For the Southern Literary Messenger.
The study of poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward: it has soothed my afflictions; it has refined and multiplied my enjoyments; it has given me (or at least strengthened in me) the habit of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me—Coleridge.
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For the Southern Literary Messenger.
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POEMS BY A COLLEGIAN, Charlottesville, Va. Published by C. P. McKennie. Printed by D. Deans & Co. 1833.
A neat and unpretending volume of poems, with the above title, was issued last year from the Charlottesville press. As a Virginia productionaltogether, and the first fruits of poetical genius, emanating from the University of Virginia, the collection deserves honorable mention in the pages of the Southern Literary Messenger.
Criticism might be disarmed of some of its wonted severity, when it is known that all the poems contained in this volume, were written by the author between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. This fact, however, only increases our favorable opinion of his talents, and induces us to estimate still higher his natural powers of mind.
We propose, instead of an analysis of the volume before us, and a regular review of its contents, to extract specimens of thePOETRY, which struck us as displaying that fire of genius so necessary to constitute a truePOET. Our readers we are sure will agree with us in the favorable opinion we have expressed, after they have perused these specimens.
One of the best and most spirited of the poems, is the Address to Constantinople on its anticipated fall, written on receiving intelligence that the Russian army was on its march to that capital in 1829. We give the two first stanzas.
The energy of the language and the appropriateness of the figures, appear to us worthy of high praise.
We have several beautiful descriptions of calm and quiet scenery. What follows, contrasts admirably with the lines we have just quoted.
There is much of that highly romantic and poetical imagery in this, which must please every reader of taste. A stanza of similar style is in the lines to page 32.
And this at page 82.
There is much, too, in the following lines, which comes over the senses "like the sweet south."
We were pleased with the lines to ——, commencing thus:
The poem, with which the volume opens, "To My Country," contains many brilliant passages;—and throughout the work, the reader will linger at almost every page to dwell upon something which must please his fancy. Indeed the extracts that we intended to have made have so multiplied upon our hands, that we have not now space to give place to them all. We trust, however, that what we have given will suffice not only to show that our own opinions are correct, but to bring the public, and especially the Virginia public, better acquainted with the author and his work. In a future number we may adorn the columns of the Messenger with further extracts from thePOEMS BY A COLLEGIAN.
In the preface, the author states that his motive for preserving his poems in their present form, was his desire "to leave among those who have taken an interest in his welfare, and with whom he has been in habits of daily intercourse, a slight memorial of himself, ere more important duties urge their claims to consideration." We know that his Alma Mater will always be proud of such a son, and that his friends, with him, under her instruction will long cherish the "memorial." A favorable opinion of it will, however, not be confined to them alone. A discerning public will see and appreciate its excellence.
MY NATIVE LAND, AND OTHER POEMS. By Frederick Speece. Philadelphia: Printed for Augustine Leftwich, Lynchburg, Virginia. 1832.
Having been obligingly furnished with a copy of these poems, we take pleasure in introducing them to the notice of the public. We are somewhat surprised to learn that although published two years since in Lynchburg, they have attracted no notice in that quarter, either of applause or censure. It is perhaps, more agreeable to an author, that his works should come under the lash of satire, than that they should pass altogether without observation. The chilling neglect of the public however, furnishes no stronger proof of a writer's demerit, than do the too frequent carpings of illiberal criticism. Some of the greatest poets have been doomed whilst living, to indigence and obscurity, and owe all their honors to posthumous fame; and it is asserted of Homer especially, that seven cities claimed the honor of his birth, not one of which perhaps would have furnished a morsel to save him from starving.
We design not to raise extravagant expectations respecting Mr. Speece's poems—nor can we hazard the conjecture that the praise of future times will compensate him for contemporary injustice. We do not hesitate however, to recommend his work as incomparably superior to much of that glittering trash which passes under the name of poetry. There is a vein of good sense,—of just and honest feeling—of tender melancholy—and sometimes of rich imagination—which runs through his volume, and which cannot fail to delight such readers as have any soul for poetical composition. His versification for the most part, is sweet and melodious—though occasionally there is a little inattention to syllabick quantity, which produces rather an unpleasant effect upon the ear. There are other faults too—but they are inconsiderable when compared with the many redeeming beauties which shine through the volume. The poem of "My Native Land," in its general tone and harmony of verse, brings to recollection Goldsmith's Deserted Village—and the "Sketches," which are also descriptive of the pleasures of juvenile life and the picturesque scenery of his native hills—contain many fine passages. In the "Juvenalis Redivivus"—the author has pointed the arrows of satire against men and manners with no little severity—so much so, that he has found it necessary in his preface to acknowledge that time had softened much of the harsh coloring which he had thrown into his pictures. Many of his minor pieces abound in beautiful thoughts, expressed in smooth and flowing numbers—and upon the whole we think if Mr. Speece had been sufficiently encouraged in early life to persevere in the delightful but unprofitable task of poetical authorship—he might have reached a highly respectable rank. The following passage from "My Native Land," will probably remind the reader of Cowper's touching address to his mother's picture.
The same poem concludes in the following lines—being a farewell tribute to the place of his nativity.
We select a passage at random from the satiric poem, as a fair specimen of the author's style and manner.
If Mr. Speece were at this time a younger man than we presume him to be, we should take the liberty of pointing out some of his defects—but various allusions in some of his minor pieces, authorise the inference that his affections are now almost alienated from the once charming society of the muses. Domestic sorrow seems to have had no inconsiderable share in producing this result. His "Apology to A. L. Esq."—is full of the poet's as well as the father's anguish at the sudden death of a favorite son sixteen years old. We give the whole to the reader.
A VISIT TO TEXAS: Being the journal of a traveller through those parts most interesting to American settlers. With descriptions of scenery, habits, &c. &c.New York:Goodrich & Wiley. 1834.
The proximity of Texas to the United States,—the facilities of intercourse between the two countries—and the migratory habits of our citizens,—are sufficient to invest with more than ordinary interest every thing which relates to that part of Spanish America. The volume before us, is an unpretending and agreeable narrative, and is calculated we think to do good, by pointing out the mischiefs and inconveniences of emigration to the Mexican republic, and especially by calling the public attention to the many ingenious frauds which are practised by land companies and speculators. The author was a purchaser of twenty thousand acres from the Galveston Bay and Texas Land Company through their agents at New York, and full of golden dreams about this new Eldorado of the south west, he embarked in person at New Orleans, in order to take possession of his splendid principality. His disappointment and vexation may be easily imagined at finding himself on his arrival totally deceived on the subject of his title! It was not worth the parchment on which it was written, and after all his fruitless expense, anxiety and hardship, he did not enjoy even the melancholy satisfaction on his return to New York of obtaining from the trustees their sympathy, much less remuneration. Our traveller might indeed have acquired "a quarter of a league of unappropriated land, on condition of professing the Roman Catholic religion, becoming a citizen of the Republic of Mexico, and residing on the soil for six years, receiving his title from the government;"—but he was too conscientious and honorable to submit to such requirements. The truth is, that whilst there is much in the climate and soil of Texas to allure the settler, there are also numerous objections which ought to discourage the rash experiment of emigration. Our own country, particularly in its new states and territories—holds out sufficient inducements to such as find it either convenient or necessary to change their abodes; and there are no superior advantages in a residence on the Brassos or Colorado to compensate for the sacrifices of friends and connexions,—free government and the rights of conscience. It seems to us therefore to be little short of fatuity, especially in the present unsettled state of the miscalled Republic of Mexico, for a citizen of the United States to abandon for a settlement in that quarter his native land, unless indeed, he be a violator of its laws and a refugee from punishment.
In truth, it appears that this desperate class of men constitute no inconsiderable portion of the population of Texas;—and our author relates that on one occasion he sat at the same table with no less than four murderers who had fled from justice. True, there is a large portion of the country extremely beautiful and fertile, and the labors of the planter and herdsman are richly rewarded;—but these advantages are greatly counterbalanced by the insecurity of the government and laws—the intolerance of religious bigotry—and the absence of most of the elements which constitute a virtuous and happy community. Minor evils and inconveniences are also felt. The spacious plains and luxuriant prairies—though they furnish abundance of food for horses and cattle, are scantily supplied with wood, and altogether destitute of stone;—and the usual incidents of southern latitudes,—bilious fever,—poisonous reptiles and insects, and alligators of enormous size, serve to fill up the revolting picture.
We have no fears therefore, notwithstanding the enchanting coloring which even the temperate feelings and chastened imagination of our author have thrown around a Texas landscape—that there are many persons of sober minds, when they shall have balanced the good with the evil, will be much enamoured with the thought of a permanent "visit" to that region. The book, therefore, may be recommended as a tolerably certain antidote to any lurking desire for a ramble across the Sabine,—and if perchance the spirit of migration shall have become too obstinate for cure,—it may still have the effect of confining the wanderer's steps within the limits of our own republic.
There are many things in our author's narrative both curious and amusing—and not among the least so, is the account he gives of that intractable animal, themustang, or wild horse of the country. With one of that strange species he was necessarily obliged to cultivate an intimate acquaintance, having no other means of transportation between different parts of the country. The manner in which they are reduced to subjection, and the untameable perverseness of their nature, are thus related:
The first thing to be attended to, was the purchase of a horse; and this was easily effected. The small horses of the country, calledmustangs, introduced by the Spaniards, and now numerous in the more northern prairies, run wild in droves over these parts of Texas, and are easily taken and rendered serviceable by the inhabitants. When caught, it would be a problem to a stranger to confine them, where there is neither tree nor rock to be found: but the Mexicans put on a halter, knot it at the end, dig a hole about ten inches deep, put in the knot, and press the earth down upon it. The pull being sideways is at a disadvantage, and the horse is unable to draw it out. They are driven to market, purchased for three or four dollars, branded, hobbled, turned out again, and entirely abandoned to themselves until they are needed. Whenever a vessel arrives, some of the inhabitants send into the woods and cane brakes for such a number as they suppose may be wanted by the passengers; and this I found had already been done in anticipation of the wants of those who came in the sloop Majesty. In the log stable belonging to Mr. Austin, at whose house I lodged, I saw a number of them, with all the wild look which might be expected from their habits of life. They are small, generally about 13 hands high, well formed, rather for strength, and of different colors. I saw others in several other stables; and at length made choice of a white one; and having paid for him a doubloon and four dollars, (a handsome advance on his original cost,) stuffed a pair of saddle bags with a few articles of food as well as clothes, and was soon ready for my journey.
As the brands on horses afford the only evidence of their identity, and the property of their owners, the rules observed in respect to them are very strict.
These horses are very useful in the country, and may perhaps become at some future time a valuable article of export, as they are innumerable, and cost only the trouble of catching. This is done with a strong noosed cord, made of twisted strips of raw hide, and called alazo, which is the Spanish word for a band or bond. It has been often described, as well as the manner of throwing it, as it is in common use for catching animals, and sometimes for choking men, in different parts of America inhabited by the descendants of the Spanish and Portuguese. A man on horseback, with a rope of this kind coiled in his left hand, and one end of it fastened to the horse, whirls the noosed end in the air over his head as he approaches the animal he intends to seize: and, on finding an opportunity, throws it over its head or horns, and checks his horse. The noose is instantly drawn tight, and the poor creature is thrown violently down, without the power of moving, and generally deprived of breath. They are sometimes badly injured, and even killed, by bring dashed to the ground; but generally escape with a severe practical lesson on the nature of this rude instrument of civilization, which they afterwards hold in great respect all their lives, yielding immediately whenever they feel it again upon their necks.
The mustangs often carry to their graves evidence of the violent means adopted by the Mexicans in breaking them to the bridle. Many of them are foundered, or otherwise diseased. A horse which has been lazoed is blindfolded, mounted by a rider armed with the heavy and barbarous spurs of the country, after having their terrible lever bits put into his mouth, a moderate pull upon which might break his jaw, and if he runs is pricked to his speed, till he falls down with exhaustion. He is then turned in the opposite direction, and cruelly spurred again. If he is found able to run back to the point from which he started, he is thought to have bottom enough to make a valuable horse: otherwise he is turned off as good for little or nothing. The process is a brutal one; and the agony inflicted by the bits is extreme: as blood flows freely from the mouth which is often greatly swollen; and the animal yields to mere force.
In the morning we mounted our horses and proceeded to the river, where the ferry boat, a large scow, was lying near the shore. I dismounted, and taking the bridle in my hand, attempted to lead my horse in after me. Most fortunately I was looking at him, and was better prepared than I was sensible of being, to make one of those sudden instinctive motions, which sometimes prove essential to our safety. Had I been turning the other way, or a little less active, I should probably have lost my life, or at least have been seriously injured: for instead of following me into the boat, as an honest horse should, and as I had expected him to do, he fixed his eyes upon me with a malicious expression, and sprung at me like lightning, clearing the ground entirely, and making a leap of about eight feet. I jumped aside, and barely in time to avoid his feet, with which it seemed to me he designed to beat me down. I do not know that I ever had experienced such feelings as this occurrence excited in me. It betrayed a degree of spite mingled with craft which I had never seen in an animal of his species; and laid the axe at the root of all that confidence and attachment which a traveller loves to exercise towards his horse. I have been thus particular in mentioning this little occurrence, because the wit of the country appears to be largely invested in the horses; and this was the beginning of my white mustang.
Some other particulars of our traveller's own rebellious steed may also be extracted. He was not indeed "a Tartar of the Ukraine breed"—but he was as wild, mischievous and wicked an animal as ever pranked.
It was our intention to proceed to Bingham's that day: for one of my companions, who had travelled the road a short time before, had calculated that his house would afford us a very comfortable lodging after a good day's ride. We rose therefore to proceed on our journey. But I had a chapter or two more to read on the character of mustangs before I was destined to leave the place. I had never been informed of one particular propensity which they have, that is, to draw back and pull violently when approached in front, and therefore walked up to my white horse rather hastily to untie and mount him. He sprang back and pulled for a moment so hard upon the sapling to which I had fastened him, that it came up by the roots; and after a few leaps and kicks, which freed him from my saddle bags, and broke the bridle, he made off towards the middle of the prairie at full speed, with his head and tail both raised, and in a state of exultation which formed quite a contrast to my own feelings.
My companions threw off their valises, mounted immediately, and gave chase to the pestilent runaway, which, after a short gallop, had halted, and with the most provoking coolness began to eat grass from the prairie. As they approached him, however, he flew off again as fast as his legs would carry him; and thus he led them to a great distance, on a chase apparently hopeless. I watched them till I was tired, coursing over the prairie here and there, now on this side, now on that, at such a distance that they looked no bigger than cats, and anon further diminished to mere mice. My white mustang led them up and down, round and crosswise, as if he delighted in worrying them, occasionally stopping, as coolly as before, to crop the grass, and then off in a new direction, like a wild creature as he was. This chase lasted without intermission for four hours, at the end of which they succeeded in driving the little white animal towards the house. Mr. Bailey, seeing him approaching, despatched a messenger to a neighboring farm for assistance; and a man soon came hurrying down on horseback, provided with a lazo: a rope with a noose at the end as before described. He joined in the pursuit with the spirit and skill of one practised in such employment, and soon got within about eight or ten feet of my horse, when, with a dexterous fling, he suddenly threw the noose over his head. Having the beast now completely in his power, he was prepared to choke him into submission; and the noose was on the point of closing its grasp round his neck. But here the intelligence and experience of the mustang stepped in with customary promptitude: for as soon as he felt the rope round his neck, he stopped stone still, and yielded as submissively as a lamb. Like an accomplished rogue at last fairly in the gripe of justice, he seemed in haste to submit, plead guilty and repent, in order to secure as much leniency as possible; and in a few moments I was again on the back of this little flying brute, jogging on as quietly as if he had never rebelled in his life. There was a great deal of farce in all this: but we had been put to too much inconvenience by the perverse trick to enjoy the joke: for our loss of time, we foresaw, would put it out of our power to perform all our intended day's journey.
It was nearly dark when we reached Hall's: a habitation of which I had heard, but at which we had not originally intended to stop, as it was only thirteen miles from Bailey's. I here found that horses in Texas are always turned out loose to feed, even if a traveller stops but for the night, which would have ensured another chase, with perhaps even more unfavorable results than that I had witnessed, but for an expedient which was recommended to us. This was to "hobble them" after the fashion of the country: which consists in tying together their fore legs with a short cord, and not one fore and one hind leg together, as we do at the north. This operation instantly changes the movements of a horse, as he is obliged to make every step a fair leap: and it excited the greatest merriment in me, when I saw the horses of my companions practising a gait so different from common, under a mode of constraint which I had never witnessed before. Fully satisfied that such confinement would be sufficient even for my white mustang, I began to tie his legs together, which to my surprise he submitted to with the utmost cheerfulness, without raising his head, for he had already began to graze on the fine grass. Although so recently accustomed to run at large in the Brazos forests, he had evidently been familiar with the hobble: for as if he perfectly concurred in my opinion as to the propriety of his being bound, whenever he wanted to move he carefully raised both fore feet together, so as not to interfere with my task, and made a gentle spring to a knot of fresh feed. Surely, thought I, I have got a steed sagacious enough to figure in one of Æsop's Fables.
Our traveller had not proceeded far on his journey, before his vexatious mustang refused to eat, and gave signs of great weariness and exhaustion. Unable however to supply himself with another, he resolved after an interval of rest to pursue his way.
We took our departure accordingly; and I had much difficulty in getting my horse out of the town. In a short time, however, he began to cheer up, and gradually quickened his pace until his strength and spirits were quite restored, and he travelled remarkably well. However strange it may seem, there was every appearance that the whole affair had been a mere trick of the wily brute; and my opinion was confirmed by several inhabitants to whom I afterwards recounted the story. They told me that the sagacity and duplicity of the mustang is well known among them, and that he is capable of almost any thing, which ingenuity or malice can invent. So ungrateful a return for all my kindness and care, under such vexatious circumstances, and aggravated by such persevering imposture, added to my previous dislike of the animal which had been guilty of it.
One would be almost tempted to think that these provoking yet sagacious quadrupeds were regular descendants from the race celebrated by Swift, and which that eccentric satirist endowed with superior intelligence to men.
From our author's account, Texas would undoubtedly furnish its full quota of contributions to a cabinet of natural history. The feathered tribes luxuriate there, especially on the coast, in great abundance and variety. The wild fowl congregate in prodigious flocks, and the ornithologist might find almost every order, genera and species in creation. The tenants of the forest are not less numerous,—there being an ample supply of wolves, bears, panthers, wild cats, wild hogs, foxes, rackoons and squirrels. The waters too, furnish their finny, testaceous and crustaceous treasures,—the red fish, buffalo, cat, drum, pearch, oysters, crabs, &c. Nor is there any want of those amphibious annoyances, crocodiles and alligators—and to crown the whole, there is an anomalous species called the alligator-garr,—consisting not of the fanciful compound of half horse and half alligator—but of the actual and bona fide admixture of one moiety of fish, and the other of alligator. We must not forget either in enumerating the zoological curiosities of that region, one which we do not recollect to have seen described by naturalists. We give the words of the author.
One of the prettiest little animals I ever saw, is the "horned frog;" which, notwithstanding its name, is far from being amphibious, as it is found on the prairies at a distance from water. Indeed it bears little or no resemblance to a frog, appearing more like a lizard, with rather a long and graceful form, a tail, and legs of nearly equal length, so that it runs swiftly and never leaps. I had often occasion to notice them, both here and on other prairies. They run with such agility, that although they do not take alarm until you have approached very near them, they dart off, and generally disappear immediately. One might often mistake them for quails, while in motion. They are of a yellowish color, mottled, and have horns about half an inch long, projecting from the front of the head. Several were caught and kept for some time in a barrel at Anahuac, and though it could not be perceived that they ate any of the various kinds of food which were offered them, they lived and continued active for a considerable time.
That formidable reptile the rattlesnake, is also found in the grassy prairies of Texas. Our traveller killed one of the "largest and noblest" of that venemous family—it being five or six feet long and about six inches in circumference. It was provided however with only eight rattles, whereas others which had been killed a few days previously of hardly half the size, were furnished with as many as thirteen;—from which the author takes occasion to contest the common opinion that the number of rattles is an indication of the reptile's age. We have heard the same fact asserted, and the same conclusion drawn from it by others, whose opportunities for careful and actual observation were undoubted.
Notwithstanding the many and formidable objections to a permanent residence in Texas,—there are beauties in its scenery, which, despite of its unvarying monotony—must fill the beholder with delight. We give a description of one of the few fine estates in regular cultivation.
We were received with great hospitality by Mr. McNeil and his family, in which we found every disposition to welcome us. They set before us the best products of the soil, which is indeed a land flowing with milk and honey, in a more unqualified sense of the expression than any I had ever seen. Our exercise had sharpened our appetites; and we were soon cheered with the sight of an excellent and plentiful meal: for our hosts, without making a single allusion to the subject, had immediately given directions, on our first arrival, that our wants should be provided for, and we soon sat down to a well timed repast. It consisted chiefly of venison and a fine turkey, and was accompanied with excellent coffee. The daughter of our host was a very intelligent and well educated young lady, and had recently returned from the Northern States, where she had just completed her education.
After eating, we took a view of the charming scene around us. The house in which we were, constructed of logs, and on the plan common to the country dwellings of farmers in Texas, is well sheltered from the sun and the winds by the wood, in the verge of which it is situated: and when the beautiful China trees around it shall have attained a greater size, the spot will be rendered still more agreeable. The mansion fronts upon the estate: a fine, open prairie, over which the eye ranges with pleasure, no wild or barren spot occurring to interrupt the universal aspect of fertility and beauty, and no swelling of the surface being perceptible, which might in any degree interfere with the clearest view of every part. The only interruption is caused by clusters of trees of different forms and sizes, scattered at distant intervals here and there. These clumps and groves, apparently possessing all the neatness and beauty which could have been given them if planted by the hand of man, and tended by his greatest care, added the charm of variety to the eye, while they promised thick and convenient shelter from sun and storm to man or beast. Without such variety and such a refuge, the aspect of the prairie, with all its verdure, would have been monotonous to the sight, and disheartening to the traveller. It would be almost impossible for a person who has never seen them, to imagine the appearances of these groves. Although they are wholly the work of nature, they often present all the beauty of art: for the trees are of nearly equal size, and grow near together, without underwood, and present outlines perfectly well defined, and often surprisingly regular. Some appear to form exact circles or ovals, while others are nearly square or oblong. It is no uncommon thing to see a continued line, running perfectly straight, for a mile or more in length, with scarcely a single tree projecting beyond it: so that I found it difficult to divest myself of the impression, that much of the land had been lately cleared, and that these were but the remains of the forest.
Those groves are called islands, from the striking resemblance they present to small tracts of land surrounded by water. Nothing can be more natural than the comparison. The prairie assumes the uniform appearance of a lake, both in surface and color; and in the remoter parts the hue melts into that of distant water; and it requires no very great effort of the imagination, especially in certain states of the weather and changes of the light, to fancy that such is the nature of the scene.
The landscape was bounded on the right by a long and distant line of woodland, which concealed and yet betrayed the course of the river San Bernard, and about three miles off, and on the left by a similar limit, which formed the "bottoms" of the Brazos. Between these the prairie extended its broad, unbroken level before us about ten miles, beyond which we saw the Gulf of Mexico, reaching off to the horizon.
I stood long contemplating this charming picture, which, as I before remarked, is entirely overlooked from the door of our hospitable friend; and what greatly added to its interest, was a vast number of cattle feeding in all parts of his wide domain. How different a sight was here presented, from any of the rural scenes with which my eyes had ever before been familiar! How different was all the system of the farmer from that prevailing in those regions of my own country which I had lately visited! I was one moment struck with surprise at the vast extent of land under the care of a single proprietor, and the few human hands required to perform the necessary labor; and the next I was filled with admiration at the various advantages afforded by a mild and benignant climate, a soil of extreme fertility, and a surface best appropriate to its use, when subjected to a system of culture to which it is best adapted. The cotton field and garden, with their two hundred acres, lay on the one hand, effectually secured against all encroachment with the most substantial fence I had ever seen, which stretched off a mile on one line; and around and beyond it lay the almost boundless prairie, variegated with its numerous islands, spotted with a scattered herd of six hundred cattle, all belonging to our host. The breed is larger than those common in the north, with longer and straiter limbs, broader horns and smoother coats. They all appeared well fed, active and vigorous, and spend their lives through winter and summer in the open air. The only attention bestowed upon them, is merely to mark them when young in such a manner that if they stray they may be distinguished from the cattle of any other proprietor. Of course no housing is necessary in such a climate, and no provision of food for them is to be made, in a country where there is perpetual green. They feed during the winter in the bottoms, and as yet do not require salt, for some reason unaccountable to me. One might expect that cattle left thus to herd together in such immense droves, without the care or control of man during their lives, would contract habits of timidity or of fierceness; but I was assured that they are in one respect more manageable than the tame cattle I have seen: for a horseman can always readily separate such as he chooses from a herd, by riding after them one at a time, though this is a task of great difficulty with our northern cattle, even where they have roads and fences to restrain them.
We shall conclude by extracting another portion of the work, which in the simple and unpretending language of the author, presents a picture of such striking beauty, that the eye of a poet might almost mistake it for Elysium.
I had never been at all prepared for the indescribable beauty of a Texas prairie at this season of the year, which I now could not avoid admiring, even under such unpleasant circumstances. The wild flowers had greatly multiplied, so that they were often spread around us in the utmost profusion, and in wonderful variety. Some of those which are most cultivated in oar northern gardens were here in full bloom and perfection, intermingled with many which I had never before seen, of different forms and colors. I should despair of giving my reader any adequate idea of the scenes which were thus so richly adorned, and through which we often passed for acres in extent, breaking for ourselves the only path perceptible on the whole prairie. Among the flowers were the largest and most delicate I had ever seen, with others the most gaudy. Among them were conspicuous different species about six inches in diameter, presenting concentric zones of the brightest yellow, red and blue, in striking contrasts. In more than one instance these fields of flowers were not only so gay and luxuriant as to seem like a vast garden richly stocked with the finest plants and abandoned to a congenial soil, but extensive almost beyond limitation: for it was sometimes difficult to discover whether they stopped short of the horizon. It was singular also that patches were here and there overspread by mimosas, which, as our horses passed through them, drew up their leaves and dropped their branches whenever they were brushed by their feet, thus making a withered trace on the surface, which was but gradually obliterated as these timid plants regained their courage, raised their stems again and expanded their withered leaves. The plants whose sensitiveness had thus been overcome, were rendered distinguishable to the eye from others, by the exposure they made of the lower side of their leaves when they folded them up: that side being of a much lighter hue than the upper. There was a phenomenon connected with this striking appearance, which I was at the time unable to account for, and could hardly credit. That was, the shrinking of the delicate plants a little in advance of us, before we had quite reached them. A friend who had witnessed the same thing, accounted for it by supposing that they received a shock through the long horizontal roots which connect them together.
One of the first flowers which appears to deck the prairie in the spring, is the prairie rose, which in blossom and fragrance, resembles some of our rich red roses, though the shrub is quite different. As for others, I know not what a botanist might make of them: but I am certain that many of them would be exceedingly admired in our own country, as rich and new; and as to the scenes over which they were spread, it is impossible to describe or to imagine their beauty and attraction. After looking on the rich and ever varying display, I felt a high degree of pleasure and admiration, so that I thought I could almost give my mustang his liberty, throw myself on the ground and spend the whole season among them. Occasionally too a light breath of wind would rise, and blow the mingled perfumes into my face, giving an enjoyment no less pure and refined, and most difficult to express.