The Emigrant Part 5

Mr. Flint has now in the press a life of Boone, which will soon be published. I am indebted to him for the following graphic note, concerning Boone:

"This extraordinary man, whose birth is said to have been in Maryland, in Virginia, and in North Carolina, was in fact born in neither; but in Pennsylvania, in Buck's County, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. When he was three years old, his father removed to a water of the Schuylkill, not far from Reading. When he was thirteen years old, his father removed thence to the South Yadkin, North Carolina; and in the midst of the bushy hills of that State the character of this Nimrod was developed.

"No historical facts are better attested, than those, to which allusion is here made. The native sagacity, the robust hardihood, the invincible courage and spirit of endurance, put forth on all occasions by the pioneer of Kentucky, were, perhaps, never surpa.s.sed by any character on record. These traits were admirably balanced and relieved by a disposition peculiarly mild and gentle. In his old age he removed from Kentucky to the banks of the Missouri. The portrait of him in the capitol is said not to be a correct likeness. He was of the middle stature, of prodigious strength and swiftness, with sandy hair, and a bright complexion, a bold, prominent forehead, aquiline nose and compressed lips. There was a peculiar brightness, an unquenchable elasticity and force visible in his forehead and his eye, even under the frost of eighty winters. His old age was not cheered by affluence, but his departure was neither unhonored, nor unsung. No American character seems to have more chained interest and attention. His life const.i.tutes the theme of Mr. Bryant's 'Mountain Muse,' and he is one among the few, whom lord Byron honored with unalloyed eulogy, in seven or eight of the happiest stanzas of Don Juan."

NOTE IV.

_And should they bear him prisoner from the fight, While they are sleeping, in the dead midnight, He slips the thongs that bind him to the tree, And leaving death with them, bounds home right happily._

The reader is referred to "Sketches of Western Adventure," page 309, for a most interesting account of the escape of two small boys from the Indians.

NOTE V.

_"How fertile is this 'dark and b.l.o.o.d.y ground!'

Here Death has given many a horrid wound."_

Kentucky was called the "dark and b.l.o.o.d.y ground" by the Indians, in consequence of many of the fiercest contests having occurred there; it was the common hunting ground of many of the tribes, and here they frequently met in their excursions, scarcely ever without bloodshed.

At my request, I was kindly furnished with the annexed note by Judge Hall, on the subject of Indian mounds, which should have been inserted under the pa.s.sage which alludes to them; but the reference at the proper place being accidentally omitted, it is given here. Judge Hall will readily imagine why the author has omitted some pa.s.sages of the note, which to himself were not the least pleasing.

This gentleman has lately become a citizen of Cincinnati, where those, who knew him formerly but by his high reputation, now feel how much courtesy and kindness increase its charm.

Judge Hall is of opinion that most of the mounds are natural; speaking of them he says:

"There are few objects so well calculated to strike the poetic imagination as these mounds, standing alone in the wilderness. The belief that they are the workmanship of human hands, awakens curiosity and leads to a long train of reflections. For if men have thrown up these singular elevations, we feel inquisitive to know by whom, and for what purpose, they were erected. They are large and numerous; and they bear every mark of great antiquity. Indeed, I am of opinion, that they are as old as the hills.

"Supposing them to be artificial, we are led into a vast field of conjecture. Were they made by the present race of savages, who are ignorant of all the mechanic arts, and disinclined to labor? If so, what inducement could have been placed before them, sufficiently powerful, to break down the barriers of nature, and bring men habitually indolent, to so herculean a task? The Indian, as we see him now, never works. He is the sovereign of the woods, and strides over his heritage with the step of a master, and the wild glance of one who disdains employment. He submits to no restraint but that of military discipline.

"Viewing them as artificial, nothing can be more curious; and whether we suppose them to have been graves, or temples, or fortifications, they are equally calculated to awaken feelings of wonder, if not of awe. We see them in the wilderness, where, for ages, savage men alone have dwelt, and we behold them covered with majestic oaks, which have flourished for centuries. They have existed here in the silence and repose of the forest, unchanged amid the revolutions which have been carried on around them. They are among the few records of the past. A people ignorant of writing, painting, or sculpture, dest.i.tute of the mechanic arts, and without any knowledge of the use of metals, have left few memorials; unless we see them in the mounds, we might, perhaps, say none.

"If we suppose them to be natural, which, in my opinion, is the most rational belief, as to the majority of the mounds, they are still attractive, as natural curiosities, and as displaying a wonderful exhibition of the creative power. Beheld in any light, they are interesting. Whatever may have been their origin, they adorn the monotony of western scenery, and afford employment to the fancy of the traveller. The plodding foot may tread carelessly over them, the uninquiring eye may pa.s.s them, unheeded; but the poet and philosopher linger around the hallowed spot where they stand, to catch inspiration, or to gather wisdom from these silent memorials."

Judge Hall further says, "satisfied I am that if ever any rational hypothesis, in relation to these interesting remains of past ages, shall be invented, we shall owe it to the inspiration of the poet, and not to the researches of the philosopher."

It is very certain that no one can confront the traveller who may be speculating upon these mounds, as Edie Ochiltree did the Antiquary, with "I mind the bigging o' it."

NOTE VI.

_"Isle of the beautiful! how much thou art, Now, in thy desolation, like the fate Of those who came in innocence of heart With thy green Eden to a.s.similate: Then Art her coronal to Nature gave To deck thy brow, Queen of the onward wave!

And woman came, the beautiful and good, And made her happy home 'mid thy embracing flood."_

The allusion, here, is to Blennerha.s.set's Island, which is beautifully situated in the Ohio. The romantic story of its former inhabitants makes it a spot of great interest to the Emigrant, who, in descending the river, never fails to request that it may be pointed out to him; and it is often the topic of conversation and conjecture to him and his companions for hours after they have pa.s.sed it. The author is indebted to Morgan Neville, Esq., for the following account of the Island and its unfortunate owner. Mr. Neville's admirable tale of Mike Fink, and his other sketches, have created in the public an appet.i.te for more, which they have long hoped he would be induced to gratify, with longer and more frequent productions; or, at least, that he would collect what he has written into a volume.

"BLENNERHa.s.sET'S ISLAND.--How many recollections of mingled pleasure and pain, does the name of this once beautiful spot, call to mind! In descending the Ohio, I never come in sight of the Island, without sensations almost too powerful to bear; and I linger on the deck of the boat, until the point below s.n.a.t.c.hes it from view. The first impressions were made on me in early youth, and time cannot efface them; on the contrary, the long vista through which I look back to this western 'Eden,' presents it, probably, with exaggerated colorings of beauty and loveliness. The traveller, as he wanders over the grounds, once consecrated by philanthropy, cannot reconcile it with probability, that a proud mansion, a quarter of a century since, was here erected, dedicated to hospitality, where a priestess, in the person of an elegant and refined lady, shed an influence around that attracted to its portal the stranger from every country. In looking at a scene, now desolate and repulsive, he can scarcely credit the fact, that, within that period, the same place was embellished by gardens, groves, and arbors, upon which taste was exhausted, and which cost a fortune to realize. The villa of Blennerha.s.set was really a beacon-light in the wilderness, that seemed created to invite the approach of the stranger to enjoy that repose which the sluggish and comfortless mode of travelling of that day, rendered so gratifying.

The only sounds now heard, are the sighing of the wind through the lofty cotton wood, or the puffing of steam, as some boat rushes rapidly past the prosperous settlement of Bellepre. There was a time when music of a less melancholy character breathed upon the ear; when a master hand swept the chords, and science and taste directed the scene.

Herman Blennerha.s.set and his accomplished wife have sat for many a picture; but, after all, Fancy, alone, guided the pencil, and the originals have never been truly sketched. The reality of their history possesses sufficient interest, without the aid of fiction, to enlist the sympathies of the most romantic. Born to fortune, and n.o.bly connected, Blennerha.s.set stood in the front rank of Irish society.

Educated for the bar, he distinguished himself on many occasions, and he was the a.s.sistant counsel, with Curran, in the celebrated trial of Hamilton Rowan. But his disposition was restless, his mind visionary, and, doubtless, he felt sincerely for the degraded state of his country. Notwithstanding his close relationship to the aristocracy of Ireland, and the glaring unfitness of his character for scenes of daring and of danger, he connected himself with the leading yeomen of that day, and became the intimate a.s.sociate and co-adjutor of Arthur O'Conner. He continued to labor in the cause of Liberty, until the eyes of Government were turned upon him; the result is a matter of public history: O'Conner was arrested, and Blennerha.s.set escaped. He had the good fortune, however, to secure a considerable portion of his property, and, accompanied by his accomplished wife, an English lady, he arrived in New York in 1796 or '97, with what, in this country, was esteemed a large fortune.

He was, however, a visionary; he knew nothing of human nature, nothing of the practical business of life. With considerable literary acquirements, and much pretensions to science, he gave himself up to all the reveries and schemes of modern philosophy; with Southey, G.o.dwin, and the whole cla.s.s, he was continually dreaming about the perfectibility of human nature, and believed that innocence was alone to be found in that portion of humanity, which approached the nearest to the state of nature. With these notions, which he succeeded, in some measure, in imparting to his young and interesting partner, he declined establishing himself in any of our Atlantic cities, then the only places in the Union offering attractions to a foreigner of taste and fortune, and turned his attention, to the magnificent solitudes of the West. He purchased a portion of the Island in Virginia, near the mouth of the Little Kenhawa, which has been consecrated by his misfortunes, and executed those embellishments which have since become the theme of many a fanciful speech and tale.

Considering himself a second Capac, he set about acquiring an influence over the rude inhabitants of the Virginia sh.o.r.es, which might enable him to test the efficiency of his favorite system. But his exertions were abortive, and he became convinced of the folly of his early speculations on human nature; his unsophisticated scholars, affecting to admire him, overreached him on all occasions, and then laughed at him. He embarked in commercial speculations; this proved a failure, and he stopped in time to save a portion of the large fortune which, a few years before, he brought from Europe. He recanted, in bitterness of feeling, his early political principles, and began to sigh for the charms of refined society. Discontent stole into his domestic circle, and the idea of educating his two interesting boys in the desert became insupportable.

_Oh! quantum est in rebus in ave!_

During this state of feeling, Colonel Burr presented himself, armed with all the fascinations of manners and address, which so eminently distinguished him. He soon became the ruler of the destiny of the Island pair, and unfolded to them, with resistless eloquence, his magnificent project of the conquest of Mexico, gilding his own ambition under the plausible motive of relieving enslaved millions from the thraldom of Spanish tyranny. The idea of becoming prominent members of a court that would rival the ancient splendor of Montezuma, and the modern glory of Napoleon, absorbed every other feeling. The remains of this once large fortune were embarked in the scheme, and ruin and misery were the consequence. What he felt and saw as but a misdemeanor, was distorted, by political rancor, into treason; and, although one of the most enlightened juries that were ever empanelled, p.r.o.nounced an acquittal, Blennerha.s.set was left dest.i.tute of means, and blasted in reputation. He attempted to retrieve his affairs as a cotton planter, but was unsuccessful; he afterwards removed to Montreal, to resume his profession. Within a few years he has returned to England, the outlawry against him having been removed; and those who feel an interest in the history of this persecuted family, may be gratified to know that their decline of life will not be devoid of comfort. They reside near Bath, in England, with a sister of Blennerha.s.set, the relict of the late admiral De Courcy. The evening of life promises to close free from those clouds that so long lowered over them.

NOTE VII.

_"Alas! another came," &c._

See Mr. Wirt's character of Colonel Burr, in his great speech against him. It was scarcely necessary to refer to this speech, as it is in the mouth of every school boy.

NOTE VIII.

_"Say, has our Capital no Tarpeian height From which to hurl the traitor?"_

These lines were written in the excitement which prevailed during the session of the last Congress, when the Nullifiers were fulminating their doctrines of disunion and prophesying the downfall of the Republic, when he, who has not yet lost all his original brightness, was acting a part which Milton has described.

This may account for what now may be deemed harshness.

NOTE IX.

_"I recollect it well, and loved the time, When we were wont to meet: when last we met I parted from you for this western clime, With the deep feeling never to forget.

In the quick bustle of the busy throng, I feel that I shall miss ye, O! how long!

The generous hearts who mann'd my spirit on-- Who sooth'd me when I lost and cheer'd me when I won."_

I have both rhyme and reason for remembering my young friends of Baltimore. More frank, fearless, and generous spirits, it has not been my lot to meet: social companions, firm friends, and with highly cultivated minds, they possess an _esprit du corps_ which gives such qualities their strongest attractions. They have made Baltimore to me the "city of the soul."

NOTE X.

_"Making of human rights the merest mock."_ The fiend's arch mock.

SHAKSPEARE.

ERRATA.

In Stanza 69, 7th line, read _To_ for _No_.