JS 
 
AN 
 HISTORICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL 
 
 OF THE 
 
 NORTH-AMERICAN 
 
 CONTINENT; 
 
 ITS 
 
 BY THE REV. JAMES BENTLEY GORDON. 
 
 WITH A 
 
 'itmmarp Account 
 
 OF 
 
 HIS LIFE/ 
 
 WRITINGS, *4<NI]> OPINIONS. 
 
 t i 
 
 PRINTED BY JOHN JONES, 40, SOUTH GREAT GEORGE'S-STREET. 
 
 1820. 
 
 
\e> 
 
TO THE KING. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 IT is surely an auspicious circumstance* 
 not only for the orphan daughters of the Author, 
 for whose benefit this Publication is ; but for man 
 kind, that the greatest Sovereign of the world, is 
 the most sensible to a call of humanity and letters* 
 It would ill become me to presume further, than to 
 subscribe myself, with the deepest gratitude, your 
 Majesty's most faithful, most obedient, and most 
 humble subject and servant, 
 
 THOMAS JONES, 
 
 Representative of the late JJMES BEHTLEY GORDOS. 
 
 Nutgrove School, Rathfarnham, 
 90th May, 1820. 
 
OF THE 
 
 LIFE, WRITINGS, AND OPINIONS, 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 REV. JAMES BENTLEY GORDON, 
 
 Rector ofKillegny^ in the Diocese of Ferns ; and ofCanaway y in that of Cork; 
 
 Author of " Terraquea ; or, Memoirs Geographical and Historical ;" 
 of the " History of the Rebellion of 1798 ;" of Ireland" 
 and " of the British Islands." 
 
A SUMMARY ACCOUNT, &c, 
 
 " WE have but collected this Volume, and done an office to the 
 dead, to procure his orphans, guardians, without ambition, either of 
 self-profit, or fame, only to keep the memory of so worthy a friend 
 and fellow, alive. 
 
 " HEMINGE AND CONDELL." 
 
 DOCTOR JOHNSON complains, that even Goldsmith's 
 life of Parnel, is dull and unentertaining, as the wri 
 ter had no proper knowledge (" had not eaten and 
 drunk with him") of his subject. He knew the man, 
 whose character he described, by report only. He 
 was not acquainted with the exact features of his 
 mind, the peculiarities of his manners, their shape 
 and colour. The remark is acute and just : but not 
 sufficiently extended no variety of incident, no dra 
 matic cast of character can be thrown into the biogra 
 phy of a secluded and sedentary scholar, which may 
 render the narrative lively and entertaining. 
 
 b 
 
X A SUMMARY 
 
 The truth and reality of the likeness should be 
 preserved, and they admit not of such extraneous or 
 naments. Happy it is for the narrator, that he can 
 thus throw a veil over his own deficiencies, by im 
 puting them to the deficiency of the subject that he 
 can conceal his dulness by attributing it to the same 
 ness which necessarily attaches to the quiet, unvaried 
 life of a secluded scholar, who never mingled with 
 the great and learned, except in scenes of rural tran 
 quillity who led a species of still life, which, how 
 soever abundant in happiness, affords little matter 
 for narration. Yet, although this narrative is dull, 
 it is consolatory to the writer. It is a medicine to 
 his sorrow, and a gratification to his pride ; for a 
 man may be proud to have enjoyed the friendship of 
 Mr. Gordon, from, boyhood upwards, for thirty-four 
 years, without the interruption of an hour. Medicinal 
 for the mind, while thus employed, seems, to hold 
 converse with, 
 
 
 
 " The guide, philosopher and friend/' 
 
 who gilded all the joys of past life, and softened all 
 
 its sorrows. 
 
 > 
 
 JAMBS BENTLEY GORDON was the son of the Rev. 
 James Gordon, of Neeve-hall, county Londonderry, 
 in the north of Ireland, a younger branch of the 
 Ducal family of Gordon, by the then Earls of Hunt- 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. Xi 
 
 ley, who having adhered to the race of the Stuarts, 
 shared in their misfortunes ; and the residue are now 
 mostly scattered through Scotland and Jamaica. 
 
 His mother was daughter of Thomas Neeve, cele 
 brated in British biography, as a man of eminent 
 science and literature; and was nephew to the great 
 Bentley, whose fame so many of his descendents par 
 ticipate in, and are honoured by. This gentleman 
 having been connected by marriage with the Mac- 
 Cartney and Sidney families, illustrious names, left a 
 large personal property to his grand-children. By 
 the mismanagement of the trustee, it became of no 
 value to them. The present Sir Thomas Neeve, of 
 Essex, Baronet, is lineal descendant of the maternal 
 branch of Mr. Gordon's family as was also the ce 
 lebrated Richard Cumberland, who till within a few 
 months of his death maintained a correspondence 
 with the subject of this narrative. 
 
 
 
 Although Mr. Gordon was fully alive to the great 
 value of family-respectability to society at large, and 
 considered it as a great stimulus an additional in 
 centive to honourable conduct in life, he notwith 
 standing never boasted of his. " Quce non fecimus 
 ipsiy vix ea, nostra voco" But indeed no man, who 
 has a claim to a good descent should undervalue it. 
 
 b 2 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 It is a badge of distinction, which makes all other 
 honours sit with a better grace. Doubtlessly, as 
 Horace says, and as many of even kings and nobles 
 have said, since Horace's time, true nobility resides 
 in the mind, and is not to be measured by splendid 
 titles and ancestral dignity. It cannot with unerring 
 certainty, be transmitted from father to son. It may 
 however be admitted that hereditary rank and family 
 honours continued from generation to generation, 
 engender, spread and secure a distinctive highmind- 
 edness of conduct, which renders the acquisitions of 
 this generation the seeds and plants of the virtues and 
 excellencies of those which are to follow. Men are 
 thus most effectually formed into " what nature and 
 the gods designed them." A stronger stimulus is 
 thus given to man's exertions than by any considera 
 tions merely personal and selfish. 
 
 Having received the usual school-education, he en 
 tered Trinity College, Dublin ; and originally pur 
 posed to read for a fellowship, but was prevented by a 
 long illness, terminating in a weakness of sight, which 
 for many years, deprived him of all power of read 
 ing : and although he subsequently acquired strength 
 enough of vision to be able to read a book placed 
 close to the eye, he never acquired sufficient clearness 
 >f sight to enable him to read with ease and fluency. 
 This defect tlurew an ungraceful, unrecommendatory 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. xiii 
 
 awkwardness over his whole demeanour. It affected 
 and blunted the whole system of his tastes, by ex 
 cluding him, before he had sufficiently stored his 
 mind w T ith images, from an expansive or an exact 
 view of nature. He never acquired a perception of 
 the beauties of a landscape, or a flower; and the 
 narrator remembers his being laughed at by a lady, 
 to whom he once presented a flaring, full-blown 
 peony, as "a beautiful rose." 
 
 During his continuance in college, he engaged the 
 attachment and lasting friendship of several very 
 respectable men. On leaving it, about the year 1773, 
 he entered into orders. Subsequently, in early life, 
 about 1776, he became acquainted with the late Lord 
 Courtown, (as private tutor to his sons) a man who, 
 endowed with all the refinement and high polish 
 which a court can bestow upon a noble nature, knew 
 how to value, and had an innate regard for simplicity 
 and integrity such as Mr, Gordon's. In fact, his Lord 
 ship, who had the best possible opportunities of know 
 ing him intimately and well, as he lived in his family, 
 at Courtown, for some years, always, as is evident 
 by his .letters, regarded him not only with esteem, 
 Jbut cordiality. 
 
 In or about the year 1779, he married Miss Boo- 
 tey, daughter ^f Richard Bookey, Esq. ; a family of 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 . 
 
 high respectability, in the counties of Wicklow and 
 Kildare; a son of which, Thomas Bookey, Esq. (a ne 
 phew of Mrs. Gordon) of Mount Garnet, in the county 
 Kilkenny,was lately, June 1819, married to a daugh 
 ter of the present Lord Bishop of El phi n^. ; and Miss 
 Bookey, Mrs. Gordon's niece, heiress of the main 
 branch of her family, is married to James Chritchley, 
 Esq., repeatedly Sheriff of the counties of Wicklow 
 and Kildare; and who, although a man of extensive 
 possessions, is still better known for integrity, libera 
 lity, and correctness, in all the walks and commerce 
 
 of life. 
 
 
 
 Whatever other advantages Mr. Gordon may have 
 derived from his marriage, it is certain that the first, 
 and best object of life was fully obtained by it. The 
 cheerfulness and kindness of his wife's disposition, 
 her bland ness of manners and goodness of heart threw 
 a family-paradise around him. If, fortunately, they 
 had been reared in habits of judicious economy, they 
 would have found their income amply sufficient for 
 all the purposes of a respectable establishment, which 
 indeed (though by incurring debts) they always up 
 held ; but, though neither of them was extravagant, 
 they were improvident, and never sufficiently un 
 derstood, and attended to the conduct and distribution 
 
 * Since the foregoing was written (in July last) his Lordship has been 
 translated to the Archdiocese of Tuam. 
 
ACCOUNT, <fec. XV 
 
 of their fortune. Thus, therefore, with them the 
 brightness of life was too often obscured by pecuniary 
 difficulties and embarrassments. But the sweetness of 
 her temper, and the philosophy of his, soon dissipated 
 those clouds ; and they cast only a slight and tran 
 sient gloom over minds engaged and engrossed by 
 the necessary cares and attention to a numerous and 
 growing offspring. 
 
 Shortly after his marriage Mr. Gordon undertook 
 the establishment of a boarding school, at Marlfield, 
 between Gorey and Courtown, in the county Wex- 
 ford ; and for some years, he was entrusted with the 
 education of the sons of several most respectable men. 
 But neither his health, nor his habits corresponded 
 with the severe and unremitting duty of a school 
 master. If he failed in that occupation, Milton and 
 Johnson did so before him. That he was beloved by 
 most of his pupils ; and by some of them in no ordi 
 nary degree, the narrator well knows. Among 
 others, the sons of the late Mr.Coleman, of Newtown, 
 near Rathfarnham, with their father, (a gentleman 
 of the greatest worth and intelligence,) were attached 
 to him, with respect and cordiality during their lives. 
 All the survivors of this most amiable family, conti 
 nue their regards with undiminished sensibility, for 
 his memory, towards the objects most dear to him. 
 
XVI A SUMMARY 
 
 Many a delightful scene of literary conversation* 
 of philosophical instruction, of parental solicitude, of 
 Christian example, witnessed in this family, rushes 
 on the recollection of the narrator and presses for ut 
 terance; but he must check himself from the detail. 
 Dull heads, or cold hearts may ridicule the living 
 picture pourtrayed by Goldsmith, of domestic bliss in 
 the, Wakefield family, and turn from it, as an exagge 
 ration of the poet's imagination, or a vulgar scene of 
 low enjoyment ; but indeed the poet's pen adds no 
 thing to the reality of Mr. Gordon's family fire-side at 
 Marlfield. He doubtlessly possessed the same unaf 
 fected simplicity and integrity of character, which 
 Goldsmith gives his Vicar. He was actuated by the 
 same benevolence of humanity and oblivion for its 
 weakness, and w r as never touched with hostility ex 
 cept against vice, intolerance, or aggression. 
 
 *' > ytxg 
 
 " He was a friend to mankind, for he loved them all." 
 
 The following circumstance may sufficiently exem 
 plify his generous and persevering ardour, in the pur 
 suit of literature, an ardour, which obstacles only 
 strengthened to overcome, " ne cede malts, sed con 
 tra audentior lYo." Residing in the country, at too 
 great a distance from public libraries, he was often 
 stopped in his researches for \yant of books not to be 
 
ACCOUNT, <fec. xvii 
 
 found in the libraries in his neighbourhood, all of 
 which were open to him, particularly that of his pa 
 tron and friend, the friend of every species of good 
 ness and liberality, the Earl of Courtown of his 
 brother, then Dean of Ferns, afterwards Bishop of 
 Cork. Of Stephen Ram, Esq. of Ramsfort, who 
 had a fine collection of select and valuable books* 
 It however often happened, that books, which he 
 wanted could not be found with any of his friends. 
 He, on such occasions, either made an excursion 
 io Dublin, to store his memory, and to make his 
 notes, or like Doctor Primrose, though for a 
 more laudable purpose, the beast was sent to the 
 fair, and the narrator has known him, to sell a 
 horse for ten guineas, which sum, he immediately 
 sent to the late Mr. John Archer, then residing 
 at 80, Dame-street, Dublin, (a man, who was the 
 first to introduce an extensive variety of books in 
 all sciences, and languages among his countrymen ; 
 and whose dealings were all marked by distinguished 
 liberality) in payment for a copy of Gough 'sedition of 
 Camden's Britania Ex uno disce omnes. Let every 
 young man of a liberal profession, thus cultivate let 
 ters, they will be an ornament, and a solace through 
 life, and perhaps may also cause a man's memory to 
 be respected, by those whose respect is valuable. At 
 
XVlii A SUMMARY 
 
 all events, a real attachment to letters, lifts a man 
 above the sordid views of life and all its meanness. It 
 not only encreases the value of all other enjoyments, 
 but it creates new enjoyments of its own. It 
 makes a man agreeable to himself and enables him, 
 to extend his agreeabilities beyond himself. It sof 
 tens all the ills of life, and exalts all its blessings. It 
 adorns the highest fortune, and, as will be seen in 
 the case of Mr. Gordon, it enabled him, to recover the 
 rank and consideration in life, which was lost, by the 
 improvidence of an ancestor, and notwithstanding a 
 most injudicious management of an ample income, 
 to leave, it is hoped a valuable inheritance in the fruits 
 of his memory, and the labours of his intellect, to his 
 posterity. Neither religion, nor virtue, properly 
 speaking, can exist among mankind without it. De 
 void of learning, religion degenerates into blind fana 
 ticism, or wild enthusiasm ; and without it, virtue's 
 features are savage and uncouth. 
 
 In this outline of Mr. Gordon's family concerns, 
 may we be allowed to offer a tribute, T O yx? y ^* s *, OVT^. 
 to the memory of a brave and generous youth, his 
 eldest son, James George Gordon, who as Lieutenant 
 in Lord Courtown's corps of yeoman cavalry, dis 
 played so much courage and humanity in the rebel 
 lion of 1798, and so strongly attracted the attention 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 and kindness of the late veteran General Skirret, who 
 commanded at that time in his neighbourhood, that 
 he subsequently procured him a commission, and ac 
 companied it with a letter (which is now with other 
 documents of the General's in the narrator's posses 
 sion) of the most kind and cordial advice and direc 
 tion. Fortes creantur fortibus. This youth met 
 his death leading up his division, to the attack of 
 Fort Sandusky in Upper Canada, as his friend, Gene 
 ral Skirret, junior, the son of his patron, did, leading 
 on the too daring assault of Bergen-op-Zoom. 
 
 These and similar statements may appear puerile 
 to some ; but if they have a tendency, as the narrator 
 means they should, to inculcate principles in boys, such 
 as fathers would wish them to possess, the objection 
 will not be formidable. Neither the opportunities, 
 nor the capability of the narrator enable him to put 
 forward a finished composition. He has none of the 
 art of authorship, its formality or its pomp not 
 that he despises these things, because he knows 
 not how to reach them ; but he has been too 
 much engaged, since his own boyhood, in teaching 
 boys, to be now enabled to teach men. Those who 
 want instruction least, will not be the first, he 
 hopes, to complain of his deficiency. He does as well 
 as he can, under the circumstances that impel him to 
 the work. The generosity and candour, which he has 
 
 c 2 
 
XX A SUMMARY 
 
 on most occasions, experienced in life, he trusts, will 
 not be denied to him on this occasion, which has 
 awakened all his sensibilities, and recalled the whole 
 train of his own life, as well as that of his friends* 
 in review to his mind. 
 
 There is a circumstance in the life of Mr. Gordon, 
 barren as it was of incidents, which shews in a 
 strong and pointed manner, how he was estimated 
 by a great and independent rnind. In 1807, when 
 Mr. Fox was in power, he wrote to Mr. Gordon, and 
 sent him an introduction to his Grace the Duke of 
 Bedford, then Lord Lieutenant. Although this kind 
 ness w r as disappointed by the death of Mr. Fox, and 
 the consequent shortness of his Grace's lieutenancy, 
 no language of the narrator can reach the nobleness 
 and grandeur of Mr. Fox's conduct on this occasion, 
 as on most others. Hereditarily accustomed to the 
 walks of greatness ; yet unsophisticated by the in 
 trigues which the struggles for greatness are said to 
 generate, he turns his attention with a magnanimous- 
 simplicity, to an unambitious sholar in an obscure 
 corner, whose only recommendation to him, was a 
 kindred integrity in historic relation a firmness in 
 the cause of truth unjustly visited by neglect and ob 
 loquy. A noble example this ; and the memory of 
 it is fresh in the mind of his Grace the Duke of Bed- 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 ford; and the greatest prince on earth has most 
 graciously recognised it.^ 
 
 The author of this narrative touches on any failing, 
 or defect of Mr. Gordon's with filial reverence ; but 
 although he would shield the memory of his friend 
 from any malignant criticism, the impartiality of his 
 narrative demands that the whole truth should be 
 told. " The Gods give us some faults to shew that 
 we are men." An honest writer should however 
 adopt the candour of the true critic ; and although 
 he may be forced by the current of his narration to 
 confess some blemishes, " Quas ant incuria fudit, 
 aut humana parum cavil natiira" he should de 
 pict them so, as not to obscure the general excellency 
 of his subject. It is said in language more powerful 
 than human language, that " the spirit of a man sus- 
 taineth his infirmity," and happy he, who like Mr. 
 Gordon, is pressed only by such small defects as are 
 easily recovered from who is stained by no flagrant 
 immorality of conduct no treachery of friendship 
 no action of dishonour no pollution of mind. All 
 whose habitudes were those of virtue, bottomed on 
 religion. Whose life, in all its great features, was 
 
 * When the foregoing was written, (July, 181 9,) his present Majesty, 
 Geo. IV. was Prince Regent. 
 
XXii A SUMMARY 
 
 not only unblemished, but of exemplary integrity 
 and innocency. What though we may acknowledge, 
 nay must confess, that he was gifted with a very 
 slight degree only, of worldly prudence ; and that 
 many of the difficulties and exasperations which at 
 tended him through life, and were even among the 
 proximate causes of his death, might have been avoid 
 ed by a proper attention, and wise management of 
 his pecuniary affairs. What though he did not avail 
 himself of the kindness and cordiality manifested 
 for him, by several men of the highest influence, in 
 favour of himself and family, with the address and 
 cleverness which distinguish and improve the fortunes 
 of other men, we should notwithstanding acknow 
 ledge that such blemishes are most frequently found 
 to adhere to the wisest and best men, who are for the 
 most part lost to self, or absorbed as it were in in- 
 tellectual pursuits, often overlook the objects nearest 
 and dearest to them. Such was the complexion of 
 Mr. Gordon such his easy nature such his implicit 
 confidence in the goodness of Providence. 
 
 Almost all his pleasures were intellectual. For 
 him the stores of ages, and the treasures of all cli 
 mates, were spread out as a rich banquet. His en 
 joyments, like Dryden's lovers, were not confined to 
 time or space. He sought and found them in every 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. xxiii 
 
 age and in every country. He was " the heir of cre 
 ation, and the world was his." He was prone to no 
 sensual indulgence. He was indeed not abstemious, 
 but he was temperate. He was satisfied with the 
 plainest viands, almost to indifference ; except, that 
 he was as fond of a hot cake, as king Alfred ; and as 
 negligent of it, in the preparation ; but when provi 
 ded, he spared it not. His mind, in its flight " be 
 yond this visible diurnal sphere" occasionally, though 
 rarely, became subject to some illusions, or optical de 
 ceptions, akin to those visions which the Scotch call 
 second sight. A mental malady, arising from a too 
 great abstraction, and want of intercourse with the 
 world. During the most of his life he was placed at 
 too great a distance from a living conversation with 
 such other minds as he could properly attach himself 
 to, perfectly associate with, and become refreshed and 
 refined by a rapid interchange of ideas. In candour 
 too, we must allow that he was not formed for a ge 
 neral acquaintance and promiscuous intercourse with 
 mankind. He was too diffident, unostentatious and 
 slow too retiring and indolent to please, or be 
 pleased much on a slight acquaintance'. He was 
 too keenly sensible of the affectation and parade which 
 so much display themselves in the intercourse of 
 mankind, not even excepting the scientific and the 
 learned. He was himself of so plain, sincere and 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 perfectly good faith, in every conversation and occa 
 sion of life, that he perhaps made too little allowance 
 for even a ceremonial deficiency of it, in others. It is 
 said that Scipio never spoke a lie even in jest, and the 
 narrator firmly believes that Mr. Gordon never de 
 signed one in earnest. 
 
 There is a little incident of no importance, except as 
 it may display the character of the man, in its native 
 simplicity. Riding home from the narrator's house, 
 (to which for the last twenty years, he generally paid 
 a visit, or two, annually) many years since, (1807,) 
 he was attacked on Tallaght-hill, by a body of foot 
 pads, and robbed of his money, his watch, and upper 
 clothes- Having been dismissed without bodily in 
 jury, and ridden on a little, he suddenly recollected, 
 that they had taken from him a favourite cane of little 
 or no value to them. He turned back, shouted out, 
 and requested they would restore his cane, which in 
 deed they did. He then proceeded on his journey, in 
 awkward plight enough, equipped in a ragged coat 
 and tattered hat, which the robbers gave him, to the 
 house of his friend, James Chritchley, Esq. of Grange- 
 beg, in the county Kildare. Here having- been re 
 furnished, he proceeded next day, home to Kil- 
 legny. 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. XXV 
 
 That Mr* Gordon was far from cultivating the 
 graces of life, as Lord Chesterfield so forcibly admo 
 nishes is perfectly true ; and that he had an habitual 
 peculiarity and prima facie awkwardness of manner, 
 is not denied. This, in a great degree was attributa 
 ble to his deficiency of sight. All men, however, catch 
 somewhat of the tone, and manners of those, with 
 whom they must most converse, and associate. The 
 narrator often observed, that during the latter years 
 of Mr. Gordon's life, his conversation and tone be 
 came deteriorated. While he lived at Marlfield in 
 the neighbourhood of Courtown and Gorey, he had 
 much more of the tone and manner of literary con 
 versation and polite life, than subsequently. But no 
 man ever possessed the fundamentals of true polite 
 ness more than he did. Always natural and unaffect 
 ed, he was easy without effort, plain without rude 
 ness, and peculiar without offence. He never im 
 posed restraint on himself, or others As he never 
 meant to offend, he was not apt to suppose himself 
 offended. He never attacked, or disobliged any man, 
 who did not attack, or disoblige him- -Then indeed 
 he was perhaps somewhat too unmeasured in his re 
 sentment, and too lasting. We should, however, add, 
 that he imagined the offence on the injury to be con 
 tinued and unexpiated, as no man, on an acknow- 
 
 d 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 lodgement of an error, was more readily and sin 
 cerely appeased. How unfathomable, says Rochefaul- 
 cault, are the depths of self-love ? How studiously do 
 some men struggle to conceal low and unworthy mo 
 tives, and to assume some justifiable pretext for the 
 cold-blooded persecution of the memory of a man, 
 whom having first provoked, they cannot even forgive 
 his ashes? 
 
 About the year 1T96, the late Hon. and Right Rev. 
 Thomas Stopford, Lord Bishop of Cork, who inhe 
 rited a full share of the exalted and characteristic 
 generosity of his noble family, presented Mr. Gordon 
 to the living of Canaway, in the diocese of Cork. In 
 1799, His Grace, the present Archbishop of Dublin, 
 then Bishop of Ferns, having for several years before, 
 been favourably impressed by Mr. Gordon's exemp 
 lary life, learning and intellectual endowments, in 
 the true spirit, and meaning of a Christian Bishop, 
 presented him to the living of Killegny, in the dio 
 cese of Ferns. His Grace's letters evince how highly 
 he esteemed Mr. Gordon, during an acquaintance of 
 many years. Under present circumstances, it will 
 be allowed without any suspicion of adulation to say, 
 that his Grace appeared and acted in his episcopal 
 function (a trust the most important and sacred,) as 
 one of those lights, which providence for a season, 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 exhibits as an exemplar to mankind O &i sic om- 
 nes. They of his own order, it is hoped, will not 
 be fonder to praise, than to imitate his truly pastoral 
 attention to old and meritorious clergymen. Then 
 the Church of the establishment will co-incide with 
 the design of its institution, and the spirit of its doc 
 trine ; and be a real public concern to advance the 
 cause of Christian faith by the most powerful motive 
 of Christian example in its practice.^ 
 
 Fortunate is the diocese of Leighlin and Fernsf in 
 its late, and its present bishop, administered, as it is 
 by an enlightened discernment, and benevolent atten 
 tion, as will more fully appear in the sequel of this 
 narrative. The amount of these preferments to Mr. 
 Gordon may, communibus annis, have been six or 
 seven hundred a year ; but they came late in life ; and 
 his habits although plain and inexpensive were im- 
 
 * Since the above was written (July 181 9,) His Grace, Doctor Euseley 
 Cleaver, Archbishop of Dublin., has paid the great debt of nature ; and 
 now mingles with the spirits of the just made perfect, where human 
 praise, or blame avails him not ; but, where the uprightness and integrity 
 of his intentions, and the illustrious example of his life, will speak for 
 him, as angels, " trumpet tongued." 
 
 f Since these sheets were sent to the press, the Right Hon. and Right 
 Rev. Percy Jocelyn, D. D. Bishop of Leighlin and Ferns, has been 
 translated to the diocese of Clogher. 
 
 d 2 
 
XXViii A SUMMARY 
 
 provident and negligent, from want of knowledge in 
 the daily transactions of life ; and, he was not ever 
 able during the latter part of his life, to completely 
 redeem the embarrassments, which he necessarily con 
 tracted in the former part. 
 
 Having thus summarily drawn the outline of Ms 
 fortune and his manners, we are now to say a few 
 words of his modes and habits of study, and of his 
 general opinions. His custom was to read his author 
 leisurely and thoroughly : he then walked out, re 
 volved and digested the subject in his mind, and made 
 himself master of it, in a connected, orderly manner. 
 Thus adopting the fashion, which Swift attributes to 
 Pope, 
 
 " Pope walks and courts the muse.'* 
 
 Like Henry in the composition of his History of 
 England, he was thus enabled to complete his work, 
 without the intervention of a second copy. Nothing 
 can more clearly and satisfactorily manifest the full 
 and perfect knowledge which he had of his subject, 
 than that he composed so long a work from the ful 
 ness of his mind and the stores of his memory. 
 Scarcely a blot few interlineations, additions, or al 
 terations are to be found in his manuscripts consisting 
 of nearly three thousand very closely written pages* 
 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. XXIX 
 
 Like the bee, he collected the materials from various 
 quarters ; and so mixed and new moulded them, that 
 the composition, although it savours of the flowers 
 whence collected, has, by the operation of his art and 
 industry, acquired a new, a racy, and an embalming 
 quality of its own. 
 
 Early imbued by the Greek and Latin classics, he 
 too much undervalued modern poets. Of all profane 
 authors, he esteemed Homer most Milton next- 
 then Virgil and Horace. Shakspeare^ he did not 
 
 * Against Shakspeare it is objected by the greatest of all critics (Doctor 
 Johnson) that " he seems to write without any moral purpose." The 
 Doctor, indeed, whose mental acumen was only inferior to Shakspeare's, 
 urges this charge, as well he may, with a tender solicitude, and speedily 
 too discharges it, by observing, that from his writings te a system of moral 
 duty may be selected." Shakspeare is then, therefore, as didactic as life 
 requires, and in the manner, by which life may be most efficaciously edified 
 Although his flight be apparently vagrant, and his course disorderly, truth 
 never forsakes his pinions, or ceases to direct his view. She presents 
 herself to him, as it were sudsponte, as Venus to her son ./Eneas, and he 
 becomes at once smitten and inspired with her charms. Smitten ami 
 inspired he certainly is, and he makes his inspiration to be felt : and 
 inculcates a love for virtue and goodness of every species, more effectually, 
 then the ablest Professors e cathedra, have ever done. Society is delignted, 
 refined and improved by his writings, ' plenius et melius Chrysippo, aut 
 Crantore" May we not, therefore, candidly conclude, that he designedly 
 interweaves the apta f et idonea vita, with the web of his fable and the de 
 velopment of his characters. He knew that the moral medicines of man 
 kind often require to be gilded, that by preventing the patients nausea, 
 they may produce the due effect intended by the prescription. Shakspeare 
 is the writer of all others, who inculcates a truly impartial, universal 
 
XXX A SUMMABY 
 
 properly appreciate in considering him second to any 
 writer of any age, or country. Dryden, and Pope, 
 and Goldsmith; Gray, and Campbell; Rogers, and 
 Burns, and Southey, were among his favourites. 
 Virgil, and Horace, and Milton, he had by heart, and 
 almost all the fine passages of the Iliad. This foun 
 dation he laid in youth, and he never much added to 
 it afterwards. He used to insist too much that mo 
 dern poets only dilate and weaken the strength and 
 texture of poetic imagery ; and that it was for the 
 most part time lost, to give those hours to their 
 works, which may be so much more delectably be 
 stowed on the great originals, whence all these pig- 
 morality. Other writers, and the theatres of other nations,, ancient and 
 modern, address themselves, exclusively, or peculiarly to some distinct 
 class, or order of mankind, with a view to flatter either the higher or lower 
 classes and ranks of life ; and thus injure the best bonds of society, by false 
 and treacherous pictures, by low covert insinuations and unsocial conclu 
 sions, that the miseries of mankind and the disorders of society, arise from 
 the inequalities of human condition, more than from their own vicious pro 
 pensities. Thus the drama of other writers instead of inculcating a le 
 gitimate sense of moral duty and social order, engender envy on one side, 
 and contempt on the other. Shakspeare alone, of true British breed, em 
 braces all ranks and degrees of men, without flattery and without preju 
 dice. In his magic mirror there is no distortion in little or in big. Every 
 man from the king to the peasant, may see his duties depicted there, and 
 the mutual dependence of all on all, with awholesome impartiality, and 
 poetic justice. In his mode of inculcating morality, as in all his modes, 
 he excels all other men, he coincides with nature in her spring. Buds 
 and flowers " spread their beauty to the sun," and imperceptibly form 
 into fruits, delicious to the taste, and useiul to the support of life. 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. XXxi 
 
 mies draw their little wealth. This, to be sure, is 
 too much a wholesale undistinguishing criticism ; but 
 the self-love of poetry mocks all criticism, and new 
 cobwebs of the brain will be ever a weaving. 
 
 In all his researches in the whole system of his 
 life, he was more studious to form clear ideas and 
 just conclusions, than to make any pompous, senten 
 tious display of the steps that lead to them, Verum 
 et decens, truth and propriety, were the great objects 
 which he sought after and cultivated in life. The 
 critic will not complain that Mr. Gordon's stile does 
 not make his subject sufficiently intelligible. He 
 cannot, however, be so easily excused from the oppo 
 site charge of never leaving that which was clear to 
 himself, obscure to his readers : and this is a fault, 
 which most men are not too prone to pardon. Peo 
 ple love to find in a book something beyond the level 
 of ordinary apprehension something, which may 
 cause a ripple on the smooth surface of the mind, 
 and seem at least to apply a flattering stimulus to 
 self-complacency; although it be not sufficient to 
 awaken indolence to mental exercise, or dulness to 
 the activity of thinking. Occasional difficulties, and 
 some peculiarities in an author, serve like the swells 
 and turns in a road to keep the attention more alive 
 
XXXii A SUMMARY 
 
 and observant of the beauties of the country, than a 
 dead level, and a direction ever in a right line. 
 
 Passing from the poets to the historians. Thucy- 
 dides was his favourite. Him he regarded as the 
 father of authentic history, quceque ipse vidit, &c. 
 He esteemed him as the friend of rational liberty, 
 and his book as a school for statesmen, in which they 
 are taught by powerful example and clear inference, 
 the danger of tyranny, as well as its cruelty : and 
 that above all, the cowardly tyranny of demagogues, 
 sharpened, as it always is, by their own insecure and 
 precarious authority, is most to be dreaded most to 
 be avoided. On such occasions men may well indeed 
 "fly from petty tyrants to the throne :" but wise 
 men fly only to the throne of the laws. Mitford,^ 
 
 * May we here presume to offer a slight criticism on a passage in Mr. 
 Mitford's history of Greece, chapter 18th, section 5th, he states, and refers 
 to Thucydides, that the Lacedaemonians sent Gylippus alone in aid of the 
 Syracusans. Mr. M. is in this passage, evidently mistaking. It would 
 appear, that he is misled by the drift of Alcibiades's speech, who then in 
 exile, roused the Spartan councils against his countrymen, the Athenians, 
 and their allies. Thucydides does not warrant the position, that Gylippus 
 was sent alone. See Thucyd. lib 6, chap. 93, " M , ro^aim**, *, r 0ts ( , 
 
 t^ x/ Tvyilrirov 'ffpoyTac^xvTif atg^ovTue, tots 'Zvgatxotriair msKsvov /X.ET' exE/va/y. 
 
 TOI 
 
 Again, lib. 6, Chap. 103, - V roc /nix (Tv^iwot SCllilet) x*< ni/9 o K<y<v(W, 
 
 Aaxox;x;v And yet Still, Hb. 7, Chap. J, - **; o //, rvltrros aA*?*y rwy TE viperepu, vetv " 
 
 ruv xxi iw<G<xrut> TOVS ^KKT^VWS t<jrracx.oo-iovr /' To the Same purpose DiadorUS Si- 
 
 culus, lib. 13, and subsequent compilers, as Rolling Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. xxxiii 
 
 Ferguson, Littleton, Somerville, Henry, and Coxe, 
 he regarded as real historians, who, guided by the 
 polar star of truth, conduct their readers with felici 
 tous skill arid learned labour through the clouds of 
 error and the dark gloom of faction, to a clear and 
 comprehensive view of their subjects. 
 
 The stile and manner of an historian, he deemed 
 perhaps too much a secondary and subordinate con 
 sideration ; and therefore neither Livy nor Hume 
 stood so high in his estimation as they do in general 
 opinion. To Gibbon's research and luminous ar 
 rangement, he gave the highest praise, as well as to 
 the general choice of his topics ; but he despised his 
 sententious affectation, the holiday-dress of his stile, 
 the gloss of which becomes soon faded by continual 
 recurrence and daily use. He still more despised his 
 cold, subtle, and studied infidelity. He knew not 
 how an understanding elevated by learning and phi 
 losophy, as Mr. Gibbon's certainly was, could really 
 entertain such false and uncomfortable notions; and 
 he finally concluded that they were not really enter 
 tained, and that the profession of them was merely a 
 
 &c. with the exception of Justin, who writes " mittiturquc Gylippus 
 splits, in quo instar omnium Lacedcemoniorum erat." A fine turned sen 
 tence, but quite unfounded in fact. [See Gylippus's character in Plu 
 tarch's life of Nicias. 
 
XXXiV A SUMMARY 
 
 display of literary vanity a lie in sentiment, to at 
 tract attention and to make a name. The common 
 and beautiful order of nature and reason is forsaken 
 for a while, and men gape in stupid surprize at an 
 unexpected irregularity, or an unusual deformity. 
 The finest face, or the pages of Pope, or the luminous 
 splendours of Johnson are sometimes neglected, to 
 jstare at a wen, or to be puzzled by a connundrum. 
 The varied picture of the finest landscape, or the end 
 less delight of perusing Shakspeare, is occasionally 
 forsaken to admire a basaltic pillar, or to unravel a 
 charade. Such pleasure is of short duration 
 
 " It steals but a glance from lime." 
 
 Nature and reason quickly resume their empire, bring 
 back the mind to its proper course, and restore reli 
 gion to its proper severeignty. Considering Robert 
 son at once as a writer and an historian, he esteemed 
 him, as Pope does Dryden, 
 
 " Whose long majestic march and harmony divine/' 
 
 . 
 
 are calculated to delight and improve all readers. Of 
 Steele, and Swift, and Addison he thought highly. The 
 narrator sometimes presumed to maintain the superi 
 ority of the great Doctor Johnson above them all ; and 
 to consider him, as equal, if not superior to all mo- 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. XXXV 
 
 ral writers and critics of his own, or any other 
 country.^ 
 
 As to the great theological writers, and divines, 
 the reproach, which Thirlby made to his great rela 
 tive, Bentley, applies with equal force to him. He 
 appeared to avoid conversation on the topic. He felt 
 not sufficiently strong. The narrator however is well 
 assured, that he was not so uninformed even on this 
 subject, as he appeared to be. That he was not better 
 informed, is unquestionably a great deficiency, and 
 a just reproach. He however certainly had much of 
 the substance of the volumes of the great Doctors, 
 Clarke, Tillotson, and Taylor, floating in his memory. 
 In early life, he adopted another course of reading 
 and study; and although, at one time (1798,) he 
 
 * To affect any eulogy of Doctor Johnson would appear to an English 
 man, as an encomium of Hercules would to an ancient Greek presump 
 tuous and unnecessary a pitiable and futile attempt " to guard a title 
 that was rich before." Unhappily such is not the case in Ireland. Many 1 
 Irishmen, even of letters, treat the Doctor's memory with a boyish, idle, 
 ill-informed, supercilious contempt rnen, who indeed know his character 
 only from some half-told anecdotes of occasional irritation, sudden erup 
 tions of a too great and wounded sensibility, without the causes which 
 produced the explosion, or a knowledge of the circumstances by which it 
 was accompanied, presume to condemn a man, who illustrates by a full 
 and steady blaze of intellectual splendour, his country, his age, and human 
 nature itself; and whose fame spreads per ora virum with civilized life 
 and polished language, through all the nations of the world. 
 
 e 2 
 
XXXVi A SUMMARY 
 
 lost all his manuscripts, the accumulated labour of 
 many years, he subsequently, after an interval of 
 about eight years, and the completion and publication 
 of other works " veteris servans vestigia flam- 
 mce," returned con amore with renewed vigour of 
 mind, and a more ripened understanding to his origi 
 nal and favourite pursuit of geographical history ; 
 and he has left his work complete, as a bequest to his 
 daughters. Of this work, as we mean to speak more 
 at large hereafter in the account of his manuscripts, 
 we shall now only say, that it is not written for any 
 distinct profession of men solely, or appropriately. 
 Its nature is general ; and men of every profession 
 may find delight, and improvement in its perusal. 
 The philosopher, the man of business, the man of let 
 ters, the legislator, may any, and all of them, meet cu 
 rious and useful information spread through its pages, 
 which they may not find in any other work of the same 
 kind and extent. But an inhabitant of these islands, 
 by being enabled, in a comparatively easy manner, to 
 contrast his own condition with that of an inhabitant 
 of any other country, will find most delight, and the 
 greatest lessons of contentment, in its perusal. Such 
 a study is calculated immediately and certainly to in 
 flame the amor patriot of Britons. If Britons take 
 a review of mankind in the various nations and cli 
 mates of the world, they will have little to envy. 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. XXXVii 
 
 In most other nations, they will perceive the physical 
 ills, to which climate exposes mankind, enhanced and 
 exasperated in a manifold degree, by the much more 
 oppressive inflictions of human institutions. They 
 will see poor human nature degraded and oppressed 
 by the most disgusting and cruel superstitions. 
 Throughout all Asia and Africa, with the exception 
 which Britain affords throughout most of America, 
 and much of Europe, they will find the great majo 
 rity of mankind, living in a crouching and precarious 
 dependence on the always capricious and often san 
 guinary will of a few tyrants. Scarcely in any other 
 region of the earth, but their own, will Britons find any 
 guarantee, any law, that is an emanation of the public 
 reason, sufficiently strong, uniform and certain, to 
 protect the public rights against all aggression ; and 
 yet, possessing these qualities, of a spirit sufficiently 
 mitigated and condescending to interpose its shield in 
 favour of the weakest individual, and to cover him 
 most effectually from any self-willed, capricious at 
 tack, of the mightiest man in the land. 
 
 Although Mr. Gordon was a steady preacher of the 
 word of his great Master, and that he composed seve 
 ral sermons clear, impressive, piquant and original, 
 he never perplexed himself or his hearers with the 
 quarrelsome tortuosities of dogmas unintelligible, or 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 hard to be understood. Yea, all of you be doers of the 
 word, and love one another, was the beginning and 
 the end, the alpha and omega of his preaching and 
 his practice. Thus his religion animating his prin 
 ciples, governing his practice and actuating his con 
 duct, spread calmness and peace over his conscience 
 through life, and enabled him, in full possession of 
 his intellectual faculties, to the last moment of his 
 existence, to resign his being in this world, without 
 a pang, or a disturbing sigh, in perfect charity with 
 all mankind, on the 10th April 1819, in his seven 
 tieth year. 
 
 It now remains, that we give in the same rapid, 
 but faithful manner, an account of his publications 
 and of the manuscripts which he has left. The first 
 of them is his Terraquea, or memoirs geographical 
 and historical. Of this work he had in 1T98, pub 
 lished four volumes, when, at the suggestion of a 
 clerical friend, still alive, and by the advice arid en 
 couragement jof his printer, he too inconsiderately 
 undertook to write a succinct account of that distress 
 ing period. Unfortunately (should we say so ?) for 
 his children, he performed his untertaking too much 
 in consonance with the dignified independence of his 
 own mind, to give satisfaction to any party. He par 
 took not of the passions and enthusiasm of the time ; 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 and he wrote as a philosopher at a season when he 
 might have ensured his promotion and made the 
 fortune of his family by writing as a partizan. His 
 prejudices, as well as his reason and his sense of duty, 
 gravitated towards the glorious fabric of the British 
 constitution. He saw that violated and defiled by 
 all parties. He consulted not his power, but the dis 
 position of his heart, in attempting to allay or soften 
 the phrenzy of the times. The motto of his book 
 
 " Truths would you teach, and save a sinking land, 
 " All fear, none aid you, and few understand/' 
 
 was alive in his memory, as an apothegm of instruc 
 tion for others, more than for himself. Hume re 
 lates that Harrison, the author of Oceana, had too 
 much confidence in human reason, and indeed so 
 had Mr. Gordon. He deemed that as it ought, it 
 would be, omnipotent among mankind. He found, 
 and his posterity may still find, that it is in full 
 force only among a few ; but that the thick clouds of 
 hereditary prejudice, and the deadly virus of anti 
 social and conflicting factions, hang over and begloom 
 the minds, and distort the affections of the greater 
 number ; and that the writer who undertakes to 
 present the naked truth, with candour and impar 
 tiality, to a public so constituted, imposes on himself 
 a duty of great difficulty and hazard. Neither party 
 
Xl A SUMMARY 
 
 receives, or is amended by such unpalatable impar 
 tiality ; and he who offers it is condemned as a vic 
 tim by both. It is said that boys are not grateful to 
 their instructors ; but the observation is more gene 
 rally applicable to men. Boys soon outgrow their 
 juvenile distastes, and for the most part become re 
 spectful and fond of their masters : but men are 
 actuated by a stubborn pride and inbred prejudice, 
 w r hich will not bear the probe of reproof, how just 
 or useful soever, if the prescription be not accompa 
 nied by some severe stroke of adversity. In the 
 storm of civil war, the predominating maxim is, 
 that he who is not for me in every thing, is against 
 me in all. The violation of every law, human and 
 divine, is sanctioned by a boisterous zeal for a party. 
 He who reprobates such conduct in his own party, or 
 acknowledges any good property in the opponents, 
 is set down as a hollow and false friend, governed by 
 his fears; or some other equally unjust and unwor 
 thy motive is attributed to him. Where is the man, 
 who, like Mr. Gordon, would stand erect on such an 
 occasion, and dare to do justice to all parties, with 
 the calm impartiality of a true historian ? At such 
 a season, other men may have written with a like 
 unbiassed mind ; but the publication was delayed to 
 after times. We must allow that Mr. Gordon did 
 not sufficiently appreciate this posthumous courage. 
 
ACCOUNT, <&C. Xli 
 
 This work however went through two large editions 
 in England and in Ireland ; and is not now to be 
 found at the booksellers. Even at the time, it ex 
 torted from the superciliousness of those dark and 
 dangerous (dark because anonymous dangerous be 
 cause self-interested, purveyors to the public appetite 
 for censure ; 
 
 Discit enitn citius, meminit que libentius illud, 
 Quod quis deridtty quam quod probat 5f veneraturj 
 
 tribunals, the reviews, a praise for integrity, far above 
 any praise possibly resulting from any effort of the 
 intellect. As the effervescence of zeal evaporates, as 
 the voice of faction sinks into the calm of peace, its 
 value becomes every day higher, in rational and im 
 partial estimation. " Sons shall blush, whose fathers 
 were its foes." It was the first and only work of a 
 general nature, to lift its voice in truth and candour 
 to expose and put to shame the abominations and 
 enormities of the enrages of both sides, with more than 
 a disinterested fidelity, and a fearless integrity, which 
 should for ever endear the author's memory to the 
 wise and good. He presented, or he intended to pre 
 sent, topics of mutual forgiveness to both parties, by 
 shewing them, that each of them had fallen into in 
 temperate and cruel excesses of conduct. The aim 
 
Xlii A SUMMARY 
 
 the object of his book, was evidently to allay and re 
 concile the angry passions of his countrymen, and 
 to unite, in one common bond of citizenship, the 
 whole family of the British people. He indeed 
 always contended in the true spirit of British li 
 berty, and Christian feeling, that even in their er 
 rors, his countrymen, as children of the state, are 
 entitled to a paternal treatment and indulgence. 
 He associated with them in much of the intercourse 
 of life ; and he knew by long and intimate experi 
 ence the fidelity and generosity of their nature, and 
 how susceptible they are of sudden impressions whe 
 ther of good or ill. He lamented the long and egre 
 gious mistakes in the training and management of 
 such valuable elements. He could not divest himself 
 of the opinion, that they would be as good subjects of 
 the law as amenable, and as industrious, orderly 
 and honest, as they undoubtedly are, as kind and 
 sincere, as their fellow-citizens of England, had they 
 been subjected to the same kind of government. But 
 alas, this has not been the case : and we should not 
 attribute to natural and irreclaimable disposition, 
 those defects, imperfections and vices of character, 
 which are equitably to be charged to the account of 
 injudicious, and unsocial laws. On every occasion of 
 danger, or disagreement, the first question of an Eng 
 lishman is Jack, how stands the law is the law ia 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. xliii 
 
 your favour ? " for we do fear the law." If so, all's 
 well. But " an arrogant piece of flesh lords it 
 over" poor Paddy ; and the first question of an Irish 
 man on such an occasion, is not how stands the law ? 
 but how inclines the squire how is his honour af 
 fected towards you ? Is he your friend ? If so, Pat, 
 you are safe. Thank God, this state of things is on 
 the wane and fading from society ; but there are still 
 too many and deep traces of it remaining. The great 
 landed proprietors of Ireland are, for the most part, 
 absentees non-residents. Their Irish affairs are con 
 ducted by agents having no proprietary interest in the 
 soil. Many of the gentry, who do reside, prefer their 
 individual will, or some paltry, apprehended conve 
 nience, to the deep and permanent value of habitual 
 submission to the law ; and in their own practice too 
 often set an example of the law's infraction. Such 
 as in the case of smuggling, illicit distillation, the 
 eluding of payment, or throwing all possible embar 
 rassments against the payment of tythes. Endeavour 
 ing to shift the odium of rack-rents, the prima mali 
 labes, from themselves, against the parson or the ex 
 ciseman ; and on the other hand complaining of the 
 vices of the commonality, as the bars to all national 
 improvement, as if the instruments of practical wis 
 dom, were the true, and only impediments to the adop- 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 tion of good sense and right feeling. It is thus, that 
 some men travel in a circle, and make one part of their 
 injustice, an excuse for the other. It is thus, too, 
 that the beneficent wisdom of the law is too often not 
 only thwarted, and rendered nugatory; but made 
 oppressive and vindictive quid leges sine moribus 
 vance proficiunt. Whenever Ireland shall have 
 enjoyed a resident gentry, equal and social laws, 
 when all her magistrates shall have been appointed 
 and recognised by law ; for, as Hooker says, " the voice 
 of law, is the voice of God ;" her morals, her learning 
 and manners will be found to correspond with the ge 
 nerous elements of her people. " Read," says a philo 
 sophical poet, " a nation's history in its eyes." Who, 
 then, that has known Ireland, and that has seen, or read 
 of other countries, thirty years ago, and can see, or 
 read now, but must acknowledge her improved con 
 dition out of all proportion with other countries ? 
 The repeal and relaxation of so many of the anti 
 social, penal laws, re-awaked the stupified faculties 
 of her people. Those barriers to national happiness 
 and improvement being removed, every social ad 
 vantage has flowed on the land in just proportion, 
 and will continue to flow, as the work proceeds. 
 Proceed it will. Reason and utility ensure its pro 
 gress to full completion. Provident fathers, cordial 
 neighbours, and good citizens, are its offspring social 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. xlV 
 
 prosperity its effects generous emulation, gentle 
 manly pride, kind domestic feelings, and natural 
 strength, its consequences. It is easy, and to a weak 
 head or a bad heart, it is alluring, to plant a man's 
 foot in a faction, and to regard a fellow-citizen as an 
 enemy ; but the true patriot and the true Christian 
 prefers the interest of his country to that of any 
 party, and though he will in turn be abused by all, 
 like the immortal Grattan, his mind is bent only 
 on peaceable and social adjustments. Let Greece, 
 or America hold out to their gullible admirers, 
 their banners of freedom, inscribed on one side, 
 with the titles of religious liberty and civil equa 
 lity, and shew on the other a band of miserable helots, 
 hunted like beasts for sport, or a no less miserable 
 group of enchained slaves, staked as a wager at 
 hazard, by a drunken American patriot. But let the 
 sons of Britain all the subjects of her wide empire, 
 unfold the code of her laws, to animate, or to shame 
 the nations to extinguish all kinds, names, and de 
 grees of slavery, from the face of the earth ; " and 
 gather in its shade the living world :" for indeed not 
 only man, but the very brute creation, have rights 
 under and are protected by British law, which con 
 tains the salient principle of excellence in all things, 
 and a recuperative spirit, redeeming all past mistakes. 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 Mr. Gordon's next work is a history of Ireland, in 
 two volumes octavo. Of this work we may confi 
 dently say, that it is what it pretends to be ; a clear 
 and distinct relation of all the valuable and well 
 authenticated facts of Irish history, in a just and im 
 partial manner. This work passed through two 
 editions, and is now rarely to be found, except in 
 private libraries. His next and last published work 
 is a history of the British Islands, in four volumes 
 octavo. This work is excellently adapted to give a 
 clear and correct view of the general history of the 
 British system of islands, from the earliest period to 
 our own time, and would be advantageous to the 
 higher classes of schools ; as also to recal and refresh, 
 in a luminous manner, the facts of British history 
 fading on the memory of those who have studied it 
 in more detailed and extensive publications. 
 
 We come now to speak of the Manuscripts which 
 he has left. These, with the four volumes already 
 published, complete the memoirs geographical and 
 historical of the entire globe. He has also left an 
 historical memoir of the church of Ireland, not quite 
 perfected. 
 
 The plan which he pursued in the execution of 
 his great work, is, in the first place, to describe all 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. xlvii 
 
 the prominent features, and distinguishing charac 
 teristics of the earth, and its inhabitants. He then 
 descends to the description of particular countries. 
 His researches appear accurate and extensive ; his plan 
 satisfactory and full. The work has a cast of origi 
 nality running through it, that distinguishes it from 
 any work of the kind hitherto published, and evinces 
 it to be the offspring of a mind, which having long 
 and powerfully considered, had well prepared and 
 concocted its subject. The work is therefore not got 
 up in the spirit of a book-maker, who stitches various 
 shreds torn from the writings of others ; and hangs 
 them as it were, without comparing and weighing 
 their coherence and value unconnectedly together, in 
 form of a motley, heterogeneous tissue of tawdry 
 patch- work. He mounts to the sources and original 
 authorities he compares, weighs, and selects from 
 them, all the discriminating features illusrative of his 
 subject. Although the web be confessedly and neces 
 sarily of foreign materials, its texture is all his own 
 hoc stabat, hoc est imitandits. In this he deserves 
 praise in this he is to be imitated* 
 
 The narrator has since the death of his friend (from 
 April to July 1819,) devoted most of his hours of 
 relaxation from the duties of his profession, with all 
 the calmness, and impartiality, that his mind allows* 
 
Xlviii A SUMMARY 
 
 to the examination and comparison of these manu 
 scripts, with the treatises of Guthrie, of Payne, of Pink- 
 erton, and of Play fair, (with whose work, he has 
 had for many years, some acquaintance,) and he has 
 confident hope, that whenever the public shall have a 
 fair opportunity of deciding they will agree with 
 him, that his friend's production, has advantages and 
 excellencies not to be found in them. It is not his 
 purpose, nor is it the right of a person circumstanced 
 as he is, obscure and unknown, invidiously or detract- 
 ingly to speak of these writers. They are valuable 
 and eminent compilers, particularly Pinkerton and 
 Playfair* However, since they wrote, new informa 
 tion has been acquired. The old and the new world 
 have been more fully explored regions then entirely 
 unknown, or imperfectly known, have been since 
 visited by scientific and literary men, with all appli 
 ances and means to acquire and communicate intelli 
 gent information. The world, if I may so express 
 myself, has been extended by the the enterprizing re 
 search of more modern travellers. New Strabos and 
 new Pausaniases, endowed with all the accessions, 
 which time has added to science, since the days of these 
 ancients, have thrown a clearer and a steadier light on 
 geographical history. The illustrious Hurnboldt, and 
 our still more illustrious countryman, Clarke, (more 
 illustrious as displaying equal science andimmeasura- 
 
ACCOUNT, &<% 
 
 bly more learning, on ground much more difficult, 
 because much oftener trodden, where readers can 
 not be entertained by stupendous novelty, or dazzled 
 by a display of easily observed, but attractive because 
 strange phenomena,) with a host of other travellers of 
 great, though inferior celebrity, have in our days, vi 
 sited the new and the old world. Of the wealth of 
 all these writers Mr. Gordon has ably and fully avail 
 ed himself, as is evident by the references to their 
 works in his M.SS. Independently too of this consi 
 deration, conclusive as it is, to authorize a publica 
 tion of them, it is and will always be of value to a 
 reader to know how the same subject presents itself 
 to; and may be handled by different minds. It will 
 always afford delight and improvement to all readers 
 of sound intellect and good taste, to survey the effects 
 of new combinations, and various modifications, which 
 the materials common to all may be made to assume, 
 when arranged and displayed by a man, who, like 
 our author, had, by reading, by study and reflection, 
 fully enabled himself to treat it, in a masterly man 
 ner. This work enables us to compare the different 
 modes of human life to weigh different systems of 
 opinion. It introduces us to an acquaintance with 
 our fellow-creatures, as they are variously modified 
 by climate, or human institutions It exhibits a bold, 
 
 9 
 
1 A SUMMARY 
 
 connected, and panoramic view of all the great fea 
 tures, distinctions, curiosities and productions of the 
 earth, with theepocs, and revolutions of nations. We 
 come now to speak of his manuscript memoir of the 
 church of Ireland, which he has left unfinished. At 
 tached to the Establishment as Mr. Gordon was by all 
 the motives of duty and interest, of reason and preju 
 dice, he nevertheless thought that it requires the un 
 ceasing vigilance of the supreme authority of the state 
 
 .to prevent the inroads of abuse, to shape its course, 
 and to model its conduct agreeably to the changing 
 tone and progress of human reason, and the consequent 
 wants of society. He thought, that some settled regu 
 lation should be adopted to secure old, and respectable 
 clergymen a preference at least to appointments in 
 the Church. He agreed that liberal birth, and edu 
 cation, and the spirit of a gentleman are solid requi 
 sites in the collective character of a clergyman ; but he 
 did not agree, that even these things should exclude 
 the reward of services, so that promotion in the church 
 should be actually, and in practice, a private con 
 sideration, to be decided per saltum, without any 
 reference to the merits and service of the nominee. 
 
 He therefore thought that a parliamentary enquiry 
 into the state of the church, occasionally, would be 
 of great service to the cause of truth and public mo 
 rals. He deemed it a fortunate circumstance for this 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. K 
 
 empire, that the hierarchy is iudissolubly bound up 
 with the civil establishment, as he knew not by what 
 other provision of human wisdom, the clashing of 
 these authorities can be so effectually avoided. Al 
 though he never fell into the silly sophism which 
 confounds the establishment of religion with the soul 
 and substance of religion itself, he was decidedly of 
 opinion, that the legalized establishment of religion, 
 and the incorporation of ecclesiastical magistrates, 
 with the other public authorities, mainly contribute 
 to the maintenance and spread of liberally religious 
 sentiments, and of a generous morality thoughout 
 society. Maintaining, however, the balance of his 
 mind in just equipoise, he concluded that an esta 
 blishment designed and instituted for the advantage 
 of society, partakes of the nature of society itself, and 
 should not be considered as bound by an irrevoca 
 ble law, excluding it from a fair participation in 
 the growing improvements of society. As the im 
 provements of society are gradual and tentative 
 silently and insensibly revolutionary in their na 
 ture and progress, he thought that all public 
 establishments should be so also; and that their 
 being so considered and so conducted, precluded 
 all apprehension of tumultuary and revolutionary 
 violence. He was not disposed to condemn establish- 
 
 9 2 
 
Hi A SUMMARY 
 
 ments, as things useless to the manhood of society 9 
 and which society having outgrown, no longer needs, 
 and would even do well to reject and destroy them, 
 as monastic, unsocial incumbrances. His philosophy 
 taught him better ; and he saw in the overthrow of 
 establishments, only a voluntary, rash, and wicked 
 anticipation of the decrepitude of age ; or rather a 
 presumptuous, insane return to the imbecility of 
 childhood, the infancy of society. Wisdom, he well 
 knew, has always two extremes to combat and bear 
 up against: on the one hand, she must encounter the 
 blind admirers of antiquity, " annosa volumina va- 
 tum," and the friends of every abuse ; and on the 
 other she must maintain herself against the empirical 
 dogmatism of petticoat philosophers, and self-plumed 
 enthusiasts, who utterly abandon the realities of life, 
 and would build the whole structure of society and 
 government on the idle chimeras of inexperienced 
 heads. The course between these two adverse follies 
 is indeed parvo discrimine lethi: but wisdom must 
 make good her passage, and she can do so by firmly 
 grasping the helm, and steadily holding on her 
 course in the middle space. Establishments were in 
 their origin, improvements on the then state of so 
 ciety. Let the principle of improvement, which gave 
 them* birth, preside over their existence, and they 
 will run on imperishably through ages, as banks of 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. liii 
 
 accumulation, from which posterity may draw 
 best principles of religion, science, and letters. He 
 was deeply impressed with the conviction, that every 
 sect of religionists having power so to do (not recog 
 nized and identified with the state,) would act as 
 rivals to, or disturbers of, the state* He too well 
 knew how deep and how salutary religious impres 
 sions are in the minds of mankind, to conclude 
 that the ministers of a predominant religion 
 should be left to float at large in society ; to main 
 tain their holds over the minds and consciences 
 of its citizens, while those ministers theirselves 
 have no legaj appropriate share in the public esta 
 blishments of their country. He was too great a 
 friend to toleration and peace, not to set the ministers 
 of a predominant religion entirely at their ease in 
 social connexion with the state. He knew that no 
 such connexion exists in America ; but he did not 
 therefore deem her situation more happy, fortunate 
 or wise. He thought it belongs to this empire, to set 
 the example, not only to America, but to all other 
 countries, of internal and domestic legislation, and 
 that only shallow politicians, men flushed with the 
 self-importance and intoxication of sudden riches, 
 or with the vanity of unfledged knowledge, would 
 propose America, as a model. Britain, he would say, 
 is surely right in interweaving her religion into the 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 system of her political constitution. She is thus 
 enabled to tolerate all sects, and to maintain com 
 plete controul over the ministers of her own reli 
 gion ; and to obviate all the dangers arising from 
 a divided authority. The scheme of her govern 
 ment is thus adjusted in perfect conformity to the 
 order of society itself, duly participating in all its 
 natural elements. The interests of all, are thus sub 
 stantially and firmly linked together, and blended in 
 one harmonious compound. She has solved the prob 
 lem, which has so long, and will so much longer still, 
 perplex and weaken other nations. " The harmo 
 nious moderation, (see Laing's hist. Scot. vol. 3, page 
 289,) which is observable in America from the shores 
 of the Atlantic, to the banks of the Ohio," may be as 
 clearly observed and with much more impressive and 
 edifying phenomena in Britain. It may moreover 
 be observed, that British moderation ensures a greater 
 portion of good public and private morals. Is much 
 more congenial to all rational propensities, and intel 
 lectual advancement, and improvement of all descrip 
 tions than the random course at present pursued in 
 America. The learned author (Mr. Laing) seems on 
 this occasion, to unaccountably forsake his great intel 
 lectual acumen and expansive understanding. He 
 states, that men may choose their religious instructors 
 in America, as they do their medical or legal advisers. 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. Iv 
 
 The right is not disputed in this empire more than in 
 America. The difference is, that with us, the religi 
 ous instructors of the establishment at least must be 
 (and it is admitted to be a delect, that all are not) 
 theirselves instructed, by a previous course of regu 
 lated study and discipline. Medical and legal doctors 
 are, we presume, even in America, subjected to some 
 previous course of study and probation, before they 
 are allowed to launch into life, to tamper with the 
 health and fortunes of their fellow-citizens. JVfe sutor 
 ultra crepidam, is an approved maxim of homely 
 wisdom, ratified by all experience, although some 
 times even great and learned philosophers overlook its 
 value. It argues a low, rustic, clownish, unimproved 
 state of society, where quacks in any of the liberal pro 
 fessions, are prevalent. But to establish quackery by 
 law, or to leave the thing unprovided against by the 
 laws, institutions and regulations of society, is not the 
 part of a wise legislation, which always (legibiis 
 emendat) looks forward to the improvement of the 
 corning generations. The religious peace, which it 
 is, as it were triumphantly boasted, that America 
 enjoys, is really not a lively, animating, emulative 
 peace pregnant with the improvement of society; 
 but a dull, incurious, unintellectual, Turkish sloth, 
 stupidly content with mere animal gratification. The 
 American clergy (should we call them such ?) con- 
 
]vi A SUMMARY 
 
 sole their congregations less by their holiness, than 
 by a mean, quiescent, servile submission to the ig 
 norant preconceptions, of their unconnected, un 
 church-like congregations; and in nothing elevate or 
 .adorn their country, or illustrate themselves by ge 
 nius, talents, or learning. Their religious instructors 
 are rather begging petitioners by licence, than doctors 
 of the Church of Christ by legal authority. The 
 Americans' horror of the priesthood has so begloomed 
 their minds and overshadowed their understandings, 
 that their laws and institutions leave their people so 
 naked and exposed to the vile arts and seduction of 
 ignorant cant, and cunning hypocrisy, that genius or 
 wisdom, or learning can never take root among them. 
 That America may hereafter emerge from this next 
 to Cimmerian darkness, is not denied ; but she must 
 change, or rather adopt a system, and pursue the 
 course, which has elevated other nations; and which 
 now elevates Britons "beyond all Greek, beyond all 
 Roman fame." 
 
 Why should the political constitution of America 
 be extolled in any respect, as a model of excellence ? 
 In what does its merit consist ? What practical or 
 theoretical superiority can it boast ? In its leading 
 features, it is British to be sure ; but it is British 
 sadly caricatured, mutilated, and distorted. The 
 
ACCOUNT, xfcfc. Ivii 
 
 state of the population in America its fewness, and 
 thinness compared with the vast extent of its terri 
 tory, render it easier to supply the mere animal 
 wants of a growing family there, than in most parts 
 of Europe. The same attraction exists in many other 
 countries. It is a blessing not attributable to the po 
 litical constitution, which is by no means calculated 
 to remove or soften the evils of poverty, and those 
 ills, which in all countries, by the predispositions of 
 Providence attend on the inequality of mankind. In 
 no country in the w r orld is the insolence of wealth 
 harsher or more disgusting to an ingenuous mind, 
 than in America. There indeed et genus <$ virtus, 
 nisi cum re vilior alga. There indeed "laws grind 
 the poor, and rich men rule the law." America has 
 not sufficiently recovered from her anger, just un 
 doubtedly in its causes, and nobly vindicated in the 
 result. So far the aspirations of every manly mind 
 will go with America. But surely the prolongation 
 of anger is humiliating and derogatory to a state of 
 acknowledged independence. Anger now looks like 
 the puff -of self-importance at the acquirement of 
 something undeserved, unearned, and unhoped for. 
 It is an obstacle to the calm adjustment of her civil 
 and political system, conformably to the settled anal 
 ogies and universal propensities of the human mind. 
 
 h 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 The spirit and tone of her institutions, seem rather 
 calculated to continue and confirm, than to correct 
 and improve, the vulgarity of her manners. When 
 her knowledge shall have acquired the ripeness and 
 circumspection of age, she may possibly discover, that 
 hereditary honours are useful to secure, embody, 
 transmit, and enhance the acquisitions of society. 
 That the glory of her fathers can, in no other so ani 
 mating a form, descend to her children, and spread 
 an established and lasting dignity an illuminating 
 brightness, cheering and warm, over her land. That 
 the morality of her citizens, her literary acquirements, 
 and intellectual refinement, will be more certainly 
 ensured, when her establishments shall have im 
 parted a public and legalized support to the ministers 
 of religion ; and through them, to religion itself; 
 without which all pretences to morality are false and 
 hollow. America may, in some future time, disco 
 ver that an established church is an ordonnance of 
 God an institution by special revelation from heaven, 
 not to be left to the dark and capricious acceptance of 
 individuals, and never to be neglected with impunity* 
 That the bonds of her union must be drawn much 
 closer, that the links of her own confederation must 
 be turned again on the anvil, and forged anew by 
 abler legislators, than she can yet boast of; and the 
 power of her legislature much strengthened and sira- 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. 
 
 plified by coverting the present quasi legantine cha 
 racter of her representatives into full and perfect 
 legislators, liberally confided in, and elected because 
 they have a solid, rooted, and unshakeable ground of 
 attachment to and stake in their country's prosperity ; 
 and for a span of time sufficient to give stability and 
 consistence to their enactments. That her executive 
 must be reformed from its feebleness, and placed be 
 yond all chance of corruption, or temptation by any 
 foreign state ; and rendered hereditary, in order for 
 ever to preclude the enormous dangers of its becoming, 
 in future times, an apple of discord for contending 
 factions. That her judges must add the spirit of gen 
 tlemen to their knowledge of law ; and her priests 
 (soi disant) a knowledge of letters to their spirit of 
 godliness That she must have formed, and intimately 
 connected with the vital stamina of her constitution 
 many assemblages of learned men many academies, 
 colleges, and universities. That she must have wiped 
 out the deep stain of domestic slavery, and trade in 
 human blood That she must have liberalized her 
 liberty, purified her morals, and established her cleri 
 cal order if not by a system of doctrine, at least by 
 a system of learning, connection, and discipline. That 
 until she shall have thus changed her course, remo 
 deled and improved her institutions, and begot a more 
 liberal, confiding and generous spirit in the whole 
 
 h 2 
 
]X A SUMMAKY 
 
 system of her domestic polity, she can have no title to 
 be mentioned, as an instructress and exemplar to other 
 nations. Indeed she seems in most of the great es 
 sentials of wise and enlarged legislation to be hut lit 
 tle, if at all, before the worst of the European go- 
 vernmerits, always excepting Turkey, which although 
 having dominion in Europe, is Asiatic in principle 
 and constitution ; and Spain, which appears to be 
 bowed down in stupid submission to a benighted, un 
 mixed and unalloyed hierocracy, 
 
 Mr. Gordon deemed the most enlarged compre 
 hensiveness in the articles of the Church, consistent 
 with the essential doctrines of Christianity, to be the 
 surest and most advantageous mode of producing the 
 greatest unity and steadiness in essential and substan 
 tial religion* and that all those Christians, whose ex 
 alted piety and understanding give them the lead 
 among mankind, now perfectly agree among them 
 selves in essential and substantial religion that how 
 far soever they may diverge in opinion, or spread 
 asunder in verbal definitions or polemic apprehensions 
 on secondary and subordinate topics, they will all be 
 found, ever reunited in sentiment, respecting the fun 
 damental esseritials, and vital substance of religion, 
 and its everlasting utility not merely to man indi 
 vidually considered, but to the greatest empire. Re- 
 
ACCOUNT, <v Ixi 
 
 ligioTi is the fealty of the human mind ; it is a lively 
 acknowledgement of gratitude and submission, as 
 much due by the greatest empire, as by the humblest 
 individual. Before its tribunal, both are equally fee 
 ble. To be forgetful of it, in either, argues a stolid 
 and pitiable ingratitude to the great Giver of all good; 
 and draws its punishment along with it* The indivi 
 dual loses the best solace,, and the most animating 
 principle of his existence. The greatest empire thus 
 forgetful of its- weakness, and absorbed in its pride and 
 self-sufficiency, enervates the strongest arm of its 
 strengthyand rashly renounces* or foregoes the influence, 
 which it might otherwise possess over the minds of its 
 citizens. But the establishment of religion seems im 
 perative on the greatest empire, as much as an habitual 
 religious impression is valuable to an individual, or 
 even more so. An -individual' may forget, or forsake 
 his duty for a season. The first blow of misfortune 
 awakens conscience, and forcibly recalls a man to 
 his duty. Empires have no such monitors. If their 
 principles be erroneous, they continue to flounder on 
 in sickly and feeble existence in turbulence and 
 faction ; cradles for all the bad passions which afflict 
 human nature. The empire which embraces and 
 adheres to right principles is never sickly never 
 feeble. It flourishes green in age, equally as in 
 youth : branches may be pruned off, or decay trun- 
 cus viret, semperque virebit. 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 Time, which alters all things earthly, may have ren 
 dered a change necessary, not in the spirit and sub 
 stance of Christianity, but in the mode of its adapta 
 tion to the wants of man in an altered state of society. 
 It would therefore perhaps be found, on a revision of 
 the thirty-nine articles, by the proper authority, in our 
 time, now that enquiry and discussion have begot a bet 
 ter temperament, and spread a brighter, a steadier, and 
 a holier light, over the Christian world, that they can 
 advantageously be rendered more comprehensive, 
 without detriment to their substance or their science. 
 To their substance, because they are gospel-truths 
 to their science, because they are instituted for them 
 only who are properly ordained, as having a scien 
 tific knowledge of the principles of their profession. 
 
 It was Mr. Gordon's opinion, that the government 
 of this empire has not been sufficiently attentive to 
 the vast national and individual utility of spreading 
 school-establishments in connection with the great 
 university and collegiate establishments, through 
 every district of its territory, in descending grada 
 tions, adapted to the solid instruction and suitable 
 training of the humblest of the people in religious 
 and moral habits. He was fully aware, that the 
 human undestanding does not endure a vacuity, and 
 that it is prone to run into incalculable and obstinate 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. Ixiii 
 
 errors on these vital subjects, wlien left to the feeble, 
 unconnected efforts of its own. unassisted powers: 
 that even should a man, by a lucky chance, hap 
 pily fall into a right course of thinking on these 
 subjects, he still finds himself at sea, unsupported 
 and unconnected, dependent on his native individual 
 energies alone, to assist him against the winds and 
 billows, which continually assail him in the voyage 
 of life. He conceived it therefore the bounden duty 
 of the supreme authorities of the state, which in 
 respect to the public, are in this regard, in loco pa- 
 rentis, to provide such establishments, and to make 
 such arrangements universally, that the human 
 mind, even in the humblest situations and rank of 
 life, shall receive a right nourishment and due direc 
 tion, which may influence its conduct during the 
 whole course of life. He did not think, that the 
 $routh of the country should be left to the chance 
 direction and training of unconnected, and perhaps, 
 blind guides aye, and may be, perverse and mis 
 chievous guides ; or to the casual influence of cheap 
 
 tracts,^ which, for the most part, they cannot even 
 
 * 
 
 * It must not be understood, from the above, that Mr. Gordon was 
 averse from the dissemination of cheap, judiciously written, tracts. He, 
 in fact, co-operated in that scheme. He however did not deem it, even 
 in conjunction with the Bell, or Lancaster Schools, a full and sufficient 
 plan of national education. 
 
A NUMMARY 
 
 read, and which their habits have never been formed 
 to relish, or even to darkly understand. He did not 
 deem it a system of national education to have youth 
 instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, only. 
 He did not think that thus to impart an arm of some 
 strength to human beings, which they may use in 
 differently for the public detriment or the public 
 service, without the guidance of religion, morality, 
 or established authority, whether on the cheap, com 
 pendious, and fashionable plan of Doctor Bell, or 
 Mr. Lancaster, was a full and satisfactory plan of na 
 tional education. He knew that reading, writing, and 
 cyphering, (as Cuddy Headrigg calls them) are things 
 quite compatible with the most absurd, wild, stupid, 
 and mischievous opinions respecting the fundamental 
 ordonnances and duties, which should regulate and 
 govern the constitution of society. That they, in 
 fact, have neither a necessary nor a natural tendency 
 to give any salutary direction to the human under 
 standing. They do not train up the child in the way 
 he should go. They implant no habit of order, reli 
 gion, or morality. They give a boy some ease and 
 firmness in his steps ; but they do not instruct him 
 in the least as to the course most necessary for him 
 self and the public, that he should pursue in life. 
 They subject him in a very slight degree to mental 
 discipline, or intellectual habits, and they do not con- 
 
ACCOUNT, &e. 
 
 nect his ideas with any authority. They teach 
 him no duty either to God, or man They may 
 as readily become instruments of insubordination, as 
 of obedience. Not so with a right education, incul 
 cated by proper heads, and connected with the public 
 authorities. Mr. Gordon was indeed well aware, for 
 he knew that human legislation can work only by mo 
 ral causes, that after all, the best arranged system of 
 national education, spreading the vigilance of its wisr 
 dom, by the most suitable and sufficient instructors, 
 throughout every district of the country, can effect, 
 some tares will still be found to spring up in the mo 
 ral, as well as in the natural world. But still the 
 proverb holds strongly and significantly, that he who 
 sows not good seed, sows and will reap tares. Pro 
 vident legislators take care wisely and prospectively 
 to cultivate the soil, and to sow good seed. Provident 
 legislators well know that youth is the season, in 
 which to give a right direction to the human mind 
 that it can then, and then only, be easily and cheaply 
 moulded to the shape which it ought to assume and 
 retain through life. The impressions then made on 
 it, will last long, 
 
 Qu<e semel est imbuta recens, servabit odorem, 
 Testa diu. 
 
1XV1 A SUMMARY 
 
 Should we not therefore conclude, that the errors of 
 opinion are, for the most part, involuntary, and are 
 rather to be pitied than despised ; rather to be treated 
 with emollient than caustic remedies : and are much 
 more easily prevented by the universal spread of a 
 right education, than to be rooted out by the repul 
 sive violence of harsh, restrictive, and ungrateful laws ? 
 For it must be allowed, that most of them, and of the 
 conduct flowing from them, are the effects of ill- 
 training and consequent ignorance, evidences much 
 more of the weakness of the human understanding, 
 when left to its own unassisted guidance, than of the 
 malevolence of the human heart : attributable much 
 more to the defects of man's education, than even to 
 the perverseness of his understanding. If the esta 
 blishments for public instruction, were as sedulously 
 organized, as eagerly supported, as widely spread, and 
 as deeply fixed, as those of the military, British society 
 would, in another generation, wear a more contented, 
 placid, and peaceable aspect. If half the pains and mo 
 ney were expended to train up youth, to model them to 
 habits of public and private virtue, that are consumed to 
 punish vices, and repress errors, society would make 
 more rapid advances, in civility, than it does. Youth 
 would be then trained in useful, uniform, and social 
 principles, and not left, as they are now, to preceptors, 
 unconnected in views,in discipline, and authority, with 
 
ACCOUNT, &c, Ixvii 
 
 the great national establishments and public function 
 aries of their country. Self-restraint, an inbred re 
 gard for order, and a rational, manly submission to 
 authority, would be generally worked into the peo 
 ple's habits. The best interests of society would spring 
 from the culture, and grow to the greatest public and 
 private happiness. The weeds of pernicious opinion, 
 which darken life, and lessen its comforts, would be 
 so effectually thinned by such a process, as no longer 
 to endanger the harvest. 
 
 It is surely an undeniable principle, howsoever it 
 may have been hitherto practically overlooked, or 
 neglected, that the public instruction is one of the first 
 duties of the supreme authority of the state. If it 
 were not so, by what right can the publication of 
 opinions detrimental to the public happiness, and the 
 good of society be enquired into and punished ? It is 
 much easier, as well as more consonant with good 
 ness, to implant right propensities in youth, than to 
 cracinate wrong ones in advanced age. If the publia 
 authorities neglect the duty of public instruction, the 
 people are left to themselves, to provide for the defi 
 ciency as well as they can. If then the people may 
 have been instructed in opinions, and reared up with 
 tendencies detrimental to the public interest and so- 
 
 4.2 io 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 cial order, those opinions and tendencies must be 
 rooted out or counteracted by force by the force of 
 arms: a dreadful remedy for an evil, which a due 
 vigilance and faithful fulfilment of their duty on the 
 part of the supreme authorities of the country, would 
 most effectually have prevented. Had those authori 
 ties been as serious and vigilant in establishing the 
 means of national cultivation ; in providing suitable 
 institutions and instructors, for training, modeling* 
 and directing the understandings of the youth of so 
 ciety, as they are, in repressing their full grown, ob 
 stinate, noxious, and dangerous propensities, the circle 
 of their own duties would long since have been much 
 narrowed, their course smoothened, their prospects 
 cheered and extended on all sides : gleams of joy 
 and gladness, instead of sullenness, discontent , and de 
 fiance would have opened around them. And surely 
 it is, as much the interest, as it is the duty, of the su 
 preme authorities of the state, that the youth of the 
 country should receive a salutary and due direction* 
 It belongs to such a timely wisdom, to such a provi 
 dent care, as that which we have been contemplating, 
 to relieve them from the painful necessity of those, or 
 at least most of those inflictions, which cast an odium 
 on authority. And no country under the sun, has so 
 strong a claim as Britain, for such beneficent attention 
 of its legislators. No other country is so much ex- 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. IxiX 
 
 posed to sudden and violent inroads on its religion, 
 morals, literature, and subordination, from the conti 
 nual flux and reflux of foreigners, from the indiscri 
 minate intercourse of its citizens, and their commix 
 ture with all the nations of the world. From the 
 dissoluteness and mutual corruption of manufactories* 
 Still further, and in a predominating degree, and in 
 a more dangerous quarter, from the rapid growth of 
 wealth, iii the commercial classes, out of all propor 
 tion with the progress of a real, liberal cultivation, 
 and the inherent checks which it never fails to furnish, 
 against the self- plumed presumption of the human 
 mind. If ever the British constitution perish, the 
 ruin will be brought on, not by the corruption of the 
 legislature, (for no earthly power can corrupt it) or 
 from the corruption of any of its branches, king, lords, 
 or commons, or by the sword of its army ; but by the 
 spread of wealth among its people, in a degree out of 
 all proportion with a well connected, well disciplined, 
 national education from a want of an habitual, esta 
 blished national training of all orders of citizens, im 
 planting in them, in early youth, a sense of their social 
 duties, with mo> e solicitude, and in a greater degree 5 
 than of any acuteness in letters arid science, which 
 are in no danger of not being sufficiently cultivated, 
 tending as they do directly to the illustration of the 
 individual* But the mind of the country should be 
 
1XX A SUMMARY 
 
 nationalized, as well as its wealth and power- The 
 rays of its intellect should be trained to converge and 
 contribute to the general glory and harmony. They 
 have a natural tendency to scatter and spread wide, 
 in a manner dangerous to public union, authority, 
 and strength. To accomplish an end apparently so 
 desirable, it needs only to extend and diffuse off 
 shoots in all directions from, and still in connection 
 with, the great parent seminaries already in exist 
 ence. It only requires to revise and enlarge the 
 plan of national education. To do that on a well- 
 arranged system of union and subordination, which 
 individuals, and societies of individuals, do now, on 
 the glimmering lights of tyros in knowledge. Let 
 a board of education, consisting of the heads of 
 the church, and of the universities, be invested 
 by the legislature with power and means to bring 
 a real, moral, religious education home to the 
 lowest, as well as the highest ranks of society, and 
 the thing w T ill be done. Let the principle be once 
 agreed on new lights will every day spring up to 
 purify and improve it. Half a generation will not 
 have passed off, when the clamours of faction and dis 
 content will have died away. The poor man's cot 
 tage, when its inmates shall have been thus early 
 trained in the way they should go, will then no 
 longer envy the palace of the great. The peasant 
 
ACCOUNT, <&C. 
 
 will have been taught, that the great ones of the 
 earth are as useful to him, in the scheme of society, 
 as he is to them ; and all will be embraced " in one 
 wide system of benevolence." Finally, in justice to 
 Mr. Gordon's memory, it is right to explain, in a 
 few words, his political opinions. It is the more so, 
 because they have been utterly mistaken and misre 
 presented. It was in:leed his misfortune, or his 
 happiness, to sometimes entertain different senti 
 ments from the decisions of authority ; but he' was 
 not prone to infer, that the authority which he dis 
 sented from was less pure or less incorrupt than 
 himself" hane veniam dam as petimus que vicis- 
 sim" He, like the great imperturbable champion of 
 political freedom, and his country's honour, the il 
 lustrious Charles Fox, had studied the history of 
 man and nations, and was of that order of thinking 
 beings, who see events in their causes, and reading, 
 as it were, the future in the past, would prevent 
 those evils which the wisdom of others teaches, at 
 best, only to remedy; and which, perhaps, would 
 not have been remedied, were it not for the provi 
 dential interference of a Russian campain, and the 
 drunken ambition of a despot. 
 
 He understood, as well as Mr. Burke, that the 
 wisest and honestest politicians, must occasionally 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 " vary their means, to attain the unity of their 
 end." This great maxim of social prudence this 
 sound principle of civil wisdom, was not adopted by 
 him to furnish a contingent excuse, or to throw a 
 veil over his own backslidings. He deemed it a 
 maxim of most especial force, and recurrent appli 
 cation, in such a government as that of Britain, com 
 pounded as it is, of all the orders of society, and 
 partaking of all its interests. In such a government, 
 he was well aware, that the most clear and compre 
 hensive minds will often feel real difficulties of opi 
 nion, in deciding on the modification, adjustment, 
 and adoption of very many measures. He could 
 not, however, conceive how a man, at once wise 
 and honest, practised in all the ways of mankind, 
 and long conversant in all the intricacies of public 
 life, should designate " kings, as lovers of low com 
 pany," and yet regard and throw the mantle of his 
 eloquence around them, as if beings almost super 
 human, and of authority indefeasible. Mr. Gordon 
 did indeed deem this a kind of sailing north by 
 south, not to be acquired by the ablest navigator, 
 taught in any honest school of political traversing. 
 He could not, like Mr. Burke, perceive in what, 
 the right of the American people to revolt and 
 independence from the comparatively mild and pa 
 ternal government of Britain, was more sacred and 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. Ixxiii 
 
 excusable than that of the French people, from a 
 grinding and humiliating despotism. He did not 
 confound in his mind, howsoever others might in 
 theirs, the right to an amended and reformed go 
 vernment, with the bloody and disgusting atrocities 
 displayed by Frenchmen : atrocities which, although 
 from their extent arid modes of perpetration, they 
 cast an indelible stain on the French character, can 
 never sink the value of national independence and 
 individual freedom; of law, or liberty, in the mind 
 of any reasonable being in any country. Nay, these 
 very atrocities are calculated to enhance the sacred 
 and eternal value of regulated freedom ; because, in 
 a national sense, such atrocities are the genuine off 
 spring engendered by despotic, unbalanced power, the 
 frightful parent of so numerous ills to mankind. 
 
 Mr. Gordon's admiration of the British constitu 
 tion, was for the aggregate and collective body, and 
 for the manly, rational, and salutary spirit of openess 
 which characterises its operations, and tempers its 
 proceedings. His eyes were not raised in adoration 
 of the throne, as a separate, independent power. 
 There was no sycophancy in his respect : the due, 
 hereditary authority of the crown, limited, and le 
 galized, was, in his opinion, as much a blessing to 
 the people as to the sovereign. Thus circumstanced, 
 
 k 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 thus surrounded by constitutional checks and respon 
 sible ministers, he is exempted from the capricious 
 passions generated by an uncontroulable authority, 
 or prerogative absolute ; and all the dangerous and 
 pernicious consequences resulting from them. Irre 
 sponsible in his own person, and placed at ease, above 
 the reach and fog of all domestic factions, and of all 
 temptations from foreign influence or corruption, the 
 sovereign " has leisure to be good." Thus, not merely 
 his inclinations, but his habits, will be liberalized ; 
 encompassed as he is, by all the motives which human 
 institutions can provide, to engage benevolence, and 
 to ensure the public utility. Nor were Mr. Gordon's 
 affections, or his reason, prostrated to the aristocracy, 
 whose just weight, and liberal, high-bred habits, a 
 cunabulis, he always advocated, in connection with 
 the other parts of the constitution. In his admira 
 tion of an hereditary nobility, connected in constitu 
 tional power, and identified, in social interest, with 
 all the other parts of society, he saw not only a 
 higher polish, but a greater strength given to the 
 barriers of law and liberty. He considered them not 
 only as ' ' Corinthian capitals," but as pillars too, in 
 the edifice of society monolithic shafts, contributing 
 at once to its beauty and duration. Still farther was 
 he from resigning his reason, or his will, to the capri 
 cious, unbalanced, and for the most part, blood-stained 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 tyranny of the democracy a power dangerous to 
 itself, even more than to its opponents an unleavened 
 mass of intellectual matter, a vis concilii expert, 
 executing its own decrees this day, with a blind and 
 fatal promptitude, and to-morrow bowed in stupid 
 idolatry before some Baal of its own creation some 
 military tyrant some Buonaparte, or some -Crom 
 well 
 
 '* The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day." 
 
 He knew, (for he had studied history,) that any 
 of these powers separately considered, affords no pro 
 tection, or guarantee for human happiness ; but that 
 the judicious admixture of all, as happily and for 
 tunately blended in the British constitution, forming 
 the mingled mass of all ranks of the primores populi, 
 the only legitimate law-givers of every country, bids 
 fair to be co-equal with the duration of the human 
 race in this empire, and will most probably influ 
 ence, by the force of its example, the destinies of 
 other nations. 
 
 Mr. Gordon lived to see almost all the hopes, which 
 a patriotic philosopher of a sanguine complexion, can 
 form for his country, realized and placed in a train 
 of illimitable improvement by the truly constitution- 
 
 k 2 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 al principles and conduct of the regency. He lived 
 to see wisdom and vigour combined with every spe 
 cies of public beneficence, in the councils of his coun 
 try. He saw the most perilous and extended war, 
 in which this empire was ever engaged, brought to a 
 most glorious and most advantageous termination. 
 He saw the very name of a Briton a title of respect, 
 and a passport through the world. He lived to see the 
 nations, which were thrown down and shattered by 
 the violence of foreign, military tyranny, reconstruct 
 ed, by British influence and British wisdom ; and re 
 stored to their balance among each other, with im 
 proved arrangement and steadier securities ; and their 
 equipoise thus rendered less liable to any chance of 
 future disturbance. He lived to see the vessel of the 
 state conducted with the most rare skill, in the sud 
 den and violent reflux consequent upon the transit 
 from a most extended warfare of so long duration, to 
 a profund and universal peace. He indeed deemed 
 this civil glory equal, if not superior to any glory 
 that can be gained by the greatest exploits of war. 
 In the exploits of war too, he saw the conduct of his 
 country, and the fame of her heroes, eclipse, in every 
 quarter of the globe, the glories of all other nations. 
 Supereminent above all, he admired the deliverer of 
 the civilized world, his country-man, the immortal 
 Wellington. 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxvii 
 
 As to the charges of corruption made against par 
 liament, he considered them as vague and unfounded 
 charges, mere expressions of jealousy, presumption, or 
 disappointment. He was fully satisfied, that the le 
 gislature, in all its branches, is free from every taint 
 of corruption, or tendency to foreign influence. As 
 to domestic influence, he knew not how any govern 
 ment can be conducted without it. He saw it a living 
 and predominating principle among all ranks and 
 descriptions of men in society. All men of all par 
 ties assist, and confer favours on their friends, rather 
 than on those, who, though perhaps more meritorious, 
 are not so related to them. They who are loudest in 
 their complaints against it, are neither last, nor least 
 in their practice of this great political offence. The an 
 archic, drunken turbulence and swinish gluttony of 
 annual elections, or the phrenetic, bloody tyranny of 
 universal suffrage did not appear to his understanding 
 a cure for this evil, real, or apprehended. Far from 
 considering the boroughs of Britain the cause of its 
 evils, he regarded them, when contemplated as a pro 
 portional part in the actual, practical system, (for, as to 
 theories, paper-constitutions forged on the anvil of 
 metaphysical heads, he utterly despised them) of 
 parliamentary representation, as a public benefit and 
 providential blessing* He regarded them as the 
 doors almost the only doors through which heaven- 
 
i A SUMMARY 
 
 born talents, not accompanied with hereditary for 
 tune, can enter into the sanctuary and management 
 of public affairs. By the intervention of boroughs, 
 he thought that the solid, lumpish, and unleavened 
 matter of the great landed aristocracy, was happily 
 fermented. He saw, that through this door, the 
 greatest statesmen, Britain or any other country 
 has ever exhibited, have passed the Wai poles, the 
 Pits, Fox, Grattan, <fec. He saw that the substantial 
 interests of all ranks, orders, and degrees of men in 
 society, were thus most effectually protected and ad 
 vanced. He judged of the scheme, by the practical 
 benefits which it produces on one hand, and the evils 
 which it wards off on the other. By the proud eleva 
 tion to which it has raised this empire in peace and 
 war, at home and abroad. All experience, all the evi 
 dences of history, all the impressions of fact, real ways 
 beyond the fallacious promise of splendid hypothesis, 
 or audacious conjecture, taught him, that the repre 
 sentative of an obscure borough is as vigilant and bene 
 ficial a legislator, as incorrupt, and understands the 
 interests of the empire, in all its relations, domestic 
 and foreign, as he who is returned by the most exten 
 sive county* Let it be asked, by what conceivable 
 plan can a body of men, more deeply interested in the 
 public prosperity, be collected, than the aggregate body 
 of the present house of Commons, in the imperial par- 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 liament. If it be evident, as it would appear to be, to 
 any calm considerate mind, that it is utterly impracti 
 cable, by any imaginable process, to bring together a 
 body of men more deeply interested in, and more 
 profoundly intelligent, as to the means of promoting 
 the public happiness ; it is then merely puerile and 
 pedantic, to dwell in long-winded, or acrimonious 
 verbiage, on the anomalous, irregular system of elec 
 tion, by which the house of Commons is at present 
 formed. The science of legislation is made up of 
 practical sound sense, and good feeling, and holds on 
 a clearer and a steadier course, than the palpable ob^ 
 scure of merely theoretic wisdom, which never fully 
 applies to, or takes a luminous view of all the cir 
 cumstances of human affairs; and knows not how 
 to make due allowance for the varied friction, and 
 the up-and-down-hill movements of society. 
 
 While the the great bulk of the representatives in 
 the imperial parliament may continue, as they are, 
 fully and to all practical purposes, identified in in 
 terest with the soil of their country, and with the 
 blood and mass of its population, subject in their own 
 persons and estates, to the laws of their own enact 
 ing, and exercising their functions, apertis for ibus, in 
 the face of the public, by whom their individual 
 character and conduct may be scrutinized, there is 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 not only no danger, but not even a possibility of any 
 general corruption running through them. No mi 
 nistry, howsoever profligate, can buy off a majority 
 in the British senate, to betray what they conceive to 
 be the interest of the empire. The grounds of their 
 attachment to their country, are every way in an 
 immeasurable degree stronger than any ministry, 
 even if so disposed, (which is altogether a violent arid 
 gratuitous assumption,) can, with the utmost efforts 
 of his profligacy, even if he had ten times the amount 
 which he possesses of secret and public influence, 
 oppose against them. Ministers are, doubtlessly, 
 obnoxious like other men, to the errors of opinion ; 
 but their obliquity gives no assurance of the recti 
 tude of their opponents. There is no certainty, that 
 the film which obscures the one, may not also bedim 
 the other. They are in unison and analogy with the 
 progress of society not the mushroom contrivance of 
 system-making legislators. 
 
 In Mr. Gordon's opinion the reforrnatian most 
 wanted in the practice of the constitution, and law, 
 lay in the constituency and not in the representative 
 body. It seemed to him desirable to bring back the 
 law to its original spirit and intention, respecting the 
 qualification for freeholders. Time and circum 
 stances have so altered the effective value of money, 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. Ixxxi 
 
 that perhaps thirty pounds a year now, is not more 
 than equal to what two pounds, the qualification of 
 an elector originally was. Such a reformation would 
 not at all disturb the right, or self-protecting influ 
 ence of property, a thing ever to be held sacred by 
 the laws. But it would gradually bring back the 
 tenantry to that state and condition, which they 
 should always enjoy, of a well-fed, well-clothed, well- 
 housed body of men. Such a reformation would not 
 in the least alter the relative weight and consequence 
 of landed property ; and it would effectually check 
 the growth and spread of a poor, ragged,, broken 
 hearted peasantry, now known even by the law, as 
 freeholders. They, who favour the present practice, 
 do not come armed with a very forcible argument 
 against universal suffrage, and mob-government. 
 They rather fortify themselves in the blind hope of 
 rising on the shoulders of a profligate, because poor 
 and beggarly populace, than in the steady and useful 
 attachments of property, on which, the prosperity 
 of human society, is founded. It is however urged, 
 that a man not possessing political power, elective 
 franchise, has no sufficient security for his life and 
 liberty. Laws to which he has never assented by him 
 self, or his representative, may deprive him of both. 
 It is therefore inferred, that every man (and it may, 
 by the same reasoning, be inferred, that every man. 
 
 I 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 woman and child) has a natural, inherent right to 
 an equal share in making the laws, or in appoint 
 ing the law-makers. This sycophantic and delusive 
 jargon is, as false in fact, as it is, in its consequences, 
 subversive of the best interests of society. It is false, 
 that men are equal by nature, or reason. Nature 
 and reason make the inequality between man and 
 man, even greater than human institutions do. 
 The bodily strength and intellectual powers of man 
 and man, differ more widely even than the for 
 tunes of citizen and citizen. All men cannot there 
 fore be equally entitled to political power, by natural 
 law. Society cannot be founded on such a presump 
 tion so much at variance with nature, and with fact* 
 The right to political power is therefore a modifica 
 tion of human convenience (not an abstract principle 
 levelling all conditions) for the advantage of society ; 
 and has, most wisely, been attached to property, as a 
 shield of protection against the blind rapacity of the 
 poor and needy, who are necessarily surrounded by 
 temptations to seize on and disturb property, which 
 the rich and powerful have not to injure life and li 
 berty. On the contrary the natural impulse of the 
 rich and powerful, when established in their rights 
 unassailably, is to protect, by wholesome laws, the 
 life and liberty of the poor and needy, to come to 
 theijc assistance, in all emergencies of sickness, or of 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. Jxxxiii 
 
 sorrow, of hunger or of dearth. But the natural 
 impulse of the poor and needy, is to disturb and appro 
 priate to themselves, the advantages of the rich and 
 powerful, although any individual's share of the 
 plunder could be small indeed. Property therefore, 
 which is the object and the aim of all human indus 
 try, manual and intellectual, requires bulwarks of 
 self-defence, not at all necessary, or useful to men, 
 liot possessed of it. Property generally begets habits 
 tranquil and quiescent. It is therefore useful in a 
 scheme of national representation, that a door should 
 be kept open, by which property can associate to itself 
 other qualities, in sufficient abundance to enliven and 
 enlarge its views. That the talents of the land, of 
 whatsoever description, may be thus, for all useful 
 purposes, sufficiently represented, and enchained to the 
 public service, which, if not thus enlisted, they would 
 otherwise disturb and impair. After all, when we 
 consider the imperial house of commons, a miscella 
 neous mass of all, that is eminent in society, in which 
 also property preponderates ; yet we will find, by the 
 evidence of history, and the analogy of human nature, 
 that were it not balanced on the other side by the house 
 of lords ; and both of these houses, compressed by the 
 great (it is to be doubted whether now sufficiently 
 great) influence of the crown, it would be obnoxious 
 
 k 2 
 
IXXXIV A SUMMARY 
 
 to most dangerous oscillations, and would otherwise, 
 notwithstanding the gravity of its materials, soon 
 swing from its centre, split into factions, and perish 
 by the sword of some new military demagogue. 
 
 Law, and liberty, property, peace, and life itself, 
 must be protected by arms. All other men, as well 
 as kings, find their last reason in arms. The neces 
 sity for arms attaches to society in ail its stages, from 
 savage life, up to the highest refinement. As people 
 multiply as the arts of peace advance as property 
 accumulates, and life refines, arms become a separate 
 profession. The difficulty then is, to socialize the 
 profession to infuse, as it were, through the very 
 marrow of the military body, an habitual disposition 
 for submission to the civil authority, with a conti 
 nual aptitude for war. How to reconcile such dis 
 cordant elements, is a problem of so great difficulty, 
 that only the institutions of this country have ever 
 effectually solved it. In other countries, whenever 
 the army is extended in a degree commensurate 
 with the wants of war and the national defence, it 
 becomes, on return of peace, terrific to the public 
 liberty. The great military leaders and officers of 
 foreign armies, have no civil interest superior, or 
 equivalent, to that of their military profession.- 
 They are soldiers of fortune, whose souls are absorbed 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 1XXXV 
 
 by war ; and they cat and carve for themselves. 
 Their pay, their plunder, and their glory, are the 
 sole motives and object of their lives, never ending, 
 the soldier of other nations cannot bear to subside 
 into the citizen ; and the citizen must endure the 
 soldier. In other countries, the character of both 
 cannot be said to blend. The general policy of other 
 countries seems to say, that the military body should 
 be as distinct in interest as in profession, from the 
 other orders of society. That there should be 
 pride on one side, and abasement on the other. 
 The institutions of this empire (as if heaven- 
 descended, certainly built up by a heaven-descended 
 wisdom) order matters better ; and the soldier and 
 the citizen, from the highest ranks of life to the 
 lowest, commingle in social interest, feeling, and 
 fellowship. The paramount aim of both, equally, 
 is to support and improve the laws, and to assert 
 their sanctity and independence against all foreign 
 force, or domestic factions. The soldier's submission 
 to the laws, in this empire, is as ready and as 
 tame as that of any other man. The chivalrous 
 spirit of a proud and dignified obedience, can, 
 with no propriety, be said to be extinguished, or 
 even to languish. It is woven into the soldier's ha 
 bits deeply appreciated by his reason, and suspends 
 his arm before the majesty of the laws. 
 
IXXXVl A SUMMARY 
 
 Mr. Gordon was decidedly of opinion, that this 
 empire is encompassed by a political necessity, to 
 keep a watchful guard against the too great prepon 
 derance of any foreign nation as Spain, Germany, 
 Russia, France,, &c. He knew that the nature of all 
 power is accumulative, and requires to be watched 
 by the measures of vigilance and circumspection. 
 That a Semiranais of the North may be as dangerous 
 to national independence and commercial freedom, 
 as a Philip the Second in the South : that the spirit 
 of lawless ambition is the same, whether in a Char 
 lemagne, or a Charles the Fifth a Lewis the Four 
 teenth, or a Buonaparte. 
 
 He entirely concurred in opinion with those poli 
 ticians who build the throne on an hereditary foun 
 dation, and raise it above all competition in splendour 
 at home, and above all chance of temptation from 
 abroad : but his understanding widely differed from 
 those, who wish to see the throne surrounded by a 
 set of beggarly officers, with stunted and curtailed 
 salaries, scarcely equal to the profits of a thriving 
 shop-keeper. He thought such provisions not only 
 incongruous and inconsistent in their nature, but 
 dangerous in their consequences; inasmuch as the 
 steadier and more independ' nt those props by which 
 the crown is surrounded may be, the stronger the 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxxvii 
 
 ties by which they are held to the civil constitution, 
 the less danger there is of their giving way to the 
 pressure of so great a power. He well knew, that 
 those thrones whose princes are served by slaves, or by 
 officers approaching in their salaries to an estate of sla 
 very or meanness, are eventually neither cheaper nor 
 more beneficial than the splendid monarchy, which 
 only freedom knows how to erect, or can support. 
 He had therefore no envy against the large salaries 
 and pre-eminent respectability of public men. He 
 thought, that as society advanced in wealth and 
 splendour, the provision for the public service and 
 its functionaries, should advance, part passu. That 
 thus only can a government become an emanation 
 from, and be a just representative of society, by 
 embodying in the public service a sufficient pro 
 portion of all that is great, and illustrious in the 
 country. He could not be persuaded that mean 
 salaries are the best securities for the fidelity of 
 public functionaries; and he knew that those sala 
 ries, even more certainly than the incomes of pri- 
 vace men, being expended at home, quickly re 
 turn into the bosom of society, and give a new 
 impetus to arts and industry. He did not, how 
 ever, conclude that the abuses and malversations 
 of office, should be tolerated. In his opinion, those 
 public concerns call for the public attention, and due 
 
A SUMMAKY 
 
 scrutiny ; anc| that in this empire they are not now 
 neglected. He only contended, that public officers 
 should be at least placed on a level with the cor 
 responding ranks of society* 
 
 Mr. Gordon's opinion, lite Mr. Hurme's respecting 
 a public, national debt, does not appear to have been 
 formed with his usual caution and circumspect in 
 vestigation. He did not sufficiently distinguish be 
 tween such a debt, as affecting a despotical govern 
 ment ; and, as affecting a government constituted, as 
 is that of this empire, ia which all the various, im 
 portant interests of society have a practical ad valorem 
 representation. Although in a despotical state, a small 
 public debt, tends to stablish the sovereign, till the 
 means to satisfy the stipulated interest foil ; yet 
 when accumulated beyond this point, it then imme 
 diately becomes the fatal signal for discontent, revolt 
 and revolution Witness France. On such occasions, 
 under such governments, unsocial and despotical, 
 each order of society stands on its own unconnected, 
 isolated foundation, and asserts its own peculiar and 
 selfish privileges, like an ally in a confederacy, rather 
 than as a component part of one homogenial body. 
 But in a government, such as that of this empire, 
 emanating from and having a practically inherent 
 connection, and identity of interest with all the im- 
 
ACCOUNT, <c. Ixxxix 
 
 portant interests of society, there is no such danger. 
 Such a government has a safety-valve adapted to the 
 vast power of the machine. As the principal of the 
 national debt rises as the elastic gas ascends, the 
 valve gives way the interest sinks. In this scheme, 
 matters arrange themselves by a self-motion, native 
 and inherent, on the principle of family-concord, and 
 mutual advantage. When capital can be more pro 
 fitably employed in trade and business, the tax of 
 the national debt is the more easily borne. When 
 capital can be less profitably employed in business, 
 men become desirous to invest it in the public 
 funds, and this competition sinks the rate of interest 
 to the public means of paying it. In despotic go 
 vernments, a debt is that of the state only, and 
 wears all the harsh features of a private contract. 
 It is a bond in the hands of a Shylock, possessing 
 no softening, mitigable quality. But in a country, 
 whose government is constituted as ours is, it has 
 an entirely different character. Although it cannot 
 be said to be the cause of the nation's prosperity, 
 it is an evidence and an index of national improve 
 ment it is an evidence and an index of the great 
 commercial wealth of the country. Loans cannot 
 be raised at home till wealth has accumulated. 
 When it becomes so greatly accumulated as it has 
 in this empire, it is fortunate that it can be fixed 
 
 m 
 
3tC A SUMMABY 
 
 and nationalized in the public funds. It is thus 
 prevented from taking wing to foreign shores, and 
 fructifying, perhaps, hostile countries. It thus 
 becomes an additional anchor to ensure the public 
 domestic tranquillity a fulcrum on which to support 
 the national power in a manner most effect ual, 
 against all hostile attacks. It thus imparts a princely 
 spirit to the mercantile interest, and renders mer 
 chants, by blending them in the magistracy and 
 government of their country, in the words of scrip 
 ture, " great men of the earth." Nor does the bles 
 sing end here it spreads through, and has a genial 
 influence over the conduct and affairs of private 
 life. When men see that prosperity in trade may 
 lift them and their families to contact with ancient 
 greatness and modern renown, and give them a 
 participation in the government of their country, 
 their feelings become liberalized by their hopes ; and 
 we all know the strength and force of hope. A 
 public debt, as it exists in this empire, is therefore 
 a commercial, political, and moral blessing. Britain, 
 the most improved and prosperous nation under the 
 sun, has the greatest national debt. It is, perhaps, 
 greater in its amount, than the aggregate of all the 
 public debts of all the countries of the world. But 
 are the citizens of any other country, ceteris part- 
 fcus, more at their ease ? Is industry better rewarded 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. 
 
 in other countries supporting an equal population ? 
 Have men generally more chances, or greater proba 
 bility of becoming independent by an honourable 
 exertion of their talents in professions, or in trades ? 
 Are the labouring classes of society better fed, clothed, 
 and housed, in other countries? If not, can the na 
 tional debt be said to press against the national pros 
 perity ? Has it not advanced with the growth of 
 society itself, by mutual and voluntary agreement, 
 and gradual stages? Has it not, and does it not, sup 
 port and propel every national interest and glory ? 
 Has it not been formed from the successive accumu 
 lations of provident and fortunate individuals, in all 
 the arts, trades, and professions, which maintain and 
 polish society? Can it in reason, in justice, or in 
 equity, be held less sacred and secure, than any other 
 property ? Are the social and voluntary pacts of 
 society to be held less indefeasible, than those which, 
 often commencing in violence and blood, were sub 
 sequently, with the greatest propriety and utility 
 public and private, ratified by law, as a constituent 
 component principle of society itself. Surely then 
 the national debt has as strong a claim of indefea 
 sible right and elemental consideration. It is, how 
 ever, not uncommon to hear it confounded with the 
 causes which produced it. To hear arguments aimed 
 to unsettle the foundations on which it rests^ by 
 
 m2 
 
XC11 A SUMMARY 
 
 mixing it up with the politics of the years that 
 are past. This is an unjust mode of reasoning. 
 The national debt ably and well supported the na 
 tional interests. It completely soldered all the 
 breaches made by past blunders, inexperience and folly, 
 and carried the national interests and glory, through 
 bad and good fortune, through all the chances of bat 
 tle and the conflicts of party, to the most triumphant 
 issue. It protected the public from all dangerous 
 blows foreign or domestic: and whenever it may be 
 accompanied with a system of national education, suf 
 ficiently extensive to embrace, to train, and modify the 
 great mass of the national intellect, and to give it a 
 uniform direction, the national interests and glory, 
 will be then so thoroughly rooted, as to endure 
 through a long series of ages and generations. 
 
 Without the existence of a national debt, it is evi 
 dent, that the honour and interests of this empire, 
 could not have been so effectually sustained by taxes 
 raised to provide, within each year, for its own ex 
 penses. But by the instrumentality of the national 
 debt, the prosperity of merchants becomes the same as 
 the public prosperity. Both interests are thus identi 
 fied. Property, which has a natural tendency, to fix 
 itself capriciously, in large masses of accumulation, 
 in the coffers of fortunate individuals is thus re-distri- 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. xciii 
 
 bated, and, in form of the public expenditure, gives an 
 impetus to arts and industry ; and renders the public 
 burdens more gradual, less sensible and less oppressive, 
 Let the amount of this debt be whatever it may, the 
 fair question is, whether the national means are more 
 depressed by it, than they must necessarily have been 
 by providing for the national exigencies without it. 
 If it be clear, that to have provided for the national 
 expenses, by annual taxes, to the amount of those ex 
 penses, as the public service called for them, would 
 have repressed and paralyzed the national powers of 
 industry and reproduction, much more than to pay a 
 gradual interest for the sum of those expenses, it is 
 evident, that the national debt, on the whole amount, 
 is beneficial, as at least a cure for a greater evil. Now 
 at five per centum, twenty millions can be raised for 
 one million of taxes. The prompt expenditure of 
 twenty millions enables a country to obtain advan 
 tages, which it could not obtain by the slow process of 
 raising forty, or even perhaps sixty millions in a se* 
 riesoffour or six years. The national debt has thus 
 then put this empire in a proud attitude, to which it 
 could not otherwise have attained. Its honour thus 
 asserted supports its interests, and its interests thus 
 supported, makes the condition of every individual 
 subject, ceterispuribus,m.uch less difficult to be borne, 
 Yet it is boldly asserted, that the national debt of this 
 
A SUMMARY 
 
 empire presses against manufacturing arts and in 
 dustry, and enhances their price beyond what they 
 would otherwise be, in all foreign markets. If it 
 were as easy to prove a proposition, arid satisfy the 
 mind, as it is to make an assertion, the logic of all 
 men would be pretty much on a level. Nature, 
 which gives different advantages to different men, 
 deals in the same manner by nations ; and doubtlessly 
 several manufactures are better adapted to the genius 
 and climate of other countries than to our own. The 
 existence and intervention of the debt have main 
 tained and kept alive many a manufacture among 
 us, which would have been in ruin without it or 
 rather the whole fabric of our national manufactures, 
 would have participated in the ruin, which the ex 
 istence and intervention of the debt, have saved the 
 public fortunes from. Let us not therefore envy the 
 blessings of Providence and the developement of their 
 industry to other nations. Their prosperity will 
 make them better, because richer and abler customers 
 for those articles, with which we can best supply their 
 wants. This is the true principle of trade, a barter 
 of equivalents real or imaginary. This principle, 
 whether founded on reason, or on instinct ; on a well 
 judging taste, or a wild caprice, gives birth to the 
 industry of nations ; and propels men to the produc 
 tion of articles, which never would be formed at 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. XCV 
 
 home, were it not, to command articles from abroad, 
 which too, would never have had existence, had no 
 such reciprocity existed. In the commercial world s 
 the wealth and prosperity of every individual country, 
 contribute to the wealth and prosperity of all others. 
 Thus, to compare extremes, the poor Indian, who 
 traverses the vast north western wilderness, becomes 
 gradually civilized, by the altogether fantastic and 
 superfluous wants of the beaus and belles of the polite 
 world. The market, which is thus opened to him, 
 for the produce of the chace, gradually teaches him 
 new wants, and supplies them* more conformably to 
 his growing tastes, than he had ever been accustomed 
 to. Thus the vanity of one part of our species 
 awakens the dormant powers and excites the industry 
 of the rest. Thus the national debt of this empire, 
 places it, in such a high, strong, and commanding 
 position, that the entire faculties of her people may 
 be developed to the greatest advantage. The whole 
 commercial world is thus involved in the continuance 
 of her prosperity. She is thus rendered the centre, 
 towards which the commercial interests of the world 
 gravitate, and round which they move. Her prospe 
 rity is thus founded, not in the loose and shifting 
 sands of man's opinion merely, but in the adhe 
 sive soil of his interests also. If man had not a 
 stronger tendency to pursue bis interest, than to 
 
XCV1 A SUMMARY 
 
 embrace the fleeting meteors of opinion. If this 
 instinct does not impart circumspection to his rea 
 soning, and caution to his conclusions, the debt of 
 this empire would be subjected to shocks and varia 
 tions, much more rude and violent, than it is. If 
 the payers of taxes, were not, in a great degree the 
 payees also, their discontent would manifest itself, in 
 a manner much more formidable, than the clamour 
 of a populace. But the interest of those, who give the 
 tone to public opinion, governs the stops, and ven 
 tages, which produce the national concord, and the 
 greatest practicable, public prosperity. It is thus, that 
 the national debt gives, in this empire, steadiness to 
 the Euripus of commerce, the fleetingness of opinion, 
 and the fngaciousness of capital. As it encreases 
 man's wants, as it multiplies his desires it teaches to 
 provide for their gratification in the greatest abun 
 dance, and at the cheapest relative rate. If it en 
 hances the price of articles contributing to the ease 
 and comfort of human life, it enhances in a still 
 greater degree, the general price of the labour neces 
 sary to the manufacture and production of those arti 
 cles ; so that, fairly speaking, the comforts and conve 
 nience of the labouring classes are encreased by it. 
 
 Finally, experience shews that the national debt, 
 (that is to say any fixed amount of debt) has a na- 
 
ACCOUNT, &c. xcvii 
 
 tu raj tendency to decrease in weight de die in diem 
 in an adequate proportion to the accumulation of ca 
 pital, to the extension and perfection of the arts of 
 civilized life, and to the ratio of mercantile profits, al 
 ways, in all its phases, adjusting itself, to the public 
 convenience, and ministering as by a vernal process, to 
 social advancement and national prosperity. That it 
 liberalizes public and private liberty, and teaches it to 
 look defiance only against the enemies of British in 
 stitutions. But this defiance, how great soever, is 
 simply defensive, and aims no blow at the prosperity 
 and trenches not on the happiness of others. It is 
 merely a vivid indication of a determination to pro 
 tect their own. Honor es mutant mores -is an axiom 
 as true of nations, as of individuals; and doubtlessly 
 wealth and strength and power, success and victory, 
 impart a tone, a carriage and a demeanour widely 
 different from the struggles of poverty, weakness and 
 defeat. Buonaparte, the day after the battle of Wa 
 terloo, presented a very different face, from that with 
 which he scowled on the nations of Europe after the 
 battle of Austerlitz. 
 
 Some projectors gravely propose to pay off, (or an 
 nihilate rather) the national debt, by a great national 
 effort by a level on the property of the individuals, 
 who compose these nations. It is not however, an 
 
 n 
 
XCVifi A SUMMARY 
 
 altogether evident, axiomatical truth how the indi 
 viduals or the nation can be thus relieved. On this 
 project so much property should be brought to mar 
 ket, that it is pretty plain prices would sink in a de 
 gree so frightful and fatal, as to mock the calculation 
 of the projector. Neither, if the project were practi 
 cable are its advantages more evident. How individu 
 als can be bettered in their fortunes and condition by 
 subtracting from the principal, rather than by an 
 efficiently slighter reduction of their income, in the 
 form of taxes, (which paid by one hand of society are 
 received by the other and to which all prices and in 
 comes are adjusted) is indeed so problematical, as to 
 be, to common understandings of very difficult solu 
 tion. This calculus seems to savour more of the arith 
 metic of a school-boy, than of a statesman. It does 
 not consider, that the public stock of wealth, or the 
 national powers of reproduction cannot be thus en- 
 creased; and that such a scheme can never be realized 
 without the violence and mischief, public and private, 
 of a tumurluary, revolutionary transfer. That it has 
 therefore a manifest tendency to entail upon these 
 countries much of that evil under which France still 
 labours ; and is now only recovering from ; 
 
 '? It is but a part it sees and not the whole/' 
 
 It concludes the debt to be an evil yea, a curse, and 
 then in just raciocination (wrong only in principle, 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. xcix 
 
 sandy only in foundation) it infers, that to rid the na 
 tion of it, by any means soever is a blessing. 
 
 To pay off the debt, or to annihilate it, if practica 
 ble, would not add to the stock of national, or indi 
 vidual wealth. It would not encrease agricultural, 
 
 o r 
 
 manufacturing, or mercantile products. It would 
 not open new markets at home, or abroad beneficial 
 to the empire. Instead of spreading arts, and indus 
 try, it would evidently repress, or banish the springs 
 of arts and industry, and reproductive power from 
 these countries. At present therein no deficiency of 
 capital felt for the purposes of trade. The evil is in 
 the want of means and channels in which to em 
 ploy capital. If capital cannot be employed, or 
 if income cannot be derived from it at home, 
 it will infallibly seek employment and income in 
 foreign lands. Abandoning, therefore, this nostrum, 
 which is too full of promise, and of too rapid 
 and violent operation, to be sanative, or safe, let 
 an amelioration of the public fortunes be sought 
 where they have always been infallibly found in an 
 adherence to the ordinary modes which Divine Pro 
 vidence has ordained to found and advance all human 
 prosperity in a greater and more unshackled free 
 dom of trade; or by equitable, that is to say, mutu 
 ally advantageous, commercial treaties with foreign 
 
 n 2 
 
C A SUMMARY 
 
 nations, (if commercial treaties should be deemed 
 useful, which is questionable,) by rendering the laws, 
 where practicable, more equal, just, and impartial 
 by systematized, foreign colonization, which may in 
 distant time be as out-posts, and points d'appui for 
 the body of the empire-off-sets ; from which, in future 
 ages, the well-regulated spirit of British freedom, 
 may be diffused through all climates of the world. 
 Buch seem to be the chief practicable means of 
 encreasing the national wealth and industry of 
 adding to its prosperity and happiness: except, in 
 deed, we should be inclined to adopt the plan of 
 Dean Swift, which is still more sagacious than that 
 of our more modern projector viz. to kill one part 
 of the population with which to feed the other, and 
 to tan their hides to make summer-boots for the 
 dandies and exquisites of our time- If a shower of 
 gold could be poured upon the land, as if by volcanic 
 eruption, sufficient to pay off the national debt in 
 an hour, it would not be a jot more beneficial to the 
 nation, than the above laudable project of the w r itty 
 and patriotic Dean. The money, to be useful, should 
 be used ; and as the capital already on hands cannot 
 find channels of employment, the proprietors of this 
 portentous shower of gold, should starve at home, or 
 carry the metal to other countries to make profit of 
 it. The ultimate conclusion would then appear to 
 
ACCOUNT, &C. Cl 
 
 be, that national prosperity is of a regular growth, 
 and cannot be forced by a jerk of authority, although, 
 like the oak of the forest, which continues to spread 
 indefinitely through ages, it may be hewn down in 
 a moment. 
 
 This sketch now draws to a conclusion. The nar 
 rator will, by some, be thought too ardent and enthu 
 siastic in favour of the memory of his friend. Let the 
 reader, however, be assured, that his ardour, or his 
 enthusiasm has never carried him beyond the bounds 
 of strict truth. His zeal may, indeed, be somewhat 
 warmed by his affection, and roused by the unmanly 
 obloquy dealt by low minds against the memory of 
 his friend, to the prejudice of his children. But this 
 puny spite, this froth of faction, foams in vain. The 
 solid adamant of Mr. Gordon's character, his unspotted 
 life, the inflexible integrity of his nature, the pure 
 bullion of his understanding^ his solid unassuming 
 learning, bid a firm defiance to all hostility. While 
 he lived, his masculine virtue proud in its conscious 
 ness rushed to repel by open retort, those arrows which 
 a cowardly malignity aimed at him, from secret am 
 bush. He scorned all such weapons: his character 
 scorns them still ; and he often* from extreme sincerity, 
 laid himself open to wily arts, which he could never 
 practice. Never meditating fraud or wrong to any 
 
cii A SUMMARY 
 
 man, he was above all fear, and transcending the stoic, 
 he settled in the Christian philosopher. He aimed at 
 serving the interests, shaming the vices, and promoting 
 the social concord of his countrymen and fellow-citi 
 zens ; but he never stooped to flatter them, or to join in 
 any of their factions ; and never courted popularity in 
 any shape or form but please God, his children may 
 see popularity accompany his memory that popula 
 rity, which if on earth, he would value popularity 
 with the good and wise. During his life, he engaged 
 the respect and attention of some of the most exalted 
 and venerable characters to whom he was known. 
 Since his death, it appears in what estimation his me 
 mory is held by him, who must for every reason be 
 allowed to be the best and only appropriate judge of 
 it. By the Right Rev. and Hon. Percy Jocely n, D. D. 
 Lord Bishop of Leighlin and Ferns, who, having had 
 the best opportunities of knowledge, as his diocesan 
 for many years, stamps with authoritative sanction, 
 the true value on his character. His Lordship, with 
 the grace and reanimating manner by which a man of 
 his birth and station, so well knows how to confer an 
 obligation, in promoting Mr. Gordon's only son, the 
 Rev. Richard Bentley Gordon, to a benefice, declares, 
 " that he wishes to shew his respect for the memory of 
 his father, as an author, and a gentleman of high con 
 sideration in his diocese." That the son will feel and 
 
ACCOUNT, <fcc. ciii 
 
 manifest the like manly gratitude of his father on 
 a similar occasion, there is good reason to hope. He 
 has already given proof, and promise of a steady 
 determination in maintaining the rights of the 
 Church, and promoting its interests, by a perseve- 
 verance, not to be shaken by difficulties. But 
 this judgment of the Bishop of Ferns, this gene 
 rous tribute to the memory of a scholar of inde 
 pendent mind, whose praise could never be gained 
 but by goodness, and who never accepted a favour 
 but where he thought goodness resided, reaches 
 far beyond its immediate object. It evinces, in a 
 manner impressive and conclusive, that the spirit of 
 a scholar and a gentleman, should enter into and 
 actuate the clerical character. Indeed, what other 
 security can human institutions devise, to guard an 
 established clergy against the degrading solicitations 
 of sensual appetites on the one hand, and the yet 
 more pernicious illapses of spiritual pride and ig 
 norance on the other ? But while the honours and 
 rewards of religion and letters are held connected, 
 as the Bishop of Ferns connects them, the establish 
 ment will be its own support against all the efforts 
 of secret foes, or open enemies. It may naturally 
 be expected, (it is indeed a prediction of the Author 
 of our holy religion) from the number of willing 
 dupes spread through society, that cunning hypo- 
 
ciV A SUMMARY 
 
 crites should be found to descend oil a -'prey so 
 easy. The disease, however, is not radical or mor 
 tal it is merely symptomatic of weak intellect, in 
 the first stages of enquiry. It will work its own 
 cure by its progress ; or it can be arrested in its 
 advances by the simple and salutary process of 
 extending the establishment, with provisions and 
 regulations adapted to the altered character of so 
 ciety. At all events, while a spirit, such as the 
 Bishop of Ferns fosters and acts on, shall predomi 
 nate in ecclesiastical concerns, the agents of mischief, 
 whether from malign intention, or sincere stupidity, 
 can never again become formidable in these nations. 
 The world has been awaked ; and religion, which 
 was given to man, to brighten life, and to cheer 
 society, is not now, as heretofore, regarded as a cold 
 dogma of the brain, or as a series of words repeated 
 by the lips, without influence on the moral habits of 
 life ; but as a full and salient fountain, from which 
 all good conduct flows, indicating the purity of the 
 source by the streams that issue from it. But as the 
 Biihop of Ferns so impressively inculcates, it belongs 
 to learning to keep the fountain clear. No other 
 earthly power is of sufficient force to dissipate the 
 deadly vapours of fanaticism, and the intoxicating 
 fumes of enthusiasm, which have so strong a physical 
 tendency to mix with and pollute its waters. 
 
*t 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE Volume which is here presented to the 
 Public, forms about a Twelfth part of the Memoirs 
 Geographical and Historical of the entire Globe : of 
 which, four parts or volumes, were published, up to 
 1798 ; the remainder is left in manuscript, almost 
 completed, by the author. The Editor has not se 
 lected this part for publication, on the ground of its 
 being superior, or more complete in execution, than 
 any of the remaining manuscripts: in fact, it is the 
 only part of the work which is not completely finish- 
 fed. It has been selected, because it appears sufficiently 
 competent, and large enough for a volume; which is 
 as much as can, at this time, be presented to public 
 consideration. From the Royal protection and sup 
 port, which has been so most graciously bestowed 
 upon this volume, it is hoped that the time is not far 
 distant, when the entire work may appear, in an 
 uniform dress. The Asiatic regions are those on which 
 the author bestowed most pains, and which, from the 
 great natural lines of distinction observable over their 
 
U P&EEACE. 
 
 surface and population the number of large islands 
 and archipelagos, by which the Asiatic continent is 
 encompassed the deep interest which this empire has 
 in their soil and commerce, and the various views 
 which have been taken of them, from the earliest 
 ages, requires the greatest share of attention and 
 pains in research and comparison. Mr. Gordon, it 
 would seem, is therefore justifiable in treating of 
 them so amply as he has done. Of Africa, not much 
 is known, with the exception of Egypt, and the coasts, 
 which are fully described in these manuscripts, as are 
 also all the known parts of the interior, from a tho 
 rough examination and comparison of every authority 
 on the subject. 
 
 Of the continent of South America, the informa 
 tion is vague and scanty : but, as much as can be had 
 in substance any where, will be found in these ma 
 nuscripts. Humboldt and Bompland have cast acute 
 and scientific eyes over many of its regions. Their 
 physical features, and distinguishing characteristics, 
 are described in these manuscripts with a bold accu 
 racy. But what was accurate when they were writ 
 ten, has ceased to be so. Physical and moral convul 
 sions are continually altering the features and cha 
 racter of this quarter of the globe : its political and 
 physical geography will afford new matter for future 
 
PB SPACE. 4H 
 
 writers. It is as yet (July, 1819) not easy, to divine 
 the result of the auspicious ferment glowing through 
 out many of the districts of this great and beautiful 
 division of the globe. It is indeed to be hoped that 
 the expellers of tyranny, if ultimately successful, will 
 never imitate its conduct in their institutions, or re 
 member its existence longer than it may be necessary 
 to assert their own independence. That they will 
 model their political constitution, and shape their 
 public affairs conformably to the analogies of human 
 nature, and to those principles which, from the evi 
 dences of history, are proved best to promote human 
 happiness. That they will never pursue chimerical 
 theories, mere offsprings of the brain, having no 
 foundation in the realities of life, and the pre-existing 
 arrangement of society. That, they will for ever keep 
 in mind, the great lessons which the present age of 
 the European world so forcibly teaches, that the 
 dogmas of philosophy are as obstinate and bloody, 
 though of not so universal adoption, as those of reli 
 gion in its darkest ages. If, indeed, we should not 
 say that the names the sacred names of religion and 
 philosophy, are only masks, which bad men put on 
 to disguise wickedly ambitious aims, unholy and tem 
 poral purposes, and which true religion abhors, and 
 true philosophy strips off. 
 
 o 2 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The last volume of these Memoires may contain- 
 
 Russia, 
 Poland, 
 Hungary, 
 Dalmatia, 
 
 Lower Dalmatian Provinces, 
 Greece, 
 
 Grecian Islands, 
 Grecian Archipelago ; 
 
 Subjects of great curiosity and interest, particularly 
 that of Greece, which will be found to be the produc 
 tion of a liberal and pains-taking scholar* 
 
 For the last few years, the question of a north-west 
 passage through Baffin's bay, to the Pacific ocean has 
 been received and agitated. The Quarterly and Edin 
 burgh Reviews, two rival journals, of the highest 
 rank, sed magno intervallo, in public estimation, 
 divide the suffrages on this occasion Surely however 
 a question of this nature should not be discussed with 
 acrimony,* or sarcasm. Such is not the way to arrive 
 at truth in any question of doubt, or difficulty, much 
 less of one, of scientific and liberal curiosity, in which 
 even still (July 1819) there is some uncertainty and 
 room for doubt. After all that has been said and writ 
 ten on this subject, it may not be unacceptable, or 
 unnecessary to quote the following passage from Mr. 
 Gordon's Terraquea, or memoirs geographical arid 
 historical, vol. 1, page 9, edition 1T90 speaking of 
 
PREFACE. v 
 
 Baffin's bay and the inlets connected with it, he says, 
 " I have here considered this whole great inland sea, 
 "or mediterranean of America, as a gulph ; and 
 " must continue so to consider it, until it be found to 
 " have some other communication with the ocean, 
 " beside, that which it is known to have with the 
 " Atlantic. That it has no channel westward to the 
 " Pacific is evident from Cook's last voyage, and 
 " Hearn's journey to the Coppermine river :^ nor can, 
 " I find any probability of a passage to the northern 
 " ocean, though Captain Cook seems to have believed 
 "it. (Cook's last voyage, book iv. chap. 11,} merely 
 " because he found people of the Esquimaux race in- 
 " habiting the western, as well as the eastern coast 
 " of North America. But this seems not only far 
 " from a proof, but even from a reasonable presump- 
 " tion of such a passage, as it is well known, that 
 " these people carry their light boats across the land 
 " from one arm of the sea to another, and consequently 
 " might have traversed a great share of continent, 
 " from one lake to another, arid from inlet to inlet. 
 " Besides a strong argument lies against the supposi- 
 " tion, as the tides decrease, towards the north in 
 " Baffin's bay, (see Foster's Collection of Northern 
 " discoveries.) So that in all probability Greenland 
 " makes part of the American continent." This con- 
 
 * He would since have added, and M Kenzie's Journey. EBITOR. 
 
Oi PREFACE. 
 
 elusion drawn from the evidence of facts, and the ana 
 logy of nature, may approve his critical accu men, and 
 knowledge of the subjects, who thus, by a period of 
 twenty-nine years, anticipates the result of a research 
 for a supposed north-western passage. His manner 
 too, so like a real philosopher, zealous for the truth, 
 but not puffed up,'^ by his zeal, or knowledge, may 
 be edifying to some of the litigants. It appears, that 
 in this respect, his opinion was different from that 
 entertained by the writers in the Quarterly Review. 
 He, however approved the eloquent ardour of their 
 investigation, and was fully satisfied, from incontro 
 vertible facts of extensive operation, that of late years, 
 such changes had taken place in the polar regions, 
 as to fully justify the undertaking of the late expedi 
 tion. The editor too, would also infer from his know 
 ledge of Mr. Gordon's sentiments on this subject, in 
 several conversations within the last year, (1818) that 
 were he now alive, he would heartily concur in opi 
 nion, concerning the propriety not only of a renewed 
 expedition to those regions, but of many similar ex 
 peditions to various parts of the globe. That not only 
 the surface of the earth and sea should be explored by 
 British enter prize ; sed eundum in viscera terrce. 
 He knew, although the principal object expected from 
 such enterprizes should be disappointed, that many 
 
 * See Edinburgh Review, No. 59, page 5. EDITOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 collateral advantages and acquisitions to human know 
 ledge would arise out of them, so as fully to compen 
 sate all trouble and expense attending them. Men 
 and nations, he would say, often waste their resources 
 in illiberal, and even cruel pursuits. How then should 
 it be counted folly or extravagance of the government 
 of a great empire, resting in profound peace, with 
 thousands of its citizens ardent, able and prepared, 
 strong and accomplished in science and letters, to ex 
 tend its glory, and to maintain its interest in peace, 
 as well as they have in war, to fit out ships for dis 
 covery, and to equip bodies of learned and scientific 
 men. If the works of war be what chiefly should en 
 gage the consideration and attention of the govern 
 ment of a great empire, let it be recollected, that learn 
 ing and science have in all ages, been the best prepa 
 ratives for battle. The British empire stretches the 
 influence of its sceptre over the world ; and the ge 
 nius of it's people, if called into action and properly 
 supported, is well able to maintain its influence in 
 the world. She has mind sufficient in her people to 
 put the world in motion, to give ample employment 
 to the utmost exertions of her industry, if her talents 
 be not suffered to droop and become paralized by in 
 action. In the bosom of peace, let Britons recollect, 
 that the surrounding nations are jealous of her glory, 
 envious of her prosperity, though fond of her influ- 
 
ence _ an influence in its nature necessarily genial and 
 protective. Her influence among the nations is, in 
 deed a moral quality widely different from the harsh 
 prerogative of arms. It behoves her therefore to set 
 an example to the nations, of an animated cultivation 
 of the arts of peace. By a public, liberal support of 
 the experimental sciences, chemistry, metalurgy, naval 
 expeditions, and companies of exploratory travellers. 
 On such a plan of public encouragement to the united 
 efforts and rivalship of scientific bodies bodies, the 
 most learned and scientific in the world -What new 
 Congreves to invent machines fatal machines of war, 
 to prepare new fields of Leipsic What new Davieses 
 to advance the bounds of science, to stretch its foster 
 ing hand, to protect human life ; and in the most 
 hopeless circumstances, to turn even the destructive 
 powers of nature to the aid and comfort of humanity. 
 
 Long may the port of Britons, give the tone to 
 mankind. The tone of British example, and the 
 strong persuasion of their reason, much more power 
 ful than arms, are spreading over those regions, here 
 tofore the cradles of freedom and letters, twin chil 
 dren, (though for many ages sunk in the oblivion of 
 slavery) the reviving spirit of liberty and learning. 
 Wherever Britons tread, they leave the vestiges of 
 improvement, and the plains of Marathon, w r e may 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 now hope, will again become illustrious by the ex 
 ploits of heroes, awaked by the sons of Britain, re 
 echoing in their ears, those lessons, which their an 
 cestors first inculcated to animate, and raise the slum 
 bering mind to its proper height in the scale of being. 
 Let it be the praise, the peculiar praise of Britons 
 however, to have softened the harsh features of Greek 
 and Roman liberty, by all the mild graces of Christi 
 anity. Let the spirit of universal benevolence, which 
 Christianity every where inculcates, supercede in ail 
 her institutions, and in the whole practice, as well as 
 the spirit of her laws, the narrow selfishness, which 
 for ever prevented the spread and lasting establish 
 ment of Grecian freedom ; and which, even in its 
 native seats, too quickly caused its downfall. 
 
 As the author lived in expectation of being able to 
 enrich this volume, with the result of the late Nor 
 thern expedition, he has left his survey of the Northern 
 regions of North America, in form not quite com 
 plete. The editor however, has not presumed to add 
 to, or alter a word in his manuscript ; yet, he trusts, 
 it will be found, that it is incomplete in form only, 
 and not in substance. Indeed the expedition does 
 not appear to have brought any material accession to 
 the knowledge of geographical history. As to the 
 
 P 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 tribe inhabiting the region extending from 76 to 77 
 40' north latitude, and from 60 to 12 west longi 
 tude; (see Ross's Baffin's bay, 7th chap.) and de 
 corated with the picturesque appellation of Arctic 
 Highlanders, they seem to be merely a variety of the 
 Esquimaux race, as yet unaltered by foreign admix 
 ture. 
 
 It is competent for any one to combat the propriety 
 of any, or all of the opinions promulgated in the 
 foregoing sketch and preface. It is not equally so, 
 to combat the reality of the representation, that is 
 made of them. No man knew Mr. Gordon so well 
 and so long, as the editor of this volume ; and he has 
 to the extent of his power, drawn the picture of his 
 mind, the outline of his intellect, with the same fide 
 lity and plainness of execution, that the limner has 
 the miniature-likeness of his face prefixed to this 
 volume. 
 
 
 July 27, 18)9. 
 
THE FOLLOWING IS A LIST OF MR. GORDON S 
 UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPTS. 
 
 SOUTH AMERICA. 
 
 PAGES. 
 
 Terra Firma, 29 
 
 Peru, 30 
 
 Chili, 30 
 
 Guiana, , 28 
 
 Patagonia, 8 
 
 Archipelago of Chenos, 4 
 
 ASIA. 
 
 Anatolia, 96 
 
 Anatolian Islands, 14 
 
 Caucasia, 32 
 
 Syria,....: 70 
 
 Assyria, 30 
 
 Armenia, IB 
 
 Arabia, 120 
 
 Persia, ... 120 
 
 Hindostan, 209 
 
 Transgangene India, 112 
 
 Tibbet, 41 
 
 Tartary, 113 
 
 Cocea, 4 
 
 China, 206 
 
 Japan, 102 
 
 Ctylon, .... 16 
 
 Sumatra, 138 
 
 Java, and smaller Islands, 29 
 
 Borneo, Calebes, Molucca f 24 
 
 West Sumatran Islands, 14 
 
 Sooloos and Manilla, 22 
 
 Lackdives, Maldives, Coco, An 
 daman and Nicobars, 29 
 
 Mascarinas f .,,,,.,,....,..,. 9 
 
 P.4G15* 
 
 Australasia, 13 
 
 Tasmanian Islands, 16 
 
 Polynesia, 42 
 
 2d part, 13 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 Egypt, 80 
 
 Barbary 61 
 
 Sahara, 18 
 
 Nigritia 70 
 
 Guinea, . 19 
 
 Congo, 13 
 
 Abysinia, 18 
 
 A'ubia, 7 
 
 Caffraria, 48 
 
 Azores, 6 
 
 Madeiras, 4 
 
 Canaries, 11 
 
 Cape Verd, 6 
 
 Moles, 1 
 
 Guinea Islands, 4 
 
 Samotheo, Assumption, St. He 
 lena, Tristem, D'Alcunha, $$c. 13 
 
 EUROPE. 
 
 Russia, ..*.i 90 
 
 Poland, 26 
 
 Hungary, 36 
 
 Dalmatia, 26 
 
 Lower Danubian provinces, ... 6 
 
 Greece, 84 
 
 Grecian Islands, 16 
 
 Grecian Archipelago, ........ 16 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 MEXICO. 
 
 Coast Contour Mountains Lakes Rivers 
 Seasons History Spanish Conquest Vegetables Ani 
 mals Fossils Antiquities Commerce Government 
 Religion Towns Extent Division Population Inha 
 bitants Aboriginals English Settlement. 
 
 MEXICO, CHAPTER 
 
 I 
 
 OR NEW SPAIN, taken in a strictly geographical conception, 
 without regard to those political divisions, which have un 
 dergone, and doubtless will undergo, a variety of alterations, 
 constitutes that extensive isthmus by which the two immense 
 peninsulas of Northern and Southern America are connected. 
 Thus, comprehending the small isthmus of Darien, it ex 
 tends, on the south, to the region of Terra Firma, or New 
 Granada. For its Northern limit we must conceive a line 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Coast. 
 
 drawn from the north-western angle of the Gulph of Mexico 
 to the southern part of the Vermilion sea. 
 
 Washed on one side by the waves of the Atlantic, on the 
 other by those of the Pacific ocean, throughout the entire 
 length of its territory, Mexico possesses a prodigious extent 
 of maritime coast, but is furnished with very few harbours, 
 and seldom enjoys a safe navigation even to these. An im 
 mense body of water, incessantly propelled,by the trade winds 
 from the east, into the Gulf of Mexico, drives great quantities 
 of sand to the Mexican coast, which thus receives, insensibly, 
 perpetual accretions, while these alluvians bar its rivers, and 
 fill those inlets which might otherwise constitute receptacles 
 for shipping. Hence, within the vast Mexican Gulf, the 
 coast affords no harbours, unless unsafe anchoring grounds 
 may improperly be so denominated, from the river Bravo 
 in the north, to the Alvarado in the South. Beyond this, 
 farther southward, the eastern coast presents to the mariner 
 the ports of Truxillo in the peninsula of Yucatan, and of 
 Portobello in the isthmus of Darien ; but the navigation 
 near these shores is mostly dangerous from a stormy at 
 mosphere^ The western coast is furnished with a few har 
 bours, as. San hi as, Acapulco, and Rialexo. The second is 
 a bason, one of the finest in the world, seemingly formed 
 by the explosion of an earthquake. But along this coast 
 also, though the ocean is generally deep to the very edge 
 of the shore, navigation is rendered unsafe by tempestuous 
 weather, through the greater part of the year, especially in 
 the months of July and August, when terrible hurricanes 
 blow from the south-west. 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 The contour of this country is altogether uncommon, 
 perhaps even singular. The immense Cordillera, or chain 
 of the Andes, which traverses longitudinally all South 
 America, continues its course, with in general a north 
 westerly direction, but with a comparatively very small 
 elevation, through the territories of Darien, Veragua, Ni 
 caragua, and Guatimala, into the main region, or broadest 
 part of the vast Mexican isthmus. In the last named pro 
 vince the Cordillera begins to ascend toward its former atti 
 tude ; but, in its further progress, instead of displaying 
 the appearance of a mountainous ridge, it expands into a 
 plain, or concatenation of plains, immensely long and 
 wide, of what is called table-land, of prodigious elevation, 
 which extends far beyond the limits of the Mexican isthmus, 
 into North America. Here, instead of a chain of sum 
 mits, which in South America forms the crest of the Andes, 
 the very ridge itself of the Cordillera constitutes the widely 
 spread and lofty plain, on which the mountains of the 
 country are so situated, whether in groups, or arranged in 
 lines, as to bear no relation whatsoever to the direction of 
 the main ridge, which stretches north-westward with the 
 appearance of a vast level. The spine of this region, 
 which, from the level aspect of the surface, is impercep 
 tible to the eye, can only be traced by its forming a sepa 
 ration between the waters which flow with opposite courses 
 toward the two oceans. 
 
 Besides the vast central plain, along which runs the spine 
 of the Mexican isthmus, two lateral plains, in the northern 
 parts, one on the eastern side, the other on the western,, 
 
 A 2 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Contour, 
 
I MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER stretch far toward the north, formed in like manner as the 
 ' central, by the spreading of two lateral ridges, which 
 
 branch from the main Cordillera about the northern latitude 
 of twenty-one degrees. The numerous and extensive 
 plains of this extraordinary region, which form such a 
 concatenation as to seem only one immense level, except 
 that they are often separated by chains of hills, are yet 
 very different in altitude above the surface of the ocean. 
 The elevation of the great central flats is from about five 
 thousand six hundred to eight thousand eight hundred 
 feet and upwards, equal to that of many of the great 
 Italian Alps. The platform of the land maintains this 
 height very far toward the north or north west, with such 
 gentle acclivities, where actual uneveness occurs, that 
 carriages may roll, with a perfect ease, in that di^ 
 rection, to the distance of fifteen hundred miles from the 
 city of Mexico, consequently a great way into North 
 America. From the central plain to the two oceans the 
 ground declines, but not in the same manner to both. In 
 travelling from the central plain to the Atlantic, the land 
 is found to preserve, through an extensive space, its great 
 elevation ; but when a descent commences, it continues 
 to be rapid through the whole way to the shore. The 
 road to the pacific ascends and descends alternately 
 many times, before its termination in the sands of the 
 coast. The great platform of the Mexican isthmus seems 
 generally to consist of a concatenation of vast plains or 
 Yallies, environed by hills, and resembling the beds of 
 desicated lakes. One of these is the famous and beautiful 
 valley of Teuochtitlau, elevated above seven thousand fouc 
 
MEXICO, 
 
 hundred feet above the ocean's level, in form a long oval, 
 sixty miles in diameter, environed by a wall of porphyritic 
 and basaltic mountains., and containing the celebrated me 
 tropolis of Mexico. Yucatan is a low peninsula, flat, 
 except a chain of low hills, which divides it, running in 
 a south-westerly direction. 
 
 The chain of the Andes,, in its course through Darieii 
 and other provinces to Guatirnala,, is of a comparatively 
 small,, but as yet unmeasured elevation,, abounding in vol 
 canoes in an extraordinary manner, especially from the 
 eleventh, or at least the thirteenth degree of latitude 
 northward. In Guatirnala, where it reascends to consider 
 able altitude, its crest, jagged with volcanic cones, runs 
 along the western coast, but afterwards advances through 
 the central parts of the country, and at length approaches 
 the Gulph of Mexico, when the Cordillera, expanding into 
 plains of table-land, ceases to exhibit any crest at all. On 
 the immense platform of elevated land in the north, the 
 mountains are so scattered or grouped, as not to form any 
 chain, nor to bear any reference to the Cordillera. Of 
 these numerous mountains the most elevated group, some 
 of whose summits ascend into the region of perpetual 
 snow, stands on the south-eastern side of the valley of 
 Tenochtitlan, which it contributes, on that quarter, to in 
 close. The altitudes of four of the highest summits of 
 this group, above the ocean's level, have been measured. 
 That of Popocatepetl is found to be seventeen thousand 
 seven hundred and sixteen feet ; that of Orizaba, seven 
 teen thousand three hundred and seventy-one ; and that of 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Mountains, 
 
6 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER Iztaeeihuatl, fifteen thousand seven hundred. These 
 
 mountains are volcanic,, arid two of them, Popocatepetl 
 
 and Orizaba, are actually long flaming in the present age. 
 Beside these, three other mountains were burning, in the 
 northern parts of the Mexican isthmus, in the eighteenth and 
 the beginning of the nineteenth century ; Tuxtla in the 
 province of Veracruz, Jorullo in that of Valladolid, and 
 Colima in that of Guadalaxara. The Mexican volcanoes 
 are ranged in a line from east to west. The numerous 
 chains of hills, by which the extensive plains of the Table 
 land are commonly bounded or environed, hardly rise to the 
 height of six hundred feet, or at most eight hundred, above 
 the adjoining flats.* 
 
 Lakes. Those plains which are thus inclosed by chains of hills 
 
 appear as if they had been in times far remote, vast lakes 
 or basons of water, which has been exhausted, in a long 
 series of ages, by evaporation, percolation through the po 
 rous earth at the bottom of the inclosing mounds, or drains 
 through openings formed by the pressure of the fluid, by 
 earthquakes, or by some other operations of nature. The 
 water has not, however, been every where exhausted. 
 Mexico still abounds in lakes, which appear to be in a state 
 of gradual decrease, and to be the remains of ancient ba 
 sons prodigiously greater. To specify more than a few of 
 these, which are generally of a similar kind, is unnecessary. 
 The lake of Chapala, in the province of Guadalaxara, 
 
 * For the contour and mountains see Humbold's Essay on New Spain, 
 Svo. London, 1811. The information may be collected from various parts, 
 particularly, vol. 1, p. 2479. 
 
MEXICO. 7 
 
 seems to be about sixty miles in length, and is accounted CHAPTER 
 
 to occupy twice as great an area as that of the lake of 
 
 Constance on the borders of Switzerland. The lake of 
 Pasquaro, in the province of Valladolid, is of much infe 
 rior, though considerable size, but is remarkable for its 
 extremely picturesque appearance. Much inferior to many 
 others in Area, but the most famous in history, are the 
 lakes of the valley of Tenochtitlan, in the immediate vicinity 
 of the Mexican metropolis. Of these, at present five in 
 number, that which is much the greatest, named Tescuco, 
 expanding to an area of about eighty square miles, is filled 
 with salt water. They collectively occupy little more than 
 the tenth of the valley, but were far more extensive when first 
 seen by Europeans in the sixteenth century. Their decrease, 
 beside natural causes, is partly ascribed to an artificial 
 drain, a tunnel made through the bottom of the mountains 
 on the eastern side, a work, which, from mismanagement, 
 has cost, in a long course of operations, the sum of thirteen 
 hundred thousand pounds, and the lives of several thousand 
 Indians forced into the employment. Far the greatest of 
 all the lakes of the Mexican isthmus is that of Nicaragua 
 in the south, reported to be a hundred and seventy miles in 
 length, and about half so much broad. 
 
 The vast lake of Nicaragua, by artificial canals, and Rivers, 
 rivers which flow in its vicinity to opposite coasts, might 
 perhaps, if the ground were well examined, afford the 
 best situation, any where in the Mexican isthmus, for the 
 opening of a navigable communication between the two 
 oceans. Projects for the forming of such a navigation have 
 
MEXICO* 
 
 been several times conceived, but their practicability has 
 no where, within the limits of Mexico, been as yet demon 
 strated. The rivers of this region, mostly small and in 
 navigable, are little favourable for the execution of such 
 plans. In the southern parts, from the narrowness of the 
 land, the streams are small; yet are comparatively very wide 
 at their mouths. In the northern, from the rapid descent 
 of the country toward the shores, they are generally tor 
 rents. The only great river which flows through the Mexi 
 can soil, but which however belongs much more properly 
 to North America, is the Bravo, called also Rio del Norte, 
 which runs nearly through a length of fifteen hundred miles, 
 from its source in the North American regions to its eflux 
 into the Gulf of Mexico. Of the rivers whose courses are 
 confined within the limits of Mexico, the greatest, and 
 doubtless one of the principal for the purpose of commerce, 
 is the Santiago, which falls into the Pacific ocean. Of the 
 rest among the chief are the Tula and Panuco, which dis 
 charge their waters by a united stream into the Gulf of 
 Mexico. Among the smaller rivers in a more southerly si 
 tuation, which are conceived capable of utility for internal 
 traffic, the Guasacualco and Alvarado are particularly 
 noted, whose channels lie to the south-east of the maritime 
 town of Veracruz. 
 
 seasons. From its tropical situation the temperature of Mexico 
 
 may naturally be expected to be extremely hot, which is 
 actually the case in all the low parts of the country, as the 
 maritime tracts and the flat peninsula of Yucatan. In such 
 HI general, wherever the land is not elevated more ihan a 
 
MEXICO. 9 
 
 thousand feet above the level of the ocean, the mean heat of CHAPTER 
 the air, or the temperature calculated at a medium through 
 out the year, raises Fanenheit's thermometer to about or 
 near the seventy -seventh degree. But in the great northern 
 portion of the isthmus, from the contour of this region, the 
 temperature of the vast central plains is rather cold, or at 
 least cool, than hot. Here the medial warmth is commonly 
 from fifty-one to fifty-five degrees : but in the highest 
 plains, as that of Toluca, the thermometer, during great 
 part of the day, never rises higher than the forty-third or 
 forty-sixth degree. Sometimes, but indeed rarely, it has 
 sunk below the freezing point in the valley of Tenochtitlan, 
 and snow has been seen there in the streets of the metropolis: 
 but the elevation of the line of perpetual snow seems hardly 
 less in this latitude than fifteen thousand one hundred feet 
 above the ocean. Between the coolness of the interior 
 plains and the suffocating heat of the coasts, various inter 
 mediate degrees of temperature have place. All these 
 variations may be experienced in one day, in descending 
 on the capid declivity of the eastern side to the shore at 
 Veracruz. The whole ascent of the land, from the ocean 
 to the highest plains, is conceived, in respect of tempera 
 ture, to be divided into three zones. The hottest zone, 
 which is the lowest of the three, ascends very little above 
 the elevation of three thousand nine hundred feet from the 
 ocean's level. Hence to the height of four thousand nine 
 hundred feet extends the middle or temperate zone, where 
 reigns a soft and perpetual spring, free from all severities 
 of cold and heat, where the temperature is so equable 
 as not to vary more than about nine degrees of the ther- 
 
 B 
 
IQf MEXICQt 
 
 CHAPTER morneter throughout the year, and where the medial heat 
 
 ' amounts to about sixty-eight or seventy. But, as no great 
 
 advantage can be expected without some accompaniment 
 of an opposite nature, the elevation of this tract is that to 
 which the clouds ascend above the maritime plains : hence 
 this otherwise charming^ region, more especially its lower 
 parts, is frequently enveloped in hazes or thick fogs. 
 Concerning the third or highest zone, which comprehends 
 the most elevated flats, to add any thing to that which I 
 have already said seems quite unnecessary. 
 
 The heat is found greater on the western than on the 
 eastern coast, and also more uniform throughout the year, 
 except that an extraordinary coolness has been observed to 
 prevail a few hours before sunrise. On the eastern the 
 ardours are greatly allayed by winds from the north-west, 
 which blow frequently from the autumnal to the vernal 
 equinox, with the most violence in March, commonly with 
 the least in September and October. Sometimes, but 
 indeed rarely, tempests from the north are felt here even 
 in May, August, and the intermediate months, in what is 
 accounted the favourable season, or that of the breezes^ 
 gentle gales from the south, which mostly prevail, with con 
 siderable regularity, from March to September. On the 
 western coast what is called the fine season has place in a 
 different part of the year, from October to May : but even 
 then the tranquillity of the Pacific ocean is here interrupted 
 by impetuous winds from about the north-east. Of the 
 foul season in these tracts the months most dangerous to 
 navigators are July and August, when terrible hurricanes 
 
MEXICO. 11 
 
 blow from the south-west. Storms also from the same CHAPTER 
 
 quarter accompanied with tremendous thunder and rain, 
 
 render the eastern coasts of Nicaragua and the neighbour 
 ing parts inaccessible to shipping almost through the whole 
 of August and September. Thunderstorms on these coasts 
 are indeed frequent during the greater part of the year, 
 and in the hottest months are often tremendously violent. 
 In general in the Mexican regions the wet season begins 
 in June, and continues about four months : but in the 
 southern parts, where the land between the oceans is nar 
 row, and the mountains are adapted to -the interception of 
 the clouds, the rains are far from being confined within so 
 small a portion of the year ; nor are the times of rain and 
 drought the same at once in the plains and mountains. In 
 the broad region of the north, where the high plains of the 
 interior form the ridge of the cordillera, the showers are in 
 frequent in the table-land, whose naked surface attracts 
 not the vapours, and thus is deteriorated by an encreasing 
 deficiency of moisture, while the low maritime tracts are 
 copiously watered fram June to September inclusively. 
 The showers commence later on the western coast than on 
 Ihe eastern, but continue longer. In the elevated plains 
 the air is salubrious, but on the coasts it is quite otherwise, 
 especially in the hottest months: yet at least in some of 
 the maritime tracts, as at the British settlement in Yucatan, 
 it is found far less unwholesome than in the West Indian 
 islands.* 
 
 * Humboldt, vol. 1, p. 6587 ; vol. 2, p. 250252 ; vol. 4, p. 148 
 160. Henderson's Account of Honduras, London, 1809, p. 911. 
 
 * 2 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 History. 
 
 Previous to an account of the products of the Mexican 
 soil, which vary with the temperature, but of which many 
 new .species have been added to the old since the conquest 
 of the country by the Spaniards, a sketch of the history of 
 this vast region may not perhaps improperly have place. 
 Like every other part of the New world, or American he 
 misphere, the existence of Mexico was totally unknown to 
 the inhabitants of Europe and of all the other regions of 
 the Ancient world, till its discovery by the Spaniards, who 
 first, under Columbus, visited the coast of Darien in the 
 year 1502, that of Yucatan, under Hernandez Cordova, 
 in 1617, and that of Veracruz, and of the territories extend 
 ing thence northward, in the following year, under Juan 
 de Grijalva. The discoverers, in the two latter expeditions, 
 more especially Grijalva and his associates, who had hi 
 therto beheld no natives of the American hemisphere in a 
 condition of society much raised above the state of nature, 
 were astonished when they found a numerous population 
 well clothed in cotton, considerably civilized , and forming 
 the subjects of a great empire, in which a very regular 
 system of government, both civil and religious, had been 
 fully established. This was the great kingdom of Tenoch- 
 titlan or Mexico, of whose foundation and subsequent ag 
 grandizement a history is pretended to be given from Mexi 
 can records, penciled in a kind of painted hieroglyphics, 
 by which events and their dates were attempted to be trans 
 mitted to posterity. I must own that a history derived 
 from such a source appears to me considerably dubious, 
 notwithstanding all arguments adduced in its favour ; yet 
 
MEXICtf. 13 
 
 not to lake some slight notice of it might not be regarded CHAPTER 
 as altogether excusable.* 
 
 According to the interpretations given to us of these 
 paintings, several tribes or nations, migrating southward 
 from some regions unknown, successively settled in Ana- 
 huac, by which name is understood to be signified all the 
 land of the Mexican isthmus between the fourteenth and 
 twenty-first degrees of northern latitude. The first were 
 the Toultecs, who arrived about the year 648 of the Chris 
 tian era, a people somewhat advanced in civilization, who 
 cultivated .maize and cotton, built cities, formed public 
 roads, erected great pyramids, the remains of which are still 
 admired, used hieroglyphic paintings, and measured their 
 time by a solar year less imperfect than that of the Greeks 
 or Romans. The Chichimecs made their appearance in 
 1170, the Nahualtecs in 1178, the Acolhuesand the Aztecs 
 in 1196. The last, who have since been called Mexicans, 
 by the people of Europe, are said to have long remained in 
 a state of comparative weakness, to have founded the city 
 of Tenochtitan, in the valley of that name, in the year 
 1325, and to have at length gained an ascendancy, and 
 finally, a dominion over the neighbouring tribes. Prom 
 Mexitli, the appellation of their god of war, to whom their 
 chief temple was dedicated, their Metropolis and whole 
 empire were called Mexico by the Spaniards. Their go 
 vernment, whatever may have been its original form, 
 became ultimately a monarchy, where nine kings are re- 
 
 * See Clavigero's History of Mexico. 
 
I. 
 
 14 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER corded as reigning in succession, of whom the ninth, JVlon- 
 - tezuma the Second, was on the throne when Europeans fjrst 
 visited this country. 
 
 Indeed, from existing circumstances, various races of 
 men appear to have successively taken their abode in the 
 great Mexican isthmus. Above twenty languages, as dif 
 ferent from one another as any two languages of Europe, 
 are spoken in this country. Of not less than fourteen of 
 these have grammars and dictionaries been written. But 
 the signal predominance of the Aztec tongue, which is 
 spoken from the lake of Nicaragua through an extent of 
 eleven or twelve hundred miles northward, seems a strong 
 argument in favour of a far more early origin, or far longer 
 duration, of the Aztec empire than is assigned to it by its 
 pretended history. The account, however, given in that 
 history, that this and other tribes of invaders had come from 
 countries of a northwesterly situation, is highly probable, 
 since we find that these had fixed their habitations in the 
 elevated plains, where a cool temperature prevails, similar 
 to that of more northern regions, in preference to the low 
 maritime tracts, where the soil is more fertile, bat the heat 
 much greater. From what countries they came we have 
 no ground to determine. The general conjecture is, that 
 they were originally emigrants from the northern parts of 
 Asia. As their posterity, when first known to Europe, 
 were unacquainted with any other gram than maize, and 
 were quite ignorant of the use of milk and beasts of bur 
 den, they could not have migrated from any country into 
 which the agriculture, or even pasturage, of Asiatic people 
 had been introduced. 
 
MEXICOi 15 
 
 Beside the great kingdom of Mexico, thus denominated CHAPTER 
 
 from its metropolis, several independent tribes and states 
 
 were found by the Spanish discoverers subsisting in this 
 vast isthmus. In the north were the savage clans of hunters, 
 called Otomites and Cicimecs. Among states composed of 
 people comparatively civilized, seated more toward the 
 south, and bordering the Aztec empire on the eastern and 
 western sides,, were the kingdom of Mechoacan and the 
 republic of Tlascala. The territory of the latter was only 
 sixty miles distant from the Mexican capital. The chiefs 
 of Yucatan, the savage tribes of Honduras and of the more 
 narrow tracts in the south, were exempt from the dominion 
 of the Aztec monarchs. This dominion appears to have 
 been confined, at the time of the Spanish discovery, within 
 a space of six hundred miles in length and about one 
 hundred and forty broad, containing perhaps an era nearly 
 equal to that of the island of Great Britain. What may 
 have been its population can only be conjectured. This 
 doubtless was more dense about the seat of government, 
 particularly the valley of Tenotichlan, than at present, but 
 may have elsewhere been more thin. The monarch of this 
 realm appears to have been absolute, but the nobility 
 under him to have been visited with the same pernicious 
 powers of the fuedal description as the nobles of the ill-go 
 verned kingdoms of Europe, by which the lower orders 
 were miserably oppressed. The political system had been 
 carried to such a pitch of improvement, as in one institution 
 to surpass the best regulated at that time of European states, 
 the institution of couriers, stationed at proper intervals, to 
 convey intelligence with rapidity, to and from the court, 
 to all parts of the empire. 
 
16 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER The people of this kingdom, and of some of the adjoin- 
 
 ing states, had made considerable advances in civilization. 
 
 As they were destitute of beasts of burden, their agricul 
 ture indeed could not be so extensive as where such are in 
 use ; but where no deduction is made from the products of 
 the soil for the food of cattle, a greater number of the 
 human species may be maintained in a given space. Where 
 the cities are large and numerous, and the right of private 
 property, the distinction of ranks, 'and the division of 
 trades or professions, were fully established, much progress 
 in their state of society must be admitted. As they were 
 unacquainted with the use of iron for the fabrication of 
 sharp instruments, their attainments in the mechanic 
 arts were much slower than they might have otherwise 
 been ; yet they had found the mode of hardening copper, 
 by an admixture of tin, to such a degree as thence to form 
 axes and other instruments almost as sharp as those of steel, 
 like the brazen weapons of the ancient Greeks in the time 
 of the Trojan war. " Tin being a metal very little spread 
 over the globe, it is rather surprising that it should have 
 been used in both continents in the hardening of copper."* 
 They also made knives and other edge tools, of the volca 
 nic substance called obsidian, which was a principal object 
 of their mining industry. 
 
 In the fine arts, such as painting, the advancement of 
 the Mexicans, though much admired by the Spaniards of 
 the sixteenth century, fell greatly short of that of the 
 European artists ; nor, in literature, had their attainments 
 
 Humboldt, yol. 3, p. 116. 
 
MEXICO; 17 
 
 reached so far as the invention of an alphabet, though CHAPTER 
 
 toward it they had made some progress, in painted repre- 
 
 sentations, hieroglyphics, and numeral figures. They had 
 by some means acquired such an acquaintance with astro 
 nomy, as, by intercalations and cycles, to calculate the 
 year to a degree more nearly approaching to exactness than 
 the ancient nations of the old continent. Their ordinary 
 year contained three hundred and sixty-five days, of which 
 five were intercalary, the rest distributed into eghteen 
 equal months. They had a cycle of thirteen years, a period 
 of fifty-two, and an age of a hundred and four. They had 
 not improved so far in commercial transactions as to con 
 vert the precious metals into money ; but had used, as a 
 medium of exchange, or as the representative signs of the 
 value of things, gold dust contained in transparent quills of 
 aquatic birds, small pieces of copper of a certain shape, thin 
 bits of tin, small bales of cotton cloth, and the almonds of 
 the cocoa fruit or chocolate nut. The last are in use even at 
 this day where very small change is required. The gloomy 
 complexion of the paganism of the Mexicans, who sacrificed 
 human victims to monstrous idols, is not more an argument 
 against the civilization of this people, than against that of 
 the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, the great commercial 
 nations of antiquity : <e for nations, long after their ideas 
 begin to enlarge, and their manners to refine, adhere to 
 systems of superstition, founded on the rude conceptions of 
 early ages."* A dismal superstition, however, which re 
 quired the shedding of human blood on the altars of idola- 
 
 * Robertsons's History of America. 
 C 
 
18 
 
 CHAPTER 
 1. 
 
 try, seems to have been carried among the Mexicans to an 
 extreme no where exceeded. 
 
 Spanish 
 Conquest. 
 
 If, on the discovery of this country by the Spaniards, a 
 commercial intercourse had been established on equal terms 
 of reciprocal benefit, the Mexicans, by the introduction of 
 the European arts and literature, might have rapidly ad 
 vanced in civilization, and become, in course of time, a 
 great and wealthy people : but the sole object of the Spa 
 nish court, in sending ships to America, was conquest ; 
 and that of the adventurers was the acqusition of riches by 
 the speediest means possible, how nefarious soever. That 
 some formality should be used in the seizure of discovered 
 countries, instructions in writing were given to the adven 
 turers, in which they were authorised to require the natives 
 to submit themselves as subjects to the king of Spain, in 
 consequence of a donation of their persons and territories 
 to that monarch by the Pope, and to embrace the Roman 
 Catholic system of Christianity, instead of the heathenish 
 rites which they had practised before. In case of noncom- 
 pliance, which yet might naturally be expected, where the 
 requisitions must appear incomprehensible to the people to 
 whom they were addressed, the adventurers were commis 
 sioned to waste the land by sword and fire., and to reduce to 
 slavery the remnant of the inhabitants. For the conquest 
 of Mexico, Valasques, governor of Cuba, committed an 
 armament to the conduct of Fernando Cortes, a man of 
 most audacious ambition, intrepid courage, and power 
 ful talents; but so destitute of all principles of honesty, 
 
MEXICO! 
 
 19 
 
 honour, and humanity, as to deserve truly the title of a 
 consummate villain. 
 
 Having by intrgues drawn his men to consent, Cortes 
 assumed an independent command, disclaiming the juris 
 diction of Valasquez, who had expended much of his pri 
 vate fortune on the equipment of the expedition. With a 
 band of six hundred soldiers and seamen, he landed at a 
 place called Sanjuan de Ullua by the Spaniards, in the be 
 ginning of April, in the year 1519, at the distance of 
 about a hundred and eighty miles from the Mexican metro 
 polis. His artillery consisted of ten field pieces, and his 
 cavalry of eleven horsemen. The astonishment of the 
 natives was extreme at the display of European arms and 
 tactics, made designedly in their presence, but chiefly at 
 the explosion of the cannons, and the rapid course of the 
 horses, animals of whose existence they had been so igno 
 rant, that tht'y regarded the horse and the rider as com 
 posing one creature. Cortes professed the most friendly 
 intentions, declaring himself to be the ambassador of the 
 great emperor 6f the east, charged with despatches of a 
 nature highly beneficial to the Mexican king, and of such 
 importance, that he could not communicate them to any 
 other person than the monarch himself, to the presence of 
 whom he demanded admittance. Montezuma the Second, 
 the then reigning sovereign, having attempted in vain to 
 purchase the departure of these formidable strangers by mag 
 nificent presents, which tended only to inflame their desire 
 of seizing the plunder of a country containing so much 
 riches, transmitted at length peremptory orders that they 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 15191521 
 
20 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER should retire immediately out of his dominions. As Cortes 
 
 positively refused to reimbark, and insisted on admission to 
 
 the royal presence, matters came at once to such a crisis as 
 required a perfectly decided conduct in the Mexican mo 
 narch. He ought to have assembled a numerous army, 
 which might either have overwhelmed this handful of in 
 vaders, or at least have starved them into a departure by 
 precluding all supplies. 
 
 V v 
 
 Whether it arose from a defect in his character, which 
 indeed appears to me to be the case, or from causes not 
 satisfactorily explained, the indecision of Montezuma, who 
 only interdicted his subjects from intercourse with the stran 
 gers, was fatal to himself and his kingdom. By being per 
 mitted to remain unblockaded on the coast, Cortes found 
 means to discover dissatisfaction in certain members of the 
 empire toward its head, and to form alliances with these 
 against their native sovereign. Reinforced by the troops of 
 these allies, and justly presuming, from the particular in 
 stances which had already. occurred, on extensive disaffection 
 in other provinces, Cortes commenced his march from the 
 coast into the interior in the August of the same year. He 
 requested permission to pass through the territories of the 
 Tlascalan republic to the city of Mexico ; but this was re 
 fused by the council of state, as his designs were suspected, 
 since he had professed himself a friendly ambassador to 
 Montezuma, to whom they were enemies inveterately im 
 placable. After some desperate conflicts, in which the Tlas- 
 calans, from the vast inferiority of their arms, and from ab 
 surd practices the result of superstition, were repulsed with 
 
I. 
 
 MEXICO. 21 
 
 great slaughter, the chiefs of the commonwealth agreed to CHAPTER 
 a treaty of peace and alliance. A very debilitating circum- " 
 stance in their military system was their regarding the car 
 rying away of the dead and wounded of their party as a 
 point of honour, in like manner as the Greek in early ages, 
 as described by Homer. ' e Attention to this pious office occu 
 pied them even during the heat of combat, broke their union, 
 and diminished the force of the impression which they might 
 have made by a joint effort." Also, from some erroneous 
 idea, instead of taking every possible advantage in their 
 attacks, they sent previous notice to the Spaniards of their 
 intended hostilities ; and, instead of endeavouring to starve 
 their invaders by the prevention of supplies, they even took 
 much pains to furnish them with food. 
 
 With a reinforcement of six thousand TIascalans, Cortes 
 proceeded on his march, in which, from the fatal irresolu 
 tion of the infatuated Montezuina, he met with no impedi 
 ment. He was even accommodated with quarters, by com 
 mand of that monarch, at the city of Cholula, where the 
 Spanish commander, apprehending, or pretending to appre 
 hend, a conspiracy against him, seized the principal men, 
 and made a frightful massacre of the citizens. His object 
 was probably to strike terror, and this he appears to have 
 effected, He thence advanced at the end of October, di 
 rectly to the Mexican capital, where he was received in a 
 most friendly manner by Montezuma, who assigned him for 
 his residence a palace, with buildings and courts sufficiently 
 spacious to afford commodious lodging to all the Spaniards 
 and their auxiliaries. For the amazing irresolution of the 
 
2 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER Mexican king, and his finally amicable admission of the 
 invaders, accompanied by an army of his most inveterate ene 
 mies., into his capital, we can on no other grounds pretend to 
 account than, beside some defect in his personal character, 
 on a superstitious dread of the Spaniards, as being of a supe 
 rior kind, the object of whose coming was perplexingly mys 
 terious. Cortes, who had availed himself of all advantages 
 derivable from the ignorance and superstition of the devoted 
 prince and people, and who, in confidence of ultimate suc 
 cess, had burned his ships, to preclude, without victory all 
 hopes of return to his soldiers, now put in execution a 
 scheme which, as appears from his own letters, he had me 
 ditated from the beginning. Admitted to a friendly au 
 dience with Montezuma, he seized his person, and carried 
 him prisoner to the Spanish quarters. The want of magna 
 nimity in this monarch, who ought rather to have submitted 
 at once to the stroke of death than to betray to a foreign 
 foe the dignity of his crown and the safety of his people, 
 , favoured highly the views of the insidious European. To 
 appease the citizens, who were rising in a tumult, he de 
 clared to them from the battlements of the Spanish quarters, 
 that his removal thither was altogether his own voluntary 
 act for the spending of a short time with his new friend ; 
 and, to satisfy Cortes, he even commanded a Mexican gene 
 ral, with several officers, who had made an attack on the- 
 revolted clans on the coast, in which some Spaniards were 
 slain, to be delivered into the hands of the foreigners. On 
 a pile formed of Mexican weapons, taken from the royal ma 
 gazine in the metropolis, was this general, together with 
 his son and five of his chief officers, burned alive for having 
 
MEXICOt 23 
 
 obeyed the command of their sovereign, who thus basely CHAPTER 
 surrendered them to his perfidious enemies. 
 
 From the profound veneration of the Mexicans for their 
 sovereign, and their consequent implicit obedience to all his 
 orders, Cortes, who had rendered himself master of his 
 person, governed, during several months, the whole king 
 dom in his name, as the usual system of administration was 
 continued, but all mandates were dictatecTby the Spanish 
 leader. He even forced the captive monarch, and his nobles 
 through his influence, to the acknowledgement of subjec 
 tion, and the payment of a tribute, to the crown of Spain : 
 but, when he insisted on the abolition of the pagan modes 
 of worship, and the adoption of the Roman Catholic, he 
 found so inflexible a determination of refusal in both prince 
 and people, that prudence obliged him, for the present, to 
 desist. The discontent, excited by this attempt, was some- 
 time after enflamed to fury by a most atrocious act of vio 
 lence. Obliged to march toward the coast to oppose Nar- 
 vaez, whom Velasquez had sent with a body of troops to 
 deprive him of his command, Cortes left the custody of the 
 captive monarch to Alvarado with a hundred and fifty Spa 
 niards. In order to exterminate, as is pretended, the au 
 thors of a conspiracy alledged to subsist among the Mexi 
 cans, or allured by the spoil of the precious ornaments 
 worn on the occasion, Avarado took advantage of a solemn 
 festival, when the principal persons of the kingdom were 
 celebrating religious rites in the court of the great temple. 
 Having secretly taken possession of all the avenues, he sent 
 into the court a body of soldiers, who massacred all, except 
 
24 MEXICO, 
 
 CHAPTER a f ew wno escaped by climbing over the battlements of the 
 ' ~ enclosure. Aroused by this flagitious treacherv, the Mexi 
 cans laid aside their dread of European arms, and furiously 
 assailed the Spanish quarters, which had been strongly for 
 tified. The small garrison would doubtless have been soon 
 overwhelmed, if Cortes had not returned opportunely to its 
 relief. That commander, by intrigues of his emissaries 
 among the soldiers of Narvaez, had so succeeded as to take 
 him prisoner, and to draw his troops to his own standard. 
 With an army now augmented to the number of a thousand 
 Spaniards, beside an additional body of two thousand Tlas- 
 calans, Cortes re-entered the Mexican metropolis in the 
 June of the year 1520. 
 
 i 
 Though the Mexicans, from at want of conduct in their 
 
 O ' 
 
 leaders, permitted the enemy, without opposition, to re 
 establish himself, with a much greater force than before, in 
 his fortified post, they resumed their arms with renovated 
 fury, when, by certain expressions betrayed by the Spa 
 niards, now elated by success, they discovered, that the 
 object of these foreigners, from their first arrival, was the 
 conquest and pillage of the country. Nothing ever sur 
 passed the ardent and persevering courage displayed in their 
 assaults. The place of those who fell by the artillery and 
 other arms of the foe, was instantly filled by fresh battalions 
 which rushed successively to the combat. To cajole the 
 multitude anew, Montezuma, in the utmost pomp of royal 
 robes, was procured to appear on the battlements, and to 
 use all possible arguments to prevail on his subjects to sub 
 mit, At the sight of their sovereign a dead silence ensued ; 
 
MEXICO^ 25 
 
 but at the end of his oration, which proved him to be an CHAPTER 
 
 instrument in the hands of their most insidious and cruel 
 
 enemies, a hollow murmur prevailed, and the assault was 
 renewed. Before the Spanish soldiers could cover him with 
 their shields, he received two arrows and a blow of a 
 stone. The wounds were not mortal, but he perceived, 
 too late for the safety of his people, that life in his circum 
 stances was unworthy of preservation. Rejecting all medi 
 cal assistance and food, he expired in a few days after. A 
 retreat was found to be quite necessary by Cortes. This he 
 made in the night along one of the causeways, by which 
 the city of Mexico, then environed by water, communicated 
 with the surrounding country. But he was assailed with 
 such fury, that beside all his artillery and baggage, he lost 
 at least six hundred Spaniards, and two thousand Tlasca- 
 lans He was afterwards intercepted by a Mexican army, 
 by which his remaining force would have doubtless been 
 annihilated, if he had not availed himself of a superstitious 
 idea, which he knew to prevail among this unfortunate 
 people. By an impetuous onset, at the head of a chosen 
 band, he seized the royal standard, at the disappearance of 
 which the whole army dispersed without any other cause. 
 
 Having thus effected his retreat to Tlascala, Cortes, after 1521, 
 six months of strenuous exertion, in collecting reinforce- 
 
 * o 
 
 ments, and making other preparations, advanced against 
 the Mexican capital in the January of J 521, at the head of 
 five hundred and fifty foot soldiers, forty horsemen, and ten 
 thousand Tlascalans, with other natives. He was after 
 wards joined by such additional multitudes of the deluded 
 
 D 
 
26 
 
 CHAPTER inhabitants, that himself, in his letters, has rated the whole 
 
 ~" at the incredible number of a hundred and fifty thousand. 
 
 With these, and some fresh reinforcements of Europeans, 
 after various preparatory operations in its neighbourhood, 
 he laid siege to the city of Mexico at the end of April. The 
 Mexicans, under the command of Guatimozin, whom they 
 had raised to the throne, an heroic prince, the nephew of 
 Montezuma, made a most admirably brave defence against 
 the foreign foe, and those infatuated multitudes of their 
 compatriots, who ought to have been their associates in 
 arms instead of their antagonists : but against the vast su 
 periority of European arts, aided by such hosts, all was un 
 availing. The besiegers, by a fleet of brigantines, built in 
 the country, furnished with cannons, became masters of the 
 lake in which the city stood. The besieged were consumed 
 by famine and consequent pestilence, and by the infection 
 of the small pox, imported to them from Europe, where it 
 had not been until lately known. Yet they resisted the per 
 petually reiterated assaults of the foe with the most intrepid 
 fierceness, disputing every inch of ground with such obsti 
 nate fury, that three-fourths of the city were destroyed, in 
 successive conflicts. At length Guatimozin was taken pri 
 soner, and the assailants remained undisputed victors, on 
 the thirteenth of August, after a siege of seventy-five days, 
 almost every one of which was a day of battle. 
 
 Conducted to the presence of Cortes, Guatimozin said, 
 " I have done what became a monarch : I have defended 
 my people to the last extremity. Nothing now remains but 
 to die. Take this dagger," laying his hand on one which 
 
MEXICO. 27 
 
 the Spaniard carried., " plant it in my breast, and put a pe- CHAPTER 
 riod to a life which can be no longer useful." With the 
 
 magnanimity of the conquered prince may be contrasted 
 the baseness of his conqueror. Cortes, who appears to 
 have clandestinely appropriated to his own use great part of 
 the treasures of Montezuma and Guatimozin, to the de 
 frauding of his followers, to whom had been promised a 
 proportion of the spoil, put to the torture the royal captive 
 and the chief favourite of that monarch, to make them 
 confess where the unproduced riches lay concealed. This 
 flagitious act was committed either from a suspicion that 
 some wealth still remained undiscovered, or rather, at least 
 partly, with a design to deceive his soldiers with respect to 
 the riches which himself had secreted. The mode of tor 
 ture was this : the soles of the feet were soaked in oil, and 
 then gradually burned. When the favourite, overcome by 
 the exquisite pain, betrayed a sense of his sufferings, the 
 monarch, with an indignant look, reproved his weakness by 
 asking him, " Am I now reposing on a bed of roses?'* Over 
 awed by this reproof, the favourite became dumb, and at 
 length expired in agony. Guatimozin survived the torture, 
 but was destined to sustain a series of new indignities, and a 
 cruel death. Under a pretence, without a shadow of proof, 
 that he was conspiring with his former subjects against the 
 Spanish power, he was, in the following year, hanged, to 
 gether with the two persons next him in rank, the princes of 1522. 
 Tezcuco and Tacuba. They were suspended from the same 
 tree by their feet, with their heads hanging down, a posture 
 calculated for the prolongation of anguish. Even the ruf 
 fian soldiers of Cortes, long inured to the perpetration of 
 
28 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER crimes, murmured against this atrocious act, which doubt- 
 
 - less they regarded as a wanton display of cruelty, an act of 
 
 injustice without profit thence acquirable. 
 
 Wherever in the provinces, through which detachments 
 of the Spaniards, successively reinforced, were sent in all 
 directions, the least appearance of resistance had place, a 
 horrid slaughter of the inhabitants was committed, arid all 
 the chiefs, who were taken alive, were doomed to cruel 
 deaths. Thus, in the province of Panuco, were four hun 
 dred and sixty nobles, of whom sixty were of the first 
 rank, burned alive at once, in the presence of their children 
 and other relatives, who were compelled to be witnesses of 
 the agonizing scene. By these ferocious conquerors were 
 all the higher orders, the nobles, and gentry, and ministers 
 of religion, among whom is maintained the civilization of 
 a people, completely exterminated. The last were the de 
 positories of the literature of the nation, which thus perished 
 with them. Not content with this, the Spanish monks, in 
 general a most malevolent species of beings, actuated by a 
 superstitious zeal, the result of bigotry and ignorance, de 
 stroyed all the Mexican records on which they could lay 
 hold, conceiving them as connected with paganism, inso 
 much that only some fragments escaped their spiritual 
 fury. Those people who survived this sanguinary conquest, 
 consisting of the lower classes, the vulgar of the nation, 
 were reduced to a most abject state of slavery, in the hard 
 ships of which great numbers were soon consumed. Cortes, 
 however, the instrument of this national destruction, was 
 not long permitted to possess the full fruits of his laborious 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 crimes. The court of Spain thought proper to consign 
 the management of the revenue and the civil government 
 lo other persons, by whom he was controled in a mortify 
 ing manner, and at length, in 1530, it committed to a vice 
 roy the administration of all the conquered country, which 
 received the denomination of New Spain, a denomination 
 given at first by its discoverers to the peninsula of Yucatan 
 only. Cortes spent the last seven years of his life in Eu 
 rope, contemned and even insulted by the Spanish court, 
 while he vainly solicited his sovereign for the restoration of 
 his authority, and expired in the year 1547, in the sixty- 
 second year of his age. The history of Mexico, which 
 continued thence forward under the dominion of the crown 
 of Spain, contains hardly any events which can interest a 
 European reader, until its revolution in the nineteenth 
 century. 
 
 v 
 
 Political revolutions in Mexico are followed by no small 
 innovations in its vegetable products. From its conquest 
 has resulted the introduction of many species from the Old 
 continent ; and its exemption from the oppressions of Eu 
 ropean government must remove those discouragements 
 which the absurd policy of the Spanish court has imposed 
 upon the culture of some of the most valuable. From the 
 vast variety in the elevations and aspects of the land, which 
 gives a correspondent variety of temperature, in all degrees 
 from the fervours of the torrid zone to the coolness of re 
 gions approaching the frigid, the plants and trees of almost 
 all climates are easily propagated in the Mexican soil. Yet 
 from the want of that vigorous heat, which operates during 
 
 CHAPTER 
 i. 
 
 Vegetables- 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER a short time in the short summer of countries placed much 
 
 farther from the equator than the poles, several vegetables, 
 
 which thrive in these countries, attain not perfection in those 
 elevated plains of Mexico, where the heat, though greater 
 on the whole amount in the course of the year, is not, from 
 its equability in the torrid zone, sufficiently powerful at any 
 one season. The only kind of grain found cultivated in 
 Mexico by its discoverers was maize, which was indigenous 
 to America, whence it has been received by the Old conti 
 nent, where it was unknown till after the discovery of the 
 New. This grain, which is still the most extensively culti 
 vated, as it flourishes both in the hot lowlands and in 
 plains of nine thousand feet in elevation, is here so luxuriant, 
 as to grow to the height of from six to nine feet, and often to 
 yield four hundred fold of the seed. fc It is believed that 
 we may estimate the produce of maize in general in the 
 equinoxial region of the kingdom of New Spain at a hun 
 dred and fifty for one."* 
 
 Of the species of corn communicated from the old con 
 tinent, such as rice, wheat, barley; and rye, the first, 
 which is best adapted to the low, moist, and sultry tracts 
 along the coasts, has not become as yet, though it may pro 
 bably hereafter be, much an object of agricultural industry. 
 The three latter, with other kinds of grain common in 
 Europe, flourish only in those parts which enjoy a mild 
 temperature, between the hot regions near the ocean on 
 one side, and those plains on the other which are cold from 
 
 * Humboldt. chap. 9, 
 
MEXICO. 31 
 
 excessive height. In ascending from the coast to the cen- CHAPTER 
 
 tral table-land the commencement of their culture is not 
 
 often found at a less elevation than three or four thousand 
 feet. The barley and rye, more especially the former, are 
 cultivated on plains of greater height, or of less warm tem 
 perature, than the wheat. The last is of excellent quality, 
 and so exuberant as often to produce fifty fold or more, . 
 and very seldom so little as sixteen. The quantity of its * 
 
 produce depends in great measure on artificial irrigation, 
 as the interior of this country is ill supplied with rain. This 
 irrigation, and the consequent production of corn and 
 other esculents, might be vastly extended if the country 
 were populous. Where human industry supplies not the 
 requisite moisture the fields produce only pasturage; and 
 even that entirely fails in the dry season, from about the 
 beginning of March or ^pril till the rains begin to fall 
 about the estival solstice: The most elevated plains in the 
 central parts yield hardly even pasturage, but are bare, 
 arid, and saline, like the tracts called steppes in the im 
 mense regions of Tartary. 
 
 These bare and saline tracts however, though occupying 
 extensive spaces, bear no great proportion to the whole of 
 this fine country, " a great part of which belongs to the 
 most fertile regions of the earth."* Among the esculents is 
 the banana, indigenous to Mexico, indigenous also to tro 
 pical Asia, whence some species of this vegetable, some 
 what different from the American, have been transplanted 
 
 * HumbolcU, chap. 3. 
 
32 MEXICO^ 
 
 CHAPTER to the New world. The regions adapted to its successful 
 
 culture are those where the mean temperature of the year 
 
 is measured by the seventy-fifth degree of Fahrenheit's 
 thermometer. In the Mexican soil, in such hot situations, 
 it bears ripe fruit of from six to eleven inches in length, in 
 the tenth or eleventh month after its plantation by a sucker ; 
 and is so productive, that two days work of a man, without 
 much labour, in each week 'in the year, is sufficient for the 
 . maintenance of a family; and that any space of ground, 
 planted witli bananas, maintains twenty- five times as many 
 persons, as an equal portion sown with wheat. Indigenous 
 also to the same hot tracts of Mexico, whose elevation ex 
 ceeds not between two and three thousand feet, are the two 
 species of maniok, the sweet and the bitter, of the former of 
 which the juice is innocuous, of the latter, in a raw state, 
 poisonous. The two species seem not distinguishable by 
 the sight, nor otherwise than by the taste. The bitter juice 
 is divested of its bad qualities by boiling. Grated, com 
 pressed in sacks like apples for cider, formed into cakes, 
 and baked on plates of iron, the maniok roots yield an ex 
 cellent kind of bread, agreeable to the taste, and very nu 
 tritive, as containing much saccharine matter. The har 
 vest of this vegetable, which in its root resembles the pars 
 nip, and in its mode of culture the potatoe, comes not till 
 seven or eight months after the planting of the slips. In 
 plains more elevated and not so sultry is the potatoe culti 
 vated, which appears to have been indigenous to Chili, and 
 propagated thence to the Mexican territories, where it 
 seems to have been unknown before the Spanish invasion.* 
 
 Humboldt, chap. 9. 
 
MEXICO; 33 
 
 Tobacco, an indigenous vegetable, with which the east- CHAPTER 
 
 ern hemisphere has been furnished by America, would be ' 
 
 cultivated to great extent, if its culture were not restricted 
 by Spanish ordonnances. The case is different with the 
 sugar-cane, which has been imparted by the Old world to 
 the New, and of which the cultivation has rapidly encreased 
 since the conclusion of the eighteenth century. As the 
 work is here performed by hired labourers, and consequently 
 at vastly less expense than in the West Indian islands, 
 where slaves only are employed, this and other continental 
 countries will probably, in course of time, supersede the 
 exportation of sugar from those islands. Before the intro 
 duction of the cane into their territories, the Mexicans pro 
 cured sugar from the stalk of the maize and other vegetables. 
 The culture of flax and hemp has been discouraged, but 
 indigenous cotton of the finest quality is copiously pro 
 duced. Several species of the indigo plant are also natives 
 of the Mexican soil, but the province of Guatimala, of 
 which the annual product of the best quality in the world, 
 is valued at above half a million, is the chief scene of its 
 cultivation. Sarsaparilla, the sanative root of which is so 
 well known, grows wild in great quantities, as also the 
 jalapa plant, a kind of what the botanists term convolvulus, 
 from which the medicinal powder of jalap is made. The 
 region most productive of these two vegetables, the eastern 
 slope of the Mexican land, is also most remarkable for the 
 growth of the vanilla, a plant wiiich adheres to trees like 
 ivy, and bears leaves like those of the laurel, but larger, 
 and pods with an aromatic pulp, applied to the imparting 
 of a perfume to chocolate. It grows spontaneous in the 
 forests, but is meliorated by the care of man. 
 
 E 
 
34 MEXICOt 
 
 CHAPTER Among the indigenous fruit trees is the cocoa, the almonds 
 
 '- of which are manufactured into chocolate. This by the 
 
 Spaniards was found in use among the Mexicans under the 
 name of chocolate. Yet at present the cultivation of this 
 valuable tree is neglected in all the Mexican provinces ex 
 cept ( j i iat i mala. The plantation of coffee has been lately 
 introduced, and may probably become considerable. The 
 same prediction may be admitted concerning the olive and 
 the grape, which thrive well in this country, since the trans 
 plantation of the trees from Europe, but have been pre 
 vented by government from becoming an object of extensive 
 culture. The agave or maguey tree, which varies much 
 in species, has served in place of the vine to furnish liquor 
 to the aboriginals. This liquor extils from a cut made 
 where a great bunch of flowers would otherwise be deve 
 loped. An ordinary product from a tree of hardly five feet 
 high is a hundred and and fifty bottles in the year ; but the 
 quantity is often considerably greater. The vinous juice, 
 thus obtained, abounding in saccharine matter, ferments, 
 is fit for use in a few days, and, though it has a fetid smell, 
 is preferred by some of even the white inhabitants to every 
 other beverage. It is called pulque by the Spaniards, re 
 sembles cider in appearance, and yields by distillation a very 
 strong brandy. From the bark of this tree the ancient 
 Mexicans manufactured their paper. 
 
 To enumerate all the vegetables of a country, which, by 
 its various elevations and temperatures, unites the products 
 of the temperate and torrid zones, could not be attempted 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 35 
 
 in this work. The variety of its forest trees is altogether 
 prodigious. Among these are the cabbage palm, the cotton 
 tree, the ironwood, the mahogany, the logwood, the cedar, 
 the oak, and the pine. The first, which bears a mass of 
 edible substance at its top, of a white hue, and of an agree 
 able taste, like that of the artichoke, is beautifully majestic, 
 growing to the height of above a hundred feet. The second, 
 little less in height, bears a most beautifully splendid profu 
 sion of variously coloured flowers, in which predominates 
 the hue of the carnation, succeeded by small pods, in which 
 is contained cotton of a silky fineness. The logwood and 
 mahogany are so abundant as to have induced some English 
 adventurers, at no small risk, in defiance of the Spanish 
 power, to form a settlement in Yucatan, in the bay of Hon 
 duras. The mahogany tree, conspicuous in the dense 
 forests by its leaves of a reddish yellow, is of so vast a size, 
 that, though it is cut at the height of twelve feet from the 
 ground, a single tree is often found to measure twelve 
 thousand superficial feet, and to bring a price of more than 
 a thousand British pounds.* Near the city of Mexico have 
 been cypresses found fifty feet in girth, f 
 
 The most useful quadrupeds of this, as of other American 
 countries, are all of foreign introduction, as the horse, the 
 ass, the cow, the sheep, and the hog, all of which have mul 
 tiplied to a suprising degree. Two species indeed of the 
 neat, one of which is called the musk ox, were indigenous, 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 T. 
 
 * Henderson, p. 55. 
 
 r Humboldt's Researches, vol. 1, p. 251. 
 E 2 
 
 AnimaU. 
 
36 MEXICO, 
 
 CHAPTER but never made subservient to the use of man by taming-, 
 - - Several indigenous varieties of the dog were found in a do 
 mestic state among the Mexicans, one of which, termed 
 techichi, was eatea by the natives, for which purpose it was 
 frequently emasculated and fattened. As this people were 
 destitute of labouring quadrupeds, all the operations of 
 agriculture and the carrying of burdens were performed by 
 the unaided strength of the human, species. Among the 
 innumerable species of wild quadrupeds are some varieties 
 of the deer, the arrnidillo, the porcupine, and the monkey. 
 We find also the pecaree, the agootee, the racoon, the ant- 
 eater, the tapeer, and the opossum. The beasts of prey are 
 chiefly varieties of the cat, to the two largest species of 
 which the name of tiger is given, though their size is gene 
 rally far from entitling them to that denomination. The 
 more formidable, but more rare, of these two sorts is termed 
 the black tiger, the other the Brazilian. 
 
 . A few fowls were found tame among the natives of Mex 
 ico by the first European visiters, among which were the 
 turkey and a species of duck ; but the gallinaceous race of 
 poultry,, called the cock and hen by Europeans, was un* 
 known till its importation from the old continent. The tur 
 key, with which America has furnished the old world, is 
 much larger in its wild than in its domestic state. Perhaps 
 the former is of a different species from the latter. The 
 wild sort has been found to grow to the weight of forty 
 poyjids in the southern parts of North America.* It has 
 
 * Voyage de Michaux, p. 190. 
 
MEXICO. 37 
 
 quite disappeared in the populous parts of the vast Mexican CHAPTER 
 
 isthmus ; but it still inhabits the thick forests of Yucatan, 
 
 Honduras, and other southern tracts. Here it is said to 
 display such a brilliancy of plumage, as not to yield in 
 beauty to the most splendid species of the peacock.* Next 
 in size to this bird, and much resembling it in its habits, of 
 a beautiful figure, and quite easily tamed, but so impatient 
 of cold as not easily to bear a removal to cooler climates, 
 is the curassow, the male of which is nearly black, but the 
 female of a rich chocolate hue, with variegated spots, and 
 superior to her mate in magnitude of body. The penelope 
 eristata or quam, much esteemed for its flesh, belongs also 
 to the class of indigenous poultry. The only species here 
 known of the partridge resembles the Guinea hen much in 
 appearance, and even in size. 
 
 Amid the inconceivably great variety of birds we find the 
 dove, the wood-pigeon, the scarlet spoonbill, the humming 
 bird, the toucan, various tribes of the heron, and of the 
 parrot. The swallow has been an object of curiosity, parti 
 cularly about the bay of Honduras. Here it is seen in pro 
 digious numbers during the rainy season, but afterwards 
 totally disappears. Each morning, at the dawn, these birds 
 are observed to rise in a vast spiral column, in the form of 
 a waterspout, to a certain height, whence they disperse in 
 all directions. At sunset they re-assemble, and descend in 
 the same form, with such velocity, as to make a noise like 
 the roar of an immense torrent, or of a tremendous gust of 
 
 * Henderson, p. 110. 
 
SB MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER wind.* Of the small birds of the woods, which in general 
 
 L possess great beauty of plumage, but no melody of voice, 
 
 one of the tribes is composed of some species of the ortolan, 
 which are so numerous, that a hundred of their nests might 
 often be counted on a single tree. The lakes, the rivers, 
 and the inlets of the ocean, are covered with vast flocks of 
 water-fowl of various kinds, among which is a species the 
 same in appearance with what is termed in Europe the Mus 
 covy duck. 
 
 The tribes of serpents, lizards, and other reptiles, seem 
 bere to be nearly the same as in other tropical countries. 
 Among the inhabitants of the waters are the manatee and 
 alligator. The turtle, also, particularly in three species, 
 abounds in the neighbouring seas. In general the marine 
 animals are the same with those of other American regions 
 within the torrid zone ; but the case is somewhat different 
 in respect of the terrene. The latter, in the northern and 
 elevated lands, are like those of the neighbouring countries 
 of North America ; but in the hot maritime; and southern 
 territories they are similar to those of the South American 
 regions between the tropics. The shell which yields the 
 purple dye, and that which contains the pearl, are consi 
 derably copious on the western coast, the former chiefly 
 in the bay of the Tehuaritepec, the latter in the bay of Pa 
 nama. The Pacific ocean in the vicinity of the vast Mex 
 ican isthmus, particularly between the main land and the 
 Marias islands, abounds in whales of the largest size and 
 
 * Henderson, p. 120. 
 
MEXICO* 3J 
 
 most valuable kinds. The chief object of pursuit to fishers CHAPTER 
 
 in tliis tract of ocean is the cachalot, in the enormous ca- ' 
 
 verns of whose snout is contained the substance called 
 spermaceti. A single fish of this species often yields above 
 a hundred and twenty barrels,, of above thirty gallons each, 
 of this unctuous matter.* This fishery has been hitherto 
 pursued almost exclusively by adventurers from the British 
 Islands and the United States of North America. 
 
 Of the insect tribes the most useful and most worthy of , 
 
 notice are the bee, the silkworm, and the cochineal. Mex 
 ico possesses an indigenous bee, either destitute of a sting-, 
 or armed only with a feeble one, the wax of which is not 
 so easily whitened as that of Europe. This species abounds 
 particularly in Yucatan, especially in the environs of the 
 town of Compeachy, which sometimes exports near eight 
 tuns of wax in the year. The white mulberry tree, with 
 its concomitant silk worm, was brought early from Europe 
 into this country, but its culture has not been permitted to 
 extend. Several indigenous kinds, however, of the cater 
 pillar called silkworm, subsisted there, together with a 
 species of mulberry, previously to the discovery of America, 
 of the silk of some of which a few stuffs are still manufac 
 tured. Most of these feed on leaves entirely different from 
 those of the mulberry, particularly on those of a tree called 
 the arbutus madrono. These insects weave their silk into 
 pendent bags, seven inches long, of a brilliant whiteness, 
 composed of several stratums of so dense a tissue, as to 
 
 * Hamboldt, chap, 10. 
 
40 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER resemble Chinese paper, and to be applicable to the same 
 ' US e. It is in fact a natural paper, which the ancient Mex 
 icans used in writing, pasting together several stratums, to 
 render the thickness such as they thought proper.* They 
 also wrote on the parchment of the skins of stags, and on 
 paper fabricated from the bark of the agave. The lustre 
 of the madrono silk, as this is termed, would render it 
 highly valuable, if impediments were not opposed to the 
 fabrication of it into cloth by the extreme difficulty expe 
 rienced in the winding of the thread. 
 
 The cochineal insect, indigenous only in the American 
 regions, but begun to be propagated lately in the Indian, 
 is of about the size of a bug, found adhering to a thorny 
 shrub termed nopal, which bears a fruit resembling the fig. 
 This insect is of two kinds, the wild and the fine. The no 
 pals also, on which two kinds subsist, are specifically or 
 essentially different. The wild cochineal, which thrives in 
 several parts of South America, as well as in Mexico, is co 
 vered with a white sort of down, like cotton, which increases 
 with its age. Though the colour, which it yields is very 
 beaufiful, and permanent, it is little esteemed in comparison 
 of the fine. The latter sort, which is larger than the wild, 
 and powdered with a white substance, resembling fine 
 meal, requires very much the care of man, particularly in 
 the culture of the nopals, which are not permitted to grow 
 above the height of four feet, and the preserving of the ani 
 mal from destructive insects and other enemies. . At a cer- 
 
 Humboldt, chap. 10. 
 
MEXICO; 41 
 
 tain stage of its existence the animal is killed, by being CHAPTER 
 
 J ! 
 
 plunged in hot water, or by other means. In some districts 
 
 it affords three harvests, or gatherings, in the year. Its 
 production appears to have been more general in Mexico, 
 to which it seems to have been peculiar, before the Spanish 
 conquest than at present. Its culture has been lately almost 
 confined to the province of Oaxaca, which is said to furnish 
 Europe with four hundred tuns annually, at the price of 
 half a million. So lately as about the middle of the eigh 
 teenth century, a considerable quantity was produced in 
 Yucatan, but in a single night the insect was exterminated 
 in that peninsula by the cutting of all the nopals. This 
 deed is charged by the aboriginals to the account of the 
 government, which is said to have adopted this measure for 
 the securing of a monopoly to cultivators in other parts : 
 but by the white inhabitants of Mexico it is ascribed to the 
 aboriginals, who are said to have been actuated by resent 
 ment at the low price fixed by Spanish avarice on the pro 
 duct of their industry.* In either supposition the fact is 
 conformable to the erroneous system of Spanish admi 
 nistration. 
 
 Whatsoever may be in future times the product of the 
 soil in this fertile country, under an improved political sys 
 tem and an augmented population, the great object of 
 pursuit has hitherto been the metals of gold and silver. 
 Minerals of other kinds, which appear to be sufficiently 
 copious ' in the bowels of the earth, as copper, tin, lead, 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 10. 
 
42 MEXICO, 
 
 CHAPTER iron, and mercury, have been as yet much neglected. Tin 
 ''-" is discovered, in the same manner as gold-dust, in alluvions 
 grounds, or the beds of torrents. Mercury, so much used 
 in the extraction of silver by amalgamation, may probably 
 hereafter be procured in such quantity from the Mexican 
 mines as not only to supply the consumption at home, but 
 also, in a considerable degree, that of Europe, instead of 
 the Mexican miners being, as at present, furnished in great 
 part thence with this mineral. Among the very various 
 substances of the fossil class, found in several territories of 
 this vast region, are zinc, antimony/ and arsenic : but cobalt 
 and manganese appear not to have occurred in such quantity 
 as to merit notice. Neither has salt been discovered in a 
 mineral state, in masses of great size, but is thickly dissemi 
 nated in those high argillacious lands which form the ridge 
 of the (fordillera, and which resemble in their nature the 
 great saline plains of Tartary and Tibbet. It is also found 
 in marine marshes, after the evaporation of the water by 
 the sunbeams., particularly about the port of Colima on the 
 coast of the Pacific ; and in the beds of desiccated lakes 
 in the interior country, especially in that of Penon- 
 blanco, on the northern borders of the province of Zaca- 
 tecas, which, on becoming regularly dry about the brumal 
 solstice, yields annually to government above twelve thou 
 sand tuns of salt, not pure, but mixed with particles of 
 earth. 
 
 Mining industry in Mexico has heretofore been directed 
 almost exclusively to gold and silver. The quantity pro 
 cured of the former is however comparatively small., not 
 
MEXICO. 43 
 
 equal in value to a twentieth part of the latter. The gold is CHAPTER 
 
 obtained not only from alluvions grounds by the common ' 
 
 process of washing, but also, either pure or mixed with 
 silver, in the mines. The silver exported annually from 
 Mexico is computed at near sixteen hundred and fifty thou 
 sand pounds of troy weight. The quantity indeed extracted 
 from the earth in this country is said to be ten times as great 
 as that which is furnished by all the mines of Europe toge 
 ther, and to constitute two-thirds of what is drawn from 
 all parts of the globe. Yet, though mines are worked in 
 near five hundred places, above one half of the whole quan 
 tity procured is said to be yielded by the three districts of 
 Guanaxuato, Zacatecas, and Catorce. Guanaxuato alone 
 is said to produce above a fourth part of the silver of Mex 
 ico, and a sixth of all exported from all the regions of 
 America. By an ingenious calculation the quantity of sil 
 ver furnished in the course of three centuries by the mines 
 of all America is computed to amount to above three hun 
 dred and sixteen millions of pounds of troy weight. The 
 product of the Mexican mines, which have so vastly con 
 tributed to this enormous sum, has been in a state of 
 increase since the middle of the eighteenth century. Not 
 withstanding the unequalled wealth afforded by these 
 mines, they exhibit not such large blocks of native silver as 
 have been discovered in the Old continent. This metal is 
 commonly disseminated in the metalliferous earth, in a pure 
 state indeed, but in particles so minute as not to be percep 
 tible except through a microscope, and so thinly arranged., 
 that sixteen thousand ounces of this earth yield only three 
 or four ounces of silver. The territories in this country 
 
44 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Antiquities. 
 
 MEXICO, 
 
 most abundant in the precious metals are situated between 
 the twenty-first degree and the twenty-fourth and a half of 
 northern latitude, on the ridge and western slope of the 
 Cordillera, at elevations of from near six thousand to near 
 teji thousand feet above the ocean's level, mostly in places 
 of such a temperature as is favourable to vegetation and 
 agriculture.* All the works of the Mexican mines are 
 voluntarily performed by hired labourers, who are paid at 
 least three or four shillings a day. 
 
 In their search for the precious metals the first colonists 
 from Spain were guided by the indications of mines received 
 by them from the natives. These had not only discovered 
 the means of extracting treasure from alluvious earths, but 
 had also long " applied themselves to subterraneous opera 
 tions in the working of veins. They cut galleries and dug 
 pits of communication and ventilation ; and they had instru 
 ments adapted for the cutting of the rock." The excava 
 tions formed by their mining industry are among the monu 
 ments which attest that the ancient Mexicans had made 
 much greater progress in the arts than is generally supposed. 
 They had not proceeded to the coinage of gold and silver, 
 but had converted them into various ornaments, particularly 
 vases of exquisite workmanship, some of which were in pre 
 servation until very lately. Of their instruments made of 
 obsidian and of copper mixed with tin I have already made 
 mention. Some monuments of combined labour, works 
 executed for religious or political purposes, might be ex- 
 
 * For a full account of the mines see Humboldt, chap. II. 
 
MEXICO. 45 
 
 pected to remain, where a nation once subsisted so nume- CHAPTER 
 
 rous and under so regular a government. The fortified hill ^T 
 
 of Xochicalco is remarkable, surrounded by a wall and 
 
 ditch above two miles in circuit. But in the capital and its 
 
 environs, where the old city was destroyed by its ferocious 
 
 conquerors, few relics of antiquity are found, except the 
 
 ruins of aqueducts and of dikes constructed for resistance 
 
 against inundation, two vast blocks called the stone of the 
 
 sacrifices and the stone of the calendar, the colossal statue 
 
 of a goddess covered with hieroglyphics, and two religious 
 
 structures, called teocallies, at some distance, in the vicinity. 
 
 The stone of the calendar is denominated from the use to 
 
 which it was applied, and that of the sacrifices, on which 
 
 immolated victims were thrown, is adorned with a relievo, 
 
 representing the triumph of a Mexican king. These blocks, 
 
 containing each above three hundred cubic feet, serve to 
 
 shew what huge masses the ancient Mexicans contrived to 
 
 move, by what means we are not informed. But, among 
 
 a multitude of idols, has been lately found buried a carved 
 
 stone of above ten times the size of either of these, which 
 
 the Spaniards endeavoured in vain to remove. 
 
 The remains of religious piles are however the chief mo 
 numents of Mexican antiquity. These were all truncated 
 pyramids, bearing a rude resemblance to some of the cele 
 brated pyramids of Egypt, ascending by stages, and termi 
 nating above in a flat surface, on which were placed the 
 imagres and altars of their deities. Great stairs of hewn 
 
 o 
 
 stone conducted, on the outside, from the bottom to the top 
 of the fabric ; but whether or not the mass was solid through- 
 
46 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER out, or contained apartments within, has not been deter- 
 
 mined. The great teocalli in the Mexican metropolis, 
 
 which was probably the model of all others, was destroyed 
 by the Spaniards, but the remains of two are still seen in the 
 same valley, north-eastward of the lake of Tescuco. One 
 of these, consecrated to the sun, has a base near seven hun 
 dred feet long, and, in its present state, a perpendicular 
 height of a hundred and eighty. The other, which was de 
 dicated to the moon, rises from a smaller base to the height 
 of only a hundred and forty-four feet. Each is a mingled 
 mass composed of stones and clay, incased with a thick wall 
 of a porous kind of stone termed amygdaloid and with 
 lime. The sides of these structures face not exactly the 
 four cardinal points of the compass, but deviate only fifty- 
 two minutes from that position, from which the pyramid of 
 Cholula deviates not at all. The base of this, the greatest 
 of all these piles in Mexico, is fourteen hundred and twenty- 
 three feet broad, and what remains of the height is a hundred 
 and seventy-seven. It is composed, as far as known, of 
 alternate stratums of brick and clay, faced on each side 
 with a wall of amigdaloid. The materials are different in 
 the pyramid of Papantla, in the northern part of the pro 
 vince of Veracruz. With a base exactly square, of a breadth 
 of eighty-two feet, and with a height of not more than sixty- 
 five, the teocalli of Papantla is much less remarkable for 
 its size than for its symmetry, and for the polish and per 
 fectly regular cut of the immense blocks of hewn stone of 
 which only it is composed. Six stages in this pile, adorned 
 with hieroglyphics, are still visible, and a seventh seems 
 concealed by a rank vegetation around. Environed by a 
 
MEXICO* 
 
 thick forest, and concealed by the silence of the aboriginals, 
 who held it in great veneration, this monument remained 
 quite unknown to Europeans, till it Was accidentally dis 
 covered after the middle of the eighteenth century.* 
 
 Among the arts of the ancient Mexicans was the manu 
 facturing of paper and cloth from silk and cotton. By the 
 introduction of wool and the use of iron by the Europeans,, 
 the manufactures of the natives are improved : but their in 
 dustry in these, as in various products of the soil, has been 
 indirectly discouraged by the government of Spain, whose 
 erroneous policy was, (hat the colonies should be totally de 
 pendant on the parent country for whatsoever merchandize 
 the latter could furnish. This system, which raised the 
 price of imported goods, by preventing a sufficient supply, 
 obliged the inhabitants to encourage a contraband traffic 
 with the Dutch and English colonies. A different state of 
 things will doubtless have place, and has even already had 
 a commencement ; but our information is limited to the situa 
 tion in which affairs were found in the earliest years of the 
 nineteenth century. Not only the colonial system of the 
 Spanish court, but also the nature of the country itself, has 
 considerably impeded its commercial operations. From the 
 great paucity of harbours, and the tempestuous weather, 
 already mentioned, inimical to navigation, the exterior com 
 merce is confined to a few harbours ; while, from the almost 
 total want of navigable rivers, the merchandize is transported 
 to and from the interior only by land-carriage ; and this 
 
 * Humboldtj chap. 8. Researches, ?oj, 1, p. 81114. 
 
 47 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Commerce. 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 [A I. carriage, from the declivities of the laml toward the coasts, 
 and the narrowness of the roads,, unfavourable to wheeled ve 
 hicles, is performed on the backs of mules and other quadru 
 peds. Thus near seventy thousand mules are employed in 
 the conveyance of goods to and from the port of Veracruz 
 alone. Another impediment is the insalubrity of the maritime 
 towns, which, from their low situation, are exposed to violent 
 heats, unpropitious to the health of Europeans, and of the 
 inhabitants of the elevated plains of the interior country. 
 From the heat, combined with other causes, arise disorders 
 of the body, particularly the yellow fever, which frequently 
 commits great ravages at Veracruz. 
 
 The internal commerce of the Mexican provinces is main 
 tained almost entirely by land-carriage, or by a coasting 
 navigation. The external is transacted chiefly in the mari 
 time towns of Veracruz, Portabello, Panama, and Acapulco. 
 The imports consist of manufactured goods, and various 
 other articles, as wine, brandy, iron, steel, mercury, and 
 wax. Among the exports are sugar, flour, indigo, sarsa- 
 parilla, vanilla, jalap, logwood, cochineal, raw cotton, and 
 hides, but principally the precious metals, in coin, wrought 
 plate, or ingots. The annual value of the imports, which 
 is doubtless in a state of augmentation, has been calculated, 
 including the contraband trade, which is stated at the fourth, 
 at least, of the whole, to amount to four millions and a half 
 of British pounds. Gold and silver constitute more than 
 two-thirds of the exports in value, besides that near two 
 millions, in these metals, are, or at least were, annually 
 drawn out of the country in taxes to the Spanish king. Thus 
 
MEXICO. 49 
 
 all the product of the mines, estimated at nearly six millions CHAPTER 
 
 a year is exported, except a little more than the worth of 
 
 two hundred thousand pounds, which remains to augment 
 the quantity of the precious metals possessed by the inha 
 bitants. The great emporium of Mexico is Veracruz, 
 where between four and five hundred vessels receive and 
 discharge their cargoes annually. Here the chief commerce 
 with Europe is maintained ; but the port of Acapulco, one 
 of the finest in the world, where the mercantile business 
 between the Mexican and Asiatic regions is transacted, 
 hardly receives ten ships in the year. These vessels are 
 coasters, except four or five sent annually to Peru, and one 
 which has heretofore alone carried all the merchandize im 
 ported to this country from Asia. This, denominated the 
 Manilla galleon, a ship of from twelve to fifteen hundred 
 tuns, carries from Acapulco to Manilla, the capital of the 
 Philippine islands, little else than silver, but brings home 
 the goods of China, and other Asiatic countries, to the va 
 lue of about four hundred thousand pounds. Its run to the 
 Philippines, by the trade winds, is performed in fifty oj: 
 sixty days : its return, which formerly required five or six 
 months, is now accomplished in three or four.* The trade 
 of Panama and Portobello consists principally in the inter 
 change of merchandize between Spain and Peru. The 
 goods are debarked from the Pacific and Atlantic oceans at 
 these towns, and carried over land from the one to the other. 
 The commercial system of the Spanish colonies in America 
 has already undergone considerable alterations, and must be 
 expected to undergo much greater still. 
 
 Humboldt, chap. 12. 
 
50 MEXICO* , 
 
 CHAPTER The government exercised by Spain over her colonies, 
 which in so great a degree paralysed the commercial, agri- 
 
 Goveinmeut. cultural, and manufactural industry of the inhabitants of 
 Mexico, by both directly and indirectly protecting monopo 
 lies in favour of Spanish merchants, has continued still un- 
 propitious to colonial prosperity, notwithstanding some 
 favourable relaxations in later years. By the laws of the 
 state no merchandize was allowed to be imported by other 
 than Spanish vessels, and to oblige the inhabitants to supply 
 themselves by importation, their governors were instructed 
 to discourage, by indirect, means, the growth and fabrication 
 of such articles as the Spanish traders wish to sell to them. 
 The monopoly and the difficulties of land-carriage to the 
 interior raised the prices of goods to a very inconvenient 
 pitch, The disadvantage sustained by the great body of 
 the people was disregarded by the few in whose hands was 
 held exclusively the whole administration of government. 
 The natives of the country, whether of American or Eu 
 ropean descent, were excluded from all offices of power, 
 both military and civil, and to these offices were admitted 
 Europeans only, natives of Spain, Beside this exclusion 
 from authority, for the retaining of the natives in subjection, 
 mutual antipathies were encouraged between the different 
 castes Or classes of the people, as the aboriginals, the Cre 
 oles, and people of mixed breed. Not only between the 
 classes, but also between men of the same class, differing 
 only in territorial situation, aversions are prevalent. Thus 
 the inhabitants of the hot lowlands on the coasts, and those 
 of the cool highlands in the interior, bear mutual hatred ; 
 the former denominating the latter a dull or sluggish race, 
 the latter accusing the former of fickleness and levity. 
 
MXICO 51 
 
 I. 
 
 The viceroy of Mexico, as the representative of the king CHAPTER 
 of Spain, rules, like the governors of other Spanish colo- 
 mes, with nearly absolute power in this country, which is 
 styled the kingdom of New Spain by the Spaniards. His 
 power indeed is subject to controul ; but, at so great a dis 
 tance from the supreme seat of government in Europe, he 
 can more or less, according to the strength of the interest 
 by which his party is upheld, evade the restrictions imposed 
 on his authority. His jurisdiction extends into North Ame 
 rica, far beyond the geographical boundaries of the Mexi 
 can isthmus, but not farther southward than the northern 
 limits of Guatimala, which, by arrangements, destined 
 doubtless, in course of time, to give place to others, has 
 been formed into a viceroyalty almost independent of the 
 Mexican governor. The government of Guatimala com 
 prehends those of Nicaragua and Costarica, as far as the 
 political confines of New Granada, to the authority of 
 whose viceroy the isthmus of Darien is subject. Seldom 
 more than the annual sum of between twelve and thirteen 
 thousand pounds has been assigned by the Spanish court to 
 the viceroy of Mexico, a salary not adequate to the regal 
 magnificence displayed by him in public. Some, however, 
 of these governors have contrived to extort, by indirect 
 means, between three and four hundred thousand pounds, in 
 the space of a few years, from the people placed under their 
 jurisdiction : but others have acted in a most nobly disin 
 terested manner, particularly the Count de Revillagigedo 
 and the Chevalier d' Azanza, whose memories are held in 
 very great veneration. To give a formal statement of the 
 tribunals of justice and other parts of the political system, 
 
52 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER perpetually liable to be newly modeled and newly arranged, 
 seems inexpedient in this work, and could not be interest- 
 
 All the vices of the feudal power, so deleterious in Spain, 
 have passed into Mexico, with this addition of evil, that the 
 immense distance from the seat of the supreme authority 
 renders the application of remedies more difficult, notwith 
 standing the courts of justice termed audiences, and various 
 other institutions, in appearance wisely planned by that 
 high directing body, styled the Council of the Indies, to 
 whose jurisdiction are subject all the affairs of the Spanish 
 possessions in America and the Philippine islands, and 
 whose integrity of conduct has been greatly extolled.* The 
 lands are in great proportion the property of a few power 
 ful families, whose extensive possessions have gradually 
 absorbed the smaller estates, who harass the farmers, and 
 eject them at pleasure, to the vast retardation of agricultu 
 ral industry. But the evils of the political system, which 
 indeed at several successive times have been in part cor 
 rected, press chiefly on the aboriginals, who still, notwith 
 standing much accomplished in their favour, remain in a 
 miserably degraded condition. This unfortunate race of 
 people might have been exterminated, like the indigenous 
 inhabitants of the West Indian islands, if the court of Ma 
 drid had not made early exertions in their favour, exertions 
 which perhaps saved the remnant from destruction, but 
 which unintentionally tended to confirm their slavery. In- 
 
 * Depons' Caraccas, 8?o. London, 1807, yol. 1, p. 257 
 
MEXICO. 53 
 
 stead of being seized indiscriminately as slaves by the CHAPTER 
 Spaniards, the natives were distributed among them, in - 
 
 such manner that each colonist might be a protector to the 
 persons put under his authority. But, instead of protec 
 tors, the people found themselves consigned to tyrannical 
 masters, who, by a perversion of the ordonnance, treated 
 them, notwithstanding their being declared freemen by the 
 Spanish Government, as vassals affixed to the soil, and as 
 much the property of each landholder respectively as the 
 cattle in his fields. In the eighteenth century, the condi 
 tion of this race was much ameliorated. By instructions 
 from the sovereign power, particulary, to his great honour, 
 in the reign of Charles the Third, the viceroys and audiences 
 took measures to cause the protection of the laws to extend 
 to the ancient natives. This laudable design was still fur 
 ther promoted by the division of the country into intendan- 
 cies, territories over each of which a sub-governor, styled 
 intendant, presides, a part of whose duty is the protection 
 of this people. 
 
 Whatsoever attention we may imagine bestowed by the 
 government of Spain on its American colonies, no effectual 
 system of laws has as yet been derised for the aboriginal 
 Mexicans, nor have any of a salutary nature, which have 
 been enacted, answered fully the proposed end. The In 
 dians, as the pure descendents of the ancient natives dre 
 denominated, are completely insulated in society,, with re 
 spect to the rest of the inhabitants, banished in general 
 into the most barren parts of the country, and distributed 
 in villages, in which no people of any other description 
 
54 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER are permitted to dwell. Except the real or pretended de- 
 
 - seendents of their ancient nobles, who however are not 
 
 distinguishable from the rest in either dress or manners, 
 
 O 
 
 they are subjected to a poll-tax, which is regarded as a 
 brand of infamy. They are governed immediately by ma 
 gistrates of this class of gentry, who, far from being their 
 protectors, serve as the tyrannical instruments of oppres 
 sion under the white inhabitants. Such indeed is every 
 where the nature of mankind that authority is most cruelly 
 exercised by slaves. With respect to legal rights, they are 
 treated as beings of an intellect by nature inferior to that of 
 people of European descent. They are condemned by absurd 
 laws to a perpetual minority, insomuch that no deed signed 
 by any of them is obligatory, nor pecuniary contract above 
 the value of fifteen franks, or between twelve and thirteen 
 shillings. The people of any mixed breed are in like manner 
 segregated, marked with disgraceful inferiority by the poll- 
 tax, and excluded from political privileges. Various are 
 the acts of oppression exercised over these and the Indians 
 by the privileged part of the community. Thus, for in 
 stance, a white man, concerned in a manufactory, contrives 
 to bring into his debt a man of a lower class, and employs 
 him in his workshop for the payment of the debt by labour; 
 but, instead of wages in money, he furnishes him with ne 
 cessaries at a price so exorbitant that the debt is never 
 discharged. The miserable workman, thus rendered a 
 perpetual debtor, is incarcerated for life, and forced to waste 
 his health in continual toil, under the lash of an unfeeling 
 master. The white inhabitants, who tyrannize over all 
 others, are far from being equally privileged among them- 
 
MEXICO. 55 
 
 selves. To Spaniards only of European birth are confided CHAPTER 
 
 offices of trust and emolument, to the exclusion of the """ 
 
 Creoles, or natives of European ancestry. Discontent 
 against the Spanish government was the consequence 
 among the latter ; but their fear of the lower classes, in 
 case of a revolution, has restrained them from vigorous 
 measures for the asserting of their independence.* 
 
 Without the disunion of the classes of inhabitants, and 
 the well-founded dread of the rest of the natives enter 
 tained by the Creoles, the military force maintained in 
 Mexico would be inadequate to its retention under the 
 government of Spain. This force is stated at little more 
 than thirty thousand, of which the regular troops form less 
 than a third. The rest consists of a militia composed chiefly 
 of Creoles. For external defence these troops might be 
 sufficient. The coasts are unfavourable to the debarcation 
 of an invading army : the air of the maritime tracts is hos 
 tile to the health of foreigners ; and many parts of the 
 interior country would be found incommodious to the march 
 of a foe : while desarts and other obstacles on tlie northern 
 frontiers may be expected long to prevent any formidable 
 irruptions of an enemy on that quarter. The expenses of 
 the military establishment, and of other parts of the system 
 of internal government, absorb much the greater part of 
 the royal revenue raised annually from the Mexican ter 
 ritories, which has commonly amounted to between four 
 and five millions of British pounds. Above a fourth of the 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 6, 10, 12. 
 
56 
 
 CHAPTER. 
 I. 
 
 Religion. 
 
 MEXICO; 
 
 whole arises from the duties on the precious metals ex 
 tracted from the earth. Near seven hundred thousand 
 pounds a year have been sent to supply the charges of 
 government in other Spanish colonies, and above a million 
 to the royal treasury in Spain. This treasury has indeed 
 received twice as great an annual remittance from Mexico 
 as from all the other foreign possessions of the Spanish 
 monarchy together.* 
 
 The revenue of the church in Mexico is probably equal 
 to much more than a fifth of that which is levied for the use 
 of the king. The perpetually increasing income arising 
 from tithes appears to amount to about six hundred 
 thousand pounds. The lands, which are in the actual pos 
 session of the clergy, pay perhaps not more to them in 
 rent than forty or fifty thousand pounds a year ; but they 
 possess funds to the amount of upwards of ten or twelve 
 millions, lent to proprietors of lands on the security of 
 mortgages, or bequeathed, and charged on estates by a like 
 mode of security. The difference in the incomes of the 
 clergy is prodigious. Thus, while the annual revenue of 
 the archbishop of Mexico tails little short of thirty thousand 
 pounds, that of a parish priest in an Indian village is often 
 not more than twenty or twenty-five pounds The paro 
 chial clergy indeed contrive to augment their means of 
 living by levying small sums from their Indian parishi 
 oners. Thus they are paid ten franks, or between eight 
 and nine shillings, for every baptism, twenty franks for each 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 14. 
 
MEXICO. 01 
 
 certificate of marriage, twenty for interment, and from CHAPTER 
 
 twenty-five to thirty, by every individual, in offerings which 
 
 are called voluntary. A considerable inequality, in pecu 
 niary circumstances, has place even among the prelates, 
 who are ten in number, and whose aggregate yearly income 
 may be a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, but among 
 whom the bishop of Oaxaca has hardly four thousand. 
 Beside about four thousand lay brothers and sisters, the 
 Mexican clergy consist only of between eleven and twelve 
 thousand, of whom about half are regular. The convents, 
 not only here, but in all other parts of Spanish America, 
 instead of being founded in retired or solitary places, as in 
 Europe, where they contributed much to the progress of 
 agriculture, and afforded asylums of hospitality to the tra 
 veller, are mostly crowded together in towns, where they 
 are subservient to no purpose of public utility.* 
 
 Except some tribes of savages, particularly in Honduras 
 and Darien, who remain still heathens, and independent of 
 the Spanish government, no other than the Roman Catholic 
 religion is professed by any of the inhabitants of Mexico, % 
 nor indeed of any country subject to the crown of Spain. 
 The Indians however know nothing of Christianity beyond 
 its exterior forms. They still adhere to tneir ancient cus 
 toms and ideas, having only exchanged the ceremonies 
 of a sanguinary mode of worship for those of a gentle and 
 humane religion. " This change from old to new rites 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 7, 10. His account extends not to Guatimala or 
 to Dane a, for which I could only proceed by less authentic materials. 
 
58 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Towns. 
 
 MEXICO* 
 
 was the effect of compulsion, not of persuasion, and was 
 produced by political events alone, In such a complicated 
 mythology as that of the Mexicans, an affinity was easily 
 imagined between the Aztec deities and those of the east. 
 The books of ritual, composed by the Indians in hiero 
 glyphics at the beginning of the conquest, evidently shew, 
 that at that period Christianity was confounded with the 
 Mexican mythology. The Holy Ghost is here identified 
 with the sacred eagle of the Aztecs. The missionaries not 
 only tolerated, they even favoured to a certain extent, this 
 amalgamation of ideas, by means of which the Christian 
 worship was more easily introduced among the natives, 
 who, fond of whatsoever is connected with a prescribed 
 order of ceremonies, find in the Christian religion particular 
 enjoyments. The festivals of the church, the fire- works 
 with which they are accompanied., the processions mingled 
 with dances and whimsical disguises, are a most fertile 
 source of amusement for the lower Indians. Every where 
 the Christian rites have assumed the shades of the country 
 into which they have been transplanted. Indians have 
 been seen masked, and adorned with small tinkling bells, 
 performing savage dances around the altar, while a monk 
 of Saint Francis elevated the host.* 
 
 This wild mode of worship we must suppose to have 
 place only in the villages, not in the cities, where civilza- 
 tion is chiefly concentrated. Few indeed of the cities and 
 towns require particular notice, although, beside the me- 
 
 HunabolcU, chap. 6. 
 
MEXICO* 59 
 
 tropolis, some are of considerable magnitude. Thus Gua- CHAPTER 
 
 naxuata, with its suburbs, contains above seventy thousand 1 - 
 
 inhabitants ; Puebla de los AngeJes above sixty-seven 
 thousand ; and Queretaro thirty-five thousand. These 
 three cities are situate on the central table-land, at no great 
 distance from one another and from the capital. Zacatecas 
 also contains thirty-three thousand, andOaxaca twenty-four 
 thousand souls. The Spaniards, in their choice of the 
 situations of towns, followed only the traces of the indige 
 nous population. They imagined themselves to be the 
 founders of new cities when they gave new names to those 
 of the ancient Mexicans. One of the best built is Puebla, 
 with lofty houses mostly of stone, and with streets broad, 
 clean, regular, crossing one another at right angles, and 
 ending in a great square in the center. Queretaro is also 
 celebrated for the beauty of its edifices and a noble aque 
 duct. Pasquaro, inhabited by six thousand persons, is 
 only remarkable for its situation on a beautiful island in a 
 charming lake of the same denomination. The maritime 
 towns of Acapulco, Veracruz, Portobello, and Panama, are 
 famous for their commerce, though otherwise inconsi 
 derable. 
 
 Acapulco, seated on the coast of the Pacific ocean, con- Acapnieo. 
 tains not more than about four thousand inhabitants, except 
 at the arrival of the galeon from Manilla, at which time it 
 is crowded with adventitious numbers. Built against the 
 back of a chain of gigantic mountains which reverberate 
 the sunbeams, it is exposed to a suffocating heat, which 
 contributes to render the air unwholesome. Its admirably 
 
 B? 
 
60 
 
 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 Veracruz. 
 
 Portobello, 
 
 fine harbour, safe and commodious, cpnsists of a deep and 
 spacious bason, which, environed by masses of granite- of 
 a savage aspect, appears to have been formed by an explo 
 sion of subterranean fire. The harbour has two entrances, 
 and the depth of water on the coast outside is so great, that 
 a ship of the line might float almost in contact with the 
 rocks in perfect safety. For the admission of breezes from 
 the ocean, for the mitigation of heat in the town,, an opening 
 has been cut by the labour of man, through the wall of rocky 
 mountains. 
 
 Contrasted with this town in the nature of its port and 
 coast is Veracruz, regularly and beautifully built on the 
 shore of the gulf of Mexico, and containing sixteen thou 
 sand inhabitants, beside the multitudes which resort to it at 
 the season of traffic, when fleets arrive from Europe, and 
 the West Indian islands. Situate in an arid plain, it is fur 
 nished with water chiefly by cisterns, which are filled by 
 the rains in the wet season. As the country in this neigh 
 bourhood is destitute of rock, its buildings are constructed 
 of substances drawn from the bottom of the sea, such as 
 are referred to the madrepore class. That which is called 
 its port or harbour is only an unsafe road for anchorage, 
 among flats and islands, on one of which, named San Juan 
 Ulua, is a strong fortress termed a castle. Portobello, 
 thus denominated from its excellent harbour on the coast of 
 the Atlantic, in the isthmus of Darien, would not deserve 
 mention except for its trade, which has already been no 
 ticed under the article of commerce. Confined on the 
 land-side by mountains covered with wood, its air has beeu 
 
MEXICO. 
 
 61 
 
 insalubrious, but its insalubrity has decreased with the de 
 crease of the forests. On the opposite coast of the same 
 isthmus, at ihe distance of sixty miles, stands the city of 
 Panama, on an arid tongue of land destitute of vegetation, 
 in a great bay of the Pacific ocean, where a road for an 
 chorage is formed among islands, as at Veracruz. It is 
 inclosed with a wall of freestone, and its streets are gene 
 rally broad, straight, and well paved. 
 
 The capital of all New Spain, indeed the chief town of 
 all America, is the city of Mexico, seated in a most remark 
 ably beautiful valley, or widely extended bason, which is 
 enclosed, as 1 have already mentioned, with a wall of ro 
 mantic mountains, and interspersed with lakes of various 
 magnitude, five in number. The modern city stands so 
 exactly on the same ground which the ancient Tenochtitlan 
 occupied, that the site of the cathedral is that of the ancient 
 teocalli or temple ; the hotel of the Duke of M onteleone, 
 in which are kept the archieves of the state, has been 
 erected where stood the palace of the unfortunate Monte- 
 zuma ; and the street now named Tacuba is the same as 
 the old Tlacopan. Yet the ancient city stood within a 
 Jake, quite insulated by water, accessible only by boats, 
 or by three long causeways formed on great dykes : where 
 as the modern is situate wholly on continental ground, be 
 tween the extremities of two lakes, the Tezcuco and Xochi- 
 milco. The cause of this difference is the decrease of the 
 Tezcuco, whose waters have receded, and left the land dry 
 which they formerly occupied around this metropolis. The 
 dikes are partly still in existence, forming elevated cause- 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I 
 
 Panama- 
 
 Mexico. 
 
62 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER ways over marshy grounds, arid serving as barriers against 
 
 inundation. The present capital however, occupying a 
 
 square near two miles broad,, is far inferior in extent to the 
 ancient; nor perhaps is the population of the former,, con 
 sisting of nearly a hundred and forty thousand persons, 
 equal to more than a third of that of the latter. The po 
 pulation, fertility, and beauty of the whole vale of Tenoch- 
 titlan, by the first view of which the Spaniards were enrap 
 tured, have indeed much declined since the conquest of the 
 country. 
 
 ef Adorned with numerous teocallies, like so many Mo 
 hammedan steeples, surrounded with water and dikes, 
 founded on islands covered with verdure, and receiving 
 hourly in its streets thousands of boats which vivified the 
 lake, the ancient Tenochtitlan, according to the accounts of 
 the first conquerors, must have resembled some of the cities 
 of Holland, China, or the Delta of Lower Egypt. The capi 
 tal, reconstructed by the Spaniards, exhibits perhaps a less 
 vivid, though a more majestic appearance. Mexico is un 
 doubtedly one of the finest cities ever built by Europeans in 
 either hemisphere. With the exception of Petersburg!!, 
 Berlin, Philadelphia, and some quarters of Westminster, 
 there does not exist a city of the same extent which can be 
 compared to the capital of New Spain, for the uniform level 
 of the ground on which it stands, for the regularity and 
 breadth of the streets, and the extent of the public places. 
 The architecture is generally of a very pure style, arid there 
 are even edifices of very beautiful structure. The exterior 
 of the houses is not loaded with ornaments. Two sorts of 
 
MEXICO, 
 
 63 
 
 hewn stone, the porous amygdaloid called tetzontli, and es 
 pecially a porphyry of vitreous feldspath without any 
 quartz, give to the Mexican buildings an air of solidity, 
 and sometimes even magnificence. There are none of 
 those wooden balconies and galleries to be seen which dis 
 figure so much all the European cities in both the Indies. 
 The balustrades and gates are all of Biscay iron, orna 
 mented with bronze, and the houses, instead of roofs, have 
 terraces like those in Italy and other southern countries/ 1 * 
 
 The modern streets run generally in the directions of the 
 ancient, directions adapted doubtless to those of the cause 
 ways, nearly from north to south, and from east to west. 
 Some superb public buildings, and other works of art, con 
 tribute to the embellishment of this metropolis, which is 
 supplied with fresh water by two aqueducts, the larger of 
 which is above six miles long. Of the floating gardens, 
 rafts covered with soil, on the lakes, some are even still in 
 existence. 
 
 Better grounds are furnished for approximating by calcu 
 lation the number of inhabitants in the capital than the area 
 of the country, whose form is quite irregular, and of the 
 whole of which no maps quite accurate have as yet been 
 published. Extending obliquely through twenty degrees 
 of latitude, it stretches in length above two thousand miles ; 
 but its breadth is altogether various, about sixty miles only 
 at the narrowest part, the isthmus of Darien ; but at its 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. 
 
 Extent. 
 
 * Humboldtj chap. 8. 
 
64 
 
 MEXICOi 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I 
 
 Division. 
 
 broadest in the north, at what may be termed the base of 
 its figure, not less than six hundred and thirty. Perhaps if 
 its area could be accurately measured, it would be found to 
 contain near six hundred and thirty thousand square Eng 
 lish miles, or above four hundred millions of acres. 
 
 The divisions of New Spain arranged by the Spanish 
 government are political and arbitrary, and have been 
 arbitrarily altered, nor have any of its arrangements been 
 accommodated to geographical delineation on the nor 
 thern quarter, where the vast Mexican isthmus is politi 
 cally confounded with what are termed the provincias 
 internets, the territories claimed by Spain in the immense 
 peninsula of North America. In the south are the ter 
 ritories of Darien politically united with New Granada, 
 of Veragua, Costarica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Verapaz, 
 Guatimala, and Yucatan. Of the remaining portion of 
 New Spain, to the north and west of Guatimala, an old 
 division is still retained by many of the inhabitants, a divi 
 sion into the provinces, of which some are styled kingdoms, 
 of Mexico proper, New Gallicia, New Leon, New Santan- 
 der, Cohahuila, and New Biscay. The most northern of 
 these extend into North America, as also the most northern 
 of the intendancies into which this country has been more 
 recently partitioned. These territories, placed under the 
 inspection of sub-governors styled intendants, are named 
 Merida which comprehends a part of Yucatan, Oaxaca, 
 Veracruz, Mexico, Puebla, Valladolid, Guanaxuato, Gua- 
 dalaxara, Zacatecas, and San Luis Potosi. Of the last a 
 great portion belongs to the North American Peninsula. 
 
65 
 
 The provinces or territories into which New Spain CHAPTER 
 
 has been divided are exceedingly unequal in extent and 
 population, more especially the latter. The elevated plains, 
 where the temperature is mild., are in general far more po 
 pulous than the low tracks near the ocean, where the 
 soil is much more fertile, but exposed to much greater heat 
 " The interior of the country contains four cities, which are 
 not more than one or two days' journey distant from one 
 another, which possess an aggregate population of three 
 hundred and ten thousand. The central table-land from 
 La Puebla to Mexico, and thence to Salamanca and Ze- 
 laya, is covered with villages and hamlets like the most 
 cultivated parts of Lombard y. To the east and west of 
 this narrow stripe succeed tracts of uncultivated ground, 
 on which cannot be found ten or twelve persons to the 
 square league/'* or not near so much as two to the square 
 mile. " The great cities of the Aztecs, and the best culti 
 vated territories, were in the environs of the capital of Mex 
 ico, particularly in the fine valley of Tenochtitlan. This 
 alone was a sufficient reason to induce the Spaniards to 
 establish there the center of their new empire : but they 
 loved also to inhabit plains whose climate resembled 
 that of their own country, and where they could cultivate 
 the wheat and fruit trees of Europe. Indigo, cotton, sugar, 
 and coffee, the four great objects of West Indian com 
 merce, were to the conquerors of the sixteenth century of 
 very inferior interest. They sought the precious metals 
 only with avidity, and the search for these metals fixed 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 4. 
 
 Population. 
 
 
 
66 
 
 CHAPTER t nem on the central plain or ridge of the Cordillera. "* 
 Possessed of the advantage of a temperature not ungenial, 
 the mines of this country, instead of withdrawing the inha 
 bitants from agriculture, are mostly surrounded by the best 
 cultivated lands, where the raising of provisions is encour 
 aged by the markets which the multitudes collected by the 
 mining business furnish. The most populous of the inten- 
 dancies are those of Mexico, Puebla, and Guanaxuato. 
 The first is stated to contain on an average two hundred 
 and fifty-five, the second three hundred and one, and the 
 third five hundred and eighty -six persons to the square 
 league ; while the intendancy of Veracruz is supposed to 
 have only thirty-eight. The total population of all New 
 Spain appears, in the year 1803, to have exceeded seven 
 millions, and to have been in a state of rapid encrease. 
 This country indeed may probably contain about half of 
 the inhabitants of all Spanish America.f 
 
 inhabitants. About two fifths of the whole population of New Spain; 
 consist of unmixed aboriginals, termed Indians, the des 
 cendant of those ancients tribes who inhabited the country 
 before the arrival of Europeans. The white inhabitants of 
 unmixed European blood may constitute about one-fifth. 
 The rest of the population is composed of persons of mixed 
 descent, called castas by some Spanish writers. The white* 
 are divided into Creoles and Spaniards or Europeans. The 
 former are natives of America : the latter, who form hardly 
 a fourteenth of the white population, are natives of Spain. 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 4. t Idem, chap. 8 j also vol. 4, Supplement, p 322.. 
 
MEXICO- 6 
 
 The castas, the tribes of mingled extraction, are distin- CHAPTER 
 guished by the appellations of mestizos, mulattoes, and " 
 zambos. The mestizos or mestees are the mixed descen 
 dants of whites and Indians, the mulattoes of whites and 
 negroes., and the zambos of negroes and Indians, or of ne 
 groes and Chinese or Malays, imported in the intercourse 
 with the Philippine islands. " The colour of a mestizo is 
 almost a pure white, and his skin is of a particular trans 
 parency. The small beard, and small hands and feet, and a 
 certain obliquity of the eyes, are more frequent indications 
 of the mixture of Indian blood than the nature of the hair. 
 If a mestiza, a female of this race, marry a white man, the 
 second generation differs hardly HI any thing from the Eu 
 ropean race. As very few negroes have been introduced 
 into New Spain, the mestizos probably compose seven- 
 eighths of the whole castes. They are generally accounted 
 of a much more mild character than the mulattoes, who 
 are distinguished for the violence of their passions and a 
 singular volubility of tongue. The descendants of negroes 
 and Indian women bear at Mexico, Lima, and even at the 
 Havaiiah, the strange name of Chino, Chinese. On the 
 coast of Caraccas, and, as appears from the laws, even in 
 New Spain, they are called zambos." 
 
 " This last denomination is now principally limited to 
 the descendants of a negro and a female mulatto, or a ne- 
 TO and a Chinese female. From these common zambos 
 
 O 
 
 they distinguish the zambos prietos, who descend from a 
 negro and a female zamba. From the mixture of a white 
 
 i % 
 
68 MEXICO. 
 
 man with a mulatto comes the cast of quarterons. When 
 a female quarteron marries a European or Creole, her son 
 bears the name of quinteron. A new alliance with a 
 white banishes to such a degree the remains of colour, 
 that the children of a white and female quinteron are white 
 also. The casts of Indian or African blood preserve the 
 odour peculiar to the cutaneous transpiration of those two 
 primitive races. The Peruvian Indians, who, in the middle 
 of the night, distinguish different races by their quick 
 sense of smell, have formed three words to express the 
 odour of the European, the American Indian, and the ne 
 gro. In a country governed by whites, the fanlilies re 
 puted to have the least mixture of negro or Indian blood are 
 also naturally the most honoured. The greater or less de 
 gree of whiteness of skin decides the rank which a man 
 occupies in society. A white, who rides bare-footed on 
 horseback, thinks that he belongs to the nobility of the 
 country. Colour establishes even a certain equality among 
 men, who, as is universally the case where civilization is 
 either little advanced, or in a retrograde state, take a par 
 ticular pleasure in dwelling on the prerogatives of race 
 and origin. When a common man disputes with one of 
 the titled lords, he is frequently heard to say, ' do you 
 think me not so white as yourself ?' This may serve to cha 
 racterize the state and source of the actual aristocracy."* 
 
 Between the whites themselves an invidious distinction^ 
 caused by a wrong policy, has long subsisted. The na- 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 7. 
 
MEXICO. 69 
 
 tires of Europe, who are denominated by the natives of CHAPTER 
 
 America chapetones and gachupines, are, on account of 
 
 their unjust privileges, objects of envy to the Creoles. " The 
 Spanish laws allow the same rites to all the white inhabi* 
 tants ; but those who are entrusted with the execution 
 of the laws endeavour to destroy an equality which shocks 
 the European pride. The government, suspicious of the 
 Creoles, bestows the great places exclusively on the natives 
 of Old Spain. For some years they have disposed at Ma 
 drid even of the most trifling employments in the adminis 
 tration of the customs and the revenue of tobacco. At an 
 epoch when every thing tended to a uniform relaxation in 
 the springs of the State, the system of venality made an 
 alarming progress. For the most part it was by no means 
 a suspicious and distrustful policy : it was pecuniary interest 
 alone which bestowed all employments on Europeans. The 
 result has been a jealousy and perpetual hatred between 
 the chapetons and Creoles. The most miserable European, 
 without education, thinks himself superior to the whites 
 born in the New Continent. He knows that, protected by 
 his compatriots, and favoured by chances common enough 
 in a country where fortunes are as rapidly acquired as they 
 are lost, he may one day reach places to which the access 
 is almost interdicted to the natives, when even they are 
 distinguished for their talents, knowledge, and moral qua 
 lities. The natives prefer the denomination of Americans 
 to that of Creoles. Since the peace of Versailles, and, in 
 particular, since the year 1189, we frequently hear proudly 
 declared, ' 1 am not a Spaniard ; I am an American !' 
 words which betray the workings of a long resentment. 
 
70 MBXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER i n the eye of law every white creole is a Spaniard/'* but 
 a wrong system of practice has caused the distinction. Be 
 tween the native whites of Spain and of Mexico scarcely 
 any other difference worth notice is assignable, except that 
 the latter are said to have made lately a greater progress in 
 the knowledge of literature, notwithstanding strong en 
 deavours of the government to prevent them. 
 
 The negroes of this country are so few as to be hardly 
 worth notice. " The kingdom of New Spain is, of all the 
 European colonies under the torrid zone, that in which 
 there are the fewest negroes. We may almost say that 
 there are no slaves. We may go through the whole city 
 of Mexico without seeing a black countenance." From 
 exact information procured by the persons employed in the 
 numeration of 1793, it appears that in all New Spain, to 
 the north of Guatimala, " there are not six thousand ne 
 groes, and not more than nine or ten thousand slaves, of 
 whom the greatest number belong to the ports of Acapulco 
 and Veracruz, or the warm regions of the coast. Of the 
 seventy-four thousand negroes, annually furnished by 
 Africa to the equinoxial regions of America and Asia, not 
 above a hundred land on the coast of Mexico. The 
 slaves besides, fortunately in so small number, are here, 
 as in all the other Spanish possessions, somewhat more 
 under the protection of the laws than the negroes of 
 the other European colonies. A slave, who by his industry 
 has procured a little money, may compel his master to 
 
 Humboldt, chap. 7. 
 
MEXICO* 71 
 
 give him his liberty on paying the moderate sum of from CHAPTER 
 
 sixty-two to eighty-three pounds. Liberty cannot be re- - - - 
 
 fused to a negro on the pretext that he has cost the triple 
 of the sum., or that he possesses a particular talent for some 
 lucrative employment. A slave also who has been cruelly 
 used, acquires, on that account, his freedom by the law, 
 if the judge do justice to the cause of the oppressed : but it 
 may be easily conceived, that this beneficent law must be 
 frequenly eluded."* 
 
 The aboriginals of this country, in corporeal qualities Aboriginals, 
 and features, agree with the great mass of indigenous po 
 pulation throughout the American continent. " The In 
 dians of New Spain bear a general resemblance to those 
 who inhabit Canada, Florida, Peru, and Brazil. They 
 have the same swarthy or copper colour, flat and smooth 
 hair, coarse, dark, and so glossy as to seem to be in a con 
 stant state of humectation ; small beard ; squat body ; long 
 eye with the corners directed upwards towards the temples ; 
 prominent cheek bones ; thick lips ; and an expression of 
 gentleness in the mouth strongly contrasted with a gloomy 
 and severe look. They have a more swarthy complexion 
 than the inhabitants of the warmest climates in South Ame 
 rica. They have also, particularly the tribes of the Aztec 
 and Otomite race, generally more beard. Almost all the 
 Indians in the neighbourhood of the capital wear small 
 mustachios, and this is even a mark of the tributary cast. 
 A great physical advantage is, that they are subject almost 
 
 * Humboldt, chap. 7. 
 
72 MEXICOt 
 
 CHAPTER to no deformity. A hunch-backed Indian seems not to be 
 - ' discoverable ; and any who squint, or are lame in arm or 
 leg, are extremely rare. When we examine savage hunters 
 or warriors, we are tempted to believe that they are all 
 well made, merely because those who have any natural 
 deformity either perish from fatigue or are exposed by 
 their parents; but the Mexican and Peruvian Indians, 
 those of Quito and New Granada, are agriculturists, who 
 can only be compared withthe-class of European peasantry. 
 We can have no doubt then, that the absence of natural 
 deformities among them is the effect of their mode of life, 
 and of the constitution peculiar to their race. Accustomed 
 to a uniform nourishment of almost entirely a vegetable na 
 ture, they would undoubtedly attain a very great longevity, 
 ' if their constitutions were not weakened by drunkenness. 
 In the temperate regions of Mexico, half up the cordillera, 
 natives, especially women, of a hundred years of age, are 
 by no means uncommon ; and they are found also to re 
 tain their muscular strength to the last."* The strength 
 of those Indians, who are employed as porters in the mines 
 is doubtless extraordinary. In a hot temperature of between 
 seventy and eighty degrees of Fahrenheit, these remain 
 loaded, each with a weight of from two hundred and forty- 
 two to three hundred and seventy-seven pounds, six hours 
 every day, during which they ascend and descend several 
 thousands of steps, in pits of such acclivity, that the angle 
 of the inclined plain is only of forty-five degrees, the ascent 
 of which is to Europeans, without any sort of burden, op 
 pressively fatiguing, f 
 
 * HumUoldt, chap. 6. f HumboJdt, chap, 1 1. 
 
MEXICO. 73 
 
 The languages of the aboriginals are various, and many CHAPTER 
 
 of them radically different one from another. The Maya ' 
 
 tongue, spoken in the northern parts of Yucatan, is remark 
 able for its extremely guttural pronunciation. The Aztic, 
 which is of all the most extensively diffused, and doubtless 
 the most cultivated, is not very smooth or sonorous, but 
 copious and expressive. It is destitute of the sounds of the 
 letters B, D, F, G, and R. It was read from right to left, 
 and from bottom to top.* It is remarkable for its final 
 syllables, expressive of respect, occasionally added, and for 
 containing many words inconveniently polysyllabic. Any 
 word, by the addition of zin or azin at the end, becomes an 
 expression of veneration in the mouth of an inferior. Of 
 the reverential affixes, and of the length of applications, 
 the term notlazomahuiztespixcatatzin, may serve as an in 
 stance, which signifies venerable priest whom I cherish as 
 my father. Many Indian families are found to bear Spanish 
 names, the names of those masters among whom the abori 
 ginals were formerly distributed ; but they seem to differ 
 little in dress from their ancestors, since even those who 
 boast themselves of noble blood go generally bare-footed, 
 and covered with a Mexican tunic of a coarse texture and 
 of a dark brown hue. Concerning the mental qualities and 
 natural disposition of a people so miserably degraded by 
 Spanish tyranny very little can be known. Considering 
 " the Mexican Indian in his actual state, we perceive in 
 him neither that mobility of sensation, gesture., or feature, 
 nor that activity of mind, for which several nations of the 
 
 * Humboldt's Researches, vol. 2. p. 1*50. 
 & 
 
74 MEXICO. 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER equinoxial regions of Africa are so advantageously distinr- 
 
 guished. There cannot exist a more marked contrast than 
 
 that which is between the impetuous vivacity of the Con- 
 goeze negro and the apparent phlegm of the Indian. The 
 latter is grave, melancholic, and silent, so long as he is not 
 under the influence of intoxicating liquors. This gravity 
 is particularly remarkable in the Indian children, who, at 
 the age of four or five years, display much more intelligence 
 and maturity than white children. The Mexican loves to 
 throw a mysterious air over the most indifferent actions. 
 The most violent passions are never painted in his features ; 
 and there is something frightful in seeing him pass all at 
 once from absolute repose to a state of violent and unres 
 trained agitation. The music and dancing of this people 
 partake of this want of gaiety by which they are character 
 ized. Their songs are terrific and melancholic. The wo 
 man shew more vivacity ; but they share the misfortunes of 
 that servitude to which their sex is condemned among men 
 whose civilization is in its infancy." 
 
 As the Mexican Indians are almost all of the class of 
 peasantry, or of a similarly low condition, to judge of their 
 aptitude for the arts which embellish life is riot very easy. 
 No men of any race appear more destitute of imagination. 
 " When an Indian attains a certain degree of civilization, he 
 displays a great facility of apprehension, a judicious mind, 
 a natural logic, and a particular disposition to subtilize, or 
 seize the finest differences in the comparison of objects. 
 He reasons coolly and orderly, but he never manifests that 
 versatility of imagination, that glow of sentiment, and that 
 
MEXICO. 75 
 
 I 
 
 creative and animating art, which characterize the nations CHAPTER 
 
 of the south of Europe, and several tribes of African ne- 1 
 
 groes." To rise however to any considerable degree in the 
 scale of society must be the lot of- extremely few. " How 
 can any great change take place among them, when they 
 are kept insulated in villages, in which the whites dare not 
 settle ; when the difference of language places an almost 
 insurmountable barrier between them and the Europeans ; 
 when they are oppressed by magistrates chosen from poli 
 tical considerations from their own number ; and, in short, 
 when they can only expect moral and civil improvement 
 from their priest, a man who talks to them of mysteries, 
 dogmas, and ceremonies, of the end of which they are 
 ignorant ?" 
 
 tc Accustomed to a long slavery, the natives of Mexico 
 patiently suffer the vexations to which they are frequently 
 exposed from the whites. They oppose to them only a 
 cunning, veiled under the most deceitful appearances of 
 apathy and stupidity. As the Indian can very rarely revenge 
 himself on the Spaniards, he delights in making a common 
 cause with them for the oppression of his own compa 
 triots. Harassed for ages, and compelled to a blind obe 
 dience, he wishes to tyrannize in his turn. Oppression 
 every where produces the same effects. It every where 
 corrupts the morals. ' ' Among the vices of a degraded race 
 that of drunkenness may be well expected. " This is most 
 common among those Indians who inhabit the valley of 
 Mexico and the environs of Puebla and Tlascala, wherever 
 the agave is cultivated on a great scale. The police in the 
 
 it 9 
 
 n. A 
 
76 MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER city of Mexico sends round tumbrils to collect such drunk- 
 
 i. 
 ~~ ards as may be found stretched in the streets. These 
 
 are carried to the principal guard -house. In the morn 
 ing 1 iron rings are put round their ancles, and they are 
 obliged to clean the streets during three days. They are 
 dismissed on the fourth ; but many of them are apt to be 
 found again in the course of the week." Litlle energy 
 can have place among people so debased. When any 
 appears, it degenerates into harshness. This is displayed 
 chiefly " by the inhabitants of TIascala. Amid their present 
 degradation, the descendants of those republicans are still 
 to be distinguished by a certain haughtiness of character, 
 inspired by the memory of the ancient grandeur of their 
 state." In their degenerate condition the " Mexicans have 
 still preserved a particular relish for painting, and for the 
 art of carving in wood or stone. We are astonished at 
 what they are able to execute with a bad knife on the 
 hardest wood. In painting they display great aptitude in 
 the arts of imitation, and much greater still for the purely 
 mechanical arts. This cannot fail of becoming some day 
 very valuable, when the manufactures shall take their 
 flight to a country where a regenerating government re 
 mains yet to be created."* They have also preserved an 
 extraordinary taste for flowers, with a fresh collection 
 of which their traders ornament their shops, or places of 
 sale, every day. 
 
 The account given above relates only to the aboriginals 
 subject to the Spanish Government. Concerning the few. 
 
 * Chap. 6. 
 
MEXICO. 77 
 
 who still retain their independence in separated tracts, no- CHAPTER 
 thing further is known than that they are savages like the ' 
 
 wild tribes of North America, except a particular clan on 
 the coast of Honduras, denominated Musquitoes. This" 
 little nation, which cannot muster more than fifteen hun 
 dred, or at most two thousand men able to bear arms, has 
 an accidental tincture of negro blood, from the wreck of a 
 ship carrying African slaves, of whom several females 
 escaped to land. Detesting the Spaniards, from whose set 
 tlements they are separated by a ridge of lofty mountains, 
 a part of the Andes, they have long maintained an alliance 
 with the English, and have among them a tradition, that 
 the people with grey eyes are to be their protectors from 
 slavery. From this connexion, they have acquired a com 
 paratively considerable degree of civilization ; though both 
 sexes in general wear no other clothing than a small kind 
 of wrapper, which reaches from the lower part of the waist 
 to the middle of the thigh : but, on extraordinary occasions, 
 their chiefs appear clothed in British regimentals, and bear 
 titles of military commissions. Their government is a mo 
 narchy absolute and strictly hereditary. By their superior 
 state of polity they keep under tribute, which is paid annu 
 ally in cattle, two contiguous tribes, the Foyers and Towcas, 
 each more numerous than themselves, and accounted also 
 braver. They appear to possess a state of happiness supe 
 rior to that of most aboriginal Mexicans, and enjoy a plenty 
 
 of food : but, from the nature of their coast, which admits 
 
 . \ 
 
 no vessels of any considerable size, nor indeed even small 
 craft without danger, they have very little commerce.* The 
 
 * Henderson, p. 177 191. 
 
78 
 
 MExrco. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 T 
 
 English Settle. 
 
 nient. 
 
 English settlement in Yucatan has been sometimes an- 
 noyed by predatory bands of savages, who issued from 
 unknown recesses in the forests. These made their ap 
 pearance in a state of total nudity, and with a most ferocious 
 disposition. They were armed with bows of a curious 
 workmanship, the arrows of which were supposed to be 
 poisoned.* 
 
 The only European settlement, except those of the Spa 
 niards, which is retained in the Mexican regions, is that of 
 the English, in the bay of Honduras, on the coast of Yuca 
 tan, formed solely for the cutting and exportation of maho 
 gany and logwood. This settlement is small, computed to 
 contain, in the beginning of the nineteenth century, only 
 about two hundred white people, five hundred of a mixed 
 breed and free negroes, and three thousand negro slaves. 
 The last are considered as so attached to their masters, 
 from a humane treatment, as truly politic as it is uncom 
 mon, that they are all entrusted with the use of arms, and are 
 excellent marksmen. On this depends, in no small part, the 
 safety of the colony, which is so parted from the Spanish posts 
 by swamps and impenetrable woods, as to be exposed to an 
 attack only from the sea. By a shameful concession of the 
 British cabinet, in a treaty concluded in 1763, the fortifica 
 tions were demolished, and the colonists put under the 
 protection of the King of Spain, who pledged his faith that, 
 in case of war, they should be allowed six months, after 
 notice, for the removal of their persons and effects. This 
 promise was as shamefully violated in 1779, when, without 
 
 * Henderson, p. 18. 
 
MEXICO. 79 
 
 the least previous notice,, their properties were seized, and CHAPTER 
 their persons transported to Cuba, imprisoned, and treated ' 
 
 otherwise with cruelty. Restored to their possessions in 
 1784, by a new convention, they took more effectual mea 
 sures for defence, insomuch that they repelled a formidable 
 invading force in 1798. Their dwellings are seated on the 
 banks of rivers, down which the timber is floated to the 
 place of embarcation. The chief of these rivers is the 
 Balize, which is navigable through a space of two hundred 
 miles, for all the purposes required by the settlers. At its 
 mouth stands the town of Balize, the only regular esta 
 blishment, quite open to the sea, and consisting of about 
 two hundred houses of all descriptions. These are built 
 entirely of wood, generally raised eight or ten feet from the 
 ground on pillars of mahogany, mostly covered with shin 
 gles, but some still thatched with the leaves of the pal 
 metto.* 
 
 * Henderson. 
 
81 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEW MEXICO. 
 
 > 
 
 Site Division Coast Face Waters Air Products 
 Antiquities Inhabitants Towns. 
 
 A REGION of great, but as yet undefined extent, is here CHAPTER 
 conceived to occupy all that vast space which lies between 
 
 Louisiana, the Californian gulf, the Pacific ocean, North- sitc * 
 western America, and Old Mexico or New Spain. From 
 the last we consider it as parted only by an imaginary line 
 drawn from the northwestern angle of the gulf of Mexico 
 to the most southern part of the gulf of California. Except 
 where the latter gulf and the ocean bound it, its limits are 
 elsewhere quite uncertain. On the side of northwestern 
 America we cannot even conjecure where the wilds of the 
 two regions mutually terminate. On the side of Louisiana 
 the position of the bounding line depends on future events. 
 The Spaniards, to whom New Mexico has hitherto be 
 longed, consider this country as extending as far to the east 
 as the river Mermentas or Mexicaua, which fUftvs into the ' 
 
NEW MEXICO, 
 
 CHAPTER 
 II. 
 
 Division, 
 
 Coast. 
 
 Face. 
 
 gulf of Mexico to theeast of the river Sabina; \vhilethe anglo- 
 Americans, in possession of Louisiana, would contract the 
 Spanish dominion within the great river called Rio Bravo 
 del Norte, willing to extend their own settlements so far 
 westward as that stream. Taken in the sense noted above, 
 New Mexico contains great part of what are called the 
 intendancies of San Luis de Potosi and Durango or New 
 Biscay, together with those of New Mexico properly so 
 called, New California, or, as it was denominated by the 
 famous Drake, New Albion, and Sonora, including Cin- 
 aloa. These intendancies or governments, subordinate to 
 the viceroyalty of Old Mexico, are considered as subdi 
 vided into a number of inferior provinces or territories, the 
 limits of which are not permanently settled and a catalogue 
 of whose names seems hardly worth attention. 
 
 The coasts of this country have not been well explored : 
 at least no accurate accounts of them have been received. 
 That which is washed by the gulf of California doubtless 
 presents many receptaclesfor shipping, butfewof them are no- 
 ticed or named, and none described. That which is washed 
 by the Pacific ocean has several ports which seem to be 
 good. One, that of San Francisco, has been noted as ex 
 cellent. In its coast on the side of the gulf of Mexico, the 
 extent of which coast is as uncertain as the eastern limit of 
 this region, no harbour has been found, except for small 
 vessels which can swim in shallow water. From the coasts 
 the land rises north-eastward and north-westward to the 
 interior country, the middle parts of which consist of moun 
 tainous tracts and high table-ground. This table-ground 
 
NEW MEXICO. 
 
 is a continuation of that of Old Mexico., which advances, CHAPTER 
 though with inferior height, northward through this region, - 
 yet rising higher in approaching the north; and attaining its 
 greatest elevation in the mountains of Sierra Verde, about 
 the fortieth degree of latitude, the ridges of which extend still 
 further toward the north. To the east and west of the ele 
 vated interior country the lands are generally low, but 
 much more on the eastern side, where are plains of vast ex 
 tent. Great part of these plains are what are called Savan 
 nahs, destitute of trees, but covered with various grasses. 
 Of such consists all the eastern part of the country next 
 Louisiana, a vast extent from north to south, which termi 
 nates southward in impassible marshes. Although the 
 country along the Californian gulf is low, it is diversified 
 with hills, which increase in number and elevation as they 
 recede from the coast. New Albion presents a different 
 face, traversed from north to south, at no great distance 
 from its shores, by a continuation of that vast ridge of 
 mountains which extends along the coast of North-western 
 America. The scenery throughout the vast region of New 
 Mexico is almost as wild, as the country is uninhabited ex 
 cept in scattered spots. As the land is generally fertile, 
 and the sky serene, the prospect is mostly pleasing, but 
 some tracts are arid, and by nature barren. Thus a desarr, 
 destitute of water, extends about ninety miles between the 
 intendancies of Durango and New Mexico properly so 
 called, and thus also the northern part of Sonora is sandy 
 and dry.* 
 
 * Humboldt's New Spain, vol. 2, chap. 8. Vancouver's Voyage, vol. 4> 
 chap. 8, &c. 
 
 L 2 
 
NEW MEXICO* 
 
 CHAPTER 
 II. 
 
 Waters. 
 
 Air. 
 
 Concerning the lakes and rivers of this as yet imperfectly 
 explored region we have little to say. Of the former we 
 have no certain account. Two have been noticed in the 
 western parts, a salt lake about the thirty-ninth degree of 
 latitude, the western limits of which are unknown, and the 
 lake of Timpanogos, about the forty -first degree, of great 
 but unascertained extent. The chief of the rivers is that 
 which is named by the Spaniards Rio Bravo, Rio Grande del 
 Norte, the great river of the North, which, from its source in 
 the Sierra Verde, runs above a thousand miles to its influx 
 into the gulf of Mexico, with a very muddy stream, a stream^ 
 which, from the melting of the snow, begins to swell in 
 April, attains its greatest height in the beginning of May, 
 and sinks again toward the end of June. The Rio Colo 
 rado, springing from the same chain of mountains, flows 
 south-westward above six hundred miles to the northern 
 angle of the Californian gulf. Another Rio Colorado, dis 
 tinguished by the epithet of de Texas, is one of the many 
 streams which flow southward into the gulf of Mexico. 
 The Rio Gila has a westerly course to the angle of the 
 Californian gulf into which the Colorado makes its influx. 
 
 A scantiness of streams of water and of rain seems the 
 chief inconvenience of this otherwise in general very fine 
 country. The season of rains appears to be from Decem 
 ber to March. Little falls in the other months, particularly 
 in the autumnal, in which a dry season seems mostly to 
 prevail. Heavy dews supply in some degree the deficiency 
 of rain, and in New Albion at least a haze, or kind of fog, 
 which very frequently obscures the sky, promotes by ite 
 
NEW MEXICO. 
 
 moisture vegetation. The temperature must vary with the 
 circumstances of the land, particularly its height above the 
 ocean's level. In the low lands of New Albion the weather 
 is so mild that the inhabitants enjoy a perpetual spring, at 
 least as far as the thirty-sixth degree of latitude ; while in 
 the elevated table-grounds of the province of New Mexico 
 properly so called, the winter is so severe, that the Rio del 
 Norte, at the thirty-seventh degree, is sometimes, for a suc 
 cession of years, frozen so hard as to admit the passage 
 over it of horses and carriages. Even in the low lands in 
 the eastern parts, although the heat is violent in summer, 
 the cold of winter is rendered severe by sharp winds from 
 the north. The sky throughout the whole is in general 
 serene/ little troubled by storms or violent changes of 
 weather, and the air is accounted uncommonly salubrious 
 to the human constitution.* 
 
 Among the indigenous vegetables of this country, spon 
 taneously produced, are oak, cherry tree, and many other 
 species of timber, gooseberries, raspberries, currants, and 
 various other berries, roses, wild peas, and wild vines, which 
 bear a sour kind of grape. The grain, fruits, and roots of 
 Europe, so far as they have been imported and tried, thrive 
 excellently in its fertile soil. Thus in New Albion, wheat 
 sown without manure, and cultivated in a very clumsy man 
 ner, yields thirty, or at least twenty-five fold.f European 
 quadrupeds have also been introduced and thrive well, par- 
 
 * Humboldt, book 3, chap. 8. Vancouver's Voyage, in various places. 
 t Vancouver, book 3, chap. 1. 
 
 85 
 
 CHAPTER 
 II. 
 
 Products* 
 
NEW MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 II. 
 
 Antiquities. 
 
 ticularly horses. Among 1 the indigenous animals is a kind 
 of wild goat, or chamois on the mountains, and also a gi 
 gantic and beautiful stag, of a brown colour, smooth, and 
 destitute of spots, the branches of whose horns are near 
 four feet and a half in length. These, which are very 
 numerous in the plains, are frequently taken by the Spanish 
 colonists on horseback with nooses, or are shot by the na 
 tives, who approach them by the stratagem of putting stags' 
 heads over their own, and concealing their bodies in brush 
 wood or long herbage.* In products of the fossil kind this 
 country, so far as trials have been made, may be accounted 
 rich. Gold is found in great quantities in the province of 
 Sonora, particularly in the hilly tract named Pimeria-alta, 
 and might be found in still greater, if searchers were not 
 deterred by the incursions of warlike savages. This metal 
 is obtained by washing away sand or earth in the ravines 
 and alluvious ground. Pieces of pure gold called pepitas 
 have been thus procured of the weight of from five to six 
 pounds. f 
 
 Of the history of this country we have no certain infor 
 mation previously to the arrival of the Spaniards, who 
 began to plant some small colonies in it soon after their 
 conquest of Old Mexico ; but that some parts of it were 
 once inhabited by a people advanced above savage life to 
 some degree of civilization, monuments still extant shew. 
 The chief of these monuments is found in a vast and beau 
 tiful plain, which lies one league from the southern bank of 
 
 * Humboldt, book 3, chap. 8. t Idem, book 4, chap, 11. 
 
NEW MEXICO, 
 
 87 
 
 the Rio Gila, where stand the ruins of an ancient city, sup- CHAPTER 
 
 posed to have been inhabited by the Aztecs in their progress 
 
 toward the south. In the middle of these ruins, which 
 occupy more than a square league, is seen the remnant of 
 an edifice called casa grande, four hundred and forty-five 
 feet long, two hundred and seventy -six broad, with walls 
 almost four feet thick, built of great blocks of clay, pre 
 viously rammed into cases, and thus rendered hard and 
 durable. This ancient structure, the four sides of which 
 face exactly the four cardinal points, is observed to have 
 had three stories, a terrace, and stairs outside, probably of 
 wood, as is at present the fashion of some independent 
 tribes of natives of this country, and three apartments, each 
 above twenty-seven feet long, almost eleven broad, and 
 near twelve in height. The plain around is in great part 
 covered with broken pitchers and pots of earthenware, pret 
 tily painted in white, red, and blue, intermixed with pieces 
 of obsidian, used in cutting instruments.* Whether art had 
 any share in the production of a very curious object, near 
 the river Monterry in New Albion, seems a little doubtful. 
 Here the side of a hill or mountain is so excavated as to 
 exhibit the appearance of a vast and sumptuous building 
 in a state of decay, the roof of which is the top of the hill, 
 supported by columns of great magnitude, elegantly formed., 
 and rising perpendicularly with the most minute mathe 
 matical exactness, f 
 
 The inhabitants of this country, as yet extremely few in inhabitants. 
 proportion to its vast extent, consist mostly of Spanish co- 
 
 * Humboldt, book 3 ? chap. 8. t Vancouter, book 6, chap, 2. 
 
S8 SEW MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER lonists and indigenous tribes. The former dwell in towns 
 
 -* and scattered settlements at great distances asunder. Of 
 
 the settlements some are presidios, which are only garrisons 
 whh a few soldiers in each, for defence against the hostili- 
 s ties of the independent natives. Others are called missions, 
 
 in each of which a few monks are stationed for the purpose 
 of endeavouring to convert and civilize the wild tribes in 
 their neighbourhood. Their success appears to have been 
 hitherto only partial and slow. The colonists who are most 
 exposed to the attacks of the savages are said., from their 
 habits of vigilance and activity, to be superior in the ener 
 gies both of body and mind to all other people of Spanish 
 descent in the American regions. The indigenous people 
 consist of various tribes, some agricultural and pacific, some 
 pastoral, and some venatic and quite savage. The indi 
 genous who inhabit the plains to the south of the Rio Gila, 
 and have had no intercourse with the Spanish colonists, 
 were found clothed and considerably civilized, peaceable, 
 collected in villages, and cultivating the soil with maize, 
 cotton, and gourds. Also to the north of the Gi!a, between 
 it and the Colorado, dwell settled people called Moqui In 
 dians, among whom was found a town with regular streets 
 parallel to one another, two great squares, and houses of 
 several stories, built in the manner of the casas grandes, 
 one of which I have mentioned under the head of antiqui 
 ties, several tribes of the indigenous, particularly of the 
 people called Apaches, dwell infixed habitations, in a state 
 of peace with the colonists. The pastoral and venatic tribes 
 are not clearly distinguished. They are both erratic, deno 
 minated by the Spaniards Indios bra\ m os f and implacable 
 
MEXICO, 
 
 89 
 
 enemies to the Spanish race. They inhabit chiefly the 
 extensive wilds of the north and east. The tribes of the 
 Cumanches are uncommonly formidable. These have 
 learned to tame the horses of. Spanish breed, which run 
 wild in the Savannahs, and are said lo be cxeeded by no 
 people whatsoever in the agility of horsemanship. They 
 lo Ige in tents of buffaloes' hides, which are carried from 
 place to place on the backs of great dogs, by which they are 
 accompanied.* The savages in the southern parts of New 
 Albion are so excessively stupid and lazy, that, not without 
 the utmost difficulty, have the monks, established in the 
 several missions, been able to induce a few to adopt a life 
 of industry and civilization. 
 
 We find no towns of great magnitude in New Mexico, 
 since the country is as yet very thinly colonized. The most 
 populous noted in a survey of it is Culiacan in Sonora, 
 which is estimated to contain almost eleven thousand souls. 
 The numbers in the other towns are rated at from three or 
 four to near ten thousand. To Santa Pe, the capital of the 
 province properly called New Mexico, not more than three 
 thousand six hundred persons are attributed. In New Al 
 bion we find only villages, inhabited by such indigenous 
 people as the missionaries have been able to persuade to 
 dwell thus together under their inspection, and to cultivate 
 the soil. Par the greatest of these, when an account was 
 procured of them, contained about thirteen hundred persons 
 of all ages, under the name of Santaclara. 
 
 * Humboldt, book 2, chap. 6, book 3, chap. 8. 
 M 
 
 CHAPTER 
 II 
 
 Towns, 
 
90 
 
 CALIFORNIA, 
 
 CHAPTER A PENINSULA, stretching southeastward from the main 
 
 ~ land of New Mexico, between the Pacific ocean and the 
 
 Californian gulf, or Vermillion sea, displays on both 
 its coasts, more especially the eastern, mostly high and 
 rocky shores bordered with many islands, and broken by 
 many bays, some of them spacious, which afford in various 
 degrees accommodation for ships. It is divided longitu 
 dinally throughout by a chain of mountains, the most ele 
 vated of which, called Cerro de la Giganta, rises to the 
 height of near five thousand feet above the surface of the 
 ocean. This and some other mountains appear to have 
 had a volcanic origin. Not only these mountains, but the 
 plains also at each side, more especially the western, pre 
 sent a naked and dreary prospect, arid, bare, and barren, 
 seldom refreshed with rain, and little moistend by springs 
 or streams of water. Generally where springs are found 
 the surface of the earth consists of sand or barren rock, 
 which receives no benefit from irrigation : but in spots, 
 comparatively few, where springs and vegetative soil con 
 cur, the fertility is prodigious. The beauties of this country 
 are displayed by its atmosphere, not by its land. " Thb 
 sky is constantly serene, and of a deep blue, and without a 
 cloud ; and should any clouds appear for a moment at the 
 setting of the sun, they display the most beautiful shades 
 
CALIFORNIA, 9t 
 
 of violet, purple and green. All those who have ever CHAPTER 
 
 been in California preserved the recollection of the extra- ' - 
 
 ordinary beauty of this phenomenon, which depends on a 
 particular state of the vesicular vapour, and the purity of 
 the air in these climates."* 
 
 In so arid a region the vegetable products must be ex 
 pected to be scanty. The land is almost destitute of trees, 
 yet amid the sand and stones at the foot of the mountains 
 some species of the cactus rise to extraordinary heights. 
 The vine, where cultivated, yields an excellent grape, the 
 wine of which resembles that of the Canary islands. We 
 can easily conceive from the climate of California what 
 vegetables it might yield where soil and water are procured, 
 but the chief object of culture appears to be maize. Among 
 the indigenous quadrupeds is a wild animal on the moun 
 tains which resembles the moujlon of Sardinia, having horns 
 " curved on themselves in a spiral form/' and leaping, like 
 the ibex, with the head downward. The gulf of Califor 
 nia along its coast is more productive than the land, yield 
 ing pearls of a very beautiful water and large size, but often 
 of an irregular shape, disagreeable to the eye. They 
 abound much more in the southern than in the northern 
 parts of the gulf, particularly in the bay of Ceralyo, and 
 around the islands of Santa Cruz and San Jose. This 
 branch of industry however has been of late years so ne 
 glected, that it is considered as almost or altogether 
 abandoned. 
 
 Humboldt, book 3, chap. 8. 
 N 2 
 
% CALIFORNIA. 
 
 CHAPTER California was discovered in 1534, by Hernando de Grix- 
 ii. 
 
 ' alva, in the employment of Cortes, the conqueror of Mex 
 ico, who visited in person the country in the following 
 year, and afterwards commissioned, for the completion 
 of the survey, Francisco de Ulloa, who ascertained this 
 region to be a peninsula. In 1683, the Jesuits began to 
 establish missions for the conversion of the natives, arid 
 " displayed there that commercial industry, and that acti 
 vity, to which they are indebted for so many successes, and 
 which have exposed them to so many calumnies in both 
 Indies/' In the middle of the eighteenth century their af 
 fairs were prosperous. They had in very few years built 
 sixteen villages in the interior of the peninsula, and their 
 settlements were become considerable. Since their expul 
 sion in 1767, the Spanish government has confided Califor 
 nia to the Dominican monks of the city of Mexico, under 
 whom the state of affairs seems much altered for the worse. 
 
 California is so thinly peopled as to be almost a desart. 
 Its length is about seven hundred miles. Its unascertained 
 breadth may be on an average nearly one hundred. Its 
 area may thus con-tain near sixty millions of English acres, 
 or may be nearly three times as great as that of Ireland. 
 The number of people in all this extent of territory seems 
 not to exceed nine thousand. The Spaniards are few, con 
 sisting only of some soldiers and monks. The indigenous 
 people, who are so far reclaimed from a savage life as to 
 dwell in fixed habitations and cultivate the soil, are reckoned 
 only at between four and five thousand. Of those who still 
 remain savage the number is said scarcely to amount to 
 
CALIFORNIA. 93 
 
 four thousand. The country was formerly far less thinly 
 inhabited, but a great depopulation, within thirty or forty 
 years past, has been caused by the small pox, and perhaps 
 by political defects, of which we are not informed. No 
 towns can have place where people are so few. The chief 
 mission or village is that of Loreto. Those indigenous 
 Californians, who still remain in a savage state, are descri 
 bed as among the very lowest in the scale of civilization, 
 wandering about in a state of absolute nudity in search of 
 precarious food, exposed without the shelter of a roof to all 
 the vicissitudes of the atmosphere, and destitute of other 
 religion than the dread of invisible malignant beings, whose 
 malice they deprecate. They are rather of a small and 
 feeble frame, with little vigour of spirit, and of a very dark 
 complexion, approaching to black. They entertain such 
 a contempt of clothing, that a man in clothes appears more 
 ridiculous to them than a monkey with garments to the 
 common people of Europe.* 
 
 * Humboldf, book 3, chap. 8. Account of California by Venegas, &c. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 Site Coast Face Waters Temperature Vegetables 
 Animals Fossils History Commerce Inhabitants 
 Eskeemoes Occidentals Person Habits Language 
 Houses Life Manners Interior Aboriginals Persons 
 Habits Language Habitations Food Religion 
 Government Tribes Depopulation Life Manners 
 Customs Arts. 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 
 
 HERE considered, for geographical convenience, as that CHAPTER 
 immense continuous portion of the northern peninsula of tn * 
 
 the new continent which remains as yet uncolonized by site. 
 Europeans, and free from the dominion of any civilized 
 nation, consists of the whole extent of territory which lies 
 between the gulf or sea of Hudson, the Pacific ocean, the 
 Arctic ocean or Icy sea, and the boundaries of Canada and 
 New Mexico. These boundaries indeed are not as yet per 
 manently settled, nor can we at present form a rational con 
 jecture how soon such alterations shall have been made, by 
 the planting of colonies, as may render a new geographical 
 
96 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMtERiCA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 HI. 
 
 Coast. 
 
 Face. 
 
 account of this vast region necessary. The eastern coast of 
 this immense tract, except along the seas of Hudson and 
 Davis, where it is in general rocky and steep, though af 
 fording many receptacles for shipping, is quite unknown. 
 The same is the case with the whole of the northern. The 
 western, parted from Tartary by Beering's strait, is bordered 
 in an extraordinary manner by innumerable islands, is in 
 dented by numerous inlets, which form harbours various in 
 magnitude and quality, and consists in great proportion of 
 high table-ground, which constitutes part of the base of an 
 immense chain of mountains. Of the various projections of 
 the land that which runs farthest into the Pacific is the 
 peninsula of Alaska. Of the multitude of inlets, that which 
 penetrates nearest to the great inland waters is Lynn chan 
 nel, near the latitude of fifty-nine, which advances within 
 three hundred and seventy English miles of the great Atha- 
 baska or Slave lake, from which, however, it is separated 
 by a vast chain of mountains. Of the masses of rock, vari 
 ous in size and figure, which, along this extensive coast, 
 repel or break the waves of the ocean, some display to ma 
 riners a romantic appearance. Of these, one, resembling a 
 ship under sail, stands insulated near the middle of a chan 
 nel, beyond the fifty-fifth degree of latitude, above two 
 hundred and fifty feet in perpendicular height.* 
 
 This immense region, so far as information concerning it 
 has been collected, consists in general of wide-spread plains, 
 
 * Vancouver's Voyage round the World, 8vo. London, 1801, vol.4, 
 p. 160. For the coast in general, see various parts of the 4th, 5th and 6th 
 volumes , aho Cooke's 3d Vuj age, Perouse, &c. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 97 
 
 >yhich gradually rise to a great elevation in the interior, CH\PTER 
 
 and are traversed in the western parts by a prodigious chain * 
 
 of mountains, and elsewhere, more especially, in the southern 
 parts, by some ridges of inferior magnitude. The western 
 chain, apparently connected with the Andes of South Ame 
 rica, may perhaps be justly denominated the Andes of the 
 North, though by travellers it has been named the Shining 
 and the Stony mountains, from the appearances displayed 
 by it in several places. In its progress northward, this vast 
 ridge elevates its peaks to a stupendous height, and takes a 
 north-westerly direction, parellel to the coast of the Pacific, 
 from which ocean its range of summits, cased with perpe 
 tual ice and snow, is visible to mariners, through a far ex 
 tended course of navigation, and to which some lateral 
 , chains, and branches extending from the main ridge, make, 
 in several places, a near approach. It presents to the eye a 
 grand and magnificent prospect, but cold and savage, of 
 snow, glaciers, and naked rocks, rugged, precipitous, and 
 stupendously high. Between the river Columbia and Cook's 
 inlet it attains its greatest elevation and greatest breadth, a 
 breadth of from about two hundred and sixty to between, 
 three and four hundred miles, and is bordered along the 
 eastern skirts by a narrow and uneven strip of quite marshy 
 or boggy ground. Pursuing still a north-westerly course, 
 but, from Cook's inlet, with apparently diminished size, it 
 terminates at length, about the seventieth degree of lati 
 tude in the Arctic ocean.* 
 
 * Mackenzie's Travels, 4to. London, 1801, p. 401402. Vancouver, 
 vol. 6, p. 27, 411, &c. &c, 
 
 N 
 
98 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA* 
 
 CHAPTER A ridge of much inferior height, but of prodigious length, 
 
 ' extends from Labrador, between the waters of Hudson's 
 
 gulf and those of the Saint Lawrence river, in a nearly 
 south-westerly course, to the sources of the river Utawas. 
 Thence it turns north-westward to the longitude of eighty- 
 nine degrees and the latitude of fifty, where it forks, and 
 sends a branch to the south-west, while -the main ridge 
 pursues a north-westerly direction, to the north of lake 
 Winnipig, whence it winds westward between the rivers 
 Beaver and Saskatshawin, till it strikes a long ridge which 
 stretches north eastward. The latter, parting the waters 
 which fall into Hudson's gulf from those which flow to the 
 Arctic ocean, takes a direction almost to the north beyond 
 the latitude of fifty-seven, and throws a branch to the west, 
 which terminates at Mackenzie's river. 
 
 That part of this vast region, which lies between the 
 Andes of the North and the Pacific ocean, is mostly moun 
 tainous and ruggid. To the east of this chain vast plains 
 expand, widening as they advance toward the east and south. 
 The northern parts which stretch eastward from these 
 mountains, dreary, cold, and inhospitable, destitute of trees, 
 except some dwarfish kinds, abounding in rocks and water, 
 and shelving to the Icy sea, bear a strong resemblance to 
 the Asiatic region of Siberia. Even farther toward the 
 south the Savannahs, or grassy plains, are considerably 
 like the Tartarian Steppes, or desarts of Northern Asia ; 
 while the Northern Andes, in respect of position, may bear 
 some similitude to the Uralian chain. In the southern 
 parts the wild scenery, the only kind which can have place 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA* 
 
 in regions void of culture, lias been found highly beautiful. 
 A celebrated traveller enjoyed in September " a most ex 
 tensive romantic, and ravishing prospect ;" and again he 
 thus speaks of what he saw in May.* " This magnificent 
 theatre of nature has all the decorations which the trees and 
 animals of the country can offord it. Groves of poplars in 
 every shape vary the scene., and their intervals are enlivened 
 with vast herds of elks and buffaloes ; the former choosing 
 the steeps and uplands ; the latter the plains. The whole 
 country displayed an exuberant verdure. The trees which 
 bear a blossom were advancing fast to that delightful appear 
 ance ; and the velvet rind of their branches, reflecting the 
 oblique rays of a rising or setting sun, added a splendid 
 gaiety to the scene which no expressions of mine are quali 
 fied to describe." 
 
 Beside the vast lakes and rivers of the immense northern 
 peninsula of America already noted in the general view, 
 many of no inconsiderable magnitude belong to this north 
 western region, of which however very few are more than 
 very partially known to Europeans. To attempt to describe 
 them would as yet be premature. Such is their number 
 and communication, that canoes can be navigated in all di 
 rections, through thousands of miles, except short inter 
 ruptions at places called portages, where, on account of 
 cataracts, or other impediments, the canoe and its cargo 
 must be carried from one navigable part of the channel to 
 
 * Mackenzie, p. 155. See also Lewis and Clarke's Travels, 4to. Lon 
 don, 1814, p. 40, 52, 390, 556, &c. 
 
 R 2 
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 Waters. 
 

 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III, 
 
 Temperature* 
 
 another, or from one river to another. Among the streams 
 which run eastward is the Saskatchawin, which, arising 
 from the northern Andes, falls into the great lake of Win- 
 nipig, whence it issues, under the name of Nelson river, 
 and disembogues into the gulf of Labrador, after a course of 
 about a thousand miles. Among those which flow north 
 ward is the Unjiga or Peace river, which, originating from 
 a western lateral chain of these Andes, and making its way 
 through a gap in the main ridge, discharges its waters into 
 the vast bason absurdly called the Slave lake, from the 
 western angle of which it makes its egress, and pursues its 
 course, a course in all of about seventeen hundred miles, to 
 the arctic ocean, under the denomination of Mackenzie's 
 river. Among those which run to the Pacific ocean is the 
 Columbia, called also the Oregan and Tatoutche-Tessi, 
 which is said by late travellers* to be navigable by large 
 sloops through a hundred and eighty miles above its mouth, 
 and by ships of three hundred tuns through a length of a 
 hundred and twenty-five miles. That which has been deno 
 minated Cook's river has been found by Vancouver to be 
 only an inlet of the Pacific, above two hundred miles in 
 length. 
 
 Exposed to the northerly and northwesterly winds, which 
 blow with inconceivable keenness from the ice of the Arctic 
 ocean, all the northern parts of this immense region, which 
 lie to the east of the Northern Andes, sustain the utmost 
 rigours of intense cold, in the same manner as Siberia. 
 
 * Lewis and Clarke's Travels, 8?o. London, 1809, p. 19. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 The earth continues frozen throughout the whole year, 
 except that in the heats of summer it is thawed to the 
 depth of from two to four feet. The season of these heats, 
 which are indeed intense, is only of about four or five 
 weeks' duration ; but even then the changes from heat to 
 cold are great and sudden.* To the south of the long 
 ridge, which extends from Labrador southward and west 
 ward, where warm winds from the gulf of Mexico operate 
 on that part of the atmosphere, the temperature is milder, 
 and is found warmer in proportion to the advance of the 
 country southward. In the long tract contained between 
 the Northern Andes and the Pacific ocean the air is vastly 
 less cold than in the parts between the same parallels to the 
 east of these mountains.f This appears to be the effect of 
 oceanic winds, from whose influence the tracts lying east 
 ward of the Northern Andes are screened by this huge 
 barrier ; while by the same, in its north-westerly direction, 
 the piercing winds from the Icy sea, may be, in great mea 
 sure, confined to the more eastern regions. 
 
 The indigenous vegetables, spontaneously produced, in 
 this immense uncultivated portion of the globe, are in great 
 variety, varied with the temperature of the air,' the nature 
 of the soil, the aspect of the ground, and other circum 
 stances ; but the species as yet distinguised by the researches 
 of Europeans are comparatively very few. Toward the icy 
 shores of the north vegetation gradually languishes, ending 
 
 * Volney's View of the United States of America, 8?o. London, 1814 ? 
 p. 155157. 
 
 i Cook's Third Voyage, book 4, chap. 2. 
 
 101 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 Vegetables. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER in stunted and straggling pines, junipers, and moss, and 
 * leaving little beside naked rocks ami water to the view of 
 
 the traveller. Southward the herbage gradually augments, 
 and the trees encrease in size, variety, and number, till at 
 length the forests become dense and extensive. This im 
 provement of the vegetation, in a progress to the south, has 
 place far earlier, or far nearer the north, on the coast of the 
 Pacific ocean than on the eastern side of the Northern 
 Andes, from the superior warmth of the air on that coast. 
 Among the trees of the forest are several species of the 
 pine, many of which grow to such magnitude as to be twenty 
 or thirty feet in girth, and of a height proportionate, some 
 times of above two hundred feet. The cedar also, often 
 of still larger dimensions, covers some tracts of considerable 
 extent. The alder forms beautiful woods in some places, 
 with a trunk seven or eight or more feet in circumference, 
 and forty in height between the ground and lowest branches. 
 The inner rind of some species, particularly that which is 
 called the hemlock tree, is used as food, on occasions of 
 scarcity, by the savages. Wild berries of various kinds 
 are produced in abundance, in places adapted severally to 
 their growth. Among these are gooseberries, currants, 
 cherries, raspberries, cranberries, and strawberries. The 
 rosebush also flourishes copiously in many tracts. Among 
 the wild plants are flax, the parsnip, the carrot, the liquorice, 
 wild rye, and that which is termed by botanists zizania 
 aquatica, and by travellers wild rice. This appears to be 
 a species of grass, bearing farinaceous seeds which resem 
 ble rice. Growing in vast quantities in shallow streams of 
 water, in tracts where the cold is too severe for the pro- 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 103 
 
 duction of European corn, this plant, which now serves to 
 feed savages and wild fowl, may become in future times au 
 object of human culture. 
 
 All the quadrupeds of this immense region, so far as we 
 are informed, appear to be as yet indigenous, except the 
 horse, which has been lately introduced into the southern 
 parts by the Indians, who steal considerable numbers from 
 the Spanish colonists of New Mexico. Among the indi 
 genous animals are two species of the Vaccine tribe, the 
 bison and the musk ox, which differ greatly in size, but 
 are humped both at the shoulders, are clothed, at the roots 
 of their long hair, with fine wool fit to be manufactured 
 into cloth, and smell both of musk, but the latter sort more 
 strongly, insomuch that its heart is on this account not 
 edible. The bison, termed also the buffalo and the Ameri 
 can ox, grows to such a size as to weigh from sixteen hun 
 dred to two thousand four hundred pounds. Prom its long 
 flocks of reddish hair, depending from the head and shoul 
 ders, the bull displays a tremendous aspect, but is extremely 
 timid, unless it be wounded, when it becomes dangerously 
 fierce. These animals migrate in vast herds from north to 
 south, and from the highlands to) the lowlands, and con 
 versely, according to the seasons, between the latitudes of 
 Hudson's gulf and those of the northern parts of New 
 Mexico. These and several species of the deer are so 
 numerous in the rich lands toward the south, that the coun 
 try has " the appearance, in some places of a stall-yard, from 
 the state of the ground, and the quantity of dung which is 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 III. 
 
 Animals* 
 
1(H: NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER scattered over it."* The musk ox is less tall than a deer, 
 : but larger in the body. The horns are so disproportion 
 ately large, that a pair sometimes weighs sixty pounds,, and 
 the legs are little more than a foot in length ; yet the 
 animal is nimble, and climbs rocks like a goat. The hair 
 of the female is black, but that of the male is of a dusky red, 
 extremely fine, and so long as to trail on the ground. It 
 migrates in herds of twenty or thirty; nearly as far south 
 ward as the bison, and much farther northward, even 
 beyond the latitude of seventy-two degrees.f 
 
 , Of the deer are several species. The reindeer is seen 
 moving in columns of eight or ten thousand each, in the 
 vicinity of Hudson's gulf. The stag, near five feet high, and 
 eight in length, inhabits more southern territories, separated 
 from those of the former sort almost by a line, instinctively 
 settled, as if by mutual compact. The moosedeer, of which 
 the elk seems to be a species, inhabits the latitudes of the 
 vast Canadian lakes, and thence so far southward as the 
 fortieth degree. The weight of the largest has been found 
 to be twelve hundred pounds, and the height seventeen 
 hands. With hair of a hoary brown colour, a huge head, 
 short neck, and long ears, it shews a rather deformed and 
 stupid aspect. Less than three feet measures the distance 
 between the tips of the horns of this animal, which i? cer 
 tainly not the same species with that which anciently existed 
 in Ireland, where horns of vast size are found. It is inoffen 
 sive, except in the season of amorous feelings, or when it is 
 
 * Mackenzie, p. 104. See also Lewis and Clarke, 4to. p. 652. 
 t Pennant's Arctic Zoology, vol. 1, page 812. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 105 
 
 wounded. The skin is manufactured into excellent buff. CHAPTER 
 The flesh is remarkably agreeable and nutricious, particu- 
 larly the tongue, but chiefly the nose, which is perfectly 
 marrow.* Several smaller species of deer, like those of Eu 
 rope, roam in numerous herds through the vast forests and 
 savannahs of the middle and southern parts, and in like 
 mariner the elk. 
 
 Among the various other kinds of quadrupeds in this 
 vast region are several species of the bear, white, red, black, 
 and grey, the beaver, the porcupine, the wolf, the fox of se 
 veral sorts and colours, the ground-dog, which burrows in 
 the earth, the wolvereen, which seems to be a species of 
 carnivorous bear, and several varieties of the cat, the largest 
 of which is by some called the panther, and has been found 
 six feet in the length of its body. The beaver inhabits from 
 the sixtieth to the thirtieth degree of latitude, but much more 
 toward the former. This amphibious animal, so much the 
 object of pursuit on account of its valuable fur, is known to 
 live in societies of two or three hundred together, to work in 
 common like the ant or bee, and to form assemblages of com 
 modious apartments on lakes and rivers, where it lodges, and 
 stores irs food, the branches and shoots of trees, for the 
 winter. The beaver, which weighs from forty to sixty 
 pounds, is inferior in size to the black sea-otter, the weight 
 of whose body is seventy or eighty. The fur of this qua 
 druped, which inhabits the coast of the Pacific ocean, be- 
 |ween the latitudes of forty -nine and sixty, is in such esti- 
 
 * Pennant, vol. 1, p. 18 31. 
 o 
 
J06 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 Fossils. 
 
 mation, that the skin has sold in China at the price of from 
 fourteen to twenty-five pounds. 
 
 Among the numerous tribes of the feathered race is the 
 turkey, indigenous only in the new continent, whence it 
 has been imported into the old. This bird, which, in its 
 
 wild state, grows to the weight of thirty, sometimes even 
 
 / 
 
 forty pounds, is numerous only in tracts most remote from 
 human habitation, where it is said to assemble in flocks of 
 frequently five hundred each. Aquatic fowls are in pro 
 digious numbers, particularly several species of wild geese, 
 thousands of which are taken in the vicinity of Hudson's 
 gulf. The bird which most astonishes by its numbers is a 
 species of pigeon, which breeds in the northern parts, and 
 migrates to the south at the approach of winter, much more 
 indeed in some years than in others, in flocks of many 
 millions. The varieties of the serpent are in considerable 
 number ; but the rattle snake, so denominated from the rat 
 tling of dry joints of bone at the end of its tail, is not found 
 northward of the forty-fifth degree of latitude. Various 
 other reptiles are copious in places adapted to their nature. 
 Marine animals, among which are various kinds of the seal, 
 the whale, and numerous tribes of other fish, abound along 
 the coasts. 
 
 Concerning the fossils of this part of the globe we can 
 at present say but little, as nothing beneath the surface of 
 the earth, and extremely little of the surface itself, has as 
 yet been explored ; but that it is deficient in riches of this 
 nature we have no reason to suspect. In all the northern 
 

 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 .parfs to the north of lake Winnipig, and eastward from the 
 same to the gulf of Hudson, the substratum of the soil seems 
 mostly granite, while to the west and south of this lake lie 
 vast beds of limestone, between which and the granitic 
 region are situated all the great basons of fresh water in 
 North America.* A tract in the north so abounds in cop 
 per, that a stream which flows through it to the Arctic 
 ocean, has thence been denominated the Coppermine river. 
 Vast beds of mineral salt exist in many parts, as is evinced 
 by saline wells and other tokens. For instance, westward 
 of the Unjiga river, in its approach to the Slave lake, con 
 creted salt, perfectly white and pure, may be collected in 
 any quantity, around the numerous pools and springs of 
 salt water, which appear in that tract. In other places 
 have springs been seen whose margins are covered with 
 sulphureous incrustations ; and fountains of bitumen, par 
 ticularly in territories near the Elk river, have been disco- 
 veried, into which a pole, twenty feet long, may be inserted 
 perpendicularly downward, without resistance. Stratums 
 also of coal have been found, and probably this valuable 
 fossil may be copious in many parts. 
 
 The history of this as yet uncultivated part of the earth's 
 surface is only a registry of discoveries of its coasts by na 
 vigators, and of its interior by travellers, as the history of 
 its few savage inhabitants, among whom are no records, is 
 unknown. In a search for a north-west passage to the" East 
 Indies, which continued to be an object of hope and enter- 
 
 * Mackenzie, p. 403. 
 
 107 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 History. 
 
108 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER prize till the latter part of the eighteenth century, the Eng- 
 
 ' lish, under Martin Frobisher, in the year 1576, discovered 
 
 the strait which bears his name, in the sea which was after 
 ward called the strait of Davis, from John Davis who ex 
 plored it in 1585, between Greenland and the main conti 
 nent of America. In 1610, the important discovery was 
 made by Henry Hudson of the extensive gulf called Hudson's 
 bay, the coasts of which where a trade in furs was found very 
 profitable, have since been examined by other navigators. 
 The earliest discoverers of the Western coasts were Spa 
 niards, one of whom Francisco Gali, viewed the shores of 
 the continent between the fifty-seventh and fifty-eighth de 
 grees of latitude, and admired the snowy mountains of the 
 great northern chain.* The next who attempted to explore 
 these tracts were the Russians, who had possessed them 
 selves of Siberia, the part of the old continent the nearest 
 . to the new ; but their discoveries extended not far to the 
 south. The first Russian discoverers of the American 
 coasts were Beering and Tchirikof, who sailed from Kam- 
 tchatka in 1741. From the former the channel between the 
 extremities of the two continents bears the name of the 
 strait of Beering. 
 
 The Spaniards, after an intermission of nearly a hun 
 dred and seventy years, renewed their voyages northward 
 on the American coast, not for the promoting of geographi 
 cal knowledge, but for the prevention, if possible, of any 
 
 settlements which other European nations might meditate 
 i 
 
 * Humboldt's NewSpain > 8vo. London, 1811, vol. 2, p. 360. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 109 
 
 to establish, in regions of which the Spanish crown claimed CHAPTER 
 
 exclusively the dominion. A Spanish captain, named 
 
 Juan Perez, in 1774, anchored, with his crew, on the 
 ninth of August, " the first of all European navigators, in 
 Nootka road, which they called the port of San Lorenzo, 
 and which the illustrious Cook, four years afterwards-, 
 named King George's Sound."* Cook, and his successor, 
 Captain Gore, explored the coast to the strait of Beering, 
 and beyond it as far as the permanent ice of the Arctic sea 
 permitted. Other expeditions were subsequently made by 
 Spanish officers, which, with those of the famous English 
 navigator, Vancouver, in the years 1792, 1793, arid 1794, 
 completed the survey of the north-western coast. For the 
 exploration of the interior parts a journey was performed on 
 land by Hearrie, and two voyages were accomplished along 
 lakes and rivers by Mackenzie. The former having taken 
 his departure from Churchill river, which falls into Hudson's 
 gulf, arrived, by a north- westerly course of near thirteen 
 hundred miles, in the June of 1771, at the mouth of the 
 Coppermine river, under the latitude of seventy-two de 
 grees. The latter, having embarked in a canoe, at Fort 
 Chepewyan, at the lake of the Hills, proceeded to the Slave 
 lake, and thence, by a stream called from his name Mac 
 kenzie's river, in the July of 1789, to the Arctic ocean, 
 near the seventieth degree. In his second expedition, 
 which was directed south-westward, he sailed from the same 
 fort up the Unjigah, and passed thence by a portage to the 
 Oregan, whence he arrived by land, in the July of 1793, at 
 
 * Humboldt, ?ol. 2, p. 364, 
 
no 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 lit. 
 
 Commerce. 
 
 an inlet of the Pacific ocean, about the fifty -second degree 
 of latitude, the first of all Europeans who traversed North. 
 America from the Atlantic to the opposite shores. 
 
 The voyages performed for the discovery of the coasts 
 and inlets of this immense region have led to the establish 
 ment of an extensive commerce in furs and peltry; the only 
 products of these wilds as yet considered as worthy of being 
 rendered objects of exportation. The English formed fac 
 tories on the coasts of Hudson's gulf for a traffic with the 
 savages, but in 1673 the trade was confined by patent to an 
 exclusive corporation, termed the Hudson's bay company. 
 The factories are chiefly settled on the rivers Moose, Albany, 
 Severn, Nelson, and Churchill. The French also of Ga- 
 nada, while they remained in possession of that country, 
 maintained the same commerce with the savages, and ex 
 tended it much farther. The English, since they became 
 possessors of Canada, have carried their enterprizes beyond 
 former limits, especially since the institution of a mercantile 
 association styled the north-west company, in 1783, whose 
 agents have erected factories along the Saskatshawin river, 
 and seem to be approaching the Pacific ocean. Blankets, 
 ammunition, and various manufactured articles, are given in 
 exchange to the savages for the products of the chase. The 
 goods are conveyed in canoes made of the bark of trees, 
 particularly the birch. The canoes thus are light for occa 
 sional transportation over-land, and, if easily damaged, are 
 also easily repaired. These crazy vessels are navigated 
 thousands of miles by intrepid mariners, who are wonder 
 fully patient of cold, fatigue, and hunger. At a portage 
 
111 
 
 CHAPTER 
 in. 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 the* vessel is unloaded or lightened, according to circum 
 stances, and the merchandize is carried on men's shoulders 
 to the next place of embarkation ; while the canoe is either 
 floated empty, or partly disburthened, through the rapid, 
 or carried over-land in like manner as the cargo. 
 
 The earliest traders on the western coast were the Rus 
 sians, who have formed small factories in the north-western 
 parts, as far toward the south as the fifty-ninth degree of 
 latitude, which seems to be the limit of their commercial 
 operations, or of any dominion in America which they can 
 justly claim. These indeed seem of all Europeans the best 
 adapted for an advantageous traffic in these regions, from 
 their hardy modes of life, and their trade by land with 
 China, the chief market for peltry. By the discovery of 
 Nootka sound, by the celebrated Cook, a new scene of com 
 merce was opened for furs, particularly that of the marine 
 otter ; but this trade has been ruined for a time by the com 
 petition and irregular conduct of different nations, particu 
 larly Anglo-Americans. No means are furnished for the 
 forming of a just estimate of the quantity of furs and skins 
 of the beaver, the marten, the lynx, the otter, and various 
 other quadrupeds, exported by the way of Hudson's gulf, 
 Canada, and the western ports : but we know that the 
 traders of Canada* have procured above a hundred thou 
 sand beavers' skins in the space of a year. 
 
 The inhabitants of this immense region, indigenous in inhabitant*, 
 our conception, as we have no knowledge of anterior occu- 
 
 * Mackenzie's Introduction, 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 HI. 
 
 Eskimoes. 
 
 Occidentals. 
 
 pants, may, for the convenience of giving to the reader such 
 information concerning them as can be collected, be con 
 sidered as divided into three general classes, the Eskeemoes, 
 the Occidentals, and the interior aboriginals. The Esqui 
 maux or Eskimoes, who dwell along the northern coast, 
 from Hudson's gulf and the sea of Davis to the Pacific 
 ocean, are the same with those who inhabit Labrador and 
 Greenland, in the accounts of which countries they are 
 described. Of the Occidentals, by which term are de 
 signated the inhabitants of that western region which 
 lies between the Pacific and the Northern Andes, our 
 knowledge is extremely limited. They consist of various 
 tribes or nations, which are different, in their personal 
 characteristics, from the rest of the Americans, and from 
 one another. 
 
 Persons. Of the personal conformation and complexion of the Oc 
 
 cidental Americans several partial accounts have been receiv 
 ed, but not such as enable us to form thence a general charac 
 ter which could prove satisfactory. We find that to the north 
 of the fifty-first or fifty-second degree of northern latitude 
 the hair of the inhabitants, altogether differently from that 
 of the interior aboriginals, is generally of a brown or ches- 
 nut colour, sometimes approaching to fair.* Their com 
 plexions also seem in general less dark, and some tribes are 
 found, which, in the prominence and regularity of the fea 
 tures, and fairness of the skin, bear a strong resemblance to 
 the people of northern Europe. High cheek-bones appear 
 
 * Vancouver, vol. 4, p. 105. La Perouse, vol. 3, p. 1 95. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 113 
 
 to be universally prevalent : but, instead of attempting a CHAPTER 
 
 general portrait from observations too few and scanty, the 
 
 notice of some particulars may prove less unsatisfactory to 
 the reader. 
 
 About the sixtieth degree of latitude, and to the north 
 ward of it, the people were found of a stature not exceeding 
 the common height; of a square make, or with strong chests ; 
 with heads disproportionally large ; short and thick necks ; 
 large and broadly spreading faces, inclined to flatness ; 
 eyes, though not otherwise small, yet not large in propor 
 tion to the face ; noses with full and round tips, which are 
 hooked or turned upward ; broad and white teeth, equal in 
 size, and evenly set ; black, thick, strait, and strong hair ; 
 strait beards, generally thin, but sometimes thick, and fre 
 quently of a brown colour on the lips ; and skins sometimes 
 white, without any mixture of red, but sometimes brownish 
 or swarthy.* A little to the north of the fifty-fourth degree, 
 a tribe was discovered with large eyes, European features, 
 and a skin less dark than that of the German peasants, 
 though the people dwelling around were of a different cast 
 of features and complexion. f The inhabitants of the ter 
 ritories situated about the fifty-second degree are in gene 
 ral of a middle stature, with round faces, high cheek-bones, 
 a, complexion between the olive and copper, small grey 
 eyes with a tinge of red, hair of a dark brown hue incti- 
 
 * Cook's Third Voyage, Book 4, chap. 5. 
 t Humboldt, vol. 1, p. 145. 
 
114 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 ning to black, and heads so flattened by art both before and 
 behind as to terminate above in the form of a wedge.* 
 This cuneated shape of the head continues onward to the 
 south, to the countries about the Columbia river. It is 
 caused in the time of infancy, when the skull is soft, by the 
 pressure of two boards, covered with soft leather, the one 
 applied to the frontal bone, the other to the occipital. 
 
 The people, however, who dwell to the south of the fifty- 
 first, or fiftieth degree of latitude, appear to be a race essen 
 tially different from the more northern tribes The inhabi 
 tants of the coasts about Nootka sound are described as below 
 the common stature, with fleshy or plump, but not muscu 
 lar bodies ; faces commonly round and full, sometimes also 
 broad ; high and prominent cheeks, above which the face 
 is frequently much depressed, or seemingly fallen inward, 
 quite across, between the temples ; noses flattened at the 
 base, with wide nostrils and a rounded tip ; foreheads rather 
 low ; small eyes, black, and rather: languishing than spark 
 ling ; the mouth round ; round lips somewhat thick ; teeth 
 tolerably equal and well set, but not remarkably white ; 
 hair in abundance, coarse and strong, and universally black, 
 straight, and lank ; and either thin beards or none, the ef 
 fect of eradication * The skin seems fair in its natural state. 
 The body is- rather clumsily framed, and the limbs very 
 small in proportion, crooked, with projecting ankles, and 
 large and ill shaped feet. In these deformities they agree 
 with the tribes who dwell about the lower part of the river 
 
 * Mackenzie, p. 370; t Cook's Third Voyage, Book 4, chap. 2, 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 115 
 
 Columbia. These are represented as of a diminutive sta- CHAPTER 
 
 in. 
 ttire in general, a bad shape, an unpleasing appearance, 
 
 with broad, thick, and flat feet, thick ankles, crooked legs, a 
 wide mouth, thick lips, a moderately sized nose, fleshy, 
 wide at the extremities, with large nostrils, and generally 
 low between the eyes, but, in some rare instances, high and 
 aquiline ; and with eyes generally black, but sometimes of 
 a dark yellowish brown, with a black pupil.* Their com 
 plexion is a coppery colour, but somewhat lighter than that 
 of the interior aboriginals. The deformity of the legs is 
 attributed in great measure to their mode of sitting on their 
 heels, and to tight ornamental bandages worn by the 
 females. 
 
 The custom of rendering the forehead flat, which is ope 
 rated on all persons of both sexes on the coasts, about the 
 Columbia, and thence northward through six or seven de 
 crees of latitude, diminishes eastward, so as at first to be 
 
 53 
 
 confined to females, and at length to cease entirely, to the 
 east of the northern Andes. The tribes of Shoshonees or 
 Snake Indians, who dwell at the foot of these mountains, 
 and who are supposed to have come from the eastern side, 
 and who still at certain seasons pass thither for a time, ap 
 pear not to have adopted this mode of deformation : yet 
 they might be suspected to be of a kindred race with the 
 neighbouring occidental?, since they are described as of a 
 diminutive stature, with thick flat feet and ankles, and 
 crooked legs ;f to which another account adds a crookedness 
 
 * Lewis and Clarke, p. 43G. f Lewis and Clarke, 4to. p. 311, 
 
 p 2 
 
116 
 
 CHAPTER 
 lit 
 
 Habits. 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 of body, high cheek-bones large light coloured eyes, and 
 such meagerness as to contribute to give them a frightful 
 aspect.* The inhabitants of the coasts nearer to the north, 
 about the fifty-fourth degree., and even the fifty-second, and~ 
 thence beyond the sixtieth, give themselves another artificial 
 deformity more disgusting than the flat forehead. This is 
 a horizontal incision made, in the time of infancy, quite 
 through the under lip, which causes the appearance of a se 
 cond mouth. A thin piece of wood of an oval shape, com 
 monly about three inches long and two broad, is worn in 
 this orifice, the artificial lips of wh\ph are received into 
 grooves made round the edge of the wooden ornament. 
 This horrible mode of decoration seems in some tribes- 
 wholely, and in others chiefly, to be applied to the female 
 sex, 
 
 The habits worn by the occidental aboriginals of Ame 
 rica are various, but are every where, as may be expected, 
 rude, and in general inadequate for the purposes of modesty 
 or comfortable warmth. The various tribes, like savages 
 in general, are variously ornamented or disfigured, with 
 trinkets, "with paint, or with indelible figures impressed on 
 the skin., The trinkets are worn in strings on the legs and 
 arms, or suspended from the ears, or septum of the nose, 
 perforated for that purpose. On the northern parts of the 
 coast, about Cook's inlet, the common garment of both 
 sexes is a close robe of skin, with the hair mostly outward,, 
 reaching generally to the ankles, sometimes only to the 
 
 * Lewia* Account, 8rot p. 10. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 117 
 
 knees, with a hole above barely sufficient to admit the head, CHAPTER 
 
 and with sleeves reaching- to the wrists. The head, legs, : : 
 
 and feet are commonly naked ; but some have high caps 
 in the form of a truncated cone ; some have leathern stock 
 ings extending half-way up the thigh ; and almost all have 
 mittens for the hands from the paws of bears. For a de 
 fence against rain they use an outside garment made from 
 the intestines of the whale, or some other large animal, 
 like that which is used by the Eskeemoes, whom also these 
 clans resemble in their boats and instruments for fishing. 
 Farther southward, toward the fifty-second degree of lati 
 tude, a robe is worn either of skin or manufactured from 
 the filaments of the inner bark of the cedar, or some other 
 tree, falling to the heels behind, and a little below the knees' 
 before, with a cape in the form of an inverted bowl. A cap 
 is also used in these territories, sometimes a kind of leathern 
 shoe, and in rain a short mantle of matting : but for the 
 covering of those parts which civilized nations are most 
 careful to conceal, no means are employed, except a small 
 apron of fringe carried by the women,, which answers not. 
 the purpose otherwise than quite imperfectly. Garments 
 of thick leather, in case of expected battle, and other de 
 fences against weapons, are occasionally carried also. 
 
 Flax and the wool of some wild quadrupeds are rudely 
 manufactured into a kind of cloth by the people about 
 Nootka sound. Beside various dresses occasionally worn, 
 for war or ceremony, often monstrous and frightful, the 
 common garb of the inhabitants of this part of the coast is 
 a kind of flaxen cloak, ornamented at the edges with fur 
 
NOETHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER and fringes, reaching below the knees, passing under the 
 
 '~r~ left arm, and tied over the right shoulder, in such manner 
 
 as to leave both arms free, and to cover the left side, but to 
 expose their right, except when the vestment is collected by 
 a girdle. Over this is placed a mantle, similar in stuff and 
 ornaments, covering the arms to Ihe elbows and the body 
 . to the waist, resembling a round dish inverted, with a hole 
 in the middle, through which the head is thrust. On the 
 head is a cap of fine matting, in form of a truncated cone, 
 tied under the chin with a string, often decorated at top 
 with a knob or a bunch of tassels. Among the tribes about 
 the Columbia the dress of the men is a small robe of skin, 
 reaching to the middle of the thigh, tied across the breast by 
 a string, with the corners hanging loosely over the arms. 
 Sometimes, instead of tt>is, a blanket, woven by the fingers, 
 is used. All parts of the man, with this imperfect vesture, 
 except the back and shoulders, are exposed to view. The 
 robe of the women descends not below the waist; but the 
 lower parts of the body are incompletely covered by a kind 
 of fringe- work of rushes flags, or bark of trees, sometimes 
 interwoven with fur. The covering of the head is a conical 
 cap of similar materials, tied under the chin, -in like manner 
 as that of the people of Nootka. To notice more varieties 
 would be useless, especially as an intercourse with Euro 
 peans may introduce in a few years considerable alterations. 
 
 The languages of the occidental tribes, of which our 
 knowledge is altogether scanty, appear to be as various as 
 their personal characteristics. The speech of the more 
 northern inhabitants, as about Cook's inlet, is guttural ; but 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 119 
 
 the words, which sound as sentences in the ears of Euro- CHAPTER 
 
 pearts, are pronounced in general with strength and dis- 
 
 tirictness. The language of Nootka, which is essentially 
 different from the more northern dialects, is fur from harsh 
 or disagreeable, abounding more in labial and dental, than 
 in guttural sounds. Yet somo of its syllables cannot accu 
 rately be represented by the letters of our alphabet, nor 
 easily .expressed by Europeans, particularly one which very 
 frequently occurs. This is approximated by Roman cha 
 racters in the word opulszthl, the name of the sun, and 
 onulszthl, that of the moon. The words often terminate 
 in z and ss,but much more commonly in tl. Thus Yucuatl 
 is the real appellation of the harbour, which Cook, front 
 a remarkable inattention, or inaccuracy in hearing, con 
 ceived to be called Nootka. From the little which is known 
 of this language we have ground to suspect an affinity be 
 tween it and the ancient Mexican.* About the Columbia 
 the pronunciation of several tribes is so guttural, that nd-x 
 thing " seems to represent thek- tone of speaking more 
 than the clucking of a fowl or the noise of a parrot. This 
 peculiarity renders their voices scarcely audible, except at 
 a short distance, and, when many of them are talking, forms 
 a strange confusion of sounds Their common conversa 
 tion consists of low guttural sounds, occasionally broken by 
 a loud word or two, after which it relapses, and can scarcely 
 be distinguished'^ by a stranger. How far this mode of 
 speaking may resemble, or differ from, the clacking of the 
 
 * Cook's third Voyage, book 4, chap. 3 and 6. Humboldt, *ol. 2, p..369, 
 i Lewis and Clarke, p. 321, 374* 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 nouses. 
 
 Hottentots, we cannot pretend to know, until the discourses 
 of both kinds of people shall have been heard and described 
 by the same observers. 
 
 Beside various kinds of huts or cabins, like those of other 
 savages in America, habitations of an uncommon sort are 
 in use with the occidental tribes, especially near inlets and 
 rivers where fish are copious. These, both in sides and 
 roof, are composed of planks, retained in due position by 
 poles, posts, and ligatures. Each house contains commonly 
 three, four, or more families, whose distinct apartments are 
 so imperfectly separated, that the whole fabric may be con 
 sidered as having a rude resemblance to a long stable, with 
 two ranges of stalls, and a broad passage in the middle, 
 from end to end, between them. A hollow in the floor, 
 without hearth or chimney, serves as a fire-place. Aper 
 tures in the roof, longitudinal at the ridge-pole, or other 
 wise disposed, imperfectly emit the smoke and admit the 
 figtit. These houses vary in size and other circumstances. 
 In some the roof is flat and horizontal ; in others shelving 
 from one side-wall to the other ; and in others shelving from 
 the ridge-pole to the sides, in the manner of European 
 houses. Some are partly sunk in the earth to the depth of 
 from about four to six feet, above which they rise to the 
 height of six or eight : in others, which are from twelve to 
 fourteen feet high, the floor is on the surface of the ground : 
 and some are built on platforms, elevated on posts, from 
 twelve to near thirty feet above the soil. The last, which 
 are ascended by trunks of trees notched, serving as ladders, 
 appear to be commonly the largest, as they are found from 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 12 1 
 
 a hundred to a hundred and twenty feet long and about CHAPTER 
 
 forty broad ; while others seem generally between thirty ' 
 
 and sixty feet in length, and between fourteen and thirty 
 
 in breadth : some, however, built immediately on the ground, 
 
 have been seen of a vast size, even a hundred and sixty feet 
 
 long and forty broad. The roofs of some, beside boards, 
 
 have also a covering of bark, in the manner of thatch.* 
 
 With the mode of life, and state of society, of these Occi 
 dentals, our acquaintance is so very superficial, that little on 
 that subject can be said with precision. The tribes in general, 
 differently from those of a merely pastoral or venatic life, 
 appear to be stationary, depending chiefly for subsistence 
 on the produce of the seas and rivers. Their food consists 
 partly of berries, roots, and other vegetable substances, but 
 in much greater proportion of aquatic animals, particularly 
 salmon, which ascend the rivers in prodigious numbers. 
 These and other fish, as herrings and sliced porpoises, are 
 preserved for store by drying. The two latter are com 
 monly eaten in that state without any other preparation. 
 The salmon is in general merely warmed, except while it 
 is fresh, when it is boiled or roasted. The operation of 
 boiling is performed in wooden vessels by the immersion 
 of red -hot stones, in succession in the water. The roes of 
 fish, incrusted and dried on the tender branches of the pine, 
 or on a species of grass, are eaten as winter's food, together 
 
 * Lewis and Clarke, p. 369, 382, 392, 431, 515. -Mackenzie, p. 329. 
 Cooke, book 4, chap. 3. Vancouver, rol. 3, p. 128, 405 j rol, 4, p. 25,26. 
 La Perousej TO!. 3, p. 199. 
 
CHAPTER 
 HI. 
 
 Manners. 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 with these vegetables. Among the species of vegetable 
 food is the inner bark of certain trees, pounded and pre 
 pared in various ways, as a substitute for bread. Some 
 tribes on the northern parts of the coast devour fresh fish, 
 or some parts of them at least, in a state entirely raw. The 
 boats, arms, and instruments of the northerns are almost 
 the same with those of the savages of Greenland. Toward 
 the south, as about the Columbia, the boats or canoes are 
 from fifteen to above fifty feet long, each consisting wholely 
 of a single trunk of a tree hollowed. One of the largest 
 carries a cargo of four or five tons, and a crew of twenty or 
 thirty persons. They are managed with such dexterity as 
 to ride safely in tempestuous seas, where a European boat 
 would inevitably perish. The Occidental tribes have been 
 every where found uncleanly in their habitations, persons, 
 and food. To this is ascribed a remarkably premature de 
 cay of the teeth and eyes among the dwellers about the 
 Columbia river. 
 
 Concerning the government, religion, and manners of the 
 occidental tribes, a few superficial remarks only, can be 
 made. Their government seems mostly like that of sa 
 vages in general, where every man is perfectly free, and no 
 chief has authority to command, but merely to advise : yet 
 in some tribes on the coast hereditary monarchy is said to 
 be established, as at Nootka, where the toys or prince is af 
 firmed to be absolute, uniting in his person both the civil 
 and ecclesiastical jurisdiction.* The Nootkains, who have 
 
 * Humboldt, tol. 2, p. 370, 371. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 123 
 
 inade some advances toward civilization, and have regu- CHAPTER 
 
 in. 
 lated their year by fourteen months of twenty days each, ' 
 
 with intercalations to supply the deficiency, are found to 
 believe in the existence of two principles concerned in the 
 government of the world, a good and a bad, and in a con 
 test between them. Notions of a like nature seem to pre 
 vail in other tribes ;* but of their various and absurdly super 
 stitious ideas very little is known, nor would perhaps a par 
 ticular knowledge of them be worthy of being communicated. 
 Some forms of worship are observed in several communities, 
 where wooden images of rude formation are in use. The 
 modes of burial are various. Of these to mention two may 
 be sufficient. The one is to wrap the bodies in the skin of 
 animals, and to place them, one over another, in wooden 
 houses appropriated to that purpose. The other is to leave 
 them to moulder in the open air, in canoes, on spots of 
 ground somewhat elevated, chosen from some superstitious 
 motive. Much diversity has been discovered in the manners 
 of different tribes. Many are thievish and treacherous, as is 
 generally the case with savages : yet some have been found, 
 with surprise, remarkably honest, particularly the Wolla- 
 wollahs, who dwell about the Columbia river, at a consider 
 able distance from the ocean. Some also have displayed a 
 comparatively great mildness of manners, as the Chopunmsh 
 clans, who inhabit a neighbouring tract still farther from the 
 ocean.f 
 
 * Mackenzie, p. 374. t Lewis & Clarke, p. 535, 557. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER All the occidental tribes are addicted to gaming, as are 
 1 men in general of barbarous manners, in whatsoever coun 
 try they are found. These tribes, however, bear an honour 
 able distinction from other savages in their behaviour to the 
 female sex. Women among them are not only treated with 
 respect, but also often assume authority and command. 
 This, with seeming justice is ascribed to their mode of life. 
 Among people purely venatic, where a precarious and often 
 scanty subsistence is procurable only by the vigorous exer 
 tions of the male sex, the females are considered as of little 
 utility in contributiug to the common support, and therefore 
 of little value. But where, as in these western tracts, the food 
 consists chiefly of wild vegetables and fish, the women are 
 as useful as the men in the acquiring of necessaries for the 
 family or clan. Here the collecting of roots and berries 
 , devolves chiefly on the females, and they are as dexterous 
 as the males in the management of boats and instruments of 
 the fishery. The stationary life of this people also, and 
 their plenty of provisions, occasion a treatment of the old 
 and infirm different from that which is experienced by per 
 sons of this description in tribes which subsist by hunting. 
 In the erratic life of the latter, who make long and laborious 
 excursions in quest of precarious food, the infirm, who can 
 give no assistance, nor accompany the rest without causing 
 delay and trouble, become a useless incumbrance, and are 
 therefore abandoned. But in a stationary state of society, 
 amid a sufficiency of provisions, the coversation and advice 
 of the aged and experienced are regarded as compensating 
 for the victuals which they consume. We find indeed, that 
 among the occidental Americans, the aged of both sexes., 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 125 
 
 when even deprived of sight and the use of their limbs, are 
 held in respect, and treated with tenderness Notwith 
 standing however that so much deference is paid to females, 
 men prostitute their wives, daughters, or sisters, to strangers 
 without scruple.* 
 
 The Interior aboriginals belong to that general race of 
 indigenous Americans, of which I have spoken in the gene 
 ral view, and which extends throughout the vast continent 
 of America, from the vicinity of the Eskeemoes to the strait 
 of Magellan. The colour of the skin is coppery, or a red 
 dish brown ; the hair universally of a jetty black, glossy, 
 smooth, coarse, flat, and pendent ; the eyes black, small, 
 deeply set, and oblong, with the corners directed upward 
 toward the temples ; the nose commonly sraight ; the lower 
 part of the face in general triangular, while the forehead 
 approaches a square form ; the cheeks prominent ; the cast 
 of the countenance suspicious and ferocious, contrasted 
 with an expression of gentleness about the mouth ; the fore 
 head less prominent, and the occipital bone less curved, than 
 in Europeans ; the face either destitute of a beard, by the 
 eradication of the hairs, or thinly furnished with that appen 
 dage ;f and " the mouth is formed like a shark's, that is, 
 the sides are lower than the front, and the teeth, small, white, 
 and regular, are sharp and cutting, like those of the cat or 
 the tiger. May not this form be naturally accounted for 
 from their habit of biting from a large piece when they eat, 
 
 * Lewis and Clarke, p. 441, 44?. Vancouver, Vol. 4, p. 254, 
 i Humboldt, TO!. 1, p. 141148. Volney, p. 403 413. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 in. 
 
 Interior 
 
 Aboriginals, 
 
 Persons. 
 
J26 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 Habits. 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 without ever using a knife ? This habit evidently gives the 
 muscles a position which at length they retain, and this po 
 sition ultimately modifies the solid parts likewise."* They are 
 in general well shaped, but less robust than the Europeans, 
 and various in stature. Variations also in personal charac 
 teristics, even shades of colour, have place in the different 
 tribes, by which those who are well acquainted with them 
 can easily distinguish them. Some distinctive marks are 
 the effects of art. One of the most striking is found in the 
 tribe of the Choctaws, who, by a compression in the days 
 of infancy, mould the head into the form of a truncated py 
 ramid. The shades of colour are so different, that, while 
 in some tribes the skin is hardly darker than in the southern 
 Europeans, it is in others almost as black as that of the 
 Negroes, f as is the case among the Mississaguis, at lake 
 Ontario. 
 
 The habits or dresses of the aboriginals, improperly 
 termed Indians, of North America, vary in the different 
 tribes, and in a difference of circumstances. Many go al 
 most naked, even in severe weather, using only some of the 
 articles which compose a full clothing. These articles con 
 sist principally of a kind of shoes, hoes, aprons, a coat, an 
 outside robe, a girdle, and some appendages. Those who 
 have an opportunity of trading with Europeans have mostly 
 exchanged their leathern garments for those of cloth or 
 blanketing, but the rest still continue to clothe themselves 
 
 * Volney, ibidem. 
 i Weld's Travels in North America, 8vo, London, 1799, vol. 2, p. 224. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 127 
 
 i 
 
 with skins. The vestments of both materials are fashioned CHAPTER 
 
 in the same manner, and are in general nicely decorated, 
 at the seams and edges, with porcupine's quills and other 
 ornaments. 
 
 The shoe, called ?noccasin, is formed of a single piece 
 of the skin of the buffalo, elk, or deer, fitted closely to the 
 foot like a sock, with a seam from the toe to the instep, and 
 another behind at the heel, and with sometimes a sole of 
 what seerns a thick parchment, from the skin of the elk. 
 The hose or leggings, of leather or cloth, extending from 
 the instep to the middle of the thigh, are fitted tightly to the 
 limbs, and sometimes sewed on them so closely as to remain 
 immoveably fixed until worn into rags, and are fastened to 
 a narrow girdle by two strings, one outside of each thigh. 
 Another narrow belt is also in use, to which are appended two 
 small aprons, one before, the other behind, and through 
 which are drawn, behind and before, the ends of a narrow 
 piece of cloth, or leather, passing between the thighs. 
 What may be termed the coat is in the form of a shirt, open 
 at the neck and wrists, and descending only to the upper 
 ends of the leggings. The outside robe is a kind of mantle 
 of leather, sufficient to envelope the whole body, or a great 
 square piece of cloth, or a blanket, thrown about the shoul 
 ders, and variously placed or folded, according to the fancy 
 of the wearer, but often drawn over the left shoulder and 
 under the right, in such manner as to leave the light arm 
 free. The garments of the women are scarcely distinguish 
 able from those of the men. Some wear a skin, or cloth, 
 about the middle, descending to the knees ; and some a 
 
128 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 Language. 
 
 shirt which reaches to the ancles. The hair of both sexes 
 is variously modified. Among males many permit only one 
 lock to grow, which falls backward in length from the 
 crown of the head. Both men and women wear ornaments 
 in great variety, as bracelets on the arms, pendants in the 
 ears, and sometimes in the nose. Some men slit the ears, 
 and distend them so as to touch the sho.ilders. The faces in 
 general are horribly painted or daubed, especially in pre 
 paring for a warlike expedition, with ointments of different 
 colours, particularly black and red.* 
 
 The languages spoken by the numerous little nations or 
 tribes of savages, who roam through the immense wilds 
 between the northern Andes and the European settlements 
 on the eastern side of North America, have not as yet been 
 made so much the object of philological enquiry, as to af 
 ford grounds for the furnishing of any satisfactory informa 
 tion on that subject to the reader. Such an inquiry, exten 
 sively and judiciously pursued, by tracing affinities between 
 different languages, would tend to discover a consanguinity, 
 or an ancient connexion, between different clans, and also to 
 determine whether an affinity exists between any of these 
 American dialects and any of those which are spoken in the 
 old continent. Whether, however, any valuable knowledge 
 would result from this labour may be doubtful, since these 
 barbarous dialects, wholely oral, or unrecorded by any per 
 manent characters, may have greatly changed in a course 
 
 * W*4d, vol. 2, p. 230-238. Mackenzie, p. xciii XCT. 36, 37.- 
 Lewis and Clarke, p. 6466, 77, 648. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICAt 
 
 129 
 
 of ages, and several may probably bave altogether perished. CHAPTER 
 Yet great pains are said to be taken by the American sa 
 vages to preserve the purity of their languages, particularly 
 in their orations at their public councils or assemblies, 
 where orators are studious to display their eloquence, and 
 the auditors attentive to criticise the speeches. But the 
 languages of savage tribes, whose ideas are few and little 
 abstracted, must necessarily be barren, how figurative so 
 ever their studied orations may be. The dialects in general 
 of the interior aboriginals contain many polysyllables, and 
 in several the words end frequently in vowels. Some dia 
 lects are perceptibly more guttural than others ; but the 
 females are observed to pronounce the languages much 
 more softly than the other sex, in general indeed with a 
 delicacy very pleasing to a European ear.* Most of these 
 dialects, or the greater part of them, are comprehended under 
 two general heads, the Knisteneaux and Chepewyan languages. 
 The former, in all its variations, is spoken by the tribes 
 who dwell in the vicinity of Hudson's gulf and the British 
 settlements in Canada, and thence as far westward at least 
 as the lake of the Hills. - The latter is in use among those 
 who inhabit the more western regions from the sixty-fifth 
 degree of latitude southward to about the fify-second.f 
 
 The habitations of the savages of North America are rude Habitations. 
 in the extreme. In general they are only temporary huts, 
 composed of a frame- work of poles and a covering of bark. 
 The poles are fixed with their lower ends in the ground, 
 
 Weld, Tol. 2, p. 288. 
 
 Mackenzie, p. xcii, cxrii. 
 
 R 
 
130 NORTH WESTFRN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER and the upper joined at top, so as to form a slope for the 
 outside covering. Some huts are conical; others of diffe 
 rent figures. In some a hole at the top serves for a chimney. 
 Some are only sheds open on one side, These are often 
 placed in pairs, each pair with the open sides opposite to 
 each other, and a fire in the space between them for the 
 accommodation of both. Sometimes four sheds are dis 
 posed in the form of a quadrangle, with one fire in the cen 
 ter for them all. Several tribes dwell in tents covered wit h 
 skins. Tents of this description of an extraordinary size 
 are used as common halls for public consultations. In their 
 hunting expeditions, in the rigour of winter, the savages 
 frame their temporary lodges from the snow itself, which 
 they use, on the occasion, as the material of building, and 
 which, consolidated by the frost, forms a firm enclosure, 
 
 and an effectual shelter from the winds. 
 
 \ 
 
 3Food. The food of the savage tribes in this immense region con 
 
 sists principally, often wholely, of the flesh of animals, eaten 
 frequently almost raw, sometimes entirely in that state. 
 Their meat, when cooked, is boiled, fried on embers, or 
 stewed or roasted with hot stones, covered with leaves, or 
 grass, and earth. The boiling, where European pots have 
 not been procured, is performed in kettles of stone, or in 
 wooden vessels, in which the water is heated by red-hot 
 stones. They much prefer the fat of the flesh, as that of the 
 bear, to the lean, as the former remains longer in the sto 
 mach under the operation of digestion. The lean however 
 is necessarily chosen for the making of what is called pemi- 
 han a meat preserved for store. For this purpose the flesK 
 
.N'ORTIl WESTERS AMERICA. 
 
 131 
 
 . 
 
 of the larger kinds of quadrupeds, cut into thin slices, and CHAPTER 
 
 dried in the sunbeams, or on a wooden grate over a slow - 
 
 fire, or by the frost, is pounded carefully between two 
 stones. In this state it may, with care, be kept fit for food 
 during 1 several years, without salt or any substitute for it. It 
 is mixed with an equal quantity of the thickest or firmest 
 kind of the fat of animals, melted, and poured on it in a 
 boiling state. Carried in baskets or bags, in expeditions, 
 it forms a nutritive sustenance, when supplies from the chase 
 or the fishery fail. The pemikan is sometimes varied by 
 other mixtures. Thus in the composition of a superior 
 kind, marrow and dried berries have a place. To berries, 
 wild roots, the rind of trees, and other vegetables, recourse 
 is had, when the more usual, and more favourite kind of ali 
 ment cannot be obtained. Some tribes boil vegetables with 
 the flesh of bears, the fat of which gives such a flavour as is 
 considered as delicious even by some Europeans. Salt is 
 used as a seasoning by some tribes ; but many never taste 
 salt, spices of any kind, or bread, at any time in their lives. 
 The flesh of dogs is eaten at religious feasts, but not in 
 general as common food. 
 
 The superstition of men in a savage condition ought Religion, 
 hardly to be dignified with the name of religion, nor can a 
 regular statement of their wild and irrational fancies be 
 easily formed. Religious notions "form not a regular 
 system among savages, because every individual, in his 
 independent state, makes for himself a creed, after his own 
 manner. To judge from the accounts of the historians of 
 the first settlers, and those of late travellers in the north- 
 
 n 2 
 
132 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER west, it appears that the savages generally compose their 
 
 mythology in the following manner. First a great manitou, 
 
 or superior genius, governs the earth and the aerial meteors, 
 the visible whole of which constitutes the universe of a sa- 
 vage. This great manitou, residing on high, without any 
 clear idea where, rules the world, without giving himself 
 much- trouble ; sends rain, wind, or fair weather, according 
 to his fancy ; sometimes makes a noise to amuse himself ; 
 concerns himself as little about the affairs of men as about 
 those of other living beings that inhabit the earth ; does 
 good without taking any thought about it ; suffers ill to be 
 perpetrated, without its disturbing his repose ; and in the 
 mean time leaves the world to a destiny or fatality, the laws 
 of which are anterior and paramount to all things. Under 
 his command are subordinate manitous, or genii, innumera 
 ble, who people earth and air, and preside over every thing 
 that happens, and have each a separate employment. Of 
 these genii some are good, and these do all the good that 
 takes place in nature. Others are bad, and these occasion 
 all the evil that happens to living beings, It is to the latter 
 chiefly, and almost exclusively, that the savages address 
 their prayers, their propitiatory offerings, arid what religious 
 worship they have, the object of which is to appease the 
 malice of these manitous, as men appease the ill humour of 
 morose and envious persons. They offer little or nothing 
 to the good genii, because they would do neither more nor 
 less good on this account.'* 
 
 " This fear of evil genii is one of their most habitual 
 thoughts, and that by which they are most tormented. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA* 133 
 
 Their most intrepid warriors are, in this respect, no bette? CHAPTER 
 than the women and children. A dream, a phantom seen 
 at night in the woods, or a sinister cry, equally alarms their 
 credulous and superstitious minds. But. as wherever there 
 are dupes, knaves will start up, we find in every savage tribe 
 some juggler; or pretended magician, who makes a trade 
 of expounding dreams, and negociat ing with the manitous 
 the business and desires of every believer. Notwithstand 
 ing their intercourse with the genii, the magicians are 
 greatly puzzled to explain their nature, form, and aspect. 
 Not having our ideas of pure spirit, they suppose them to 
 be corporeal substances, yet light, volatile, true shadows, 
 and manes, after the manner of the ancients. Sometimes 
 they and< the savages select some particular one, whom they 
 suppose to reside in a tree, a serpent, a rock, or a cataract, 
 and him they make their fetish, like the negroes of Africa. 
 The notion of another life is a pretty general belief too 
 among the savages. They imagine that, after death, they 
 shall go into another climate and country, where game and 
 fish abound, where they can hunt without being fatigued> 
 walk about without fear of an enemy, eat very fat meat, 
 live without care or trouble, in short be happy in every 
 thing that constitutes happiness in this life. Those of the 
 north, place this climate toward the south-west, because the 
 summer winds, and the most pleasing and genial tempera 
 ture, come from that quarter."* The analogy is easily 
 observable which the religious notions of the indigenous 
 iribes of North America bear to those of the primitive 
 
 * Volaey, p. 477480. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER Grecians, to those of the barbarous hordes at present in 
 Northern Asia, and indeed to those of people in a state of 
 savage ignorance in every part of the world. Where Chris- 
 \ tian missionaries have endeavoured to propagate their doc 
 trines among the more eastern tribes, they seem to have in 
 some degree modified the ancient and proper opinions of the 
 American oboriginals ; but no real conversion to Christianity 
 appears to have had place ; except with an exceedingly 
 small number whom the Moravians have persuaued to adopt 
 the agricultural, instead of the venatic life. 
 
 The superstition of the savages is so blended with fancied 
 magic, on which, more than on drugs of any kind, they 
 depend for the cure of diseases, that every thing of a reli 
 gious nature is by them termed medicine. In feasts which 
 are celebrated for religious purposes, in some of which the 
 flesh of dogs, offered in sacrifice, is eaten, what is called the 
 bag of medicine is opened with great ceremony, containing 
 several sacred articles, one of which, in some tribes, is a 
 little image. A piece of furniture indispensable on such 
 occasions is the sacred stem of a pipe, the smoking through 
 which is a most material part of the ceremonial. This stem, 
 kept in reserve with reverential care, is adapted on the occa 
 sion, to a pipe filled with lighted tobacco, and transferred 
 from hand to hand till each man takes a whiff. Every par 
 taker in the rite of smoking is regarded as bound by an ob 
 ligation, according to the end proposed in the giving of the 
 feast. Thus, if the feast be furnished by a public contri 
 bution, and war be the object, the partakers are solemnly 
 enlisted for the expedition. When a chief holds a religious 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 135 
 
 assembly at his own mansion, all persons, who join in the 
 ceremony of smoking, are bound to entertain no grudge or 
 hostile design against the chief, or against one another.* 
 In some tribes, as among the people called Mandans and 
 Minnetaries, a huge stone, conceived to be oracular, is an 
 object of religious respect. When a deputation visits the 
 sacred spot, the deputies perform the rite of smoking to the 
 stone, and of presenting the pipe to it, and afterwards retire 
 to an adjacent wood for the night. In the morning the de 
 stinies of the nation are found marked by a number of white 
 spots on the stone. These are deciphered by connoisseurs, 
 who probably had secretly made them in the night, f 
 
 No species of rule, which can rightly deserve the title of 
 government, has place among the savage aboriginals in the 
 interior of North America, in each tribe or nation all men 
 are perfectly equal in political power. None can have any 
 authority to command, nor can any one have influence, ex 
 cept by superior age, wisdom, or talents. Thus <c the 
 excessive independence of each member, and the absence 
 of every social tie, from the want of all subordination and 1 
 authority, have constituted such a turbulent and terrorist 
 democracy, that it may well be called a real and fearful 
 anarchy."J In all tribes are chiefs, some for counsel, some 
 for war, or for both ; but their authority depends wholely 
 on their persuasive powers, and the opinion entertained of 
 their wisdom or prowess. As all the members however 
 have one interest at heart, the general welfare of the nation, 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 III. 
 
 i Government 
 
 * Mackenzie, p. xcix ciii. 
 1 Volney, p. 449-. 
 
 t Lewis and Clarke, p. 121, 
 
136 NORTHWFSFERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER and as the chiefs are well known to-be actuated by no other 
 
 - motives, whatsoever measures they recommend are mostly 
 
 adopted.* In many tribes are found hereditary chiefs for 
 advice or counsel ; but the leaders in war are selected for 
 their courage, experience, and skill. Among some of the 
 more southern tribes, less erratic than the northern, a few 
 faint marks of advancement toward a more regular govern 
 ment, are observed. Thus in many villages a kind of 
 police is established for the preservation of internal peace. 
 In each of these an authority is constantly exercised by dif 
 ferent men in succession, two or three at a time, nominated 
 by the chief; an authority held so sacred, that no resistance 
 is made to these officers of police, who, in the suppressing 
 of quarrels or disorders, are not sparing of blows. f 
 
 The savages, of whom I am treating, attach so little of 
 importance to property, that their chiefs are generally the 
 poorest in the several tribes. Some indeed have imagined 
 that " no right of property exists among savages. This 
 fact, though generally true, requires however some more 
 precise distinction. Even the most vagabond and ferocious 
 savage has an exclusive possession of his arms, clothes, 
 trinkets, and moveables ; and it is remarkable, that all 
 these objects are the produce of his own labour and indus 
 try : so that the right of this kind of property, which is sacred 
 among them, evidently derives from the property which 
 every man has in his own body and limbs, and which con 
 sequently is a natural property. Landed or fixed property 
 is absolutely unknown in tribes which are constantly wan- 
 
 * Weld, TO!. 2, p. 273. tLewis and Clarke, p. 6. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 dering : but there are cases of exception among those, whom 
 the goodness of the soil, or any other reason has rendered 
 sedentary. Among tribes who live in villages, the houses, 
 built either of trunks of trees, of mud, or of stones, belong 
 
 * o 
 
 without dispute to the man by whom they were erected. 
 There is a real property in the house, in the ground which it 
 covers, and even in the garden which is sometimes annexed. 
 It appears farther that, in certain nations, where agriculture 
 has made some progress, the children and relatives inherited 
 these. Consequently there was a full and permanent right 
 of property. But in other nations, at the death of the pos 
 sessor, all was confounded together, and became objects of 
 division, either by lot or choice. If the tribe migrates for 
 some time, and deserts its village, the individual then retains 
 no positive right to the soil or the ruined hut ; but he has those 
 of the first occupier, and of the labour bestowed by his own 
 hands." 3 Except such pittances of ground, the whole of the 
 region inhabited by the interior aboriginals may be said to 
 be an immense common. 
 
 137 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 The small and thinly scattered tribes of savages, who 
 roam through, or in any manner inhabit, this immense 
 common, bear various denominations, many of which appear 
 to have been whimsically, or from some fanciful concep 
 tions, bestowed on them by Europeans. These petty clans 
 are commonly stiled nations, though they seldom consist of 
 more than three or four hundred families each, sometimes 
 of not more than one hundred. The tribes are generally 
 
 * Voluey, p. 448 450! 
 s 
 
 Tribe*. 
 
138 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHA n?. ER subdivided into bands, which severally bear distinctive 
 appellations. The bands' are often so small as to consist 
 of only three or four families each, particularly in the dreary 
 , northern parts, where food is so scanty and precarious. 
 The term nation is sometimes used in an extensive sense, 
 as signifying a combination or system of many tribes, 
 speaking the same language, and consequently supposed to 
 be of kindred blood. Thus the Knisteneaux, or Kilistinons, 
 extend their venatic courses from the gulf of Hudson, on the 
 northern side of the Saint Lawrence river, as far to the west 
 as the Athapesco lake, and seem to be making a progress 
 still farther westward. The Algonquin race, who speak 
 the same language, are sometimes confounded with this 
 extensive people, and are sometimes considered as under a 
 separate denomination. The numerous tribes of the Che- 
 pewyans, who appear to make a contrary progress to 
 ward the east, occupy all the country between the Kilistinons 
 and Eskeemoes,and extend on the eastern side of the northern 
 Andes, as far to the south as the fifty-second degree of 
 northern latitude on the river Columbia. The Nadowasees, 
 ami Assiniboins, inhabiting the plains about the Saskatshawin 
 and Assiniboin rivers, appear to be advancing toward the 
 northwest. 
 
 Depopulation. The progress of indiginal tribes toward the west and 
 northwest is caused by the advance of European colonies in 
 these directions ; those of the English from the east, and 
 those of the Spaniards n*om the south. According as 
 the colonists push their encroachments into the wilder 
 ness, converting portion after portion into arable ground, 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. J39 
 
 the savages retire before them, together with the wild beasts, CHAPTER 
 
 in. 
 on whose flesh they depend for sustenance. Their numbers ' 
 
 decrease still faster, from a variety of causes, than the extent 
 of their hunting grounds is diminished. Even before the 
 arrival of Europeans among them, their increase in popula 
 tion, if increase had place, was extremely slow, not only 
 from mutual slaughter in their wars of tribe against tribe, 
 but also from the infecundity of their females, and the great 
 difficulty of rearing children. The infecundity of the females 
 is caused by their licentiousness in celibacy, their practice 
 of procuring abortion, and the labours and hardships im 
 posed on them by the savage tyranny of their husbands. 
 The difficulty of supporting infants arnid the hardships of 
 savage life is such, that, when twins are born, one of them 
 is commonly abandoned, and the mother takes care not to 
 attempt to rear more than two or three children, suckling 
 each, in succession, during two, three, or four years. Since 
 their intercourse with Europeans they have decreased rapidly 
 in number, principally from two causes, the introduction of 
 spirituous liquors, and the infection of the small-pox. By 
 spirituous liquors, which, from the intemperance characteris 
 tic of savages, they swallow, whensoever procurable, so long 
 as they can stand or sit, their health is undermined or 
 destroyed, and quarrels arise in the rage of ebriety, in which 
 they kill or maim one another, unless their women, which is 
 generally the case, remove all their weapons out of their reach. 
 This constantly, though slowly, operating cause of depopu 
 lation is far exceeded in horror by the temporary ravages, of 
 the small-pox, to check which, this people, from ignorance 
 and superstition, attempt not to apply a remedy. 
 
 s 2 
 
140 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER A late traveller describes the havoc known by him to have 
 been made, through a great extent of country, by this ter 
 rible pest, " which spread its desolating power, as the fire 
 consumes the dry grass of the field. The fatal infection 
 spread around with a baneful rapidity, which no flight could 
 escape, and with a fatal effect that nothing could resist. 
 It destroyed with its pestilential breath whole families and 
 tribes, and the horrid scene presented to those, who had the 
 melancholy and afflicting opportunity of beholding it, a 
 combination of the dead, the dying, and such as, to avoid 
 the horrid fate, of their friends around them, prepared to 
 disappoint the plague of its prey, by terminating their own 
 existence. The habits and lives of these devoted people, 
 which provided not to day for the wants of to-morrow, must 
 have heightened the pains of such an affliction, by leaving 
 them not only without remedy, but also without alleviation. 
 Nought was left them but to submit in agony and despair. 
 To aggravate the picture, if aggravation were possible, may 
 be added the putrid carcases, which the wolves, with a fu 
 rious voracity, dragged forth from the huts, or which were 
 mangled within them by the dogs, whose hunger was satis 
 fied with the disfigured remains of their masters. Nor was 
 it uncommon for the father of a family, whom the infection 
 had not reached, to call them around him, to represent the 
 cruel sufferings and horrid fate of their relatives, frdm the 
 influence of some evil spirit, who was preparing to extir 
 pate their race ; and to incite thpm to baffle death, 
 with all its horrors, by their own poinards. At the same 
 time, if their hearts failed them in this necessary act, he 
 was himself ready to perform the deed of mercy with his 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 own hand, as the last act of his affection, and instantly CHAPTER 
 
 in 
 to follow them to the common place of rest and refuge 
 
 from human evil."* From all concurrent causes of de 
 crease in their numbers, we may reasonably presume, 
 that, in two or three centuries, if not much sooner, this race 
 of men will have become extinct. To form an estimate of 
 their present population would be no easy task. It appears 
 to be much overrated by those who assign the proportion 
 of an individual to every twenty thousand acres, especially 
 in the sterile regions of the north. 
 
 From the modes of savage life in this immense wilder- Life, 
 ness the population must necessarily be thin in the extreme. 
 Those tribes who reside in the vicinity of the great lakes 
 and rivers draw rnueh of their sustenance from the fishery, 
 although their improvident habits prevent them from avail 
 ing themselves effectually of this sort of nourishment : but 
 far the greater number depend for subsistence on the flesh 
 of deer and other such animals as they can procure by shoot 
 ing, by snares, or any other modes of the venatic art. For 
 an adequate supply of this kind of food to an improvident 
 family, who unsparingly gluttonize on whatsoever they 
 acquire of this favourite aliment, an extensive range of ter 
 ritory is required. In the vast wilds of the north, where, 
 from the prevalence of cold, the vegetation is scanty, and 
 consequently the animals, thereby maintained, compara 
 tively few, the wretched inhabitants are obliged, in small 
 parties, to roam so incessantly in quest of prey, the support 
 
 * Mackenzie, p, iiy. xv 
 
I JO NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER of life, that any who, from weakness or fatigue, are unable 
 - to keep pace with the rest, are lei't belli a 1, and, if they can 
 not, by following- the traces of their comrades, overtake 
 them at their resting places, are abandoned finally to their 
 fate. In the more southern parts, where pasturage and 
 animals of the chase are more copious, the inhabitants asso 
 ciate in larger bands, and are less erratic ; though there also 
 they frequently change their quarters, according to their 
 wants and other circumstances, removing their tents, or 
 abandoning their old huts, and erecting new. In the vast 
 plains, toward the south the use of the horse has, since its 
 introduction, rendered hunting more easy. Beside various 
 other modes of obtaining their prey, they encompass on 
 horseback a herd of buffaloes, and kill a number with ar 
 rows or other weapons, evading, by dexterous horseman 
 ship, the assaults attempted by the surrounding animals in 
 their own defence. 
 
 Some tribes, where the land is fertile, cultivate small 
 patches of ground, in which, with the hoe, they plant maiz, 
 potatoes, and other vegetables. To allure some neighbour 
 ing aboriginals from the venatic life to the agricultural, and 
 thus to entice them into a state of civilization, has been zea 
 lously attempted by the Quakers of Pensylvunia, that most 
 benevolent of all sects of Christians. To teach them by 
 example, some persons were sent to reside among the 
 Oneidas and Sennekas, two tribes of a confederated people, 
 denominated the six nations, or more properly the five. 
 The execution of this plan was attended with most pro 
 mising effects, in the early years of the nineteenth century : 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 143 
 
 "but vie may reasonably fear that these effects have been 
 unfortunately subverted by the influence of a war, since 
 waged, between the British and Anglo-American govern 
 ments, in which the savageclans were, asauxiliars, involved. 
 The wars indeed of the European colonists in North-Ame 
 rica against the indigenous tribes, together with the intro 
 duction of ardent liquors, have been chiefly instrumental 
 not only to prevent the improvement of this unfortunate 
 race, but even, by destroying their plantations, and driving 
 them to the life of hunters, to replunge them into the savage 
 state, when they had made any progress toward emerging 
 from it. The countries now occupied by the Anglo-Americans 
 were, at the arrival of the first colonists, found in the pos 
 session of tribes who had made progress in agriculture, 
 some advancement toward civilization, and were governed 
 by chiefs styled sachems, who seem to have been vested 
 with considerable authority. These clans, by their hosti 
 lities with the colonists, have been gradually exterminated, 
 or driven into the interior parts, and, by the destruction of 
 their nascent governments, reduced to a lower state ofsa- 
 vageness. Such wars were more destructive, as the con 
 test was more unequal, than those which had place among 
 the savages themselves, though the latter were rendered 
 more bloody, than they otherwise would have been, by the 
 greater wildness of anarchy into which the clans were 
 fallen. 
 
 In their wars is exhibited the cruelty of the savage Ame 
 ricans in its most hideous forms, and in them also are shewn, 
 in their utmost stretch, those faculties of the mind and body 
 
 CHAPTER 
 in. 
 
 Manners. 
 
144 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER of which they are possessed. The causes of those wars are 
 ' various, but the most frequent is an inextinguishable spirit 
 of diabolical revenge., transmitted often from generation to 
 generation, for the gratifying of which, by the destruction of 
 the hated object, a savage sometimes, even quite alone, per 
 forms a journey of several hundred miles, through forests, 
 swamps, and other tracts almost impassable, exposed to 
 hunger, thirst, and the inclemencies of the weather. To 
 
 o * * 
 
 kindle the flame of vengeance in the breasts of the youth, 
 when a hostile expedition is resolved by the chiefs of a tribe, 
 the song of war is sung, composed in such terms commonly 
 as the following. ' The bones of our compatriots lie un 
 covered : their bloody bed has not been washed : their spi 
 rits cry out against us : they must be appeased : let us go 
 and devour their slayers : sit no longer inactive on your 
 mats: lift the hatchet, console the spirits of the dead, and 
 tell them that they shall be avenged.' In their military 
 expeditions, either in smaller or greater parties, their grand 
 object is to destroy as many as possible of their enemies, at 
 the least possible expense of lives on their own side. They 
 therefore never engage in open fight, but proceed entirely 
 by ambuscade and surprise, concealing their approaches 
 with the utmost precaution. If their enterprise is successful, 
 they bring away what prisoners they can, and also the scalps 
 of the dead and wounded, as trophies of their triumph. The 
 scalp is the hair of the head together with the skin, which, 
 with a knife and their teeth, they tear from the skull with 
 horrible dexterity. Some Europeans, who have been scalp 
 ed alive, have survived this dreadful operation, and, by 
 wearing a plate of silver or tin on the crown of the head* 
 
^PRTHVVESTERN AMERICA. 145 
 
 for protection from cold, have enjoyed good health many CHAPTER 
 years. 
 
 When the victors have returned home to their village or 
 encampment, the prisoners are obliged to pass between two 
 ranks formed by women and children, who with sticks and 
 bludgeons, beat them terribly as they proceed. After this 
 a selection is made of some to be consigned to death, and 
 of others to be permitted to live. The men of the latter 
 destination are presented to women who have lost their 
 husbands or sons. If they are rejected by these, they are 
 inevitably doomed to death : but, if they are received, they 
 become the substitutes of the deceased, whose places they 
 were designed to occupy. They adopt all the enmities of 
 their new associates, losing all affection for their own rela 
 tives and their tribe, whom they now regard as aliens and 
 foes, and against whom they join in hostilities with fierce 
 ness and hatred. In fact their former tribe, considering 
 them as indelibly disgraced by their captivity, would not 
 receive them if they should return ; which renders this 
 transference of their friendship to their former enemies less 
 wonderful than it might otherwise appear. 
 
 Commonly, when a captive is consigned to death, he is 
 fastened to a stake, near a pile of burning wood, and tor 
 tured by the surrounding crowd in a most dreadful manner. 
 Beside other modes of torment, some apply red-hot irons to 
 his limbs, and others, tearing pieces of flesh from his bones, 
 roast and eat them in his presence. Avoiding to injure the 
 vital parts, they sometimes prolong this infernal operation 
 
146 NORTHWESTERN AMERIC*. 
 
 CHAPTER during 1 two or three days. " What is related of these terri- 
 in. j 
 
 " "' ble scenes by travellers, who have witnessed the cannibal 
 
 joy of the actors in them, and particularly the fury of the 
 women and children, and with what atrocious delight they 
 emulate one another in acts of cruelty ; what they add of 
 the heroic firmness and unalterable coolness of the sufferers> 
 who not only express no sensation of pain, but brave and 
 defy their tormentors with the haughtiest pride, bitterest 
 irony, and most insulting sarcasms, chaunting their own 
 exploits ; enumerating the friends and relatives of the spec 
 tators, whom they had slain ; particularizing the tortures 
 which they had inflicted on them ; and accusing them all 
 of cowardice, pusillanimity, and ignorance in the art of tor 
 menting; till, dropping piecemeal, and devoured alive, 
 before their own eyes, by their enemies drunk with rage, 
 they lose their last breath with their last words : all this 
 would be incredible to civilized nations, were not the truth 
 established by incontrovertible testimony, and will someday 
 be treated as fabulous by posterity, when savages shall no 
 longer exist."* For the peculiar cruelty of these people, 
 and their peculiar fortitude in braving the most horrible 
 torments, we cannot otherwise pretend to account than 
 from the force of the most deeply rooted habits. 
 
 A judicious traveller, who studied the manners of the wild 
 aboriginals of this vast region, speaks thus, in endeavouring 
 to develope their general character : ff The American sa 
 vage, placed on a soil abounding in grass and shrubs, find- 
 
 * Volney, p. 458, 459. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 ing it difficult to retain captive animals always ready to flee CHAPTER 
 
 into the woods, and feeling it more pleasant to pursue the n 
 
 there, as well as more convenient to kill than to feed them, 
 has been led by the nature of his situation to become a 
 hunter, a shedder of blood, and an eater of flesh. Thus a 
 hunter and butcher, who has had daily occasion to kill, and 
 in every animal has beheld nothing but a fugitive prey, 
 which he must be quick to seize, he has acquired a roaming, 
 wasteful, and ferocious disposition ; has become an animal 
 of the same kind with the wolf and the tiger; has united in 
 bands or troops, but not into organized societies. Unac 
 quainted with the ideas of property and of preservation, 
 he has remained a stranger to all sentiments of family, and 
 of a care to preserve which these inspire. Confined to his 
 own powers, he has been obliged to keep them incessantly 
 bent to their utmost stretch ; and hence an independent, 
 restless, unsocial humour ; a proud untameable spirit, hos 
 tile toward ail men ; a habitual state of excitement in con 
 sequence of permanent danger ; a desperate determination 
 to risk at every moment a life incessantly threatened ; an 
 absolute indifference to the past, which has been toilsome, 
 and to the future, which is uncertain ; and lastly an exist 
 ence wholly confined to the present. These individual man 
 ners, forming the public manners of the tribes, have ren 
 dered them equally thriftless, greedy, and continually under 
 the yoke of necessitousness, and have occasioned the habi 
 tual and encreasing want of extending their rights of chase, 
 the frontiers of their territory, and invading the domains 
 of others. Hence more hostile habits without, and a more 
 constant state of a war, irritation., and cruelty." 
 
148 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER " The habit of shedding blood, or of merely seeing K 
 
 shed, corrupts every feeling of humanity : but to this are 
 
 added several other causes, arising both from the subject 
 itself, and from its concomitants, which have a powerful 
 effect. First, the spirit of personality which every savage 
 carries with him to war ; a selfishness founded on this, that 
 every individual of the tribe, from the land being in com 
 mon, considers the game in general as the fundamental 
 means of his own subsistence, and consequently deems 
 every thing that tends to destroy this as attacking or threat 
 ening his own life. Among savage clans, poor and few 
 in number, war directly endangers the existence of the 
 whole society, and of each of its members. Its first effect 
 is to famish, its next to exterminate the tribe. It is equally 
 natural therefore, that every member should identify him 
 self intimately with the whole, and display an energy car 
 ried to the utmost, since it is stimulated by the extreme 
 necessity of defence and self-preservation. A Second rea 
 son of the animosity of these wars is the violence of pas 
 sions, such as the point of honour, resentment, and ven 
 geance, with which every warrior is inspired. The num 
 ber of combatants being small, every one is exposed to the 
 eyes both of his friends and enemies. Every act of cowar 
 dice is punished with infamy, the near consequence of 
 which is death ; and courage is stimulated by the rivalry 
 of companions in arms, the desire of revenging the death 
 of some friend or relative, and every personal motive of 
 hatred and pride, ottenmore powerful than self-preservation." 
 
 " The third reason is the nature of these wars> in which 
 quarter is neither given, received, nor expected. The least 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. H9 
 
 danger is the loss of life, for, if the savage be only wounded CHAPTER 
 
 or made prisoner, the sole prospect before him is that of 
 
 being scalped immediately, or burned alive and eaten in a 
 few days. His fortitude under torments is stimulated by 
 despair, and the sense of the impossibility of saving himself 
 by retraction or weakness. He resembles those animals-, 
 which, attacked in their last retreat, defend themselves 
 without any hope of escape ; and we know what prodigious 
 efforts nature will then display in the weakest and most 
 timid. In the savage it is the accumulated action of fana 
 ticism and necessity : but a very interesting physiological 
 problem nevertheless remains still to be resolved, namely, 
 what is that singular state of the nerves, what that movement 
 of the electric fluid, by which sensibility is deadened, or ex 
 alted to such a pitch as ta annihilate pain ? The last mo 
 tive to ferocity in the wars of the savages, and in their entire 
 character, is the whole system of their education, and the 
 direction which parents endeavour to give their inclina 
 tions from the earliest age." 
 
 " Prom their infant state they endeavour to promote an 
 independent spirit. They are never known to beat or scold 
 them, lest the martial disposition which is to adorn their 
 future life and character, should be weakened. It is to pro 
 cure more intrepid defenders that mothers thus spoil their 
 children, who, at some future day, according to the general 
 practice of these people, will despise, domineer over, and 
 even beat them. Sometimes they spend their evenings in 
 relating the noble deeds of their relatives, or of the heroes 
 of their tribe : how in their lives they killed, scalped, and. 
 
150 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER burned such a number of their enemies : or how, having 
 
 in 
 * ' had the misfortune to be taken prisoners,, they endured the 
 
 most horrible torments with the proudest bravery. At other 
 times they entertain them with the domestic quarrels of the 
 tribe, their causes of complaint against some of their neigh 
 bours, and the precautions to be taken to revenge them 
 opportunely. Thus they give them at once lessons of dis 
 simulation, cruelty, hatred, discretion, vengeance, and blood- 
 thirstiness. They never fail of seizing the first opportunity 
 of a prisoner of war, to have their children present at the 
 punishment, to tutor them in the art of tormenting, and to 
 make them partakers in the canibal feast, with which these 
 scenes terminate. It is obvious that such lessons must make a 
 profound impression on a young mind. Accordingly their 
 constant effect is to give the young savages an intractable, 
 imperious, rebellious disposition, averse to all contradiction 
 and restraint, yet dissembling, knavish, and even polite ; for 
 the savages have a code of politeness, not less established than 
 that of a court. In short, they contrive to make them unite 
 all the qualities necessary to attain the object of their pre 
 vailing passion, the thirst of revenge and bloodshed. Their 
 frenzy in the last point is a subject of astonishment and 
 affright to all the whites who have lived with them/' 
 
 et On the whole it may be said, that the virtues of the 
 savages are reducible to intrepid courage in clanger, unsha 
 ken firmness amid tortures, contempt of pain and death, 
 and patience under all the anxieties and distresses of life. 
 Doubtless these are useful qualities ; but they are all con- 
 
I 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. J51 
 
 fined to the individual, all selfish, and without any benefit CHAPTER 
 to the society. Farther they are proofs of a life truly 
 wretched, and a social state so depraved or null, that a man, 
 neither finding nor hoping any assistance from it, is obliged 
 to wrap himself up in despair, and endeavour to harden 
 himself against the strokes of fate. In pursuing my inves 
 tigation I do not find that I am led to more advantageous 
 ideas of the liberty of the savage. On the contrary, I see 
 in him only the slave of his wants, and of the freaks of a 
 sterile and parsimonious nature. Pood he has not at hand : 
 rest is not at his command : he must run, weary himself, 
 and endure hunger and thirst, heat and cold, and all the 
 inclemency of the elements and seasons ; and as the igno 
 rance, in which he has been bred, gives him, or leaves him 
 a multitude of false and irrational ideas, and superstitious 
 prejudices, he is likewise the slave of a number of errors 
 and passions, from which civilized man is exempted, by the 
 science and knowledge of every kind which an improved 
 state of society has produced."* 
 
 With the affectation of insensibility under the most tremen 
 dous sufferings the apparent apathy of the savages, in the 
 concerns of life in general, seems to have connexion. They 
 express no surprise at the sight of any object, howsoever 
 new or extraordinary, no joy at the meeting of the nearest 
 relatives, nor grief at their departure, and receive both good 
 and bad news with seeming indifference. Howsoever fa 
 mished, they betray no symptom of hunger; but, whea 
 
 * Volney, p. 446469. 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER arrived at the huts of their friends where they expect their 
 
 cravings to be satisfied, they sit in apparent ease, wailing 
 
 patiently, without asking for any, till food be offered them, 
 Consonant w r ith their habitually affected apathy is the gra 
 vity of their deportment. They maintain a serious and 
 solemn air, at least before strangers. They never interrupt 
 any person in speaking, and they in general behave with a 
 kind of politeness, which shews a habit of avoiding to give 
 offence. They are hospitable in a high degree, sharing un 
 reservedly their food with visitants to the last morsel : but 
 this may be ascribed in great measure to their improvident 
 disposition, as they are apt to consume with a thoughtless pro- 
 digality the provisions of the day, without any regard to the 
 danger of posterior famine. Their prodigality is accompa 
 nied by an indolence, from which they can only be roused by 
 the calls of hunger, or the thirst of revenge, in which case 
 they display the most vigorous persevering exertions. From 
 indolence and a want of a sense of decency they are filthy in 
 their persons, huts, and food, and commonly swarm with 
 vermine, which they eat as a delicacy as fast as they can 
 catch them. 
 
 The insensibility, which the savages affect under their own 
 sufferings, is real with respect to the sufferings of others. 
 The feelings of compassion appear to be wholly strangers 
 to their breasts. Of the treatment of their prisoners I have 
 spoken already. A cruelty characteristic of savage man 
 ners is also displayed in the treatment of females, to whom 
 is consigned the carrying of burdens, and every other spe 
 cies of drudgery ; while the men disdain to carry any thing 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 153 
 
 except their arms, and never lend assistance to alleviate the CHAPTER 
 
 . in. 
 
 hardships of the weaker sex. They are liable besides to 
 
 various maltreatment, to be unmercifully beaten, maimed, 
 and even murdered, by their brutal husbands. Hence fre 
 quently mothers, to save their female offspring from a life 
 of such misery, extinguish the vital spark immediately at 
 the birth. Inured to cruel treatment, these females are 
 cruel in their turn. To join with frantic rage in the tor 
 turing of a prisoner, and in the killing of a captive woman 
 or child, by their own hands, they feel a quite favourite 
 amusement. The appearance indeed of pain, or distress of 
 any kind, affords commonly a subject of enjoyment, or mirth 
 and laughter, to both sexes. From their inferiority in 
 strength and courage women are accounted inferior beings. 
 That no value is set on female chastity may partly perhaps 
 have arisen from this principle. Licentious amours in her 
 years of celibacy are not at all regarded as faults in a fe 
 male. At some of the feasts, at least among the more 
 southern tribes in this region, the most immodest exhibi 
 tions are made, of the intercourse between the sexes, in the 
 view of all the company. Men prostitute their wives, 
 without scruple, to strangers. This is a usual act of hos 
 pitality to guests. Yet if a wife indulges a galant without 
 her husband's permission, she is liable to be most cruelly 
 punished by her savage lord, who perhaps bites the nose 
 from her face, or puts her to death. Polygamy is in gene 
 ral practice, and the exchanging of wives between man and 
 man is also usual. 
 
 u 
 
154 
 
 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA* 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 Customs, 
 
 Among the customs of the people of whom I am treating 
 
 is the ceremony of marriage, which varies in different tribes, 
 
 but the most general mode appears to be the following. 
 
 After a feast on the occasion, the two persons intended to 
 
 be joined in matrimony stand holding a wand about four 
 
 feet long, at opposite extremities, in the presence of three 
 
 or four males and as many females. When they have made 
 
 a declaration of their affection and intention, the wand is 
 
 broken into pieces, in number equal to that of the witnesses, 
 
 of whom each takes a piece, and preserves it with great 
 
 care. When they determine on a divorce, the witnesses, in 
 
 the presence of a company assembled for the business, 
 
 throw these pieces into the fire, by which ceremony the 
 
 union is considered as dissolved. At weddings, and on 
 
 other occasions, dancing is a custom. Different dances are 
 
 appropriated to different affairs, and these again vary in the 
 
 different tribes ; but to convey to readers a clear conception 
 
 of the differences would perhaps be impossible, and of little 
 
 utility. The dance of the pipe, which is performed at the 
 
 arrival of ambassadors of peace from a hostile clan, or on 
 
 the passage of an eminent stranger through their villages, 
 
 is the most pleasing to Europeans, as being attended with 
 
 more graceful movements, or less violent gestures, than 
 
 others. The dance of war, exhibited in preparing for a 
 
 hostile expedition, or after its completion, is terrific in the 
 
 extreme, as its motions are designed to represent the modes 
 
 of killing, scalping, and other acts of ferocity, accompanied 
 
 by those hideous yells which they raise in real combat, 
 
 while their weapons are so brandished, that to avoid being 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 155 
 
 wounded by one another requires expertness or address in CHAPTER 
 the highest degree. Women in general are excluded from 
 joining with the men in dances, but they have some appro 
 priated to their sex, which they perform apart. 
 
 The pipe of peace, called calumet, which is smoked with 
 the most solemn formality at the settling of pacific treaties, 
 or at the reception of friendly strangers, consists of a bowl 
 of red marble, and a wooden stem about four feet long, cu 
 riously painted with hieroglyphics, and adorned with the 
 most beautiful feathers of birds. The decorations are dif 
 ferent in the different tribes, which are easily distinguished 
 at first sight, of their calumets. When a treaty of peace 
 is concluded, a painted hatchet or club is buried in the 
 ground, to denote that all annimosities have ceased between 
 
 o 
 
 the contending parties. Treaties are recorded by belts of 
 wampum. The substance thus named is the inside of a shell 
 called the clam, found in the Atlantic, on the coast of North 
 America. At present this is sent to England, where it is 
 manufactured into beads, which are sent back, and sold to 
 the savages. The beads are of two sorts, the white and 
 the violet coloured, or purple. The latter, which are es 
 teemed equivalent in value to their weight in silver, are 
 more esteemed. They are sometimes sewed, in various ar 
 rangements, on broad belts of leather, but are more 
 commonly formed into strings on thongs drawn through 
 them, ten, twelve, or more of which, according to the 
 importance of the business compose a belt. These 
 
156 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER belts are produced at particular periods, and the trea- 
 : ties, of which they are the memorials, are severally recapi 
 tulated, for the recording of them in the memory. The 
 customs which regulate the giving of proper names, for the 
 designation of individuals, appear not clearly explicable. 
 Children commonly bear the name of the mother, not of the 
 father, as the parentage cannot be so doubtful on the female 
 side. The name also of the tribe or band, which is mostly that 
 of some animal, is generally retained Appellations or titles 
 are, besides, conferred on chiefs and distinguished warriors, 
 after their arrival at the age of maturity, which bear a refe 
 rence to the hieroglyphic mark of their families, or to their 
 superior abilities or exploits. At funerals they inter without 
 burning, and commonly destroy all the personal property 
 of the deceased. In mourning they cut short the hair, and 
 blacken the face with charcoal. 
 
 Among the arts of the savages of North America we may 
 perhaps reckon that by which they find their way through 
 forests, swamps, and other pathless wilds. In this they 
 are by some supposed to surpass all other people on our 
 globe : at least they are doubtless surpassed by none. The 
 point at which they aim, though hundreds of miles distant, 
 they arrive at by a direct or undeviating course. This exr 
 pertness, so surprising to Europeans, is doubtless the result 
 of early and incessant habit, and of an undistracted atten 
 tion. Among the phenomena, by the observation of which 
 they distinguish the different points of the compass, is the 
 appearance of the trees. The bark, on the northwestern 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 15? 
 
 side, exposed to piercing winds from that quarter, is thicker CHAPTER 
 
 and harder than elsowhere on the tree, and of a different 
 
 colour. They shew not less expertness in the pursuit of 
 men and quadrupeds, whose traces they follow with astonish 
 ing sagacit). From their ability thus to traverse vast spaces 
 of land, in various directions, to the intended spots, we may 
 naturally suppose, which indeed we are informed to be the 
 fact, that they are in general well acquainted with the geo 
 graphy of their country, or the relative situations of its diffe 
 rent parts. Of the arts of reading and of writing they are 
 totally ignorant. Events are recorded in the memory, 
 which, in political transactions, is assisted by belts of wam 
 pum and some rude hieroglyphics. They reckon their 
 years by winters, or, as they term them, snows ; and the 
 number of days consumed in a journey they call so many 
 nights. They divide the year into twelve moons, or lunar 
 months, which they denominate from some circumstances 
 attendant on the seasons. Thus the moon of frogs has place 
 in May, and the moon of intense cold in January. An in 
 tercalary month, termed a lost moon, is occasionally added 
 when an aberration from the true or solar year becomes 
 strikingly evident, which is commonly observed at the end 
 of a period of thirty moons. 
 
 In medicine they are acquainted with some simples of 
 great efficacy ; but the powers of these are often frustrated 
 by superstition. Thus the patient is prevented from the 
 refreshment of sleep, or of any sort of repose, by the noise 
 of incessant rattles, employed to frighten away the malig- 
 
158 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER naiit spirit, who is imagined to be the author of the malady, 
 
 and to be continually on the watch to renew the aggression. 
 
 In some cases of distemper, particularly of the feverish 
 kinds, a mode of cure is practiced of the same nature with 
 the Russian manner of bathing, which sometimes causes 
 death, and sometimes recovery. The patient is thrown into 
 a violent perspiration in a heated hut, and thence suddenly 
 plunged into cold water or snow. They have instruments 
 of music, among which is a species of flute : but, instead of 
 regular tunes, they produce from them only wild or uncon 
 nected notes. Their mechanical arts are few and simple ; 
 but by time and attention they form some utensils in a neat 
 and curious manner. Thus baskets are made of so close a 
 contexture as to contain water, in the same manner as a pail 
 or bowl. Their weapons are often very nicely ornamented : 
 but the bow, except in remote parts toward the west, is from 
 commerce with Europeans, superseded by the gun. The 
 tomahawk, a peculiar weapon, is a hatchet of small size, to 
 which a pipe for the smoking of tobacco is often attached. 
 This, though they seldom suffer it to part from the hand, 
 they can throw with such dexterity as to hit a, small mark, 
 at the distance of ten yards, with the forepart, which pro^ 
 jects, and terminates in a sharp point. Their canoes, 
 which are constructed of the bark of the birch, the elm, and 
 other trees, bound firmly on a slight fratne-work of wood, 
 are remarkable for their lightness. A boat of this kind, 
 which carries twelve men on the water, may be carried by 
 one on the land. In such frail vessels, which bear a cargo 
 of a tun or more in weight, beside the crew, voyages are 
 
NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 
 
 performed of hundreds of miles, sometimes two or three 
 thousand, along the lakes and rivers of these immense re 
 gions. Other species of canoes are also in use, among 
 which are trunks of great trees hallowed into the form of 
 slender boats, and pointed at the extremities.* 
 
 159 
 
 CHAPTER 
 III. 
 
 * Beside the writings of travellers already quoted concerning the man* 
 ners, &c. of the Savage Americans, a multitude of others might be adduced, 
 as those of Carver, Long, Adair, Bernard Romans, Hearue, &c, &c. 
 
161 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 GREENLAND 
 
 IS of great, but unknown, dimensions, its extent to 
 the north* being yet unexplored, nor is it decided whether 
 it be entirely environed by water, but it is more probable 
 that it is joined on the northwest to the American continent, 
 and ought rather to be accounted an American than an 
 European region. Vast masses of dazzling icef fill the 
 surrounding seas, partly floating and partly fixt, and dis 
 playing a strange variety of fantastic forms. Islands innu 
 merable of various sizes border the coasts, which are deeply 
 
 * Navigators have sailed on its western side as far as the 78th degree of 
 latitude, and on the eastern as far as the 80th. 
 
 + The most noted field of fixt ice is that which is called the Eisblink or 
 Iceglance, situate on the western coast between the 62d and 63d degrees. 
 It is an high field of shining ice, resembling a vast arched bridge, extending 
 twenty-four miles in length and six in breadth across the mouth of an inlet. 
 Its glance in the air is seen like an Aurora Borealis at the distance of many 
 leagues, and its arches, through which the water returns in strong currents 
 at (he tide of ebb, are from 40 to 120 feet high. 
 
GREENLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER indented by many inlets. Its shores are generally high and 
 rocky, especially on the western side, and ttiere more espe 
 
 cially towards the south ; and the mountains, which every 
 where fill the land, rise close to the sea shores, craggy, 
 pointed, and of great elevation, their summits being visible 
 to mariners at the distance of forty leagues.* These moun 
 tains, and with them all the interior country, are covered 
 with perpetual ice and snow ; but the lower grounds on 
 the coasts appear in summer clothed with a kind of ver 
 dure, f Few brooks and no rivers water these rugged re 
 gions, and the interior country is totally uninhabited. 
 Qreenlanders dwell along the western coasts as far to the 
 north as the 75th degree of latitude, nor is it certainly known 
 whether any people subsist in these countries still nearer to 
 the pole. A few Danes are settled along the same coasts 
 as tar as the 71st degree; but the eastern coasts, tho gh 
 formerly open to navigators, and actually settled by a Nor 
 wegian colony in the ninth century, are now so blockaded 
 with ice as to be inaccessible to ships, and as a passage to 
 them by land from the western side through the icy moun 
 tains of the interior country, is also impracticable, it is not 
 
 * The Hiertatak or stag's horn, situate on the western coast about the 
 04th degree, and reckoned the highest mountain of Greenland, is seen at the 
 distance of 60 leagues at sea. 
 
 f The Norwegians, who discovered this country in the ninth century, 
 gave it the name of Greenland, because they affected to think that the easiern 
 coast, on which they first arrived, appeared more green than Iceland, from 
 which island they had last departed. 
 
GREENLAND. 16S 
 
 certainly known, whether these eastern shores have, at pre- CHAPTER 
 sent, any inhabitants or not. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Here, as in other places situate in high latitudes, two sea 
 sons only divide the year, the spring and autumn being ex 
 cluded That which is called the summer is commonly of 
 five months duration, from the beginning of May to the end 
 of September, during great part of which time about the 
 solstice there is continually day, for to the north of the arc 
 tic circle the sun remains many weeks together without 
 setting, and to the south it disappears but a few hours, and 
 then so strong a twilight reigns, that by its aid alone a man. 
 can see well enough within doors to read the smallest print 
 at midnight. The noontide heats in the longest days are 
 scorching, in calm weather and in places where the sun's 
 beams concentre, but in general the Greenland summer is 
 neither very warm nor comfortable. The snows remain 
 even on the shores until June, and begin to fall again in 
 August and September. Thick fogs envelope the coasts 
 from April to August ; and the cold emitted by the vast 
 masses of permanent ice is always chilling at night, or when 
 the sun is low in the horizon. The winter of seven months 
 duration is altogether rigorous, all being involved in depths 
 of ice and snow. The frost-smoke issues from the sea like 
 the smoke of an oven, and feels less cold to a man immersed 
 in it than the dry air around ; but when it is wafted into a 
 colder region of the atmosphere it is converted into the frost 
 shower, being frozen into small icy particles, which, driven 
 on land by the winds, bring with them a cutting cold almost 
 insupportable. The subtile snow dust, with which the air 
 
 x 2 
 
164 GREENLAND. 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER j g fl|j e( j wnen the snows are drifted by the winds, is not more 
 tolerable. Night with little interruption invests the skies 
 for some months, the sun but peeping two or three hours 
 above the horizon in the south, and not appearing at all for 
 many weeks together in the north ; but, besides the twi 
 lights, such is the brightness of the moon and stars, which 
 shine in those northern climes with superior lustre, and such 
 the splendor of the Aurora Borealis that a man can see well 
 enough in (he open air to read. The sea is generally open 
 notwithstanding the intense cold, permitting the Greenlan- 
 ders to pursue their occupations ot fishing and seal-hunting, 
 on which their subsistence depends ; but when it happens 
 that, for two or three weeks together, a continued sheet of 
 ice spreads from the shores many leagues over the sea, navi 
 gation is precluded, and famine is the consequence. The 
 parhelion or mock sun, so frequently seen in arctic climates, 
 is particularly often seen in Greenland, as also the halo or 
 luminous circle about the moon. It is remarkable that 
 when the winter is uncommonly severe in the temperate cli 
 mates of Europe, it is mostly uncommonly mild in Green 
 land, and vice versa. It is also remarkable that the springs 
 or wells in Greenland rise and fall regularly with the tide, 
 being higher at the tide of flood than the tide of ebb, and 
 highest of ail at spring tides. Lightning is rarely seen, 
 thunder more rarely heard, and calm weather predominates, 
 and that more in proportion as the country approaches the 
 pole, but when storms come, which is generally in autumn, 
 they blow with irresistible fury. 
 
 4 
 
 The earth in these regions, rendered sterile by the cold, 
 yields hardly any vegetable for the subsistence of 
 
GREENLAND. 165 
 
 corn has been frequently sown, and as frequently grown CHAPTER 
 up with a promising appearance, but was always destroyed ' 
 
 by the frost before it could attain maturity. Some low 
 shrubs appear, but the country is entirely destitute of trees, 
 \vhichdefect kind providence has in some measure supplied 
 by drift wood, which is conveyed to the coasts by the winds 
 and waves. Some spots of ground upon the coasts, acci 
 dentally manured about the dwellings of the Greenlanders, 
 produce grass of so nutricious a quality that it has 
 fatted a few sheep, brought from Denmark^ to an unconv 
 mon degree, in an uncommonly short time ; but in general 
 the surface is barren sand or stones instead of soil, and moss 
 of various kinds the predominant growth, and in advancing 
 towards the pole nature wears gradually a more barren 
 aspect, until at length all vegetation ceases, and nothing 
 meets the eye but naked rocks. The animal productions of 
 the land are also scanty ; besides a few rein deer, hares are 
 found which are white all the year, and a kind of partridges 
 called snow hens, which are grey in summer and white in 
 winter ; but the two last are not esteemed as food by the 
 Greenlanders, who prefer to them the flesh of foxes. The 
 only tame animals are dogs, which howl instead of barking, 
 are like wolves in appearance, and are mostly white ; they 
 are chiefly used as beasts of burden ; from four to ten of 
 them, harnessed to a sledge, draw the Greenlander in state 
 along the ice. But, to compensate in some degree for the 
 penury of the land, the seas are prolific, and furnish great 
 numbers of water fowl, fish, and seals, which constitute al 
 most the whole su Insistence of the Greenlanders, and in the 
 catching- of which they display surprising feats of dexterity. 
 
J66 GREENLAND, 
 
 CHAPTER The king of Denmark claims the dominion of these frozen 
 L deserts, arid some of his subjects from Denmark and Nor 
 way are settled on the western coasts, who trade in seals' 
 blubber, skins, and eider down ; vessels also from different 
 European nations, particularly Holland, are em ploy 'd in 
 the Greenland seas, every summer, in the whale fishery.* 
 
 The Greenlanders, who inhabit the western coasts, and 
 who are the same kind of people with the Esquimaux on 
 the opposite coast of America, have been computed not 
 much to exceed 7000, arid their number decreases yearly .<f- 
 They are of low stature, most of them not reaching to the 
 
 * The whale, though a fish, has red warm blood like that of land animals, 
 and, like them, is furnished with lungs for breathing, brings forth its young 
 alive, and suckles them. Of this fish there are many Tarieties, but that 
 which is called the black or Greenland whale is generally from fifty to eighty 
 feet long, and some have been found from one hundred to two hundred 
 feet. It is not a fish of prey like some other species of the whale, but feeds 
 on a whitish slime, which floats on the surface of the sea. Its throat is not 
 more than four inches wide, and its mouth is destitute of teeth, but its upper 
 jaw is furnished with about 700 barders, or blades, of which the whalebone 
 is made. These barders are shaped like scythes, hang down like the pipes 
 of an organ, ten or twelve feet in length, and are received into the under 
 jaw, hollowed for that purpose, as into a sheath. These whales abound most 
 between Spitzberg, Nova Zembla, John May's Island, and Greenland, 
 where near four hundred ships have been employed in one summer in pursuit 
 of them. 
 
 i Their number in the year 1730, was said to be 30.000, and in the year 
 1746, 20,000; so that they decreased one-third in 16 years; but the do 
 orcase afterwards semed more rapid. 
 
GREENLAND. 167 
 
 height of 6ve feet, and have also the appearance of imbe- CHAPTER 
 cility, but are notwithstanding active and strong. The ' 
 
 colour of the face is olive, arid the body all over is dark 
 grey. The hair of the head is universally long, strait, 
 strong, and coal black, but the beard is very thin, it being 
 the custom to pull it out by the roots. The head is large ; 
 the face commonly broad and flat ; the cheek bones high ; 
 the cheeks round and plump ; the eyes small and black, 
 but void of sparkling fire ; the nose not flat, but small and 
 projecting a little : the mouth commonly little and round, 
 the under lip somewhat thicker than the upper The hands 
 and feet are small, soft, and clammy to the touch like bacon: 
 the rest of the limbs large : the breasts high, and shoulders 
 broad, especially in women, all of whom are obliged, from 
 their early years, to carry heavy burdens, and so robust are 
 these females, that one of them commonly carries a load for 
 some miles, which would be almost sufficient for two Eu 
 ropeans to lift. The bodies of both men and women are 
 fleshy, fat, and full of blood. Their blood is unctuous, hot, 
 and dense ; the sieam emitted from their bodies in perspi 
 ration is hot and smells like train ; and the vapour, which 
 they breathe out from their lungs, is hot and dense, inso 
 much that when many of them are assembled in one apart- 
 mont, even in winter, an European can scarcely bear the 
 heat, or breathe tor the thick exhalation. They suffer the 
 rigorous cold of their climate with but thin covering, and 
 with their heads* and necks generally bare ; and they sit in 
 their houses mostly without any covering at ail except their 
 breeches. 
 
168 GREENLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER The Greenlanders are not very lively, much less addicted 
 
 ~~ to extravagant effusions of mirth, but are cheerful when 
 
 assembled in companies, and live together in surprising 
 harmony without any form of government or religion, the 
 law of reputation being the only restraint on their morals. 
 Whatever superstitious fancies prevail in their minds, it is 
 certain there is no form of religious worship among them, 
 excepting the Christian converts of the Moravian brethren, 
 who have with wonderful perseverance brought some 
 hundreds of these poor people to the profession of the 
 Christian religion. Though they are very hospitable and 
 courteous to strangers, they have much pride, the consequence 
 of much ignorance, and value themselves much above the 
 Europeans, concerning whom they talk with much ridicule 
 in conversation among themselves. Their names for num 
 bers are continued no farther than five, but, by reckoning 
 the fingers of both hands, and toes of both feet, some make 
 a shift to number twenty, which is the extent of their arith 
 metic. They are extremely dirty in their way of living; 
 their common everyday-clothes drip with grease, and swarm 
 with lice, which they crush between their teeth when they 
 catch them : their vessels are no otherwise cleansed than by 
 the tongues of (heir dogs ; and when any of them presents a 
 piece of meat to a person whom he means to treat with par 
 ticular politeness, he previously licks it over clean with his 
 tongue. Few of the Greenlanders live many years in one 
 place, but remove in the summer from one part of the coast 
 to another, fixing their winter quarters in whatever place 
 seems most convenient. Among them, as in other rude 
 nations, the carrying of burdens and other laborious works 
 
GREENLAND. 
 
 are left to the women, the providing of food by fishing and CHAPTER 
 seal-hunting- being the province of the men. 
 
 That which may be called the shirt of the Greenland- 
 ers is made of the skins of birds, the feathers inward : 
 over this is a kind of vest mostly of seals' skin, and over 
 that a coat of seals' skin, which is sewed up close to 
 the chin, without any opening either before or behind, 
 but is drawn down over the head like a shirt, the arms 
 being thrust up into it. The breeches are of seals' skin, 
 very short both above and below. The stockings are of 
 the skin of young seals found in the bellies of their dams, 
 and the shoes of seal skin bound over the instep by a thong 
 which passes under the sole beneath. Over all, the men 
 wear a large outside garment of seals' skin called a water 
 coat, furnished with bone buttons when they go to sea. 
 The dress of the women is nearly the same, but the nurses 
 wear an outside garment bound round the waist with a 
 belt, so wide behind that the child has room to lie within it 
 at the woman's back, and is prevented by the belt from 
 falling through. Here the infant tumbles entirely naked 
 without any other swaddling clothes or cradle. The men 
 cut their hair short, but the women wear it long. 
 
 Tlie Greenlanders dwell during the winter in houses, and 
 during the summer in tents. 
 
 The houses are built on steep rocks or elevated grounds, 
 where they may not be incommoded by the afflux of water 
 when the snows dissolve. There is no part of the house 
 
 T 
 
170 GREENLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER under ground, and it is raised no higher than barely to ad- 
 
 "" mit a man to stand upright. These habitations are near 
 
 twelve feet wide, and of various lengths, up to seventy feet, 
 in proportion to the number of families crowded together in 
 one house, which is from three to ten. The walls are com 
 posed of broad stones and earth, and the roof of rafters laid 
 across a longitudinal beam, which is supported by postsdriven 
 in the ground midway between the side walls. On the raf 
 ters are laid billberry bushes, over them sods, and over these 
 fine earth. These dwellings have neither door nor chim 
 ney, but the use of both is supplied by a vaulted passage 
 from twelve to eighteen feet long, made of stones and earth, 
 entering into the middle of the house, and so low that a 
 man must creep to enter. On the same side are windows 
 two feet square, made of guts of seals or maws of fish ; and 
 under them a long bench for the accommodation of strangers, 
 which is esteemed the most honorable seat in the house. 
 Half the floor opposite to the windows is raised a foot higher 
 than the rest with boards and skins, and divided into as 
 many distinct apartments as there are families, resembling 
 horses' stalls, and separated by skins drawn from the posts, 
 which support the roofing beam, to the wall. The only 
 fires ever lighted in these houses are lamps, one of which 
 stands constantly burning at the partition post of each fa 
 mily, cut out of soft bastard marble, about a foot long, in 
 form of an half moon, filled with train of seals, and furnished 
 with dry rnoss instead of cotton, which burns so well, that, 
 from the junction of so many lamps, the house is sufficiently 
 lighted and sufficiently wanned. Over each lamp hangs 
 
GREENLAND. 
 
 kettle of the same stuff, in shape like an oblong box, a foot CHAPTER 
 long and half a foot wide, in which their victuals are boiled. 
 
 The boats of the Greenlanders are of two kinds, and 
 serve quite different purposes. The umiak or woman's 
 boat is four or five feet wide, three feet deep, and from 
 thirty-six to fifty-four feet long. It is flat bottomed and 
 sharp at both ends. Its frame consists of a keel, ribs, up 
 right posts, and laths joined together with whalebone, and 
 it is covered with seals' skins. It is rowed only by women, 
 and in it the families and effects of the Greenlanders are 
 transported from one part of the coast to another, sometimes 
 three or four hundred leagues. 
 
 The rajack or man's boat accommodates one person 
 only. It is shaped like a weaver's shuttle, eighteen feet 
 long, hardly a foot and a half wide, and hardly a foot deep. 
 It is* composed of a slender keel, longitudinal laths, and 
 transverse hoops, which go round the sides and bottom, 
 joined with whalebone. It is covered with seals' skins, 
 which enclose it on all sides like a bag, leaving only one 
 round hole in the upper part or deck, barely sufficient to 
 admit the body of the rower, who sits with his legs stretched 
 along the bottom. This hole is secured by a rim of bone, 
 into which the rower tucks his water coat so tightly, that 
 though billows break over him no water can enter the boat. 
 He holds the middle of his oar with both hands at once, and 
 strikes the water on both sides alternately, sailing at the 
 rate of more than twenty leagues in the day, and making 
 
 y 2 
 
 
173 GREENLAND, 
 
 CHAPTER his way through stormy waves where an European boat 
 . could not subsist, and if he be overset, so that his head 
 
 hangs down perpendicularly in the water, he restores him 
 self and his boat to the proper posture by a swing of his- 
 oar. Armed with harpoons he pursues the seals which are 
 the chief and favourite food of these people, and when occa 
 sion requires, he carries his little boat across a head-land or 
 field of ice, and launches it again at the other side. 
 
173 
 
 SPITZBERGEN y 
 
 DISCOVERED by Sir Hugh Willoughby, an English navi- CHAPTER 
 gator, in the year 1553, and improperly called by some * 
 New Greenland, and East Greenland, seems to consist of 
 one great island, and many of smaller dimensions, whose 
 range towards the north is not fully ascertained, but as none 
 of them advance farther towards the south than the ?5th 
 degree of latitude, the rigours of their winter are extreme, 
 and the land as bare and barren as the northern parts of 
 Greenland lying, between the same parallels of latitude, pro 
 ducing no species of tree or shrub, but supplied with drift 
 wood from the sea, and totally destitute of human inhabit- 
 antSj but yielding subsistence to rein-deer and foxes, and 
 particularly visited by the white bear,* which is an unwel 
 come visitant also in Greenland. The coasts are high, and 
 
 * The white bear is a predacious animal, extremely fierce and formi 
 dable, inhabiting the arctic regions, particularly Spitzbergen. It is amphi 
 bious, and is seen chiefly on the fields of ice where it goes in pursuit of seals. 
 It is much larger than any other species of the bear, its body being about 
 the same size with that of an ox. Its head is long like a dog's, and its hair 
 is long and soft like wool. 
 
174 SPITSBERGEN. 
 
 CHAPTER in many places inaccessible, especially on the west, and the 
 face of the country is extremely rugged 3 and full of dusky 
 
 mountains, which are highest also on the west, and, like 
 those of Greenland, are generally so steep and sharp pointed, 
 that the ice and snow, which all the year fills the vallies, 
 cannot rest on them. The surrounding seas swarm with 
 whales, seals, and other marine animals, which are the ob 
 ject of pursuit to great numbers of European vessels, chiefly 
 Dutch, which in summer visit these inhospitable coasts, 
 whose sovereignty is vainly claimed by the king of Den 
 mark. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 175 
 
 Site Rivers Face Seasons History Vegetables- 
 Animals Fossils Commerce Boats Area Division 
 Population Inhabitants Government Religion Man 
 ners Customs Travelling Towns. 
 
 EXTENDING along the vast river Saint Lawrence, from its 
 mouth in the sea of Newfoundland, westward to lake Wini- 
 pig, may be considered as having its natural boundary, on 
 the northern side, in a ridge of highlands, which winds from 
 the coast of Labrador in prodigious length toward the west, 
 separating the waters which flow to Hudson's gulf from 
 those which are received into the channel of the Saint 
 Lawrence. Another ridge of highlands, on the southern 
 side of that vast river, stretching southwestward, was de 
 clared, in a treaty with the United States in the year 1783, 
 to be the boundary of Canada on that side, so far toward 
 the west as its occurrence with the forty-fifth degree of 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Site. 
 
170 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Rivers. 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 northern latitude : thence the bounding line was conceived 
 to proceed westward along- the stream of the Saint Lawrence, 
 and through the chain of the great lakes Ontario, Erie, Hu- 
 j-on, and Superior. The limit most natural however, on its 
 whole southern side, would be the stream of this huge river 
 and its chain of lakes. 
 
 To the Saint Lawrence Canada owes chiefly its import 
 ance. Of this mighty stream, its immense lakes, and its 
 stupendous cataract at Niagara, I have treated in the gene 
 ral view. With a breadth of from ninety miles, at its 
 mouth, to fifteen, at a greater distance from the ocean, and 
 with a depth of from forty to ten or eighteen fathoms, this 
 river is safely navigable by great ships of the line as far as 
 Quebec, through a length of four hundred miles, by ships 
 of three or four hundred tuns, near two hundred farther, 
 to Montreal, and by boats carrying two tuns several hun 
 dred miles higher, except some short interruptions which 
 can be easily remedied by canals.* A great number of 
 islands many of which have a beautiful appearance, are con 
 tained in the Saint Lawrence, which, above Quebec, spreads 
 wide in some parts, and in others contracts into a narrow 
 and profound channel. One of the largest of the islands is 
 that of Orleans, near thirty miles long and ten broad, 
 near Quebec city. 
 
 The country is intersected by a multitude of streams, 
 which are received into the Saint Lawrence on its northern 
 
 * Gray's Letters on Canada, 8vo. London, 1809, p. 37, 69. Weld's 
 Trayels in North America, 8vo, London, 1799, vol. 2, p. 5658. 
 
CANADA. 177 
 
 side. Many lakes of various sizes ate formed by these, CHAPTER 
 
 or connected with them, and many of the rivers are navi- 
 
 gable by boats or canoes. The most frequented of the 
 anxiliar streams is the Utawas, or grand river, the naviga 
 tion of which, however, is so interrupted, that in the course 
 of two hundred and eighty miles not less than thirty-two 
 portages occur, places where the goods and boat must be 
 carried on land from one part of the channel to another. 
 The Chaudiere and Montmorenci, which fall into the Saint 
 Lawrence, the former on the southeastern side, about seven 
 miles above Quebec, the latter on the northwestern, about 
 the same distance below that city, are noted only on account 
 of the cataracts which they form About three miles above 
 its influx, the Chaudiere, in a stream two hundred and fifty 
 feet in breadth, falls perpendicularly from a height of a 
 hundred and thirty feet, between very steep and lofty banks 4 , 
 amid a scenery wildly picturesque. On the quantity of 
 water in the channel however depends in great measure the 
 grandeur of the fall, which in times of flood appears awfully 
 majestic. The stream of the Montmorency, only fifty feet 
 broad in its channel, is so broken at its fall by rocks, and 
 thus dilated, as to appear much broader. The height of 
 the cataract, in which the water falls almost perpendicularly, 
 is found to be two hundred and forty-six feet. The stream, 
 in its descent from such an elevation, appearing like vast 
 sheets of snow, forms a fine object to mariners in the Saint 
 Lawrence, to whom it is clearly visible, as having place 
 almost at the influx of the Montmorenci.* 
 
 * Gray 8799. Weld, vol. 1, p. 319, 357360* 
 
 2 
 
178 CANADA 
 
 CHAPTER Canada may in great part be considered as the valley of 
 the Saint Lawrence. This is particularly the case with 
 
 Lower Canada, one of the two provinces into which this 
 great country is politically divided, by a line imagined to 
 run northwestward along the Utawas river. Here the 
 country is enclosed between two very long ridges of high 
 lands, from which several branches extend quite to the Saint 
 Lawrence, forming- either promontories, or lengthened 
 banks of great height and steepness. In other parts level 
 spaces of various extent intervene between the highlands 
 and the river. The province of Upper Canada, lying on 
 the northern side of the Saint Lawrence and its vast lakes, 
 is in general a level country, consisting of extensive plains 
 bounded by hills of not a great elevation. In Canada in 
 general the natural features are gigantic, and fill llie mind, 
 at first view, with ideas of grandeur : the vast and admirably 
 majestic river interspersed with beautifully verdant islands ; 
 the immense expanses of clear water in the lakes, diversified 
 in like manner with islands interspersed ; the stupendous 
 cataracts, particularly the unequalled fall of Niagara; the 
 lofty chains of mountains, clothed with wood, visible to 
 those who sail along the river ; and the stately and almost 
 boundless forest, from which comparatively very little space 
 has as yet been reclaimed by the industry of man. 
 
 The primeval forest indeed, from the mouth of the Saint 
 Lawrence, through a great extent of territory up its chan 
 nel, still, in the beginning of the nineteenth century, occu- 
 ' pies all to the river's brink ; and even farther upward, where 
 
 colonization and culture have .place, "the strip of cultivated 
 
CANADA. 179 
 
 i 
 
 ground, viewed from the river, is so small, compared with CHAPTER 
 
 the high wood-covered mountains in the back-ground of the 
 
 picture, that it is scarcely enough to take off the appearance 
 of complete savage wildness. The sombre hue of the pine 
 forest is a strong contrast to the lively verdure of the corn 
 fields."* The narrow border of cultived land is however in 
 some places thickly inhabited. " Nearly all the settlements 
 in Lower Canada are situated close upon the borders of the 
 rivers For several leagues below Montreal the houses 
 stand ' closely together, that it appears as if it were but 
 one village, which extended the whole way. It is pleasing 
 beyond description to behold one of these villages opening 
 to the view, as you sail round a point of land covered with 
 trees, the houses of it overhanging the river, and the spires 
 of tli e churches sparkling through the groves with which 
 they are encircled, before the rays of the setting sun. The 
 scenery in various parts is very fine. It is impossible, ia- 
 deed, but that there must be a variety of pleasing views along 
 a noble river; the Saint Lawrence, winding for hundreds 
 of miles through a rich country, diversified with rising 
 grounds, woodlands, and cultivated plains;"f In Upper 
 Canada, which promises at no very distant time a more nu 
 merous population, as being favoured with a more fertile 
 soil and a warmer temperature, extensive scenes of smiling 
 culture may in future ages be expected ; but as yet the colo 
 nized spots bear to the dreary wilderness a quite diminutive 
 proportion. 
 
 * Gray, p. 37. t Weld, Yol. 1, 335, 336. 
 
180 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Seasons. 
 
 In Canada are felt the extremes of heat and cold, but the 
 air is in general dry and salubrious. In the lower province 
 the winter commences in November, and the earth remains 
 covered, during six months, with snow, the general depth 
 of which is about from four to seven feet above the surface 
 of the ground. The Saint Lawrence itself is frozen quite 
 over above Quebec ; but, opposite to that city, the opera 
 tions of the tide, and of the current rendered impetuous by 
 confinement, are such, as to prevent that circumstance from 
 taking place ofter.er commonly than once in ten years. Here, 
 as elsewhere in the northern climates, the cold acquires its 
 greatest rigour in January, when Fahrenheit's thermometer 
 falls sixty degrees below the freezing point, sometimes even 
 to that degree at, which mercury freezes : but in general the 
 medial temperature in this month and in December is 
 marked by twenty-two under the point of congelation. After 
 the falls of snow in the early part of winter, the sky is com 
 monly clear, the sunshine bright, and, except the cold, the 
 weather extremely pleasant, as in Russia : but sometimes a 
 temporary thaw takes place, which is attended with unplea 
 sant circumstances and much inconvenience. In May the 
 show disappears beneath a schorching sun, and summer, 
 with a rapid vegetation, succeeds, without an interval of 
 spring. In July and August the thermometer rises to eighty 
 degrees, and sometimes above ninety, sometimes to ninety- 
 six. The heat is more rnild in September, which seems to 
 be the pleasantest month, yet partakes more of the nature 
 of summer than of autumn. The latter season indeed ap 
 pears not, in Lower Canada to have any place. The frosts 
 begin to be felt in October; but the influence of the SUM 
 
CANADA. 
 
 still continues to be such as to render the air in the day- CHAPTER 
 
 V 
 
 time tolerably warm.* - 
 
 In Upper Canada the temperature partakes of that of 
 those territories of New York and Pensylvania which lie to 
 the west of the great Apallachian ridge, where the cold is 
 mitigated by a southerly wind, as I shall have occasion to 
 state in treating of the Virginian regions. The winter 
 therefore is shorter here than in the lower province, although, 
 from the superior elevation of the land, the cold might 
 naturally be expected to be greater. Thus at Niagara, the 
 highest part of the platform, the severity of the winter's cold 
 is felt only during about two months. Even at Montreal, 
 in Lower Canada, but in the vicinity of the Upper, the 
 duration of the snow is near two months shorter than at 
 Quebec. This diminution of cold in these countries has 
 been much promoted by the partial destruction of the 
 woods, by which avenues have been opened for the admis 
 sion of the warm southwesterly winds. Hence, from the 
 extension of colonial settlements, a still further diminution 
 may in future times be expected. Even throughout the 
 lower province the influence of this cause has already be 
 come evident, " since the period of the river's being closed 
 against navigation by the ice is near a month later than it 
 was when Canada was first colonized ; and instead of insu 
 ring vessels on condition of their leaving the river by the 
 end of November, as used to be specified in the beginning 
 
 * Gray, p. 244, 253256, 282, 299301, 312, 313. Weld, vol. I, 
 p. 389, 398. 
 
182 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V 
 
 History. 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 of the last century, the clause in the policies is now extended 
 to the 25th December."* The heat of the summer in 
 Upper Canada is said sometimes to raise the mercury in thi- 
 thermometer even above the hundredth degree. 
 
 The discovery of Canada is ascribed to Jacques Cartier, 
 a French mariner, who, in the year 1535, sailed up the great 
 river, to which he gave its name from having entered it on 
 the day dedicated to Saint Lawrence. Of the etymology of 
 Canada, the name of the country, we have no certain ac 
 count. No permanent settlement however was formed till 
 the year 1608, when Samuel de Champlain founded the city 
 of Quebec, in a situation most judiciously chosen. The 
 growth of the colony was slow, as it was much neglected 
 by the French government, and as the trade for furs, the 
 first great object of the colonists, was fettered by monopolies ; 
 beside that the hostilities of the Indians contributed greatly 
 to retard the progress of improvement. This progress was 
 also interrupted by hostilities with the English colonists, 
 who conquered the country in 1629, but restored it on a 
 treaty of pacification in 1632. In consequence of some at 
 tention given to its transatlantic subjects, by the court of 
 France, who sent thither a small force to awe the savages 
 in 1662, the colony assumed a more thriving aspect in the 
 latter part of the seventeenth century. Three expeditions, 
 planned for its conquest by the English, in 1690, 1709, and 
 1711, proved abortive,, the twp former by the treachery of 
 their Indian allies, the last by the misconduct of its con> 
 
 * Voltiey's View of the United States, 8?o. London, 1804, p. 151^ 210. 
 
CANADA, 
 
 183 
 
 mander, appointed by favouritism, without regard to m^rit, 
 by the villainous tory ministers of Queen Anne. Though 
 the Canadians escaped a conquest, their condition, after the 
 war which ended in 1714, was so miserable, that many of 
 them were furnished with no other apparel than the skins 
 of beasts, from their inability to purchase the manufactures 
 of Europe : but afterwards, from a long enjoyment of 
 peace with the English colonists and the Indians, the set 
 tlement attained a considerable degree of prosperity, inso 
 much that in the space of forty years it more than quadru 
 pled its population. The Indians had been conciliated by 
 the labours of the French missionaries, who, with ardent 
 and indefatigable zeal, had endeavoured to convert them to 
 the Roman Catholic religion, and by the condescending 
 manners of the colonists, many of whom had intermarried 
 with the savages, and adopted their modes of life. The 
 ambition of the French court, which had formed a bold and 
 insidious plan for the conquest of the English colonies in 
 America, kindled a new war, in which Canada was con 
 quered in 1759 by the arms of Britain. The heroic Wolfe, 
 the British commander, fell at Quebec, in the moment of a 
 victory, by which the contest in that country was decided. 
 The possession of all Canada, resigned by France in the 
 ensuing treaty of peace in 176$, has been since retained by 
 the British crown. 
 
 As the parts of this vast country as yet reclaimed by colo 
 nial labour are, in comparison of the whole, of trifling 
 extent, the indigenous are still the predominant products. 
 In the countless variety of useful trees, which compose an 
 
 CHAPTFR 
 V. 
 
 Vegetables; 
 
184 CANADA^ 
 
 CHAPTER immense continuous forest, are observed the beech, the oak, 
 
 y^ 
 
 the elrn, the ash, the pine, the sycamore, the chesnut, the 
 
 hiccory, the cedar, the maple, the cherry-tree, and the birch, 
 of each of which again different species are discovered. 
 The pride of the Canadian forest is the white pine, which 
 grows to the height of a hundred and twenty feet, with a 
 diameter of four. The oak is accounted excellent, superior 
 to the Scandinavian, yet, in durability, inferior to that of 
 Eughnd. As this species of timber is never found other 
 wise than straight in this country, no knees of ships can be 
 made from it ; but the roots of the pine are applied to that 
 purpose. The species of maple, which yields a saccharine 
 sap grows here in great plenty. The sap, extilling from a 
 gash, or hole, made in the tree, and received in vessels 
 placed beneath for the purpose, is boiled till the aqueous 
 parts evaporate. The residuum is a cake of coarse sugar, 
 capable of being manufactured into as fine a sort as that of 
 the cane. Each tree, with management, is capable of fur 
 nishing five pounds of sugar annually during twenty years. 
 Two sorts of this tree are found in Canada, the one growing 
 in low or swampy ground, the other in more elevatea or 
 dry situations. The juice of the former is more copious, 
 but less rich in the quantity of sugar procurable from it. 
 Among the indigenous fruits are very fine raspberries, which 
 abound in the woods, and sour grapes not much larger 
 than currants. Among the indigenous plants is the gin 
 seng, so highly valued by the Chinese. 
 
 The fruits of Europe, as apples, peaches, apricots, and 
 plumbs, thrive to perfection in the gardens, more especially 
 
CANADA. J85 
 
 at Montreal and in Upper Canada. As fine grapes for the CHAPTER 
 
 table as those of Portugal grow under the protection of ' 
 
 frames of glass. Gooseberries, currants, and other small 
 fruits, are in abundance. The soil, generally a loose earth 
 of a dark hue, ten or twelve inches deep, with a substratum 
 of cold clay, has proved very fertile in the kinds of grain 
 which have been cultivated in it, as maize, wheat, oats, and 
 barley : but the wheat alone, which is of an excellent quality, 
 more especially in the upper province, is sown in such 
 quantities as to be an article of exportation. The sort 
 commonly cultivated is that which is called spring wheat, 
 committed to the ground in May, and reaped in August or 
 September. The farmers in the lower province, descended 
 from the French, have as yet been slovenly, both in the 
 neglect of manure, though rnarl is abundant, and in 'the 
 cleaning of the grain, when thrashed. The tobacco of this 
 country is esteemed for its mildness, but the quantity 
 raised is very small. The soil is well adapted to the pro 
 duction df hops and hemp. The former have already fur 
 nished some small matter for exportation. The latter, the 
 culture of which is encouraged by government, would be 
 highly advantageous to Britain, if its growth should become 
 extensive.* What may be, in future times, the agricultural 
 products of this great arid fertile region, whose colony has 
 not as yet far emerged above an infantine state, we can only 
 conjecture. 
 
 * Weld, tol. 1, 379388. Gray, p. 150, 151, 198, 305 209. 
 
 A a 
 
186 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Animals. 
 
 The domestic quadrupeds and poultry of Europe have 
 been imported into Canada, and thrive in general. The 
 horses are spirited and remarkably hardy. Dogs, yoked 
 either singly, or in one or more pairs together, are applied 
 to the drawing of carts, and other wheeled carriages, in 
 summer, and sledges in winter. Various sorts and sizes of 
 these animals are used in drawing, each with a weight pro 
 portioned to its strength : but the strongest is a particular 
 breed, resembling what is called the dog of Newfoundland, 
 but broader across the loins, and with shorter and thicker 
 legs. The indigenous quadrupeds are in general the same 
 with those of the northwestern regions of America, already 
 noticed ; but here they have been reduced to a compara 
 tively diminutive number, since the establishment of a 
 colony on the banks of the Saint Lawrence, by the indefati 
 gable pursuit of the Indian hunters, for the furnishing of 
 furs and peltry to the demands of European merchants. 
 Sometimes vast numbers of beara migrate from the more 
 northern regions, through Canada, southward, crossing the 
 Saint Lawrence in its narrowest parts, particularly the straits 
 between the vast lakes. This kind of migration is always 
 accounted an infallible prognostic of excessive severity of 
 cold in the ensuing winter. Squirrels also sometimes, in 
 like manner, changing their places of abode, pass through 
 this country in prodigious numbers ; but their course is 
 sometimes northward, as well as in the opposite direction. 
 
 Also pigeons, resembling the wood-pigeon of Britain, but 
 smaller, are observed, commonly once in seven or eight 
 years, to migrate from the north to the south, passing over 
 
CANADA. 187 
 
 the Saint Lawrence and the lakes, in numbers so immense CHAPTER 
 
 as might be thought incredible. Land birds in the woods, """"" 
 
 and water fowl on the lakes and rivers, in a great variety 
 of species, are seen in vast numbers in summer ; but when 
 winter comes, they almost all disappear, as the frost pre 
 cludes them from the means of subsistence. Among the few 
 
 o 
 
 which remain in the winter is a species called by some the 
 spruce partridge, by others the pheasant, which procures its 
 food from the spruce fir. This species resembles the British 
 partridge in its external appearance, except, that it is larger; 
 and the British pheasant in the taste of its flesh. These 
 birds are so stupid that, when one of a flock is killed by a 
 shot, the rest remain undisturbed, insomuch that the fowler 
 may shoot several more, perhaps the whole flock, in suc 
 cession. 
 
 Among the reptiles of this country is the rattle snake, 
 from which however Lower Canada is said to be extempt, 
 but which swarms to a very dangerous degree in several 
 parts of the Upper, particularly in the desert islands of the 
 great lakes. The rattle snake here is of two species. The 
 one, seldom longer than thirty inches, is of a deep brown 
 colour, clouded with yellow. The other, nearly twice as 
 large as the former, is of a greenish yellow, clouded with 
 brown. Fish, in vast variety, abound in the Saint Law 
 rence and the lakes. Among these is the sturgeon, which 
 here is not considered as well flavoured for food, but is 
 valuable for its oil. The salmon swarms in an extraordi 
 nary degree. The Indians kill this and other species of 
 large fish, with spears, at night, with the aid of torches. 
 
188 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER Of two in a canoe one steers and paddles, while the other, 
 - standing over a flambeau placed in the head of the canoe, 
 
 strikes dexterously with his spear, the fish which come 
 
 around, attracted by the light.* 
 
 Iii Canada > where the great object must continue to be 
 agriculture, until a more numerous population shall have- 
 augmented the demands of the colonists, and furnished 
 workmen for other pursuits, little attention has been given 
 to the exploring of fossil wealth, which appears to be co 
 pious, and may in future times furnish large matter for 
 exportation. The ore of iron has been found in many 
 parts, but in one place only has a mine of it been worked. 
 That of copper is abundant in the remote parts of Upper 
 Canada, as about Lake Superior, and in its islands, where 
 it can be procured in vast quantities with little trouble. 
 Even virgin copper, apparently as pure as any which has 
 undergone the usual action of fire, has been seen in great 
 plenty in several of the more eastern of these islands, and on 
 the borders of a river which flows into the southwestern side 
 of the lake. Among the few fossils as yet discovered may be 
 noticed fine pieces of quartz, called also rock crystal, which 
 are brilliant like diamonds, and cut glass in like manner. 
 At Quebec, at Cape Diamond, which received its name 
 from these substances, great numbers might be procured, 
 mostly of a pentagonal form, and terminating each in a 
 point.f 
 
 * Gray, p. 246, 911. Weld, vol. 1, p. 354, vol. 2, p. 4346, 86, 140 ? 
 156, 163. 
 
 + Gray, p. 08, Weld, vol. 1> p. 377, vol. 2, p, 11. 
 
CANADA, 
 
 The commerce of Canada is maintained on one side with 
 the Indians by canoes, and on the other with the British 
 dominions in Europe and the West Indies by ships, beside 
 a considerable traffic with the people of the United States 
 of North America by boats and land -carriage. The trade 
 with the Indians for peltry and furs has been already no 
 ticed in my account of Northwestern America. This trade 
 has been chiefly in the hands of an association of merchants, 
 styled the northwest company, whose business is managed 
 by men resident in Montreal. Among- the skins imported 
 into the country by their agents, in one year, were a hun 
 dred and six thousand skins of beavers, thirty-two thousand 
 of martens, seventeen thousand of musquashes, six thousand 
 of lynxes, four thousand six hundred of otters, and three 
 thousand eight hundred of wolves. The supply of this 
 merchandize must, in course of time, diminish, according 
 to the decrease in the number of quadrupeds by the activity 
 of the hunters. The skins and furs, procured from the In 
 dians of the northwestern regions, in exchange for blankets, 
 guns, ammunition, spirituous liquors, and other articles, 
 constitute a very considerable part of the exports of Canada 
 to Europe. Among a great variety of other exports are 
 wheat, flour, and timber. The imports consist chiefly of 
 manufactured goods of various kinds, such as non-manufac 
 turing colonists must be expected to require. The trade 
 has employed already two hundred ships, containing thirty- 
 six thousands tuns, navigated by about sixteen hundred 
 seamen, and may be expected to employ, at a not very dis 
 tant time, a much greater number. The only channel of 
 traffic between Lower Canada and the United States of 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 V. 
 
 Commerce. 
 
190 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER North America, allowed by the British government, 'was 
 
 1 the river Chamblee, the outlet of the waters of lake Champ^ 
 
 lain into the Saint Lawrence : but, as a smuggling trade, 
 
 on so extensive a frontier could not easily be prevented, 
 
 great quantities of goods have been imported clandestinely.* 
 
 , An important article of exportation is timber, in staves or 
 in gross pieces. It is floated down the river to Quebec in 
 rafts, which are variously constructed, according to the va 
 rious kinds of wood conveyed by them. When oak is to be 
 floated, "a great number of large pieces of pine are 
 strongly fastened together with wooden pins, making a 
 kind of frame in the form of a gridiron. To this frame the 
 pieces of oak are fastened, and thereby buoyed up : for they 
 are so heavy, that they would not float of themselves. These 
 floats, or rafts, are so well put together, that they resist the 
 strong concussions in coming down the rapids ; and it is 
 remarkable that there is not a piece of iron about them. 
 Their only fastenings are wooden pins, and twigs and young 
 shoots of trees, of a tough and pliable nature. The cables 
 even, which they use as a fastening to prevent their being 
 carried up the river by the flowing tide, are nothing but 
 young shoots of trees, fastened and twisted together. By 
 these floats not only the oak, both squared and in plank, is 
 brought down, but also staves : and they are of vast dimen 
 sions. They are managed and directed by the force of large 
 oars or sweeps, from thirty to forty feet long, having their 
 fulcrum near the edge of the raft. The rowers are stationed 
 
 * Gray, p. 172201. Mackenzie's Tour, Pref. p. 25. Heriot's Tra 
 vels, &c. 
 
CANADA. 
 
 at the proper distance to give effect to their exertions on 
 the lever ; and, it must be allowed, a great power is wanted 
 to give a direction to such an unwieldy mass. Fifteen to 
 twenty people are employed on some of them. A house is 
 erected on each of them, in which the people sleep and eat ; 
 for they have cooking utensils, a fireplace, and beds, such 
 as they are. After the wood is sold, the float and house are 
 also disposed of."* 
 
 Various kinds of boats, some of which are termed canoes, 
 are employed in the carriage of merchandize on the rivers 
 and lakes of Canada. Next to the raft in its nature is the 
 scow, et a vessel with four sides, an oblong square, in 
 length forty to fifty feet, in breadth thirty to forty, and from 
 four to five deep, flat-bottomed. The sides are not perpen 
 dicular : they are inclined outwards for the purpose of car 
 rying a greater weight. The scows are built on the lakes 
 in Upper Canada. A large one will carry five! hundred 
 barrels of flour, and costs fifty pounds. They are built for 
 the farmers, for the purpose of transporting to Montreal 
 flour, potash, and other goods. They are navigated by long 
 oars, or sweeps, and poles. They have each a mast and 
 sail too, which can be used in the lakes, when the wind is 
 favourable. On such occasions they steer with an oar; 
 and they have anchors and cables to come to within the 
 lakes, when the wind blows strong against them. They 
 are made of pine, planked, and ealked outside, like a ship, 
 but have no deck. When they have discharged their car- 
 
 * Gray, p. 212. 
 
 191 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Boats. 
 
192 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER goes, they are of no further use, except for breaking up for 
 
 " " domestic purposes, and they are sold generally for a Very 
 
 few dollars."* Boats called bateaux, the French appellation', 
 are much in use on the Saint Lawrence and the lakes. 
 These are commonly about forty feet long, six broad, with 
 the sides about four feet high, flat-bottomed, sharp at 
 both ends, and carry a burden of from four to five tuns. 
 They are heavy vessels, awkward in rowing and sailing, but 
 are preferred to boats with keels, as, at the approach of a 
 storm, they can easily be run aground at the beach, and 
 drawn on shore.f 
 
 Of the canoes made of bark, employed in the trade with 
 the western Indians, which are also much used within the 
 limits of Canada, I have already given an account in treat 
 ing of the northwestern regions of America. Canoes of 
 another sort are in use in the Saint I^awrence, made each 
 out of " one solid piece of wood, the trunk of a large tree 
 scooped out, and formed on the outside somewhat like a 
 boat. Some of them are very large, carrying easily fifteen 
 or twenty people. The passing of the Saint Lawrence in 
 canoes,, in the middle of winter, where the river is not 
 frozen over, as at Quebec, is a very extraordinary operation. 
 The time of high water is chosen, when the large masses of 
 ice are almost stationary. The canoe is launched into the 
 water, where there is an opening : the people are provided 
 with ropes, boat-hooks, and paddles. When they come to 
 Jt sheet of ice, they jump out of the canoe upon it ; draw 
 
 * Gray, p. 203. f Weld, vol. 1, p. 332. 
 
CANADA. 
 
 the canoe up after them ; push it to the other side of the 
 sheet of ice ; launch it into the water ; paddle till they 
 come to another sheet of ice ; and proceed as before. You 
 see twenty to thirty canoes crossing in this way at the same 
 time ; and you cannot avoid trembling for them, when you 
 see two immense masses of ice coming together, and the 
 canoes between them, apparently in the greatest danger of 
 being crushed to pieces : but the people extricate them 
 selves with great dexterity."* 
 
 Of the area of this vast country, of which no accurate 
 survey has as yet been made, we can only form a conjec 
 tural, or vague estimation. Its length may be fourteen 
 hundred miles, its medial breadth near two hundred and 
 thirty, and its area little less than two hundred millions of 
 English acres. It is politically divided into the two pro 
 vinces of Lower and Upper Canada, separated by an ima 
 ginary line, which commences at a landmark of stone, on 
 the northern bank of lake Saint Francis, a broad distention 
 of the Saint Lawrence river, at a cove to the west of Point 
 au Baudet, and thence runs northward to Utawas river, 
 and along it to its source, and thence directly to the north 
 to the confines of New Britain. The subdivisions of coun 
 ties, townships parishes, and other districts, will increase in 
 number with extending, population. The increase indeed 
 in population has been rapid. In the lower province the 
 number of inhabitants was almost tripled in the space of 
 fifty years, after its becoming subject to the British crown. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 v. 
 
 Area. 
 
 Diyision. 
 
 Popniatias. 
 
 Gray, p. 
 
 Bb 
 
19* 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Inhabitants- 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 In the upper, the colony, from a very slender stock, grew to 
 such a state, in thirty years, as to consist of about a hi.ndied 
 shousand persons. This in part rs ascribable to emigra 
 tions from the territories of the United States. In the 
 beginning of the nineteenth century, the number of people 
 in all Canada amounted to at least three hundred thousand, 
 of whom about two-thirds were contained in the lower 
 province.* 
 
 In the above-stated estimate, I have not included the 
 Indians, whose numbers are very small, and totally uncer 
 tain, within the bounds of Canada. Few tribes indeed of 
 this race of men can properly be said to belong to this 
 country, as the range of territory, through which most of 
 them roam, or are thinly scattered, extends into regions far 
 beyond its limits. Such is the case with the Algonquins 
 and Knisteneaux, already mentioned, who stretch to the 
 west and north ; nor can the Iroquois be regarded as other 
 than borderers. A few small clans of aboriginal people 
 dwell in a comparatively settled manner within the Cana 
 dian territories ; but they are so very inconsiderable as 
 hardly to merit notice* A remnant of the Algonquins, 
 termed mountaineers by the colonists, consisting of about 
 thirteen hundred persons, about half of whom are a kind of 
 nominal Christians, inhabit a tract of country which borders 
 on lake Saint John. These, in length of time, have lost, 
 together with the ferocity, all the courage of the savage, 
 having become so unwarlike that they must quickly be ex- 
 
 * Gray, p. 165. 
 
CANADA. 
 
 195 
 
 tirpated by fiercer tribes, if they were not surrounded by 
 the posts of a civilized people. The rest of the charac 
 teristics of a savage people they fully retain, as an invincible 
 aversion to agriculture and every regular pursuit of pro 
 vident industry/ and an indolence from which they are 
 roused only by want, for the procuring of subsistence by the 
 chace. Of the colonists, or civilized inhabitants, of Lower 
 Canada, whom alone we regard as forming the population, 
 nearly nine tenths are of French descent^ and speak no 
 other than the French language. The remaining part, 
 together with all the people of Upper Canada, are of British 
 origin, and speak English only. 
 
 That the use exclusively of the French language in the 
 administration of govern rnent, and courts of justice in Lower 
 Canada, has hitherto been sanctioned by the legislative 
 power of Great Britain, seems to have been one of the 
 errors of the British cabinet in the modelling of a political 
 constitution for this country Two acts of the British par 
 liament, the one in 1774, the other in 1791, were passed for 
 the regulating of -the Canadian government. Of this system, 
 which may be hereafter new modelled, I shall attempt to give 
 no more than merely an outline. Two governors preside 
 separately over the two provinces, independent of each 
 other in civil matters ; but in military the governor of the 
 lower has the precedence, as being captain general for 
 Britain in North America. Under the governor of each 
 province are two bodies of a kind of provincial parliament, 
 the one termed the legislative council, the other the house 
 of assembly. The members of the former are summoned 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 Government^ 
 
196' CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTEK by the governor, and hold their places, unless forfeited by 
 
 " ~ specified culpability, during- life. Those of the latter are 
 
 elected by the freeholders of the several counties and (owns, 
 and retain their seats four years, unless their dissolution be 
 pronounced, before the expiration of that term, by the go 
 vernor, who has power at all times to dissolve their assembly. 
 In Lower Canada the legislative council must consist of 
 not less than fifteen members, in Upper Canada of not less 
 than seven. In the former province the house of assembly 
 must not contain less than fifty members, hi the latter not 
 less than sixteen. Except in some cases where the assent 
 of the king, and in some where even that of the British 
 parliament is necessary, laws for internal regulation are 
 made by these assemblies with the assent of the governor, 
 but may, within two years, be annulled by the king. The 
 executive power is vested in the governor, assisted by an 
 executive council nominated by the British sovereign. 
 
 In both the provinces the laws of England in criminal 
 matters are established, and in civil also in the upper : but 
 in the lower the old French customs are permitted to retain 
 the force of laws, except in lands granted, since the settle 
 ment of the government, in free and common soccage, by 
 the king, the inhabitants of which are subject only to 
 English laws, except in certain cases. That these French 
 customs have been established is somewhat unfortunate, as 
 they press too heavily on the lower classes, and as, from 
 their defective nature and their confusion with English laws, 
 a field is opened for the chicane of lawyers for the obstruc 
 tion of the course of justice, in the recovery of debts, and in 
 
CANADA. 
 
 197 
 
 suits concerning property. The assignment of separate 
 legislatures to the two provinces seems also unfortunate, as 
 tlience, in Lower Canada, the French members in the house 
 of assembly have fully in their power, by their great majo 
 rity over the English, to prevent the enactment of whatso 
 ever bill they may choose to oppose, and, thus enabled, are 
 apt, from their extraordinary ignorance, and inveterate pre 
 judices, to put impediments in the way of the colony's 
 improvement. Beside the great majority against them, the 
 British members are under another disadvantage. They 
 can seldom, if ever, in debate, speak the French tongue, 
 which alone is in use, with such fluency and force as those 
 of whom it is the vernacular speech. The expenses of go 
 vernment in Canada, in the maintenance of civil establish 
 ments and military and naval forces, must vary with circum 
 stances, but has always far exceeded the revenue collected 
 from the country. To attach the tribes of neighbouring 
 Indians to the British interest, presents are annually given 
 them, to a larger amount than seems to some consistent 
 with sound policy. The expenses of these presents, toge 
 ther with the salaries paid to officers in what is called the 
 Indian department, have hitherto amounted to a hundred 
 
 thousand pounds a year. 
 
 \ 
 
 The professors of every religion have the fullest toleration 
 in this country. The Roman Catholic Church, the Church 
 of the French colonists, the bulk of the inhabitants of Lower 
 Canada, is established by law, so far as that its clergy retain 
 their ecclesiastical properties, and can recover by legal pro 
 cess the dues and tythes which they possessed before the 
 
 CHAPTER 
 v. 
 
 Religion. 
 
198 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER conquest, except on lands belonging to Protestants. Tythes 
 are still levied from such lands held by Protestants, as were 
 formerly subject to this kind of rent for the support of the 
 Romish worship; but the amount of them is paid into the 
 hands of a receiver general, for the maintenance of Protes 
 tant clergymen of the Church of England, actually resident 
 in the province. For the maintenance of the same the se 
 venth part of all waste lands, granted by the king, is reserved 
 and without a clause of reservation to this purpose no grant 
 is valid. To constitute benefices, and to endow themVrom 
 this fund, a power is vested in the governor with the advice 
 of the executive council. In the beginning of the nineteenth 
 century the clergy of the Church of England, in both pro 
 vinces, were only thirteen in number, including the bishop 
 ot Quebec ; those of the Church of Scotland three ; those 
 of the Romish Church two hundred. A late traveller* 
 says v <c no where do the Roman Catholics and Protestants 
 live on better terms than here. They go to each other's 
 marriages, baptisms, asd burials, without scruple ; nay, 
 they have even been known to make use of the same Church 
 for religious worship, one party using it in the forenoon, 
 and the other in the afternoon. There is something truly 
 Christian in all this." 
 
 The Canadians of British blood are, in persons and man 
 ners, like other British people, but the French Canadians 
 are of a different character . Of the lower classes of these 
 many appear tinctured with Indian blood, and some are still 
 
 * Gray, p. 60. 
 
CANADA. 
 
 found dwelling in the villages of the Indians, and married to CHAPTER 
 Indian women. They are generally inclined to a roving ' 
 kind of life., apt to prefer the chase, the fishery, and the 
 management of boats in commercial voyages, to the settled 
 business of agriculture. From their resemblance to the 
 aboriginals in such propensities and habits, these have been, 
 and still continue to be, more attached to the French Cana 
 dians than to any other European colonists who have settled 
 in America. No bolder navigators, nor hardier men, per 
 haps are to be found in any country, than those of these 
 colonists who navigate the canoes in the trade of peltry. 
 The smoking of tobacco is incessantly praciised by these and 
 others of the lower classes, insomuch that they compute the 
 distances between places by pipes. By a pipe, which is 
 commonly about equal to a Russian verst, or three quarters 
 of an English mile, is meant the space through which they 
 may move while a pipeful of tobacco lasts in smoking. The 
 common people in general are blindly devoted to the dic 
 tates of their priests, and superstitious in the extreme. For 
 instance, they believe, that a consecrated candle, while it 
 burns/completely protects all in the house, where it is, from 
 thunder, tempests, sickness, and every other evil. 
 
 Consonant with the superstition of the French Canadians 
 is their extraordinary ignorance. Few among this people 
 can write or even read. Strange as it must appear, this is 
 the case with many members of the house of assembly. The 
 little acquaintance with literature discoverable among them 
 is chiefly possessed by the fair sex. The opinions of these 
 are regarded as of such weight, that the men generally con- 
 
200 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 JJnstoms. 
 
 suit their wives in the management of affairs, and are guided 
 by their ad vice. " Some of the lower classes have all the 
 gaity and vivacity of the people of France. Others, to ap 
 pearance, have a great deal of that sullenness and bluntness 
 in their manners characteristic of the people of the United 
 States. Vanity however is the ascendant feature in the cha 
 racter of all of them, and by working upon that you may 
 make them do what you please."* Their amiable beha 
 viour to strangers must be considered as atoning for many 
 faults. There is not a farmer, shopkeeper, nay, nor even a 
 seigneur, or country gentleman, who, on being civilly ap 
 plied to for accommodation, will not give you the best bed 
 in the house, and every accommodation in his power. The 
 Canadians seem to have brought the old French polileness 
 with them to this country, and to have handed it down to 
 the present genefation. One is more suprised to find here 
 courtesy and urbanity, from the little likelihood that such 
 plants would exist, far less flourish, in the wilds of Canada."f 
 Notwithstanding, however, the general politeness of this 
 people, the indolence of the men in the lower orders 
 causes great part of the labours of agriculture to fall to 
 the lot of the softer sex. 
 
 The customs and modes of life of the Canadians, both 
 
 French and British, depend much upon the nature of their 
 
 ^air and seasons. During the long winter, while the earth 
 
 continues covered with snow, which in the lower province is 
 
 not less than six months, all business, except the carrying 
 
 *- Weld. Tol. 1, p. 338. 
 
 Gray, p.. 127, 
 
CHAPTER 
 V. 
 
 'CANADA; 201 
 
 bf goods to market, is suspended, and the people devote their 
 time to amusement and festivity. The labouring classes, in 
 great proportion, are thus obliged to maintain themselves 
 the whole year on the earnings of the half : yet they are as 
 well clothed, and appear to live as comfortably, as those of 
 their rank in any country in Europe. The rooms are 
 warmed with stoves, as in Russia, and the cattle intended 
 for the provision of winter are killed at the commencement 
 of that season, and their flesh is preserved from taint by the 
 frost. A species of amusement much practised by the 
 gentry is driving in open sledges on the ice or frozen snow. 
 In these the ladies appear superbly dressed in furs. These 
 sledges, termed " carioles, glide over the snow with great 
 smoothness, and so little noise do they make, that it is ne 
 cessary to have a number of bells attached to the harness, 
 or a person continually sounding a horn, to guard against 
 accidents. The rapidity of the motion, with the sound of 
 these bells and horns, appears to be very conducive to cheer 
 fulness, for you seldom see a dull face in a cariole "* The 
 body of this vehicle* placed on what are called runners, 
 which resemble in form the irons of a pair of skaits, is of 
 various shapes and sizes, and is applied to various uses ; 
 some sorts serving as carts to bring goods to market, others 
 as carriages for travelling or pleasure. 
 
 Those who travel on foot in winter in this country Use Travelling. 
 what are called snow-shoes. These are made of a kind of 
 
 * Wtld, vol. 1, p. 393. 
 
 c c 
 
02 CANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER net- work, fixed on frames, about two feet long, and eighteen 
 
 inches broad, shaped like the paper kites used by boys. 
 
 From their extent of surface they sink not deeply in the 
 snow. Those who avail themselves of horses in travelling 
 over ice or snow generally sit in a cariole. Such is the ex 
 pedition of this mode, that <f there have been instances of a , 
 single horse having drawn a carioie, with two people in it, 
 iiot less than ninety miles in twelve hours, which is more 
 than mail-coach rate, with all their changes."* When two 
 horses are yoked to one of those vehicles, they are placed 
 in a line, the one before the other. The most extraordinary 
 part of Canadian travelling is on the ice of great sheets of 
 water, such as lake Champlain, over which carriages fre 
 quently run in the intercourse between this country and 4he 
 territories of the United States. Weak spots of the ice are 
 apt to give way under the feet of the horses. The animals, 
 in that case, fall into the water, and sometimes drag the 
 carriage and its contents to the bottom with them ; but in 
 general the men leap from the carriage on the unbroken 
 ice, and pull the horses out. For this purpose, on the neck 
 of each horse is fixed a rope with a running noose, by the 
 violent pulling of which the animal is strangled. No sooner 
 is this effect produced on these quadrupeds, " than they 
 rise in the water, float on one side, are drawn on strong 
 ice, the noose of the rope is loosened, and respiration re 
 commences. In a few minutes the horses are on their feet^ 
 as much alive as ever."f 
 
 * Gray, p. 263. f Gray, p. 278, 
 
CANADA, 
 
 The towns of Canada are as yet very few and of small 
 size. The third in magnitude, named Trois Rivieres, con 
 tained only about three hundred houses in the beginning of 
 the nineteenth century. It stands on a bank of the Saint' 
 Lawrence, at the influx of a great auxiliar stream, the Saint 
 Maurice, which is so divided at its mouth by two islands, as 
 to display to passing navigators the appearance of three 
 distinct rivers. The only two towns of considerable magni 
 tude, Quebec and Montreal, are situated at nearly equal dis 
 tances from this, and on the same side of the Saint Lawrence, 
 the northwestern. ' Montreal lies on the southern end of an 
 island of the same denomination, near thirty miles long and 
 ten broad, at the mouth of the Utawas river. The number 
 of inhabitants may be about ten thousand, of whom the 
 greater part dwell in the suburbs outside the wall of the 
 city, which, being useless since the Indians have ceased to 
 be formidable, has been suffered to become ruinous. The 
 streets are narrow, but regular. Except some built of 
 wood in the suburbs, the houses are of stone, and instead 
 of shingles, are mostly covered with plates of tin, to prevent 
 conflagration. For the same purpose, the doors of many, 
 and the outside shutters of the windows, are covered with 
 sheets of iron. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 V. 
 
 Towns. 
 
 Montreal. 
 
 The present capital of Canada, and most probably 
 future, is Quebec, most advantageously situated for strength, 
 commercial convenience, and the beauties of majestic sce 
 nery. It is built on a vast calcareous rock, the end of a 
 promontary, which contracts the Saint Lawrence to the 
 
 Quebec. 
 
20 $ CANADA^ 
 
 v. 
 
 CHAPTER comparatively diminutive breadth of a mile,, but forms below 
 this fluvial strait, at the influx of the river Saint Charles, a 
 noble harbour, called the bason, capable of containing, in a 
 commodious manner, above a hundred sail of the heaviest 
 ships of waiv The town consists of two parts,, the upper 
 and lower. The upper town stands on the top of the rock ; 
 the lower at its foot. The two parts communicate by a 
 winding street, in which some stairs are cut at the sides for 
 the accommodation of passengers on foot. The fortifica 
 tions are stupendous, beside that the natural steepness of the 
 rock obviates, in many places, the necessity of walls. The 
 perpendicular height of the rock at Cape Diamond, which 
 forms part of the outline, is at least three hunddred and fifty 
 feet, The number of inhabitants is about twelve thousand. 
 The streets are in general, more especially in the lower 
 town, rather narrow and irregular. The houses are mostly 
 built of stone, and are covered with boards or shingles, ex 
 cept a number of the best dwelling-houses and most valuable 
 warehouses, which have a beautiful covering of plates of tin, 
 Quebec, which, from its situation^ must be regarded as the 
 key of Canada, and seems intended in future ages for the 
 capital of a great empire, is remarkable for the grand di- 
 versified^ and beautiful scenery, which the eye commands 
 from several parts of the upper town. " In the variegated 
 expanse that is laid before you> stupendous rocks, immense 
 rivers, trackless forests and cultivated plains, mountains, 
 lakes, towns, and villages, in turn strike the attention, and 
 the senses are almost bewildered in contemplating the vast- 
 ness of rhe scene. The river itself, five or six miles wide, 
 
is one of the most beautiful objects in nature, and on a CHAPTER 
 
 fine still summer's evening it often wears the appearance ' 
 
 of a vast mirror, where the varied rich tints of the sky, as 
 well as the images of the different objects on the banks, 
 are seen reflected with inconceivable lustre."* 
 
 * Weld, Tol. 1, p. 355, 
 
207 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HUDSON'S BAY. 
 
 THE mouths of all the rivers in Hudson's Bay. are filled CHAPTER 
 
 * vi. 
 
 with shoals ; except that of Church-hill, in which the largest - 
 
 ships may lie : but ten miles higher it is obstructed with 
 sand-banks. All the rivers, as far, as they have been navi 
 gated are full of rapids and cataracts, from ten to sixty feet 
 perpendicular. Down these the Indian traders find a quick 
 passage ; but their return is a labour of many months.* 
 
 As far inland as the company have settlements, i. e. 600 
 miles to the west of a place called Hudson's stone in lat. 53, 
 long. 106 27, the country is flat ; nor is it known how far 
 to the eastward the great western chain of mountains 
 branches oflf.f 
 
 The sun rises and sets with a large eone of yellowish 
 light. The burting of the rocks by the frost, is altogether 
 terrific. Like many heavy cannon fired together, and the 
 splinters thrown to an amazing distance. All the grous- 
 kind, ravens, crows, titmouse., and Lapland finch brave the 
 severest winters. 
 
 * Pennant's Arctic Zoology, p. 294. t Idem, p. 290. 
 
20S 
 
 LABRADOR. 
 
 CHAPTER THE northern part has a strait coast facing the bay, 
 
 VI. 
 
 guarded by a line of Isles innumerable. The eastern coast 
 
 is barren beyond the efforts of cultivation. The surface is 
 every where covered with masses of stone of an amazing- 
 size. It is a country of fruitless vallies and frightful moun^ 
 tains., some of them of an astonishing height. There is a 
 chain of lakes spread throughout formed not from springs, 
 but from rain and snow. Their water is so chilly, as to be 
 productive of only a few small trout. On those mountains 
 there are thinly scattered a few blighted shrubs, or a little 
 moss. In the vallies there are crooked, stunted trees, pines, 
 firs, birch, cedar, or rather a species of juniper. In latitude 
 6(X, on this coast vegetation ceases. The whole shore like 
 that of the west is faced with islands, at some distance from 
 the land. The people among tlie mountains are Indians. 
 Those on the coast Esquimaux. The dogs of the former are 
 small ; those of the latter are headed like the fox. They 
 have a few rein-deer ; but use their dogs for drawing.* 
 
 The Labrador-stone, which reflects all the colours of the 
 peacock is found in loose masses. 
 
 ? Phil. Trans, LXIV. 372, 386. 
 
209 
 
 NOVA SCOTIA 
 
 THE face of the country is in general hilly, but not 
 mountainous. It appears to be a lowered continuation of 
 that chain or spine which pervades the whole continent. 
 The land is not favourable for agriculture ; but may be 
 excellent for pasturage. The summer is misty and damp. 
 It abounds in extensive forests ; but not in large timber, 
 none fitted for large masts, nor even for the building of large 
 ships. Here is an inexhaustible fund of lumber for the 
 sugar plantations. The situation for fishing here is little 
 inferior to that of Newfoundland. Cape George terminates 
 the coast to the east. It is iron-bound, and 420 feet 
 above the sea. 
 
 Par from every part of Nova Scotia extends a skirt of 
 land with deep water and fine anchorage. The harbours 
 here form very secure retreats ; and the tides in the bay 
 of Fundy are from fifty to seventy- two feet and flow with 
 prodigious rapidity. Hogs perceiving its approach run 
 away, at full speed. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VI. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 Virginia Site Coast Contour Rivers Lakes 
 
 Swamps Springs Subterranean excavations Tempe 
 rature and Seasons Face History Vegetables Ani 
 mals Fossils Commerce Area Population Govern - 
 ment Division Religion Towns Roads Bridges 
 Inns Inhabitants Staves Literature Manners 
 Islands. 
 
 VIRGINIA, OR UNITED STATES, 
 
 UNDER which general denomination, for geographical CHAPTER 
 convenience, are comprehended the territories possessed 
 
 by the United States of North America, is a region of vast 
 dimensions, but of not accurately determined boundaries, 
 extending from the borders of New Brunswick and Canada, 
 and the lakes Ontario and Erie, southwestward to the fron 
 tiers of Florida, .and from the Atlantic ocean, westward be 
 yond the river Missisippi, to tracts approximating the Spa 
 nish colonies in New Mexico. The settling of the limits of 
 this great portion of the American continent will depend on 
 
 2o 2 
 
eis 
 
 CH \PTFR 
 VFK 
 
 Coast* 
 
 Contour. 
 
 VIRGINIA, 
 
 future political transactions. At present the widest interval 
 between this and the neighbouring countries is found on the 
 side of the territories comprised under the appellation of 
 New Mexico, where vast marshes and desart plains, desti 
 tute of trees, like the steppes of Tartary, intervene between 
 the occupied parts of the one and the other region. 
 
 Prom its northern limit, the coast of this vast country is in* 
 general high, rocky, and here and there bordered with reefs, 
 as far toward the south as the vicinity of Long Island : but 
 thence to its southern termination it is so flat and low, as 
 not to be discernible from ships on the ocean until their very 
 near approach to the land * It is broken throughout by 
 numerous inlets, in which are many safe receptacles for ship 
 ping. The greatest are in the southern parts, as Delaware 
 bay, Chesapeak gulf, and Albemarle sound Far the most 
 extensive of these is the gulf, improperly called the bay, of 
 Chesapeak, which advances about two hundred and seventy 
 miles within the continent, with a breadth of from seven to- 
 eighteen miles, and a depth of commonly about nine fa 
 thoms. 
 
 The land of this region rises westward from the Atlantic, 
 and eastward from the Missisippi, by gradations which are 
 various and mostly insensible, to the interior or middle parts, 
 which are occupied by long ridges of mountains, running 
 generally toward the northeast and southwest, nearly pa 
 rallel to one another, and remarkable for an evenness or 
 
 * Volaey's View of the United States, London, 1804, 8vo. p. 
 
VIRGINIA; 213 
 
 uniformity unvaried by such peaks and ringed precipices as CIIAPTKR 
 diversify the mountains or Europe and Asia. This extraor 
 dinary congeries of mountainous protu Iterances, which ap 
 pear to be natural terraces of prodigious elongation, forms 
 a tract of above a thousand miles in length, and commonly 
 from about seventy to a hundred and twenty miles broad. 
 Among the extensive ridges of this tract, from which nu 
 merous branches run in various directions, three principal 
 are distinguishable., the different parts of which are variously 
 denominated. The appellation of the Apalachiari or Al- 
 leghany mountains, which is sometimes extended to the 
 whole assemblage, belongs, in strict propriety, to the great 
 est ridge, termed also the endless chain, which, unbroken 
 by any watercourse, forms the spine of this portion of the 
 American continent, separating the streams which descend 
 eastward to the Atlantic from those which flow westward to/ 
 the Missisippi. These mountains are not of more than a 
 moderate height. The medial elevation of the Apalachian 
 chain above the ocean's level is only two thousand, or two 
 thousand four hundred feet, though in some parts it is com 
 puted to rise to the altitude of between three and four thous 
 and, and even to seven thousand eight hundred in one part, 
 a part detached from the main ridge, in the province of 
 New Hampshire, called the white mountains, sometimes 
 visible at sea at the distance of thirty leagues. On the 
 eastern side, between the system of mountains and the At 
 lantic, the country is rough with hills as far toward the 
 south as Long Island ; but thence throughout it is a flat or 
 shelving plain, varying in breadth from fifty to a hundred 
 and eighty miles, encreasing in, width as it approaches the 
 
214 
 
 CHAPTER 
 V1J. 
 
 ttivers. 
 
 south. On the western side, to the banks of the Missisippi, 
 it consists of plains of vast extent, traversed by low ridges 
 in various directions. To the north of the river Ohio, the 
 land; denominated the northwestern territory, forms an 
 immense plain, or gently undulating surface, so elevated as 
 to give source to rivers whose waters are conveyed in op 
 posite directions, some to the south by the Missisippi, others 
 to the north by the Saint Lawrence.* 
 
 As the highest or middle region of this part of America 
 displays a peculiarity in the arrangement and conformation 
 of its mountains, so also has it some uncommon circumstan 
 ces by which the courses of its rivers are affected. These, 
 after having flowed, for some space, along the vallies, be 
 tween the ridges of mountains, in streams parallel to them, 
 tnrn suddenly into directions transverse to these ridges, 
 through deep gaps, in which they pour their waters, whence 
 they descend into the plains. Appearances strongly indicate, 
 that, in times of antiquity, many vallies in the mountainous 
 region formed vast lakes, the waters of which, in a course of 
 ages, forced passages from their confinement, bursting their 
 way, where the resistance was weakest, through the vast 
 barriers by which they were pent, and thus forming those 
 gaps through which the rivers are now seen to rush with 
 such impetuosity. In this manner appear to have been 
 scooped the channels of the rivers Hudson, Delaware, Sus- 
 quehannah, Potowmak, and Jarnes, which traverse the ridges 
 between the Atlantic and the spinal or properly called Apa- 
 
 * Volney, p. 1842. See also the Tours of Burnaby, Smith, Chastel- 
 iux, Weld, &c. &c. 
 
VIRGINIA. 215 
 
 lachian chain ; and such appears also to have been the case CHAPTER 
 
 vii 
 with the Ohio, which seems to have pierced the mounds ' 
 
 between the spine and the Missisippi. The most remark 
 able, or at least the most remarked, of the gaps through 
 which the formerly imprisoned waters escape to the plains, 
 is the breach through which the Potowmak runs> formed in 
 the ridge called the Blue mountains^, a breach above a 
 thousand feet deep,, and near four thousand wide, presenting, 
 in some points of view, a fine object to the eye by the sub^ 
 limity of the scene, and the mingled beauties of rocks and 
 erdure.* 
 
 The rivers named above, flowing with vast bodies of 
 water, in broad and deep streams, together with several 
 others,, form an extensive inland navigation, which has been 
 already much improved by the excavation of canals, and 
 will doubtless, in future times, with the encrease of wealth, 
 be improved much further. Except in some parts where 
 are portages or carrying places, where navigation is inter 
 rupted by cataracts or other impediments, these Fivers are 
 navigable by boats almost throughout, and those which fall 
 into the Atlantic are navigable .by ships of burden far 
 above their mouths, as the Hudson which enters the ocean 
 at Long Island, the Delaware which is received by a bay of 
 the same denomination, and the Susq,uehannah, the Potow- 
 *nak, and the James, which disembogue into the gulf of the 
 Chesapeak. Of all these the Potowmak is of the easiest 
 navigation. On this any ordinary mariner, who has once 
 
 * Voluey, p, 74 95 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER made the passage, may safely, without a pilot, conduct o 
 vessel, drawing only twelve feet water, from the ChesapeaK 
 to the city of Washington, a course of a hundred and forty 
 miles. In the southern parts the rivers which run to the 
 Atlantic are so barred by shoals and sand banks as not to 
 admit heavy ships, except the Ashley, the Cooper, and Sa 
 vannah, which however are not navigable by large vessels 
 for within land. Among the cataracts of this country I 
 shall only mention that of Cohoz, where the Mohawk river, 
 on auxiliar of the Hudson, falls from the height of fifty feet, 
 over a ledge of rocks which extends in a right line quite 
 .across the channel, where the breadth of the stream is three 
 hundred yards. On the western side of the Apalachians, 
 the Ohio, by its great influent or auxiliar streams, affords 
 a most extensive navigation, while itself bears ships, draw 
 ing twelve feet water, through a space of above six hundred 
 miles, to the Missisippi, on which such vessels may prose 
 cute their voyage to the gulph of Mexico. Indeed, when 
 all the windings are taken into the account, the length of 
 the navigation, from Pittsburgh on the Ohio to New Orleans 
 on the Missisippi, is reckoned above two thousand miles. 
 In the provinces of Kentucky and Tenessee the soil is of 
 such a nature that the brooks and even considerable rivers, 
 are apt suddenly to disappear, sinking to a stratum of cal 
 careous rock, along which, as on a nearly horizontal floor, 
 they pursue their course in subterranean channels.* 
 
 * Volnef , p. 2225. Weld's Travels, 8vo. London I79, vol. 1, p. 62, 
 63, 275. Morse's American Geography and Gazetteer, &c. &c. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 The lakes, which lie within the territories of the United 
 States, are so vastly inferior in size to the immense bason 
 of water in their vicinity, on the northwestern quarter, as 
 not to attract comparatively much notice. Vet lake Champ- 
 Jain, which, on one end, receives a stream from lake George, 
 and, on the other, discharges its redundant waters by an 
 outlet to the river Saint Lawrence, is accounted two hun 
 dred miles long, and from one to eighteen broad, has a 
 depth of water sufficient for the largest vessels, and contains 
 above sixty islands, one of which is twenty-four miles in 
 length, and from two to four wide. Lake George itself, 
 whose water is supposed to be a hundred feet higher than 
 that of Champlain, is thirty-six miles long, and from one 
 to seven broad. The lakes Cayuga and Seneca, each nearly 
 forty miles long, communicate with each other, and, by an 
 effluent stream, with the great Ontario. This also is the 
 case with some smaller lakes, as the Oneida, and one called 
 the salt lake, whose water is impregnated strongly with salt. 
 
 Prom the nature and position of the ground in many parts 
 of these regions, the waters form bogs of a species called 
 swamps, which are commonly overspread with a very thick 
 growth of reeds, shrubs, and treesj of various kinds. Of 
 these the most noticed is one called the Dismal swamp, situ 
 ated in the low country which borders on the Atlantic, 
 between Virginia proper and North Carolina, extending 
 thirty miles in length, with a medial breadth of ten, covered 
 mostly with a dense forest of enormous trees. which .yjeld 
 valuable timber, and bordered in many parts, especially 
 toward the south, with a kind pf meadows occupied by 
 
 E e 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII... 
 
 Lakes* 
 
18 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER reeds, which afford the most nourishing food for cattle. 
 
 """ L The waters of a canal, cut in this dreary tract, are of the 
 
 colour of brandy, and accounted rather salubrious than 
 otherwise, which is supposed to be caused by the roots of 
 juniper, or other trees. In the center is a lake or pond, 
 about seven miles in length. Some spaces in the south 
 have been cleared, and are found fertile in rice : but far the 
 greater portion, consisting of an undrainable quagmire, is 
 incapable of culture. For the production of rice, large 
 tracts have been reclaimed in another wide marsh, called 
 also the Dismal, by some the Great Aligator swamp, which 
 lies to the south of Albemarle sound, and contains a lake 
 eleven miles long- In the province of Georgia, on the 
 borders of Florida, is the Ekanfanoka marsh, supposed to 
 be three hundred miles in circuit, forming in rainy seasons 
 a lake, and containing several islands, which are said to be 
 inhabited, and concerning which the neighbouring savages 
 relate some fabulous stories.* 
 
 springs. Thermal waters of various qualities are found in the 
 
 mountainous parts, particularly in those which belong to 
 Virginia proper, as in Botecourt county, where are those 
 which are called the Sweet Springs, held in such estimation 
 for supposed sanative properties, as to be frequented by 
 considerable numbers in summer. Beside several others, 
 are Warm Spring and Hot Spring in Augusta county, at 
 the distance of above forty miles from the above-mentioned, 
 near the sources of the river James. Hot Spring raises the 
 
 5 Weld, Morse , Bar tram, &c 
 
VIRGINIA^ 219 
 
 mercury in Fahrenheit's thermometer to a hundred and CHAPTER 
 
 VII- 
 
 twelve degrees at least. Warm Spring, which is much 
 
 larger, rises in the bottom of a deep valley, shaped like an 
 inverted cone, which shews every indication of having been 
 the crater of a volcano now extinct. The temperature of 
 its water, which is ammoniacal and sulphureous, fills a 
 bason of thirty feet in diameter, and flows in a sufficient 
 stream for the turning of a mill, is measured by the ninety- 
 sixth degree of the same thermometer.* 
 
 Whether by the operations of water, the marks of whose 
 violence are strongly impressed on many parts of these 
 territories} or by those of another element, some strange 
 excavations have been formed, has not as yet been ascer 
 tained. Of these the most extraordinary is a stupendous 
 natural bridge, thrown over a frightful chasm, in the county 
 of Rockbriclge, in Virginia proper, between Augusta and 
 the river James. " It extends across a deep cleft in the 
 mountain, which, by some great convulsion of nature, has 
 been split asunder from top to bottom ; and it seems to 
 have been left there purposely to afford a passage from one 
 side of the chasm to the other. The cleft or chasm is about 
 two miles long, and in some places upwards of three hun 
 dred feet deep. The depth varies with the height of the 
 mountain, being greatest where the mountain is most lofty. 
 The breadth of the chasm also varies, but, in every part it 
 is uniformly wider at top than toward the bottom. The 
 arch consists of a solid mass of stone, or of stones cemented 
 so strongly together that they appear but as one. The 
 
 * Volney) p. 40. Weld, vol. 7, p. 210. Morse's Gazetteer, &C.&G. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER height of the bridge to the top of ;he parapet is two huu- 
 
 ^ dred and thirteen feet, the thickness of the arch forty, the 
 
 span of the arch at top ninety, and the distance between the 
 a-butments at bottom fifty. The abutments consist of a 
 solid mass of limestone on either side, and, together with 
 the arch, seem as if they had been chiseled out by the hand 
 of art. A small stream, called Cedar creek, running at the 
 bottom of the fissure, over a bed of rocks, adds much to the 
 beauty of the scene. From the bottom of the chasm the 
 stupendous arch appears in all its glory, and seems to touch 
 the Very skies. To behold it without rapture is impossible ; 
 and the more critically it is examined, the more beautiful 
 and surprising it appears."* On one side of the bridge is a 
 natural parapet of fixed rocks ; but on the other, where a 
 near approach to the brink is dangerous, no fence is fur 
 nished, except trees, which cover in general the arch, and 
 both sides of the chasm. The breadth of the bridge, over 
 the middle of which a road frequented by waggons lies, is 
 from brink to brink about eighty feet. 
 
 Of the caverns the most noted is that which is called 
 Maddison's cave, situate also in Virginia proper, about fifty 
 miles northward of the natural bridge, in a hill of about two 
 hundred feet in elevation, forming on one side a precipice, 
 washed at the foot by a river. In the steep side is found 
 the entrance of the cavern, which extends about three hun 
 dred feet into the earth, dividing into two branches, which 
 irregularly descend till they terminate each in a pool of un 
 known dimensions. The two pools are suspected to com- 
 
 ? Weld, vol. 1, p. 220225. See also Jefferson's Notes on Virginia. 
 
VIRGINIA. 221 
 
 municate with each other and with the river. The height CHAPTER 
 
 v ii 
 of the cavern is commonly from about twenty to fifty feet, ' 
 
 and the sides and roof are of solid limestone. The stalac 
 tites in some parts form massy pillars, and in others hang 
 from the ceiling 1 like elegant drapery.* 
 
 In temperature and seasons this portion of America dif- Temperature 
 fers widely from the western countries of the Old Continent 
 between the same parallels, and has this peculiarity, that 
 its maritime lowlands, washed by the Atlantic, are colder 
 than those of the interior, beyond the mountainous- region, 
 in the same degrees of latitude. From the contour of this 
 vast country, and its position with respect to the gulf of 
 Mexico and other tracts of water and of land, a most judi 
 cious traveller has in great measure accounted for the state 
 of its atmosphere f In the modification of the temperature 
 and weather the winds are the great agents, which are here 
 more general, or blow uninterrupted over a greater extent 
 of surface, than in Europe. Those whidi here predominate 
 are the northwest, southwest, and northeast ; insomuch 
 that, if we suppose the year divided into thirty-six equal 
 parts, " we may say that these three hare taken to them 
 selves thirty or thirty-two., the northwest and southwest 
 twelve each, the northeast, with the east, six or eight. The 
 rest are distributed among the southeast, south, and west, 
 since due north may be reckoned almost as nothing." To 
 form a right idea of the temperature of this vast country, we 
 must conceive it to be divided longitudinally, by lines run- 
 
 * Weld, vol. 1, p. 225230. + Volney, p. 122249, 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 j n a direction from northeast to southwest, into three 
 regions, the eastern washed by the Atlantic, the middle or 
 the mountainous, and the western or the valley of the Mis- 
 sisippi. 
 
 The Atlantic region, which, except its northern part, is 
 level throughout, or a shelving plain between the moun 
 tains and the ocean, resembles, not only in temperature, 
 but even in soil, those parts of China and Tartary which are 
 similarly situated, or between the same parallels. Here the 
 cold of winter and the heat of summer are very sensibly 
 greater, more especially the former, than in the western 
 countries of Europe and Africa under the same degrees of 
 latitude. The territories of New England, situated between 
 the latitudes of forty-two and forty-five degrees, correspond 
 ing to the south of France and the north of Spain, are so 
 covered with snow for three or four months in winter, as to 
 render the use of sledges general and habitual. Fahren 
 heit's thermometer commonly varies in this season between 
 the freezing point and eighteen or twenty-two degrees be 
 low it, and sometimes sinks lower to thirty and even forty 
 degrees under that mark. In the same territories, for forty 
 or fifty days in summer, the mercury in this instrument is 
 frequently seen to rise to the eightieth, eighty-sixth, and 
 even ninetieth degree ; and few summers pass without its 
 being found sometimes to rise to ninety-nine or a hundred 
 and one, which is the temperature of the coasts of the Per 
 sian gulf, or the lowlands of Arabia, In the middle pro 
 vinces, between north and south, as Pensylvania, the dura 
 tion of the^old is less, and that of the heat greater, but the 
 
TIRGINIA. 223 
 
 intensity of both remains nearly the same. The river Dela- CHAPTER 
 
 ware, notwithstanding the rising of the tide to the height of : 
 
 six feet,, is frozen entirely over, where H is a mile broad, hi 
 twenty-four hours, and, except two or three intervals of thaw, 
 continues obstructed about thirty, and sometimes forty days. 
 It has been known to be so frozen in the space of even ten 
 hours, as to bear people to walk across it. Fora long time 
 after the summer solstice, and twenty days before it, the heat 
 is so violent, that the streets of Philadelphia are totally de* 
 serted from noon till five o'clock in the evening. 
 
 In these middle provinces the annual variation between 
 the usual maximums of cold and heat amounts to a hundred" 
 and three or a hundred and eight degrees of Fahrenheit's 
 thermometer, and in the northern to a hundred and fourteen, 
 but in the southern only to seventy-two or seventy-six, as 
 the difference naturally diminishes in approaching the equa 
 tor, under which it quite ceases to have existence. In even 
 the southern provinces a smart cold is felt in winter, but fo? 
 four months in summer the mercury of Fahrenheit is com* 
 monly at between eighty and eighty-six degrees, and some 
 times rises at Savannah to even a hundred and eight. Not 
 only are the annual variations of temperature far greater 
 than in Europe, but also the diurnal, particularly in the 
 middle territories between north and south, as Pennsylvania 
 and Maryland. The changes from cold to hot, and from 
 hot to cold, are great and sudden. The thermometer fre* 
 quently varies, in the space of eighteen hours, fourteen, 
 twenty-eight, and sometimes, even in a single night, thirty 
 degrees. It has been known to fall even forty-nine 
 
224 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER in fifteen hours, and twenty within an hour and a half. The 
 
 VII. 
 
 : excessive variableness of the weather is thus described by 
 
 an American writer.* " It appears that tire climate of Pen- 
 sylvania is a compound of most of the climates in the world. 
 Here we have the moisture of Britain in the spring, the heat 
 of Africa in summer, the temperature of Italy in June, the 
 sky of Egypt in the autumn, the cold and snows of Norway 
 and the ice of Holland in the winter, the tempests, in a cer 
 tain degree, of the West Indies in every season, and the 
 variable winds and weather of Great Britain in every month 
 of the year. In the course of our winters, particularly in 
 January and February, there frequently happen variations 
 from cold to hot, or from hot to cold, by which the health 
 is considerably affected. Similar variations take place in 
 summer, and piercing cold succeeds almost every night to 
 the violent heats of the day." The physical geographer of 
 this country says,f that what is here stated concerning Pen- 
 sylvania " is applicable, with very little difference, to the 
 coast of Virginia proper and the Carolinas." The changes 
 are less observed on the coast of Georgia, where, from its 
 southern situation, the head predominates, and where, from 
 the discontinuation of the Appalachian ridges, the tempera 
 ture becomes the same witli that of the western lowlands. 
 
 .- 
 
 In the Apalachian or mountainous region, the interme 
 diate between the eastern and western, the cold of winter, 
 from the nature of elevated surfaces, is greater, and of 
 
 * Doctor Rush in the American Museum, vol. 7, p. 337. 
 t Volney, p. 139. 
 
VII. 
 
 VIRGINIA, 225 
 
 longer duration, and the heat of summer less violent, but CHAPTER 
 varying- according to the height and aspect of the ground, 
 than in the eastern or Atlantic tracts : but in the western 
 region, the valley of the Missisippi, where a southwesterly 
 wind, warm and moist, from the gulf of Mexico, prevails 
 ten months in the year, the annual heat is greater than in 
 the Atlantic coast by three degrees of latitude ; that is, the 
 temperature, existing under any parallel in the former, is 
 equal to tha* which has place in the latter in situations 
 three degrees further to the south. This difference of tem 
 perature between the eastern and western lowlands has ex 
 istence only so far as they are separated by the Apulachian 
 ridges, for it ceases both at the northern and southern ter 
 mination of that chain. The superior warmth of the west 
 ern region is therefore ascribed in part to these mountains, 
 which in general stop the course of the southwesterly wind, 
 preventing its passage to the eastern coasts. This current 
 of air appears to be in fact a portion of the trade- wind of the 
 Atlantic, which, having rushed into the vast bason of the 
 Mexican gulf, forces thence its way, like the gulf-stream, 
 by its easiest outlet, the vale of the Missisippi, where that 
 of the Ohio somewhat changes its direction. The north 
 west wind, fraught with sharp cold from frozen desarts and 
 the icy ocean, is supposed to glide, in a diagonal current, 
 over the aerial lake formed by the southwestern in the vast 
 concaves or vallies of the Missisippi and Ohio, to pass over 
 the summits of the Apalachian ridge, and thence to descend 
 into the Atlantic region, the cold of whose portion of the 
 atmosphere is thus augmented. 
 
 F f 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 Though certain winds are habitually prevalent in this por 
 tion of America, their currents are much more inconstant or 
 variable than in Europe. Volney says, " I can venture to 
 affirm that, during a residence of near three years, I never 
 saw the same wind blow thirty hours together, or the ther 
 mometer continue at the same point for ten. The currents 
 of air are perpetually varying, not one or two points merely, 
 but from one quarter of the compass to its opposite : and 
 these changes attract notice so much the more, since the 
 alterations in the temperature are as great as they are sud 
 den." The changes in the air from dryness to humidity are 
 not less quick and violent. Though the air is dfyer, and 
 the number of fair days much greater, than in the west of 
 Europe, yet the quantity of water which falls in rain, within 
 the year, is much greater. The showers are commonly sud 
 den and prodigiously heavy, and the evaporation extremely 
 quick. The dews are also excessively copious. The air is 
 highly charged with electric matter. Of this, says the same 
 traveller, " storms afford very terrifying proofs in the loud- 
 ness of the claps of thunder, and the prodigious vividness of 
 the flashes of lightning. When I first saw thunder storms 
 at Philadelphia, I remarked, that the electric fluid was so 
 copious, as to make all. the air appear on fire by the conti 
 nued succession of the flashes. Their arrowy and zigzag 
 lines were of a breadth and length of which I had no idea ; 
 and the pulsations of the electric fluid were so strong, that 
 they seemed to my ear and to my face to be the light wind 
 produced by the flight of some nocturnal bird. These ef 
 fects are not confined to the eye and ear, for they frequently 
 occasion melancholy accidents*" People are frequently 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 killed, and other damages sustained, by the lightning. CHAPTER 
 
 mr * 
 
 Hurricanes are most frequent in April and October, and most ' 
 
 commonly produced by a northeast wind. tf These hurri 
 canes have this peculiarity, that their fury is generally dis 
 played in a narrow space, little more than half a mile broad, 
 sometimes less, and only four or five miles in length. In 
 this space they tear up by the root the trees of the forest, 
 and make openings through the woods, as the sickle of a 
 reaper would in passing over a few furrows in a corn-field." 
 At other times, but these are rare, they traverse the whole 
 length of the continent of North America. 
 
 In this vast region, as in the North American continent 
 in general, three seasons only fill the year, as here spring 
 has no place. Though the cold is more severe than in Eu 
 rope, the winter is more tardy. This season commences 
 not fully, till the middle of December, or a Jittle before the 
 solstice, even in the northern territories, though some inter 
 vals of bad weather occur more early. The difference of 
 latitude between the northern and southern territories is so 
 great, a difference of fifteen degrees, that the difference of 
 temperature in every season must be very considerable. In 
 the northern and middle parts, the earth is covered with frost 
 and snow at the brumal solstice. A thaw frequently has 
 place in January, but this is succeeded by a cold more in 
 tense. In February the snows are most abundant, and the 
 cold most piercing., March is tempestuous and chilling, 
 with showers of snow; nor, till the beginning of May, even 
 in Virginia proper, is vegetation so revived that the trees of 
 
228 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER the forest reclothe themselves with leaves ; (e which is the 
 """ " more astonishing, since the rays of the meridian sun are in 
 sufferably scorching from the middle of April." Thus from 
 told to violent heat the transition is sudden, " with the in 
 congruous circumstances of a freezing wind and a scorching 
 sun, a winter's landscape and a summer's sky. When vege 
 tation at length bursts forth, its progress is extremely rapid. 
 Flowers are quickly succeeded by fruit, and this ripens 
 more speedily than with us. When the sun, rising highest 
 above the horizon, heats the whole continent, the northerly 
 winds are repressed by those of the south and southwest. 
 June brings on the most intense heats; July the heats of 
 longest continuance, with the most frequent storms ; August 
 and September the heats most oppressive, on account of the 
 calms with which they are accompanied. At length the 
 autumnal equinox again arrives, and the series already 
 stated recommences ; thus dispensing to this country, in 
 the course of a complete solar revolution, four months of 
 heat, five or six of cold and storms, and only two or three 
 of temperate weather." The last have place in autumn, 
 which is more serene and pleas.mt than the other seasons. 
 Some change is found to have been effected in the seasons, 
 however, since the arrival of European colonists in these 
 countries, by the partial destruction of the woods. " The 
 winters are shorter, the summers longer, and the autumns 
 later, but, without any abatement of intenseness in the 
 winter's cold." From the extension of the cause, the clear 
 ing of the ground, by an increasing population, still greater 
 changes mny be expected in future times. 
 
VIRGINIA. 229 
 
 When such alterations shall have been effected, the conn- CHAPTER 
 
 try will display a different face from that which it wears at 
 
 present. The following is a sketch of the appearance which 
 it exhibited at the end of the eighteenth century. ee Such 
 is the general aspect of the territory of the United States : 
 an almost uninterrupted continental forest : five great lakes 
 on the north : on the west extensive savannahs : in the cerr-. 
 ter a chain of mountains, their ridges running in a direction 
 parallel to the sea coast, and sending off to the east and west 
 rivers of longer course, of greater width, and pouring into 
 the sea larger bodies of water, than ours in Europe, most of 
 them having cascades or falls from twenty to a hundred and 
 forty feet in height, mouths spacious as gulfs, and on the 
 southern coasts marshes above two hundred and fifty miles 
 in length : on the north snows remaining four or five 
 months in the year : on a coast of three hundred leagues 
 extent ten or twelve cities, all built of brick, or of wood 
 painted of different colours, and containing from ten to 
 sixty thousand inhabitants : round these cities farm houses, 
 built of trunks of trees, and termed log-houses, in the center 
 of a few fields of wheat, tobacco, or maize; these fields 
 separated by a kind of fence made with branches of trees> 
 instead of hedges, for the most part full of stumps of trees 
 half burned, or stripped of their bark and still standing ; 
 while both houses and trees are enchased as it were in the 
 masses of forest, in which they are swallowed up, and dimi 
 nish both in number and extent the farther you advance 
 into the woods, till at length from the summits of the hills 
 you perceive only here and there a few little brown or yel 
 low squares on a ground of green. Add to this a fickle and 
 
23Q 
 
 VIllGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER variable sky, an atmosphere alternately very moist and very 
 
 '""' "*""" dry, very mity and very clear, very hot an<l very cold, and 
 
 a temperature so changeable, that, in the same day, you 
 will have spring-, summer, autumn, and winter, Norwegian 
 frost and an African sun. Figure to yourself these, and you 
 will have a concise physical sketch of the United States."* 
 The vast woods however afford, after the first frosts, a fine 
 object to the eye. (f These frosts wither the leaves of the 
 forests, and from this moment their verdure assumes tints 
 of violet, dull red, pale yellow, and mortdore brown, which 
 in the decline of autumn, imparts to American landscapes a 
 charm and splendour unknown to those of Europe." 
 
 History. The early emigrations, from the beautifully cultivated 
 
 face and mild atmosphere of England, to the American wil 
 derness and its then frightful atmosphere, must doubtless 
 have been caused by motives of no common urgency. The 
 first discoverer of this part of the American continent was 
 Gaboto, called Cabot by the English, a Venetian in the ser 
 vice of Henry the Seventh of England, who sailed along the 
 coast from the vicinity of Newfoundland to Virginia proper. 
 No colony however was sent thither by the English, till 
 the year 15^5, when a small settlement was formed by the 
 celebrated Sir Walter Raleigh, at Roanoke, in the presentpro- 
 vince of North Carolina. The whole of the region, which 
 now constitutes the territory of the United States, was then 
 named Virginia, in honour of the great Elizabeth, the virgin 
 queen. This appellation, not unbefitting the territory of a 
 
 * Volneyj p. 11. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 virgin commonwealth, the first independent stale or sove- CHAPTER 
 
 reignty established by Europeans in the New World, seems ' 
 
 still the most proper geographical name to denote this 
 region, as the term United States is not strictly geog aphi- 
 cal, but in fact political. This, attempt entirely failed. 
 The colony returned to England in the following year. 
 Nor were other endeavours more successful, till, excited by 
 the venerable Hakluyt, a clergyman, some persons of rank 
 formed an association for the settling of a colony, and ob 
 tained a patent for the purpose from Jarnes the First A 
 body of ad venture rs, who- arrived in the gulf of Chesapeak 
 in 1 607, formed the first permanent settlement of English 
 colonists in America. These, however met such discou 
 ragement, that they were on the point of returning to Eu 
 rope in 1610, when Lord Delaware, a public spirited noble 
 man, landed with supplies, and renovated their hopes. 
 They founded Jamestown at the mouth of the river James, 
 the oldest English town m the American continent, which 
 is now in a deserted condition. 
 
 An enthusiasm for civil and religious liberty, at that time 
 not enjoyed under the English crown, excited emigrations 
 to a part more unpromising in climate and in sail, the part 
 now called New England, but in those days North Virginia. 
 The town of Plymouth in Massachusetts was founded in 
 1621 by a hundred and fifty English adventurers, who 
 braved all the terrors of the wilderness and its rigorous and 
 morbific atmosphere. The sad hardships and mortality, 
 sustained by these colonists, were not sufficient to deter 
 others, who were animated with a like spirit, from following 
 
VIRGINIA, 
 
 their example. The intolerance of the government of 
 Charles the First so encreased emigration, that, before the 
 end of the year 1630, four other towns were founded in 
 New England, one of which was Boston, since become the 
 capital. The emigrations would have been greater, if they 
 had not been stopped by the tyranny of Charles, who em 
 bargoed the ships destined for America, neither suffering 
 his subjects to enjoy liberty of conscience at home, nor to 
 seek it in the wilds of the transatlantic hemisphere. Thus 
 were prevented from bidding an eternal adieu to their na 
 tive country Cromwell, Hampden, and others, who were 
 afterwards instigators of a revolution at home, which de 
 prived this monarch of his crown and life. The enthusiasm 
 for their favourite modes of worship, which prompted the 
 early colonists of New England to encounter the perils and 
 afflictions of such an exile, inclined them to deny, in their 
 new settlements, that toleration to others, the want of which 
 they had found so grievous in the land of their nativity. 
 Hence arose dissentious among the colonists, many of 
 whom removed to other parts of this region, where they 
 established settlements under jurisdictions distinct and sepa 
 rate from that of the original colony. A gloomy spirit of 
 fanaticism, and still far more an unhappy belief in witch 
 craft, caused a long time distractions in this country, which 
 at length were quieted by a sense of the evil occasioned by 
 the delusion. 
 
 As New England was planted by puritanic protestants, so 
 another part, denominated Maryland, in honour of Henrietta 
 Maria, the Queen of Charles the First, received, in the year 
 
VIRGINIA.' 233 
 
 1633. a colony of Roman Catholics,, who found their situa- CHAPTER 
 
 VII 
 
 tion uneasy in England, where the laws and popular preju- ' 
 
 dices were adverse to their sect. The leader of the emi 
 grants, who originally consisted of two hundred families, 
 was Lord Baltimore, whose conduct was honourable to the 
 religion which he professed, as, by his liberal toleration of 
 all sects, he rendered the colony prosperous. A small plan 
 tation of Swedes, who had made a settlement in the vicinity 
 of New England, became incorporated with one much 
 larger, or more powerful, formed by the Dutch. This was 
 conquered in 1664 by the English, who retained possession, 
 and gave to the acquired territories the names of New 
 York and New Jersey. The colony instituted on the fairest 
 principles was that of Pensylvania, founded in 1682 by 
 William Penn, a celebrated quaker, who, for a debt due 
 from the crown, had obtained a grant of the country from 
 Charles the Second, with ample powers of legislation. Not 
 thinking himself entitled to the property of the land by the 
 royal patent alone, he purchased that property from the 
 aboriginal inhabitants, with whom he entered into a formal 
 treaty. This treaty, says Voltaire, " was the only one 
 ever concluded between savages and Christians which was 
 not ratified by an oath, and the only one which was never 
 broken." For above seventy years indeed, or in fact so 
 long as the quakers retained the chief power in the govern 
 ment of Pensylvania, the peace and amity promised in this 
 compact remained inviolate. 
 
 Carolina, so denominated from Charles the Second, was, 
 "by a charter obtained from that monarch in 1663, planted 
 
 Gg 
 
VIRGINIA; 
 
 CHAPTER by a society of noblemen and others, who were vested with 
 
 VII 
 
 ' at once the property of the soil and the political jurisdiction. 
 
 Though the colony was furnished with a code of laws for 
 its government, composed by the celebrated John Locke, 
 such distractions among the colonists,, and such hostilities 
 with the Indians, were the consequences of maladministra 
 tion, that the interference of the British Parliament was at 
 length found necessary. The proprietors accepted, in 1728, 
 a compensation of twenty-four thousand pounds for the 
 surrendry of their rights : the government of the colony 
 was new modelled : and the territory was divided into the 
 two provinces of North Carolina, and South Carolina, with 
 separate administrations. This was the aera of prosperity 
 to these provinces, which have since improved rapidly in 
 riches and population. A similar fortune attended the plan 
 tation of Georgia, so denominated in compliment to George 
 the Second, and colonised under the inspection of General 
 Oglethorpe in 1732. Such dissentions arose from political 
 defects, that the colony was on the point of dissolution, 
 when, in 3752, the grievances of the planters were removed 
 by the British Government, who reformed the constitution 
 on the model of the Carolinas. 
 
 The histories of the several colonies afford for a long 
 time little matter which can be at present very interesting, 
 such as wars with the savages, intestine troubles, invasions 
 of some of their charters by the kings of the Stuart race, 
 and the restoration of their liberties in consequence of the 
 British revolution under the auspices of William Prom 
 wars between France and Britain arose hostilities between 
 
VIRGINIA. 235 
 
 these colonies and those of the French in Canada. Dis- CHAPTKR 
 putes were at different times adjusted by treaties between 
 
 the mother countries ; but at length the court of France 
 formed a plan, which was brought near to completion, for 
 the destruction and subjugation of the British settlements 
 in America. This was the forming of a chain of fortresses 
 from the Saint Lawrence river to the Missisippi, which 
 would have confined these settlements within very narrow 
 bounds, and enabled the French to lay them waste, with 
 the assistance of the savages, the entire force of all whose 
 tribes they would thus be empowered to employ. The 
 plan was frustrated by a war, in which the British troops 
 conquered Canada in the year 1759, and annihilated the 
 French power in the North American continent. Unfor 
 tunately the British government, whose arms had protected 
 its American subjects, soon adopted, under a new reign, that 
 of George the Third, very arbitrary measures, and turned 
 its arms against these subjects, in ; a war which terminated 
 in the establishment of the independence of the colonies 
 from every sort of subjection to the king of Britain. These 
 had so prospered under their free constitutions, that their 
 population had encreased to two millions, and was still in 
 a state of rapid progression. The scheme of the British 
 ministry for the abolition of their liberties appears to have 
 been part of a plan for the establishment of despotism over 
 the British nation, which plan became abortive by their 
 successful resistance. The ministerial pretext for the inva 
 sion of the rights of the colonies was the raising of a royal 
 revenue from them in addition to that of Great Britain and 
 Ireland. 
 
236 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER These colonies were governed internally by their several 
 * assemblies of elected representatives, in which presided 
 governors nominated by his Britannic Majesty, and had 
 never been taxed otherwise than by their own representa 
 tive bodies, in like manner as Ireland by its own parliament. 
 External taxation, on the system of commercial restrictions, 
 the right of which was not disputed, had been exercised by 
 the parliament of Britain toward these dependent states. 
 " Customs had been imposed on certain enumerated goods, 
 if carried to some other place instead of Britain ; and when 
 specific articles, the produce of one colony, were to be ex 
 ported to another, they paid a duty. To these imposts, 
 considering them merely as regulations of trade, and not 
 as taxes, the colonies had submitted." 
 
 41 
 
 To impose internal taxes on these states, by the mere 
 authority of the British parliament, could never have been 
 the wish of any minister who was wise, and consequently 
 honest. The clear and comprehensive mind of Sir Robert 
 Walpole, the real friend of his country, spurned at the idea. 
 Beside other declarations, he on one occasion thus expressed 
 his thoughts: " I will leave the taxation of America for 
 some of my successors, who may have more courage than 1 
 have, and be less a friend to commerce than 1 am. It has 
 been a maxim with me, during my administration, to en 
 courage the trade of the American colonies in the utmost 
 latitude : nay, it has been necessary to pass over some irre 
 gularities in their trade with Europe : for, by encouraging 
 them to an extensive growing foreign commerce, if they 
 gain Jive hundred thousana pounds, I am convinced, that, 
 
VIRGINIA. 237 
 
 in two years afterwards, full two hundred and Jiffy thou- CHAPTER 
 sand pounds of (heir gain will be in his Majesty's exche- " 
 
 quer, by the labour and product of this kingdom ; as im 
 mense quantities of every kind of our manufactures go thi 
 ther, and, as they ericrease in their foreign American trade, 
 more of our produce will be wanted. This is taxing them 
 more agreeably to our own constitution and to theirs." 
 This was doubtless the most productive mode possible of 
 drawing a revenue from the colonies. Two millions annu 
 ally were computed to accrue to the royal treasury from 
 their trade, and this income, from the rapid augmentation 
 of their population and commerce, might doubtless have en- 
 creased to an incalculable pitch. So far indeed were the 
 whig ministers of the first and second George from impos 
 ing taxes on them, that they procured for them consider 
 able sums from parliament to compensate their services in 
 wars against France. 
 
 The merit or demerit of giving commencement to a series 
 of aggressions on the free constitutions of the American 
 states rests with George Grenville, who, previously to his 
 imposition of an internal tax on the colonies, took measures 
 to render them less able than they had been to contribute, 
 by any impost, to the augmentation of the royal revenue. 
 A clandestine traffic had long been maintained between the 
 English and Spanish colonies, to the great advantage of 
 both, more especially of the former, and greatly to the emo 
 lument of Britain also, as British manufactures were by this 
 channel conveyed into the Spanish settlements, and large 
 quantities of silver received in return. To this beneficial 
 
S38 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHATTER <?ommerce, contrary not to British laws, but merely to Spa- 
 
 ;. : nish, a termination was put, in I?6f, by the minister ot 
 
 kins 1 George, who acted on this occasion as if he were an 
 
 O CJ * 
 
 officer of the custom-house for the Spanish monarchy. Un 
 der the pretence of measures for the prevention of smug 
 gling, for which he had made laudable regulations in Eu 
 rope, he stationed a line of armed ships, the commanders of 
 which seized all vessels employed in the prohibited trade 
 with the Spanish plantations. Beside the adoption of this 
 extraordinary measure, an act of parliament was procured 
 for granting of certain duties on goods in the colonies, and 
 a declaration of the expediency of imposing also in them 
 certain duties, by means of stamped paper, which should be 
 rendered necessary in pecuniary transactions. The passing 
 of this declaration into a law was postponed till the succeed 
 ing year, that the Americans might have time to offer a com 
 pensation for the revenue which such a tax might produce. 
 
 These Americans had sustained a tremendous war from 
 the tribes of savages in their neighbourhood, who, after the 
 pacification with France, had secretly entered into a general 
 combination, and had perpetrated the most horrible devasta 
 tions and butcheries, before they could be compelled to ac 
 cept a peace. Wantonly deprived, on one side, of their 
 lucrative commerce with the Spanish settlements, and deeply 
 impressed on the other, with a sense of grievous losses sus 
 tained from the savages, the colonists were in a state of great 
 irritation. " While such was the state of the public mind 
 in America, while the yell of Indian carnage was yet in their 
 , and the smoke of their ruined habitations yet in their 
 
VIRGINIA. 239 
 
 eyes, their rage and despair were further enflamM by the CHVPTER 
 
 arrival of the British resolutions for impost r taxes. A l - - 
 
 more unfavourable moment could not have ', ccn selected." 
 They saw in these resolutions the first appearance of an ex 
 tensive plan formed against their liberties and properties. 
 They determined therefore to strike at once at the basis of 
 it " by denying the right of the mother country to impose 
 taxes on the colonies, which, not being represented in par 
 liament, did neither really nor virtually consent to the im 
 position."* 
 
 Notwithstanding all the dissuasive arts of the colonists, 
 who employed agents to present petitions in Eng'-and 
 against the proposed taxation, a bill, called the stamp-act, 
 was passed by the British parliament, in 1765, for the rais 
 ing of an internal tax in America. The chief of these agents 
 was Doctor Benjamin Franklin, the planner of opposition 
 to the ministerial schemes of American mancipation. " Bred 
 a printer, this extraordinary man> through genius and in 
 dustry, regulated and directed by judgement, rose to a high 
 pihaacle of physical discovery. He soon shewed that the 
 mind, which could elicit fire from the heavens, eould eon- 
 verge and reverberate the rays of moral and political light ."f 
 On the notification of the stamp-act in America, the colo 
 nists, from sullen displeasure, were roused into overt acts of 
 violent resentment. Resolutions were formed throughout 
 the states not to import any of the merchandize of Britain 
 
 * Adolphus, Hist. George the Third. 
 
 \ Bisset, Hist. George the Third* 
 
240 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER until the obnoxious bill should have been repealed. De- 
 vu. 
 
 clarations were voted by the provincial assemblies in con 
 demnation of the impost. So general a combination was 
 formed to prevent by force the use of stamped paper, that 
 none dared to attempt either to distribute or to receive it. 
 Ministers, taking a middle course between two opposite 
 parties, the favourers of liberty and the planners of despo 
 tism, procured, in 1766, a repeal of the offensive bill, and 
 at the same time a vote asserting the right of parliament to 
 tax the colonies. In the following year duties were imposed 
 on some articles, payable on importation into America. To 
 frustrate this plan the colonists resolved not to import any 
 of these articles. 
 
 After various disputes, and a riot at Boston, between the 
 mob and the soldiery, in which a few of the former were 
 killed, tranquillity was in great measure restored by the 
 repeal of the censurable imposts, in 1770, except one very 
 moderate of three-pence a pound on tea, which was retained 
 for the maintenance of the right arrogated by the parli 
 ament. Determined always to resist such a claim, the 
 Americans adhered to their former agreements of non-impor 
 tation with respect to tea, but rescinded their resolutions 
 concerning all the other articles. Great discontents arose 
 in Massachusetts in 1772, and the succeeding year, from 
 innovations in their political constitution, and the discovery 
 of hostile sentiments entertained against them. These dis 
 contents were communicated to the other colonies by means 
 of corresponding committees. Amid the, general ferment 
 intelligence arrived, that many cargoes of tea were con- 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 signed from England to the ports of America, under the im- CHAPTER 
 post specified above. Measures so effectual were every : " 
 
 where taken, that in no place was the sale of this merchan 
 dize permitted. Without attempting to land it many ships 
 returned to Europe. Where its landing was effected, it 
 perished unsold in warehouses. At Boston, where the go 
 vernor consented not to the return of the cargoes to Europe, 
 a mob, disguised in the garb of Mohawk savages, boarded 
 the ships, and committed all the tea to the waves of the 
 ocean. 
 
 When all attempts for the taxation of the Americans, by 
 the mere authority of the British legislature, were thus ren 
 dered abortive, ministers had recourse to coercive measures, 
 for the attainment of their ends by the terror or force of 
 arms. Boston and the province of Massachusets were the 
 first objects of ministerial resentment. Bills for this purpose 
 were enacted by parliament ; one for the closing of the port 
 of Boston, or the total suspension of the commerce of that 
 city, until it should demonstrate full proofs of its obedience; 
 another for such a change in the constitution of the province, 
 as to abrogate its charter, and to render it virtually subject 
 to the arbitrary will of the king or of his deputy; and a 
 third for the empowering of the governor to send for trial to 
 England any persons accused of murder, or any other capital 
 crime, committed in the execution of the laws. This was in 
 fact a bill of indemnity for all violences perpetrated by the ad 
 herents of the crown in the enforcement of obedience. The 
 unexpected intelligence of these proceedings spread asto 
 nishment and alarm through the colonies. The punishment 
 
 H h 
 
 
 
242 
 
 CHAPTER of one province for having resisted a tax which all had re- 
 ' sisted was a manifest indication of danger to all. Deputies 
 from all the provinces, except Georgia, met in general 
 congress at Philadelphia, ia 1774, on the fifth of September, 
 to consult for their common safety. They framed a decla 
 ration of the principles and objects of theia 1 association, a 
 petition to the king and addresses to the people of Britain 
 and the colonies These were compositions of a masterly 
 kind, " Perhaps never subjects offered to their sovereign 
 an address consisting of stronger and more comprehensive 
 reasoning, with more impressive eloquence."* The sum of 
 their demands amounted to the restoration of their constitu 
 tional and chartered rights ; but all their applications were 
 treated with imperious contempt, and an army was sent to 
 Boston for the reduction of Massachusets, the prime object 
 to ministers of coercion and punishment. 
 
 A skirmish at Lexington, in 1775, on the nineteenth of 
 April, between a body of militia and a detachment of the 
 British garrison at Boston, sent to destroy American stores 
 at Concord, was the commencement of a civil war in Ame 
 rica of seven years* duration. To give here a narrative of 
 the various events of this unhappy war, unjustly waged by 
 the mother country against her children, comports not with 
 the plan of this publication. Of these I have written a brief 
 account in my history of the British Islands, f The general 
 issimo of the colonists, in this rueful contest, was George 
 
 * Bisset. f Gordon's History of the British Islands, Great Britain and 
 Ireland jointly, vol. 4, chap. 71 and 72. 
 
VIRGINIA. 243 
 
 Washington, a native of Virginia proper, who had served in CHAPTER 
 
 the American militia in the war against France, in which he 
 
 had evinced strong military talents. This leader, like the 
 
 Roman Fabius, was obliged long to confine his operations 
 
 to defensive warfare, from the great inferiority of his troops 
 
 in discipline, equipment, and even in number. He avoided 
 
 the shock of battle, and, while by various means he impeded 
 
 the enemy's progress, he endeavoured to preserve his men 
 
 by retiring from post to post. And indeed nothing can 
 
 shew more forcibly the zeal of his soldiers in the cause of 
 
 freedom, and his influence over them, than the hardships to 
 
 which they were persuaded to submit. ff His troops were 
 
 in a state of such deplorable misery, that sometimes their 
 
 march, from one place of encampment to the other, might 
 
 be traced by the blood which their bare feet left in the snow, 
 
 and hundreds were without blankets/' in these distressful 
 
 movements. 
 
 Though consternation, from the successes of the royal 
 arms, pervaded the Americans, the congress, who fled for 
 safety in 1776, from Philadelphia to Maryland, never in the 
 least betrayed any symptom of despondency, but made vigo 
 rous exertions for a renovation of the contest, and published 
 an appeal well calculated to resuscitate the spirits of the 
 people. The efforts of the congress were in no small de 
 gree seconded by the conduct of the British commanders, 
 who drove by despair to the ranks of rebellion multitudes 
 well inclined to the British government. Above all the 
 atrocious behaviour of the German mercenaries in British 
 pay, particularly in New Jersey, filled with desperation 
 
244; VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER those who were willing to reunite with the mother country. 
 
 Details of the enormities were taken on oath and published 
 
 by the congress. When those who submitted found their 
 condition worse than that of those who resisted, their minds 
 received a bias repugnant to loyalty. Unwilling to expose 
 herself to war, without a strong prospect of success> yet 
 wishing to embarrass her formidable rival, France had fur 
 nished secretly military stores to the Americans, while she 
 made the most pucific professions to the court of Britain. 
 At length, when a fair prospect of a favourable issue was 
 displayed, on the capture of a British army, under general 
 Burgoyne, in J777, she suddenly concluded a treaty of alli 
 ance with congress, which produced, in the following year, 
 a war between France and Britain. Spain, from similar 
 motives, joined in 1779 the hostile confederacy against the 
 British crown, whose forces proved inadequate, in the face 
 of such a combination, to subjugate the colonies. Concili 
 atory propositions had been repeatedly made to the Ame 
 ricans by Lord North, the prime minister of Britain, which 
 might have been severally effectual, if they had been pro 
 posed early enough, before events had taken place which 
 caused their rejection ; and now a virtual independence too 
 late was offered to the United States, in federal connexion 
 with the British crown. No situation could, in sober judge 
 ment, be more desirable, but they could not with honour, 
 prrhaps with safety, violate their recent engagement with 
 France, to which they had been so imprudently driven. 
 
 To this cause for the rejection of such advantageous 
 terms of peace might also have been added the then.esta? 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 Wished hatred of the colonists to their late sovereign and CHAPTER 
 his partisans, whom they considered as having employed V11 ' 
 every possible mode of barbarous warfare for their destruc 
 tion, the burning- of their towns, the devastation of their 
 territories, the frightful licentiousness of the ferocious mer 
 cenaries from Germany, the instigation of slaves to murder 
 or desert their masters, and the diabolical fury of the canni 
 bal Indians. Of the butcheries perpetrated among the 
 eolonists one in particular has stained the British annals 
 with indelible infamy. A band of sixteen hundred Indians 
 and American royalists, denominated tories, invaded the 
 settlement at Wyoming, situate in a delightful tract on the 
 river Susquehannah. Gaining possession of some forts by 
 treacherous promises, and of others by force, they put to 
 death all the inhabitants of both sexes and every age, some 
 thousands in number, inclosing some in buildings which 
 they set on fire, and roasting others alive. They then 
 maimed all the cattle, and left them to expire in agonies^ 
 and converted the whole charming plantation into a fright 
 ful waste. Such were the deeds instigated by the ministers 
 of a king, extolled to the highest pitch for compassionate 
 clemency, and paternal affection for his subjects. To take 
 vengeance on the Indians several parties of Americans 
 made expeditions through the wilderness, in a considerable 
 degree successful. 
 
 After various turns of fortune, when the impossibility of 
 conquest over the American states became too manifest to 
 admit a doubt, their independence was established in the 
 beginning of 1783 by a treaty of general pacification. Botb 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTKR Britain and her colonies sustained heavy losses by the war, 
 and the condition of each party, after its conclusion, was 
 considerably worse than before its commencement. Beside 
 humiliating concessions to her old enemies, the French and 
 Spanish courts, and the vast expenditure of blood, Britain 
 added a hundred and thirty millions to her public debt, and 
 suffered an alarming dismemberment of her empire. She 
 was burdened also with the maintenance of some thousands 
 of American royalists, whose properties were confiscated by 
 the governments of the United States for their hostilities 
 against their compatriots. The expense of this to the Bri 
 tish nation amounted nearly to ten millions. An indepen 
 dence far less desirable than a free constitution under the 
 British crown, was acquired by the Americans, at the ex 
 pense of devastations, a national debt of above seven 
 millions contracted in the war, and a great loss of people by 
 the sword, and by the expulsion of the royalists. Their 
 population and riches have since rapidly increased, and 
 wisdom directed their councils, so long as the great Wash 
 ington, who was elected their chief magistrate, held a 
 governing influence over their confederacy. For the exten 
 sion of their commerce and agriculture by the possession 
 of the Missisippi and its fertile valley, they acquired the 
 addition of Louisiana to their already vast territorial domi 
 nion, by purchase from France, in a treaty concluded in 
 1803. This country had been discovered by Ferdinand de 
 Soto, a Spaniard, in 1558, and had been very feebly colo 
 nized, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, by the 
 French, who called it Louisiana, from Louis, the name of 
 their sovereign, and founded the town of New Orleans, its 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 capital By a treaty between the courts of Spain and Prance, CHAPTER 
 from secret motives, in 1763, the dominion of all this terri- Vl1 ' 
 tory was transferred to the Spanish crown ; but, forty years 
 after, under Napoleon Buonaparte, it was sold, as French 
 property, to the United States. 
 
 The natural productions, the spontaneous growth, of the Vegetables, 
 vast territory of these states, such as they were found by the 
 first colonists, and such as they still remain where the face 
 of the land has not been altered by agriculture, must vary, 
 in a region of so great extent, with the nature of the soil, 
 and temperature of the air. The indigenous trees, compo 
 sing the primeval forest, which, for the for greater part, still 
 subsists, occasion, by their difference, a distinction or divi 
 sion of this immense wood into three parts, the southern, 
 middle,, and northern. The southern forest includes in ge 
 neral the maritime tracts from the gulf of Chesapeak south 
 ward, " on a soil of gravel and sand, occupying in breadth 
 from eighty to a hundred and thirty miles. The whole of 
 this space, covered with pines, firs, larches, cypresses, and 
 other resinous trees, displays a perpetual verdure to the eye, 
 but would not on this account be tlie less barren, if the sides 
 of the rivers, land deposited by the waters, and marshes, 
 did not intermingle with it veins rendered highly productive 
 by cultivation. The middle forest comprises the hilly part 
 of the Carol inas and Virginia proper, all Pensylvania, the 
 south of New York, all Kentucky, and the northwestern 
 territory, as far as the river Wabash. The whole of this 
 extent is filled witlt different species of the oak, beech, ma 
 ple, walnut, sycamore, acacia, mulberry, plumb*, ash, birch, 
 
248 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER sassafras, and poplar, on the coasts of the Atlantic ; and, i 
 
 "" .addition to those on the west, the chorrytree, horse chesnut, 
 
 papaw, magnolia, sumac, and others, all of which indicate a 
 productive soil, the true basis of the present and future 
 wealth of this part of the United States. These kinds of 
 trees, however, do not any where exclude the resinous, 
 which appear scattered throughout all the plains, and col 
 lected in clumps on the mountains. The third district, or 
 northern forest, likewise composed of pines, firs, larches, 
 cedars, cypresses, and others such, begins from the confines 
 of the former, covers the north of New York, the interior 
 of Connecticut and Massachusets, gives its name to the 
 state of Vermont,* and, leaving to the deciduous trees only 
 the banks of the rivers and their alluvions, extends by the 
 way of Canada toward the north, where it soon gives way 
 to the Juniper, and the meagre shrubs thinly scattered 
 among the desarts of the polar circle."f 
 
 The trees in general, howsoever lofty, are not very gross, 
 seldom exceeding thirty inches in diameter. In the low 
 grounds, however, of Kentucky, and other parts of the 
 western territory, they are found much larger, sometimes 
 eighteen or twenty feet in girth :J and in the warm climates 
 of the southern provinces, where splendidly flowering trees 
 and shrubs abound, some species grow to an extraordinary 
 size. The white cedar of the swamps is gigantic. Sup 
 ported by four or five immense roots or stems, which unite 
 
 s 
 
 * Verd-mont in French ; green-mountain in English. 
 + Volney, p. 911. 
 J Weld, Tol. 1, p. 280. 
 
VIRGINIA. 249 
 
 at about seven feet above the ground, the trunk of this CHAPTER 
 
 rises eighty or ninety feet, quite straight, and without any 1 
 
 branches, except at top, where they form a kind of beauti 
 ful umbrella. But the chief ornament of the southern forests 
 is the great magnolia. This rises above a hundred feet in 
 height, with a perfectly straight trunk, supporting a shady 
 cone of dark green branches, with purely white blossoms 
 shaped like roses, which are succeeded by crimson cones 
 containing red seeds. Among the indigenous products of 
 the soil are the candleberry myrtle and the sugar maple. 
 From the seeds of the former arises, by being boiled, to the 
 surface of the water, a scum of a greenish colour, which, 
 when purified, is of a middle nature between tallow and 
 wax, serving for the making of excellent candles, and for 
 other purposes still more valuable. The latter is a tree of 
 about the size of the oak, the saccharine sap of which, pro 
 cured by extillation from incisions made for the purpose, 
 yielded sugar by evaporations, in like manner as the juice 
 of the saccharine cane. But neither the quantity of sugar 
 obtained from this tree, nor of tallow from the myrtle, is 
 sufficient for its becoming an article of export, or even to 
 supply the consumption of the inhabitants. Vines of various 
 sorts are spontaneous and in plenty. One species, quite 
 like the vine which bears the common grape, is of so poison 
 ous a nature, as to blister the skin, when touched in the 
 morning while rnoist with dew. 
 
 The species of indigenous plants are extremely numerous, 
 but require not here particular notice. Beside cotton and 
 tobacco, and indigo in the south, the chief object of agri- 
 
 i i 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER culture is corn of various kinds, as wheat, barley, maize; 
 
 VI I 
 
 and rice, the last in the Carolinas chiefly and in Georgia. 
 
 Tobacco, the favourite plant of Virginia proper, is much less 
 cultivated now than formerly, since the crops of wheat have 
 been found more profitable. To clear the land from wood, 
 and to render it arable, the practice in these regions is as 
 elsewhere, to burn the timber, and to convert its ashes to 
 manure. To exhaust the vegetative powers of the soil by 
 the incessant culture, without a renovation of manure, and 
 then to leave it waste in a- state of sterility, has formerly 
 been, but is not quite so much now, the custom. The lands 
 thus abandoned, remain almost bare, or covered with use 
 less herbs, such as a kind of coarse grass or sedge, which is 
 wholely rejected by cattle, and which turns yellow at the 
 approach of winter. The fruits are mostly of the same kinds 
 as in Europe, but, except where they are carefully cultivated 
 in gardens, they are not of such quality as to deserve much 
 praise, as the peaches, for instance, which are small and 
 little succulent. In comparison of the English, the Ameri 
 can farmers are accounted slovenly, insomuch that, even in 
 Pensylvania, one of the most agricultural provinces, a 
 farmer is said not to raise more from two hundred acres 
 than one in the well cultivated parts of England from fifty.* 
 In Virginia proper, and the provinces situate farther south 
 ward, the works of the fields are performed by slaves. 
 Among these are many, on the estates of some planters, who 
 are employed in handicraft works, such as those of car* 
 penters, tanners, and wheelwrights. 
 
 * Weld, vol. l,.p. 112, 113. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 251 
 
 The cattle and other domestic animals of Europe have 
 been imported into the territories of the United States, and 
 are long naturalized in them. Of the indigenous kinds, 
 Avhich are noticed in my accounts of Northwestern America 
 and of Canada, some have disappeared, and some have be 
 come scarce, according to the extension of agriculture, and 
 the destruction made by hunters. The deer, which had 
 become comparatively few, have begun to increase again in 
 the woods of this region, particularly in the province of 
 New York, where laws have been enacted against the wan- 
 toii waste of these quadrupeds, since the venatic savages 
 have abandoned these territories, and retired far westward. 
 The wild fowl, particularly on the great rivers, are vastly 
 numerous, and excellent as food, especially a species called 
 the white duck or canvass-back, which is eagerly sought by 
 epicures. Snipes are seen in prodigious numbers in the 
 marshes. Immense flights of wild pigeons pass sometimes 
 here as in Canada The turkey buzzard, a kind of vulture 
 which devours putrid carcases, is, on account of its utility in 
 that respect, taken under the protection of law in Caro 
 lina. The birds are in general quite different from those 
 of Europe, though many of them have received the same 
 appellations from English colonists. Thus a bird, called 
 a partridge, from a similitude of its appearance, has 
 the size of only a quail. The singing birds in Virginia 
 proper are accounted the finest in America. tf The notes 
 of the mocking bird, or Virginian nightingale, are in parti 
 cular most melodious. This bird is of the colour and about 
 the size of a thrush, but more slender. It imitates the song 
 of every other bird, but with increased strength and sweet- 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VM. 
 
 Animals. 
 
252 VIRGINIA. 
 
 X 
 
 CHAPTER ness. The bird, whose song it mocks, generally flies away,. 
 as if conscious of being excelled by the other,, and dissatis 
 fied with its own powers."* On the whole amount, how 
 ever, the feathered tribes in these forests are inferior to the 
 European in melody. Some are highly brilliant in plumage, 
 as the blue bird, of about the size of a linnet, and the red 
 bird, which is less than a thrush, and is of a vermilion hue, 
 with a tuft on its head. A bird called whippervvill, from its 
 loud and plaintive cry, resembling that articulate sound, 
 which it begins at the dusk, and continues through the 
 greater part of the night, is so extremely seldom seen, that 
 some have imagined the noise to proceed from some species 
 of frog, and not from any animal of the feathered kind. 
 
 The frogs of this country are of various sorts and make 
 Tarious kinds of noises ; some absolutely whistle, while the 
 loud croaking of others is like the cry of a calf. This loud 
 sound proceeds from the bull frog, which grows to the 
 length of seven inches, and mqves with great agility, making 
 leaps of prodigious length. The serpents are also in great 
 variety. Some species are harmless, as the black snake, 
 which is often six feet long, but very slender, and some 
 beautifully variegated sorts, as the ribbon snake, the garter, 
 and blueish green. Some are venomous, as the rattlesnake 
 and the mocassin. The poison, of the latter, called also the 
 copper snake, is found less subtle than that of the former, yet 
 is mortal, without proper care. Among the insects is the 
 lire-fly, which illuminates the nights in summer, in the sour 
 
CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 VIRGINIA. 253 
 
 them parts. To the indigenous tribes of this numerous 
 class of animals have been added some by accidental or 
 designed importation. Thus the weevil,, a species of moth, 
 formerly unknown, has committed great havoc in corn in 
 the latter part of the eighteenth century, in the maritime 
 tracts, as also the Hessian fly, supposed to have been im 
 ported in the baggage of the German mercenaries, in the 
 war waged for the subjugation of the British colonies in 
 America. Of a very different character is the bee, which 
 appears to have been designedly carried here from the an 
 cient continent. Of the countless tribes of aquatic animals, 
 which swarm along the coast and in the rivers, I shall men 
 tion only one, the oyster, which abounds in the streams of 
 fresh water. These oysters, until they have undergone the ac 
 tion of fire, are unpalatable to Europeans; while those of Eu 
 rope are not, in any state, well relished by the Americans. 
 
 This region in general seems far from deficient in a va- Foiis* 
 riety of minerals and other fossils ; but iron as yet is the 
 only metal which has been drawn in great quantity from 
 the bowels of the earth. The ore of this metal, which in 
 Maryland, Pensylvania, and Virginia proper, is found ex 
 tremely tough, and fit for casting, for the making of cannon, 
 and other purposes, is procurable in abundance, without 
 much trouble, at little depth beneath the surface. Mines 
 of lead, copper, and other minerals, have also been disco 
 vered, but not extensively worked. Vast and numerous 
 beds of coal, stores for the use of future generations, lie at 
 present mostly neglected, as wood, which is so abundant, is- 
 preferred for fuel. Fossil salt and saline springs are copious 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPT-KR in many parts. Stone for building and other purposes is 
 
 ' - procurable in general with convenience in sufficient plenty. 
 
 According to the kind which forms the substratum of the 
 soil in different parts, the territory of the United States is 
 distinguished into different regions.* The granitic region, 
 where "the soil rests on beds of granite, which forms the 
 skeletons of the mountains, and admits beds of a different 
 nature only as exceptions/' extends from Long Island to 
 the mouth of the Saint Lawrence, and from the coast be 
 tween these limits to Lake Ontario. The region of sand 
 stone comprehends the mountainous country, from the 
 rivers Mohawk and Hudson, and the sources of the Sus- 
 quehanriah, southward to the northwestern angle of Georgia. 
 The calcareous region, where the soil is found to rest on 
 an immense stratum of limestone, occupies the land from 
 the Tenessee to the Saint Lawrence, between the moun 
 tains and the Missisippi. A stratum, or low ridge, of talky 
 granite, foliated si one, or Muscovy glass, from two to six 
 miles broad, and nearly five hundred long, runs in a direc 
 tion parallel, to the coast, from the banks of the river 
 Hudson to North Carolina. " This ridge every where 
 marks its course by the falls which it occasions in the 
 rivers, on their way to the ocean ; and these falls are the 
 extreme limits of the tide :" but it is chiefly remarkable for 
 being the line of separation between two regions, that of 
 marine sand and that of alluvions soil. The former, in 
 breadth from thirty to a hundred miles, between the ridge 
 and the Atlantic., consists chiefly of the substance from 
 
 Volney, p. 4372. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 which it takes its name. The soil of the latter, between 
 the ridge and the mountains, is composed of various sub 
 stances, which appear to have been carried from the high 
 lands by tlte rivers. 
 
 The commerce of these regions has been, and may pn> 
 habiy long continue to be, rapidly progressive, with the 
 progress of population, and the extension of agriculture. 
 The articles of export chiefly consist of the produce of 
 the forests, of the mines, of the cultivated farms, and of the 
 fisheries, beside the peltry obtained in traffic from the sa 
 vage tribes who inhabit vast wilds in the west. Thus we 
 find these articles principally to be timber in various forms, 
 bark for tanning and dying, pitch, tar, turpentine, potashes, 
 iron in pigs and bars, wheat, maize, rice, tobacco, live 
 cattle, beef, pork, dried and pickled fish, and skins and furs 
 of various quadrupeds. The value of the exported articles, 
 produced within the territories of the United Statesi 
 amounted, in the year 1803, to above forty millions of dol 
 lars ; and that of the articles of foreign produce to above 
 thirteen millions. The values of both had in 1801 been 
 greater, more especially of the latter, which had even 
 exceeded forty-six millions : but the trade encreased after 
 wards, insomuch that in 1806, the exports exceeded in 
 value a hundred millions of dollars, or twenty-five mil 
 lions of British pounds. The imports consist chiefly of 
 various manufactured goods from Europe, sugar and other 
 products of the West Indian regions, tea and other 
 merchandize of southern Asia. The annual value of the 
 imports from the British Islands alone had arisen to twelve 
 millions of pounds, before the traffic was interrupted by 
 
 255 
 
 CHAPTEfl 
 VH. 
 
 Commerce. 
 
256 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 Vil. 
 
 Area* 
 
 Population. 
 
 political disputes., early in the nineteenth century. The tun- 
 nage of shipping employed in the commerce of the United 
 States amounted in 1801 to above a million of tuns, of 
 which not quite a hundred and fifty-eight thousand were the 
 property of foreigners. To what state it may arise in future 
 ages, we cannot pretend to calculate with certainty, when 
 the immense territory belonging to the United States shall 
 have been furnished throughout with inhabitants. 
 
 This territory extends above eleven hundred miles in 
 length, since the acquisition of Louisiana, and perhaps still 
 more in its greater breadth, if its western limits were deter 
 mined, and contains an area of about a million of square 
 miles, or six hundred and forty millions of English acres. 
 The population is ill proportioned to so vast an area, which 
 is for the far greater part entirely waste or very thinly 
 peopled. The best inhabited parts are the province of Mas- 
 sachusets and others of New England, the southern territo 
 ries of New York, the interior of New Jersey, and the 
 southeastern tracts of Pensylvania. In these on an average 
 the population may be estimated at near eighty persons to 
 the square mile, or at the rate of about forty acres to each 
 family. The whole amount of the population, or number of 
 persons subject to the government of the United States, was 
 estimated in 1801 at above five millions and nine hundred 
 thousand, and may doubtless since be supposed six millions. 
 Of these above a million were blacks and rnulattoes, or peo 
 ple of colour, and of this number above a tenth were free 
 men, the rest slaves. Still within the territories regarded as 
 under the dominion of this government are several tribes of 
 
VIRGINIA. 257 
 
 savages, conjectured, toward the end of the eighteenth cen- CHAPTER 
 fciry, to consist of sixty thousand persons, but continually 
 
 diminishing in number from causes assigned elsewhere. 
 
 The division of the vast country of the United States is Government, 
 immediately connected with its government. In the revo 
 lutionary war, in the defence of the colonial constitutions 
 against the aggression of the mother country, affairs were 
 conducted by a provisional administration, under the direc 
 tion of a congress, and not till the year 1789 was a perma 
 nent system established. The government thus constituted 
 is a republic, composed of a number of confederate states, 
 each of which is separate and independent in its own internal 
 administration. The sovereign power is vested in a president 
 and two councils. The superior is called the senate, the infe 
 rior the house of representatives. The former consists of 
 members elected for six years, two from each state, the latter 
 of members elected for two years, each representing from 
 thirty-three thousand to fifty thousand people, according to the 
 progress of population. The executive power is committed to 
 thepresident, the supreme magistrate of the confederacy, elect 
 ed for four years by a majority of electors nominated for the 
 purpose by all the states severally. He can pardon offences, 
 except in cases of impeachment, but cannot form treaties 
 with foreign potentates without the consent of two-thirds of 
 the senators, who are also to advise in the appointment of 
 ambassadors. A vice-president is also chosen, to supply, in 
 emergencies, the president's place. The great outlines of 
 this government, only rendered more democratical, are 
 taken from that of England, as also the laws in general : 
 
 sk 
 
258 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 Division* 
 
 but these in some degree vary in the different states, each of 
 which has its particular provincial constitution, governed 
 commonly by a senate and house of representatives, elected 
 every year. The judicial function is performe* by one su 
 preme court of justice, and others of a subordinate rank, 
 and judges are appointed during good conduct. The city 
 of Washington, in the district of Columbia, a district be 
 longing to no particular state, but to the whole confederacy 
 in common, has been chosen for the residence of the presi 
 dent, and the seat of the federal government. The forces 
 of the confederacy, military and naval, must vary with cir 
 cumstances, as also the revenue, the gross amount of which 
 has been stated at above twelve millions of dollars in 1802, 
 but at little more than ten in the following year, at the rate 
 of about four shillings and six pence to the dollar. The 
 national debt may soon much exceed twenty millions of 
 British pounds. 
 
 The number of states composing this confederacy is liable 
 to be augmented, according as the government, in the en- 
 crease of population, may constitute new states, by con (er 
 ring that honour on such provinces as may have become 
 sufficiently populous to merit that consideration. In the 
 revolutionary war the number of states was only thirteen ; 
 but some have since been added, and others have grown into 
 a state of admission, so that we may reckon them at eighteen. 
 These are Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusets, Maine, 
 Rhode-Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pen- 
 sylvania, Delaware, Northwest territory, Maryland, Vir 
 ginia proper, Kentucky, North Carolina, Tenessee, South 
 
VIRGINIA, 
 
 Carolina, and Georgia. The six first of these are compre 
 hended under the general denomination of New England. 
 The modes of subdivision are not the same throughout the 
 
 O 
 
 states. Those of New England in general, New York J 
 New Jersey, and Pensylvania, are subdivided into counties 
 and townships ; and most of the townships in New England, 
 are again subdivided into parishes and precincts. The 
 territories of the states which are situated to the south 
 of Pensylvania, are generally divided into counties only. 
 The parts into which the lower country in South Carolina is 
 divided are parishes, which are nearly of the same nature as 
 counties elsewhere. The division into parishes, which 
 was originally ecclesiastical, cannot be expected now 
 to be regularly maintained throughout a country in which 
 no national church exists ; for here all modes of faith and 
 worship are quite in a state of political equality, the fol 
 lowers of none heing excluded by law from offices in the ad 
 ministration. The sects are numerous ; each supports its 
 own clergy : and all maintain the same degree of concord as 
 if they were members of one church. Doubtless they are all 
 members of the church of Christ, except some deists and a 
 small number of Jews. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 vu. 
 
 Religion. 
 
 A territorial subdivision into townships, incorporated dis 
 tricts, with or without towns, has place in the northern states. 
 As town and township in these countries are synonymous 
 terms, a European traveller may be often disappointed in 
 his expectation of meeting with a town, where only some 
 scattered habitations can be seen. Many towns within the 
 dominion of the United States are as yet in their infancy, 
 
 2 K 2 
 
 Towns. 
 
260 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 Boston. 
 
 while some have arrived at the summit of thei* advance 
 ment, and some have fallen into a state of decline. In gene 
 ral those which are so situated, as to have a navigable com 
 munication at once with the ocean and the interior country, 
 are progressive in population and wealth ; while those which 
 have a less favourable situation are in a stationary or retro 
 grade condition. Thus Williamsburgh, formerly the capital 
 of Virginia proper, is falling to decay, while Richmond 
 and Norfolk, more especially the latter, are augmenting ra 
 pidly. Many instances might be given ; but to be minute 
 in the account of towns, in a country where changes are in 
 such quick progression, that a totally different state of af 
 fairs may be expected in a time not far distant, seems not 
 expedient. 1 shall particularize a few, in the condition in 
 which they stood at the beginning of the nineteenth cen 
 tury. 
 
 Boston, the chief city of New England, in the county of 
 Suffolk, and state of Massachusets,, is seated on a- small pe 
 ninsula, at the bottom of Massachusets bay. With the ex 
 ception of two or three streets, it is irregularly built, but 
 displays a handsome prospect to spectators in the harbour, 
 from which it rises in amphi theatric form, adorned with 
 spires, which are overtopped by a monument, commemorative 
 of the revolution, o the highest spot, called Beacon-bilk 
 The number of its inhabitants has been estimated at from. 
 Boar fifteen to near nineteen thousand. Its harbour is excel 
 lent, capable of containing five hundred ships in safety, 
 but of so narrow an entrance as hardly to admit more than 
 two abreast. From the want however of a navigable com- 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 mimication with the interior country, this city, one of the 
 oldest in the United States, encreases very slowly in trade 
 and population. 
 
 New York, the second city of the United States in popu 
 lation and commercial wealth, stands on the southwestern 
 angle of York Island, an insular tract, fifteen miles long, 
 but not two in breadth, at the mouth of the Hudson river, 
 washed also by the waters of the strait which separates 
 Long Island from the main: With some exceptions, par 
 ticularly a street called Broadway, which extends, with a 
 breadth of near seventy feet, due northward almost from 
 shore to shore this town is irregularly built and incommo 
 dious with narrow lanes ; but by its vast extent of navigable 
 intercourse with the interior country, by the river Hudson, 
 and other conveniences, it increases so much in wealth and 
 population, and, in consequence of the former, improves to 
 such a degree in the taste of the builders that the additional 
 parts are on a much better plan. Its inhabitants appear to 
 have exceeded forty thousand in number at the commence 
 ment of the nineteenth century. The roofs of the houses/ 
 which are generally built of brick, are mostly covered with 
 tiles. Here no bason forms a harbour; but the river, and 
 the shelter of the Long Island, afford sufficient accommoda 
 tion to shipping. 
 
 The greatest city as yet in all the territory of the United 
 States is Philadelphia, the capital, of Pensylvania, situate 
 between the rivers Delaware and Skuylkil, five miles above 
 their conflux, founded by William Penn in i683. The 
 
 261 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 New York 
 
262 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER space planned, by the founder, for the groundplot of the 
 
 " : city was a righ tangled parallelogram, two miles long arid 
 
 one broad, extending to the banks of both rivers ; but suc 
 ceeding generations have so widely deviated from this plan, 
 that the dwellings extend near three miles along the Dela 
 ware, and nowhere more than to the distance of a mile from 
 ils bank ; and a part, called water-street, has been built 
 along the river, between the bank and margin, in so low a 
 situation as to have, by neglected filth, generated malignant 
 distempers. The houses, which stand outside the original 
 groundplot, are said to be in the liberties, as they are ex 
 empt from the jurisdiction of the corporation. In the liber 
 ties the streets are very irregular : but in the city, accord 
 ing to the projector's design, they all intersect one another 
 at right angles, and are from fifty to eighty feet broad, 
 except the principal one, which is a hundred feet wide. They 
 are tolerably well paved with pebble stones in the middle, and 
 with bricks for footways at the sides. Except a few of 
 wood, the houses are of brick, but very few are elegant. 
 With very little exception, the public buildings are heavy 
 tasteless piles of red brick, ill according with the blue mar 
 ble, with which they are ornamented. The population of 
 Philadelphia may have encreased to above fifty thousand, 
 and may still encrease to a much greater pitch, from its 
 advantageous position on the Delaware, which is navigable 
 to this city by ships of war of seventy-four guns, by sloops 
 thirty-five miles higher, and by boats of nine tuns a hun 
 dred miles still farther, beside an extensive navigation on 
 the Skuylkil. 
 
VIRGINIA, 
 
 The greatest town in Maryland, though not accounted 
 the capital,, is Baltimore, which from an assemblage of some 
 huts of fishermen, grew in thirty years into a population of 
 sixteen thousand, and doubtless now contains above twenty 
 thousand persons. The river Patapsco, on which it is 
 situated, and which falls into the Chesapeak inlet, forms a 
 harbour called the bason, capable of holding within it two 
 thousand merchant vessels, but ships mostly stop, for greater 
 convenience of wind and depth of water, at a place termed 
 Fell's point, above a mile lower, where has been founded 
 another town, encreasing fast in magnitude. The public 
 buildings in Baltimore are mean, as are also the greater 
 part. of the private houses, which are mostly, however, con 
 structed of brick : but the plan of the town is good, resem 
 bling that of Philadelphia. The streets intersect mostly 
 at right angles, and are from forty to sixty feet broad, be 
 side that the principal one is near eighty : but some are not 
 paved, and consequently npt clean. 
 
 Alexandria, seated on the southern bank of the river 
 Patowmac, in Virginia proper, is at present small, but ex 
 pected to be of considerable magnitude in future times, 
 from the advantages of its situation, whence it was origi 
 nally denominated Belhaven. It is as yet remarkable only 
 for its extraordinary neatness in comparison with other towns 
 in these countries. The houses are mostly of brick, and 
 many of them extremely well built. The streets intersect 
 one another at right angles, are well paved, and com 
 modious. 
 
 863 
 
 CHAPTKR 
 VII. 
 
 Baltimore. 
 
 Alexandria-. 
 
^VIRGINIA, 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 VI I 
 
 - 
 ll " ston ' 
 
 'Washington city, thus named from the great deader of 
 the revolutionary American troops, intended for the seat of 
 government of all the United States, and thence also deno 
 minated the federal city, is in a situation most happily chosen, 
 as being central between the northern and southern tracts, 
 and convenient for a navigable communication with the At 
 lantic, and an immense extent of country. It is seated on 
 the Potamac, in the fork formed by that great river with what 
 is called its eastern branch. The plan of this town, which is 
 as yet in its infancy, but promises to be, in some future age, 
 one of the greatest and most magnificent in the world, has 
 been maturely studied, and is supposed to be superior to 
 that of any other hitherto in existence. The streets, from 
 ninety to above a hundred feet broad, cross one another at 
 rijjht angles : beside which are to be avenues, a hundred 
 
 O O ' 
 
 and sixty feet wide, intersecting the streets obliquely, and 
 hollow squares, at the mutual intersections of these avenues, 
 destined for the reception of future monuments or decora 
 tions. Among the public buildings are the capitol, or 
 Jiouse of congress, the parliament-house, as it were, of the 
 United States, founded in a central spot, the highest in the 
 city ; and, a mile and a half from this, the patace of the 
 president, also in a commanding, and most beautiful situa 
 tion. 
 
 Chariestown, the capital of South Carolina, stands at the 
 confluence of the rivers Ashley and Cooper, whose streams 
 united form a capacious harbour. The ground plot is flat 
 and low, and the water brackish ; yet from ventilation of 
 sea-breezes and from cleanliness, the air is accounted 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 265 
 
 wholesome. The streets, from about thirty-five to sixty-six 
 feet broad, in general, are tolerably regular. The houses 
 are in great part neat, built of brick, and covered with tiles. 
 The number of inhabitants, which has probably since en- 
 creased, amounted, toward the close of the eighteenth cen 
 tury, to between sixteen and seventeen thousand, of whom 
 nearly eight thousand were slaves. 
 
 In a country as yet containing so few towns of consider 
 able magnitude, and situated at so great distances asunder, 
 the roads cannot be expected to be in general good. They 
 are mostly indeed in very bad condition, particularly in lovr 
 soft grounds, called bottoms, where they are often formed, 
 as in Russia, of trunks of trees, laid transversely, side by- 
 side, which are apt to sink into the yielding soil, or to 
 break by the repeated attrition of the wheels of waggons. 
 Nor in general are the bridges in much better plight than the 
 roads. 
 
 The bridges are mostly of wood. Many of them, covered 
 with loose boards, totter under the carriages which pass over 
 them. Some of a floating kind are well contrived, of which 
 we find three in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia, over the 
 river Skuylkil. " The floating bridges are formed of large 
 trees, which are placed in the water transversely, and 
 chained together. Beams are then laid lengthways upon 
 these, and the whole boarded over, to render the way con 
 venient for passengers. On each side there is a railing-. 
 When very heavy carriages go across these bridges, they 
 sink a few inches below the surface of the water ; but the 
 
 Ll 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 Roaili.. 
 
 Bridge*, 
 
VIRGINIA, 
 
 CHAPTER passage is by no means dangerous. They are kept in an 
 
 even direction across the river by means of chains and 
 
 anchors, in different parts, and are also strongly secured on 
 both shores. Over that part of the river where the channel 
 lies, they are so contrived that a piece can be removed to 
 allow vessels to pass through. These bridges are frequently 
 damaged, and sometimes entirely carded away, during 
 floods, at the breaking up of the winter, especially if there 
 happens to be much ice floating in the river. To guard 
 against this, when danger is apprehended, and the flood 
 comes not on too suddenly, they unfasten all the chains, by 
 which the bridge is confined in its proper place, and then let 
 the whole float down with the stream to a convenient part 
 of the shore, where it can be hauled up and secured/'* 
 Bridges supported by boats are also in use, like that of 
 Rouen in France, as at Richmond in Virginia proper, over 
 the river James. 
 
 Travellers are not better accommodated with inns than 
 with roads and bridges. " The mode of conducting them 
 is nearly the same every where. The traveller is shewn, on 
 arrival, into a room which is common to every person in 
 the house, and which is generally the one set apart for 
 breakfast, dinner, and supper. All the strangers, who hap 
 pen to be in the house, sit down to these meals promiscu 
 ously, and, excepting in the large towns, the family of the 
 house also forms a part of the company. It is seldom that a 
 private parlour, or drawing-room, can be procured at any 
 
 * Weld, Tol, 1, p. 33, 
 
VIRGINIA. gf)7 
 
 of the taverns, even in the towns ; and it is always with re- CHAPTER 
 
 VII 
 
 luctance that breakfast or dinner is served up separately to ' 
 
 any individual. If a single-bed room can be procured, more 
 ought not to be looked for ; but it is not always that even 
 this is to be had, and those, who travel through the country, 
 must often submit to be crammed into rooms where there is 
 scarcely sufficient space to walk between the beds."* Often 
 also (C at each house there are regular hours for breakfast, 
 dinner, and supper ; and if a traveller arrives somewhat be 
 fore the time appointed for any of these, it is in vain to call 
 for a separate meal for himself : he must wait patiently till 
 the appointed hour, and then sit down with the other guests 
 who may happen to be in the house/'f 
 
 Descendants all of emigrants from Great Britain and Ire- inhabitant*. 
 land, except an ad mixture, small in proportion, of colonists 
 from some other European countries, mostly from Germany, 
 the people of the United States are almost wholly English 
 in persons, language, manners, and customs. The devia,- 
 tions from this standard are slight, the consequences of local 
 and political causes. They seem to be in general of shorter 
 lives than Europeans, and are almost universally subject to 
 a very early decay of the teeth. The former may in great 
 measure arise from the great and sudden changes of tempe 
 rature in the air, which cause repeated colds and coughs, 
 debilitating the frame. The latter is attributed, and both 
 seem in a considerable degree attributable, to the constant 
 use of salt meat for food, the indigestions occasioned by too 
 
 * Weld, Tol. I, p. 28. 
 
 i Idem, vol. 1. p. 41, 
 
268 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 Slaves. 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 frequent eating, and the drinking of tea and other liquids in 
 a hot state. Local differences, however, have place amono- 
 
 * ^5 
 
 them. Thus in the lowlands of Virginia proper, the Caro- 
 linas, and Georgia, the lower classes of people have a sallow 
 complexion and sickly aspect ; while in the northern terri 
 tories and the highlands throughout, more especially the 
 latter, they are florid and of a healthy appearance. Beside 
 the descendants of Europeans, two other kinds, of people 
 inhabit the territories of the United States. Indians and 
 Negroes. The former very few, and becoming annually 
 still fewer, are elsewhere described. The latter, very nu 
 merous in the southern provinces, not in the northern, are 
 partly freemen, but mostly slaves. 
 
 The slaves are differently treated according to the dif 
 ferent disposition of their owners and the situations of 
 affairs. In Virginia proper, f( the slaves on the large plan 
 tations are in general very well provided for, and treated 
 with mildness. Their quarters, the name whereby their 
 habitations are called, are usually situated one or two hur*- 
 dred yards from the dwelling house, which gives the ap 
 pearance of a village to the residence of every planter. Ad 
 joining their little habitations they commonly have small 
 gardens and yards for poultry, which are all theic own 
 property. They have ample time to attend to their own 
 concerns, and their gardens are generally found well stocked, 
 and their flocks of poultry numerous. Beside the food 
 which they raise for themselves, they are allowed liberal 
 rations of salted pork and Indian corn. They are forced 
 to work certain hours in the. day : but, ia return, they are 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 269 
 
 clothed, dieted, and lodged comfortably, and saved all 
 anxiety about provision for their offspring. Still, however, 
 as long as the slave is conscious of being the property of 
 another man, who can dispose of him according to the dic 
 tates of caprice, particularly amid people who are constantly 
 talking of the blessings of liberty, he cannot be supposed to 
 feel equally happy with the freeman. What is here said 
 respecting the condition and treatment of slaves appertains 
 to those only who are upon the large plantations in Virginia 
 proper. The lot of such as are unfortunate enough to fall 
 into the hands of the lower class of white people, and of 
 hard taskmasters in the towns, is very different. In the Ca- 
 rolinas and Georgia, again, slavery presents itself in very 
 different colours from what it does even in its worst form in 
 Virginia proper. It is no uncommon tiling there to see 
 gangs of negroes staked at a horse race, and to see these 
 unfortunate beings bandied about from one set of drunken 
 gamblers to another, for days together. How much to be 
 deprecated are the laws which suffer such abuses to exist I 
 Yet these are the laws enacted by a people who boast of 
 their love of liberty and independence, and who presume to 
 say, that it is in the breasts of Americans alone that the 
 blessings of fceedon* are held in just estimation."* 
 
 This furnishes an idea, far from favourable, of manners 
 in the southern provinces. In fact the use of slaves, where- 
 ever it prevails, is observed to contaminate the morals of the 
 people ; nor can literature be supposed to have extensive 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 Literature* 
 
270 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 Manners. 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 influence in such a state of society. The use of letters 
 indeed, so far as the reading and writing of the English 
 language, is almost universally diffused, especially in the 
 northern .parts, and hooks in abundance are procurable 
 from England. Yet literature, comparatively with Britain, 
 was in a very low state at the conclusion of the eighteenth 
 century. The colleges deserved rather the title of grammar 
 schools, and were in every respect very mean and poor.* 
 These, however, have since increased in number and in 
 merit. Academies have been established, whose discove 
 ries and observations are regularly published. Information 
 is much diffused by magazines and newspapers, though 
 doubtless of inferior value, as in the British Islands ; and 
 with growing wealth and population, where the press is 
 quite free, we may expect a growing knowledge and taste 
 in literature. 
 
 In manners the inhabitants of these countries, denominated 
 collectively Anglo-Americans, are as yet much inferior to 
 the people of the British Islands, as being in a state of 
 society more immature. This difference is much more 
 conspicuous in the lower than in the higher classes, and 
 more in some provinces and cities than in others. Society 
 may be naturally expected to improve, and future ages to 
 present a picture different from the present ; but we can 
 only state affairs as they are described in our own times, or at 
 least toward the commencement of the nineteenth century. 
 Jn politeness, hospitality, and the pleasures of conversation 
 
 * Weld, tol. 1, p. 167, 168, 2i9. 
 
VIRGINIA* 271 
 
 and social intercourse, the gentry of Philadelphia are ae- CH-APTER 
 counted the most deficient. Here, " among- the uppermost - 
 circles, pride,, haughtiness, and ostentation are conspicuous*. 
 In the manners of the people in general there is a coldness 
 and reserve, as if they were suspicious of some designs against 
 them, which chills to the very heart those who- come to 
 visit them. In their private societies a tristesse is apparent> 
 near which mirth and gaiety can never approach. It is no 
 unusual thing, in the genteelest houses, to see a party of 
 from twenty to thirty persons assembled, and seated round 
 a room, without partaking of any other amusement than 
 what arises from the conversation, most frequently in whis 
 pers, which passes between the two persons who are seated 
 next to each other. The party meets between six and 
 seven in the evening : tea is served with much form : and at 
 ten, by which time most of the company are wearied with 
 having remained so long stationary, they return to their 
 home*. Still, however, they are not strangers to music, 
 cards, or dancing. Their knowledge of music, indeed, is at 
 a very low ebb ; but in dancing, which appears to be their 
 most favourite amusement, they certainly excel."* This 
 doubtless is not in unison with the system of the quakers, the 
 founders of this city and colony : but the population is so 
 altered by the influx of other sects, that quakere now con- , 
 
 stitute hardly a fourth part of the inhabitants. 
 
 The conduct of affairs in the theatre of 
 gives not an idea of refinement in manners. * A 
 
 * Weld, TO!. 1, p. 22,- 
 
272 YIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER custom obtains of smoking tobacco in the house, which at 
 
 VII. 
 
 times is carried to such an excess, that those to whom it is 
 
 disagreeable are under the necessity of going away. To 
 the people in the pit, wine and porter is brought between 
 the acts, precisely as if they were in a tavern. The actors 
 are procured, with very few exceptions from Great Britain, 
 and Ireland. None of them are very eminent performers, 
 but they are equal to what are usually met with in the 
 country towns in England/'* The gentry in Virginia pro 
 per appear to be higher in the scale of civilization. In the 
 rural parts they closely resemble their English progenitors, 
 especially in the lowlands, where they are celebrated for 
 their politeness and hospitality toward strangers. The 
 citizens of Baltimore in Maryland have a similar reputa 
 tion, as alo the gentry in other parts of this province : but 
 the citizens of New York " have long been distinguished 
 above those of all the other towns in the United States, un 
 less the people of Charlestown should be excepted, for their 
 politeness, gaity, and hospitality; and indeed, in these 
 points, they are most strikingly superior to the inhabitants of 
 the other large towns." In general the people of the sea 
 ports, open to the Atlantic, are more improved in manners 
 than those of the interior. 
 
 With the exception of some sea-ports, the people of the 
 lower classes in general are remarkable for an extreme rude 
 ness of demeanour, an extraordinary selfishness, a restless 
 ness with respect to their places of abode, a vexatiously 
 
 * Weld, rol. 1, p. 24. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 27S 
 
 impertinent curiosity, and a proneness to faction. This CHAPTER 
 rudeness is carried to its highest pitch in Philadelphia. The ^IL 
 vulgar " return rude and impertinent answers to questions 
 couched in the most civil terms, and will insult a person who 
 bears the appearance of a gentleman, on purpose to shew 
 how much they consider themselves upon an equality with 
 him. Civility cannot be purchased from them on any terms. 
 They seem to think that this is incompatible with freedom, 
 and that there is no other way of convincing a stranger that 
 he is really in a land of liberty, but by being surly and ill 
 mannered in his presence." A sullen and disobliging be 
 haviour is practiced even by those who are appointed to at 
 tend the guests at inns. ff Nevertheless they will pocket 
 your money with the utmost readiness, though without 
 thanking you for it. Of all beings on earth Americans are 
 the most interested and covetous." From the character 
 of restlessness and of a factious spirit the colonists from 
 Germany are excepted : but " by the desire of making mo 
 ney both the Germans and Americans, of every class and 
 description, are actuated in all their movements. Self-inte 
 rest is always uppermost in their thoughts : it is the idol 
 which they worship, and at its shrine thousands and thou 
 sands would be found, in all parts of the country, ready to 
 make a sacrifice of every noble and generous sentiment 
 which can adorn the human mind."* This thirst of gain is 
 the cause of the restless arid migratory disposition of the 
 .people, who are perpetually on the search for bargains of 
 land, removing from place to place in quest of their great 
 object. 
 
 * Weld, vol. 1, p. 30, 115, 127 
 M 111 
 
74 VIRGINIA; 
 
 CHAPTER Jn pursuit of this great end " the American is wholly re- 
 
 """*"" gardless of the ties of consanguinity. He takes his wife 
 
 with him, goes to a distant part of the country, and buries 
 himself in the woods, hundreds of miles distant from the 
 rest of his family, never perhaps to see them again. In the 
 back parts of the country you always meet numbers of men 
 prowling about to buy cheap land : having found what they 
 like, they immediately remove : nor, having once removed, 
 are these people satisfied : restless, and discontented with 
 what they possess, they are forever changing. It is scarcely 
 possible, in any part of the continent, to find a man, among 
 the middling and lower classes o Americans, who has not 
 changed his farm and residence many different times. 
 Thousands of acres of waste land are annually taken up in 
 unhealthy and unfruitful parts of the country, notwithstand 
 ing that the best settled and healthy parts of- the middle 
 states would maintain, five times the number of inhabitants 
 which they maintain at present. The American, however* 
 in every, change, hopes to make money."* The spirit of 
 migration, which we find to have prevailed among the Phoe 
 nicians, Grecians, and other nations of antiquity, by whair 
 soever motives excited, is among, the means employed by 
 Providence for the peopling of the earth. 
 
 The impertinent curiosity of the Anglo-Americans gives 
 great annoyance to. travellers. Immediately on his arrival 
 among them, " a stranger must tell whence he came, wni- 
 ther he is going, what his name is, what his business is ; 
 until he gratifies their curiosity on these points, and 
 
 * Weld. yol. 1, p. 126, 
 
VIRGINIA. g7 
 
 many others of equal importance, he is never suffered to re- CHAPTER 
 main quiet for a moment. In a tavern he must satisfy every - 
 fresh set that comes in, in the same manner, or involve him 
 self in a quarrel, especially if it is found out that he is not a 
 native, which it does not require much sagacity to discover." 
 What renders this teazing custom still more provoking is, 
 (hat these Americans te scarcely ever give satisfactory an 
 swers at first to the enquiries which are made by a stranger 
 respecting their country, but always hesitate, as if suspicious 
 that he was asking these questions to procure some local 
 information, in order to enable him to over-reach them in a 
 bargain, or to make some speculation in land to their in 
 jury." Beside this, when it is known, " that a stranger is 
 from Great Britain or Ireland, they immediately begin to 
 boast of their own constitution and freedom, and give him to 
 understand, that they think every Englishman a slave, be 
 cause he submits to be called a subject." Yet they are never 
 satisfied with the administration of their own government. 
 They are forever cavilling at some of the public measures. 
 Party spirit is forever creating dissentions among them, and 
 one man is continually endeavouring to obtrude his political 
 creed upon another."* Their political constitution indeed 
 is too democraticai, whence in great part arises the rudeness 
 of their manners. 
 
 The manners of the vulgar in the southern provinces, 
 where doubtless they are worst, are more than rude, and 
 may be justly denominated savage. Thus in Virginia pro- 
 
 * Weld, Tol. 1, p. 124, 1*5, 134. 
 
 2 M 2 
 
276 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VII. 
 
 islands. 
 
 per, " whenever these people come to Wows, they fight just 
 like wild beasts, biting, kicking, and endeavouring to tear 
 each other's eyes out with their nails. It is by no means 
 uncommon to meet with those who have lost an eye in a. 
 combat, and there are men who pride themselves upon the 
 dexterity with which they can scoop one out. This is 
 called gouging* To perform the horrid operation, the 
 combatant twists his fore fingers in the sidelocks of his 
 adversary's hair, and then applies his thumbs to the bottom 
 of the eye, to force it out of the socket. If ever there is a 
 battle, in which neither of the persons engaged loses an eye, 
 their faces are however generally cut in a shocking manner,, 
 with the thumb nails, in the many attempts which are made 
 at gouging. But what is worse than all, these wretches, in 
 their combat, endeavour to their utmost to tear out each 
 otherV virile parts. In the Garolinas and Georgia, the 
 people are still more depraved in this respect that in Vir 
 ginia proper, insomuch that in some particular parts of these 
 provinces, every third or fourth man appears with only^ 
 one eye.* 
 
 The islandsj which lie along the coast of this vast region, 
 are mostly of small importance in comparison of the im 
 mense extent of territory to which they are politically 
 attached. On the coast of Maine is Mount-desart Island, 
 fifteen miles long, and twelve broad, and containing, in the 
 
 * Weld, vol. 1, p. 192. The account here given, -where I have quoted 
 only one traveller, is confirmed by several others. 
 
VIRGINIA. 277 
 
 year 1790., between seven and eight hundred persons. Two CHAPTER 
 isles, called Cranberry islands, situated on the southeastern VII> 
 side, assist to form a harbour where an inlet penetrates 
 into the land. 
 
 
 
 Nan tucket, politically belonging to the state of Massa- 
 ohusets, extending fifteen miles in length, with a medial 
 breadth of about four, and containing a harbour, is inha 
 bited by near five thousand people, who chiefly subsist 
 by fishing, particularly for whales, in the taking of which 
 they are in the highest degree expert. The ancient woods 
 have been totally destroyed, and the Indians, who formerly 
 amounted to near three thousand, have, without any wars 
 with the colonists, become extinct by diseases and the use 
 of rum. 
 
 Martha's vineyard, belonging also to Massachusets, 
 twenty-one miles long and six broad, contains between 
 three and four thousand inhabitants, who subsist by fishing, 
 by agriculture, and by the breeding of cattle. 
 
 Block Island, and Fisher's Island, the former of which, 
 belonging politically to the continental state called Rhode 
 Island, is inhabited by near seven hundred people, are quite 
 inconsiderable. The latter is regarded as an appendage 
 of Long Island, far the greatest of all on these coasts. 
 
 Long Island, parted from the continent by a strait OP 
 sound from three to twenty-five miles broad,, stretches to & 
 
278 VIRGINIA. 
 
 CHAPTER length of .a hundred and forty miles, with a medial breadth 
 - : of ten. The land in the northern parts is rough with hills ; 
 in the southern low, with a light sandy soil. Tracts of salt 
 meadow abound on the coast. Near the center of the 
 island isHampstead plain, sixteen miles long- and eight 
 broad, never known to produce other vegetables of spon 
 taneous growth than a particular kind of grass and some 
 shrubs, although the soil, which is black, is apparently rich. 
 Eastward .of this lies brushy plain, overspread with brush 
 wood, which gives shelter to a vast number of grouse and 
 deer. About the middle of the. isle is a lake or pond, termed 
 Rockonkama^ about a mile in circuit, which is said to ebb 
 and flow regularly in periods of years, from some unknown 
 cause. The number of inhabitants, who are generally of 
 Dutch descent, is estimated at near forty-two thousand, of 
 whom near five thousand are slaves. This island, which 
 belongs to the state of New York, is divided into three 
 counties, which are subdived into nineteen townships, 
 
 Staten Island, situated nine miles southward of New 
 York city, extends about eighteen miles in length, with a 
 medial breadth of six or seven. , It is rough with hills, ex 
 cept # level tract on the southern side. Its inhabitants, 
 mostly of Dutch and French descent, are estimated at 
 nearly four thousand in number. 
 
 The rest of the islands are too isconsiderable to merit a 
 description. A chain of insulated stripes of land, or sandy 
 beaches^ above a hundred miles long, but hardly a mile 
 
VIRGINIA. 279 
 
 broad, mostly covered with small trees or bushes, from the CHAPTER 
 boundary and shelter of Pamlico sound, on the coast of North ' 
 
 Carolina, from the Atlantic ocean. Ranges of small islands, 
 at a short distance from the continent, are seen along the 
 coasts of South Carolina and Georgia. 
 
281 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE BAHAMAS, 
 
 TERMED also the Lucayas, form a numerous group of CHAPTER 
 small islands, extending near seven hundred miles, in a ' 
 
 northwesterly direction, from the vicinity of Hispaniola to 
 that of Florida, parted from the vast island of Cuba by a 
 sea called the Old Bahama Channel, and from the American 
 continent by another sea, improperly denominated the gulf 
 of Florida. The greater islands, including clusters of isles, 
 are estimated at fourteen in number, the smaller at least at 
 seven hundred. The latter consist in great part of rocky 
 islets and what are called quays by mariners. These quays 
 or keys are small sandy isles, appearing a little above the 
 surf of the water, and destitute of other vegetation than a 
 few shrubs or weeds. The Bahamas in general are nar 
 row slips of land, and, with little exception or variety, low 
 in surface, but rising almost perpendicularly from the bot 
 tom of the ocean, in such a manner as to be immediately 
 surrounded with unfathomable water. Many of them are 
 environed, altogether or in part,, by reefs of rocks parallel 
 to the shores, and at a small distance from them, imme 
 diately outside of which the ocean often admits no soundings, 
 
 N n 
 
THE BAHAMAS. 
 
 CHAPTER but inside is found a bottom of fine white sand, or of rocks 
 
 VIII 
 
 covered with sea weed. Great part of the tract of ocean 
 
 over which these isles are scattered is occupied by two exten 
 sive shoals, called the great and little Bank, of which the 
 edges are in many places marked by quays or islets, and 
 the bottom of white sand, visible at the depth of twelve or 
 twenty feet, gives a kind of a light colour to both the sea 
 and sky. The great bank in the south seems three hundred 
 leagues in circuit : the little bank in the north not half so 
 much. 
 
 Although, from the light colour of the bottom, and the 
 transparency of the Water, navigation, with due attention, is 
 easy and safe on the banks, yet these islands to navigators 
 are dangerous in the extreme, particularly in the season of 
 winter, from the violence and uncertainty of the currents 
 and eddies. Often while the mariner is steering one course, 
 he is carried by the current in an almost opposite direction^ 
 and finds his vessel in a desperate situation before he is 
 aware. The island called the great Inagua, situated near 
 the mouth of the channel between Cuba and Hispaniola, 
 termed the windward passage, is quite infamous for ship 
 wrecks On a dangerous reef, at some distance from its 
 shore, many ships have been driven to inevitable destruc 
 tion. So perpetually expected are shipwrecks, that forty 
 sail of small vessels, denominated wreckers, manned with 
 expert seamen, well acquainted with every isle and channel, 
 are licensed by the British government of the Bahamas to 
 keep the sea in all weathers for the saving of the lives and 
 properties of wrecked mariners, who pay salvage for the 
 goods preserved by their exertions. 
 
THE BAHAMAS. 
 
 The extraordinary dangers of navigation among these CHAPTER 
 islands are not ascribed to a tempestuous atmosphere. Al 
 though in winter the weather is very inconstant, and strong 
 gales often add to the peril of seamen, yet that season is not 
 so uniformly boisterous here as in more northern latitudes, 
 and the trade-wind, with a little deviation toward the north, 
 continues mostly to blow. The winter is doubtless the 
 least comfortable part of the year ; yet its temperature is 
 so mild, that the trees are never entirely stript of their fo 
 liage, and the mean warmth of the air, in the hottest part 
 of the day, is marked by at least seventy-two degrees of 
 Fahrenheit's thermometer. Toward the middle of March 
 a rigour of vegetation, which had previously been languid, 
 denotes the spring. The mean heat of summer, in the hot 
 test part of the day is rated at about eighty-six degrees of 
 Fahrenheit. The mercury in that instrument has seldom 
 risen above ninety degrees in the most ardent season, and 
 as rarely sunk below fifty in the coldest. Through the 
 greater part of the year the sky is delightfully serene, the 
 temperature generally agreeable, and the air at all times 
 wholesome.* 
 
 The isle of Guanahani, one of the Bahamas, was the 
 first American land discovered in 1492 by the renowned 
 Columbus, who named it San Salvador, from the safety 
 which it afforded him from the perils of his voyage. By 
 the cruelty of the Spaniards the innocent and simple na- 
 
 * The account of the Bahamas is principally taken from 
 Tour through the British West Indies. London, 1804. 
 
 2*2 
 
284 THE BAHAMAS. 
 
 CHAPTER fives were in a few years wholly exterminated, and this 
 
 group of islands long remained in a desert state. From the 
 
 representations of Captain Sayle, an English navigator, 
 who was driven on one of them, which he called New Pro 
 vidence, in 1667, King Charles the Second of England made 
 a grant of the Bahamas to the Duke of Albemarle and five 
 other proprietors. The little colony, planted at New Pro 
 vidence, became licentious, refused obedience to its gover 
 nors, and committed depredations on the Spanish settlements. 
 The Spaniards, after frequent ineffectual attempts to exter 
 minate the obnoxious colony, at length, in 1708, assisted 
 by the French, destroyed the plantation and expelled the 
 colonists, who retired to the woods, and thence to Carolina. 
 This, as well as the rest of the Bahamas, again became a 
 desart, but was soon after chosen as a station by a body of 
 pirates, who found it a convenient retreat on account of the 
 shoal water on the banks, and the numerous quays inaces* 
 sible to large vessels, and of dangerous approach to any. 
 The most infamously daring of this crew was John Teach, 
 nicknamed Blackbeard, whose successful audacity was so 
 alarming, that in 1718 the British government sent a re 
 spectable force to quell the depredators and reduce the 
 colony to order. Since that event the colony of New 
 Providence has remained under British government with 
 little interruption, and has encreased in wealth and numbers, 
 but the rest of the islands continued almost desert till the 
 conclusion of the American war in 1783, when many loyal 
 Americans emigrated to them from South Carolina and 
 Georgia, and formed plantations in them. 
 
THE Bill AM AS. 285 
 
 So little successful have these new colonists been in their CH \PTER 
 
 agricultural projects, that many, after years of trial and the 
 
 ruin of their properties, have deserted the ungrateful soil to 
 try their fortunes elsewhere, insomuch that, without some 
 unexpected turn in their favour, these islands seem to 
 threaten to become again desert. " Although nature in all 
 these islands spontaneously brings forth many vegetables 
 both curious and beautiful, she has hitherto refused to resign 
 
 o 
 
 herself to continued cultivation. The exotics, which are 
 introduced, seem feebly and unsuccessfully to struggle with* 
 cold winds, the droughts, and unfriendly seasons ;. while a 
 crop of hereditary and worthless weeds takes possession o 
 the soil prepared for cultivation, and extracts all its nourish 
 ment to administer fertility, as they decay, to the native and 
 unprofitable forest trees succeeding them." The planters 
 have not found any of the indigenous vegetables fit objects 
 of culture. Among these i& the wild lemon, the wild coffee, 
 the wild tobacco, the wild pimento, the wild cinnamon, the 
 eascarilla, the candlewood, which is so bituminous as to an 
 swer in some respects the purpose of candles; the butter- 
 bough, the greasy leaf of which is nutritious for cattle ; the 
 cork wood> which is so light as to be a substitute for cork ; 
 and the braziletto, which affords a beautiful scarlet dye. 
 The timber, particularly the mahogany, is large enough for, 
 being formed into the ribs and beams of small ships but not 
 into boards and sheathing. Cotton, the staple object of 
 culture in the Bahamas, was a product of the soil before 
 their discovery by Europeans, but the sorts which are culr 
 tivated are exotic. Beside that the soil becomes in a few 
 years effete for the prouuction of this vegetable the crop is 
 
286 THE BAHAMAS. 
 
 CHAPTER often damaged or destroyed by insects called the red bu<> 
 
 VIII. 
 
 and the chenille. The ants are also destructive to the 
 
 plantations. 
 
 The chief articles of commerce furnished by these islands 
 are cotton, salt, turtle., different kinds of fruit, mahogany 
 timber, woods and barks for colouring. The salt is pro 
 duced in vast quantities by the action of the sun-beams on 
 the water of the ocean, admitted into shallow ponds in the 
 land. " The calcareous rock, of which the land is composed, 
 lies generally in horizontal layers. From the violent action 
 of the sea, which has evidently, and perhaps recently, beaten 
 over them, the surface every where appears worn, fretted, 
 and broken into holes, or often deep excavations. Hence 
 the ocean's water finds a passage, and has formed in many 
 parts of the interior extensive salines or ponds. Early in. 
 the year, when the powers of the sun begins to encrease, ac 
 companied with dry weather, the salt every where in these 
 natural ponds begins to crystallize and subside in solid 
 cakes. It remains then only to break the crystals, and rake 
 the salt on shore : and by this easy mode a single labourer 
 may rake from forty to sixty bushels of salt in a day. The 
 process however is facilitated by making small pans, which, 
 as the salt is taken out, may be replenished with brine from 
 the pond."* Among other amphibious animals the turtle 
 or tortoise, so highly prized for its excellent flesh, resorts in 
 great number to the quays least frequented by mankind, 
 where it is occasionally taken by men to whom it is an ob- 
 
 * Mac Kiimen, chap* 6 
 
THE BAHAMAS. 287 
 
 ject of commercial speculation. The alligator, whose flesh CHAPTER 
 resembles that of the sturgeon, is eaten by the inhabitants. * 
 
 Among the few indigenous animals not aquatic is the guana. 
 The offsprings of imported quadrupeds are not numerous, 
 except that of the domestic cat, which has multiplied consi 
 derably. Among the birds is the green parrot, the bald 
 pigeon, and the beautiful crane called the flamingo. The 
 last associates in great flocks far from the habitations of 
 men. 
 
 The total number of inhabitants in these islands is small, 
 and seems also in a state of decrease. Some are absolutely 
 desert, as the great Bahama, which has given its name to the 
 vvhole group. Others contain only a few people. Thus on 
 the cluster of isles called Caicos only twelve heads of fami lies 
 and between two and three hundred slaves were enumerated : 
 on crooked island forty plantations and a thousand negroes : 
 on San Salvador forty heads of families and four hundred 
 and fifty-eight slaves : and on New Providence, far the most 
 populous, somewhat above five thousand persons of all sorts. 
 The last named island approaches in form an equilateral pa 
 rallelogram, with a diagonal of twenty-seven miles, and 
 acute angles projecting to the east and west. Its land is 
 uncultivated, except the environs of its capital, the town of 
 Nassau, the seat of government of the Bahamas, within 
 which almost all its inhabitants dwell. It owes its popula 
 tion to the profits of a sea-faring life, and the excellence of 
 its harbour, sheltered by a long quay, or insulated slip of 
 land. The governor, with an income of near three thousand 
 pounds a year, acts in conjunction with the two houses of 
 
288 THE BAHAMAS, 
 
 CHAPTER provincial legislature, the upper and lower, chosen from 
 among the people of the several islands. 
 
 With the exception of New Providence, the larger islands 
 of this group are narrow in proportion to their length. 
 This is most strikingly the case with Long Island, which 
 extends near a hundred miles in length, but in medial 
 breadth not more than three. Toward the end of the 
 eighteenth century eight hundred slaves were employed 
 here in agriculture, but many plantations have since been 
 deserted. Crooked Island is remarkable for its irregular 
 shape, and vast excavations formed in some of its rocks by 
 the action of the waves. Of the clusters of small islands 
 one is termed the Turks, from a dwarfish kind of cactus 
 resembling a Turkish turban. Of these, abounding in salt, 
 the greatest, called the Grand Turk, is about twelve miles 
 long and two broad. Another cluster is that of the Caicos, 
 consisting of some larger and many smaller isles, parted by 
 narrow channels, and lying in the form of a crescent, which 
 opens to the south. The soil in the middle isles of this 
 cluster is accounted the best in the Bahamas. Lucaya and 
 Bahama, each of which has given its name to the whole 
 group, seem to be held in little estimation. 
 
289 
 
 THE BERMUDAS, 
 
 A solitary cluster, seated in the Atlantic, above two hun 
 dred leagues from the coast of Virginia, the -nearest land, 
 are accounted about four hundred in number, but most of 
 them are barren islets. They form a figure approaching 
 that of a crescent, about thirty-six miles long and six broad, 
 environed by dangerous reefs of rocks and shoals. They were 
 discovered in 1522 by John Bermudez, a Spanish navigator, 
 who found them destitute of inhabitants. In 1593 they 
 were visited by some Englishmen, and in 1609 Sir George 
 Somers, an English captain, was wrecked on their coast, 
 from whom they were denominated the isles of Somers, or 
 the Summer Islands. Two years after this they received an 
 English colony, which so increased that in the latter part 
 of the seventeenth century it consisted of about ten thousand 
 persons, but has since decreased to half that number. The 
 land is generally high and rugged, interspersed with fertile 
 spots of soil, and destitute of water, except what is preserved 
 from rain in cisterns or procured by sinking wells. The 
 temperature is so mild, that the trees are verdant through 
 out the year, the spring is perpetual, and the air salubrious ; 
 "but storms and thunder are frequent, and hurricanes are too 
 often felt. The chief indigenous trees are cedar and pal 
 metto. The chief object of culture is maize. The few 
 quadrupeds are of imported breeds. The indigenous ani 
 mals are chiefly birds of various kinds. No venomous 
 
 o o 
 
90 SABLE , ISLAND. 
 
 re ptiles are found here. The principal island, called Saint 
 George, sixteen miles long and two broad, contains the 
 only town in the cluster, the town of Saint George, the seat 
 of government, consisting of about five hundred houses. 
 This island is divided into nine districts, to which the inha 
 bitants of the rest severally belong. The chief objects of 
 manufacturing industry are sailcloth, and the building of 
 small vessels of cedar, which are valued for swift sailing. 
 
 SABLE ISLAND, 
 
 OR the Isle of Sand, situated alone in the Atlantic, twenty- 
 three leagues distant from the nearest land, Cape Canso in 
 Nova Scotia, extends in the form of a bow, in length eight 
 leagues, in breadth not above half a league. It is destitute 
 of inhabitants, and totally unfit to receive a colony. It is 
 seated on a vast sand-bank OF shoal, the water on which 
 gradually deepens in receding from the coast, to fifty fa 
 thoms. Two bars extend far from the two ends of the isle, 
 on which and on the shores the surf continually beats with 
 Vast noise and violence. The coast is quite inhospitable, 
 affording no harbour. The approach to it is dangerous 
 even to boats. Landing is practicable on the northern 
 
SABLE ISLAND. 291 
 
 shore only, and in calm weather. The whole isle consists CHAPTER 
 
 VIII* 
 
 of fine white sand, mixed with white transparent stones. 
 
 Its face presents a strange appearance, uneven with sand 
 hills, knobs, and cliffs, confusedly jumbled. The sandhills 
 are of a shape approaching a conical figure, of a milk-white 
 hue, and sometimes near a hundred and fifty feet high. 
 Along the middle of the island, through half its length, 
 extends a narrow pond, supplied with water from the ocean 
 at each tide of flood, through a narrow gut on the northern 
 side, twelve feet deep at the time of low water, abounding 
 in seals and other aquatic animals. Many ponds of fresh 
 water are contained in other hollows, on the sides of which 
 grow juniper, blueberries, and cranberries. No trees are 
 here produced, but much of what is called beach-grass, wild 
 peas, and other vegetables, the food of horses, cows, anil 
 hogs, which here are wild in a state of nature. 
 
 
CHAPTER 
 VIII. 
 
 Cape.Breton. 
 
 
 THE ISLANDS OF SAINT 
 LAWRENCE, 
 
 SEATED in the sea of Saint Lawrence, improperly termed a 
 gulf under the same appellation, consist of the isles of Cape- 
 Breton, Saint John or Prince Edward, Anticosti, and some 
 others of inferior magnitude, all under subjection to the 
 British crown. The first> termed also lie Roy ale by the 
 French, is parted from Nova Scotia by the strait called 
 Fronsac Passage or the gut of Canso, about half a league 
 wide. This island, colonized early in the eighteenth cen 
 tury by the French, was conquered by the English in the 
 year 1758, under whose government it still remains. It 
 extends about a hundred miles in length and sixty in breadth, 
 but is so deeply indented as to be divided into two peninsu 
 las, connected by an isthmus about half a mile broad. Its 
 coast, environed by pointed rocks, some of which are visible 
 above water, is high and almost inaccessible on the northern 
 side, but affords many receptacles for shipping on the eas 
 tern, all of which have a turning toward the south. One of 
 these, the harbour of Louisburgh, with an entrance of four 
 hundred yards in width , a winding length of four leagues, 
 and a depth of at least seven fathoms every where, is one of 
 the finest in the northern regions of America. The land is 
 mountainous in the interior, and so abounds in lakes, that 
 the lower grounds appear to be half covered with water. 
 From these, which remain long, frozen, and from. the thick 
 
THE SAINT LAWRENCE ISLES. 293 
 
 forests wbich intercept the sun's rays, the air is cold and CHAPTER 
 foggy, though not supposed unwholesome. From such a 
 state of the atmosphere, and the poverty of the thin soil, 
 which yields little else than moss, the land is little fit for either 
 agriculture or the breeding of cattlei The inhabitants 
 therefore, who are few in number, depend for subsistence on 
 the fisheries in their neighbourhood. Mines of coal abound, 
 also of plaister of Paris, and some say of iron. The go 
 vernor, at orrce a civil and military officer, resides at the 
 little town of Sidney, accounted the capital. 
 
 The isle of Saint John, lately denominated Prince Edward^s saint John, 
 island, is severed from the continent by a channel called 
 the Red sea, from three to six leagues wide, and from nine 
 to twenty-five fathoms deep, but of dangerous navigation on 
 account of rocks which border its northern bank. The island, 
 above a hundred and ten miles long, but scarcely ten broad, 
 where widest, and deeply indented by many inlets, bends 
 into a figure approaching that of a crescent, and terminates 
 in two points, that of North cape in the northwest, and that 
 of East point on the eastern side. The numerous inlets form 
 many harbours and roads for anchorage, several of which 
 are commodious. The winter is long, and intensely cold, 
 as in all the neighbouring countries, but the air is healthy, 
 although subject to fogs. The land is of a level nature, well 
 watered, and fertile, furnishing copious supplies of excellent 
 timber, and good pasturage, and productive, where cleared, 
 of all the kinds of grain of northern Europe. The crops 
 however are oft injured by fogs which cause mildew, and by 
 destructive insects, which swarm in the heat of summer. 
 
294 
 
 THE SAINT XAWRENCE ISLES. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 VIII. 
 
 Anticosli. 
 
 
 This island, colonized by the French in 1719, was seized in 
 1758 by the English, by whom it is still retained. It has 
 been granted by the British government to several proprie 
 tors in districts of twenty thousand acres each, called town 
 ships, and also in smaller called half townships. An en- 
 creasing colony has thus been established, the number of 
 whose people was computed some years ago at seven thou 
 sand. The seat of its government, subordinate to that of 
 Nova Scotia, is Charlestown or Charlottestown, seated near 
 the middle of the southern coast. 
 
 Anticosti, situated at the mouth of the vast river Saint 
 JLawrence, extends in length above one hundred and twenty 
 miles, and in breadth, where it is widest, thirty. The coast 
 is destitute of harbours, although the sea is very deep close 
 to the shore; and flat rocks, which stretch far into the wa 
 ter from each extremity, render to shipping the approach 
 hazardous. From the shores, which are flat, the land rises 
 gently toward the central parts, but not so high as to form 
 hills. It is very scantily watered, containing only some 
 pools and rivulets, the channels of which are dry in summer. 
 The sandy soil mixed with rocks, is barren, yielding only 
 stunted wood and plants. The whole is of little value. It 
 is destitute of inhabitants, except that it is occasionally 
 visited by savages engaged in hunting or the fishery. The 
 property of the land, which belongs to some families in 
 Quebec, under British government, might be purchased for 
 a small sum. 
 
The smaller isles consist of those of Saint Paul, the Mao-- CHAPTER 
 
 VIII 
 
 dalenes, the Bird isles, Saint Peter, and Miquelon. The 
 first is quite desert, parted from the northern extremity of SnuUer 
 Cape-Breton by a safely navigable channel, four leagues 
 wide. Of the Magdalene islands, eight in number, situated 
 twelve league* to the north of Cape-Breton, the largest, 
 containing a deep harbour, consists of a rock, covered with 
 a thin stratum of earth, inhabited by a few fishermen. The 
 Bird isles are two rocks, rising more than a hundred feet 
 above the sea, and terminating above in flat surfaces, 
 covered with the dung of immense flocks of birds, which fre 
 quent them chiefly in the breeding season. The isles of 
 Saint Peter and Miquelon lie near the southern coast of 
 Newfoundland. They are barren and of no value except as 
 convenient stations for the fishery. The former, two leagues 
 in length, is furnished with a good harbour for small vessels, 
 of which it can contain thirty. The latter is somewhat 
 larger, and is less barren, as it produces more wood. Mi 
 quelon however is conceived to consist of two isles, the 
 greater and the less. The latter, situated southward of the 
 former, is more woody, but otherwise not valuable. 
 
296 
 
 NE WFO LTNDL AND, 
 
 CH vm ER FORMING on one side the boundary of, the sea of Saint 
 Lawrence, is parted from Labrador by the strait of Belleisle, 
 which affords every where good anchorage in a depth of 
 thirty or forty fathoms, but is of dangerous navigation in the 
 night on account of the force and uncertainty of its currents. 
 By a multitude of inlets, some of which penetrate very deeply 
 into the land, the coasts of this great island are broken in so 
 extraordinary a manner as to form a vast number and variety 
 of capes and peninsulas. Of the two greatest and most 
 remarkable of the latter one extends far northeastward from 
 the western side, constituting the northwestern portion of 
 this country, which nearly approaches a triangle in figure, 
 The other, advancing from a very narrow isthmus toward 
 the southeast, is itself so pierced by two opposite bays, that 
 its eastern part forms also a peninsula. Of the multitude of 
 inlets, by which the coast of Newfoundland is every where 
 indented, so many are commodious for the reception of ships, 
 that no country is known, in proportion to its size, to furnish 
 so great a number of safe and convenient harbours. To 
 enumerate all such would be to frame a larn;e catalogue. 
 
 ~ o 
 
 To particularize two or three may suffice. In the western 
 side of the great northwestern peninsuly, lies a bay termed 
 by the French Ingornachoix, which from a narrow, but per 
 fectly safe, entrance divides into two branches, of which the 
 northern., called port Saunders, is preferable oa account of 
 
NEWFOUNDLAND, 
 
 its deeper water, but the whole forms one of the noblest CHAPTER 
 harbours in the world. Far inferior in size, though near vm ' 
 six miles in length, is Capelin bay, on the eastern side of 
 the great southeastern peninsula, but not inferior to any in 
 safety and convenience. Near this lies the smaller harbour 
 of Ferryland, the inner part of which, called the Pool, is as 
 completely sheltered from all winds as a dock. 
 
 Bancroft Library 
 
 The coasts of this island are generally rugged, and ser 
 rated with rocky promontories. One of the most remark 
 able is Cape Broyle, near Capelin bay, which presents to 
 distant mariners the appearance of an enormous saddle. 
 The interior parts exhibit a wild and dreary scene of bleak 
 mountains and hills, marshy plains, quagmires, lakes, and 
 dark forests. Many of the mountains approach the shores 
 as those which border the bay of Saint George in the south 
 western quarter, and the chain which is denominated Blow- 
 me-down hills, in a more northern part of the western coast. 
 The lakes and marshes, which occupy so great a portion of 
 the surface, furnish waters to many rivers, of which none 
 seem to be navigable by ships through any considerable 
 length of course. They have however been Uttle explored. 
 The greatest is the Humber, which, issuing from a conge 
 ries of waters in the northwestern peninsula, flows toward 
 the southwest, nearly parallel to the western coast, through 
 a course of sixty leagues, to the bay of islands in that quarter. 
 The river Main, the drain of extensive lakes and marshes, 
 which falls into the bay of Saint George on the same coast, 
 is broad and of considerable depth, but of extremely difficult 
 entrance to boats on account of a bar of sand across its mouth, 
 
 p p 
 
298 NEWFOUNDLAND.* 
 
 CHAPTER on Which the waves break with creat violence. Among- the 
 
 VIH. 
 
 ' cataracts is one called the Spout, on the eastern coast of the 
 
 great southeastern peninsula, formed by a body of water 
 impelled through a fissure of a rock, and falling from such a 
 height as to exhibit the appearance of volcanic smoke, visi 
 ble far at sea, and thus furnishing a landmark. 
 
 The winter in Newfoundland is intensely cold, and of so 
 long duration that the summer is too short for the bringing 
 of corn, and other objects of agriculture, to maturity. The 
 atmosphere is tempestuous, and in summer extremely foggy. 
 Yet the air is wholesome in an uncommonly high degree. 
 The fogs often render navigation dangerous, yet a circum 
 stance has been observed concerning them which appears 
 to be peculiar. " It often occurs that the whole of the ocean 
 around Newfoundland is enveloped in so dense a fog, that 
 it is apparently impossible for a ship to proceed on her 
 course, without incurring the most imminent danger of ship 
 wreck : but, at the same time, there is generally a small 
 space, within a mile or two of the shore itself, entirely clear 
 of the vapour, and, as it were, forming a zone of light around 
 the coast : so that a person, acquainted with this singular 
 phenomenon, will, in some cases, be enabled to attain his 
 port ; while a stranger, on the other hand, is afraid to ap 
 proach the island."* From the bleakness of the atmosphere, 
 and the poverty of the thin soil, the efforts of agriculture 
 would be vain for the sustenance of mankind. Moss, trees, 
 and shrubs are the chief spontaneous products. The timber 
 
 * Chappell's Voyage to Newfoundland, p. 63. 
 
NEWFOUNDLAND. 299 
 
 seems in general neither large, nor of much value except CHAPTER 
 
 VIII 
 
 for fuel. The trees by which the country is in general ' 
 
 overspread, are mostly pine, spruce, fir, larch, and birch. 
 From an infusion of the tender branches of the spruce, 
 mingled with molasses, a wholesome beverage is made by 
 the inhabitants. Among the shrubs is the juniper, and other 
 kinds which yield berries of different species. Berries which 
 are delicious in tarts or puddings may be found in marshy 
 grounds in prodigious quantities. 
 
 Where the land is so little productive, quadrupeds, except 
 the aquatic sorts, cannot be numerous. Hares, deer, squir 
 rels, porcupines, and bears are found in the woods. The 
 reindeer and others of the venison are scarce. The porcu 
 pines are in plenty, and their flesh is much esteemed. 
 Wolves, foxes, lynxes, and martins are natives of the island. 
 Some of the foxes in the northern parts are said to be black. 
 Seals abound along the coast, and beavers and otters inhabit 
 the borders of the lakes and rivers. Tame quadrupeds are 
 very few except dogs, the genuine species of which, deno 
 minated from this island, so highly esteemed for docility, 
 patience of cold, and endurance in the water, has become 
 very scarce. Dogs are here the beasts of draught, employed 
 in the drawing of loads, particularly of wood for fuel. 
 Aquatic birds are in vast number around the coast and in 
 the lakes and marshes of the interior. Those which frequent 
 the fresh .water are chiefly ducks-and geese. . Partridges are , 
 in great plenty. A species, called the spruce-partridge 
 from its feeding on the bark of the spruce, resembles the 
 
300 NEWFOUNDLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER common partridge of England in colour, shape, and size, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 but it perches on trees, and is so tame as to suffer itself 
 often to be knocked down with poles. The flesh of this 
 bird is bitter when roasted, but has a delicate taste when 
 dressed as a fricassee. Among the insects is the musquitOi 
 which proves a plague in the heat of summer. The lakes 
 and rivers abound in fish, such as trout and salmon, to an 
 extraordinary degree, and the neighbouring sea is most co 
 piously stored, especially with cod. Of the fossils of this 
 island, as no search has been made for them, we can only 
 say that porphyry of several colours has been found, and 
 that beds of coal are supposed to be abundant. 
 
 This great island is valuable only for the abundance of 
 codfish around its coasts, and on the Great Bank, or vast 
 submarine tableland, in its vicinity, already noted in the 
 General View prefixed <o this work. These fish are taken 
 by hook and line. The bait used in this business is either 
 the herring or the capelin. The latter seems to be peculiar 
 to the coasts of this country and of Labrador. It is a small 
 and delicate fish much resembling the smelt. For the de 
 positing of its spawn on the sandy beaches it visits these 
 coasts about August and September in such shoals that 
 each often darkens the sea through the space of a mile or 
 more. They rush with such violence to the shores, that 
 many of them expire on the dry sand, unable to regain their 
 native element. The fishery of cod, which commonly 
 commences early in May, and terminates at the close of 
 September, is prosecuted chiefly on the great bank, but also 
 
NEWFOUNDLAND. 30 1 
 
 on all the ccasts of the island, except the northwestern, to CHAPTER 
 
 VIII. 
 
 which this animal is said never to resort. These creatures 
 
 bite with such voracity, and are taken with such quickness, 
 that two lines, \>ilh two hooks at each, held by the same 
 man, are perpetually in motion, alternately pulled above 
 the surface of the water, the one constantly descending while 
 the other ascends. In the process of curing-, each fish passes 
 through the hands of three men, to each of whom is assigned 
 his particular office. " With such amazing celerity is the 
 operation of heading, splitting, and salting performed, that 
 it is not an unusual thing to see ten cod-fish decapitated, 
 their entrails thrown into the sea, and their backbones torn 
 out in the short space of one minute and a half."* After the 
 salting the fish are dried in the sunbeams on shore, to render 
 them fit for exportation* Fifty thousand tuns of shipping 
 are supposed to be employed every year in this fishery, 
 bearing twenty thousand men ; and six hundred thousand 
 quintals, or hundred weights of cod, are computed to be 
 annually exported from the island. This merchandize, 
 with oil of seals and fish, constitutes almost the whole of 
 the exports of this country, which is supplied with pro 
 visions and manufactured goods from abroad. 
 
 Newfoundland was discovered in 1497, or the following 
 year, by an English squadron under the command of John 
 Gabot, or Sebastian, his son, In some time after this, some 
 English fishermen began to frequent the eastern coasts. 
 To give a government to such, for the prevention of disputes 
 
 * Chappell, p. 
 
302 NEWFOUNDLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER among- them, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, in 1583, took posses- 
 sion of these parts under a commission from Queen Eliza 
 
 beth. Encouraged by the success of the English, the 
 French formed settlements on the northern and southern 
 coasts, particularly at the great bay of Placentia. After 
 various disputes for the dominion of the island, the whole 
 was surrendered by France to England by the treaty of 
 Utrecht in 1713, with a reservation to the French of a right 
 to fish on the great bank, and of the possession for that 
 purpose of the unfortified isles of Saint Peter and Miquelon. 
 Since that time this country has constantly remained under 
 the dominion of the British crown, but the French and 
 Anglo-Americans are permitted to fish on the banks in its 
 vicinity. The government is vested in a vice-admiral of the 
 British navy, in whose absence, which has place in winter, 
 when the harbours are frozen, his authority devolves to a 
 military officer styled the lieutenant-governor. In case of 
 the hitter's deatli the power is exercised by the chief justice 
 until the vacancy is filled. 
 
 The area of this triangular island, of which the southern 
 base extends about three hundred miles, and the altitude 
 from south to north near two hundred and eighty, may con 
 tain, with allowance made for its inlets, full twenty-four mil 
 lions of acres. The population is ill proportioned to such a 
 space. The inhabitants consist of Europeans, and a very 
 small number of indigenous people. Subsisting solely on 
 the profits of the fishery, the former dwell only on the 
 coasts, almost all indeed on the eastern. Of these the 
 greater part are not permanent inhabitants, but return at 
 
NEWFOUNDLAND. 303 
 
 the end of the fishing season to Europe, where they remain CHAPTER 
 
 VIII 
 
 during the long winter. Of the permanent settlers, " the 
 
 lower classes are generally composed of turbulent Irishmen, 
 whose unwearied industry during the fishing season in sum 
 mer, is forcibly contrasted with their unbounded licentious 
 ness in winter. Indeed all ranks of society appear to con 
 sider debauchery as the only antidote to the tcedium vitee, 
 which prevails between the month of December and the 
 recommencement of the fishery in the May following."* 
 Of the number of Europeans in either summer or winter I 
 can find no estimate on which we can rely. A colony of 
 Miemacs, settled in Saint George's bay, emigrants from 
 Cape-Breton and the neighbouring parts> are indigenous 
 Americans, though not aboriginals of Newfoundland. They 
 They have so intermarried with Europeans that in 1813, the 
 number of purely indigenous exceeded not fifty persons of all 
 ages and both sexes. Indeed the whole of the inhabitants 
 around this bay, amounted not to more than two hundred 
 and nine. The truly indigenous, termed Red Indians from 
 a red colour with which they tinge the hair and skin, are 
 extremely few, inhabiting the interior, and the northeastern, 
 northern, and northwestern parts. Barbarously treated by 
 ignorant fishermen,' these savages, who at first were found 
 friendly and obliging, have conceived so implacable an 
 enmity to Europeans as completely to avoid all kinds of 
 intercourse with them. They " study the art of conceal 
 ment so effectually, that, although often heard, they are 
 seldom seen :' J f anil, when seen, they run away, and ex 
 pertly disguise their tracks from the discovery of pursues 
 
 * ChappeU, p. 52. t Idem, p. 180. 
 
304 NEWFOUNDLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER The town of Saint John, the capital, and indeed the only 
 - collection of houses in the island which can merit the title 
 
 of a town, is seated ou the eastern coast of the great south 
 eastern peninsula, on an excellent harbour, with a long and 
 narrow, but safe and not difficult entrance, between rocky 
 precipices of enormous height on the northern side, and a 
 rugged mountain on the southern. The town, which may 
 perhaps be in a state of improvement, has hitherto con 
 sisted of one street, narrow, mean-looking, and dirty, com 
 posed chiefly of wooden houses, and extending all along one 
 side of the harbour. The number of its inhabitants fluctu 
 ates and is uncertain. They are numerous in summer, but 
 few in winter. Placentia, situated on a bay of that name, 
 is small, but next to Saint John's in size and population.* 
 Many small islands lie around the coast of Newfoundland, of 
 which none appear to have permanent inhabitants, nor to 
 have been well described, except those which have been 
 already mentioned, and probably very few can deserve a 
 particular description. They are doubtless in general rocky, 
 bleak, and barren. 
 
 * Chappell ; Haye's Brief Relation of the Newfoundland ; WhitbourneV 
 Discourse, &c, of Newfoundland. 
 
BELLEISLE, 
 
 SOS 
 
 
 AN island, which gives name to a strait separating La- CHA J*f f ER 
 brador from Newfoundland, situated northeastward of the 
 northwestern peninsula of the latter country, seems hardly so 
 large as Miquelon, and is high, rugged, and barren, unin 
 habited and apparently not habitable. Beneath the preci 
 pitous rocks which line its coast, and against which the bil 
 lows foam with tremendous fury, monstrous icebergs are 
 often grounded, and form a strong contrast with black cliffe 
 behind.