 | CHAPTER II. The western merchant |  |
2. CHAPTER II.
After mature deliberation, my parents consented that I
might join my elder brother in Missouri. Joseph was the
pioneer of the family, and Providence seemed to crown his
efforts with success. While I was building castles in the
air, he had already amassed enough money to purchase our
aged parents a substantial and comfortable dwelling in the
village. And he was now about to begin business for himself,
with a fair prospect of earning as many hard dollars
in reality, as the imaginary ones I had been dreaming
about.
Presto! change! No one had a greater facility of abandoning
old schemes, and launching his ideas in new channels,
than myself. This I attribute partly to my desultory
reading, and partly to the instability of my natural disposition.
No doubt for this cause I have failed in many undertakings,
which might have had a successful termination,
had they been perseveringly prosecuted. I have often
been reproached for the habit, and exhorted to be patient.
But it has had its advantages too; for it has more than once
instigated me to abandon bad practices, and impolitic pursuits,
which, if persisted in, might have terminated in inglorious
death, or in hopeless bankruptcy.
My back was now completely turned upon the law. I
sought no more the deep solitude of the woods to practice
Demosthenic oratory. I consigned to the flames nearly all
of my juvenile manuscripts, and put off all my philosophical,
historical and poetical aspirations. Even at that early age
I had sent to the publishers of periodicals more than one
had been paid. I was now determined to be a
merchant, a millionaire, and nothing else. And when I
returned with my princely equipage, my trunks stowed
full of U. S. Bank notes, perhaps, Miss Blanche would
not hesitate to be my bride. But she would certainly have
hesitated then; and her family made no effort to conceal
their repugnance to my intimacy with her. Hers was one
of the “first families,” while mine was in the category of
the opposite extreme. She had a snug independence,
while I had nothing certain but the very dubious future
before me. I suffered the throes of disappointed true
love—and I believe the first love of boys of that age happens,
in a majority of cases, as mine did, to be fixed upon
objects somewhat older than themselves. And, as in my
case, the affection is pretty generally reciprocated. Blanche,
of course, would not marry me; and in truth I had not the
impudence to ask her; but she could easily read all the unmistakable
signs in my eyes and visage, of a growing passion;
and, in turn she was kind enough to permit me to
understand that I was not indifferent to her. This thought
was a constant solace to me during several long years of
absence. But we will let the scroll of the future unroll
itself.
Once more I was upon the highway, trudging along in
solitude, with my bundle at my back. This time I was
not quite so oblivious as formerly of my condition, nor so
happy in my meditations. Once or twice, as I thought of
Blanche, and deplored my cruel fate, a moisture momentarily
dimmed my eyes. But such emotions could not long
hold one of my temperament. With a rather unusual
fierceness and vehemence, I resolved to make my way in
the world, and to obtain wealth, which, I began to perceive,
secured.
I reached Claysville, on the Licking river, about dark,
which was not half the distance I had walked when I set
out from the parental roof on the former occasion. This
time I was tired, and had no appetite. My brother Jacob
(another elder brother) dwelt at Claysville. He was a
merchant in a small way, having bought his goods in Cincinnati
on credit. He informed me that business was
dull, and it was probable his creditors would sell him out
before long under the hammer, unless some good luck
turned up in his behalf. He likewise expected to be married
in a few weeks. Both events came to pass shortly
after my departure.
At Claysville, I embarked on a flat boat loaded with
produce for Cincinnati, the Licking river emptying into
the Ohio, opposite that city. And now I was afloat upon
the water, in a rude craft, and among profane men, who
devoted all their time, when not working at the oars, to
cards—men whom I had never seen before, and whose
manners and conversation were coarse and vulgar in the
extreme. For two days and nights I realized fully the
horrors of one of my age in so forlorn a condition. In
vain they strove to rally my spirits; I was plunged into
deep dejection. They were not really dishonest or vicious
in their natures—indeed they manifested genuine compassion
for me—but still I had never before been thrown
among such rough associates, or subjected to such fare as
sufficed for them. However, before we arrived at the
mouth of the river, I became more cheerful, as I reflected
upon the necessity I was under to make the most of the
circumstances in which I was placed.
When we arrived at the mouth of the river, I paid the
a skiff, I went over to the city, and put up at a hotel. I
bought a trunk, in which I packed my clothes; and, as I
was now in buoyant spirits, everything around being novel
to me, and wearing a cheerful aspect, I joined a company
of young men going that evening to the show. This was
the celebrated “Infernal Regions,” which I believe they
keep there still. It was a place representing the abode of
the damned. The clanking of chains, hissing of winged
serpents, groans of the tormented, grins of the infernal spirits,
and all represented in appalling propria personæ; to say
nothing of the muttering thunder, the flashing lightning,
the sulphurous odors, &c., altogether made up a spectacle
well worthy of its expressive appellation. Many of us, on
first beholding this artificial pandemonium and its appendages,
were thrilled with affright; but the scene soon became
familiar to us, and we then amused ourselves by
marking the effect produced on the countenances of the
new visitors. One of the recesses containing some of the
vilest sinners, was surrounded by a steel railing, which
was kept charged by a concealed galvanic battery. The
company were requested not to touch that railing, and most
of them, being in the secret, kept aloof. One of the visitors,
however, being a rough boatman, and in the western
phrase, “pretty well corned,” soon forgot the injunction,
and unconsciously placed his hand upon the metal to steady
himself. Instantaneously he was knocked down by the
shock. This produced a burst of laughter at his expense.
When he arose, he turned round with an air of defiance,
and shook his fists at the company. As no one seemed
inclined to accept his challenge, presently he very deliberately
leaned upon the railing again. Again he was
knocked down. This time, when he arose, he pulled off
while the company roared with laughter, exclaimed:
“Now, come on! Some one of you has knocked me down
twice, and if he has any part of a man's spirit in him, he'll
stand up to me face to face, and have a fair fight.” We
all laughed outright, which only enraged him the more.
At length he was informed of his mistake, but not convinced
of it, as he could not comprehend the modus operandi
of the fluid. He was conveyed out by some of his
companions, swearing, and uttering direful threats; and
soon afterwards, we all returned to our lodgings, highly delighted
with the entertainment, and somewhat shocked to
think there was in reality, a prototype of the place we had
viewed, into which we might ultimately be plunged, sure
enough. I have often thought that this exhibition was
calculated to do the rising generation some service. But
no one of very weak nerves should venture to behold it.
The next morning I went on board the first steamer I
ever saw. It was the old low pressure Belvidere, with the
cabin below, and only separated from the engine by a slight
board partition. Being a mere stripling in appearance, and
there being but few passengers engaged, the captain charged
me only about half-price for the passage to St. Louis,
twelve dollars—now one can go from Pittsburgh to St. Louis
for ten dollars. The novelty of my condition, new and
strange objects being hourly presented to my view, soon
banished all painful thoughts from my mind. The captain's
son, the clerk of the boat, was about my age, and we
were soon as intimate as old friends. Even then, as is too
often the case now, the boat remained several days over
the time appointed for it to start; and during that time I
was, of course, boarded and lodged without expense. And
it was well it was so, for after making some essential additions
in advance to secure my berth—there were no state rooms
then—there remained barely sufficient cash in my purse to
pay my expenses by stage coach, from St. Louis to the
place of my destination. During this delay I felt no impatience,
for I was getting initiated into the mysteries of
life upon the river, which afforded a constant fund of excitement.
At night some would go to the theatre, or other
place of amusement, while others remained on board, and
amused themselves with cards, or other games. I declined
the invitations to join any of these parties, partly from the
condition of my finances, and partly because I occasionally
witnessed among them some reckless exhibitions of depravity,
to which I had not been accustomed.
At length the Belvidere departed on her way down the
Ohio, and the second day we arrived at Louisville. By
this time I had become acquainted with all the officers and
most of the passengers on board; and I went out in company
with some of them, the engineer, pilot, and the captain's
son, on an excursion to see the city. They led me
into several places of bad resort, such as low tippling
houses, &c.; but could not induce me to partake with them.
They, however, induced me to indulge in a visit to the
theatre; as they assured me, after a nice calculation of the
expenses to the end of my journey, (I having inconsiderately
exhibited to them the whole amount of my funds,)
that I had sufficient means and need not stint myself. This
was the first time I had ever witnessed a performance on
the stage, and as the piece enacted happened to exemplify
the tricks of miscreant sharpers upon unsuspecting strangers,
it had the good effect of rousing my suspicions, and
making me more cautious and guarded in my intercourse
with those in whose company I had been thrown. In vain
the premises and vicinity; I refused them with some emphasis,
and at the hazard of giving offence, I embraced the
first opportunity of withdrawing from them unperceived.
I left the theatre, alone, before the performance was
over, and endeavored to find my way back to the boat.
This was no easy thing to accomplish, for it was dark and
raining. I wandered about for more than an hour in quest
of the wharf, and to no purpose, although I sought information
of every one I met. Their directions seemed to be
contradictory, or I was incapable of comprehending them.
I was now quite unhappy. My own calculations as to the
sufficiency of my means to carry me to the end of my journey,
did not satisfy me; and I was not without apprehensions
of being robbed, if not murdered, in the streets. At
length I found the Belvidere, and also found my companions,
who had arrived first, by a more direct route, and
who had remained till the end of the play; which, by computation,
proved that I had been wandering about to no
purpose for more than an hour. The only revenge they
took for my abrupt desertion of them, was an unfounded
conjecture that I had been engaged in an affair of gallantry.
This wounded me a little, which only increased their mirth.
My solemn protestations of innocence attracted the notice
of one of the passengers, who had hitherto secluded himself
as much as possible from the company. This was General
Ashley, a member of Congress, from Missouri, as I
learned during the last day of the voyage. He was an extremely
slim, tall man, advanced in years; his complexion
was dark, his countenance grave and dignified, and its expression
enhanced by a pair of the blackest and most lustrous
eyes I ever beheld. “They are only quizzing you,
young man,” said he; “your ingenuous denial of the
This was said in a soothing tone, and at once
attached me to the general. And he seemed to take a
special liking to me. On learning that I was going to
Missouri, he said that he was a resident of that state, and
was pleased to see young men of intelligence going thither.
I can easily excuse the compliment of the politician, when
I reflect upon the service he did me. He afforded me
valuable information in regard to the country; and besides,
did me another favor, as will be seen in the sequel, for
which he deserved my lasting gratitude.
The next morning, there being an abundance of water
in the river, we crossed over the boiling falls without difficulty
or accident, and proceeded on our way. At that
time there were more snags in the river than at present,
and although steamboats were not so numerous, yet disasters
were by no means unfrequent. There was a portly
Roman Catholic priest on board, who frequently expressed
to me his apprehensions of danger, but always in a cheerful
and half bantering manner. While he kept aloof from the
rest of the passengers, he was very communicative with
me. I conceived a liking for him, for there was a simplicity
in his conversation that charmed me. He had been
long a resident of Maryland, and was now going to the
diocese of Missouri. He amused me with a recital of many
of his adventures in this country, (he was a foreigner by
birth,) in which was mingled no little humor, which served
to pass the time agreeably; but there was never anything
in his anecdotes derogatory of his sacred calling. The first
night after leaving Louisville, (where the priest embarked,)
the boat was impeded a good deal by the masses of drift
wood floating on the surface, and it was necessary sometimes
to stop the engine, (there was but one engine then,)
sometimes whole trees, drifting about us. About ten
o'clock P. M., when the priest proposed to retire, he ascertained
to his discomfort that he had been allotted a berth
in the immediate vicinity of the wheel house. In vain he
expostulated with the clerk: all the most desirable berths
had been taken by the other passengers, and the officers of
the boat. But he submitted to his fate with a good grace,
remarking, “if any mishap befalls me, I shall lay the blame
at your door.” The clerk replied: “Yes; and if a snag
should happen to send you to the devil before morning,
you may tell the old boy it was my fault.” I tendered my
berth to the priest, which he peremptorily declined taking.
The old gentleman very deliberately disrobed himself, and
after a brief prayer sought repose in the place that had been
assigned him. An hour afterwards I followed his example,
as did most of the passengers.
We had not been asleep many minutes, before we were
all startled by a terrific crash, and springing to our feet,
we beheld with dismay a huge snag, as large in diameter
as a flour barrel, protruding some ten feet through the side
of the cabin, and directly through the berth that had been
occupied by the priest! Perceiving the old gentleman
lying on the floor, I ran to him to ascertain the extent of
his injuries, when to my surprise he rose up, still smiling,
with an ebony crucifix in his hand, and declared that he
felt no pain, and thought that he had received no hurt.
The engine was instantly stopped, and it was ascertained
that the snag had broken off at the water's edge, without
doing farther injury than disabling the wheel and making
an ugly hole through the side of the cabin. The pilot had
run upon the snag on the right hand, while deviating from
his course to avoid a floating tree on the larboard side.
when we reached the shore, where we remained the rest
of the night undergoing repairs. It was ascertained sure
enough that the priest was uninjured, notwithstanding he
had been knocked some fifteen feet from his berth; and
what was more extraordinary still, his watch, which had
been cast as far in another direction, was likewise uninjured,
and running. But the greatest miracle of all was,
that his money, which he had carried loosely in his pocket,
consisting of gold and silver coins, and which had been
scattered in every direction, was all recovered. Instead
of venting reproaches on the clerk, the good old man uttered
nothing but exclamations of joy, that he had been so
signally spared. The only request he made, was to be
permitted to place his mattress on the floor of the cabin,
and sleep there, which was accorded him.
For several days there was no other incident worth remembering,
and the voyage became tedious. At that day
it was the universal practice on the western rivers, for the
passengers to pass away the time at cards. Even my
friend the general, made one at a game, and invited me to
join the party. I did not refuse, as we played merely for
amusement. I knew but little of whist, or any other game,
but they soon taught me to play pretty well; and I confess
it was not long before I conceived a fondness for that species
of amusement.
The night before we reached St. Louis, while we were
lying at the shore, the pilot, engineer and captain's son,
induced me to join them in a game of loo, not for money,
but simply for grains of coffee. The old general sat a
small distance apart, looking on, but said nothing. Two
or three times successively I succeeded in winning all the
grains. At last the engineer, (a man of gigantic size, who
child's play, and that he would play no more, unless the
grains were to represent something, he cared not how small
the value. I was flushed with my success, and being unwilling
to relinquish the sport, agreed that we should begin
again, with sixteen grains each, each grain representing
a picayune, and the pilot should be the banker. This was
satisfactory, and so the game went on. My success continued,
and by degrees the most of the coffee found its way
to my side of the board. When one after another found
himself broken, I perceived, without making any objection,
for I was winning it all, that he replenished his means
by handing an additional dollar to the banker, and getting
sixteen more grains. Of course it was not long before the
tide turned, as they were all confederated to pluck me.
Soon my winnings were all gone, and I found myself minus
the dollar originally invested. I betrayed some anxiety,
but did not, in my eagerness, hesitate to invest another
dollar, hoping for a return of my good luck. But I hoped
in vain. Dollar after dollar disappeared, and my very
fingers trembled with excitement. When I perceived that
I had nothing remaining but a five dollar bill, in agony of
heart I rose from the table, and declared I would play no
more. I said I had done wrong, and confessed that I deserved
to lose my money. It was in vain they attempted
to persuade me that by venturing a little more, I might get
it all back again. I had ventured too far already. I told
them that the bill was all I had left, and as that would not
suffice to pay my stage fare, I intended to undergo the penance
of completing my journey on foot. But I had not
sounded the depth of my losses yet. Upon reckoning up
the number of grains on the table, it was found that there
were some sixty-four more than had been paid for. So
certainly had no participation in that part of the game, I
was reluctantly constrained to pay my proportion of the deficiency,
which bereft me of another dollar.
I turned away in disgust from this, the first instance of
my gambling; and when the party dispersed, General Ashley
remarked to me, that my pluckers were a set of swindlers,
and that the officers of many of the boats at that time,
were pretty much of the same description, depending more
upon making money in that way from unwary passengers,
than by their salaries. In reply to a suggestion of mine,
he said it would be best not to molest them, but to leave
it to time and experience to correct the evil. He then tendered
me as a loan the amount of money he supposed I
would need, which I inconsiderately declined taking.
When we reached St. Louis, on, I believe, the tenth day, it
was getting dark. I separated from the crowd on landing
and set out alone, entire stranger as I was, in quest of
cheap lodgings. I went up Main street, at that time quite
a different looking avenue from what it is now, until I came
to a small hotel, or rather tavern, on the right hand side.
I forget whether it was the “United States,” the “Eagle,”
or the “Washington;” but I remember that it was a diminutive,
dirty concern. After agreeing upon terms, I returned
with a porter to the boat, and removed my baggage
to my new quarters. No chamber was given me; there
was not so much as a parlor or sitting room; and all the
guests were packed into the bar-room, which was filled
with the fumes of tobacco, and the worse odors of adulterated
liquors. There were not even chairs to sit on; only
rude benches, without backs. And to add to my discomfort,
the already riotous and profane company present was
joined by the pilot and engineer of the Belvidere. Not
followed the rough herd to a back room, where
a table was scantily furnished, adorned with the dark fragments
of dilapidated crockery, broken and rusty knives and
forks, and surrounded with long greasy benches, similar to
those in the bar-room. There were black coffee, black
bread, fried potatoes and cabbage, and a most overwhelming
odor of onions and garlic. I sat down; but did not desire
the waiter to “holp me”—and as I did not ask for anything,
of course I got nothing.
When I rose from the table, I sallied out, dark as it was,
and somewhat inclement, (it was February,) to endeavor to
find something in the novelty of the scene to dissipate my
painfully gloomy thoughts. Chance directed my steps to
the Post-office, and to my half-furtive inquiry for letters,
to my surprise one was handed me. I read it by the light
of the lamp near the window. It was from Blanche, and
ran thus: “Luke—” (there had been a “Dear” prefixed,
which had been rubbed out, and substituted by a “Dr.”
which had likewise been obliterated, before sealing the letter)—“I
suppose you will be astonished to receive this
letter from me; you know I promised only to reply to your
letters; but I have just been thinking how unhappy and
forlorn one must be in your condition, alone in the world,
so far from home, among strangers; and I could not resist
the inclination to throw into your sad lot a single little
grain of comfort, provided a cheering word from your old
school-mate Blanche, would suffice. I am aware what a
botheration the discovery of my conduct would occasion
in my uncle's family; but still, as I have a monitor within
which tells me there can be no great harm in it, I am bold
enough to write the first letter, inasmuch as it is not a love
letter. It is nothing of the kind, Luke. I am merely your
many years, perhaps, before you will be in a condition to
marry any one; and by that time, if I were to remain single,
they would be calling me an old maid. No, Luke, I
am not even dreaming of love matters; I only want to
encourage a friend whom I esteem, to struggle manfully
against the adverse waves of the world; and to rely, with
a heart steadily virtuous and upright, upon his own exertions
for success. And you will succeed, if you do right;
and I hope it will be right speedily. You must not forget
to write me as you promised. Enclose the letters in
those to your mother. Good-by, and believe, however
rudely fortune may treat you, you will always have a friend
in
Blanche.”
Slowly, tenderly, and with suffused eyes, I placed the
letter within my vest, next to my heart. Whatever had
been the intensity of my feelings of attachment for Blanche
before, there could be no longer any doubt as to their precise
nature now. That arrow, which had sped on the
wings of the wind so many hundred miles, had most effectually
done its office. Never had Cupid taken a truer aim.
It was a dead shot.
When I returned to the inn, I desired to be shown to
my lodgings. The barkeeper, with the remaining inch of
a tallow candle in his hand, went before, and we ascended
to the second floor, which was next to the roof. The
naked and dingy joists were exposed over head, and between
them I saw the light of heaven through sundry holes
above. As we pushed open the creaking door, I had
heard a rushing, scampering noise within, which gradually
subsided as we entered. When I looked round, I could
perceive nothing in motion; but I saw a mysterious smile
unfinished condition as the ceiling. There was no carpet.
But there were half a dozen beds in the room, each
of them having two or three occupants. By a convulsive
effort I threw off my coat, and placed it on the back of an
old chair.
“You'd better not leave your clothes there,” said my
conductor.
“Why?” I inquired.
“Because the rats are sometimes troublesome here, and
have been known to carry off gentlemen's clothes before
morning,” he replied.
“Then where shall I place them?” I asked.
“Tie them up in your handkerchief, your shoes and all,
and then fasten the bundle to this string suspended from the
joist. The noise you heard when we came in was made by
the rats scampering away. But when I take the light out,
they will return.”
“Friend,” said I, very deliberately putting on my coat
again, “I hope you will take no offence; but, if I live, I
shall not remain in this house to-night.”
“Nobody can blame you,” he replied in an under tone;
“I wish I could leave it myself, but the landlord will not
pay me any wages if I go before my engagement is up.
Those tough old boatmen don't mind them much; but
there's no telling but what a hundred or two of big Norways
might succeed in cutting your throat before morning.
Almost every night somebody gets bit.”
My mind was made up. I had now but four dollars in
my pocket, which were reduced to three, after paying for
my supper, and hiring a porter to carry my trunk away; but
I went directly to the City Hotel, and demanded a good
room, with as much assurance as if I had had thousands.
morning, and avail myself of his generous offer. That
determined upon, I threw myself on a comfortable bed, and
slept soundly till morning.
I lost no time in waiting upon General A., at his residence
on the morrow; and on learning my business, he spread
open before me his well-filled pocket-book, and told me
to take as much as I wanted, which I could repay at any
future time when it might be convenient. I took but
ten dollars; and, after expressing my thanks, and promising
faithfully to enclose the like sum to him, out of the
first money I should receive, took my leave, and wended
my way with a light heart to the stage office, and was
booked for Franklin, the place of my destination.
The next morning I set out in the coach. The road was
soft and deep, there being then, as is the case, I believe,
yet, no paved or Macadamized roads in Missouri. On the
second day, I remember a little incident which came nigh
placing me in an unpleasant predicament. When ascending
a hill, the passengers had to get out and walk, to enable
the horses to drag up the heavy stage. Near the road, and
running parallel with it, we perceived a very pretty little
animal about the size of a rabbit. The driver told me to
catch it, assuring me it was one of a kind easily taken. I
made a dash at it, and, instead of running away, it only
paused, and erected its tail, assuming a menacing attitude.
Just then one of the passengers, remembering that I must
in a few moments resume my seat by his side, called out
for me to desist, and informed me that it was a polecat.
He spoke just in time to save me. I was well content to
withstand the laughter of the company on escaping such
an odoriferous salutation as was threatened me. No doubt,
had I been taking my leave of the stage, they would have
western practical jokes.
Here I had my first view of a prairie, and I was charmed
with it. I could easily fancy how beautiful it would be
when the warm breezes of May should cause the various
wild flowers to adorn it. And then, for the first time, I
beheld the prairie hen or grouse in countless numbers; and
ever and anon flocks of deer in the distance.
| CHAPTER II. The western merchant | |