99 
On the next morning we crossed early to the left bank of the 
Missouri, where St. Charles was situated, in a small canoe. The 
river is here three-quarters of a mile broad, has excessively thick 
and muddy water, and a very powerful current. The right bank 
is rather level, yet so high that it experiences no inundation, 
while the left is pretty hilly. St. Charles, which has the same 
origin with St. Louis, lies at the foot of a hill; it consists of a 
single street running parallel with the river, and is mostly built 
of brick. These houses are for the greater part built by the Ame¬ 
ricans who have come here in later times, and are inhabited by 
them as the most respectable portion of the inhabitants. The Ca¬ 
nadian, (or as they are called here, from their original parentage 
and their language, the French,) are less industrious than the 
Americans, and occupy themselves of preference in hunting; they 
live in smaller, older houses, at the commencement and termina¬ 
tion of the street. The place may contain one thousand inhabi¬ 
tants, who nearly all belong to the Catholic faith, and have a 
small wooden church. I spoke to the present pastor, Yerhegghen, 
a native of Ghent, a young man, who, with the Abbe Maenhout 
in Pensacola, and many other young students from Flanders, ac¬ 
companied Bishop Dubourg on his return from Europe. Abbe 
Verhegghen told me, that eight Flanders clergymen were ap¬ 
pointed either as pastors through the state, or placed in the semi¬ 
nary five miles from St. Genevieve. 
St. Charles has no remarkable exterior, and the streets are not 
paved. We had it in contemplation to go to an eminence lying 
below the town, u les Mamelles,” where it was said there was a 
view of the Missouri and Mississippi both at once. The road 
carried us through a wood, which begins below St. Charles. We 
had no guide, lost our way, and came at last to a couple of lonely 
cabins. These cabins were inhabited by Canadians, who took me 
for a Catholic pastor. We learned to our dismay, that far from 
the “Mamelles,” we had six miles between us and St. Charles. 
In this manner we took a sentimental walk of twelve miles for 
nothing. Luckily for us we had fine weather. We had con¬ 
stantly remained in the vicinity of the river, the return way took 
us somewhat differently, and we came to a great marshy meadow, 
from which we could distinguish the heights on the left bank of 
the Mississippi. The forest is rather thick, with the same trees 
before-mentioned, and with large and very thick sycamores. Not 
a sign of herbage was to be seen. In the forest, however, there 
were beautiful birds, a pair were of a dazzling sky-blue, and several 
paroquets, similar to those I had seen on the river Alabama. For 
snakes, and especially for rattlesnakes, which are found in great 
numbers here in summer, it was now too cold. 
Exceeding fatigued with our useless promenade, we crossed 
