meet us.

Captain Cotton, formerly editor of the _Mexican Gazette_, now civil and
military commandant at Galveston, customs-director, harbour-master, and
tavern-keeper, and a Yankee to boot, seemed to trouble himself very little
about his various dignities and titles. He produced some capital French
and Spanish wine, which, it is to be presumed, he got duty free, and
welcomed us to Texas. We were presently joined by some of our
fellow-passengers, who seemed as bewildered as we had been at the
billiard-table appearance of the country. Indeed the place looked so
desolate and uninviting, that there was little inducement to remain on
_terra firma_, and it was with a feeling of relief that we once more found
ourselves on board the schooner.

We took three days to sail up the river Brazos to the town of Brazoria, a
distance of thirty miles. On the first day nothing but meadow land was
visible on either side of us; but, on the second, the monotonous
grass-covered surface was varied by islands of trees, and, about twenty
miles from the mouth of the river, we passed through a forest of
sycamores, and saw several herds of deer and flocks of wild turkeys. At
length we reached Brazoria, which at the time I speak of, namely, in the
year 1832, was an important city--for Texas, that is to say--consisting of
upwards of thirty houses, three of which were of brick, three of planks,
and the remainder of logs. All the inhabitants were Americans, and the
streets arranged in American fashion, in straight lines and at right
angles. The only objection to the place was, that in the wet season it
was all under water; but the Brazorians overlooked this little
inconvenience, in consideration of the inexhaustible fruitfulness of the
soil. It was the beginning of March when we arrived, and yet there was
already an abundance of new potatoes, beans, peas, and artichokes, all of