ndred
tons, and in one minute after were whirled into the mid current of the
Mississippi: the vast crescent of the water-front of the city showing
through a curtain of thick masts, the hulls belonging to which floated
level with the roofs of the highest houses: for the river, at this
period, ran in its course far raised above the city.
The wind blows hard, but a clearer or more bracing day heart could not
desire; and, contrasted with the horrid yesterday, it is indeed most
welcome.
We found some difficulty, owing to the violence of the breeze, in
getting into that extraordinary bend called the "English turn;" but
afterwards we rushed past the fine sugar plantations lying along our
course with great velocity: we had a powerful steam-boat, and wind and
current with us.
About sunset passed Fort Jackson, occupying a well-selected bend of the
river, and commanding a long reach either way. This is one of the works
projected and finished by French engineers, and is said to be of a
first-rate description.
Shortly after passing this fort, a sight of unparalleled grandeur broke
upon us. The western horizon was yet ruddy with the last light of
sunset, and was attracting my attention, contrasted as it was with the
dull stream and dismal jungle around us. Suddenly I observed a bright
flame rush, as it were, over the distant surface of the swamp: at the
same moment we opened a noble reach of the river, and a vast fire was
perceived, steadily advancing over the prairie land on our left, which
character of surface is continued from here to the Balize, covered by a
rank growth of lofty cane or reeds.
As night drew on, the fire seemed to gather greater strength, rolling
away to leeward a mighty ocean of flame; whilst nearer to us lines might
be observed creeping close to the earth, devouring the dry grass, and
marching right in the teeth of the wind, sheltered by the tall cane next
doomed to fall.
Whilst viewed far off, the effect was exactly that of a great city
delivered to the flames: the trees growing by the river's brink, and
scattered here and there over the prairie, showed like some yet standing
spires, whilst here and there a tall cedar might be caught just falling;
the dwarf trees and withered shrubs in front, with the flames quivering
through their branches, might readily be imagined a remnant of the
population fleeing from the destruction pressing on their rear, with the
sullen Mississippi for their only refuge.
|