The History of Louisville, from the Earliest Settlement till the Year 1852 Part 2

The next in importance to the one above referred to, was known as Gwathmey's or Grayson's Pond. It began on Centre Street just in the rear of the First Presbyterian church, and extended Westwardly half way to Seventh Street. Its form was that of a long elipse; and it was carefully kept by its owners for fish.--Its margin was surrounded by lofty trees and the turf grew to the very edge of the water, which, fed by some internal spring, was always clear and pure. This pond was really a beautiful spot and formed a delightful lounging-place for the idle or the meditative, and one which neither of these cla.s.ses neglected. It was the scene of all the baptisms performed here in an early day, and no place could be better adapted for this purpose. Its gra.s.sy edges afforded an agreeable resting-place for the spectators, while its shape allowed every one to see, hear and partake in the exercises.

Beside these two princ.i.p.al lakes, there were innumerable others, some containing water only after heavy rains and others standing full at all times. Market Street from the corner of Third down was the site of one of these; Third Street between Jefferson and Green of another; Jefferson Street near the corner of Fourth of another, and so on almost _ad infinitum_. A map of the city as it was sixty or even thirty years ago, would present somewhat the appearance of an archipelago, a sea full of little islands. Whereas now, from the Woodland Garden to the foot of Fifteenth Street, a distance of nearly three miles, not one of these lakes is to be seen. It is not to be wondered at that, as the trees were removed from the surface and the face of these ponds exposed to the burning sun, they should spread the seeds of death all around them. As long as life was precarious from a hundred other causes, this one remained unnoticed, but as soon as the settlements began to be relieved from other fears for life and property, this was taken up, and in 1805 the Legislature authorised the Trustees to remove "those nuisances in such a manner as the majority of them should prescribe." But the means in the treasury being incompetent to this purpose, any efficient action in relation to it was delayed until after the fearful epidemics of 1822 and 1823, of which we shall have occasion to speak hereafter, when the Board of Health appointed to examine into the causes of the diseases and the means of removing the same, urged the prompt and immediate removal of these ponds. The Legislature during the latter year also authorised the raising of $40,000 by lottery to be applied to draining not only the ponds in Louisville, but also all those between the town and the mouth of Salt River. Under this act these ponds were drained, but those below the city were then left untouched. Many of them however have been since removed under a recent renewal of the act.

But we have been led beyond the era of which we were speaking, and must now return, in another chapter, to the history of the town from its establishment by law in 1780.

CHAPTER II.

1780--During the same year in which the town was established Kentucky received many valuable additions to its inhabitants; among these several persons of wealth or of talent came from the Atlantic States to settle among the "wild countries of the West," and they were accompanied by many others without either of these requisites, ready at once to seek any and every means of existence. Col. George Slaughter accompanied by 150 State troops descended to the falls and took up his quarters there during this year. This accession placed the inhabitants in comparative security, but it was only comparative, for, emboldened by the knowledge that their fortress was impregnable to the attacks of their foes, men became more careless and unguarded, and the Indians were the very foe to take advantage of this fancied security; so that, as the historian of the period says, the very strength of the settlement and the security of its inhabitants "had the effect of apparently drawing the Indians into that quarter." The fact, too, that the Ohio formed the natural boundary separating friend and foe was advantageous to the Indians. "They could approach its banks upon their own ground; they might cross it when convenient, reach the settlement, strike a blow and recross the river before a party could be collected or brought to pursue them. The river always presented an object of difficulty and very often an insuperable obstacle to further pursuit. In this state of things it is no matter of surprise that soldiers were shot near the fort, or that in the settlements of Beargra.s.s lives were lost, prisoners taken and horses stolen, with frequent impunity, or but sometimes retaliated."[2] Connected with these predatory incursions of the Indians, a great many wonderful stories are told of "hair-breadth 'scapes by field and flood." Histories of incidents in the Indian wars are, however, so similar in their character and so often told and widely known that we shall limit ourselves to the relation of only those that seem in their nature to demand admission here. The first of these presents one of those rare instances of magnanimity and true heroism that ever demands the attention of the chronicler. The station where Shelbyville now stands was a weak and inefficient one, and becoming alarmed by the presence of Indians in their vicinity, its inhabitants determined to remove to Beargra.s.s. In this attempted emigration, however, they were attacked by their foes near Floyd's Fork, defeated and scattered. Col. John Floyd, hearing of this, immediately started to their relief. In his party was Capt. Samuel Wells who had been on very unfriendly and even inimical terms with his superior officer.

Arrived near the point, Col. Floyd separated his men and cautiously approached the enemy. But despite his skill and caution, he fell into an ambuscade and was in his turn defeated with great loss. He himself must have fallen into the hands of the victors but for the magnanimity of Wells. Floyd had dismounted and was nearly exhausted, being closely pursued, when Wells, who had not quitted his horse, rode up and dismounting, helped his old enemy into the saddle and running by his side, supported and protected him till out of the reach of danger. This n.o.ble and generous action resulted in the fast and lasting friendship of the two men.

Another incident will show the education, even in boyhood, which the nature of the times demanded. Four young lads, two of them named Linn, accompanied by Wells and Brashears, went on a hunting party to a pond about six miles South-West of Louisville. They succeeded well in their sport, having killed among other game, a small cub bear. While they were a.s.sisting the elder Linn to strap the bear on his shoulders, and had laid down their guns, they were surprised by a party of Indians, and hurried over to the White river towns, where they remained in captivity several months. One of the party had in the mean time been carried to another town; and late in the fall the remaining three determined to effect their escape. When night had come, they rose quietly, and having stunned the old squaw, in whose hut they were living, by repeated blows with a small axe, they stole out of the lodge and started for Louisville. After daybreak, they concealed themselves in a hollow log, where they were frequently pa.s.sed by the Indians who were near them everywhere; and at night they resumed their march, guided only by the stars and their knowledge of woodcraft. After several days, during which they subsisted on the game they could procure, they reached the river at Jeffersonville. Arrived here they halooed for their friends, but did not succeed in making themselves heard. They had however no time to lose; the Indians were behind them and if they were retaken, they knew their doom. Accordingly, as two of them could not swim, they constructed a raft of the drift-logs about the sh.o.r.e and tied it together with grape vines, and the two launched upon it, while Brashears plunged into the water, pushing the raft with one hand and swimming with the other. Before they had arrived at the other sh.o.r.e, and when their raft was in a sinking condition from having taken up so much water, they were descried from this side, and boats went out and returned them safely to their friends.[3]

Only a few months ago, some gentlemen traveling near the south-eastern boundary of the city, discovered in an old tree the name of _D. Boone_ and the date 1779, appended. Considering this a great curiosity, one of them removed it from the tree and attempted to confirm the authenticity of the date by counting the circles in the wood of the tree. Finding these to agree with the date marked, he carefully preserved the block containing this record, which is now to be seen in the library of the Kentucky Historical Society. This circ.u.mstance is mentioned here only still further to confirm the authenticity of this block by stating a similar case which occurred in 1811. In the spring of 1779, Squire Boone, the brother of Daniel, in company with two others, went from the falls to Bullitt's Lick to shoot buffalo. After finishing their sport, they were returning home, when night overtook them at Stewart's Spring. The young men proposed to remain here for the night, but Boone objected, fearing an attack from the Indians. They accordingly turned off some 300 yards to the West, where they encamped for the night. There, while Boone and another of the party were arranging for the encampment, the third, being idle, amused himself by cutting a name and a few words on the bark of the tree. Afterwards, in 1811, during some legal investigation about lands, Boone testified to the existence of these marks near Stewart's Spring, and upon examination they were found just as he had stated, although 32 years had elapsed since the cut was made. This fact is placed upon record in the Court of Appeals and does not admit of a doubt. The instance before referred to is of a precisely similar character, and the marks are probably equally authentic as those of the last.

It would be easy to relate numerous instances, similar to those already given, both as to the wonderful skill of the pioneers in woodcraft, and their daring, danger and miraculous escapes in the Indian fights, but, as has already been said, these anecdotes, often incorrect, and always difficult to narrate without embellishment, are so familiar to the majority of readers, and possess such similarity of outline that they would be interesting here only to those who have some personal knowledge of the actors in those scenes. There will be occasion hereafter, in speaking of some of the distinguished men of another period of this history, to refer again to subjects kindred to those above narrated.

In May of this year, still 1780, the Legislature of Virginia, on account of the difficulties attending the proper administration of justice, and for other similar causes occasioned by the spa.r.s.eness of the settlements in so large an extent of territory, pa.s.sed an act dividing the county of Kentucky into three counties. Of these, the first was thus defined: "All that part of the South side of the Kentucky river which lies West and North of a line beginning at the mouth of Benson's Big Creek and running up the same and its main fork to the head, thence South to the nearest waters of Hammond's Creek, and down the same to its junction with the town fork of Salt river, thence South to Green river and down the same to its junction with the Ohio;" and was ordered to be known by the name of Jefferson. The other two counties were called Fayette and Lincoln.

Beside this there were few occurrences worthy of note during the year, which bear directly upon the subject of this history. Col. Clark had not only made his successful expedition against Pickway, but had built Fort Jefferson, five miles below the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers and in the territory of the Chickasaws, thus adding that tribe to the already numerous foes of his adopted State. It was however soon evacuated and this evacuation accepted and acted upon by both parties as a tacit treaty of peace.

Early in the next year--1781--Col. Clark received his commission as Brigadier General. He now began to feel the necessity for some new display of activity in defending the frontier and accordingly he built a sort of row-galley upon which he placed some four-pound cannon. This galley was kept plying between the Falls and the mouth of Licking, and is by some believed to have been of very great service in keeping off the attacks of the Indians; while others are of opinion that it was entirely valueless.

Be that as it may; the galley was abandoned by the General before the close of the year. The Indians are said never to have attacked it and but seldom to have crossed that part of the river in which it moved. Various as are the opinions in regard to the utility of Clark's barge, the fact of its having been so soon abandoned by the very projectors of the enterprise certainly does not speak much in its favor.

Another of the most important features of this year, perhaps indeed the very most important, was one which will now produce a smile. At that time, however, it was a subject of serious congratulation to the inhabitants of the new country. This was no less than the large immigration of young unmarried women into this region, abounding in young unmarried men. One of the historians of the time, in chronicling this event, remarks, with all the soberness and propriety due to the most solemn subject, that "the necessary consequence of this large influx of girls was the rapid and wonderful increase of population." Whether this increase was produced by purely natural means or by foreign immigration is left by him in the profoundest doubt. Perhaps that worthy individual known as "The Oldest Inhabitant" could elucidate this point.

The only other circ.u.mstance worthy of notice during the year, was the building at the falls of a new fort. History gives us no information either as to the name or location of this position of defense. Its very name and history is swallowed up in that of Fort Nelson which must have been built very soon after, if it was not commenced at the same time as this nameless fort.

Fort Nelson was built in 1782 by the regular troops, a.s.sisted by all the militia of the State. It was situated between Sixth and Eighth Streets on the North side of Main, immediately upon the "second bank" of the river.

Its name was derived, as some say from Capt. Nelson, an influential citizen of Louisville in that day, but more probably was named in honor of the third republican governor of Virginia. It contained about an acre of ground and was surrounded by a ditch eight feet wide and ten feet deep, intersected in the middle by a sharp row of pickets. This ditch was surmounted by a breast work of log pens filled with the earth obtained from the ditch, with pickets ten feet high planted on the top of the breast work. Next to the river, pickets were deemed sufficient, aided by the long slope of the bank. There was artillery likewise in the fort. Col.

Slaughter had brought with him several very small cannon, and Gen. Clark had placed here a double fortified six-pounder, which he had captured at Vincennes. This last piece played no inconsiderable part both in the previous and subsequent expeditions of this General. The present site of Seventh Street pa.s.sed directly through the gate of the fort opposite the head quarters of Gen. Clark. The pickets and various other parts of this fort have been from time to time, since 1830, dug up in excavating cellars at the place formerly occupied by the post. Many of the pickets thus excavated have been made into walking canes and are valued as memorials of the past.

This year was perhaps one of the most disastrous and dreadful in the annals of Kentucky. Although the settlements at the Falls were comparatively free from danger of attack, yet the older stations were suffering all the horrors of a b.l.o.o.d.y war. Several white men, impelled either by a love of the licentiousness and freedom from restraint of the savage life or by fear of punishment for their crimes, had united themselves with the Indians and constantly urged them against the Whites.

The most celebrated of these were Girty and McKee, who had risen to a commanding rank among the red men, and their knowledge of the settlements enabled them to direct their new friends in all their expeditions.

Previous to the great battle in which these renegadoes figured so largely, was the defeat and death of Captain Estill on Hinckston's Fork of Licking and also a b.l.o.o.d.y fight at or near Hoy's station. The great battle of the year however was at Blue Licks, and it was here that these renegadoes, whose names deserve and will receive perpetual execration, were successful. The result of this battle is well known to all readers of western history. Its effect upon the inhabitants of the new State was disheartening in the extreme. Gen. Clark, who was still at the Falls, seeing the necessity for rousing the people from their despondence and desirous of punishing the foe, proposed to a council of officers an expedition against the Indian towns on Miami and Scioto. And accordingly nearly one thousand men made rendezvous at the mouth of Licking and started for the towns. The Indians discovered their approach too soon for anything like a decisive battle, and they found only deserted towns and straggling Indians on their march. The result of this invasion however convinced both sides of the superiority of the Whites, and restored the drooping spirits in the settlements. After this expedition the country remained quiet during the year, nor did any considerable party of Indians ever again invade the State.

In the winter of this year commenced the first of anything like intercourse between this part of the Ohio and New Orleans. Messrs.

Tardiveau and Honore, the latter of whom resided in this city until within a few years, made the earliest trip from Brownsville to that port, and subsequently continued to make regular trips from Louisville to the French and Spanish ports on the Mississippi. Even previous to this, Col. Richard Taylor and his brother Hanc.o.c.k Taylor, had descended from Pittsburg to the mouth of the Yazoo; and Messrs. Gibson and Linn, in 1776, had made a trip from Pittsburg to New Orleans with a view to procuring military stores for the troops stationed at the former place. These gentlemen succeeded in their expedition, having obtained 156 kegs of powder, which arrived at the Falls in 1777, was carried around them by hand, and finally delivered at Pittsburg.

These early attempts at navigation were soon succeeded by the constant and regular trips of the Barges. Perhaps the most stirring and exciting scenes of western adventure were connected with the voyages of these peculiar craft. The bargemen were a distinct cla.s.s of people whose fearlessness of character, recklessness of habits and laxity of morals rendered them a marked people. Their history will hereafter form the groundwork of many a heroic romance or epic poem. In the earlier stages of this sort of navigation, their trips were dangerous, not only on account of the Indians whose hunting-grounds bounded their track on either side, but also because the sh.o.r.es of both rivers were infested with organized banditti, who sought every occasion to rob and murder the owners of these boats. Beside all this the Spanish Government had forbidden the navigation of the lower Mississippi by the Americans, and thus, hedged in every way by danger, it became these boatmen to cultivate all the hardihood and wiliness of the Pioneer, while it led them also into the possession of that recklessness and independent freedom of manner, which even after the causes that produced it had ceased, still clung to and formed an integral part of the character of the Western Bargeman. It is a matter of no little surprise that something like an authentic history of these wonderful men has never been written. Certainly it is desirable to preserve such a history, and no book could have been undertaken which would be likely to produce more both of pleasure and profit to the writer and none which would meet with a larger circle of delighted readers. The traditions on the subject are, even at this recent period, so vague and contradictory that it would be difficult to procure anything like reliable or authentic data in regard to them. No story in which the bargemen figure is too improbable to be narrated, nor can one determine what particular person is the hero of an incident which is in turn laid at the door of each distinguished member of the whole fraternity. Some of these incidents however will serve so well to give an idea of the peculiar characteristics of the bargemen, and possess so much merit in themselves, that they cannot be omitted here.

Previous to referring to any of these anecdotes, however, it may be interesting to introduce the following excellent description of the manner of navigating the Ohio and Mississippi prior to the introduction of steamboats. It is from the pen of Audubon, the celebrated ornithologist, whose death has been recently announced and has caused a feeling of deep regret in all who know how to admire that union of simple goodness of character with greatness of mind and untiring energy of study, which he, perhaps more than any other American, possessed.

"The keelboats and barges were employed," says this extract, "in conveying produce of different kinds, such as lead, flour, pork and other articles.

These returned laden with sugar, coffee and dry goods, suited for the markets of Genevieve and St. Louis on the upper Mississippi or branched off and ascended the Ohio to the foot of the falls at Louisville. A keelboat was generally manned by ten hands, princ.i.p.ally Canadian French, and a patroon or master. These boats seldom carried more than from twenty to thirty tons. The barges had frequently forty or fifty men, with a patroon, and carried fifty or sixty tons. Both these kind of vessels were provided with a mast, a square sail, and coils of cordage known by the name of cordelles. Each boat or barge carried its own provisions. We shall suppose one of these boats under way, and, having pa.s.sed Natchez, entering upon what were called the difficulties of their ascent. Wherever a point projected so as to render the course or bend below it of some magnitude, there was an eddy, the returning current of which was sometimes as strong as that of the middle of the great stream. The bargemen, therefore, rowed up pretty close under the bank, and had merely to keep watch in the bow lest the boat should run against a planter or sawyer. But the boat has reached the point, and there the current is to all appearance of double strength and right against it. The men, who have rested a few minutes, are ordered to take their stations and lay hold of their oars, for the river must be crossed, it being seldom possible to double such a point and proceed along the same sh.o.r.e. The boat is crossing, its head slanting to the current, which is, however, too strong for the rowers, and when the other side of the river has been reached, it has drifted perhaps a quarter of a mile. The men are by this time exhausted, and, as we shall suppose it to be 12 o'clock, fasten the boat to a tree on the sh.o.r.e. A small gla.s.s of whiskey is given to each, when they cook and eat their dinner, and after resting from their fatigue for an hour, re-commence their labors. The boat is again seen slowly advancing against the stream. It has reached the lower end of a sandbar, along the edge of which it is propelled by means of long poles, if the bottom be hard. Two men, called bowsmen, remain at the prow to a.s.sist, in concert with the steersman, in managing the boat and keeping its head right against the current. The rest place themselves on the land side of the footway of the vessel, put one end of their poles on the ground and the other against their shoulders and push with all their might. As each of the men reaches the stern, he crosses to the other side, runs along it and comes again to the landward side of the bow, when he re-commences operations. The barge in the mean time is ascending at a rate not exceeding one mile in the hour.

"The bar is at length pa.s.sed, and as the sh.o.r.e in sight is straight on both sides and the current uniformly strong, the poles are laid aside, and the men being equally divided, those on the river side take to their oars, while those on the land-side lay hold of the branches of willows or other trees, and thus slowly propel the boat. Here and there, however, the trunk of a fallen tree, partly lying on the bank and partly projecting beyond it, impedes their progress and requires to be doubled. This is performed by striking into it the iron points of the poles and gaff-hooks, and so pulling around it. The sun is now quite low, and the barge is again secured in the best harbor within reach for the night, after having accomplished a distance of perhaps fifteen miles. The next day the wind proves favorable, the sail is set, the boat takes all advantages, and, meeting with no accident, has ascended thirty miles--perhaps double that distance. The next day comes with a very different aspect. The wind is right ahead, the sh.o.r.es are without trees of any kind, and the canes on the bank are so thick and stout that not even the cordelles can be used.

This occasions a halt. The time is not altogether lost, as most of the men, being provided with rifles, betake themselves to the woods and search for the deer, the bears or the turkeys that are generally abundant there.

Three days may pa.s.s before the wind changes, and the advantages gained on the previous five days are forgotten. Again the boat proceeds, but in pa.s.sing over a shallow place, runs on a log, swings with the current, but hangs fast with her lea-side almost under water. Now for the poles! all hands are on deck, bustling and pushing. At length, towards sunset, the boat is once more afloat, and is again taken to the sh.o.r.e where the wearied crew pa.s.s another night.

"I could tell you of the crew abandoning the boat and cargo and of numberless accidents and perils, but be it enough to say, that advancing in this tardy manner, the boat that left New Orleans on the 1st of March, often did not reach the Falls of Ohio until the month of July, sometimes not until October; and after all this immense trouble, it brought only a few bags of coffee and at most one hundred hogsheads of sugar. Such was the state of things as late as 1808. The number of barges at that period did not amount to more than 25 or 30, and the largest probably did not exceed one hundred tons burden. To make the best of this fatiguing navigation, I may conclude by saying that a barge which came up in three months, had done wonders, for I believe few voyages were performed in that time."

In this little history, Mr. Audubon has said nothing of what was by far the most "dangerous danger" to which the crews of these craft were exposed. This was the attack, open and fearless as well as sneaking and treacherous, of the Boatwreckers. The country on both sides of the river from Louisville to the mouth of the Ohio was an almost unpeopled wilderness. On the north side of the river from Fort Ma.s.sac to the Mississippi, there lived a gang of these desperadoes, whose exploits need only the genius of a Schiller to render them the wonder of the world and the admiration of those who love to gloat over tales of blood. There was an impudence and recklessness of life and of danger connected with these fellows, coupled with a dash of spirit and humor, that would render them excellent _materiel_ in the hands of a skillful novelist; but they lacked that high sense of honor and that gentlemanly bearing which made heroes of the robbers of the Rhine, of Venice or of Mexico.

Their plan of action was to induce the crew of the pa.s.sing "broad-horn" to land, to play a game of cards, (the favorite pa.s.sion of the boatmen) and to cheat them unmercifully. If this scheme failed, they would pilot the boats into a difficult place, or, in pretended friendship, give them from the sh.o.r.es such directions as would not fail to run them on a snag or dash them to pieces against some hidden obstruction. If they were outwitted in all this, they would creep into the boats as they were tied up at night, and bore holes in the bottom or dig out the caulking. When the boat was sinking, they would get out their skiffs and craft of all kinds, and in the most philanthropic manner come to save the goods from the wreck. And save them they did, for they would row them up the little creeks that led from swamps in the interior and no trace of them could afterwards be seen.

Or if some hardy fellow dared to go in pursuit of his _saved_ cargo, he was sure to find an unknown grave in the mora.s.ses.

One of the most famous of these boatwreckers was Col. Fluger of New Hampshire, who is better known in the West as Col. Plug. This worthy gentleman long held undisputed sway over the quiet boatwreckers about the mouth of Cash Creek. He was supposed to possess keys to every warehouse between that place and Louisville, and to have used them for his own private purposes on many occasions. He was a married man and became the father of a family. His wife's soubriquet was Pluggy and like many others of her s.e.x, her charms were a sore affliction to the Colonel's peace of mind. Plug's lieutenant was by him suspected of undue familiarity with Mrs. Col. Plug. The Colonel's nice sense of honor was outraged, his family pride aroused--he called Lieutenant Nine-Eyes to the field.

"Dern your soul," said he, "do you think this sort of candlestick ammer (clandestine amour he meant,) will pa.s.s? If you do, by gosh, I will put it to you or you shall put it to me."

They used rifles, the ground was measured, the affair settled in the most proper and approved style. And they did put it to each other. Each received a ball in some fleshy part, and each admitted that "he was satisfied."

"You are all grit!" said Col. Plug.

"And you waded in like a raal Kaintuck," rejoined Nine-Eyes.

Col. Plug's son and heir, who very possibly was the real subject-matter of dispute, and who was upon the ground, was ordered to place a bottle of whisky midway between the disputants. Up to this they limped and over it they embraced, swearing that "they were too well used to these things to be phazed by a little cold lead;" and Pluggy's virtue having been thus proved immaculate, the duel as well as the animosity of the parties ceased. Col. Plug, man of honor as he was, sometimes met with very rough treatment from the boatmen, whose half savage natures could ill appreciate a gentleman of his birth and breeding. An instance of this is recorded by the same historian upon whom we have drawn for the greater part of the above account of the duel.[4] A broad-horn from Louisville had received rough usage from Plug's men the year before, and accordingly, on their next descent, they laid their scheme of revenge. Several of their crew left the boat before arriving at Plug's domain, and quietly stole down the river bank to its place of landing. The boat with its small crew was quietly harbored, the men hospitably received and invited to sit down to a game of cards. They were scarcely seated and had placed their money before them, when Plug's signal whistle for an onset sounded in their ears. The reserve corps of boatmen also heard it, knew its import and rushed to the rescue. The battle was quickly over. Three of Plug's men were thrown into the river and the rest fled, leaving their brave commander on the field.

Resistance did not avail him. Those ruthless boatmen stripped him to the skin, and forcing him to embrace a sapling about the size of his dear Pluggy's waist, they bound him immovably in this loving squeeze. Then seizing the cowhide each applied it till he was tired, and so they left him alone with his troublesome thoughts and with a yet more troublesome and sanguinary host of musquitoes, which, lured by the ease with which they could now get a full meal of that blood which had before been effectually preserved from their attacks by a thick epidermis, sallied forth to the feast by myriads. Pluggy, finding her bower lonely without its lord, came forth to seek him. Closely embracing the tree and covered from any immodest exposure of his person by a gauzy cloud of musquito wings, she found him. Clasping her hands, with a Siddons-like start and air, she cried, in her peculiarly elegant but somewhat un-English dialect: "Yasu Cree! O carissimo sposo, what for, like von dem fool, you hug zat tree and let ze marengoes eat up all your sweet brud?"

The historian is pained to record that all the answer she obtained to this tender solicitude was a curse. Plug cursed her, but Plug's evil spirit was aroused. Let the reader suppose himself in Plug's position and he will not blame that gentleman for the ungenerous reply that forced itself to his lips.

Not very long after this, Col. Plug came to his untimely end. Just as a squall was coming up, Col. Plug was in a boat whose crew had left it for an hour or so, engaged in the exercise of his profession; that is, he was digging the caulking out of the bottom, when the squall came on rather prematurely and broke the fastenings of the boat. It began to sink, and Col. Plug after vain endeavors to reach the sh.o.r.e, sank with it and was seen no more. Whether Pluggy still bewails her lost lord or has followed him in sorrow to the other sh.o.r.e, history does not tell us.

This sketch of the character of the boat wreckers will prepare the reader for forming some idea of the boatmen who were their prey. Among the most celebrated of these, every reader of western history will at once remember MIKE FINK, the hero of his cla.s.s. So many and so marvellous are the stories told of this man that numbers of persons are inclined altogether to disbelieve his existence. That he did live however does not admit of a doubt. Many are yet living who knew him personally. As it is to him that all the more remarkable stories of western river adventure are attributed, his history will form the only example here given to ill.u.s.trate the character of the western bargemen. It is however necessary to observe, that while Mike possessed all the characteristics of his cla.s.s, a history of the various adventures attributed to him would present these characteristics in an exaggerated degree. Even the slight sketch here drawn cannot pretend to authenticity; for, aside from the fact, that, like other heroes, Mike has suffered from the exuberant fancy of his historians, he has also had in his own person to atone to posterity for many acts which never came from under his hand and seal. As the representative, however, of an extinct cla.s.s of men, his ashes will not rise in indignation even if he is again made the "hero of fields his valor never won."

Mike Fink was born in or near Pittsburg, where certain of his relatives still reside. In his earlier life he acted in the capacity of an Indian spy, and won great renown for himself by the wonderful facility with which, while yet a boy, he gained a knowledge of every act and movement of the foe. But while in the exercise of this calling, the free, wild and adventurous life of the boatmen attracted his youthful fancy, and the enchanting music of the boat-horn soon lured him away from Pittsburg to try his fortunes on the broad Ohio. He had learned to mimic all the tones of the boatman's horn, and he longed to go to New Orleans where he heard that the people spoke French and wore their Sunday clothes every day. He went, and from an humble pupil in his profession soon became a glorious master. When the river was too low to be navigable, Mike spent his time in the practice of rifle-shooting, then so eminently useful and desirable an accomplishment; and in this, as in all his serious undertakings, he soon surpa.s.sed his compeers. His skill with the rifle was so universally acknowledged, that whenever Mike was present at a Shooting-Match for Beef, such as were then of common occurrence all over the country, he was always allowed the fifth quarter, i. e. the hide and the tallow, without a shot.

This was a perquisite of Mike's skill, and one which he always claimed, always obtained and always sold for whisky with which to "treat the crowd." His capacity as a drinker was enormous; he could drink a gallon in twenty-four hours without its effect being perceptible in his language or demeanor. Mike was a bit of a wag, too, and had a singular way of enforcing his jests. He used to say that he told his jokes on purpose to be laughed at, and no man should "make light" of them. The consequence was, that whoever had the temerity to refuse a laugh where Mike intended to raise one, received a sound drubbing and an admonition for the future, which was seldom neglected. His practical jokes, for so he and his a.s.sociates called their predations on the inhabitants of the sh.o.r.es along which they pa.s.sed, were always characterized by a boldness of design and a sagacity of execution that showed no mean talent on Mike's part. One of the most ingenious of these tricks, and one which affords a fair idea of the spirit of them all, is told as follows: Pa.s.sing slowly down the river, Mike observed a very large and beautiful flock of sheep grazing on the sh.o.r.e, and being in want of fresh provisions, but scorning to buy them, Mike hit upon the following expedient. He noticed that there was an eddy near to the sh.o.r.e, and, as it was about dusk, he landed his boat in the eddy and tied her fast. In his cargo there were some bladders of scotch-snuff. Mike opened one of these and taking out a handful of the contents, he went ash.o.r.e and catching five or six of the sheep, rubbed their faces very thoroughly with the snuff. He then returned to his boat and sent one of his men in a great hurry to the sheep-owner's house to tell him that he "had better come down and see what was the matter with his sheep." Upon coming down hastily in answer to Mike's summons, the gentleman saw a portion of his flock very singularly affected; leaping, bleating, rubbing their noses against the ground and against each other, and performing all manner of undignified and unsheeplike antics. The gentleman was sorely puzzled and demanded of Mike "if he knew what was the matter with the sheep."

"You don't know?" answered Mike very gravely.

"I do not," replied the gentleman.

"Did you ever hear of the black murrain?" asked Mike in a confidential whisper.

"Yes," said the sheep owner in a terrified reply.

"Well, that's it!" said Mike. "All the sheep up river's got it dreadful.

Dyin' like rotten dogs--hundreds a day."

"You don't say so," answered the victim, "and is there no cure for it?"

"Only one as I knows on," was the reply. "You see the murrain's dreadful catchin', and ef you don't git them away as is got it, they'll kill the whole flock. Better shoot 'em right-off; they've got to die any way."

"But no man could single out the infected sheep and shoot them from among the flock," said the gentleman.

"My name's Mike Fink!" was the curt reply.