University of Virginia Library

20. CHAPTER XX.

The ladies of Glenville, in addition to various other matters,
paid special attention in the winter to needle-work:
and that was bestowed on gowns, coats, overalls, inexpressibles,
and in short, on the whole tribe of unmentionables;
and also on various tasteful and fancy articles. In the
kitchen was a loom, not for laces, but for measuring out,
yard after yard of tow-linen and Kentucky jeans; and on
this piano forte our ladies played many a merry tune, the
burden of which was “our days are swifter than a weaver's
shuttle;” which yet proved that a short span is rendered
pleasant by a swift shuttle. Indeed, in our circumstances,
the use of the treadles was more important than the use of
the pedals.

Our ladies this winter spent much time in reading: and,
not a little in longing after the flesh-pots of Egypt! And
yet there was much in the wild and rough wilderness;—
much in the men and women of the woods, so in contrast
with the culture of the city, that when the novelty passed,
and we had time to reflect that in our day the neighbours
could never be like us, nor we like them—that we were
tolerated, rather than cherished—and were far away from
sympathy—it was then that we seemed to awake to a sad
and bitter remembrance of the past—yes, and that past in
no way, to some of us, ever to be restored, to be revisited!
In the far east were the graves of their fathers!—(the

graves of mine, I cannot find) for the Seymours were ancient,
and in their day men of substance and renown.
And Indians are not the only ones that love to linger among
the graves of their fathers: not the only wanderers that
see in vision the swelling mounds over their dead, and see,
with melting hearts and dimming eyes! Mournful world!
before we left the woods, graves of ours had consecrated
two lonely spots in the wilds, and our dust was comming-ling
with the dust of the red men: so that lonely now
amid the graves in the east, we here sigh and weep for
the graves in those western solitudes!

As for myself, this winter, I made the closet for Carlton's
study, and the one in Bishop Hilsbury's cabin; also two
skuttles for the loom, one too light however, the other, too
heavy: and I aided in putting in and taking out “a
piece,” becoming thus adept in the mysteries of woof
and warp, of hanks, reels and cuts. I mended likewise,
water sleds, hunted turkeys, missed killing two deer for
want of a rifle, played the flute, practised the fiddle, and ever
so many other things and what-nots. But my grand employment
was a review of all my college studies; and hence,
I was the very first man since the creation of the world
that read Greek in the New Purchase! And it was I that
first made the apostles talk out there in their own language!
that first made the primal woods resonant with

or thunder with Demosthenes! that first addressed the revereful
trees in the majestic words of Plato—words that Jupiter
himself would have used for the same purpose! aye, that
first taught those listening trees the names of the Hebrew
and Chaldaic alphabets, or made them roar like the sea with
the poluphlosboio thalasses! And, hence from the renown
of all this, I was finally made a trustee of the State College
at Woodville; which appointment afterwards brought
me into contact with some adventures, to be narrated in
their proper place. The appointment, however, was not
given till Mr. J. Glenville took his seat in our legislature
in 182—.

Our evenings were devoted to cracking nuts and jokes,
visiting uncle Tommy, and Bishop H., to planning, to
hearing adventures or reading aloud; but, as it was not possible
to have a centre-table, the grand family lamp was suspended
in the centre of the parlour; and then around this
we either all sat as an Iceland family, or raising the carpetbarriers,
we lolled on the nearest beds in couch and sofa,
and ottoman style.

The lamp in its primitive times was a patty-pan; but
having spent its youth in different sorts of hot ovens, its
tin had entirely shone out, and nothing remained save the
oxydated iron; yet, to this it owed its present elevated
station in Glenville—humility before exaltation! In the
edges were three holes punched with a tenpenny nail, and
into these were put and fastened three several wires, which
united eighteen inches above the patty-pan, were joined by
a strong twine, tied to a hook in a pole: and then the whole
affair, when released from the hand, could, and did swing
with a very regular irregularity over the middle parlour.
The illuminator filled with lard or bear's oil,[5] and supplied
with a piece of cloth for wick, was touched with flame
from a burning brand; and then away it blazed in glory,
filling all things, even eyes and noses, with light and soot!
But we soon got used to suffocation; and many were our
pleasant nights around the pendulum lamp, spite of inconveniences
within, and the cries of prowling beasts without,
or the demon-like shrieks and howls of wintry tempests!
Calm consciences in rude and lone huts bid defiance to
most evils and dangers! Besides, who has not known the

delight of lying in bed under an unceiled roof, and of being
lulled to slumber by the music of a pattering rain! So our
delight arose often from a sense of entire security: and yet
the dangers and evils of the dark and howling wilderness
so near!—separated by a slight barrier!

During the day, this winter, I took lessons in axecraft;
for, in addition to the “niggering-off,”[6] it became necessary
as the cold increased, to chop off logs, especially as
our fire-place devoured wood at the rate of half-a-cord per
diem. Niggering belongs mainly to very large timber, and
pertains rather to the science of log-rolling than of preparing
fuel; but chopping is essential to nearly every branch
of a woodsman's life, and must be learned by all who aspire
to respectability and independence.

Awkward indeed, were my first essays, and my strength
inartificially bestowed on every blow, was soon exhausted;
but when we had “larned the sling o' the axe,” then could
we as easily execute a cord a day, as at first the fourth of
the measure. Nay, we could at last mount a prostrate
beech and take the butt end two feet in diameter: and
then, with feet apart, the exact width of the intended chip,
could we cut away, within one inch of the cowhide boots,
and that neatly and regularly all the way to the centre:
and then, turning round, accomplish the same on the other
side, till cuttings matched and almost met, when we would
make the final and flourishing cut, and then in a moment
lay two logs out of one!

But oh! the way Tom Robison could flourish the axe!
And proud am I to call Tom my master; indeed, all Glenville
were indebted to his lessons. Tom was a fellow of
gigantic proportions, longer than six feet three inches, and
with enormous width of breast,—about “the girth” like a
columnar beech. He had also legs and arms to match.

His face was as mild as a full moon's, and nearly as big,
and in temper he was as good-natured and harmless as a
chubby baby! Tom rarely bragged; although he could
shoot well, drive wagon well, ride horses wild and tame,
and walk as fast and nearly as far as an elephant: still he
would boast a little about his chopping, being indeed as an
axeman, the envy and admiration of all that part of the
Purchase. Oh! I do wish we could paint Tom's smile of
benevolent scorn as he took the axe from my awkward
hands, to “larn me the sling!” when he saw me puffing at
every ineffectual blow, striking every time in a new place,
till a little weak amorphous chip was at long last haggled
out with hashed edges—it was really sublime.

“Jeest[7] do it so like, Mr. Carltin—a sort a hold your
left hand here, allowin you're goin to strike right hand
licks; and your tother hand so fashin, a toward the helf—
but a sort a loose: then swing the axe out so, lettin the
loose hand run up agin tother this away”—and here Tom's
axe finished the sentence or speech by gleaming down and
burying itself nearly to its back in the log: but next instant it
was again quivering in the air, and changing its direction was
gleaming and burying itself as at first, till out leaped elastic
chips light as a feather, although these chips were twelve
inch eslong, and two thick! And then the log would show
two inclined planes as if wrought with a chisel!—and all
the time Tom talking and laughing away, like a fellow
whittling poplar with a dirk-knife. Oh! it was really delicious
to see such cutting; and it was surprising anybody
should call wood-chopping hard work—it was nothing but
cutting butter with a hot knife.

Reader, Tom had actually done in axery, what Horace
pronounces in writing, the prefection of the art, viz. ravishing
and yet beguiling the reader into an opinion that

he can write as well. Tom therefore was a master. Aye,
the axe in his hand, was like the bow in Paganini's—and
in the Purchase vastly more serviceable. In short, Tom
could cut wood like lightning; and whilst some things can
be done before a fluent tongue (female of course) can say
Jack Robison, we defy any body to do the same things before
Tom Robison could chop a stick off!

We shall now describe our firemaking, not indeed to be
imitated in here to the utter ruin of all moderate fortunes,
but to show the grand scale on which we do even small
matters out there. To build a New Purchase fire, a cabin
must first be builded or built for the fire, with a fireplace,
constituting nearly one whole end of the cabin; then we
must have wood, not by the cord, but by the acre; and
thirdly, we must have active, robust, honest-hearted fellows
to cut and carry in, unless one niggers-off, as some do, and
drags logs into the cabin by horse-power.

The foundation of our fire was laid every day very early
and required all hands. We men—hem! we men rose
before sun-up; and then uncle John hauled out the relics of
yesterday's fire—coals plenty and lively—the unconsumed
centre of the back-log and chunks of foresticks; while
Glenville and Carlton issued forth to select a new back-log.
This was usually of beech, the greener the better, and about
seven feet long and two in diameter. It was rolled to the
door wth handspikes, where, with the aid of uncle Johnit
was next rolled, lifted, pushed and coaxed into the centre
of the parlour: and here we rested and blowed, uttering
between the puffs—“plaguey heavy!” “a'most too long!'
and the like. But directly, with a few united efforts the
back-log was rolling and crushing over the coals and soon
lodged with a thundering noise in its bed of hot ashes, and
against the stone back of the inner chimney; we, during
this process, alternately lifting our scorched shins, and then
at the noise of the thunder, nimbly leaping back and rub

bing them; till we could nearly have ventured at last to
try the ordeal of the burning plowshares. The log was
now covered with ashes to prevent too rapid a consumption;
and then two delicate andirons in the shape of pig
iron, were pushed by a stick into proper position, being
always, any time in the winter, too hot to be touched with
the hand or even kicked with the foot. In case a cabin has
opposite doors, much labour and many sprains may be
saved and avoided, by tackling a horse to an end of the backlog
and hauling it into the cabin; it is, however, rather a slovenly
practice, and used mostly by women in the absence
of the men.

Next in order were the second-story back-log, and the
fore stick—equal in length, but different in diameter and
material: the former being of beech and one foot thick, the
latter of sugar tree and about eight inches thick. Each is
often carried by two persons; but still oftener each is
hipped. And hipping is done by one man who has some
strength and more dexterity; who adroitly whips up the
log on his hip, and trots off with it like the youngest quilldriver
of a shop will do with Miss Troublesome's small
bundle of silk under his arm. These timbers are also frequently
shouldered—but I regret to say that a certain friend
of ours when his turn came, used to roll his stick as far
as the door, and then hitch it. Hitching is performed by
getting the article on an end (no odds which) and then
working it along by alternate corners: an operation that
impressed on our puncheons numerous indented mementos
of our friend's lazy ingenuity. The plane beauty of poplar
or pine floors it would have marred forever! The puncheons,
however, thought little of the matter, although they
wriggled and “screeched” like—like—let's see. Oh! like
all the world!

Meanwhile uncle John carried in brush enough to make
a Jersey load of oven faggots; and the girl, baskets full

of all sized chips, from the Tommyrobison kind down to
the Carlton sort; and so when the upper back-log and forestick
had been arranged, there were present all the kindling
and burning materials. An infant sapling, some three
inches thick, lay between the back log proper and the forestick,
forming thus a chasm for a bushel of burning coals;
while other coals remained under and above the pile; and
then across the upper coals were placed bits of small trees
intermingled with hot chunks and cold chips, the whole being
capped and climactirized with a brush heap.

Now issued, first, volumes of smoke, then a spiteful
snap or two, becoming soon, however, a loud and decided
crackling; and then appeared several fierce curly blazes,
white, red, and blue, verifying the vulgar saying about
smoke and fire; till the temperature of things getting to the
scientific point—out burst simultaneously from all parts of
the structure a wide, pure, living, roaring flame chasing
soot-clouds up the stick-chimney, dispersing fire-builders
as far as the carpet barrier, and lighting the interior cabin
with the blaze of a volcano!

Combustion—(hem!) was supported during the day on
the most philosophic principles; by supplying fuel: not a
small bladder of gas; not even an old fashioned Philadelphia
iron fore stick and stone black log; but real backwood's
fuel, chips, brush, bits of saplings and miniature timber.
The fire was constructed regularly once only in
twenty-four hours; although some back logs will last
nearly twice that period.

Each firemaker had a tong of green timber an inch
thick and six feet long; hence two persons lifting or poking
in concert were equivalent to a pair of tongs. Usually
we operated with only one tong; but by dexterity all can
be accomplished with that one, that in here is commonly
done with “tongses” and shovel to boot. True, our practice
was incessant; since no man, woman, nor child in the

Purchase ever stood, sat, or lay near a fire without poking
at it! Hence my determined and ineradicable hostility to
a fire of coal, bituminous or anthracite—the thing won't be
poked! And what's a fire for, if it aint to be poked?
Our young woman now, in here, keeps every thing
in the shape of poker, and scraper, and tong, single
or double, out of my way; and, when the grate or stove
needs a little tussling, in comes she with some iron article
or other: but always on going out takes the article with
her—“for fear Mr. Carlton will spile her fire!!”

Bah!—don't lecture me about furnaces and flues, and
patent grates and ranges, and no-burns and all-saves, of
this pitiful age! Give me my all-burn and no-save fire of
beech and sugar and chip and brush—hand back my tong
—let me poke once more! Oh! let me hear and see
once more before I die a glorious flame roaring up a stick-chimney!
There let me, on this celebrated cold Thursday,
thermometer two and a half inches below zero, there let
me stand by my cabin fire and be heated once more
through and through! Oh! the luxury of lying in bed
and looking from behind our Scotch wall on that fire!

Oh! ye poor frozen, starving wretches of our blind and
horrible alleys, and dark and loathsome cellars; ye, I now
see buying twopenneth of huckstered sticks to heat your
water gruel for one more mouthful before ye die; ye, that
are shivering in rags, begging of that red-faced carter in the
pea jacket a small, knotty, four-foot-stick of sour, sappy
scrub oak just fallen from his cart, to hear it sob, sob, on the
foodless hearth of your dungeon like holes--away! for
heaven's sake, if you starve not before, away! next summer
to the woods!

Go; squat on Congress land! Go; find corn and pork and
turkeys and squirrels and opossums and deer to eat! Go;
and in the cold, cold, cruel winter like to day, you shall sit
and lie and warm you by such a fire!—Go; squalid slaves!
beg an axe—put out—make tracks for the tall timber—Go;

taste what it is to be free! Away!—run!—leap!—and
shout—“Hurraw—aw! the ranges for—ever!!”