CHAPTER XIV.
At Natchez, I left the boat, and stopped a day or two, to make the necessary preparations to go over land on horseback to Texas. There is a steamboat that plies regularly between this place and Alexandria on Red River; and we should rather have travelled by water as far as that place, and avoided crossing the Mississippi swamp by land; but the boat had gone, and would not return under a number of days.
Natchez is an incorporated city, containing about three thousand inhabitants. That part of it which lies under the bluff near the river, is muddy, looks old and disagreeable; but the main part of the city is situated on a high bank, two hundred feet above the river; chiefly built of brick, quite pleasant, and makes quite a show of business. The ground back of it, is full of gullies, and is unpleasant. It is an old town, but has much improved within a few years.
Many people going to Texas continue on down the river to New-Orleans, and there take a passage on board a vessel to some port in the province; but my desire was to see the country, and therefore, I chose to travel over land. A pleasant and companionable gentleman from the State of New-York, who came down in the boat with me, agreed to bear me company. Some acquaintances of his, with their families, were on the road to Texas, and he like myself wished to see the country.
Having provided ourselves with horses, portmanteaus, fireworks, &c. and obtained the necessary directions, we took an early start; crossed the Mississippi in a ferry boat, for which we were taxed half a dollar each; and took the road to Alexandria. We had some ill-forbodings about the great Mississippi swamp; for just as we were about to cross the river a gentleman, of whom we made some enquires respecting the route, told us he thought it now impossible to travel through it in consequence of the rains which had recently fallen. But we were all equipped to go by land, and this, our only route; and therefore, we determined, at all events, to push forward.
There is a road from the mouth of Red River, along its bank to Alexandria, and this, we were afterwards informed, is the best route; but it was seventy miles below us; and whoever takes it, must go down in a boat.
Our route lay, for the first six miles, up the river near its bank; and then we turned more to the west. We passed half a dozen cotton plantations, some quite large, and saw an army of negroes picking it.
The cotton plant grows about as high as a man's head, has blossoms about as big as that of a small rose, and resembling in appearance the hollyhock, but more extensive branches. The pod is about the size and shape of the outer covering of a walnut; and when ripe, it opens in quarters, and presents the cotton in full view. A negro takes a basket or a bag, and swings it at his side, and with his thumb and finger picks out the cotton, almost as fast as a hen picks up corn. It grows from the seed, is planted every year in hills like corn, and cultivated in the same manner.
A field of cotton in full blossom, makes a fine appearance. After it is picked, it is laid on a rack to dry; then ginned to take out the seed, and put up in bales for the market. The rope and bagging used, are the manufacture of Kentucky; or at least it brings more into market than all the other States. I was told that one prime hand on good land would _make_ ten bales of cotton a year, and raise corn enough to support himself. The average worth of these bales is five hundred dollars. From enquiries I afterwards made, I believe the plantations generally make about seven bales to the hand. No wonder negroes are valuable in a cotton-growing country.
Our route now lay through a dense forest--and the ground generally so miry that we could only ride on a walk. Sometimes we came to the thick canebrakes, about twenty feet high, and overhanging our narrow path. Sometimes, we found the palmetto, which exactly resembles a large green, open fan, standing on a stem a foot high, and so thick that we could hardly ride through them, or see any path at all. Sometimes we came to a sheet of water a hundred yards wide, in which a horse would plunge to the saddle skirts, and for a while, become stuck fast; and again, we would find a cypress swamp, full of cypress knees and mud. Indeed it is the worst swamp I ever travelled over, before or since; and sometimes, I thought our horses were stuck too fast ever to move again.
These cypress knees are quite a curiosity. They start from the roots of the tree, grow from two to four feet high, about the size of a man's arm, but rather larger at the bottom, and are smooth, without leaf or branch. They look like a parcel of small posts with the bark growing over the top end; and are so thick, that it is troublesome to ride among them. The cause or use of this anomaly in nature I cannot divine.
Eighteen miles from Natchez, we came to two log houses and a small stream, called the Tensaw. We crossed the ferry, about twice the length of the boat in width, and paid half a dollar each for ferriage. We had now twelve miles to go to find a stopping place for the night, and all the way, through a dense forest of lofty trees; and it was three o'clock in the afternoon. The first half of the distance was decent travelling, although we could not ride much of the way faster than a walk. Then we came to a wet and miry road.
It began to grow dark in the woods. The trees were quite thick, and hung full of Spanish moss; and there was no moon in the sky. The wolf, the wildcat, and the owl, had pitched their tune for the night; and soon, thick darkness shrouded around our path. The heavens were clear; yet so dense were the foliage and moss, that it was seldom I could find a loop hole, through which a star might cast its rays upon us. I never had been in such a gloomy situation before. We were in a path, to us untravelled; and by its appearance, seldom travelled by man. We had shoals of muddy water to cross, and sloughs of mud to wallow through. And then the night was so dark, and the track so faint, we frequently lost it, and found it again with difficulty. It was ten o'clock at night when we arrived on the shore of the lake, and saw a light on the other side. We raised the ferryman after a while, and he came out and took us over.
This lake is about a mile wide, and twelve long, and must have once been the channel of the Mississippi. The ferriage here was half a dollar each. On the other side, we found a good house, and a genteel family within. They soon provided for us an excellent supper, which was very acceptable after a ride of thirty miles over such an execrable road. Not being much used to travelling on horseback, I felt excessively fatigued and retired immediately to bed. My companion and myself had each of us a good bed, and we slept soundly until after sunrise.
The morning was fine, so we walked awhile along the shore of the lake, before breakfast. It was about the twentieth of November, yet the air felt as mild as a morning in June. The winter was following hard after me, yet I had travelled to the southward and westward faster than the cold weather. The coldest weather I had found on my route, was in the State of New-York. There is a softness in the atmosphere of the western States that is very grateful to the feelings, and is not found in our northern climate. In going westward on the same parallel of latitude, the air becomes sensibly more mild and bland. The air is very clear, so here as in Illinois, I could discern objects much further than at the North. I could see a house so far off, that it would not look larger than a bee-hive. There had been no frost here, and nature wore her livery of green.
This gentleman has a fine cotton plantation of rich alluvial land. His house is built facing the lake, on an Indian mound, levelled down to the height of about six feet. We took breakfast with the family in a large portico on the back side of the house. It was a good breakfast, on a neat spread table, and the lady at the head performed the honors of it, with an ease and grace seldom equalled. We performed our parts to a charm, both in eating the breakfast and complimenting the hostess.
This family were from the State of Virginia, and had been settled here in Louisiana seven years.--The gentleman informed me they had generally enjoyed good health, although they had sometimes been afflicted with the fever and ague.
It is refreshing to the weary traveller, when far away from his home, to find a spot in his path, where he can renew his strength, and repose in peace. At such a spot he lingers, leaves it with regret, and treasures it up in his memory.
I have often thought, that many persons do not travel in a right spirit. They start on their journey with a full belief that all the customs and modes of life they find, differing from those they have been accustomed to, are all wrong, and proper subjects of censure and dislike. They see nothing in its true light, enjoy nothing, find fault with everything; and are continually running their heads against a post. They are always on the rack; and probably punish themselves as much as they do every one around them. But such a course betrays a gross ignorance. Who can read the outpourings of madame Trollope's brain, without being convinced that she had too gross conceptions, and too strong prejudices, to write the history of any people, whose manners were different from her own. She saw nothing, only through a jaundiced eye; and she had too narrow and contracted a mind, ever to make the important discovery, that the fault might be in herself, and not in the objects with which she was surrounded.
Some prefer to be mere scavengers; and when they find anything gross or impure, delight to exhibit it to the gaze of the world. I have often thought of the severe reply of Dr. Johnson to a lady, who told him she liked his dictionary, because he had no indelicate words in it. O, says the doctor, I did not trouble _my_ head about them, but I see _you_ have been looking for them.
Other travellers think, the more fault they find, the more they will be noticed; and they will be treated with the more deference and respect. I once happened to ride in the stage with the venerable Chief Justice Marshall. He was affable and polite, at peace with himself, and displeased at nothing. In the same stage, as if nature intended to exhibit two beings, in bold relief, and make the contrast the more striking, was a testy young man, who found fault with every thing, and was pleased with nothing. He cursed the driver, the stage and the road; and the country through which we travelled was too execrable to live in. At the hotel, where we stopped to dine, he keeps the house in a continual uproar. The dinner bell rang, and we set down at the table. For some reason, he did not come in immediately; and when he made his appearance, the table was entirely full. This was too much for him to bear. He cursed the waiter for not saving a place for him. The waiter, as quick as possible, provided him a place at a side table. But he was determined not to be thrown into the shade in this manner. The Judge ate his dinner in silence; but this _side table_ gentleman kept a continual cry for something. "I say, waiter"--bring me this, and bring me that.--His vociferations became quite annoying. At length, he cried out with rather increased vehemence, "I say, waiter, bring me a _fresh_ potatoe." The moment this was uttered, one of the gentleman at our table said, "Waiter, give that gentleman a _fresh_ chair, I am sure he has set in that one long enough." This was a damper. It caused quite a laugh at the young man's expense. He became silent, and after dinner, we saw no more of him.