LIFE OF WILSON. CXXXV 



they had been so indulged. Next morning (Sunday) I rode 

 six miles to a man's, of the name of Grinder, where our poor 

 friend Lewis perished. * In the same room where he expired, 

 I took down from Mrs. Grinder the particulars of that melan- 

 choly event, which affected me extremely. This house or ca- 

 bin is seventy-two miles from Nashville, and is the last white 

 man's as you enter the Indian country. Governor Lewis, she 

 said, came hither about sunset, alone, and inquired if he could 

 stay for the night; and, alighting, brought his saddle into the 

 house. He was dressed in a loose gown, white, striped with 

 blue. On being asked if he came alone, he replied that there 

 were two servants behind, who would soon be up. He called 

 for some spirits, and drank a very little. When the servants 

 arrived, one of whom was a negro, he inquired for his powder, 

 saying he was sure he had some powder in a canister. The 

 servant gave no distinct reply, and Lewis, in the mean while, 

 walked backwards and forwards before the door, talking to him- 

 self. Sometimes, she said, he would seem as if he were walk- 

 ing up to her; and would suddenly wheel round, and walk 

 back as fast as ho could. Supper being ready he sat down, 

 but had eaten only a few mouthfuls when he started up, speak- 

 ing to himself in a violent manner. At these times, she says, 

 she observed his face to flush as if it had come on him in a fit. 

 He lighted his pipe, and drawing a chair to the door sat down, 

 saying to Mrs. Grinder, in a kind tone of voice, " Madam, 

 this is a very pleasant evening." He smoked for some time, 

 but quitted his seat and traversed the yard as before. He 

 again sat down to his pipe, seemed again composed, and cast- 

 ing his eyes wistfully towards the west, observed what a sweet 

 evening it was. Mrs. Grinder was preparing a bed for him; 



* It is hardly necessary to state, that this was the brave and enterprising 

 traveller, whose journey across the Rocky Mountains, to the Pacific Ocean, 

 has obtained for him well-merited celebrity. The true cause of his commit- 

 ting the rash deed, so feelingly detailed above, is not yet known to the pub- 

 lic; but his friends will not soon forget the base imputations and cruel neglect, 

 which the honourable mind of the gallant soldier knew not how to brook. 



