daybreak, told us that about seven miles farther we should meet with a
breakfast much better than the last supper we had. He refused any
pecuniary compensation, but accepted from me a knife. So we again
started. My dear boy appeared very weak at first, but soon recovered,
and our stout companion, whom I shall call S., evidently showed symptoms
of lassitude. On arriving at the cabin of a lazy man, blessed with an
industrious wife and six healthy children, all of whom labored for his
support, we were welcomed by the woman, whose motions and language
indicated her right to belong to a much higher class. Better breakfast I
never ate: the bread was made of new corn, ground on a tin grater by the
beautiful hands of our blue-eyed hostess; the chickens had been prepared
by one of her lovely daughters; some good coffee was added, and my son
had fresh milk. The good woman, who now held a babe to her bosom, seemed
pleased to see how heartily we all ate; the children went to work, and
the lazy husband went to the door to smoke a corn-cob pipe. A dollar was
put into the ruddy hand of the chubby urchin, and we bade its mother
farewell. Again we trudged along the beach, but after a while betook
ourselves to the woods. My son became faint. Dear boy! never can I
forget how he lay exhausted on a log, large tears rolling down his
cheeks. I bathed his temples, spoke soothingly to him, and chancing to
see a fine Turkey Cock run close by, directed his attention to it, when,
as if suddenly refreshed, he got up and ran a few yards towards the
bird. From that moment he seemed to acquire new vigor, and at length we
reached Wilcox's, where we stopped for the night. We were reluctantly
received at the house, and had little attention paid to us, but we had a
meal and went to bed.
The sun rose in all its splendor, and the Ohio reflected its ruddy
beams. A finer view of that river can scarcely be obtained than that
from the house which we were leaving. Two miles through intricate woods
brought us to Belgrade, and having passed Fort Massacre, we halted and
took breakfast. S. gave us to understand that the want of roads made
travelling very unpleasant; he was not, he added, in the habit of
"skulking through the bushes, or tramping over stony bars in the full
sunshine;" but how else he had travelled was not explained. Mr. Rose
kept up about as well as Victor, and I now led the way. Towards sunset
we reached the shores of the river, opposite the mouth of the
Cumberland. On a hill, the property of a Major B., we found a house, and
a solitary woman, wretchedly poor, but very kind. She assured us that if
we could not cross the river, she would give us food and shelter for the
night, but said that, as the moon was up, she could get us put over when
her skiff came back. Hungry and fatigued, we laid us down on the brown
grass, waiting either a scanty meal or the skiff that was to convey us
across the river. I had already grated the corn for our supper, run down
the chickens, and made a fire, when a cry of "Boat coming!" roused us
all. We crossed half of the Ohio, walked over Cumberland Isle, and after
a short ferry found ourselves in Kentucky, the native land of my beloved
sons. I was now within a few miles of the spot where, some years before,
I had a horse killed under me by lightning.
It is unnecessary to detain you with a long narrative, and state every
occurrence till we reached the banks of Green River. We had left Trinity
at twelve o'clock of the 15th of October, and on the morning of the 18th
four travellers, descending a hill, were admiring the reflection of the
sun's rays on the forest-margined horizon. The frost, which lay thick on
the ground and the fences, glittered in the sheen, and dissolved away;
all nature seemed beautiful in its calm repose; but the pleasure which I
felt in gazing on the scene was damped by the fatigue of my son, who now
limped like a lamed Turkey, although, as the rest of the party were not
much better off, he smiled, straightened himself, and strove to keep up
with us. Poor S. was panting many yards behind, and was talking of
purchasing a horse. We had now, however, a tolerably good road, and in
the evening got to a house, where I inquired if we could have a supper
and beds. When I came out, Victor was asleep on the grass, Mr. Rose
looking at his sore toes, and S. just finishing a jug of monongahela.
Here we resolved that, instead of going by Henderson, we should take a
cut across to the right, and make direct for Smith's Ferry, by way of
Highland Lick Creek.
Next day we trudged along, but nothing very remarkable occurred
excepting that we saw a fine black Wolf, quite tame and gentle, the
owner of which refused a hundred dollars for it. Mr. Rose, who was an
engineer, and a man of taste, amused us with his flageolet, and
frequently spoke of his wife, his children, and his fireside, which
increased my good opinion of him. At an orchard we filled our pockets
with October peaches, and when we came to Trade Water River we found it
quite low. The acorns were already drifted on its shallows, and the Wood
Ducks were running about picking them up. Passing a flat bottom, we saw
a large Buffalo Lick. Where now are the bulls which erst scraped its
earth away, bellowing forth their love or their anger?
Good Mr. Rose's feet became sorer and sorer each succeeding day; Mr. S.
at length nearly gave up; my son had grown brisker. The 20th was cloudy,
and we dreaded rain, as we knew the country to be flat and clayey. In
Union County, we came to a large opening, and found the house of a
justice, who led us kindly to the main road, and accompanied us for a
mile, giving us excellent descriptions of brooks, woods, and barrens;
notwithstanding which we should have been much puzzled, had not a
neighbor on horseback engaged to show us the way. The rain now fell in
torrents and rendered us very uncomfortable, but at length we reached
Highland Lick, where we stumbled on a cabin, the door of which we thrust
open, overturning a chair that had been placed behind it. On a dirty bed
lay a man, a table with a journal or perhaps a ledger before him, a
small cask in a corner near him, a brass pistol on a nail over his head,
and a long Spanish dagger by his side. He rose and asked what was
wanted. "The way to a better place, the road to Suggs's." "Follow the
road, and you'll get to his house in about five miles!" My party were
waiting for me, warming themselves by the fires of the salt-kettles. The
being I had seen was an overseer. By and by we crossed a creek; the
country was hilly, clayey, and slippery; Mr. S. was cursing, Rose limped
like a lame Duck, but Victor kept up like a veteran.
Another day, kind reader, and I shall for a while shut my journal. The
morning of the 21st was beautiful; we had slept comfortably at Suggs's,
and we soon found ourselves on pleasant barrens, with an agreeable road.
Rose and S. were so nearly knocked up that they proposed to us to go on
without them. We halted and talked a few minutes on the subject, when
our companions stated their resolution to proceed at a slower pace. So
we bade them adieu. I asked my son how he felt; he laughed and quickened
his steps; and in a short time our former associates were left out of
sight. In about two hours we were seated in the Green River Ferry-boat,
with our legs hanging in the water. At Smith's Ferry this stream looks
like a deep lake; and the thick cane on its banks, the large overhanging
willows, and its dark, green waters, never fail to form a fine picture,
more especially in the calm of an autumnal evening. Mr. Smith gave us a
good supper, sparkling cider, and a comfortable bed. It was arranged
that he should drive us to Louisville in his dearborn; and so ended our
walk of two hundred and fifty miles. Should you wish to accompany us
during the remainder of our journey I have only to refer you to the
article "Hospitality in the Woods."
HOSPITALITY IN THE WOODS
Hospitality is a virtue the exercise of which, although always agreeable
to the stranger, is not always duly appreciated. The traveller who has
acquired celebrity is not unfrequently received with a species of
hospitality which is much alloyed by the obvious attention of the host
to his own interest; and the favor conferred upon the stranger must have
less weight when it comes mingled with almost interminable questions as
to his perilous adventures. Another receives hospitality at the hands of
persons who, possessed of all the comforts of life, receive the way-worn
wanderer with pomposity, lead him from one part of their spacious
mansion to another, and bidding him good-night, leave him to amuse
himself in his solitary apartment, because he is thought unfit to be
presented to a party of friends. A third stumbles on a congenial spirit,
who receives him with open arms, offers him servants, horses, perhaps
even his purse, to enable him to pursue his journey, and parts from him
with regret. In all these cases the traveller feels more or less under
obligation, and is accordingly grateful. But, kind reader, the
hospitality received from the inhabitant of the forest, who can offer
only the shelter of his humble roof and the refreshment of his homely
fare, remains more deeply impressed on the memory of the bewildered
traveller than any other. This kind of hospitality I have myself
frequently experienced in our woods, and now proceed to relate an
instance of it.
I had walked several hundred miles, accompanied by my son, then a
stripling, and, coming upon a clear stream, observed a house on the
opposite shore. We crossed in a canoe, and finding that we had arrived
at a tavern, determined upon spending the night there. As we were both
greatly fatigued, I made an arrangement with our host to be conveyed in
a light Jersey wagon a distance of a hundred miles, the period of our
departure to be determined by the rising of the moon. Fair Cynthia, with
her shorn beams, peeped over the forest about two hours before dawn, and
our conductor, provided with a long twig of hickory, took his station in
the fore-part of the wagon. Off we went at a round trot, dancing in the
cart like peas in a sieve. The road, which was just wide enough to allow
us to pass, was full of deep ruts, and covered here and there with
trunks and stumps, over all which we were hurried. Our conductor, Mr.
Flint, the landlord of the tavern, boasting of his perfect knowledge of
the country, undertook to drive us by a short cut, and we willingly
confided ourselves to his management. So we jogged along, now and then
deviating to double the fallen timber. Day commenced with promise of
fine weather, but several nights of white frost having occurred, a
change was expected. To our sorrow, the change took place long before we
got to the road again. The rain fell in torrents; the thunder bellowed;
the lightning blazed. It was now evening, but the storm had brought
perfect night, black and dismal. Our cart had no cover. Cold and wet, we
sat silent and melancholy, with no better expectation than that of
passing the night under the little shelter the cart could afford us.
To stop was considered worse than to proceed. So we gave the reins to
the horses, with some faint hope that they would drag us out of our
forlorn state. Of a sudden the steeds altered their course, and soon
after we perceived the glimmer of a faint light in the distance, and
almost at the same moment heard the barking of dogs. Our horses stopped
by a high fence and fell a-neighing, while I hallooed at such a rate
that an answer was speedily obtained. The next moment a flaming pine
torch crossed the gloom, and advanced to the spot where we stood. The
negro boy who bore it, without waiting to question us, enjoined us to
follow the fence, and said that Master had sent him to show the
strangers to the house. We proceeded, much relieved, and soon reached
the gate of a little yard, in which a small cabin was perceived.
A tall, fine-looking young man stood in the open door, and desired us
get out of the cart and walk in. We did so, when the following
conversation took place. "A bad night this, strangers; how came you to
be along the fence? You certainly must have lost your way, for there is
no public road within twenty miles." "Ay," answered Mr. Flint, "sure
enough we lost our way; but, thank God! we have got to a house; and
thank _you_ for your reception." "Reception!" replied the woodsman; "no
very great thing after all; you are all here safe, and that's enough.
Eliza," turning to his wife, "see about some victuals for the strangers,
and you, Jupiter," addressing the negro lad, "bring some wood and mend
the fire. Eliza, call the boys up, and treat the strangers the best way
you can. Come, gentlemen, pull off your wet clothes, and draw to the
fire. Eliza, bring some socks and a shirt or two."
For my part, kind reader, knowing my countrymen as I do, I was not much
struck at all this; but my son, who had scarcely reached the age of
thirteen, drew near to me, and observed how pleasant it was to have met
with such good people. Mr. Flint bore a hand in getting his horses put
under a shed. The young wife was already stirring with so much
liveliness that to have doubted for a moment that all she did was a
pleasure to her would have been impossible. Two negro lads made their
appearance, looked at us for a moment, and going out, called the dogs.
Soon after the cries of the poultry informed us that good cheer was at
hand. Jupiter brought more wood, the blaze of which illumined the
cottage. Mr. Flint and our host returned, and we already began to feel
the comforts of hospitality. The woodsman remarked that it was a pity we
had not chanced to come that day three weeks; "for," said he, "it was
our wedding-day, and father gave us a good house-warming, and you might
have fared better; but, however, if you can eat bacon and eggs, and a
broiled chicken, you shall have that. I have no whiskey in the house,
but father has some capital cider, and I'll go over and bring a keg of
it." I asked how far off his father lived. "Only three miles, sir, and
I'll be back before Eliza has cooked your supper." Off he went
accordingly, and the next moment the galloping of his horse was heard.
The rain fell in torrents, and now I also became struck with the
kindness of our host.
To all appearance the united ages of the pair under whose roof we had
found shelter did not exceed two score. Their means seemed barely
sufficient to render them comfortable, but the generosity of their young
hearts had no limits. The cabin was new. The logs of which it was formed
were all of the tulip-tree, and were nicely pared. Every part was
beautifully clean. Even the coarse slabs of wood that formed the floor
looked as if newly washed and dried. Sundry gowns and petticoats of
substantial homespun hung from the logs that formed one of the sides of
the cabin, while the other was covered with articles of male attire. A
large spinning-wheel, with rolls of wool and cotton, occupied one
corner. In another was a small cupboard, containing the little stock of
new dishes, cups, plates, and tin pans. The table was small also, but
quite new, and as bright as polished walnut could be. The only bed that
I saw was of domestic manufacture, and the counterpane proved how expert
the young wife was at spinning and weaving. A fine rifle ornamented the
chimney-piece. The fireplace was of such dimensions that it looked as if
it had been purposely constructed for holding the numerous progeny
expected to result from the happy union.
The black boy was engaged in grinding some coffee. Bread was prepared by
the fair hands of the bride, and placed on a flat board in front of the
fire. The bacon and eggs already murmured and spluttered in the
frying-pan, and a pair of chickens puffed and swelled on a gridiron over
the embers, in front of the hearth. The cloth was laid, and everything
arranged, when the clattering of hoofs announced the return of the
husband. In he came, bearing a two-gallon keg of cider. His eyes
sparkled with pleasure as he said, "Only think, Eliza; father wanted to
rob us of the strangers, and was for coming here to ask them to his own
house, just as if we could not give them enough ourselves; but here's
the drink. Come, gentlemen, sit down and help yourselves." We did so,
and I, to enjoy the repast, took a chair of the husband's making, in
preference to one of those called _Windsor_, of which there were six in
the cabin. This chair was bottomed with a piece of Deer's skin tightly
stretched, and afforded a very comfortable seat.
The wife now resumed her spinning, and the husband filled a jug with the
sparkling cider, and, seated by the blazing fire, was drying his
clothes. The happiness he enjoyed beamed from his eye, as at my request
he proceeded to give us an account of his affairs and prospects, which
he did in the following words: "I shall be twenty-two next
Christmas-day," said our host. "My father came from Virginia when young,
and settled on the large tract of land where he yet lives, and where
with hard working he has done well. There were nine children of us. Most
of them are married and settled in the neighborhood. The old man has
divided his lands among some of us, and bought others for the rest. The
land where I am he gave me two years ago, and a finer piece is not
easily to be found. I have cleared a couple of fields, and planted an
orchard. Father gave me a stock of cattle, some hogs, and four horses,
with two negro boys. I camped here for most of the time when clearing
and planting; and when about to marry the young woman you see at the
wheel, father helped me in raising this hut. My wife, as luck would have
it, had a negro also, and we have begun the world as well off as most
folks, and, the Lord willing, may--But, gentlemen, you don't eat; do
help yourselves. Eliza, maybe the strangers would like some milk." The
wife stopped her work, and kindly asked if we preferred sweet or sour
milk; for you must know, reader, that sour milk is by some of our
farmers considered a treat. Both sorts were produced, but, for my part,
I chose to stick to the cider.
Supper over, we all neared the fire, and engaged in conversation. At
length our kind host addressed his wife as follows: "Eliza, the
gentlemen would like to lie down, I guess. What sort of bed can you fix
for them?" Eliza looked up with a smile, and said: "Why, Willy, we will
divide the bedding, and arrange half on the floor, on which we can sleep
very well, and the gentlemen will have the best we can spare them." To
this arrangement I immediately objected, and proposed lying on a blanket
by the fire; but neither Willy nor Eliza would listen. So they arranged
a part of their bedding on the floor, on which, after some debate, we at
length settled. The negroes were sent to their own cabin, the young
couple went to bed, and Mr. Flint lulled us all asleep with a long story
intended to show us how passing strange it was that he should have lost
his way.
"Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," and so forth. But Aurora
soon turned her off. Mr. Speed, our host, rose, went to the door, and
returning assured us that the weather was too bad for us to attempt
proceeding. I really believe he was heartily glad of it; but anxious to
continue our journey, I desired Mr. Flint to see about his horses. Eliza
by this time was up too, and I observed her whispering to her husband,
when he immediately said aloud, "To be sure, the gentlemen will eat
breakfast before they go, and I will show them the way to the road."
Excuses were of no avail. Breakfast was prepared and eaten. The weather
brightened a little, and by nine we were under way. Willy, on horseback,
headed us. In a few hours our cart arrived at a road, by following which
we at length got to the main one, and parted from our woodsman with the
greater regret that he would accept nothing from any of us. On the
contrary, telling Mr. Flint, with a smile, that he hoped he might some
time again follow the longest track for a short cut, he bade us adieu,
and trotted back to his fair Eliza and his happy home.
NIAGARA
After wandering on some of our great lakes for many months, I bent my
course towards the celebrated Falls of Niagara, being desirous of taking
a sketch of them. This was not my first visit to them, and I hoped it
should not be the last.
Artists (I know not if I can be called one) too often imagine that what
they produce must be excellent, and with that foolish idea go on
spoiling much paper and canvas, when their time might have been better
employed in a different manner. But, digressions aside, I directed my
steps towards the Falls of Niagara, with the view of representing them
on paper, for the amusement of my family.
Returning as I then was from a tedious journey, and possessing little
more than some drawings of rare birds and plants, I reached the tavern
at Niagara Falls in such plight as might have deterred many an
individual from obtruding himself upon a circle of well-clad and perhaps
well-bred society. Months had passed since the last of my linen had been
taken from my body, and used to clean that useful companion, my gun. I
was in fact covered just like one of the poorer class of Indians, and
was rendered even more disagreeable to the eye of civilized man by not
having, like them, plucked my beard, or trimmed my hair in any way. Had
Hogarth been living, and there when I arrived, he could not have found a
fitter subject for a Robinson Crusoe. My beard covered my neck in front,
my hair fell much lower at my back, the leather dress which I wore had
for months stood in need of repair, a large knife hung at my side, a
rusty tin-box containing my drawings and colors, and wrapped up in a
worn-out blanket that had served me for a bed, was buckled to my
shoulders. To every one I must have seemed immersed in the depths of
poverty, perhaps of despair. Nevertheless, as I cared little about my
appearance during those happy rambles, I pushed into the sitting-room,
unstrapped my little burden, and asked how soon breakfast would be
ready.
In America, no person is ever refused entrance to the inns, at least far
from cities. We know too well how many poor creatures are forced to make
their way from other countries in search of employment or to seek
uncultivated land, and we are ever ready to let them have what they may
call for. No one knew who I was, and the landlord, looking at me with an
eye of close scrutiny, answered that breakfast would be on the table as
soon as the company should come down from their rooms. I approached this
important personage, told him of my avocations, and convinced him that
he might feel safe as to remuneration. From this moment I was, with him
at least, on equal footing with every other person in his house. He
talked a good deal of the many artists who had visited the Falls that
season, from different parts, and offered to assist me by giving such
accommodations as I might require to finish the drawings I had in
contemplation. He left me, and as I looked about the room I saw several
views of the Falls, by which I was so disgusted that I suddenly came to
my better senses. "What!" thought I, "have I come here to mimic nature
in her grandest enterprise, and add _my_ caricature of one of the
wonders of the world to those which I here see? No; I give up the vain
attempt. I shall look on these mighty cataracts and imprint them, where
alone they can be represented--on my mind!"
Had I taken a view, I might as well have given you what might be termed
a regular account of the form, the height, the tremendous roar of these
Falls; might have spoken of people perilling their lives by going
between the rock and the sheet of water, calculated the density of the
atmosphere in that strange position, related wondrous tales of Indians
and their canoes having been precipitated the whole depth--might have
told of the narrow, rapid, and rockbound river that leads the waters of
the Erie into those of Ontario, remarking _en passant_ the Devil's Hole
and sundry other places or objects. But, supposing you had been there,
my description would prove useless, and quite as puny as my intended
view would have been for my family; and should you not have seen them,
and are fond of contemplating the more magnificent of the Creator's
works, go to Niagara, reader; for all the pictures you may see, all the
descriptions you may read, of these mighty Falls, can only produce in
your mind the faint glimmer of a glow-worm compared with the
overpowering glory of the meridian sun.
I breakfasted amid a crowd of strangers, who gazed and laughed at me,
paid my bill, rambled about and admired the Falls for a while, saw
several young gentlemen _sketching on cards_ the mighty mass of foaming
waters, and walked to Buffalo, where I purchased new apparel and sheared
my beard. I then enjoyed civilized life as much as, a month before, I
had enjoyed the wildest solitudes and the darkest recesses of mountain
and forest.
MEADVILLE