Historic Highways of America Volume IX Part 6

Such men, being constantly on the move, were hard to place, and as difficult to bring to justice as a government official. A keel-boat captain surrounded by a swarthy crew which he had treated liberally to plunder would not be attacked by any posse in its right mind. On one occasion--whether or not the story is true, the spirit of it is no misrepresentation--Mike Fink was so earnestly desired that a reward was offered for his capture. When his boat was anch.o.r.ed at Louisville an old friend of Mike's, a constable, approached him and expressed the desire to bring him to trial in order to obtain the promised reward. At the same time he a.s.sured the culprit that there was no evidence that could result in conviction. The keel-boat man took pity on his friend and agreed, after some consideration, to acquiesce on one condition: he would go if he could be drawn thither in his yawl, surrounded by his men.

The condition was agreed to. "Accordingly a long-coupled wagon was procured, and, with oxen attached, it went down the hill, at Third Street for Mike's yawl. The road, for it was not then a street, was very steep and very muddy at this point. Regardless of this, however, the boat was set upon the wagon, and Mike and his men, with their long poles ready, as if for an aquatic excursion, were put aboard, Mike in the stern. By dint of laborious dragging, the wagon had attained half the height of the hill, when out shouted the stentorian voice of Mike calling to his men, 'Set poles!'--and the end of every long pole was set firmly in the thick mud; 'Back her!' roared Mike, and down the hill again went wagon, yawl, men, and oxen. Mike had been revolving the matter in his mind and had concluded that it was best not to go; and well knowing that each of his men was equal to a moderately strong ox, he had at once conceived and executed this retrograde movement. Once at the bottom, another parley was held and Mike was again overpowered. This time they had almost reached the top of the hill, when 'Set poles! Back her!' was again ordered and again executed. A third attempt, however, was successful, and Mike reached the court house in safety; and, as his friend, the constable, had endeavored to induce him to believe, he was acquitted for lack of sufficient evidence. Other indictments, however, were found against him, but Mike preferred not to wait to hear them tried; so, at a given signal he and his men boarded their craft and again stood ready to weigh anchor. The dread of the long poles in the hands of Mike's men prevented the posse from urging any serious remonstrance against his departure. And off they started with poles 'tossed.' As they left the court house yard Mike waved his red bandanna, which he had fixed on one of the poles, and promising to 'call again'

was borne back to his element and launched once more upon the waters."[73]

Our inability to believe such stories is only an additional proof that those days might as well be a cycle as a century behind us, so far as catching the genuine atmosphere of them is concerned. It was a rough day on sh.o.r.e, a day when, so the story goes, a Louis Phillippe could not treat an Ohio innkeeper with hauteur (after announcing that he would "be King of France") without being thrown into the street to the accompaniment of the boast: "We are all Kings over here." English travelers in the middle West have probably left truer pictures of actual social conditions in the days of the keel-boat and barge than we have elsewhere. We think many of these accounts are, like d.i.c.kens's _Notes_, exaggerated. If any of them are true, all might as well be. And, at any rate, whatever the social average, we can be very certain that the rivermen had the hardest work and were the hardest type of all laborers in the new West.

A hint has been dropped some pages before about the feeling of the old-time rivermen concerning the introduction of steam navigation. In this series of monographs it has been in place now and then to refer to the anger and disgust of every cla.s.s of men engaged in land transportation over the introduction of new methods. The old packhorse-men were intensely incensed at the introduction of wheeled vehicles on the great routes of trade and immigration, and even opposed the widening of Indian trails and the building of roads. The first wagons were a.s.saulted and demolished. In turn the "waggoners" and teamsters opposed the building of ca.n.a.ls and the improvement of the rivers. Teamsters, tow-boat men, and rivermen were foremost in opposing the railway. Something of the same spirit exists in certain parts today, in the struggle which is on, and which is growing more bitter each year, between railway and electric roads.

The conflict between the new and the old was probably more fierce on the rivers than elsewhere, for the reason that one route was common to all.

The ca.n.a.l and highway were not often contiguous, and the railway was yet further removed, because it followed the waterways which the roads frequently avoided. On the river the barge and steamboat moved side by side; they landed at the same ports, and never lost sight of each other.

It was a significant repet.i.tion of history, recalling the day when the wheeled vehicle was introduced on roads never used save by the packhorse-men. In each instance improved methods of locomotion came into violent contact with the old. And, as in the case of the struggle between angry packhorse-men and wagon- and coach-drivers, the new method was a labor-saving invention. No string of ponies could bear what a great Conestoga wagon would carry. It took less "hands" to transport a given amount of freight on wagons than by the old packsaddle system. The difference in the case of barge and flat-boat and steamboat was much more marked and the struggle so much more bitter. True it is that in both cases the amount of business soon increased with improved facilities--for the wagon was as much in advance of the packsaddle as the steamer was in advance of the flat-boat--but this did not allay temporary hostility.

River life at once underwent a great change with the gradual supremacy of the steamboat in the carrying trade of the Ohio and its tributaries.

The sounding whistle blew away from our valleys much that was picturesque--those strenuous days when a well developed muscle was the best capital with which to begin business. Of course the flat-boat did not pa.s.s from our waters, but as a type of old-time rivermen their l.u.s.ty crews have disappeared. The business interests of the new West, growing to greater proportions each year, demanded all hands "on deck."

In connection with that first generation of rivermen it was observed that social equality was a general rule. There were no distinctions; every man was his own master and his own servant. In the days of keel-boats and flat-boats conditions changed, as we have observed in the case of Mike Fink who was "captain" of his boat and the leader of his own henchmen. This has been touched upon in the consideration of the evolution of river craft, and may be suggested, only in pa.s.sing, here; the second generation of rivermen were accustomed to obey orders of superiors, and society was divided sharply into two cla.s.ses, the serving and the served. With the supremacy of the steamboat this division is reduplicated over and again; here are found four general cla.s.ses, the proprietors, navigators, operators, and deckhands.

The upper ranks of the steam-packet business have furnished the West with some of its strongest types of aggressive manhood. Keen-eyed, physically strong, acquainted with men and equal to any emergency, the typical captain of the first half century of steamboating in the West was a man any one was glad to number among his friends and acquaintances.

But between the pilot house and the deck lay a gulf--not impa.s.sable, for it was very frequently spanned by the worthy--deep, and significant.

Until the Civil War "deckoneering" was, largely, the pursuit of whites.

A few plantation owners rented out slaves to steamboat owners, but negroes did not usurp the profession until they were freed. This was contemporaneous with the general introduction of steam railways.

A heterogeneous population--not touched in the foregoing generalizations--has made the waters of the Ohio Basin its home. They may be cla.s.sed as vagrants, gamblers, and banditti. The first cla.s.s would include both the indolent and the vicious population that has swarmed the Ohio and its tributaries from times immemorial. In all sorts of conceivable craft, resembling each other only in the sole particular of buoyancy, these vagrants have been floating our waters and mooring their boats along our sh.o.r.es for a hundred years or more. In house-boats of all possible sizes, shapes, heights, depths, and stenches these idlers and triflers have lived and trained their sons and daughters to live. Their staple means of existence has been fishing and filching, and, while living, are seemingly the happiest of people and no questions asked. To dig a few hills of potatoes and s.n.a.t.c.h a few ears of corn or a melon, to conciliate and lead away a watch-dog, to "run" the trot-line, to barter stolen articles in a contiguous county, makes up the happy round of their useless lives. If it is true that every man is as lazy as he dare be the Ohio River can boast the most daring set of men in the world. It is interesting to note that at the beginning of the last century those who were engaged in legitimate business on western waters were not considered as holding a respectable social position. "This voyage performed," we read in _The Navigator_ for 1818, "which generally occupies three month ... the trader returns [from New Orleans] doubly invigorated, and enabled to enlarge his vessel and cargo, he sets out again; this is repeated, until perhaps getting tired of this mode of merchandizing, he sets himself down in some town or village as a wholesale merchant, druggist or apothecary, practicing physician, or lawyer, or something else, that renders him respectable in the eyes of his neighbors, where he lives amidst wealth and comforts the remainder of his days--nor is it by any known that his fortune was founded in the paddling of a canoe, or trafficking in apples, cider-royal, peach-brandy, whiskey, &c. &c. &c."

This refers to the early trader; the house-boater of the later day was not, primarily, engaged in any trade, though many were. Nearly every kind of a shop known on land has floated on the Ohio. As a cla.s.s, however, the proprietors of these craft were, and are, fishermen. "Queer people you meet on the river," wrote a correspondent who recently journeyed down the Ohio by canoe, "but perhaps the most interesting of all are the 'shanty-boat' tribe. We had had a long, hard morning's pull against head winds and had made little progress, were behind time and were discouraged. We were pa.s.sing the lone shanty-boat of a river tradesman, tied up on sh.o.r.e, waiting for the wind 'to lay.' Chris hailed him and asked leave to boil coffee on his stove. I expected a rebuff, but the trader cordially invited us to 'walk in, gentlemen; you seem ruther f.a.gged. Set down, set down. I seen you uns a pa.s.sin' us above t'other day, but this old tortus runs night and day and gits ahead of the rabbit sometimes while you're taking a nap.' And so the loquacious old chap ran on. Glad of a rest, we stayed and drifted with him some ten or twelve miles that night, bunking on a pile of bags in a corner. To be sure the wily old fox turned our visit to his profit. He proved to us plainly, by river logic, what our experience had already shown--that we had certain c.u.mbrous baggage that ought to be disposed of, and he bought it of us for a song, 'jest to accommodate you uns, you know; I'm allers a-buyin' a lot o' no-account truck, jest to help folks out.' Very likely! But the information he gave proved so valuable, his bacon tasted so good, that night spent with him drifting and resting was so pleasant--what did I care if it was all a scheme to strike a trade. Long into the night I sat with him as he steered his clumsy craft and shouted his queerly quavered songs. Finally he lapsed into silence. The frogs took up the song and had a monopoly, except for the gurgling of the water and the distant baying of a hound. I was just ready to feel romantic and silently soliloquizing the moon, when I heard a loud whisper from the other end of the shanty-boat, as one of the trader's young hopefuls said to his brother, 'Say, Bill, let's take the skiff and go ash.o.r.e and steal that hound barking.' 'Shet up, you young rascal,'

said the old man, never losing his good humor. 'You've got dogs enough a'ready to start a Noah's Ark. What do yer want with any more? You roll in.' Many kinds of people inhabit these shanty-boats. These boats are built at a cost of from twenty dollars up to two or three hundred. The ground to build on is free. There is no rent to pay. There is change of air and scenery. One house serves for winter and summer residences--the current and towboat carrying you back and forth. You can always be traveling, yet always at home. Your livelihood is gained sometimes one way, sometimes another--who questions? A man builds such a home, puts his family aboard; or, if he has no family, gets a cook if he chooses.... Then he drifts lazily during the summer, fishing, trapping, stealing and making his way to warmer climes as winter approaches. Far down at New Orleans or elsewhere, spring finds him and he sells out to return, or tows back with some fleet of barges, to begin again. Or a trader will load up at Pittsburg or Cincinnati with dry-goods, trinkets, queensware, everything, and make his way trading with the farmers or trappers, until at the end of the journey he has a rich store of bartered goods to sell ere his northward return. They are a careless, happy-go-lucky tribe of migrants--caring little for the morrow. 'Do you see this little chap?' said a big rough-bearded fellow to me one day, as he squeezed between his knees a fat, freckled, chuggy, grinning little cub. 'Well, he's five year old, born on the river, and he likes it better'n any other place. Don't you, hey, Johnny?' And so they eat their day's food, sleep in their floating homes, saw their old broken fiddles or pump wheezy accordeons, and are happy. Or sometimes as we often saw, an honest mechanic will build a cozy floating house, furnish it in comfortable style and moor it near his factory, saving rent and owning his home."

Several significant social changes wrought by the Civil War have been noted; it put an end to the days of the "coasting" trade of the flat-boats and to the "deckoneering" of white men. It also marked the pa.s.sing of the old gambling days in the steam-boat business. The three previous decades were famous days for a swarm of recognized banditti which may be said to have almost lived upon the Ohio-Mississippi boats.

The opulence and chivalry of Southern planters who traveled largely by steam-packets made gambling a source of immense revenue to such as always won.

It was always cards, and the steamboat is the ideal hunting-ground of the gambler and card-sharp; here is money, and those who have it are utterly at leisure. Back in the days of the third generation of rivermen, gambling, like drinking intoxicants, was not a social disgrace; many men of national reputation "sat in" on games of chance which are now outlawed. In such a social atmosphere and in such environment little wonder that the river-boats gained most unenviable reputation, until at last boat-owners were compelled to prohibit all such pastimes. Gamblers at times took possession of steamers and captains and clerks had almost no way to protect the pa.s.sengers. It is said that sometimes as high as ten thousand dollars and more has changed hands in one night in games played between sporting men and rich planters.

The story of one gambler's night is probably typical of the roughest of this phase, with the exception of actual murder which was, all too frequently, the climax of a night's gaming.

"Coming up on the 'Sultana' one night," a gambler leaves record, "there were about twenty-five of the toughest set of men as cabin pa.s.sengers I believe I ever met. They were on their way to Napoleon, Ark. which at that time was a great town and known as the jumping off place. In those days these Napoleon fellows were looked upon as cut-throats and robbers, and thought nothing of murdering a fellow simply to make them appear big men with their gang. I had for a partner a man named Canada Bill, as game a party as ever strode the deck of a steamboat, and one of the shrewdest gamblers I ever encountered. As soon as supper was over this gang of Arkansas toughs got in the cabin and of course wanted to play cards. Bill had opened up business in the main hall, and a great crowd had gathered about him. I saw that most of these devils had been drinking, and gave Bill the nod, which he of course understood. He only played a short while and left the game, pretending to be broke. Then we fixed it up that I should do the playing and he would watch out for any trouble. Well, the result was I got about everything the twenty-five men had, including their watches, and beat some seven or eight other pa.s.sengers. The men all took it apparently good-natured at the time, but as the night wore on and they kept drinking from their private flasks I made a sneak to my room and changed my clothes. By the back stairs I slipped down into the kitchen and sent a man after my partner. I had blackened my face, and looked like one of the negro rousters. I only had time to warn him, when a terrible rumpus upstairs told me the jig was up, and with their whiskey to aid them they were searching for me, and if they caught me it would be good day to me. I paid the cooks to keep mum, and Bill made himself scarce. They had their guns out, and were kicking in the state-room doors hunting for me. Some of them came down on deck, and were walking back and forth by me, cursing and threatening vengeance. I heard one of them ask a roustabout if he had noticed a well-dressed man down on deck lately. He of course had not, as Bill had gone back up the kitchen stairs, and with these devils was raising Cain, looking for me, and my disguise had not been discovered under the darkness of the night. The boat was plowing her way along up the coast.

The stevedores were shouting to the darkies, hurrying them along with the freight for a landing soon to be reached. The boat's whistle blew, and soon she was heading in for the sh.o.r.e. A crowd of these fellows were waiting for me, as they suspected I would try and get off. They were looking, mind you, for a well-dressed man. As soon as the boat landed about ten of them, guns in hand, ran out over the stage to sh.o.r.e and closely scanned the face of every person that came off. There was a stock of plows to be discharged from the boat's cargo, and noting the fact, I shouldered one and with it followed the long line of 'c.o.o.ns'

amid the curses of the mates, and fairly flew past these men who were hunting me. I kept on up the high bank and over the levee, and when I threw my plow in the pile with the others, made off for the cotton fields and laid flat on my back until the boat got again under way, and the burning pine in the torches on deck had been extinguished. It was a close call, I can a.s.sure you. Bill met me at Vicksburg the next day and brought the boodle, which we divided. He said the crowd took lights and searched the boat's hold for me after we left the landing. Bill must have played his part well, as he told me afterward that they never suspicioned him. Yes, I could tell many of my exploits. The river was for the greater portion of my gambling career my strongest hold. But it's all over now. Even should a man strike a big winning, there are always too many smart Alecks about, and you would have to whack up with so many that there would be little left for the winner."

The days of gambling on the river boats are not altogether gone but the days of the inland-water pirate are days of the distant past. In the time of the keel- and flat-boat the Ohio, and its tributaries to a certain extent, were infested with gangs of cut-throats and robbers whose exploits challenge the pen of a Scott. In certain portions of the river boatmen never dared to tie up at night, but kept their craft fairly in the swiftest current in order to hasten by these haunts. It was the common tradition among boatmen that their craft floated faster at night than in daylight; whatever the ground for this belief, it is certain the fastest current was all too slow if night found a _voyageur_, for instance, in the neighborhood of the notorious Hurricane Island between Illinois and Kentucky. Near here one Wilson, according to the Kentucky historian Collins, fitted up a "home" in famed Cave-in-Rock on the Illinois sh.o.r.e. This great cavern measures two hundred feet in length, eighty in width, the entrance being twenty-five feet high. Wilson's "place" was known as "Liquor Vault and House of Entertainment." "Its very novelty attracted the attention of the boats descending the river, and the crews generally landed for refreshments and amus.e.m.e.nts. Idle characters after awhile gathered here, and it soon became infamous for its licentiousness and blasphemy. Wilson ... formed a band of robbers, and laid plans of the deepest villainy...."[74]

Some of the gang escaped when they found public vengeance aroused against them, but some were taken prisoners; Wilson himself lost his life at the hands of one of his own gang, tempted by the large reward offered for his head. Not long after, in the upper part of this mysterious cavern, were found sixty skeletons, confirming the tale of systematic confidence, betrayal, and murder.

CHAPTER VI

THE NAVIGATION OF THE OHIO

The neglect of the Ohio River by the United States government cannot be better suggested than by comparing the expenditures on that river with the appropriations for the great land thoroughfare--the c.u.mberland Road.

In thirty-two years (1806-1838) the government spent $6,823,559.52 on the c.u.mberland Road. In seventy-five years (1827-1902) $6,752,042.04 was appropriated for the Ohio River and much of that was portioned out to the Mississippi, Missouri, and Arkansas.

It is impossible to determine with absolute a.s.surance when and where the first prominent movement looking toward the improvement of the Ohio River originated. With the burst of population into the West came the realization that the great waterway was a priceless possession.

It would be interesting to know in detail the actual condition of the Ohio, say at the dawning of the eighteenth century. That it was greatly clogged with sunken logs and protruding reefs and bars, of course, goes without saying. Perhaps the average stage of water was less than it is today; and yet the vast amount of water that stood in the tangled forests and open swamps and meadows drained off so slowly as to maintain a more uniform stage of water than is true in our day of alternate flood and drought. If less water flowed in the Ohio's bed a century ago the volume was at least more uniform than it is today.

As early as January 1817 a resolution was pa.s.sed by the Legislature of Ohio inviting the cooperation of Virginia, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and Indiana for the improvement of their great waterway. Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Kentucky promptly responded, and in 1819 a preliminary examination was made by General Blackburn of Virginia, General John Adair of Kentucky, General E. W. Tupper of Ohio and Walter Lowrie, Esq.

of Pennsylvania who made reports to their several legislatures under the date of November 2, 1819. But during the generation following, each of these commonwealths became absorbed in internal improvements. Ohio, for instance, between 1819 and 1844, built seven hundred and sixty-five miles of ca.n.a.ls costing nearly ten millions and almost as many miles of turnpike at a cost of four millions. Ohio also built seventy miles of railway, and in 1836 began to improve her most valuable river, the Muskingum, for slackwater navigation. Thus there was reason enough why Ohio could not undertake the improvement of the Ohio River. Her sister states were equally engaged with internal affairs, and though some steps were taken toward surveying the Ohio along the sh.o.r.es of several states the matter was left, as should have been the case, to the general Government.

This meant a long delay, but at last, in 1825, the great work was undertaken; since 1836 there has been a continual struggle to compel the Government to do its duty by the Ohio River and its great commerce. In 1837 the Government commenced a system of surveys and an improvement of the low-water channels by means of riprap stone dams, arranged so as to prevent the spread of the water by guiding and maintaining it in comparatively narrow channels. The work was put under the direction of Captain Sanders of the War Department. This system was continued at intervals until 1844, when, the appropriation being exhausted, the work suddenly ceased, not to be resumed until 1866.

Something of the difficulties of the old engineers may be estimated from the records left by them concerning the various obstructions in the Ohio River. "Thirty years ago," wrote an engineer in 1866, "there were considerable tracts of woods abounding the stream ... forming dangerous obstructions to navigation. Gradually, since that period, the number of settlers along the river valley has greatly increased, and the bottom lands ... have been cleared; so that comparatively few trees remain that are liable to fall into the stream. And the same is true of most of the princ.i.p.al tributaries. I refer to this to show the probability that when the present snags and logs are removed, a slight expenditure annually will keep the river clear of this character of obstructions." The snags and logs of generations had been almost untouched by the government--"left to the uncertain and unpaid-for attention of private individuals." The plan now (1866) to rid the valley entirely of these great impediments to navigation marks a new era in the history of the Ohio. It was found, upon examination, that in the six hundred odd miles between Pittsburg and Louisville there were seventy-five separate points where there were snags, forty-nine "logs and loggy places," twenty-eight wrecks and seventy-two "sunken boats &c." Between Louisville and Cairo there were some sixty additional obstructions of similar nature--a total of two hundred and eighty-five obstruction points. A schedule of these obstructions, between Pittsburg and Wheeling for instance, will be found interesting. The asterisks refer to obstructions in or near the channel at comparatively low water:

_Distance_ _from_ _Snags,_ _Wrecks, etc._ _Remarks._ _Pittsburg._ _etc._ ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 2-1/2 Wreck. In the right channel of Brunot's island below the point on the left side.

3 Wreck. Same side as last, half mile below.

3-1/3 Sunken barge. Left channel Brunot's island, first below point.

4 2 wrecks.* Sunken in main channel near old pork-house; one of them has lately washed ash.o.r.e.

9-3/4 Sunken barge. In sh.o.r.e on left side in way of good landing; above Hamilton's house, on Neville island, a large coal barge has stranded just below, but may be gotten off.

13 2 wrecks.* Above Boyle's landing; first, on right side, across channel, is very dangerous; second, in above, left.

15 Wreck. Near Shousetown, left side, close in sh.o.r.e.

16 Snag. Opposite Sewickley, a little below Boyle's landing.

16-1/2 Sunken barge. Right sh.o.r.e below Sewickley, in way of boats at high water.

18-1/2 Stranded Coal barge stranded, Logtown barge.* bar, below Economy.

19-1/2 Sunken barge.* In channel of two boats, Logtown creek.

21 Snag. Below foot of Crow island, right side.

23-2/3 Snag. One-third mile above Freedom, Penn., right side.

24 Snag. Close in sh.o.r.e at Freedom.

24-1/4 Snag. In main channel, very large, below landing.

30-1/3 Sunken boat. Close in to right; not dangerous below Racc.o.o.n creek.

30-1/4 Sunken boat. In channel below last; dangerous.