At New Orleans, where I remained several days, I took passage in the brig Arethusa, Captain H. Leslie, for New York.
While at anchor at the Balize, we were one night under apprehensions from pirates, but the night passed away without any attack. The mud and alluvial drift of the Mississippi extend many leagues into the gulf. It was evident that the whole delta had been formed by the deposits made in the course of ages. Buried trees, and other forms of organic life, which have been disinterred from the banks of the river, as high, not only as New Orleans and Natchez, but to the mouth of the Ohio, show this. It must be evident to every one who takes the trouble to examine the phenomena, that an arm of the gulf anciently extended to this point; and that the Ohio, the Arkansas, Red River, and other tributaries of the present day, as well as the main Mississippi, had at that epoch entered this ancient arm of the gulf. I landed at the light-house at the Balize. We had to walk on planks supported by stakes in the water. A sea of waving grass rose above the liquid plain, and extended as far as the eye could reach. About twelve or fourteen inches depth of water spread over the land. A light-house of brick or stone, formerly built on this mud plain, east of the main pass, had partially sunk, and hung in a diagonal line to the horizon, reminding the spectator of the insecurity of all solid structures on such a nascent basis. The present light-house was of wood. It was evident, however, that here were deposited millions of acres of the richest alluvion on the globe, and in future times another Holland may be expected to be rescued from the dominions of the ocean. As we passed out into the gulf, another evidence of the danger of the channel met our view, in the wreck of a stranded vessel. The vast stain of mud and alluvial filth extended for leagues into the gulf. As the vessel began to take the rise and swell of the sea, I traversed the deck diligently, and, by dint of perseverance in keeping the deck, escaped sea-sickness. I had never been at sea before. When the land had vanished at all points, and there was nothing in sight but deep blue water around us and a sky above, the scene was truly sublime; there was a mental reaction, impressing a lesson of the insignificance of man, which I had never before felt.