Flagg's The Far West, 1836-1837, part 1 — Context and Discussion
Edition facts
Before opening Flagg's The Far West, 1836-1837, part 1 — Context and Discussion, the edition data offers a quick orientation: 122,848 words, 8 hr 55 min estimated reading time, and 17 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 27.8 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Illinois -- Description and travel,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.
How this score is calculated
- Description quality20 pts
- Title & short description10 pts
- Source metadata20 pts
- Text length15 pts
- Chapters / structure15 pts
- EPUB file integrity20 pts
Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.
Read the Text
Flagg was a man of broad sympathies, possessing an insight into human nature remarkable for so youthful a writer--for he was but twenty years of age at the time of his travels, and twenty-two when the book was published. Although mildly reproving the old French settlers for their lack of enterprise, he fully appreciates their domestic virtues, and gives a faithful picture of these pleasure-loving, contented, unprogressive people. His description of the once thriving villages of Kaskaskia, Prairie du Rocher, and Cahokia, are valuable historically, as showing the decay settling upon the French civilization after a few years of American occupation. Our author's interview with the Mormon convert, his conversations with early French and American settlers, his accounts of political meetings, his anecdotes illustrating Western curiosity, and particularly his carefully-recounted local traditions, throw much light on the beliefs, manners, and customs of the Western people of his time. _The Far West_ is thus not only a graphic and often forceful description of the interesting region through which the author travelled, but a sympathetic synopsis of its local annals, affording much varied information not otherwise obtainable. The present reprint, with annotations that seek to correct its errors, will, we think, prove welcome in our series.
In the _Letters and Sketches_ of Father de Smet, we reprint another Western classic, related to the volumes of Flagg by their common terminus of travel at St. Louis.
No more interesting or picturesque episode has occurred in the history of Christian missions in the New World, than the famous visit made in the autumn of 1831 to General William Clark at St. Louis by the Flathead chiefs seeking religious instruction for their people. Vigorously exploited in the denominational papers of the East, this delegation aroused a sentiment that led to the founding of Protestant missions in Oregon and western Idaho, and incidentally to the solution of the Oregon question. But in point of fact, the Flathead deputation was sent to secure a Catholic missionary; and not merely one but four such embassies embarked for St. Louis before the great desideratum, a "black robe" priest, could be secured for ministration to this far-distant tribe. Employed in the Columbian fur-trade were a number of Christian Iroquois from Canada, who had been carefully trained at St. Regis and Caughnawaga in all the observances of the Roman Catholic church. Upon the Pacific waterways and in the fastnesses of the Rockies, these Iroquois taught their fellow Indians the ordinances of the church and the commands of the white man's Great Spirit. John Wyeth (see our volume xxi) testifies to the honesty and humanity of the Flathead tribe: "they do not lie, steal, nor rob any one, unless when driven too near to starvation." He also testifies that they "appear to keep the Sabbath;" and that their word is "as good as the Bible." These were the neophytes who craved instruction, and to whom was assigned that remarkable Jesuit missionary, Father Jean Pierre de Smet.
Born in Belgium in 1801, young De Smet was educated in a religious school at Malines. When twenty years of age he responded to an appeal to cross the Atlantic and carry the gospel to the red men of the Western continent. Arrived in Philadelphia (1821), the young Belgian was astonished to see a well-built town, travelled roads, cultivated farms, and other appurtenances of civilization; he had expected only a wilderness and savages. Two years were spent in the Jesuit novitiate in Maryland, before the zealous youth saw any traces of frontier life. Then the youthful novice was removed to Florissant, Missouri, not far from St. Louis, where the making of a log-cabin and the breaking of fresh soil furnished a mild foretaste of his future career. Still more years elapsed before the cherished project of missionary labor could be realized. In 1829 St. Louis University was founded, and herein the young priest, who had been ordained in 1827, was employed upon the instructional force. Later years (1833-37) were spent in Europe, while recruiting his health and securing supplies for the infant university. It was not until 1838 that the first missionary enterprise was undertaken by Father de Smet, when a chapel for the Potawatomi was built on the site of the modern Council Bluffs. There, in 1839, the fourth Flathead deputation rested after the long journey from their Rocky Mountain home; and at the earnest solicitation of the young missioner, he was in the spring of 1840, detailed by his superior to ascertain and report upon the prospects of a mission to the mountain Indians.
Edmund Flagg, a recent Bowdoin graduate, wrote the letters collected in The Far West for the Louisville Journal during the summer and autumn of 1836. This volume reprints the first thirty-two chapters of his two-part work, covering travels through Illinois and Missouri. Flagg's narrative voice is self-consciously literary, frequently quoting Byron and invoking the "roving, tameless race of wights" who wander without definite object. Yet his eye for detail is sharp: he notes the depth of creek channels that run dry in summer but become impassable torrents in spring rains, and he records the precise complaints of a Virginia emigrant forced to farm without slave labor. The result is a travelogue that oscillates between Romantic reverie and concrete social observation.
The Political Sabbath and the Solitary Traveler
Flagg opens one excerpt by noting that he traveled on the Fourth of July, a "political Sabbath" that had emptied the countryside of its inhabitants. He describes every farmhouse and log-cabin deserted, their tenants gathered in villages to celebrate. This observation is typical of Flagg's method: he uses a specific date and its social consequences to frame his own solitary journey. The contrast between communal festivity and individual movement recurs throughout the text. Flagg presents himself as a wanderer who feels a "heedless desecration" of the holiday, yet he continues riding through the quiet landscape. The passage reveals how Flagg's persona—part Yankee, part Bohemian—negotiates between participation in American civic life and the detached, observing stance of the traveler.
Creek Channels and Seasonal Transformations
A recurring structural pattern in Flagg's descriptions is the contrast between dry and flooded creek beds. He writes that in summer these streams are "either completely free of water, or contain but a mere rivulet," leaving the traveler amazed at the depth and breadth of the channel. But during spring or autumnal rains, a "deep, turbid torrent rolls wildly onward," carrying tree trunks and bridge ruins. Flagg emphasizes the suddenness of the change: a stream that "would scarcely have wet the traveller's sole" becomes a dangerous obstacle. This pattern of seasonal transformation serves as a metaphor for the volatility of frontier life and the precariousness of travel. Flagg's precise observation of the landscape—the "precipitous banks loaded with enormous trees," the "tangled underbrush and gigantic vegetation"—grounds his Romantic flourishes in material reality.
Yankee Enterprise versus Southern Nostalgia
Flagg's encounter with a Virginia emigrant farmer crystallizes a central tension in the text. The farmer, a "high-minded, haughty" man, bitterly complains about cultivating his own land in the absence of slave labor. Though he has made a "pretty place of it" with the help of a Dutchman, he vows to return to the "Ancient Dominion." Flagg, a New Englander, presents this scene without explicit judgment, but the contrast is clear: the Yankee traveler observes the Southerner's discontent with a system that forces him to work alongside hired labor. The passage also highlights the ethnic division of labor—the "Dutchman" (German) as hired hand—and the persistence of regional identities even in the supposedly leveling West. Flagg's own identity as a "Yankee" wanderer is implicitly set against the rooted, nostalgic Southerner.
Readers should attend to Flagg's habit of juxtaposing literary quotations with mundane details of travel—the price of a meal, the condition of a road, the complaints of a landlord. This tension between the Romantic and the practical is the book's central stylistic feature. The excerpts suggest that Flagg is less interested in a coherent argument about the West than in capturing the texture of a region in flux. Treat each chapter as a discrete letter, and note how Flagg's persona shifts between poet, journalist, and ethnographer.
That grey afternoon, Flagg’s The Far West kept me company, his Romantic eyes finding grandeur in muddy river towns. What lingered wasn’t the scenery, though, but his quiet patience with slow travel—the waiting at ferries, the long roads between thin settlements. It sent me wandering afterward to something similarly unhurried: The Great North Road, the Old Mail Road to Scotland: York to Edinburgh — A Closer Reading. Same sense of distance measured in days, not miles.
Dylan Roberts
3 weeks ago-
Margaret Petersen - 1 month ago
This book provides interesting historical insights, but the writing style can be dry and somewhat repetitive. The map included is helpful, though I wished for more illustrations. Overall, it's a solid primary source for researchers, but casual readers might find it a bit tedious. -
Sarah Graves - 4 weeks ago
Despite its historical significance, the book suffers from poor editing. There are numerous typos and inconsistencies that distract from the narrative. The author's observations, while valuable, are often overshadowed by long, uninteresting descriptions. For a more engaging read, I'd recommend a modern compilation with annotations. Hard to recommend unless you're doing serious academic research. -
Robert Lawson - 3 weeks ago
A fascinating historical document that brings the Far West of the 1830s to life. Flagg's observations are sharp and often witty, offering a rare firsthand account of the landscapes and people he encountered. The detailed descriptions of settlements and trails are invaluable for anyone interested in American expansion. A must-read for history enthusiasts.
How will you remember this book?
Save your reaction, strongest insight, and memorable passage.
Mila Martinez
2 weeks ago