“Who prowl’d the country far and near,Bewitch’d the children of the peasants,Dry’d up the cows, and lam’d the deer,And suck’d the eggs, and kill’d the pheasants.”
“Who prowl’d the country far and near,Bewitch’d the children of the peasants,Dry’d up the cows, and lam’d the deer,And suck’d the eggs, and kill’d the pheasants.”
“Who prowl’d the country far and near,Bewitch’d the children of the peasants,Dry’d up the cows, and lam’d the deer,And suck’d the eggs, and kill’d the pheasants.”
“Who prowl’d the country far and near,
Bewitch’d the children of the peasants,
Dry’d up the cows, and lam’d the deer,
And suck’d the eggs, and kill’d the pheasants.”
Some too, imagined me an Icelander; and some a British Spy. A few treated me with rudeness, many in a very gentlemanly manner, and some, not knowing what to make of my appearance, conferred upon me the title of General, and invited me to drink with them.
With respect to the first class, I made a point of taking no notice of them, when I could with propriety avoid it; but when I could not, I always made an example of themupon the spot. Such men seldom possess even animal courage; and there are very few, even of their associates, who are not pleased to see them punished.
I may here observe, that I was impressed by the general ignorance, with respect to the manners and customs of other nations, which appeared to exist in the civilized places through which I passed; and especially in and about Albany.
It is well known, that in Russia and many other countries in the north of Europe, people generally dress, more or less, in furs; and there are some instances of such a practice, even in the Canadas.—These facts, connected with the severity of the weather which prevailed during the early stages of my tour, might, one would think, have rendered a suit of fur a less general object of surprise. Severe as our winters are, I think a garment or two of Buffalo or some other warm skin, to be worn occasionally, [28] would, to say nothing of comfort, save many a man from rheumatism, and even from being frozen to death. It is only a year or two, since the stage driver from Albany to Bennington, froze and fell from his seat. The passengers were not apprized of the event, until the horses had proceeded several miles. The power of frost upon human life is astonishing. In an unsuspecting moment the blood chills in the veins and ceases to move. The memorable winter of 1709 saw two thousand men, under the celebrated Charles the XIIth, fall dead with cold in one day.
Many other similar instances might be mentioned. As to Charles, however, he had, by habit, rendered himself almost superhuman. His person was as invulnerable to the frosts of Denieper, as was his mind to the misfortunes which finally made him a prisoner at Bender.[52]
On the evening of the 14th of February I had passed Otsego, Richfield, &c. and arrived at Plainfield. The towns between Albany and the last mentioned place are generally inconsiderable, and offer no interesting materials. They are, however, flourishing villages. During the whole of the 14th instant it snowed, and the travelling was very heavy. The general aspect of this part of the country is rather level than otherwise; there are here, however, many high and long hills. I had not yet ceased to be vulnerable to fatigue; but hardships had, in a measure, become familiar to me. I do not pretend that I did not sometimes stand in need of resolution; but men have only to move on, and difficulties become less. It is in looking ahead at the aggregate obstacles which present themselves in an undertaking, and in embodying them, as it were, in the space of a moment, that one’s mind is appalled. By meeting these obstacles in detail, we easily overcome [29] them; and then look back astonished at our apprehensions.
The Dutch mode of building, both with respect to their houses and barns, is visible in every part of the state of New-York; but American manners and customs are here absorbing all others.
The interior of this state, like that of New-Hampshire and Vermont, presents many small and ill contrived log huts; and those who have been unaccustomed to seeing such, would be surprised to find how comfortably people may live in them. These huts are sometimes without a floor, and have wooden chimnies. Men who are acquainted only with polished life, would tremble at the idea of spending their days in one of these buildings; yet, they are generally the abode of virtue, health and happiness.
On the 15th and 16th of February I passed through Eaton, Nelson, Casnove, Pompey and Manlius. Theweather was very severe, the snow deep, and continually blowing. At Pompey I was so beset by ignorant impertinence and loquacious curiosity, that I found it necessary to harrangue the multitude. Having laid down for them some salutary rules upon the subject of manners, and taking their silence for an apology, I proceeded to Manlius.
Even in this part of the country, bears, wolves, and deer are numerous. During the preceding fall the depredations of the two former were very great; and the bounty offered for wolves, by some of the counties in the state, was ninety dollars.
During the 17th the weather was still severe and the wind high. I passed Onondago[53]and Marcellus. Throughout these townships there are high and low hills. Owing to them, and to the depth of snow, my fatigue was great. My health also had suffered by many days and nights of severe tooth-ache. In [30] passing through these and many other places, I experienced attentions from people of consideration; and was frequently introduced to their families.
Onondago was formerly the chief town of the Six Nations; and lies on the south of the lake of that name. This lake is sometimes called salt lake; and the springs near its shores produce immense quantities of salt. The Onondago Indians reside near this lake; but their numbers are diminishing.
During the 18th, 19th and 20th of February I travelled through Brutus, Aurelius, Auburn, Cayuga, Junius, and Waterloo.[54]The weather in this part of the country hadbeen for several days, and still was colder than had been before known there. The snow likewise was remarkably deep. Cayuga Lake is about forty miles in length, and from two to four miles broad. The famous bridge across it is more than one mile in length. On the banks of this lake the Cayuga Indians reside.
The Six Nations of Indians above mentioned are the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagoes, Senecas, Cayugas and Tuscaroras. The Stockbridge and Brotherton Indians now live with the united tribes.[55]Notwithstanding these, and many other tribes are still in possession of vast tracts of land, and receive annually considerable sums from the United States, and also from individual states, they are occasionally emigrating to the wildernesses of Canada. Still wild and untameable, the surrounding aspect of civilization alarms them; and they silence the suggestions of jealousy by removing to pathless and illimitable forests.
Many of the villages on the Western Turnpike have made their appearance within a very few years; and the vast resources of the interior of the state of New-York are daily developing.
[31] During this part of my tour a little incident occurred,which resulted so pleasantly, and so fully evinced the policy as well as propriety of a certain course of conduct, that I am induced to mention it. In one of the last named towns, I was, whilst at a public house, furiously assailed by words and threats, by a man, who evidently had been of considerable consideration in society, but who had become a sot, and was at this time much intoxicated. As he was not in a situation to defend himself, there could have been no display of true courage in punishing him; and besides, he was already an object of pity. To his imbecile fury, therefore, I presented only a steady eye. He drew back. In a few minutes, however, he made another assault; and again yielded to a firm and silent aspect. A few hours after I met him in another place. His inebriety had, in a great measure, left him; he was very sorry for his conduct, and expressed towards me much good will.
I have observed, that I was seldom known; and as I appeared to be a person travelling in disguise, some pains were taken to ascertain who I was. The suggestions respecting me were very numerous; and a great many bets were made, and many expedients resorted to in relation to my origin, destination, and business. Some imagined me to be upon a secret expedition for the government. My manners seldom comporting with my mode of living, the multitude were at a loss to know to what class in society I belonged. They heard me converse like other people; but seldom saw me eat or drink, and were surprised to view me sleeping with my dogs upon the bare floor.
In my course through the upper part of the state of New-York, I spent many a pleasant evening, surrounded by a great variety of character, and seated [32] by a huge western fire. During these seasons some political question would often arise, and it was interesting to witnessthe debates. Upon one occasion a serious legal question, long agitated in the neighbourhood, was introduced; and being a limb of the law, I involuntarily made an observation upon it. Bets soon began to run high, and the Pedestrian was appointed umpire.
It is unpleasant for one to speak of himself.—Many anecdotes, which would be interesting to my friends, must be omitted.
In the course of a few days after leaving Waterloo, I passed through many towns, the principal of which are Romulus, Ovid, Hector, Ulysses, and Geneva; also Canandaigua, the two Bloomfields and Lima; and in addition to these Avon, Caledonia and Batavia.[56]Some of these towns, especially the two Bloomfields and Lima, constitute a remarkably handsome and rich tract of country.
Canandaigua is situated at the north of the lake of this name; and many of the buildings of this place are large and elegant. The lake is about eighteen or twenty miles long, and two or three miles broad.
But it would have been in order first to speak of Seneca lake, which lies east of lake Canandaigua. Seneca lake is about thirty-five miles long, and about two miles wide. The numerous lakes in the interior of the state of New-York, are admirably calculated to promote her inland commerce. Whilst they furnish by their numbers, and their positions the means of connecting her resources, and promoting the trade and intercourse of her people, they are not so large as to occupy an unnecessary portion of her territory. Every thing, in relation to New-York, is conspiring to render her a wonderfully powerful State.
[33] Whilst in Canandaigua the court was sitting; andowing to some novel proceedings there, one or two thousand people were assembled. After pressing through the crowd, and obtaining some information respecting my course, I proceeded on my way.
Not long after I formed a particular acquaintance with Doctor S. He introduced me to his family, and entertained me in a very hospitable and friendly manner. The Doctor, being no less fond of an innocent joke than he was conspicuous for his good sense and benevolence, proposed in the course of the evening, his introducing me to a shrewd old neighbour of his, as a relation who lived on some far distant mountain, and who had been long absent. I readily assented to the proposition, and we both agreed upon the parts which we were to act. Owing, however, to an unnatural performance on my part, or to some other cause, the neighbour detected the deception. But the assay resulted in considerable amusement; and after drinking to the health of each other, the Doctor and myself left the old gentleman to exult in his penetration.
At 3 o’clock the next morning, I was awakened by the rich and lofty notes of the bugle-horn, and entertained by several superb martial songs. At daylight we sat down to a good breakfast; and immediately after I resumed my march.
Amidst all these pleasant circumstances, my dogs had accidentally been neglected; and seeing their master fare so well, they at length took the liberty to help themselves. The larder of Mrs. S. being open, they espied there a large pan of baked pork and beans; and without ceremony,—or knife and fork divided the former between them; leaving the beans for those who were less carnivorous. After this broad hint on their part, the lady of the house fed them to their heart’s content.
[34] During my tour, thus far, I formed many valuable acquaintances.
Here I may remark that from Albany to the remote interior of New-York, there is, generally speaking, but little hospitality; and the love of money there displays itself in the high prices which are charged for provisions. Immense profits are realized by the retailer at the expense of the traveller. I have always noticed in my travels, that the newer a settlement is, the more prevalent is hospitality. This great virtue is much more conspicuous among the poor, than among those who possess more than a competency. Here avarice begins its reign; and every virtue is blasted by its poisonous influence.
In this part of the country, and in many other places I often found it convenient to stop at the log huts of poor emigrants. From the inmates of these huts I always experienced a kind and generous welcome; and in almost every case I ascertained that they were from New-Hampshire or Vermont.—They would generally refuse to take any compensation for their services; and were so afraid of violating the sacred principles of hospitality, that I could only leave my money upon their table, or cast it as a play thing to their children. Oh! how many tutelary angels shield the cot of the poor and virtuous man, whilst the splendid habitations of the rich and dissipated, receive only the averted eye of offended Heaven.
I have omitted to mention, that whilst in Albany I was informed that robberies had been frequently committed on the Western Turnpike. This information appeared peculiarly important, on account of the frequent suggestions of people that I probably had with me a large sum of money. Besides, war, which always produces a greater or less number of abandoned and desperate characters, having [35] recently ceased, and there being manydark and solitary tracts of wood on the turnpike, I thought there was much cause for apprehension. I had, however, previously concealed my money in different parts of my cloaths, and was careful to keep my arms in a state of preparation. Fortunately I met with no attack. The appearance of my arms, and the apparent fierceness of my dogs, were, probably, preventatives.
I was frequently told too, that owing to my mode of dress, there would be much danger of my being shot by the hunters in passing through the bushes. Many accidents, sanctioning the idea, had from time to time occurred. A hunter, not long before, had killed a deer, and throwing it upon his shoulder was proceeding home. Another hunter, having an obscure view of the deer through the bushes, fired and killed the man. I did not, however, experience any injury from this quarter.
Such was the depth of snow and such the severity of the weather during the first month of my tour, that no game was to be found in the woods excepting a few squirrels; and those only during a momentary sunshine. Numerous as had been the beasts of prey throughout the preceding fall, they seemed now to be waiting in their dens for the storms to be overpassed. All nature appeared to be congealed; and the tyrant winter presented an unrelenting aspect.
In the remote parts of the State of New-York provisions were scarce. There are so many emigrants travelling and settling in that quarter during winter, that want is frequently the consequence.—The emigrants, who settle during that season of the year, must be fed, for many months, from the common stock of provisions, before they can, by their labour, add to it. Some of them have money, but [36] money will not save them from want. Here we see the importance of the agricultural interest, and, generally, ofthe productive power of labour. Agriculture and domestic manufactures will render a people perfectly independent. Money is of no real consequence excepting when employed as a circulating medium; fancy however has cherished for it an irrational partiality. Thank Heaven! we have no considerable mines of silver and gold to corrupt our country; but plenty of iron to plough her fields and to defend her liberties.
Agriculture is the most natural, necessary, and honourable employment of man. Ignorant pride and vain folly may represent it as derogatory; but in so doing they show how very far they are from true greatness. Agriculture furnishes for vigorous constitutions the most salutary exercise; and here the brightest geniuses may find ample employment.—An unlimited field for experiment in many branches of natural philosophy is here presented, and there is no sphere in life so well calculated as this to promote individual virtue and public advantage.
Here man is engaged in the peculiar work assigned him by his Creator, and many interesting reflections naturally result from it. The field which he cultivates is his parent earth. According to the righteous appointment of Heaven, he must here obtain his bread by the sweat of his brow, until he returns to the dust. The employment naturally directs his thoughts to his origin and destinies; and impresses his mind with a sense of his mortality, dependence, and accountability to God. Here too he reflects, with peculiar advantage, upon the gracious plan of Redemption. The return of spring joyfully reminds him of the Resurrection; and in the perishing grain which he has sown, he recognizes St. Paul’s similitude of this great event.
[37] The further a man’s employment is from rural scenes and avocations, the further he is from the original dignity and simplicity of his nature. Here may be acquired thegreatest comparative degree of physical and mental vigour, the noblest virtues, the truest piety, the most sincere and ardent patriotism, the loftiest independence of character, and all the pleasures which flow from the sprightliness of the imagination and the susceptibility of the heart.
The great and good of every age have spoken in behalf of agriculture; and the Egyptians ascribed the discovery of it to their gods. The worthies of Greece and Rome were well acquainted with the plough; and Cincinnatus left his team, vanquished the Æqui and Volsci, who were besieging the Roman army, and then returned to his beloved employment. Our Washington too, charmed his pure and noble spirit with the rural occupations of his endeared Vernon; and the Emperor of China attends, every spring, to the ceremony of opening the ground, by holding the plough himself.
In my course to Niagara Falls I passed Genesee river. This river rises in Pennsylvania, and enters Lake Ontario about eighty miles east of Niagara river. It contains several falls, from fifty to one hundred feet in height, and offers many fine seats for mills. This river, and those which are connected with it are generally sluggish in their motion.
The tract of country lying upon the Genessee is rich, and well watered. The celebrated Genessee Flats are situated on the borders of the river, and is about twenty miles by four.
The Holland Purchase is a part of the Genessee Country.[57]
Although I have not yet surveyed the whole field of domestic emigration, I may, with propriety, introduce in this place some ideas which I [38] have heretofore entertained upon the subject; these ideas having been fully sanctioned by the experience of my whole tour. Thesubject should be examined both in a national and individual point of view.
Supposing, for a moment, that my reflections upon this topic may produce some effect upon the feelings and opinions of those who are disposed to emigrate, there is little or no danger of lessening the interests of the nation, in relation to it, by checking too much the existing locomotive disposition of the people.
Dear as home is to man, he is, in his best estate, a wanderer. An alien from the purity and peace of Heaven, he will sigh for other scenes until his highest hopes eventuate in a habitation there.
Upon this general disposition of mankind to change their views of happiness and their place of residence, the people of the United States have engrafted an unusual degree of enterprise. This enterprise has at once enriched and ennobled their country. Naturally fond of agriculture, and fully sensible of its consequence, both in a public and private point of view, our citizens have combined, in relation to this subject, the powerful influences of inclination, interest, and patriotism. But the impulse to emigration under these circumstances may have been too great. When a spring naturally overflows, the superabundance of its water may well be spared to fertilize the adjacent country; but when some extraordinary influence produces an ebullition in the spring, it may, in consequence of this cause, exhaust its own resources and ultimately become dry.
Extraordinary causes, in relation to those subjects which concern the growth of a nation, should always be watched and sometimes checked. Under ordinary circumstances the natural operation of cause and effect will keep every thing within its proper [39] sphere,—will direct every thing to its proper level.
With respect to emigrations from our seaboard to the inland states and territories, there is danger of the strength of the nation being, for a time, lessened. The physical force of a country should always be kept compact. By dividing its powers its energies will be weakened.
Such, with us, has been the impetus of the spirit of emigration, that the influence of example and habit, in relation to it, will continue to operate for some time to come. Indeed such is the fascinating nature of the subject, that it will always be more or less popular; and as to the habit of moving from place to place, it is, in some, so completely fixed, that after they have passed through every part of the land of promise, they will, for the sake of one more change, return to the seaboard again. In a national point of view I am far from wishing to discourage domestic emigration; and I am far too from thinking that it does not frequently result in individual advantage.
It is essential to the preservation of our free and economical institutions, that the seaboard should from time to time transplant a part of its population to the interior. The existence of liberty in a state ultimately depends, in no small degree, upon rural avocations, and upon a particular climate and scenery. In some of our western states and territories liberty will exist for a great length of time. Transplanted from the seaboard, their citizens will acquire a new moral force, and that force will be cherished by the local peculiarities of their situation. These states will produce a happy balance between the agricultural and commercial interests, and prove at once the check and the political salvation of the maratime states.
[40] In proportion to the population of our maratime cities will be their luxury, dissipation, and indifference to simple and rational modes of government. No doubt the interests of commerce ought to be cherished; not, however,so much because they are essential to our independence and happiness, as because they encourage industry at home by furnishing a foreign market for surplus produce. The other advantages of foreign trade, both literary and commercial, are not inconsiderable; and they ought to be appreciated:—but not without a due reference to the contaminating influences of foreign manners and customs. With respect to manners and customs, other nations, in their intercourse with us, are, no doubt, gainers; but we, I am satisfied, experience from them much injury. It may be added, that a certain extent of population in our sea ports is essential to that degree of commercial enterprise, which will set afloat our surplus capital; and therefore we ought to view the spirit of emigration in relation to this particular.
I may improve this opportunity to make a few additional reflections upon foreign commerce. The advocates of this interest, under the pretence of attaching to it a consequence only equal to that of agriculture, have laboured to prove that the former is even paramount to the latter,—that the country is almost exclusively a commercial nation. One of these advocates, in a speech delivered in Congress in January 1814, advances such a principle. Much as I admire the sublime complexion of his intellect, and the enlightened majesty of his heart, I must say that his position is altogether exceptionable.—He observes, in the above mentioned speech, that theprincipalmotive for adopting the constitution of the general government was the protection and extension of commerce. So far from this being the [41] case, the great and principal conditions and objects of our national compact, were individual security and the advancement of the true interests of the country. It must have been well known, that a state of things might exist which would render anabandonment of foreign commerce absolutely necessary to the preservation of our liberties,—to the protection of individual right, and even the very existence of the nation.
But I go much further. Our commercial interests are of far less consequence than those of agriculture. The former are not essential to our independence and comfort. They do not even exist until agriculture has so far advanced as to furnish more than sufficient provisions for the support of the whole community; not only for those who labour in agriculture, but also for labourers in manufactures and other mechanical employments; for those who are engaged in domestic commerce; for those who are engaged in promoting intellectual improvement; and lastly, for those who, owing to infancy, old age, disease and other causes are unable to work. When this state of things commences, and not before, foreign commerce begins its career. Here the people inquire what they shall do with their surplus produce, and being unable to find a market for it at home, endeavour to find for it a foreign market. Hence arise foreign commercial relations. As to the luxuries which foreign commerce produces, our constitution certainly never made provision for their introduction.
It remains for me to notice the subject of domestic emigration, in relation to the individual advantage which may arise from it.
The views of mankind with respect to the sources of true happiness are, generally speaking, very erroneous. This effect arises principally from inconsideration. [42] We see enough in the Divine Word in the book of nature, and in the suggestions of conscience to convince us, that our relation to a future state of existence is of wonderful import. The first questions which we should ask ourselvesare:—what was the design of our creation? and what duties does this design inculcate? As far as is consistent with these great views, man may innocently consult his inclinations. Indeed they were given for the twofold purpose of rational gratification, and to furnish him with an opportunity, when their indulgence would be irrational, to display his virtue by self controul. The more strictly we conform to that purity of heart and holiness of life which the gospel inculcates, the more exalted will be our nature, the higher our standard of happiness, and the more perfect our preparation for the society of Heaven.
The present life is, no doubt, a season of probation. Here we are to form a character for a future and permanent state of existence. Consistently with the endeavour duly to improve our intellectual, moral, and religious nature, it is important for man to exert himself to obtain a comfortable support. Generally speaking, however, this should be the limit of his views. It is most consistent with the uncertain tenure of human life, and most congenial to the growth of virtue and the production of happiness. A wish to acquire a great estate can be sanctioned only by an equal desire to employ it in effecting charitable purposes, and in aiding institutions which have in view individual and public advantage. The desire of great wealth for other purposes is criminal. It is dictated by a spirit of luxury, by pride, by extravagance, by a spirit of vain competition, or, what is worse than all, by avarice. As for leaving great estates to children, no wise or kind parent will ever do it. Industry will, generally speaking, produce a [43] competency; and economy will, in time, convert that competency into wealth.
But I must speak more directly to the point.—From motives of patriotism one may emigrate from the east tothe west, especially to a frontier state or territory; and he will, perhaps, find in this removal great individual profit. The circumstances of men are various. Emigrations are sometimes advantageous and sometimes otherwise;—advantageous in point of health and in point of property. Many, however, lose both instead of gaining either by a removal. There are many erroneous views entertained upon this subject: and it is, principally, because men are governed, in relation to it, more by feelings than by ideas. The subject interests the imagination; and pleasing anticipations upon a new topic, always afford more satisfaction, than the actual possession of that which is as valuable as the object itself, the future possession of which is anticipated. Many persons by emigration have become rich; but does it follow that they might not have become so at home? Many too by moving from place to place have become poor. Had they been stationary they might at least have secured to themselves a competency. There are almost innumerable advantages and disadvantages in relation to this subject, and the balance must be stricken according to the circumstances of each individual. Those whose object is to acquire a good living by their industry, and who can obtain this at home, will act unwisely in changing their situation. They cannot more fully gratify their views by a removal: and by such a step they abandon what is necessary and certain for what is at once unnecessary and precarious. They might, perhaps, obtain abroad, with less labour, what they now obtain at home; but they are not aware how essential industry is to their happiness. [44] It gives a zest to food, and sleep, and social intercourse; and also furnishes substantial rest;—a luxury of which the idle are ignorant. Some have been so imprudent as to abandon the home of their infancy, where the comforts of life could have beenobtained by a good degree of industry. What were the consequences? perhaps wealth;—but it was unnecessary;—perhaps poverty, disease and premature death. Some too, even in advanced life, and after spending their time in clearing a tract of land, so as to render it fertile and easy of cultivation, have sacrificed a comfortable and pleasant old age for new perils and labours in the western wilds.
The great complaint of the people of the east is, that their agricultural labours are great and their crops small. This declaration is, in some degree, correct; but its truth arises, principally, from our cultivating too much land. And yet we are ready to make great sacrifices for the purpose of obtaining vast tracts in the west. It is admitted that the land of the west is, generally speaking, more fertile than ours; but it does not follow that it will always be so, or that ours may not be rendered sufficiently fertile. New land is always most productive. It has been enriching itself for ages. But its fertility will, upon being cultivated, become less. We see the truth of these remarks in the cultivation of our own new lands. But I will not conceal the fact, that the western lands are naturally more fertile than those of the east. Some of the former are almost inexhaustibly rich; but others of them will, in time, become poor; and then will not be so easily rendered fertile as those of the east. The eastern land too is stronger, more durable, retains moisture longer, and of course more easily preserves its fertility. This is particularly the case in its comparison with the land of Kentucky. That State is exposed [45] to great drouth. Its pan being limestone, and its soil consisting of loam, but little rain is imbibed, and that little is soon lost through the pores of the limestone, and by evaporation. To the great quantities of limestone in Kentucky, its caves and petrefactionsare to be attributed. Moisture is absolutely necessary to vegetation. The richest land without it is entirely unproductive. Upon this principle it is decidedly injurious to deprive land of its small stones. They not only cause it to retain moisture; but, by keeping it light, enable it to receive much rain. They also render the earth warm, and admit into it the necessary quantity of air. By depriving land of its stones the earth falls into a solid mass, and the consequence is, that it imbibes but a small portion of rain. The stones of our fields should be rolled in as soon as the grain is sowed. On the surface they will be useless, and very troublesome.
I have suggested, that we cultivate too much land to render agriculture profitable. I speak in relation to the means which we employ for fertilizing our land. Much may be done without the aid of manure; but the use of this article is the most ready and efficient mode of rendering the cultivation of the earth profitable. Instead, however, of increasing this article by compost, we misapply that which is incident to our farms. By spreading a small quantity of manure upon a large piece of poor land, it is almost entirely lost; in as much as it remains in an inactive state. There is not a sufficient quantity to give an impetus to the cold and barren earth with which it is mixed. This is one great cause of poor crops; and the great surface over which the labour of the husbandman is spread is the principal ground of the excessive labour of which he complains. Should the farmer plough [46] only as much land as he could highly manure, his labour would be comparatively small, his crops great, and his land constantly improving. By this mode of proceeding the crops would not exhaust the land; and the quantity of manure upon it, beyond what is necessary to the production of the crops, would, by its fermentation, fertilize and renderof the nature of compost the whole cultivated surface. Such land may, with a trifling expense, be kept very rich. Whilst this process is operating upon a part of the poor lands of a farm, the residue of them may lie fallow, or be fertilized by ploughing in such green crops as may be produced upon a lean soil.
The extraordinary means of enriching land are numerous. A little reflection upon the most common principles of philosophy will point them out. The elements, acting upon each other, are constantly producing effects, and the latter operate as causes in the production of effects more remote. Different soils, and different manures, and different crops must all be connected according to their respective and relative natures.
The materials for making compost upon a farm are almost innumerable; and leisure hours, which would otherwise be lost, may be employed in collecting them. Another extraordinary mean of fertilizing the earth is frequent ploughing. This work, especially when performed at particular times, is highly useful. It separates the unproductive masses, and opens the soil more fully to the impregnations of that vegetable nourishment which is contained in rain, dew, and even the air itself. Ploughing land when the dew is on the ground is very beneficial. I may add, that the ploughing in of stubble as soon as the crops are off, is of much consequence.
[47] Wet land should be drained, and, when practicable, land comparatively high should be overflown. The soil of the former should, in some cases, be spread upon the latter; and that of the latter applied in the same way upon the former. Overflowing may sometimes be employed conveniently and to much advantage.
I have said that moisture is absolutely necessary to vegetation. This country is rather subject to drouth thanotherwise; and hence, principally, arises the occasional failure of our crops. One cause of the great fertility of England is the frequent rains there. With us there is more rain than in Great-Britain; but in the latter place it falls, not in torrents as is sometimes the case with us, but in gentle and more frequent showers. Wet seasons are never unfruitful.
Another mode of rendering land productive is by a change of crops. Different plants require a different kind of nourishment, and a piece of land may contain a greater quantity of one kind of vegetable food than of another. All crops, in a greater or less degree, consume, in time, their peculiar food; and of course require a change of situation. To make this change, among the variety of crops on a farm, with judgment, requires both theoretical and practical knowledge in husbandry.
A change of seed also is of consequence. Seed carried from the north to the south, and likewise from the east to the west will do better than that which comes from a milder climate. Sowing seed upon the ground which produced it is highly disadvantageous. By a change of seed the action of the soil upon it is more animated. Improvement of seed too in agriculture is of consequence. That which is first ripe and most perfect should be selected; [48] and the mode of preserving it requires attention.
With respect to the raising of cattle too we act as unwisely as we do in relation to the cultivation of our land. According to the limited productions of our farms, our cattle are too numerous. We lose one half of the food appropriated for them, by applying it to too great a number. In many cases our cattle are not worth so much in the spring of the year as they were in the preceding fall. Our swine, in particular, are kept poor untilthe crops come in, and then it costs to fatten them three times as much as they are worth: the consequence is that the farmer, before another fall, complains of his want of corn.
Great improvements may be made in relation to the breed and feeding of cattle. A change of stock is as important here as in agriculture. It may also be observed, that present profit is too frequently consulted at the expense of ultimate loss. The farmer sells all his best cattle to the butcher, or kills them for his own use, before their real value is suffered to develope itself, and to eventuate in the improvement of his stock.
The agricultural societies established in New-England, and in other states of the Union, within a few years, have produced much individual and public benefit. That of Massachusetts is rendering her, with respect to this subject, the rival of Great-Britain. New-Hampshire is doing something in this way; and her legislature should immediately encourage her agricultural interests.
As to the means of increasing our crops, much more might be offered; but the nature of this work will not warrant it. Although many of our farmers do well, all might do better; and it cannot be denied that many of us are very negligent agriculturalists. How many of our lands are [49] ploughed only once, and that very imperfectly!—How many of our pastures are injured by the promiscuous range of swine, geese, and every other creature on a farm! How many of our orchards are left for years uncultivated and unpruned! How many of our mowing fields are, both in the spring and fall, shamefully poached and grubbed by horses and sheep, as well as horned cattle! How much neglect is there in the collection of fodder, and how much waste in the application of it! With us there are many errors to be corrected, and many improvementsto be made. This topic is important, interesting, and exhaustless; but I must dismiss it, after making a very few additional remarks. As to our orchards, and the grazing of our mowing fields in the spring, I trust that we shall speedily abandon practices which are so disgraceful and so injurious. The most vigorous roots of grass shoot first. Those our cattle crop. The future growth is feeble; and grass, which springs after the season for it, is always puny. With respect to our orchards, we seem to think that they require no cultivation; that we have only to set down the trees, and all will be well: but the nature of things should convince us of the irrationality of our views upon this point. Trees require manuring and cultivating as much as any other plant.
I return to the comparison between the east and the west. However high may be the reputation of [50] the western lands, they are decidedly inferior to ours, as a grazing country. Another advantage which we possess over the west is, the superiority of our market. There is a much greater disproportion between the prices, than between the crops of the two sections of the country. Our crops are something less; but the prices which we obtain for our produce are much higher than those of the west. As to the prices too, of many articles, such as clothing and groceries, the advantage is with us; the people of the west being obliged to pay for the expense of transportation, and also the profits of the western retailer.
In point of health, the air of the west is not so salubrious as that of the east. The country being still covered with forests, its streams are noxious; and being too, a level country, its evaporations are great. These circumstances produce diseases of a peculiar and fatal nature. Our mountains are entirely free from them.
With respect to religious privileges, morals, means ofeducation, and social intercourse, the west is at present, and will be for some time to come, far inferior to the east.
As to relations and friends, which emigrants frequently leave behind them, every one will judge for himself; but surely to a disinterested and susceptible heart, this sacrifice is not inconsiderable. When persons of this cast of character reflect upon the fleeting nature of time, its vicissitudes, and the need which they frequently feel of the society and solace of their friends, they will wish to spend with them the days of their pilgrimage, to participate with them in the little joys of life, and to commune together upon the hopes of a better world.
In concluding my reflections upon the subject of emigration, I may observe that in no case is it necessary [51] for the people of the east to emigrate to the western country. There is in the former an ample field for labour; and the reward of this labour is sufficient for every rational purpose of life. Whilst men complain of labour, they add to it by speculating upon foreign means of enjoyment, when at the same time they possess every source of happiness, excepting gratitude and contentment. Many persons, by extravagance, become embarrassed, and then censure the times, and complain of their lot instead of applying to industry and economy for relief. Economy will perform wonders. Nothing is more true than the adage that a penny saved is a penny earned. The state of things, for several years past, has been teaching us a salutary lesson upon this subject; and all can now live within their income without wounding their pride. In economising, however, we must avoid parsimony, which soon leads to avarice—the source of all crime, and all littleness.
I have already written much; but, according to my journal, it is still February, I have progressed only withinsixty miles of the Heights of Queenstown, and the storms of winter still rage.
In my course through the western parts of the state of New-York, I generally travelled within forty miles of Lake Ontario. In this part of the country many of the people entertain strange notions respecting supernatural agencies. Solitude, whilst it strengthens the mind, and fortifies the heart of the well informed, renders the ignorant timid and superstitious. The whisper of their forests, and the echo of their hills, alarm their unenlightened imaginations. Those inhabitants of the west, of whom I am now speaking, believe in witchcraft, and often suppose it the source of disease both in man and beast. Whilst on the borders of Ontario, I stopped for a few moments at a log hut where there was a man in a convulsion [52] fit. During the operation of the malady, my attention was attracted by the conversation of two young women upon the subject. One of them observed that if a garment of the man should be taken off and thrown into the fire, the fit would leave him, and never again return. The other assented to the idea; but the prescription was not attended to. Perhaps they were afraid of being bewitched themselves. It is a very common idea too, in the remote parts of New-York, that if a man should shoot an owl with his rifle, it would be rendered so crooked as never to throw ball true again.
I may here say a word of the backwoodsmen. They are hardy, active, industrious, and in the employment of the axe, wonderfully strong and dexterous. But, with respect to manners, some of them are no less rude than the wilds which they inhabit.
The upper part of the state of New-York is, comparatively, a wilderness. There are here many Indian reserves. They are solitary places; they are dark spots onthe face of civilization. The tawny inhabitants of these gloomy forests generally establish themselves in the most remote situations, and render the access to them indirect and difficult. Whenever I entered their villages, they seemed, by their manner towards each other, to say: “This civil wretch has found out our retreat.” There is a shyness and wildness in their aspect, no less significant than such a declaration. No cause of wonder is it, that these persecuted beings look with a jealous eye upon the descendants of those Europeans, who drove their ancestors from the pleasant regions of the east. They see no end to the avarice, the claims, or the progress of white men; and view themselves between the horrors of civilization, and the illimitable expanse of the Pacific ocean.
[53] Barbarous as are the Indians of North America, they possess much greatness, and many virtues. Considering their prejudices against us, which prejudices are incident to their education, and by no means groundless, they evince much forbearance, and even friendship towards us.
Near one of the Indian reserves, I met five of these children of nature. As I had not seen one for fifteen years before, I was much interested in their appearance. In approaching them I presented a grave but friendly aspect. Their gravity at first exceeded mine, but they soon became rather sociable. After some little conversation we parted, not, however, until they had taken much notice of my “varm drase.” In the course of a few hours, I passed what is called an Indian opening. It was an exposed situation of many miles in extent; the weather was severe, the snow deep, and the wind continually whirled it about the unsheltered traveller.
Not knowing the extent of this opening, and fearing that night might find me without fuel, or materials for a tent, I exerted myself to reach in season, the adjoiningwood. By this means I became fatigued, and very much in want of refreshment. I had no provisions with me, and indeed no means of carrying any. I soon perceived, in the edge of the forest, a small log hut; but poverty resided there, and I could obtain only an ear of corn; this, however, I found palatable and nutritious. Dyonysius[58]did not like the fare of the public tables, under the institutions of Lycurgus, because, as the cook said, it was not seasoned with fatigue and hunger. Towards evening, as I was travelling through a dark wood, I discovered what I presumed to be an Indian trail, and, for the sake of adventure, concluded to follow it. It snowed fast, darkness was approaching, and [54] the wilderness presented a dreary aspect. Had not my heart been afraid of me, it would have communicated a secret alarm to my imagination, and then I should have seen around me a thousand ambuscades. But I had so often crieddownto its contemptible obtrusiveness, that it feigned, at least, a tranquil mood.
The snow was deep, and the track exceedingly serpentine; so that I seemed, occasionally, to be travelling back to the point at which I commenced the adventure. It, however, finally led me over a gradual descent into a dark plain. The first evidence which I had of there being human habitations here, was a few sticks of recently cut wood piled above the snow. Soon after, I heard the distant bay of dogs. At length I came in open view of a large collection of wigwams. It was now, however, so dark, and it snowed so fast, that I could only see obscurely the objects which presented themselves. But upon going nearer, my attention was arrested by the appearance of many Indians, going in their blankets, from several of the huts to a long and low building, whichI afterwards ascertained was their council house. Thinking that I should here have a good opportunity to see many of the Indians together, I knocked at the door, lifted the latch, and entered. I made a slight bow, and took off my cap. They presented me, in return, a serious and unmoved aspect, but offered me a seat. Soon after, I thought that I perceived in them some degree of timidity. They had, within a few days, been performing some religious ceremonies, and were, probably, unusually superstitious. They had been wearing masks, for the purpose of driving the evil spirit from their village; and, perhaps, they began to think that they had not affected their object. I endeavoured, however, to render my society agreeable [55] to them. When I entered the council house, there were about fifty or sixty persons there. The building was about eighty feet long, and about twelve or fourteen wide. Across the beams overhead were several poles, hanging from which were some traces of mouldy corn; and on each side of the building were benches for seats. There was no floor to the house, and at each end of it there was, upon the ground, a large council fire. At a little distance from these, there were two parties engaged in a war-dance. This is a custom which these Indians will not relinquish. Some of them were naked, and many of them covered with ornaments. They wore strings of trinkets around their ankles, the object of which appeared to be to produce music in dancing. They also had much jewelry in their ears and noses. In their war dances, they imitate every part of an engagement: the onset, retreat of the enemy, pursuit, &c. Here the young warrior acquires a martial spirit, and the love of fame; and here too the aged veteran reminds his tribe of what he has done, and of what his spirit tells him he could do again. During the dances, I was much interested in the appearance of ayouth, a son of a chief, whose zeal for his nation caused him, in the feigned pursuit of the enemy, to leap over the prescribed circle of the dance, into the fire. An old and decrepit chief too, here evinced no less devotion to his country. His appearance excited admiration and pity. He was emaciated by disease, scarred in battle, and bent with the weight of years. He evinced in his efforts the greatest energy of spirit, whilst such was his decrepitude that he could not lift his eyes from the ground. His trinkets rattled upon his aged limbs, and his wheezing lungs sounded in his hollow trunk. Poor child of nature!—Heaven careth for thee!
[56] The dances commenced with the beat of an old kettle drum, and was ended by a rap with a club upon one of the benches. At the conclusion of each dance one of the chiefs addressed the company, and passed a piece of tobacco as a token, which they understood much better than myself.
In the course of an hour or two after I left this scene of war, I entered one of the huts. Many came here to see me, and seemed desirous to know from whence I came, whither I was going, &c. A few of them could imperfectly speak English. An old chief attracted, by his ugliness, my particular attention. He was about sixty years of age; his skin was coarse and shrivelled, his face was covered with scars, one of his eyes was protuberant, bloodshot and sightless, and his hair was matted by thick red paint, having the appearance of blood. Some of the men were likely, the old women squalid, and the young ones uninteresting. The children, however, were pretty.
It is said that the Indians of North America treat their wives with coldness and neglect; but I am of a different opinion. Certain it is that their affection towards their offspring is lively and tender.
After taking some refreshment I laid down upon deer skins, by a good fire, and slept well. I trusted to my dogs for security. In the morning I feasted upon venison, and conversed with several of the Indians upon a variety of subjects, particularly upon the good will which ought to prevail among mankind, without any reference to a difference of complexion. The Indians were very desirous of obtaining my dogs, and would have given me a very high price for them. I did not know but that they might wish me out of the way, for the purpose of procuring them.
[57] The appearance of the village is interesting. It is situated upon a plain, and contains about one hundred huts. Through the centre of the village runs a narrow serpentine creek, which affords, in summer, an abundance of fish. On one side of the plain is a thicket of bushes, and on the other a pleasant rise of land. The name of the Creek is Tonewanto, and that of the tribe Tondanwandeys.[59]
Although in some little degree civilized, with respect to arts, this tribe are still deplorably superstitious. Once a year they sacrifice two white dogs to their deity, after painting them, decorating them with ribbons, and dancing around them. The sacrifice consists in burning the dogs, and scattering their ashes to the winds. The ceremonies generally continue fourteen days, and end in a feast.
The Tondanwandeys worship the sun, and also bury their dead in the morning, that the deceased persons may have time before night to reach their relations in another world. In the grave they place the clothes, pipe, dish,spoon, &c. of the deceased, thinking that they will be wanted in a future state. Over the graves of their friends these Indians make a hideous howl. This tribe detest lying and stealing; and those who are innocent of these crimes are supposed to go to their relations in a better world, where there is a milder sky and plenty of game.—Those, on the contrary, who are guilty of these offences, wander from place to place, and seek their friends in vain. These are their ideas of future rewards and punishments.
The Tondanwandeys are much troubled with the supposed existence of witchcraft; and not long since they burned one of their women upon the suspicion of her possessing such power.
We need not go to the Islands of the Pacific Ocean for singular manners and customs. We find [58] them here, and it is evident that the manners and customs of all uncivilized countries are, in many particulars, very similar. Some of them are dictated by nature, some arise from accident, and some are the effect of tradition.
Notwithstanding the ignorance of the Tondanwandeys, in one particular they leave civilized men far behind them: they will not suffer any spirituous liquors to be brought into their village. This is an instance of policy and self-denial of which even Sparta might have been proud.
The language of these Indians appears very much like that of the savage tribes of the North-West Coast of America. Most of their sounds are either guttural or nasal; but principally the former. Their voice in conversation is unpleasant; and particularly so in singing. The tones of the women, however, are soft and agreeable.
The language of this tribe contains but a few simple words; they therefore express new ideas by combinations of terms, connected with such gestures, and other accompanimentsof speech, as comport with the real or fancied nature of the subject.
It is not uncommon for these Indians to travel fifty leagues from home for the purpose of hunting. They employ the principal part of the summer in the chase. In autumn they again engage in the business. This is their most important season, on account of the greater relative value of furs. During the winter they return home, laden with peltry, smoaked flesh of various kinds, and the fat of bears. Last season they were very successful.
In hunting, Indians are exceedingly industrious and indefatigable; but in every other employment they are very indolent. It is probably owing to the latter circumstance, that they suffer their women to be the hewers of wood, and the performers of other servile work among them. From this practice has, [59] probably, arisen the idea, that Indians treat their wives with severity.
The belief of the Tondanwandeys, relative to a future state, is very simple and interesting. The death of friends is one of the greatest trials of life; and is calculated to produce the happiest influence upon the human heart. It alienates our affections from this world, and directs them to the happy abode of departed spirits. The desire of meeting our friends in a better state of existence renders Heaven doubly dear to us; and combines at once the tenderness of affection, the hope of glory, and the fear of God. The poor Indian fears nothing so much as the permanent loss of his friends; and finding them in a better world constitutes, with him, the bliss of Heaven.
I continued at the Indian village until about noon of the next day. Before leaving it, I purchased a pair of deerskin moccasons. It having snowed the preceding night, my path through the wood was obliterated. After travelling a mile or two I became completely bewildered; andalthough I had a pocket compass with me, I thought it best to return to the village, and obtain some directions from the Indians; but as it was still snowing fast, my track in this direction could not, at length, be distinguished from the impression made by masses of snow, falling from the trees. I am unable to do justice to the solitude of my situation. It was profound and instructive. The force of thought and luxury of sentiment, which the wilderness inspires, is indiscribable. Here man feels, at once, humble and exalted.Silence, with a voice of thunder, maintains the cause of virtue, and the human soul experiences the tranquil ardour of immortal hopes.
Much exertion at length brought me to the place where, the evening before, I noticed the Indian [60] path. Having been plunging through the snow for some time, without taking any notice of my dogs, I found, when I stopped to rest, that one of them was missing. After waiting some time for his arrival, I went back about two miles, and found, him lying in the snow. As soon as I had come within a few rods of him, he arose and ran further from me, but at the same time appeared desirous of convincing me of his devotion, by smiles, and the wagging of his tail. By his manner he seemed to say: I wish to be faithful, but I am weary, and see no end to our travel. Lameness, however, was the cause of his discouragement. It appeared, that one of his feet was frozen.
In the course of a day or two from this time, I arrived in the neighbourhood of the Tuscarora Indians. They are situated on a ridge of hills, leading to which there are several very romantic passes. I visited them early in the morning. At this time the weather was very cold, and there was no path through the deep snow excepting some imperfect tracks made by themselves. In clambering up these hills, walking on the narrow footing of their sides,and supporting myself by the little bushes which had grown from the veins of the rocks, my mind dwelt upon Switzerland, and I almost imagined myself a Chamois hunter.
When I had come within view of the village, several Indians were about their wigwams, but upon seeing me, they all entered them, and shut the doors. The Tuscaroras, as well as the Tondanwandeys, had been sacrificing their dogs, and wearing their masks, and their imaginations, no doubt, were rather lively. But whatever may have been their impressions concerning me, they appeared, at first, very inhospitable. I went to the door of one of the huts, into which I saw several Indians enter, and knocked; [61] but all was silence. Not wishing to be obtrusive, I then went to another; and here, too, all was silence. I knew not what to make of these appearances, and thought that the Indians might be preparing to shoot me through the door; but feeling that I had, in a state of nature, at least animperfectright to seek under one of their roofs a resting place or a drink of water, I opened the door and walked in. There were here several Indians, and they all appeared timid. By my manner, however, I soon convinced them of my pacific disposition; and they, at length, became a little sociable.
There is a missionary among the Tuscaroras; but I understand that he meets with much opposition from them. They, like other unchristianized men, point to the bad conduct of many of those, who have always possessed the light of revelation.—This argument is plausible; and, to them, it appears conclusive. In fact, however, it is very unsound. There are individuals among this tribe, who threaten the most bloody destruction upon those of their nation, who shall embrace the christian religion.
I may add, that we expect too much from savages, in relation to this subject. Before we attempt to make christians of them, we ought to make them rational men: we ought first to persuade them to adopt the manners and customs of civilization: we ought first to teach them the elements of literature. By these means their minds would become so enlarged and strengthened, as to enable them to understand the most plain and simple truths of the gospel; and in understanding they would appreciate them.
In endeavouring to instruct savages in religion without taking these previous steps, little or no success can rationally be expected. The narrowness of their views prevents them from understanding the force of its precepts; and therefore they will prefer [62] their own superstitions to what they consider ours. Savages, with respect to this subject, should be treated like little children; their letters should first be taught them, and then their catechism:—