University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.

All that night the boats lay together; the Alexander
with her boiler bursted, and of course useless
until another was obtained; and the Turtle unable
to proceed, in consequence of the broken condition
of her wheelhouse and buckets. Few on board of
either boat slept, for the groans of the miserable sufferers
reached every ear and heart. Though Staylor,
by his recklessness, had assisted may be in
bringing on the catastrophe, he was not wanting in
humanity to the afflicted. He and Ralph were the
most active of all in rendering assistance; they
were up all night, giving every aid and comfort in
their power.

There were several dandies on board of the Alexander,
towards whom Staylor entertained an unconquerable
aversion. It seemed not misplaced in this
case, at least with regard to three of them, for they,
as soon as quiet was restored, and there was no more
danger to be apprehended, slily betook themselves
to their berths.

In the morning, without even asking after the
condition of the injured, two of them got up, and
displaying their dressing boxes with great formality
and care, they commenced the duties of their toilet.

Staylor, who had just entered the cabin of the

Turtle, from the other boat, where he had been engaged
all night, cast his eyes on these gentlemen at
their vocation, and after inspecting them for several
minutes, as if he doubted to what race they belonged,
he called sternly and loudly for the cabin boy. The
urchin soon made his appearance, and Staylor demanded
of him: “Where's the baggage, my baggage,
I gave you last night.”

“Your baggage, master?” ejaculated the boy,
with a look of astonishment.

“Yes, my baggage, you black rascal, if you've
lost my baggage, I'll take your ears off close to
your head. I can't afford to buy baggage for you to
lose.”

“What baggage, Master?” asked the boy, imploringly.

“Why, my indispensable baggage, my clean sham
shirt collar, like that gentleman's!” said Staylor,
pointing to one of the persons we have named, who
at that moment, was adjusting with much precision,
a sham collar round his neck.

“Oh! it's in my other jacket pocket I believe,”
replied the boy, his face brightening up, “I'll get
it, sir.”

“Well,” said Staylor, authoritatively, “be in a
hurry, I want to dress for breakfast.”

As the boy left the cabin to get the collar, Staylor
walked across the floor, with the eyes of all the passengers
turned on him, and picking up a piece of a
mirror, which had been shattered in the night by the

collision of the boats, he drew a chair between the
two young gentlemen, whose berths, lower ones,
happened to join each other. Each had his dressing
case in his berth, with the glass of it so arranged
that he could view himself. Drawing his chair, as
we have said, between them, Staylor, with affected
nicety, took two pins from the cuff of his old jeans
coat, and with them contrived to fasten the broken
bit of the mirror on the board that formed the partition
between their berths. Having done this, he
called for the cabin boy, with a manner and tone of
affected softness, which was so well acted, that notwithstanding
the gloom that hung over every one
present, there was scarcely an individual, save the
two young gentlemen, who could refrain from laughing.
At this moment, the cabin boy returned with
Staylor's sham in his hand, which was not at all the
smoother from having been mashed in his pocket.

“Ah, waiter,” said Staylor, in a simpering tone,
“that's it. I wish you'd tell those scalded persons
not to groan so, it disturbs my nerves, and I can't
adjust my collar.”

Staylor's satire took, all understood instantly what
he meant, and amidst a roar of laughter, at the objects
of his ridicule, he with great formality, fixed
his sham collar. During the operation, the young
gentlemen put up their dressing cases with looks of
chagrin, that in vain attempted the disdainful, and
left the cabin.

In the course of the morning, not far from the

bank of the river, on the skirt of a wood, three or
four hundred yards from a shanty, the only human
habitation within several miles, the dead were hastily
interred. No service was said over them. They
were placed in rough square boxes for coffins—the
mother and her child in the same box—and hurriedly
consigned to their mother earth by six of the
firemen, who unceremoniously gave dust to dust.
The passengers, reminded of the frailness of mortality,
shrunk from standing on the damp earth in
the chilly morning, but gathered on the guard of the
Turtle next to the river bank, and there beheld the
interment, while the ladies, muffled in their cloaks and
shawls, looked on it from their cabin windows with
troubled countenances. The mate ordered one of the
hands to cut several gashes in a tree nearest to the
place of burial, that the friends of the dead might
find their remains, if they wished to give them holy
sepulchre. This was all the mark or memorial that
told of their resting-place.

It was not until noon that the Turtle was able to
proceed. Then, her buckets having been mended,
and the wounded from the Alexander placed on
board, whither her passengers had all repaired, she
left her ill-fated companion.

After the boat got under way, in looking round
for Staylor, Ralph was much disappointed to find
he was not aboard. Ralph concluded that Staylor
must have been accidentally left, as he had understood
him to say he was bound for the south-west,

where he lived, near Mr. Davidson, Helen's husband.

With reflections saddened with melancholy Ralph
wandered about the steamer, paying very little attention
to any thing or any body. He thought of
Ruth—of their loves—of the journey she was about
to take with Mrs. Davidson—and his mind became
morbidly alive to the dangers of the way. The
form of Ruth—a scalded and mangled corpse, such
as he had just seen buried—arose to his imagination
so fearfully, that it appeared to be impressed on his
organ of sight. To exclude it from his mind he
threw himself in his berth, and, drawing the curtains,
placed his arm over his brow, and tried to
philosophise with his molancholy. This only made
his fancies more morbid; and, as a heavy rain had
set in, Ralph felt he had the prospect of three or four
as gloomy days before him as he had ever known.

At Portsmouth (Ohio) the Turtle stopped, and
Ralph took passage on board of another boat, called
the Caution, which had just rung her first bell, and
was on the eve of starting. It still rained incessantly,
and continued to do so until after the boat
had passed Cincinnati some hours, when, about ten
o'clock in the morning, the blue sky appeared, here
and there, above; and a brilliant sun, at last, struggled
through the clouds, and, dispersing them, shone
forth in his full splendour.

Ralph took a seat upon the guards, determined to
observe and be amused with the scene around him,

and to participate in whatever was harmless that
might occur; for he found that sadness, like jealousy,
“makes the meat it feeds on.” When the Caution
was within some ten or twelve miles of a certain
town in Indiana, it was compelled to pass close to
the shore, and Ralph could not but observe the situation
of a wood boat that lay between it and the
Caution.

The lubberly boat alluded to was loaded down
nearly to the water's edge, having in, as was afterwards
ascertained, twelve cords of wood and two
feather beds, together with three lads who were navigating
her. Ralph was standing on the guards
looking at the waves the Caution threw from her as
they rolled in to shore, when he caught a view of
this wood boat. It instantly struck him, inexperienced
as he was in matters of this kind, that the
wood boat would probably be sunk. The Caution
darted by it rapidly, and her waves tossed their
white tops towards it as though they were exulting
in their power to destroy. Ralph thought he saw
the waves leap into the boat, and one of the boys
quit the oar and commence bailing, but while he
gazed to satisfy himself, the boat became the more
indistinct from the distance, until it was lost to view.
At the town the Caution stopped, expecting to be detained
there two or three hours in taking in freight.
While the captain was busy at his duties, a strange-looking
personage, bent nearly double, of the masculine
gender from the dress, entered the steamer.

It is no exaggeration to say, the bend in the body
aforesaid was so great that the head upon it was not
more than a foot higher from the earth than its hips.
The individual was compelled to turn his head up,
like a terrapin, when he looked you in the face, and,
not to mend the manner of his glance certainly, one
of his eyes, the left one, glanced over the top of his
nose, as if it was taking sight at you from a double-barrel
gun, while its fellow, as if angry at the obliquity
of its brother, assumed a straight-forward,
steady stare, that did not seem addicted to expressing
the amiable. The owner of these brother
organs, whose form seemed every moment in the
act of making a profound salaam, asked the captain,
in a gentle and flattering voice, that was redolent of
as much courtesy as he could possibly assume, and
which seemed to express great respect for him, “if
he was the captain of the steamer?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the captain.

In a moment the voice and manner of the gentleman
changed, and laying his hand upon the shoulder
of the captain, he said imperatively:

“Then you must go with me right off, for I've
got an instanter forthwith agin you.”

“What do you mean?” said the captain, pushing
him by.

“It's no joke, I tell you,” was the reply, “I'm a
constable, and I've got this forthwith against you,
for sinking a wood boat; and you must go right up
to the magistrate's with me.”

“As soon as I get my cloak,” said the captain,
turning to enter the cabin for the purpose.

“I know my duty,” replied the organ of the law,
laying his hand on the arm of the captain, with the
intention of making a forcible detainder. The captain,
sans cérémonie, but laughingly, released himself
from his hold, entered the cabin and informed the
passengers of the circumstances, requesting them to
accompany him to the magistrate's, as their testimony
might be needed.

Arrived at the magistrate's office, they beheld
that worthy in his chair of justice, ready to dispense
its dictates. He was a plump, good-natured looking
man; wearing an air of becoming dignity. Knowing
something, from what he had seen in his uncle's
office, of magistrates and law, Ralph advised the
captain to obtain a legal character to see him
through. With the frank and brave impulses
which characterised the captain of the Caution,
who was truly a gentleman, he was for going into
trial, and trusting to the justice of his cause. Ralph
had much difficulty in persuading him to have a
lawyer. However, he at last consented, and Ralph
started to drum one of them up. On inquiring for
the one, who, he was told, was the 'cutest there,
Ralph learned he had but a short time previous quit
the practice, and was then a president of a bank
in the town. He had made quite a fortune in a few
years. Ralph, nevertheless, determined to see him,
as he thought the proceedings on the part of the boat-men
unjustifiable. Escorted by a volunteer, who

very evidently had been sacrificing to the jolly god,
Ralph entered the bank. There he saw the quondam
lawyer, and hurriedly narrated to him the case. He
said, that he had quit the practice, and Ralph could
not awaken a particle of interest in him, in the case.
Ralph thought, from what he had heard, that on the
Kentucky side, with a Kentuckian, it might have
been done. At last, a lawyer was obtained; a young
member of the bar, but who is esteemed by all his
acquaintances, a man of talents, and chivalrous
bearing. When under the wing of council, the captain
made his appearance at the magisterial bar.
The plaintiff, a tumid, corpulent creature, with here
and there a big drop of perspiration on his forehead,
said he was not ready for trial; and by consent of
all parties, the case was put off for an hour.

At the time appointed, captain, lawyer, and most of
the passengers, stood in the presence of the hooshier
Daniel. There was the plaintiff, with his three boys-boat-men
for witnesses—and a marvellous tale told
they. They averred, that they believed the pilot of
the steamer meant to sink them, and that sink they
did—there could be little doubt of the latter assertion,
for their apparel looked as though it had encountered
the deluge. The first witness, a lad, considered
himself a “river character,” because he had
boated a year when quite a boy, and in the last two
years, had been about a month at it, in the employ
of the plaintiff, in which time, he had three times
assisted in bringing a wood-boat to town from the

house of his employer, five miles up the river. He
knew, too, the channel the steamboats always took;
and he asserted plumply, that no steamboat, in the
present state of the water, ever held the course of
the Caution, which course was taken, he said, to
sink the wood-boat; and that the crew laughed
heartily when they succeeded. In one part of his
testimony, he swore, that when the boat sunk, she
was fifteen or twenty feet from shore: and he afterwards
said, he jumped to shore when it was sinking!
thereby conveying the opinion, Ralph thought,
to the credulous, that he possessed the boots of the
seven-league-stepping giant. The next witness was
a son of the plaintiff; and when asked of his cunning
in the craft, he made himself appear a perfect Jacob
Faithful, and daddy as old Tom. He said, he knew
as much about wood-boating as the next one; expatiated
upon the loss of the feather-beds—he was
a sleepy looking dog—and maintained that he
wouldn't have got as wet as he was, for two dollars
and a half. His face being scarred, his lawyer asked
him, expecting it was bruised in the mishap, what
harmed it, (and the limb of the law stared with a
foolish face of wonder, that Liston would have envied,)
when the boy replied—“he once had had the
small-pox!” The damages were laid at fifty dollars.
The third witness being very young, though old
enough to tell of that disaster,
was not examined by the plaintiff's counsel. The
Captain, Ralph thought, made out a clear case.
The pilot swore that he was keeping the channel,
and that he had good reason to know it, as he had
once been aground near the scene of the sinking.
In speaking of the channel and the direction of the
boat, Ralph was struck with the ease with which
the pilot recounted the landmarks and the names of
the points, and gave descriptions of the bars. This
man too, Ralph was told, would pilot the boat down
to New Orleans, and could describe with accuracy—
as indeed he must from his vocation, the wonder is,
that he kept so many land and water-marks in mind
—every portion of the winding way of the Ohio and
Mississippi.

A farmer, in the neighbourhood of the town, of respectability
and wealth, who was familiar with the
portion of the river spoken of, as he had often navigated
it in his own flat-boats ladened with wheat,
testified that just before the accident occurred, he
was standing on deck, and remarked to some one beside
him, that the pilot knew his business. He
thought the wood-boat was very much overloaded,
and said the track kept by the Caution was the
usual one, to his certain knowledge, as he had often
seen steamboats on it. Other witnesses were called
who testified to the same. The Captain's counsel
made a very able and convincing argument in his
behalf. But the plaintiff's counsel was to be heard,
and of all the orators Ralph thought he had ever

listened to, in certain qualities of that divine art,
qualities of which we discern nothing in Demosthenes
or Cicero, and which are, of course, modern
improvements, this worthy took the lead. Certain
steamers in plying from Louisville to Cincinnati had,
it seems, at least in the opinion of the good citizens
of this town, committed many outrages on the rights
and privileges of the good people, particularly the
flatboat-men of Indiana. There was prevailing,
therefore a great excitement against them, and the
sanctum of magisterial justice was thronged with a
motley crowd, panting for retributive justice against
all steamboats, which, like Gulliver in the court of the
Lilliputians, without being moved by his good intentions,
had scattered their water to the injury, and
against the dignity of the flatboats. Of this excitement
the plaintiff's lawyer, who seemed after a
fashion a clever enough counsel in both senses of
the word, took a shrewd advantage. He did not
pretend to argue the case at all. He denounced
steamboats as great big, puffed up aristocrats, who
considered all the river theirs, and who held it a mere
circumstance to ride over shoals of little democratic
flatboats. “Yes, sir,” said he, we quote, as above,
his very language, “these big-bellied aristocrats kick
out of their way, our poor son of a — (he said
plainly what may not be written plainly,) of a democratic
wood-boat, without condescending to give
them notice to keep out—but the law, sir, the law,
sir, it's democratic, sir—yes, sir, I say it's democratic,
and I'll show you, sir, that these puffed up
aristocrats have got to keep out of the way of the
little democrats, and if they sink 'em, sir, they've
got to pay for it.” The Captain's lawyer requested
him to produce the law, and he wound up with a
flourish upon democrats and aristocrats, and started
to his office, like fox-hound from the slip, for it. In
five or ten minutes he returned—all the time silence
reigned, and expectation was on tip-toe—and began
turning over the magistrate's books, to find the book
which it appears some one had abducted from his
office. Ralph thought if folks had purloined his law,
he, by hook or by crook, should obtain some too.
He found not the law in the magistrate's books, and
the opposing lawyer advised him to take out a
search-warrant for it. “I lost the book,” said he,
in reply, “some one's taken it, it's no matter,” and
the magistrate proceeded to give judgment.

After a long exposition of his views of the case,
certainly not so lucid as would have been Marshall's,
he decided that the steamboat was bound either to
have stopped her paddles, and float by the wood boat,
or to have sheered off and passed over the bar, which
the pilot swore he had hugged close to the shore to
avoid, and on which the magistrate believed there
was water enough for the Caution to have passed
over, without any danger of grounding. Therefore,
in the opinion of the magistrate, as the Caution did
not do either of these things—and as the boat was
sunk—but as the captain was not morally in fault,

he could not give the plaintiff the whole amount of
the damage proven, but decreed that he should pay
twenty dollars.

When the case was decided, Ralph sauntered
through the town, which is beautifully situated, and
rapidly improving. The quay is a very fine one, or
rather will be, as it is not yet finished. It is made
sloping to the water's edge, like that of Cincinnati,
and will be covered with gravel, which it is believed
will form a macadamized landing. The population,
Ralph was informed, is approaching three thousand.

Amused with the incidents of the day which had
whiled him from his melancholy, Ralph rejoiced that
he had attended the trial, and taken an interest in the
scene. The captain having been drawn off from his
duties by the trial, together with most of the crew,
who were in attendance as witnesses, should they be
wanted, the Caution was delayed in consequence
much longer than was expected. It was supposed
she would not be able to start until late on the morning
of the morrow.

The captain and Ralph, therefore, together with
several other passengers, accepted the invitation of
the lawyer of the Caution, a most gentlemanly and
intellectual man, to crack a bottle of champaign with
him.

In the evening they repaired to his house, under
his escort and that of his brother-in-law, and found
he was a husband-bachelor, his lady being absent

with her child, on a visit to Augusta, Kentucky,
where a year previously they had been married.

This Ralph regretted, as he remembered that one
of his classmates at college, a young buck-eye, had
spoken of her as a most fascinating and accomplished
lady.