in Louisville as a merchant prior to March, 1789, when General
Harmar addressed him as a merchant there. He located a station
on the northern shore of the Ohio, three miles above Fort Steuben,
now Jeffersonville, where he had purchased land in the Clark
grant. In a MS. letter of Captain Joseph Ashton, commanding at
Fort Steuben, addressed to General Harmar, April 3, 1790, these
facts are given relative to the attack on Lacassangue's station.
That on the preceding March 29th, the Indians made their attack,
killing one man. There were only two men, their wives, and
fourteen children in the station. Word was immediately conveyed
to Captain Ashton of their situation, who detached a sergeant
and fourteen men to their relief, and who arrived there, Captain
Ashton states, in sixteen minutes after receiving intelligence
of the attack. The Indians, three in number, had decamped, and
were pursued several miles until their trail was lost on a dry
ridge. The families were removed to Fort Steuben, and thus the
station was, for a time, broken up.
Mr. Lacassangue must have been quite a prominent trader at
Louisville in his day. About the first of June, 1790, Colonel
Vigo, an enterprising trader of the Illinois country, consigned
to him 4,000 pounds of lead, brought by Major Doughty from
Kaskaskia. Mr. Lacassangue made efforts, in after years, to give
character to his new town of Cassania--a name evidently coined
out of his own--hoping from its more healthful situation, and
better location for the landing of vessels destined to pass the
Falls, to supplant Louisville. The little place, General Collot
says, had in 1796, when he saw it, "only two or three houses,
and a store." The ambitious effort was a vain one, and Cassania
soon became lost to the geographical nomenclature of the country.
Mr. Lacassangue died in 1797.
A nephew of Mrs. Washington of the name of Dandridge lived with Mr.
Lacassangue. When I returned to Philadelphia, I there met him again;
he resided at General Washington's. While the Dandridge family stayed
at Louisville, they received much attention. It was the custom of the
citizens, when any persons of note arrived there, to get up a ball in
their honor. They would choose managers; circulate a subscription
paper to meet the expenses of the dance. Every signer, except
strangers, must provide his partner, see her safe there and home
again.
We had scarcely got located before a subscription paper was presented
to Uncle Forman and myself. But the first ball after our arrival
proved a failure, owing to the inclemency of the weather, so that no
ladies could attend. General Wilkinson happened in town, and though he
and Uncle Forman stayed but a little while, the young blades were
disposed for a frolic. Some time before this a ball was tendered to
General St. Clair, when the youngsters had a row, and destroyed the
most of the breakable articles that the house afforded. But such
instances of rudeness occurred only when no ladies were present.
Not long after the failure on account of the weather, the scheme for a
dance was renewed, and, at length, we had an elegant collection of
southern fair. The ball was opened by a minuet by Uncle Forman and a
southern lady--Aunt Forman did not dance. This was the last time, I
believe, that I saw that elegant dance performed. Then two managers
went around with numbers on paper in a hat--one going to the ladies,
the other to the gentlemen. When the manager calls for lady No. 1, the
lady drawing that number stands up, and is led upon the floor,
awaiting for gentleman No. 1, who, when called, takes his place, and
is introduced by the manager to the lady. So they proceed with the
drawing of couples until the floor is full for the dance.
I, in my turn, was drawn, and introduced to my dancing partner from
Maryland, and we were called to the first dance. This lady happened to
be acquainted with Uncle Forman's oldest son, General Thomas Marsh
Forman, which circumstance rendered our casual meeting all the more
agreeable. The officers of the garrison over the river generally
attended, and they brought the military music along. I became well
acquainted with the officers. Dr. Carmichael,[14] of the army, used
often to come over and sit in my store.
[14] Dr. John F. Carmichael, from New Jersey, entered the army
in September, 1789, and, with the exception of a few months,
retained his position till his resignation in June, 1804.
It was the last of February, I believe, when Uncle Forman and his
little fleet took their departure from Louisville, destined for the
Natchez country. The river was now free from ice. There subsequently
came a report, that when they reached what was called the low country,
below the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers, they were captured by the
Indians. I was in a painful suspense for a long time, and until I
heard from them.
While Uncle Forman and party were sojourning in Louisville, there was,
it appears, a white man there, who learned the names of Ezekiel Forman
and Captain Osmun, their place of destination, and all about them.
This fellow was a decoyer, who lived among the Indians, and whose
business it was to lure boats ashore for purposes of murder and
robbery. At some point below the mouth of the Tennessee, this renegade
saw the boats approaching, ran on the beach, imploring, upon his
bended knees, that Mr. Forman, calling him by name, would come ashore
and take him on board, as he had just escaped from the Indians. Mr.
Forman began to steer for his relief, when Captain Osmun, who was a
little way in the rear, hailed Uncle, warning him to keep in the
middle of the stream, as he saw Indians in hiding behind trees along
the bank where the wily decoyer was playing his treacherous part.
Giving heed to this admonition, Uncle Forman kept clear of the
dangerous shore.
Then an old Indian, finding that his plot was exposed, ran down to the
beach, hailing the boats: "Where you go?" It is not clear what could
have been the Indian's motive in making a display of himself, and
seeking the information already known to his renegade associate. But
for the circumstance of Captain Osmun being in the rear, and
discovering the exposed Indians screened behind trees, the whole party
might have been lured on shore and massacred. It seems that, after
boats entered the Mississippi, they were not molested by the Indians,
as they were not at war with the Spaniards.
I was left in Louisville, with a store of goods. When I had disposed
of them, I was directed to join Uncle Forman at Natchez; but some
considerable time was necessary to trade off my stock, and convert it
into tobacco. I spent my time very pleasantly at Louisville. The
southern people are remarkably friendly to strangers. One family, in
particular, Mr. and Mrs. Ashby, were as kind to me as though I had
been their own son. They soon called on Uncle and Aunt Forman,
showing all possible attention, and soon became quite familiar.
One day, Mr. Ashby called, and inquired of Aunt for "_old_ Mr.
Forman." "I tell you, Mr. Ashby," Mrs. Forman laughingly replied, "you
shall not call my husband _old_. Please to refer to him as Mr. Forman,
and our nephew as Mr. Sam. Forman." Mr. Ashby took the suggestion in
good part, and promised ready obedience. After Uncle and Aunt Forman
left for the Natchez country, Mrs. Ashby would come to my store like a
mother, and inquire into the condition of my lodgings, and sent bed
and bedding, and had a kind old woman examine my trunk, taking out all
my clothing, first airing and then nicely replacing them, and kindly
did all my washing during my stay. Mr. Ashby had a farm a little way
out of town, but he and his family came in very often. Mrs. Ashby
never came without making me a motherly call, and looking over my
clothing to see if any repairs were needed. I never parted with
briefly-made acquaintances with so much regret.
I became very intimate with a Mr. Smith, from New York, a young
gentleman about my own age. The Virginians, as were most of the
Louisville people, were very fond of dancing. Smith and I agreed to
let each other know when a hop was in agitation, and they were very
frequent. When notified by him of one such occasion, I apologized for
not being able to go, as I had no suitable pumps. "You have
purchased," said he, "a parcel of elegant moccasins for your New York
ladies. You don a pair, and I will another." "Good! good!" we mutually
ejaculated. So we engaged our favorite partners, and attended the
ball. It was something new to appear in such an assembly decked off
in such Indian gear; but they were much admired, and, at the next
dance, almost all appeared in moccasins. So, it seems, we led the ton,
and introduced a new fashion.
There was but one tavern and one boarding-house in the place. The
boarding-house was kept by a Dr. Walter, who was also the pilot to
take boats over the Falls; and he was, moreover, a great hunter and
fisherman. One day in April, I think, at some public festival, several
of our boarders, the leader was the Commissary of the Army, proposed
to have what they called _a setting_, and asked me to join them. I had
often heard the commissary relate his exploits--drinking egg-nog was
then all the go. I declined to share in the frolic, fearing the
influence of these southern blades on such occasions. In the course of
the night, I was alarmed by the rattling of stones thrown against my
store-door and window-shutters. At first, I thought it might be
Indians. The clatter was kept up, and the glass windows all broken. I
finally concluded that it was the work of the egg-nog party. Not only
were my windows completely shattered, but my store door was broken
open by the pelting of large stones.
These egg-nog disturbers served Captain Thomas, the landlord, in the
same way as they had done me. The next morning, when we all met at the
breakfast table at our boarding-house, scarcely a word was spoken
during the meal. As I went out of the door, passing my friend, the
commissary, I asked him if he would direct my windows glazed, and some
little carpenter work done. He pretended to be astonished how they
should have been broken. I made no reply, but walked back to my
store, only looked at him and smiled. In the afternoon, at Captain
Thomas's, the business assumed almost a tragical form--dirks were
nearly drawn; however, it was amicably settled.
The next morning these gentlemen asked me if I would be satisfied if
my windows and door were made whole. I answered in the affirmative,
and asked them whether they had not acted very imprudently, situated
as we were on the frontiers in time of Indian warfare. "You know,"
said I, "that it was but a little time since that Captain Thomas and
some others saw Indians in the night making, as they supposed, for my
store, when I kept it up by Bear Grass creek; and a few people got
together in the night, and followed the Indian trail out of the
village without alarming me. The Indians evidently thought themselves
discovered, and retired, hence I escaped. In consequence of this
alarm, I immediately moved from that place to the center of the
village, into the corner building opposite the tavern."
It was observed one Sunday morning, soon after starting my store, that
it was not opened on that day, as other establishments were; and I was
asked why I kept my store closed--that Sunday had not crossed the
mountains, and that I was the first person who kept his store shut on
that day. I told them that I brought the Sabbath with me. It so
happened that I had the honor of being the first to observe the day in
Louisville.
Directly opposite to me a billiard table was kept. It was customary at
the south for ladies to indulge in billiards, considering it a genteel
and healthful amusement. During the morning hours, a few ladies used
to honor me with a call, when I would spend a little while in that
pleasant recreation; but I never gambled, and ladies' company is
always more agreeable than gentlemen's. Besides, if you play with
gentlemen, it is apt to lead to gambling; and it was consequently
better to pay for the use of the table with ladies, when one improves
in manners from their refinement.
One day Captain Thomas brought a little negro boy to my store,
tendering me his services while I remained in Louisville; that he
should be of no expense to me, but live at home, and come over
regularly and do my chores, tote water, sweep my store, clean my
shoes, etc. The captain explained that he had another boy of about the
same age and size, and that one was better than both. I had a spruce
colored barber, who was also a tailor, the pleasure of whose company I
occasionally had in helping out in my labors.
Sometime about the latter part of May, perhaps, four tobacco boats
arrived at Louisville on their way to New Orleans, under the
respective command of Captain Andrew Bayard, Captain Winters, and
Captain Gano, of New York, and Captain January, of Kentucky. Captain
Bayard's boat received some injury in passing over the Falls of the
Ohio, and he had to unload to repair damages. I had been some time
negotiating with a rich planter, Mr. Buckner, of Louisville. After I
had heard of the accident to Captain Bayard's boat, Mr. Buckner came
into the village. I got him in my store, locked the door, and told him
that now was the time to close our long-talked-of trade, so that I
could have the company of this descending fleet. After spending the
night in conversation, I gave up my bed to Mr. Buckner, and threw
down some blankets and coarse clothes for my own lodging.
To make a long story short, we effected a trade--closing out my store
of goods to him. He bought me a tobacco boat, loaded her with this
product of the country, and got matters and things arranged so that I
was ready to accompany the descending fleet. Of these tobacco traders,
I was partially acquainted with Mr. Bayard. I had at Louisville a
competitor in trade, a young Irish gentleman, but he could not
succeed.
My boat was loaded below the Falls, and by some means the hands
suffered her to break from her fastenings, and went a mile or two down
stream before they brought her to. I put my blanket on board of Mr.
Bayard's boat, and got on board with him, and took my tea with him. In
the evening, being moonlight, my canoe, with an old sailor, came for
me. I took some blankets and wrapped them around my arms carelessly. I
jumped into the canoe; and the sailor, it seems, had taken a little
too much whisky, so that when he pushed off from Mr. Bayard's boat, in
order to clear its bow, he leaned over so far as to make the canoe dip
water; and, in recovering his position, he leaned so far the other way
that the canoe filled. My arms being entangled with the blankets, I
was totally helpless. Mr. Bayard's hands jumped into their small boat,
came to my rescue, and saved me from a watery grave.
Partly from economy, and partly from lack of time to secure another
hand, I attempted to manage my tobacco boat, which was somewhat
smaller than the usual size, with less than the usual supply of
boatmen. This made it come hard on me, whose unskilled strength was
but half that of an ordinary man. I had this old sailor with me for
one watch, and an old North-western man and a Jerseyman for another.
The boats would follow the current, except when passing islands, when
the men must all beat their oars. I believe the old sailor, while on
board, was a little deranged. After I discharged him at Natchez, he
was found, I was told, in the woods, dead.
Nothing of any moment occurred while descending the Ohio, until we
reached Fort Massac, an old French fortification, about thirty miles
above the mouth of the Ohio. It was a beautiful spot. All of the
captains, and some of the hands, with a small boat, went on shore,
while our tobacco boats glided gently along. When we landed, we
separated in squads, and visited the old deserted ramparts, which
appeared quite fresh. It was in the afternoon, just after a refreshing
shower. Those first arriving at the intrenchment, espied a fresh
moccasin track. We all looked at it, and then at each other, and,
without uttering a word, all faced about, and ran as fast as possible
for the little boat. Some hit its locality, while others struck the
river too high up, and others, too low.
Those of us who missed our way concluded, in our fright, that the
Indians had cut us off; and no one had thought to take his rifle but
me, and I feared that I should be the first to fall. After we were all
safe on one of the tobacco boats, we recovered our speech, and each
one told how he felt, and what he thought, during our flight to the
boats. This locality of Fort Massac, we understood, was the direct way
from the Ohio, in that country, to St. Louis, and probably the track
we saw was that of some lonely Indian; and, judging from its
freshness, the one who made it was as much frightened from our
numbers as we were at our unexpected discovery.
I will note a little circumstance that occurred during our passage
down the Ohio. One day, I was ahead of the fleet, when one of the
boats passed by suddenly, when we observed by the woods that we were
standing still--evidently aground, or fast on something below the
surface. I gave notice to the boats behind to come on, and take
position between my boat and shore, hoping, by this means, to raise a
temporary swell in the river, and, by fastening a rope to my boat, and
extending along beside the others, and making the other end fast to a
tree on shore, be enabled to get loose.
While thus engaged, we heard a whistle, like that of a quail. Some
observed that quail never kept in the woods, and we felt some fear
that it might be Indians; but we continued our efforts at the rope,
and the boat was soon so far moved that we discovered that we were
fast upon a planter--that is, the body of a tree firmly embedded in
the river bottom. At last, the men could partly stand upon it, and,
with a hand-saw, so weakened it that it broke off, and we were
released.
Another dangerous obstruction is a tree becoming undermined and
falling into the river, and the roots fastening themselves in the
muddy bottom, while, by the constant action of the current, the limbs
wear off, and the body keeps sawing up and down with great force,
rising frequently several feet above the water, and then sinking as
much below. These are called "sawyers," and often cause accidents to
unsuspecting navigators.
When we arrived at the mouth of the Ohio, we stopped. I fastened my
boat to trees, and the other boats did likewise. We kept watch, with
an ax in hand, to cut the fastenings in case of a surprise by Indians.
Here were marks of buffalo having rested. Where the waters of the
Mississippi and Ohio mingle, they look like putting dirty soap-suds
and pure water together. So we filled all our vessels that were
water-tight, for fear we might suffer for want of good water on our
voyage. But we found out, afterward, that the Mississippi was very
good water, when filtered.
After we got all arranged, the second day after we embarked, the
captains agreed that we would, in rotation, dine together, which
rendered our journey more pleasant. Mr. Bayard's and my boat were
frequently fastened together while descending the Ohio, but on the
Mississippi, from the turbulence of the stream, it was not possible to
do so. The first day that we entered the Mississippi, we discharged
all our rifles and pistols, as we were then out of danger from the
hostile Indians. In the afternoon, we had a strong wind ahead, which
made a heavy sea, accompanied with thunder and lightning. The waves
ran so high that we felt in danger of foundering. The forward boat
pulled hard for shore, which we all followed.
Presently, we saw an Indian canoe pulling for that boat. I asked my
North-western man what that meant. He looked wild, but did not know
what to make of it. I directed the men to pull away, and I would keep
an eye upon the suspicious visitors, and at the same time load our
rifles and pistols again. Reaching the advanced boat, the Indians were
kindly received, and no fighting; and, instead of hostile
demonstrations, they lent a hand in rowing.
After much hard work, we at length all effected a landing in safety.
We then prepared for dinner. It so happened that it was my turn to
receive the captains at dinner. Having a large piece of fresh
beef--enough and to spare, I invited three of our copper-faces to dine
with us. Dinner over, Captain Gano set the example of _pitching the
fork_ into the beef, as we used, in our school days, to pitch the fork
into the ground. So the Indians, one after the other, imitated the
captain, and very dextrously pitched their forks also into the beef,
thinking, probably, that it was a white man's ceremony that should be
observed.
After dinner, at the conclusion of the pitching incident, I mixed some
whisky and water in the only glass I had, and handed it to one of the
captains; and then repeating it, filling the tumbler equally alike in
quantity, handed it in succession to the others. When I came to the
Indians, not knowing their relative rank, I happened to present the
glass to the lowest in order, as I discovered by his declining it; but
when I came to the leader, he took the offering, and reaching out his
hand to me in a genteel and graceful manner, shook mine heartily; and
then repeated the cordial shake with each of the others, not omitting
his own people, and then drank our healths as politely, I imagine, as
Lord Chesterfield could have done. The other Indians were similarly
treated, and, in turn, as gracefully acknowledged the compliment. They
all appeared much pleased with their reception.
This ceremony over, our men asked leave to visit the opposite side of
the river, where these Indians had a large encampment. This granted,
they all went to get their rifles. The Indians seemed to understand
etiquette and politeness, and objected to the men going armed. But,
instead of speaking to the men, they addressed the captains of the
boats, saying: "We have no objections to your men going among our
people, if they don't take their rifles. We came among you as friends,
bringing no arms along." We, of course, told our men to leave their
rifles behind. They did so. Returning, they reported that there were a
good many Indians there. By some means, some of our men must have let
the Indians have _la tafia_--a cheap variety of rum distilled from
molasses. At all events, they became very much intoxicated, "and we,"
said the visitors, "were very apprehensive of difficulty; but a squaw
told us that the Indians could not fight, as she had secreted all
their knives, and we were very much relieved when morning appeared, so
we could bid good-by to our new acquaintances."
The next day we arrived at _L'Anse a la Graisse_, which place, or
adjoining it, bears the name of New Madrid, which is the American part
of the little village settled under the auspices of Colonel George
Morgan. Uncle Forman wrote me by all means to call at this Spanish
post, as he had left my name with the genteel commandant there, who
would expect to see me. In the morning, after breakfast, we all
prepared our toilets preparatory to paying our respects to the officer
of the place. The captains did me the honor of making me the foreman
of the party, as my name would be familiar to the commandant. I regret
that I have forgotten his name.[15] We made our call at as early an
hour as we could, so that we might pursue our voyage without any
unnecessary waste of time.
[15] In July, 1789, less than a year before, Lieutenant Pierre
Foucher, with four officers and thirty soldiers, had been sent
from New Orleans to establish a post at this place, as stated in
_Gayarre's Louisiana_, 1854, p. 268. It is generally asserted
that this settlement was commenced as early as 1780; but the
Spanish census of Louisiana, both in 1785 and 1788, make no
mention of the place.