wilderness; and he informed me of the course and distance to the trading-house, where I found he had been extremely ill-treated the day before.

I now sat forward again, and after eight or ten miles riding, arrived at the banks of St. Mary’s, opposite the stores, and got safe over before dark. The river is here about one hundred yards across, has ten feet water, and, following its course, about sixty miles to the sea, though but about twenty miles by land. The trading company here received and treated me with great civility. On relating my adventures on the road, particularly the last with the Indian, the chief replied, with a countenance that at once bespoke surprise and pleasure, “My friend, consider yourself a fortunate man: that fellow,” said he, “is one of the greatest villains on earth, a noted murderer, and outlawed by his countrymen. Last evening he was here, we took his gun from him, broke it in pieces, and gave him a severe drubbing: he, however, made his escape, carrying off a new rifle gun, with which, he said, going off, he would kill the first white man he met.”

On seriously contemplating the behaviour of this Indian towards me, so soon after his ill treatment, the following train of sentiments insensibly crowded in upon my mind.

Can it be denied, but that the moral principle, which directs the savages to virtuous and praiseworthy actions, is natural or innate? It is certain they have not the assistance of letters, or those means of education in the schools of philosophy, where the virtuous sentiments and actions of the most illustrious characters are recorded, and carefully laid before the youth of civilized nations: therefore this moral principle must be innate, or they must be under the immediate influence and guidance of a more divine and powerful preceptor, who, on these occasions, instantly inspires them, and as with a ray of divine light, points out to them at once the dignity, propriety, and beauty of virtue.

The land on, and adjacent to, this river, notwithstanding its arenaceous surface, appears naturally fertile. The peach trees are large, healthy, and fruitful; and Indian corn, rice, cotton, and indigo, thrive exceedingly. This sandy surface, one would suppose, from its loose texture, would possess a percolating quality, and suffer the rainwaters quickly to drain off; but it is quite the contrary, at least in these low maritime sandy countries of Carolina and Florida, beneath the mountains; for in the sands, even the heights, where the arenaceous stratum is perhaps five, eight, and ten feet above the clay, the earth, even in the longest droughts, is moist an inch or two under the surface; whereas, in the rich tenacious low lands, at such times, the ground is dry, and, as it were, baked many inches, and sometimes some feet deep, and the crops, as well as almost all vegetation, suffer in such soils and situations. The reason of this may be, that this kind of earth admits more freely of a transpiration of vapours, arising from intestine watery canals to the surface; and probably these vapours are impregnated with saline or nitrous principles, friendly and nutritive to vegetables; however, of these causes and secret operations of nature I am ignorant, and resume again my proper employment, that of discovering and collecting data for the exercise of more able physiologists.

The savannas about St. Mary’s, at this season, display a very charming appearance of flowers and verdure; their more elevated borders are varied with beds of violets, lupins, Amaryllis atamasco, and plants of a new and very beautiful species of Mimosa sensitiva, which I think as admirable, and more charming than the celebrated Humble plant, equally chaste and fearful of the hasty touch of the surprised admirer. The flower is larger, of a bright damask rose colour, and exceedingly fragrant: the whole plant is destitute of prickles, but hairy; it is procumbent, reclining itself upon the green turf, and from these trailing branches proceed an upright peduncle, six or eight inches high, supporting an oblong head of flowerets, which altogether, at a small distance, have the appearance of an exuberant field of clover; and, what is singular, and richly varies the scene, there are interspersed patches of the same species of plants, having flowers of the finest golden yellow, and others snow white; but the incarnate is most prevalent. Magnolia glauca, Itea Clethra, Chionanthus, Gordonia lasianthus, Ilex angustifolium, Olea Americana, Hopea tinctoria, &c. are seated in detached groves or clumps, round about the ponds or little lakes, at the lower end of the savannas. I observed, growing on the banks of this sequestered river, the following trees and shrubs: Quercus sempervirens, Q. aquatica, Q. Phillos, Q. dentata, Nyssa aquatica, N. sylvatica, N. Ogeeche, si. coccinea, Cupressus disticha, Fraxinus aquatica, Rhamnus frangula, Prunus laurocerasus, Cyrilla racemiflora, Myrica cerifera, Andromeda ferruginea, Andr. nitida, and the great evergreen Andromeda of Florida, called Pipe-stem Wood, to which I gave the name of Andromeda formosissima, as it far exceeds in beauty every one of this family.

The river St. Mary has its source from a vast lake, or marsh, called Ouaquaphenogaw, which lies between Flint and Oakmulge rivers, and occupies a space of near three hundred miles in circuit. This vast accumulation of waters, in the wet season, appears as a lake, and contains some large islands or knolls, of rich high land; one of which the present generation of the Creeks represent to be a most blissful spot of the earth: they say it is inhabited by a peculiar race of Indians, whose women are incomparably beautiful; they also tell you that this terrestrial paradise has been seen by some of their enterprising hunters, when in pursuit of game, who being lost in inextricable swamps and bogs, and on the point of perishing, were unexpectedly relieved by a company of beautiful women, whom they call daughters of the sun, who kindly gave them such provisions as they had with them, which were chiefly fruit, oranges, dates, &c. and some corn cakes, and then enjoined them to fly for safety to their own country; for that their husbands were fierce men, and cruel to strangers: they further say, that these hunters had a view of their settlements, situated on the elevated banks of an island, or promontory, in a beautiful lake; but that in their endeavours to approach it, they were involved in perpetual labyrinths, and, like enchanted land, still as they imagined they had just gained it, it seemed to fly before them, alternately appearing and disappearing. They resolved, at length, to leave the delusive pursuit, and to return; which, after a number of inexpressible difficulties, they effected. When they reported their adventures to their countrymen, their young warriors were enflamed with an irresistible desire to invade, and make a conquest of, so charming a country; but all their attempts have hitherto proved abortive, never having been able again to find that enchanting spot, nor even any road or pathway to it; yet they say that they frequently meet with certain signs of its being inhabited, as the building of canoes, footsteps of men, &c. They tell another story concerning the inhabitants of this sequestered country, which seems probable enough, which is, that they are the posterity of a fugitive remnant of the ancient Yamases, who escaped massacre after a bloody and decisive conflict between them and the Creek nation (who, it is certain, conquered, and nearly exterminated, that once powerful people), and here found an asylum, remote and secure from the fury of their proud conquerors. It is, however, certain that there is a vast lake, or drowned swamp, well known, and often visited both by white and Indian hunters, and on its environs the most valuable hunting grounds in Florida, well worth contending for, by those powers whose territories border upon it. From this great source of rivers,[9] St. Mary arises, and meanders through a vast plain and pine forest, near an hundred and fifty miles to the ocean, with which it communicates, between the points of Amelia and Talbert islands; the waters flow deep and gently down from its source to the sea.

Having made my observations on the vegetable productions of this part of the country, and obtained specimens and seeds of some curious trees and shrubs (which were the principal objects of this excursion) I returned by the same road to the Alatamaha, and arrived safe again at the seat of my good friend, L. M’Intosh, esq. where I tarried a few days to rest and refresh myself, and to wait for my young companion and fellow pilgrim, Mr. John M’Intosh, who, being fond of the enterprise, had been so active during my absence, in the necessary preparations, that we had nothing to wait for now but Mrs. M’Intosh’s final consent to give up her son to the perils and hardships of so long a journey; which difficult point being settled, we set off with the prayers and benevolent wishes of my companion’s worthy parents.

[6] Franklinia Alatahama.

[7] Testudo Polyphemus.

[8] Lupinus breunis, foliis integerimis oblongis villosis.

[9] Source of rivers. It is said, that St. Ille, St. Mary, and the beautiful river Little St. Juan, which discharges its waters into the bay of Apalachi, at St. Mark’s, take their rise from this swamp.