ART. 7. ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS. An Encouragement to the Introduction of the Date-Bearing Palm into the United States. In a Letter to the Hon. Josiah Meigs, Commissioner of the General Land Office, &c. from Samuel L. Mitchill, of New-York, dated September 26, 1818. OF F the whole order of palms, the most precious is the family to which the date belongs. The fruit is perhaps more wholesome and nutritious to man, than that of any other tree. It is rich in mucilage and sugar, and palatable in the highest degree. It is the chief article of food in the extensive regions of Africa and Asia, which are situated between frosty cold, and burning heat. Throughout the vast range from Morocco to India, the date supplies, in a great measure, the absence of bread corn. It strengthens the slave and the labourer to perform their heavy tasks. It is a principal material of support to their masters and lords. In some places, a basket of dates is the unit of value. In all, this fruit is so important, that a good crop fills the land with plenty, and a scanty one threatens the inhabitants with famine. The palm which yields this choice product is considered by the natives as the peculiar gift of God. The fruit is gathered and preserved with singular care. It is prepared for use with such religious caution, that dates are by universal custom, exempted from the adulteration and fraud occasionally practised upon almost every sort of merchandize. While tricks and impositions are attempted in the other things brought to market, there is no cheating in this staple commodity. Both the Moor and the Arab are afraid to be dishonest in the packing of dates. This species enlivens and enriches Asia from Bagdad to Muscat. It gives nourishment to the finest provinces of Persia; and contributes more than their VOL. IV.-No. 1. 7 coffee and opium to the felicity of Arabia. It grows to perfection in the tracts lying between the 33d and the 18th degrees of north latitude. The time is come for transplanting the date-tree into the soil of the United States. Its introduction into Georgia, Mississippi, Louisiana, and possibly into South-Carolina, promises benefits incalculably greater than can be expected from the vine and the olive. The addition of this vegetable to the cottan, rice, and sugarcane already cultivated, by insuring copious and substantial aliment for the negroes, will exceedingly increase the work of plantations; and at the same time augment the comfort of those who perform the drudgery of tillage. Why should it not supersede the expensive and exhausting crop of maize? If I was a proprietor in either of the before mentioned states, or in Alabama, I would examine with a becoming earnestness, the palmy productions now at New-York. The fruit, that is, the date is here in greater quantities and excellence than were ever known. It is savoury and delicious to every mouth that receives it. To the stomach it is more than food; it is one of the best preventives of disease. Instead of cloying, it grows upon the appetite. The kernel, or seed is also with us, in the best condition for planting; and can be procured for experiment in the districts of the south. I already have learned from repeated trials that it quickens in poor and open grounds as readily as the peach or the black walnut. But in New-York, the winter destroys it, like the orange and the pine-apple. The palm-trees themselves are in the city. Of the collection made lately in the Persian gulf, several pairs are alive, and likely to do well after the voyage to New-York. It will be remembered, that this vegetable, like the fig tree and the Pitachia-tree, the spinach, hop, and hemp is diacious, as the botanists say; and pro duces the sexes on separate and distinct tree not only recovers from the severe stems. The male-palın, with staminate flowers, is an individual tree by himself; and the female palm with the pistillate flowers, is an individual tree by herself. Their union in a garden, or orchard, is essential to the ripening of the fruit. To remove from the present effort all the causes of failure which a rational foresight could prevent, palms of both sexes were obtained, with a corresponding trouble and expense, of the most exquisite and approved varieties, from the groves of Arabia Felix! Being now in our country, they are waiting for an oppor tunity to be conducted by a protecting hand to the climate that is adapted to their constitution. The United States are indebted to Henry Austin, Esq. for the conception and execution of this patriotic project. He merits from his fellow citizens the honour and reward that are due to public benefactors. I sincerely hope that he may obtain a full proportion of both. And if I might permit a little selfishness to appear, I would own to you, as I was associated with Fulton in his first trip with the steam-boat, it would gratify me to be associated with Austin in the first essay upon the date bearing palm. I understand that this gentleman has acquired circumstantial and practical information on the management of the trees, and that he is ready and willing to communicate it to such persons as are desirous of being instructed. It is expected he will in due season publish something on the subject. Having offered you so many observations on this palm, as an object of rural economy, I cannot forbear to add a few sentences concerning it, of a literary kind. The tree was, by the ancient Greeks, called Phoenix, and is known by the scientific moderns as the Ph. dactylifera. It is alleged to be very long lived; and to form at the root numerous bulbs and suckers. This extension of life, and power to multiply, give to it an uncommon duration, extending almost to perpetuity. It is even rumoured that this assaults of steel, but renews its vigour after the destroying operation of fire. They report that after the trunk with its fronds and panicles has been burned down to the ground, and consumed to aslies, the roots which remain in the earth, send forth new sprouts, and these enlarge to new trees. Hence has arisen the story of a young phoenix growing out of the ashes of its aged parent. But the poets have as usual, very much exaggerated and distorted the natural occurrence. They have transformed the tree to a bird, of which there was but a single one in the world at a time; an inhabitant of Arabia; and dying at the end of six hundred and sixty years, on a funeral pile, constructed by itself from odoriferous wood, that was kindled into a flame by the rays of the sun. Among the ashes was a worm, which gave origin to another phoenix. I return, however, from this classical digression, to tell you that a pair of beautiful gazelles, or oriental antelopes, the elegant quadruped celebrated in their romances, and a parcel of the seed of the tectonia, teek, or Asiatic oak, by far the most durable of all timber, have been imported in the same ship. These we must endeavour to improve, inasmuch as the former will be an ornament to the park, and the latter the basis of a navy. I beg you to accept the assurance, once more, of my high and particular respect. SAMUEL L. MITCHILL. A Journey to the Camel's Rump and the Mansfield, the two most elevated Peaks of the Green Mountains, in the State of Vermont; with Physical and Barometrical Observations. In a Letter from Capt. Alden Partridge, late Professor of Engineering in the Military Academy, &c. to Dr. Milchill, SurgeonGeneral of New-York, &c. dated Norwich (Vermont), September 23, 1818. DEAR SIR, Having now a little leisure, I take the liberty to give you a summary account of my recent operations in this section of the the ascent. This at first was not bad, but country. I left New-York in the steam- soon became much more steep and diffiboat Connecticut, for New-Haven, on cult, and was rendered very unpleasant, Monday the 7th inst. at 7 o'clock in the in consequence of the rain which now remorning, travelled one hundred and sixty commenced with considerable fury. The miles before I slept, and arrived at this lower region of the mountain is covered place (distance 300 miles,) on the follow with a heavy growth of hard timber, ing Thursday. On the following Mon- consisting principally of beech, birch, day, September 14, at 8 o'clock in the and the sugar maple, intermixed with a morning, I started on foot, equipped with few evergreens. As we ascended, howmy barometer, thermometers, pocket- ever, the hard timber continued to decompass, and spirit-level, for the purpose crease, until it became extinct; and the of ascertaining the altitudes of the Ca- evergreens, consisting of hemlock, spruce, mel's Rump, and Mansfield Mountain, and firs, became entirely predominant. considered the two most elevated peaks These, as we approached the summit, in the Green Mountain range, and after continually decreased in size, until they a march of sixty-four miles, arrived the degenerated into mere shrubs not more next day at the village of Waterbury, on than three feet high, with their limbs so Onion-River, completely drenched with closely interwoven as to form an almost impenetrable hedge. The middle and upper regions of the mountain are very rocky and precipitous, the rocks being generally covered with a thick coat of moss. After about two hours and a half rain. September 16th. Weather cloudy and threatening, I determined however to lose no time in attempting to reach the summit of the Camel's Rump, distant by estimation, eleven miles. I accordingly started for that purpose about 7 o'clock, A. M. alone, Doctor Paddock, whom I expected to accompany me, being necessarily absent. I followed down the river on the north side, about four miles, where I attempted to ford it, the mountain being on the south side; but this I found impracticable, in consequence of its having been swollen by the rain. I was here joined by a young man who volunteered to accompany me upon the mountain, but who was as little acquainted with the route as myself. We pursued our course down the river about one mile further, where we found a canoe, in which we crossed, and retained on the opposite side until we reached the mouth of Duxbury Brook. We here left the river, and followed up this brook about four miles, which brought us to the foot of the mountain, the summit bearing about northwest, and distant about four miles. So far we had a road, though after leaving the river it was little better than none, being only a foot path, and very muddy.. We now struck into the woods, myself acting as pilot, and began I was now amply of hard climbing, where our hands and feet were equally necessary, we obtained for the first time after entering the woods, a view of the summit, about half a mile distant, and apparently almost perpendicular. The practicability of reaching it on this side was very doubtful. I determined, however, to make the attempt, and accordingly, after surmounting a number of formidable precipices, at the evident hazard of my barometer, if not of our necks, we at length succeeded in gaining the summit. compensated for all my fatigue in ascending, by the prospect which opened to view. It was, indeed, grand and picturesque. On the west, and northwest the whole country, as far as Lake Champlain, appears drawn around the skirts of the mountain, and you look down upon it as upon a map. Lake Champlain itself, distant about twenty miles, with its several islands, bays and creeks, lies in full prospect before you, and the view is finally limited by the high grounds in the state of New-York. The prospect in other directions, though less beautiful, was still more grand and sublime. It September 17th. The rain continued to descend in torrents, which, together with the muddiness of the roads, obliged me to remain under cover until nearly ́ 4 o'clock, P. M. when the storm subsiding in some measure, I took up my line of march for Mansfield Mountain, distant from Canterbury about twenty-two miles, in a northwesterly direction. I arrived at the village of Stowe, about sunset, distance ten miles, where I took up quarters for the night, and where I was joined by Dr. Paddock, when he had agreed to accompany me upon this expedition. truly exhibited the works of the Creator four extra miles on account of escaping on a magnificent scale. To the south, the river and southeast, the immense range of the Green Mountains, with its elevated peaks, stretches further than the eye can reach, while on the north, the towering summit of Mansfield Mountain, rising with majestic grandeur, limits the view. The weather being overcast, although it rendered the prospect less extensive, and in some respects less perfect than it otherwise would have been, yet, I am convinced, diminished nothing, but, on the contrary, rather added to the grandeur of the scene. The fog and mists, which in some places enveloped the lower regions of the mountains, while the summits shot up to a great height above them, produced an effect peculiarly striking. The whole appeared to me as strongly illustrative of the original state of chaos. The summit of the mountain is a bare rock, destitute even of a sign of vegetation. It is very steep on the southeast, south, and southwest sides, less so on the east and west, and least of all on the north side. The highest pinnacle converges almost to a point, the top being but a few yards in diameter. The rock on the summit appears evidently in some places to have been operated upon by fire. This induces me to believe the tradition, that the Indians, formerly, in passing to and from Canada, used it as a signal station, and accordingly built fires on it, which it is said, could be distinguished at St. John's, and even at Montreal. The wind blew strongly from the southwest, and felt extremely cold; the thermometer sunk to 43, and the rain continued, mingled with hail verging upon snow. After remaining upon the summit until we were completely chilled with the cold, and having finished my observations, we hastened down the mountain, and I reached the village of Waterbury, whence I started, about 7 o'clock in the evening, with, I believe, not a dry thread in my clothes, and somewhat fatigued, having ate nothing, nor drank any thing but water during the day. The distance walked was between twenty-six and thirty miles, including the September 18th. Weather foggy, but appearances indicated a good day. We started about 7 o'clock in the morning, and after travelling about six miles, we arrived at the foot of the mountain. So far we had a path; the latter part, however, very bad. We now began to ascend and in about two hours and an half we reached the summit of the south peak, commonly called the Nose. The ascent, was, in general, very gradual and easy; the timber and other productions much the same as already described in the account of the Camel's Rump. The highest summit of this peak is a bald pointed rock, terminating on the north side in an almost perpendicular precipice, about three hundred feet high. Having completed my observations at this station, we next directed our course for the north rock, commonly called the Chin, distant two miles north. To reach this, it was necessary to proceed along the top of the ridge which connects the two peaks (the Nose and Chin) in doing which, our course was much impeded by the small firs, which growing to a height of only three or four feet, and their boughs being closely interwoven, formed an almost impenetrable barrier. After a very fatiguing march, however, of about two hours, we at length reached the summit of the Chin. This is a bald rock entirely destitute of vegetation, terminating on the east side in an almost perpendicular precipice of great height; while on the other sides the descent is much more gradual. The prospect, like that from the top of the Camel's Rump, is extensive and grand, embracing, however, nearly the same views as have been already mentioned. After completing my observations, and enjoying the prospect as long as our time would permit, we took up our line of march to return, first directing our course down the north side, until we cleared the precipice just mentioned, and winding round on the side of the mountain to the south, we descended on the east side. about 8 o'clock, and notwithstanding the rain fell in torrents the greater part of the day, I continued my course, and reached this place about 5 o'clock, P. M. Thus the expedition lasted seven days, five of which it rained, during the whole of which my clothes were not once dry, and the distance travelled was about two hundred miles. The mercury in the barometer fluctuated very little during the whole time. I therefore conceived it a favourable though a very unpleasant time to make observations. my observations: feet. Altitude of the North Peak of Mans- ter, Altitude of the South Peak of the 4093 4279 same, called the Nose, above Onion River, at Waterbury Bridge, 3797 Altitude of the same above the site of the State House at Montpelier, 3755 Altitude of the same above tidewater, Altitude 3988 The place of descent, however, was much The following are the results derived from more difficult than that of ascent, being very steep, and in many parts precipitous. We, nevertheless, reached the foot in safety, about five o'clock, P. M. when the doctor resuming his horse, I continued my march alone for Waterbury, where I arrived a little after ten o'clock, considerably fatigued, (having travelled this day, thirty-four miles) and, as usual, drenched with the water which fell from the bushes in passing through the woods. September 19th. It rained furiously in the morning until about 10 o'clock, when it subsiding, I started on my return to Norwich, Dr. Paddock very kindly volunteering his services with those of his horse and gig, brought me on as far as Montpelier (twelve miles) where we arrived about noon. I then directed my course through Williamstown, in order to cross the main ridge of the Green Mountain range, for the purpose of ascertaining its height. I made my observations for this object at the seat of Judge Paine, in Williamstown. The altitude of this point, I believe may be taken without essential error, to express the mean altitude of the eastern or main range of the mountains, without reference to the peaks. About two o'clock the rain recommenced, and continued incessantly the remainder of the day. I however, pursued my march without halting, and arrived at Brookfield about sunset, where I took up my quarters for the night. September 20th. Weather showery and threatening in the morning, I started of the Camel's Rump above Onion River, at Waterbu ry Bridge, 4002 Altitude of the same above the site water, Altitude of Judge Paine's seat, on water, 4138 2157 2385 3924 Altitude of Killington Peak, above necticut River, at Windsor Bridge, 3116 |