saw it. Large crowds from the surrounding country assembled to assure themselves that their enemy was really dead, and curious to see the individuals whose daring prowess had relieved the country of a scourge. Among the spectators were two young men, who, unfortunately for the hero-traitors, recognized them as the robbers of their father and themselves. The wretches were seized, tried for their crimes, and hung. And thus ended the last and most noted gang of robbers that infested the "Natchez and Nashville trace."

At the close of the year 1811, the Valley of the Mississippi was agitated by repeated shocks of earthquakes, which continued, with more or less violence, for nearly three months. The country seventy miles below the mouth of the Ohio River seems to have been near the centre of the convulsions, and the locality, for many miles, was seamed with wide chasms, and disfigured with immense subterranean holes, the remains of which are still pointed out. The scenes which occurred during the several days that the shocks continued, are represented as being terrible beyond description, and many weeks elapsed before nature resumed her usual quiet sway. During the commotion, sulphureted gases tainted the air, and, for more than a hundred and fifty miles, perceptibly impregnated the rolling floods. The river banks, the sand-bars, and islands dissolved away, engulfing vast tracts of forest. Out of the seething waters rose huge snags and the remains of gigantic trees, which, after resting for ages in the accumulations of the bed of the river, were again born into daylight to become merciless enemies of navigation.

Every shock of the earthquake was accompanied with what seemed to be the discharges of heavy artillery, while every few moments the surface of the river rose and fell many feet. "Finally," records a witness of these strange phenomena, "after escaping many dangers, my boat suddenly swung around in the conflicting currents, and rapidly shot up the river. Looking ahead, I beheld the mighty Mississippi cut in twain, and pouring down a vast opening into the bowels of the earth. A moment more and the chasm filled; but the strong sides of the flat-boat were crumbled to pieces in the convulsive efforts of the flood to obtain its wonted level."

New Madrid, at that time a flourishing town, was completely ruined, and the bluff on which it was situated sunk down to the level of the river, and was afterward submerged. Most of the inhabitants would have met with the fate of those of Caracas, a city destroyed at the same time with New Madrid, had their houses been of similar material— heavy stone.

Among the incidents remembered is that of a poor Indian, who, completely bewildered by what he saw, stoically gave himself up to what he deemed to be inevitable destruction. Upon being asked what was the matter, he significantly and solemnly pointed to the heavens, and replied, "Great Spirit-whisky too much."

A few years ago, the Mississippi, from an unusual drought, shrunk within its banks to a comparatively small stream, and, as a consequence, ander the protection of a high bank nearly opposite the town of Baton Rouge, there was exposed the wreck of a small boat, the timbers of

which, as far as could be ascertained, were in a good state of preservation. No one particularly noticed the object, because such evidences of destruction form one of the most familiar features of the passing scenery; yet there was really an intense interest connected with those blackened but still enduring ribs, for they were the remains of the first steamer that ever dashed its wheels into the waters of the Great West, and awakened new echoes along the then silent shores of the "Father of Waters." This boat was built at Pittsburg by Messrs. Fulton and Livingston. It was launched in the month of March, 1812, and landed at Natchez the following year, where she "loaded with passengers," and proceeded to New Orleans. After running some time in this newly-established trade, and meeting with a variety of misfortunes, she finally "snagged," and sunk in the half-exposed grave we have designated.

The two succeeding years produced the boats named Comet and Vesuvius, and also the Enterprise. This last-named vessel, after making two very successful trips from Pittsburg to Louisville, took in a cargo of ordnance stores, and, on the 1st of December, 1814, under command of Captain H. M. Shreeve, started from New Orleans, and was the first steamer that made the entire passage from that city to Pittsburg. This was considered a great triumph, for it was doubted whether this new power could displace the strong arms of the keel-boatmen in stemming the powerful tide.

On this "return trip" from New Orleans, the Enterprise, starting for Pittsburg, reached Louisville in twenty-five-days. The excitement occasioned by this event can not now be imagined. Captain Shreeve was greeted by a public demonstration. Triumphal arches were thrown across the streets, and his appearance every where called forth bursts of enthusiasm. At the public demonstration given in his houor patriotic speeches were made, and it was formally announced that the Enterprise had accomplished all that was possible in inland navigation. Nothing tended to dampen the hilarity of the hour but a suggestion of the gallant Captain, "that, under more favorable circumstances, he could make the same trip in twenty days!" This was deemed an impossibility, and his boast was looked upon as the pardonable weakness of a man already intoxicated with unprecedented success.

Thus the dreams of Fulton became realities: as a prophet, he foretold the future glory of the valley of the Mississippi; as more than a seer, his genius provided the means for its realization.

After that time boats continued to increase, their usefulness was acknowledged, and the means for the glorious triumph of Western commerce was complete. As the pioneer of commerce, steam aided in opening all the rivers of the West, and its benefits in this respect can not be appreciated. The ascent of the river in keel-boats occupied one hundred and twenty days, and during the dry season and the time of floods it could not be ascended at all. The same journey, by the means of steam, is now accomplished in ten or fifteen days, and at all seasons of the year. The strong arm of muscle has given way to unfeeling and nevertiring machinery-the rude craft is displaced by floating palaces. Who can correctly estimate the mighty triumphs of steam in the Valley of the Mississippi?

The crowd of passengers ordinarily witnessed on our Mississippi steamers present more than is any where else observable in a small space, the cosmopolitanism of our extraordinary population. Upon their decks are to be seen immigrants from every nationality in Europe; in the cabin are strangely mingled every phase of social life-the aristocratic English lord is intruded upon by the ultra socialist; the conservative bishop accepts a favor from the graceless gambler; the wealthy planter is heartily amused at the simplicities of a "Northern fanatic; " the farmer from about the arctic regions of Lake Superior exchanges ideas, and discovers consanguinity, with a heretofore unknown person from the everglades of Florida; the frank, open-hearted men of the West are charmed with the business-thrift of a party from "down East;" politieians of every stripe, and religionists of all creeds, for the time drop their wranglings in the admiration of lovely women, or find a neutral ground of sympathy in the attractions of a gorgeous sunset.

The passengers being usually together from five to seven days, there is, from necessity, encouraged a desire to be pleased, and many of the happiest reminiscences of well-spent lives are connected with the enjoyments, novelties and intellectual pleasures of such prolonged trips. After the "first day out," genial minds naturally gather into sympathetic circles; conversation is relieved by continued changes of scene; every "landing place" suggests a reminiscence of "early times," and varies, without interruption, the flow of conversation. Groups of persons snugly dispose of themselves under the shady sides of the "guards;" among which are often found ladies and gentlemen but recently from the worn-out fields and ruined cities of Central Europe, and they find something particularly inspiring in the surrounding evidences of vitality, as exhibited in the rich soil and hopeful "settlements." There are also present persons who have for many years been in some way connected with the river, who have learned its traditions, and love to repeat over the thousand reminiscences that are constantly revived by the moving pan

orama.

The negroes of the Mississippi are happy specimens of God's image done up in ebony, and in many lighter colors, and they have frequently a deserved reputation as "deck-hands." It is astonishing what an amount of hard work they will perform, and yet retain their vivacity and spirits. If they have the good fortune to be employed on a "bully boat," they take a lively personal interest in its success, and become as mach a part of the propelling machinery as the engines. Their custom of singing at all important landings, has a pleasing and novel effect; if stimulated by an appreciative audience, they will roll forth a volume of vocal sounds that, for harmony and pathos, sink into obscurity the best performances of "imitative Ethiopians."

With professional flat-boatmen they are always favorites, and at night, when the "old ark" is tied up, their acme of human felicity is a game of "old sledge," enlivened by a fiddle. On such occasions the master of the instrument will tonch off the "Arkansas traveler," and then gradually sliding into a "Virginia hoe-down," he will be accompanied by a gennine darkie keeping time, on the light fantastic heel-and-toe tap. It

is a curious and exciting struggle between cat-gut and human muscle. It affects not only the performers, but the contagion spreads to the spectators, who display their delight by words of rough encouragement, and exclamations of laughter, which echo along the otherwise silent shores.

But the glory of the darkie deck-hand is in "wooding up." On a first-class steamer there may be sixty hands engaged in this physical contest. The passengers extend themselves along the guards as spectators, and present a brilliant array. The performance consists in piling on the boat one hundred cords of wood in the shortest possible space of time. The steam-boilers seem to sympathize at the sight of the fuel, and occasionally breathe forth immense sighs of admiration-the pilot increases the noise by unearthly screams on the alarm whistle. The mate of the boat, for want of something better to do, divides his time between exhortations of "Oh, bring them shavings along!" "Don't go to sleep at this frolic," and by swearing of such monstrous proportions, that even good men are puzzled to decide whether he is really profane or simply ridiculous. The laborers pursue their calling with the precision of clockwork. Upon the shoulders of each are piled innumerable sticks of wood, which are thus carried from the land into the capacious bowels of the steamer. The "last loads" are shouldered-the last effort to carry "the largest pile" is indulged in.

The rafts on the Mississippi are crude masses of cypress timber, which find ready sale at the numerous saw-mills in the vicinity of New Orleans. By an accepted law of the river, everything is obliged to get out of the way of a raft. We don't know of any persons more independent than the first officers of these primitive flotillas. Their chief unhappiness is occasioned by the sneering remarks made by spectators, relative to the speed of the rafts, and allusions to their propensity to leak, and of the necessity of having the bottom pumped dry. The mention of any of these subjects always excites the ire of the raftsmen, and for the ten thousandth time, and for the same cause, they get in a passion and hurl back abuse. They also have their seasons of real trouble; the sand-bars check their onward course, and the swift running "shutes" "suck them" into unknown and impossible-to-get-out-of waters. Their time of triumph, however, arrives when some brisk wind drives them crashing against the sides of a flat-boat, and if they can "put a scare" on a first-class steamer, their joy is complete.

MISSOURI.

Few of our readers, we suppose, are prepared to be told that Missouri is not only one of the largest States in the Union, but that it is unsurpassed, and, perhaps, unequaled by any other in natural resources. Yet such is the fact; taking into view its advantages of climate, soil, rivers, variety of agricultural productions, and mineral wealth, we do not know of any State which is entitled to take precedence of this.

The history of Missouri, as a home of civilized man, begins with the cession by France to England of her possessions east of the Mississippi, at the peace of 1763. The French, then relinquishing their possessions on the east of the river, began to make progress in colonizing its western banks. The first town founded in Missouri was St. Geneviève, which was laid out by a party of French from Kaskaskia, in Illinois, it the course of the year of the cession to Great Britain. Other settlements, west of the Mississippi, were about this time formed. In the year 1764, the city of St. Louis was founded by M. Lacledé, a partner in a company which was extensively engaged in the fur trade, a business at that time already very lucrative. It was selected as the depot for Upper Louisiana, in which term was included all the state of Missouri and the territory west and northwest of the same. In this wide tract of country, a monopoly of the trade with the Indian tribes had been granted by M. d'Abaddie, Director-General of Louisiana, to the company just alluded to. It was wealthy, and clothed with very valuable privileges, so that the settlement at St. Louis almost immediately assumed considerable importance. The selection of a place, moreover, was so judicious, that, independently of any other circumstances, it could not fail to attract early attention, being so evidently destined to become, what we now live to see it, the metropolis of a wide-spread and fertile region. It is one of those points which seemed formed by nature for the sites of large cities, uniting all the advantages that are essential, on the one hand, for the comfort and health of their immediate inhabitants, and, on the other, for the convenient exportation of the produce of the country, and the importation of whatever is needed for the supply of its wants. Nothing can permanently keep back a place possessing such advantages. It is safe to foretell, that in St. Louis will prove to have been laid the foundations of one of the largest cities of the West, perhaps of the largest inland city of the United States.

The fur trade, and the exportation of lead, constituted the chief business of the early settlers of Upper Louisiana, as indeed they made the Occupation of the majority of its inhabitants down to the period of its coming into the possession of the United States. Of the emigrants into this region, in the years immediately succeeding its first occupation by the French, some began to form new settlements, as Vuide Poche, afterward called Carondolet, Florisant, and Les Petites Côtes, now St. Charles; others joined the infant settlement at St. Louis, which, soon coming to be considered the capital of Upper Louisiana, became the residence of the French and afterwards the Spanish governors.

But the hope of living under their own laws and rulers, which had brought the settlers together, was speedily disappointed. The weaknes of France had already compelled her to relinquish her last hold upon America By a treaty, which was made with Spain in 1762, but was not fully carried into execution until 1769, she had ceded to that power all her territories west of the Mississippi, together with the island and city of New Orleans.

"The fate of the Louisianians," says Stoddard, "was made known to them by a letter signed by the French king, dated April 21st, 1764, addressed