THREE DAYS ON THE OHIO RIVER. THREE DAYS ON THE OHIO RIVER.
THE END.
THREE DAYS ON THE OHIO RIVER.
By FATHER WILLIAM.
THREE DAYS ON THE OHIO RIVER.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
I was once in the city of Cincinnati, and wished to go to Pittsburg by way of the river. Not that this was the nearest way, or the swiftest, or the cheapest; but I desired very much to see the country through which the river runs: for, as I had read in the histories of the United States, and particularly in the accounts of our wars with the Indians, much about the Ohio River, with many of its towns and villages, my curiosity was very active; and I was determined to behold it.
It was Monday, the 29th of March, and a most lovely morning, too, when I went on board the steamboat Pittsburg, bound for the city of the same name. I was careful to set out early in the week, so as, if possible, to reach Pittsburg before Sunday.
CHAPTER II.
THE STEAMBOAT.
Were you ever on board a Western river steamboat? As some of you may not have had the opportunity, I will give you a short account of one.
Some of these boats are very large indeed. They would seem to you like a little world of themselves.
The Pittsburg is about two hundred and eighty feet in length by sixty in breadth. This boat, if placed in a field, would cover nearly half an acre of land.
These boats are high as well as long. Besides the hold, as they call it—a kind of cellar into which they stow away much of their heavy freight—they have two or three other stories or decks for freight and passengers.
The one next above the hold is where they keep their cattle and horses and hogs, if they have any on board; also their common freight. Here, too, in some instances, they have at one end a clumsy kind of cabin called the forecastle, or steerage.
This forecastle is occupied, for the most part, by the poorer passengers, especially emigrants. They have berths or shelves to recline on, but no bed-clothing; and their accommodations are generally very inferior.
On the next floor above are the cabins for the passengers in general. They are usually in two great—rather long—rooms, one at each end. One of them is used at meals as the dining-room. The berths or sleeping places are at their sides. They, too, are mere broad shelves, but they have bed-clothing and curtains.
On the upper deck the cabins are still more ample, as well as better furnished. There, instead of shelves at the sides, there are small rooms connected with the shelves, called state-rooms.
Were it not that the cabins on those upper decks are unusually long in proportion to their breadth, and did you not feel the motion of the boat while occupying them, the traveler would hardly know that he was not in a large and comfortable hotel or dwelling-house.
There is still another deck or promenade above all these, but passengers are not usually allowed to occupy it. The helmsman of the boat is stationed here, and a crowd of people around him might obstruct his view.
I have thus described five stories or rows; but there is a difference in boats in this particular, even in the large ones. Some have only four stories—that is, three besides the hold. In the latter case, the lower or freight deck is at one end of the boat, formed into a cabin which communicates only by means of a stairway with the next deck above it.
The best cabins are carpeted as nicely as our best parlors, and the furniture is often as costly. The state-rooms are also well furnished, and sometimes well ventilated. The beds are narrow. But the beds on board the Pittsburg, though narrow, were quite comfortable. The passenger reclines on a mattress, which rests on coils of elastic wire, like some of our sofas and carriage seats; and the beds are almost as soft as feather beds.
The rules and regulations in many steamboats are exceedingly strict. In some instances they are printed and hung up at the sides of the cabins and elsewhere, in conspicuous places. They relate to the treatment of furniture, the hours of rising, meals, retiring to rest, &c.
No person, for example, is allowed to let his chair, while sitting, rest against the wall, or to put his feet on the cushions of the chairs or sofas. No lights are permitted in the state-rooms—cases of severe sickness or other extremity alone excepted.
The female passengers have every reasonable convenience for washing, dressing, &c., in their state-rooms. For the rest of the passengers there is a common washroom, with which the barber's room is also sometimes connected.
Thus you see that the art and ingenuity of man have converted these great prisons on the water into so many magnificent hotels. Some inconveniences and even privations there are, and must be. As a general rule, the traveler may be very comfortable in them, and, if he chooses, quite self-indulgent.
This word self-indulgent refers to the articles of food on the tables. These are just what is to be expected when it is considered what the far greater part of our travelers place their chief happiness in—what they most think of and talk of, at least when they have little else to do.
In this respect, the steamboat is about on a par with the hotel. If there be any difference, it seems to me to consist in this: that the dishes at the table on board the steamboat are more complicated and more costly, and at the same time more unhealthy, than those of the hotel.
But enough of description, for the present. We will now return to the narration of my adventures.
CHAPTER III.
BEGINNING THE VOYAGE.
The distance from Cincinnati to Pittsburg, following the course of the river, is four hundred and seventy-seven miles; the distance by land being, as I suppose, on the shortest road, about three hundred and fifty.
The Ohio River is very crooked. It turns to nearly every point of the compass. In one instance, in going up it, for example, I well remember that after going for some time in a northerly and then in a north-westerly direction, we suddenly turned to the west, as if we were going back again to Cincinnati.
The hour at which the steamer was to sail, according to the advertisement in the papers, was ten o'clock. Most of the passengers were on board before this time. There was, however, a large amount of freight to come on board afterward. There was also delay from another and very different cause.
Just opposite to Cincinnati, on the Kentucky side, are the villages of Newport and Covington. In one of the houses, in one of these places, a thief had entered, during the night, and taken away considerable money and other property. The officers of justice were in pursuit of him.
They came to the Pittsburg, and asked permission to search that. This being granted, they went in company with one of the officers, and made diligent search everywhere, especially among the emigrants. The thief, however, was not found, and the search was discontinued.
At about twelve o'clock we were under weigh, and slowly proceeding up the river, which is here, as I judged, about a quarter of a mile wide, and pretty deep. Every passenger, or nearly every one, was now on deck enjoying the prospect.
The Pittsburg sailed about eight or ten miles an hour. We were soon out of sight of Cincinnati. The last portion of it which we saw was Fulton—which is the name given to a long arm of the city, extending several miles along in a north-eastern direction.
I was almost sorry to leave Cincinnati, for it is, in many respects, a beautiful place. The central or business part is not peculiarly handsome, I admit; but the Walnut Hills, Mount Auburn, and other places, forming a semicircle, and inclosing it on all sides except on the south-east and south, are, for the beauties of nature and art, almost unrivaled.
CHAPTER IV.
SAILING UP THE RIVER.
As you proceed up the river, your attention is arrested, from time to time, by sm
all villages. These are more numerous on the Ohio side than on that of Kentucky. Whether this is owing to the effects of slavery, or to other reasons, I am not informed. One thing is certain—that nature is not at fault in the construction of the country; for never in my life have I seen a prettier variety of hills and dales than on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River.
The water of the river was high, and the boat could stop at nearly every considerable village. The principal places we passed, for the first sixty miles, were Columbia, Point Pleasant, Neville, Higginsport, Ripley, and Aberdeen, in Ohio; and Mechanicsburg, Belmont, Augusta, and Charleston, in Kentucky.
Augusta, in Kentucky, is a considerable village, and has one or two important schools. It has also a few antiquities. So full is the earth of decaying human bones, that they can hardly dig a hole for a post without finding some of them.
The water of the Ohio at this season has a turbid or milky appearance. It is used, on board the steamboats, for all purposes, even for drinking. To me it was disagreeable; but to some of the passengers it was more than disagreeable to their taste, for it deranged their stomachs. This result is probably owing to the lime it contains.
Most of the passengers were on deck during the greater part of the day, viewing the country, which I have already told you was beautiful. The villages, in general, had a sooty appearance, caused by coal smoke.
CHAPTER V.
MAYSVILLE.
Before night we came to Maysville, in Kentucky. This is quite a large village, with some appearance of thrift and prosperity.
Here we stopped for two hours or more—partly to take in one hundred and twenty head of cattle. Our number of passengers was not large—less, I believe, than one hundred—and probably did not much more than pay expenses, especially when they kept so extravagant a table. The fare to Pittsburg was $7. True, there was on board a large amount of freight of various kinds, which perhaps made up the deficiency.
But as the grave, according to Solomon, is never satisfied—never says enough—so the men who are engaged in carrying passengers and freight seem never satisfied as long as they can carry any more.
Those who drive large numbers of cattle from Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, &c., to New-York and the Eastern States, find it very tedious to drive them all the way by land, as well as very expensive; so they sometimes make a bargain with the superintendents of railroads and the captains of steamboats to have them transported.
The price paid for carrying one hundred and twenty cattle from Maysville to Pittsburg—above four hundred miles by water—was $4 50 each; or, in the whole, $540.
The cattle were to be brought upon the lower deck, next to the hold, and tied with short ropes to the posts and other timbers of the boat. But how were they to be got on board? I will describe the method.
The steamboat was brought close to the wharf, from which a broad platform, made of strong planks, was thrown across to the deck of the boat, forming a bridge. Still, however, the animals were afraid.
The difficulty was surmounted in the following manner: One old ox was procured who had been trained for the purpose, and was not at all afraid. A rope was attached to his horns, and he was slowly led on board, while the others, with a little urging, followed him. But as they could not manage more than six or eight at a time, the trained ox had to be led on board, and brought back again a great many times before the drove were fairly in their places.
One poor bullock made them a deal of trouble, after he was taken on board. Uneasy and restless, he somehow or other got loose, leaped overboard, and swam down the river about a mile, before a company in the long-boat could reach and secure him, and drive him back.
While this embarkation of the cattle was going on, I went on shore and took a survey of the village. It is the most important place in this part of Kentucky, containing, as I judged, some four or five thousand inhabitants, and having considerable trade, with some manufactures.
This place was formerly called by the characteristic name of Limestone, and was one of the first-settled places in the state. The famous Daniel Boone at one time resided here; and an old shattered warehouse is shown to travelers, which, it is said, he built.
CHAPTER VI.
IN THE CABIN.
It was nearly night when we left Maysville, and most of the passengers were glad to go below, and remain there. The hour for rest was also approaching: of this also we were glad; for, to most of us, it had been a very fatiguing day.
There was, however, an interval of two or three hours between "tea" and bedtime; and the question was, how this time should be employed? I say this was the question; but I mean rather that it should have been: for I do not suppose, on further reflection, that one person in ten of those who were on board was in the habit of asking himself any such question—whether on land or on water, at home or abroad. They took "no note of time, but by its loss." And they who do not live by system or rule elsewhere, will not be likely to do so while on board a steamboat.
In truth, it is very difficult for those who are the most careful, economical, and systematic in regard to their time, to keep everything straight while traveling, especially while traveling at the rapid rate of modern times, and with such crowds. It costs even the most conscientious—those who fear God the most—quite a struggle.
Do you ask what the fear of God has to do with matters of this kind?—and whether we have time to think closely and continuously about the right and wrong of everything, on board a steamboat?
My reply is, that some persons do it, in spite of the difficulties. There were a few on board the Pittsburg who did it, although their number, as I have already intimated, was very few.
I have said that some persons try to have a conscience void of offense toward God and man, not only while at home, but when they travel abroad, whether in the steamboat, or in the railroad car: they believe that God sees them there as well as elsewhere: they believe that for every thought, word, and deed—alone or in company, at home or abroad—they must give account in the day of judgment: they believe that whether they eat or drink, or whatsoever they do, and whenever they do it, they are required to do all to the glory of God.
I saw one or two groups of passengers on board the Pittsburg, in one of the cabins where there was the most merriment of all kinds, as well as the most thoughtlessness on the part of many, who had their Bibles in their hands for a long time, during the progress of the evening, and who appeared to be reading and studying.
I know, full well, that all this may be done—sometimes is done—for mere effect. Some read the Bible that they may appear to be good. Some read it to keep down the upbraidings of their consciences. Some do it from mere habit. And some do it in the vain hope that somehow or other—they know not when or how, but at some time or other—a blessing will come out of it.
When I saw those persons reading the Bible on board the Pittsburg, I did not at once set them down as certainly and always religious; I did not set them down as persons who, if they were religious on occasions, or at stated times, carried out their religion into dayly and hourly practice: I mean I did not set them down as necessarily so, or such merely because they read the Bible.
But I will tell you what I did think of them then, and what I think of them still. I have no doubt that they were people who had good purposes, and who lived by system, and not at random or mere hap-hazard: I have no doubt that they were church-going people when at home: I doubt not at all that they were Sabbath-keeping people; and I have very little doubt that they prayed, at least sometimes.
CHAPTER VII.
THE FOUR INDIANS.
During the progress of the evening, and while at the dinner and supper table, I had opportunity to survey the crowd, and to recognize in it the representatives of many distinct and different nations.
Americans, the lineal descendants of the true European race, of course predominated. Among the subdivisions of this race were English, Scotch, Irish, and German.
Africans, too, were numerous; but were foun
d chiefly among the "hands" employed on board the steamboat. The waiters at table, the two stewards, the barber, the cooks,—from first to last, for there was almost an army of them,—were more or less of African origin. Some of them were jet black; but the far greater part were of commingled blood. Some were so light colored, that at first sight one would hardly recognize them as having ever belonged to the race of "Uncle Tom," or "Aunt Chloe."
Besides, there were with us four American Indians, of the Shawnee tribe. They were just from their home, among the upper branches of the Arkansas River, and were on their way to Washington, on business in behalf of their nation.
They were dressed in a full American costume, and two of them could converse in English very well. One of them—a young man—appeared to have no knowledge of any but his native dialect.
With one of the elder of these men I had some conversation myself. He answered my questions very readily and frankly, but seldom, in return, made any inquiries of me. Yet he was not destitute of curiosity. On several occasions I saw him looking with interest while mechanical and manufacturing operations were going on, both on board and on shore.
I found to my surprise that these Indians were not, even when at home, naked or half-naked savages, ignorant of the arts and decencies of life; but respectable farmers, more than half civilized, and some of them Christianized. They had cultivated fields and frame houses, with great numbers of horses, cattle, sheep, and hogs.
The younger of them even expressed a good deal of religious feeling, and said by an interpreter that he wished his nation read more in the New Testament and religious books. Another, who was a half-breed, and was older, appeared to be a professor of religion. One bad habit, so common among the whites, they had caught by contact: I mean that of smoking tobacco; and it is fortunate if they have been contaminated by us in nothing else.
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