Now, on Savannah's cliffs, I wayward read, And not a wave disturbs the tranquil main. Like thee, the Muse has from my infant hours, But mine of light, deceitful hues are made, The 11th of April, I returned with Mr. Wilson to the woods of Coosohatchie, which, I found Mr. Drayton and family, about to leave to their original tenants of racoons, squirrels, and opossums. My table was covered with letters that were truly Ciceronian, from my elegant friend. Mr. George had left the sublime College of Charleston, for a seminary less famous, but more profitable, at George-town, at the confluence of the rivers Winyaw and Waccamaw. There, in concert with his uncle, an Episcopal Minister, he enjoyed an elegant society, and indulged in his favourite studies. CHAP. IV. Picture of a Family travelling through the Woods, -Terror Inspired by two Snakes, and the gallantry of an American boy.-Residence at Ashley River.-Removal to Sullivan's Island.— Literary Projects.-Anecdotes of Goldsmith.A Journey on Foot from Charleston to Georgetown.-Elegy over the Grave of a Stranger in the Woods of Owendaw.-Reception at Georgetown.-Death of General Washington.-Journey back to Charleston.-Embark for New York. Incidents of the Voyage. IT was in the month of May, 1799, that Mr. Drayton and his family exchanged the savage woods of Coosohatchie, for the politer residence of their mansion on Ashley River. In our migration we formed quite a procession. Mr. Drayton occupied the coach with his lady and youngest daughter, and I advanced next with my fair pupil in a chair, followed by William Henry on a prancing nag, and half a dozen negro fellows, indifferently mounted, but wearing the laced livery of an opulent master. Thus hemmed in by the coach before, a troop of horsemen behind, and impenetrable woods on both sides, I could not refrain from whispering in the ear of my companion, that her friends had put it out of my power to run away with her that day. About three in the afternoon, our journey being suspended by the heat of the weather, we stopped to eat a cold dinner, in a kind of lodge that had been erected by some hunters on the roadside, and which now hospitably accommodated a family travelling through the woods. Here we took possession of the benches round the table to enjoy our repast: turning the horses loose to seek the shade; and cooling our wine in a spring that murmured near the spot. William Henry, having snatched a morsel, got ready his fowling-piece, to penetrate the woods in search of wild turkies; and while we were rallying him on his passion for hunting, the cry from a negro of a rattlesnake! disturbed our tranquillity. The snake was soon visible to every eye, dragging its slow length along the root of a large tree, and directing its attention to a bird, which chattered and fluttered from above, and seemed irresistibly disposed to fall into his distended jaws. London, a negro-servant, had snatched up a log, and was advancing to strike the monster a blow in the head, when a black snake, hastening furiously to the spot, immediately gave battle to the rattlesnake, and suspended, by his unexpected appearance, the power of the negro's arm. We now thought we had got into a nest of snakes, and the girls were screaming with fright, when, William Henry, taking an unerring aim with his gun, shot the rattlesnake, in the act of repulsing his enemy. The black snake, without a moment's procrastination, returned into the woods, and profiting by his example, we all pursued our journey, except William Henry, who stopped with a negro to take out the rattles of the monster he had killed. My pupil presented me with these rattles, which I carried for three years in my pocket, and finally gave them to the son of a Mr. Andrews, of Warminster, who had emigrated to Baltimore, and had been to me singularly obliging.* We stopped a few days at Stono, where we *Much has been said by Travellers of the fascinating power of snakes in America. Credat Judæus Apella, non Ego! Things are best illustrated by comparison. It is known to almost every man who has not passed his days in the smoke of London, Salisbury, or Bristol, but incited by the desire of knowledge, has made a Tour into the country; I maintain it could not escape the observation of such a Tourist, that birds will flatten their wings, and exhibit the utmost agitation, at the approach of a fox near a tree on which they are perched. Filled with the same dread, a bird in America cannot refrain from fluttering over a snake; and the American snakes, however inferior in cunning to the English foxes, being endowed with more perseverance; fear deprives the bird of motion, and it falls into his jaws. It is by thus tracing effects to their causes that truth is promulgated; and hence I am enabled to detect and expose the fallaciousness of the opinion, that there is any charm, or fascination in the eye of a snake. were kindly received by Mr. Wilson, my late travelling companion into Georgia. I expected that William Henry would receive the applauses of his friends for the presence of mind he had displayed in killing the rattlesnake; but when the youngest sister recited the story to the family; they heard her without emotion, and only smiled at it as a trifling incident. In the venerable mansion at Ashley River,* I again directed the intellectual progress of my interesting pupils, and, enlarged the imagination of William, by putting Pope's version of the Odyssey into his hands, which I found among other books that composed the family library. He had before read the Iliad; but neither Patroclus slain by Hector, nor Hector falling beneath the avenging arm of Achilles, imparted half the rapture which Ulysses inspired with his companions in the cave of Polyphemus. I am of the opinion of Warton, that the great variety of events and scenes exhibited in the Odyssey, cannot fail to excite a more lively interest than the martial uniformity of the Iliad. The garden of Mr. Drayton's mansion led to the banks of Ashley River, which after a rapid course of twenty miles, discharged it [*"Magnolia," now the famous Magnolia Gardens.] It Joseph Warton, Essay on Pope, Vol. I, 1757; Vol. II, |