ere a number of passengers, who, together with this
commander, added to our social circle, and made it more agreeable: among
these, the chief person was Dr. Selman, of Cincinnati, who had been a
surgeon in Wayne's army, and who had a fund of information of this era.
My acquaintance with subjects of chemistry and mineralogy enabled me to
make my conversation agreeable, which was afterwards of some
advantage to me.
We came to at Grave Creek Fleets, and all went up to see the Great
Mound, the apex of which had a depression, with a large tree growing in
it having the names and dates of visit of several persons carved on its
trunk. One of the dates was, I think, as early as 1730. We also stopped
at Gallipolis--the site of a French colony of some notoriety. The river
was constantly enlarging; the spring was rapidly advancing, and making
its borders more beautiful; and the scenery could scarcely have been
more interesting. There was often, it is true, a state of newness and
rudeness in the towns, and villages, and farms, but it was ever
accompanied with the most pleasing anticipations of improvement and
progress. We had seldom to look at old things, save the Indian
antiquities. The most striking works of this kind were at Marietta, at
the junction of the Muskingum. This was, I believe, the earliest point
of settlement of the State of Ohio. But to us, it had a far more
interesting point of attraction in the very striking antique works
named, for which it is known. We visited the elevated square and the
mound. We gazed and wondered as others have done, and without fancying
that we were wiser than our predecessors had been.
At Marietta, a third ark from the waters of the Muskingum was added to
our number, and making quite a flotilla. This turned out to be the
property of Hon. J.B. Thomas, of Illinois, a Senator in Congress, a
gentleman of great urbanity of manners and intelligence. By this
addition of deck, our promenade was now ample. And it would be difficult
to imagine a journey embracing a greater number of pleasing incidents
and prospects.
When a little below Parkersburgh, we passed Blennerhasset's Island,
which recalled for a moment the name of Aaron Burr, and the eloquent
language of Mr. Wirt on the treasonable schemes of that bold, talented,
but unchastened politician. All was now ruin and devastation on the site
of forsaken gardens, into the shaded recesses of which a basilisk had
once entered. Some stacks of chimn
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