USA > Ohio > Hamilton County > Cincinnati > The Cincinnati miscellany, or, Antiquities of the West, and pioneer history and general and local statistics. Volume II > Part 48
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flocks of small green parrots are to be seen-not many pigeons-some few quails-considerable numbers of pheasants-abundance of eagles and and ravens, but very few crows and black birds. The wild animals arc bears, panthers, wolves, wild cats, foxcs, very few rabbits, deer, buffalo, moose deer, which are commonly called clks, --- but in the Delaware language moose-some few squirrels; and plenty of raccoons, beavers and otters. Thus I have described this country and that of the Indians, together with some remarka- ble occurrences, and would now leave the reader; but as God was pleased to bring me through some very trying scenes, I have thought proper to communicate the same. Before doing so I wish to remark that I made many inquiries for the Welsh Indians-all accounts pointed out their residence beyond the Mississippi in the latitude of forty degrecs, or thereabouts. But the accounts are so various that it is a doubt with me whether there is any such people on the con- tinent; but if there is, a few years will discover them, for we gain knowledge fast of this western world. Friday, March 19th, I left the Ohio, and slept alone in the solitary, wild wilderness, among wild beasts, but God kept me safe and undisturbed.
On the 25th of March, I was crossing the Al- legheny mountains and the snow was nine inches deep. Came to Old Town the 28th, and preached in the evening at Col. Cresap's. On my way in the following weck, was taken with the pleu- risy, and lay at David Bowen's, west side of the Connicocheague. On Saturday, 30th of April, had blood let and gained so much relief that in the afternoon I fell into a pleasant sleep, and had such a representation of the state of my family at home, that when I awoke I told the people that I believed my son was dead, and I found when I came home that he had died about that very time. From that time my spirit sank in me with unaccountable sadness. I would infer from this circumstance that God may reveal some things in the slecp, but in common no re- gard ought to be placed in slumbering imagina- tions. After recruiting I started home-passing through New Castle county, Delaware, having some business that way. On Thursday 22d, at a town called Chester, about sixtcen miles from Philadelphia, I was informed that my favourite son was dead. Though I much expected it, the tidings struek me through the very heart with such sorrow that my soul was ready to expire. Sorrowfully I rode to Philadelphia, where I was prevailed on to stay over Sabbath. I had buried two children before, but as Jacob's heart and life were bound up in Benjamin, so were mine in this son.
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Recollections of the Last Sixty Years. BY J. JOHNSTON, EsQ., of Piqua. UPPER PIQUA, Nov. 26th, 1845.
MR. C. CIST, Sir-
In conformity to a promise made you in Cin- cinnati, last summer, that I would write you some account of my rambles over the mountains and throughout the west, more than a half cen- tury ago, having some weeks of leisure, during a sojourn at the Harrodsburg Springs, in August and September last, I employed the time in put- ting on paper what had then occurred to my mind. In the hurry of packing up my baggage, or in the confusion at Frankfort on the occasion of the funeral of the remains of Boone and his wife, I lost my manuscript, and since my return to Piqua, I have been so much occupied with the affairs of the farm, together with occasional bad health, that I could not until the present redeem my promise.
I was at Carlisle, in Pennsylvania, at sixteen years old, behind the counter in the store of a good honest Presbyterian Elder, Judge John Creigh, when it first entered my head to become an adventurer in the far west. Many of the troops who perished in the defeat of St. Clair, in 1791, rendesvoused at Carlisle, were there dis- ciplined, prepared for the field, and marched west- ward. The United States owned extensive grounds and barracks there, erected during the Revolutionary War, and used at the present day as a military depot. Here some of the offi- cers returned after the carnage at which is now called Recovery. Among these was Major Thomas Butler, who was shot in the leg, and who commanded all the troops collected at Car- lisle, for the army under Gen'l. Wayne. I thus early became familiar with persons who had been in the west, heard the beauty and extent of the country described; its large lakes and rivers, boundless forests, extensive prairies; and I was determined to behold with my eyes what had been so often described in my hearing. Accord- ingly the son of my patron, Judge Creigh, and myself, set out about January 7, 1793, for the Ohio, with a mercantile establishment. I crossed the mountains on foot, with the waggons, for the protection of the property, young Creigh, having preceded me on horseback to make ar- rangements for transporting the goods down the river. After a tedious and harassing journey in the midst of winter, through frost and snow, averaging twelve to fourteen miles a day, for there were no turnpike roads then in Pennsyl- vania, I reached Pittsburgh in safety with my goods, and descended the Ohio to Fort Washing- ton, now Cincinnati, without encountering the the smallest accident. We took in for a passen-
ger at Pittsburgh, a French lady from Paris, in pursuit of her husband, an emigrant some timo settled at the French grant-Gallipolis. The meeting of the parties in that wild country was interesting and affecting in the extreme. Pre- vious to the finding of her husband, the lady's caresses were all bestowed upon a favourite dog, which had accompanied her from her own fair France. He eat with her and slept with her; but on meeting with her long lost husband, the poor dog, as was to be expected, was no lenger noti- ced. He evidently felt the neglect, and by his looks and manner sensibly rebuked his mistress: We were detained a day and night at the station, to share in the joy of our passenger, for we had treated her kindly, and she was very grateful. In 1793, the French inhabitants at Gallipolis had a fort built, and a regular military organization for their safety from the Indians. The officers wore blue as uniform, with white facings, after the fashion of their own country. In the fall of 1794, in ascending the river to Pittsburgh, I called at Gallipolis to see our former friend madame; found her in good health, much altered in dress and appearance, alarmed about the Indi- ans, tired of the country, and urgent upon her husband to abandon it and return to France. All kinds of merchandise were high in price, and in demand at Fort Washington. 'The army was cantoned at Hobson's Choice, just below where is now the city of Cincinnati. Money plenty :- the currency, with the exception of some specie; was all of the paper of the old Bank of the Uni- ted States. A great proportion of the circulation was in bills of three dollars, three dollars being then the monthly pay of a private soldier. It was a common expression with the troops to call the bank bills oblongs. This was more especially the case at the gambling tables. Gambling was much practised among the officers and retainers of the army. The principal merchants and tra- ders with the army at Cincinnati, in 1793 and 4, were Abijah Hunt and brothers, Smith and Find- lay, the late Gen. James Findlay, O. Ormsby, Tate, afterwards Bullock, Ferguson, Wilson, Creigh, and others not remembered. Traders with the produce of the upper country were con- stantly coming and going. The pack horses, for transporting supplies to Forts Hamilton, St. Clair, Jefferson and Greenville, were all pro- cured in Kentucky. Captain Benham had the command of the pack-horse department, and was called pack-horse master general. He was assist- ed by John Sutherland, Wallen, and others, as subordinate captains, each having the care and management of 40 horses with the requisite num- ber of divisions. This branch of the service was very laborious and dangerous, the drivers being
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often killed by the Indians. Ox teams were also employed in transporting supplies to the out posts above named. Several generally went to- gether and were protected by escorts of troopers or dragoons. Pack-horse companies often went un- protected, because they went quicker and were not so liable to be attacked by the Indians.
A certain Scott Traverse owned an ox team, with wagon, frequently passing alone as far as Greenville, unharmed. He never would wait for an escort. Go always when he was ready, he prided himself on his good fortune. At last, on one of his trips, near Fort Hamilton, he was overtaken by the Indians and himself and his oxen killed, his wagon burnt, and the loading carried off and destroyed. He was often cau- tioned against his fool hardiness.
Elliott, the partner of Elliott and Williams, the army contractors, was killed in the summer of 1794, between Cincinnati and Fort Hamilton. He was on his way coming in from the head quarters of the army, at Greenville, having, as was reported, settled up all his business previous to the commencement of the campaign, and was not to revisit the army any more. The body when recovered was abused and mutilated by the Indians. It was brought into Cincinnati and in- tered. I think it was in June, 1794, I went to Greenville in an escort commanded by Major Winston of the dragoons. There were several ox teams, with pack horses, quarter masters' men, and others along; some on foot and some mount- ed. The late Daniel Conner of Cincinnati, and myself, were together on foot. The escort was large, extending on the road a considerable dis- tance. A few miles in advance of Griffin's sta- tion the front of the line was fired on by the In- dians, and several men killed and scalped by them, before the dragoons came up. They had detained at the station, and not a man of them came up until the mischief was all over. The officer in command was blamed, but not brought to court martial. Had his force been properly distributed in front and rear no attack would have been made. No doubt at all the Indians, as was their constant practice, had their scouts watching our progress, and finding the dragoons remiss in their duty they availed themselves ac- cordingly. They got little or no booty I often learned from the Indians in after times, that no detachment of troops ever left the Ohio without their progress being daily watched by the Indian spies.
Kentucky against the World.
When I refered, last week, to the fine steer DISTRIBUTION, raised in Ohio, and recently bought by Messrs. Wunder & Butcher, for the approach-
ing holydays, as having no rival of his kind in the United States, I was not aware that an equally remarkable animal from Kentucky would be here to divide public attention and admiration in this line.
It is worth a walk the whole length of the city, to see a remarkable heifer raised by Mr. Roberts, of Kentucky, for which two hundred dollars has been paid by the same persons, Vanaken Wunder and John Butcher, for the purpose of gracing their stalls during the Christmas and New Years festivals. She weighs sixteen hundred pounds, and has been pronounced both the fattest and largest heifer in the world, by those who are familiar with the subject. They may both be seen at the stables of Mr. Isaac Marchant, cor- ner of Ninth and Sycamore streets.
I learn that the BERRESFORDS, a family of our oldest established victualars, will have an ample supply of splendid beef and other meats during the festive season which closes the year, which I propose to notice more particularly next week.
Sleepy Worshipers.
Mr. - , a mason by trade, having worked hard all the week, was disposed while at church on Sunday, to take a snooze. He had kept awake until the preacher had progressed some way in his sermon, when he fell into a sound sleep, and dreaming in his soporific obliviousness that he was about his work, cried out in a sten- torian voice-"Mort! more Mort! ! " The effect upon the congregation, says the Portland Argus, may be imagined.
I recollect a worthy member of the Society of Friends in Philadelphia, named Hunson Waters, who kept a dry goods store on Third, between Market and Arch streets. He was a man of lethargic habit, and of course, easily overcome by sleep while attending the silent meeting of lis sect. One hot summer day, while at his post at meeting, he had been full of some business reve- rie, and fancying himself at his own store, taking his yearly inventory, he bawled out to the scan- dal of his brethren and his own deep mortifica- tion-" Three thousand pieces short yellow nan- kins; five shillings per piece; set that down John."
Ancient Bills of Lading.
The following curious document is worthy of special notice, on various accounts. It serves, in the first place, to shew that in 1729, while the House of Burgesses, in Virginia, was remonstra- ting against the introduction of slaves into Vir- ginia, that New England shipping was carrying on a traffic in negroes. The continued reference to the grace of God, and the blending piety with commerce in this bill of lading, was perfectly
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characteristic of the region and the date to which it refers, although similar language in such docu- ments would now pass for arrant hypocrisy.
The document is perfectly authentic and verba- tim, as respects the language:
Shipped by the Grace of GOD, in good Order and well conditioned, by William Pepperell on his account and risque, in and upon the good Briga, called, the Culner,-whereof is Master under GOD for this present Voyage, Walter Os- borne, and now riding at Anchor in the harbor of Piscataqua,-and by GOD'S Grace bound for Martinique, To say, ONE NEGRO MAN, call'd James, Being Marked and Numbered as in the Margent, and there to be delivered in like Order and well Conditioned, at the aforesaid Port of Martinique (the Danger of the Seas only except- ed) unto Capt. Benj'a. Clark, or to his Assigns, he or they paying Freight for said Goods Noth- ing, with Primage and Average accustomed, In witness whereof the Master or Purser of the said Briga hath affirmed to two Bills of Lading, all of this Tenor and Date, one of which two Bills be- ing Accomplished, the other to stand void. And so GOD send the good Briga to her desired Port in safety, AMEN.
Duted in Piscataqua, the 9th day of Feb'ua., 1729.
WALTER OSBORN.
I have seen bills of lading from Liverpool, England, dated as late as 1807, very much in the same strain; and a remarkable one of the sort may be seen preserved in a frame, at the office of the Firemens' Insurance Company, corner of Main and Front streets.
A Story of Pocket Picking,
The adroitness of the nimble fingered gentry who make pocket picking their profession is often a matter of astonishment to the unpractised. We have heard of a case which illustrates the legerdemain of this wide spread and dangerous species of villany, more thoroughly than any other we have heard of. It may be relied upon as authentic.
A few weeks since, a gentleman at the Astor House, in New York, suddenly missed a gold watch, which was worth more to him than it could be to any one else. He marvelled much at its absence, for he knew he had only been in and out of the office and reading room of that hotel since he noted the hour by it. In the hope of recovering it, he advertised his loss and offered a reward of fifty dollars. The same day he re- ceived a note, informing him that he could have his watch by calling at a certain house in an ob- scure part of the city. After some little hesita- tion he resolved to go. The watch was too valuable to him to be given up without at least this attempt to recover it. So he went. His call at the door was promptly answered by a very gentlemanly looking person, who in reply to his inquiries, replied that he had in his possession the advertised watch, and that on payment of the of- fered reward he would deliver it up. The loser promised to pay the fifty dollars provided he was convinced the watch was his. It was exhibited, and the gentleman recognised it at once, paid the reward, and gladly placed the recovered treasure in its place in his vest pocket. As he was turn- ing to go away he remarked,
" I am glad, as you may suppose, to get my
watch back again, but I should really be pleased to know how you took it from me."
" That I will inform you," readily replied the pick pocket. "Do you remember holding an. animated conversation with two other gentlemen in the reading room of the Astor on the morning. you lost your watch."
" I do," replied the loser.
" Well, do you not also remember that a gen- tleman who stood close by, left his newspaper, drew near, and finally joined in the discussion." " Very distinctly," replied the other, "and also that he engaged in it with much warmth."
" Precisely," continued the narrator, " and do you not remember that he at one time, in his earnestness, tapped you two or three times on the left breast, thus?" (suiting the action to the word.)
" Yes," replied the gentleman.
" Then I took your watch," said the other, and turning, shut the door and disappeared.
The gentleman returned to the Astor, musing. on this strange occurrence, and while relating it to some of his wondering friends, was astonished to find that his watch was again missing. When the adroit knight of the nimble fingers described to him how he once filched from him his watch, he took it again! So the gentleman finally lost his watch, after having paid to the thief the re- ward for its recovery!
Responsibilities.
When a Brazilian introduces you to an ac- quaintance, he says, " This is my friend Mr. so and so. I will be responsible for any thing he steals." Such a responsibility would be danger- ous in some places.
I should have thought this a caricature, but for a circumstance of a kindred nature, which it re- calls to my remembrance.
Many years ago I was a clerk to an individual, whose great infirmity was a suspicious nature .. He appeared to have no confidence at all in man- kind. On one occasion a gentleman from the south, a wealthy planter, who had bought a large bill of goods at the store, after taking supper with my employer, was spending the evening in the counting room. After sitting to a late hour, the gentleman rose to depart. The counting room communicated with the store, through a long and dark passage, and his path to the street was through the store. Handing me a candle my employer addressed me-" Mr. Cist will you be good enough to light Mr. - to the door:'4 then sinking his voice to a whisper, audible but to me --- " and see that he steals nothing by the way."
A Becollection of the Stage ..
William B. Wood, Esq., formerly manager of the Philadelphia Theatre, took a benefit at the Baltimore Theatre, after having been forty-seven years on the stage, and always sustaining the character of a gentleman. His father taught school in the large building in the rear of Trinity Church, and young Wood was usher. He was afterwards a clerk in the auction store of Hoffman
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& Gloss. He is about seventy-four years of age.
Forty years ago I saw William B. Wood and Syencer H. Cone performing in the same piece on the boards of the Philadelphia stage. Until I saw this paragraph I was not aware that Mr. W. was still living. Cone soon after left the stage, united with the Baptist Church under the care of Dr. Staughton, an eminent divine of that de- nomination, prepared for the ministry, and has been ever since a successful and venerated min- ister of the gospel in the City of New York. How widely different has been the course of these men, once rival candidates for public fa- vour. I cannot but believe Mr. Cone made the wiser choice. Mr. Wood's private character was always considered irreproachable; but at the close of a long life, can he look back to the influ- once he has exerted on society with the same consciousness that his cotemporary must feel, that the community has been the wiser and better for his existence?
A Fairy Story.
It may be considered impertinent, were I to explain what is meant by a changeling; both Shakspeare and Spenser have already done so, and who is there unacquainted with the Midsum- mer Night's Dream, and the Fairy Queen?
Now Mrs. Sullivan fancied that her youngest child had been changed by " faries' theft," to use Spenser's words, and certainly appearances war- ranted such a conclusion; for in one night her healthy blue eyed boy had become shrivelled úp into almost nothing, and never ceased squalling and crying. This naturally made poor Mrs. Sullivan very unhappy; and all the neighbours, by way of comforting her, said, that her own child was beyond any kind of a doubt, with the good people, and that one of themselves had been put in its place.
Mrs. Sullivan, of course, could not disbelieve what every one told her, but she did not wish to hurt the thing; for although its face was so with- ered, and its body wasted away to a mere skele- ton, it had still a strong resemblance to her own boy: she, therefore, could not find it in her heart to roast it alive on the griddle, or to burn its nose off with the red hot tongs, or to throw it out in the snow on the road-side, notwithstanning these and several like proceedings were strongly re- commended to her for the recovery of her child.
One day who should Mrs. Sullivan meet but a cunning woman, well known about the country by the name of Ellen Leah (or Ellen Gray.) She had the gift, however she got it, of telling where the dead were, and what was good for the rest of their souls; and could charm away warts and wens, and do a great many wonderful things of the same nature.
" You're in grief this morning, Mrs. Sullivan," were the first words of Ellen Leah to her.
" You may say that Ellen," said Mrs. Sulli- van, " and good cause I have to be in grief, for there was my own fine child whipped off from me out of his cradle, without as much as by your leave, or ask your pardon, and an ugly dony bit of shrivelled up fairy put in its place: no wonder then that you see me in grief, Ellen."
" Small blame to you, Mrs. Sullivan," said Ellen Leah; " but are you sure 'tis a fairy ?"
"Sure!" echoed Mrs. Sullivan, " sure enough am I to my sorrow, and can I doubt my own two eyes? Every mother's soul must feel for me?" " Will you take an old woman's advice?" said Ellen Leah, fixing her wild and mysterious gaze upon the unhappy mother; and after a pause, she added, " but you'll call it foolish ?"
" Can you get me back my child-my own. child, Ellen?" said Mrs. Sullivan, with great en- ergy.
" If you do as I bid you," returned Ellen Leah, " you'll know." Mrs. Sullivan was silent in expectation, and Ellen continued. " Put down the big pot, full of water, on the fire; and make it boil like mad; then get a dozen new laid eggs, break them, and keep the shells, but throw away the rest; when that is done, put the shells in the. pot of boiling water, and you will soon know whether its your own boy or a fairy. If you find that it is a fairy in the cradle, take the red hot poker and cram it down his ugly throat, and you will not have much trouble with him after that, I promise you."
Home went Mrs. Sullivan, and did as Ellen Leah desired. She put the pot on the fire, and plenty of turf under it, and set the water to boil- ing at such a rate that if ever water was red hot -it surely was.
The child was lying, for a wonder, quite easy and quiet in the cradle, every now and then cock- ing his eye, that would twinkle as keen as a star in a frosty night, over at the great fire, and the big pot upon it; and he looked on with great at- tention at Mrs. Sullivan breaking the eggs, and putting down the egg-shells to boil. At last he asked with the voice of a very old man, " What are you adoing mammy?"
Mrs. Sullivan's heart, as she said herself, was up in her mouth ready to choke her, at hearing the child speak. But she contrived to put the poker in the fire, and to answer, without making any wonder at the words, " I'm brewing, a vick" (my son.)
"And what are you brewing, mammy?" said the little imp, whose supernatural gift of speech now proved beyond question that he was a fairy substitute.
" I wish the poker was red hot," thought Mrs. Sullivan; but it was a large one, and took a long time heating; so she determined to keep him in talk until the poker was in a proper state to thrust down his throat, and therefore repeated the question.
" Is it what I'm brewing, a rick," said she, " you want to know ?"
" Yes, mammy; what are you brewing?" re- turned the fairy.
" Egg-shells, a vick," said Mrs. Sullivan.
" Oh!" shrieked the imp, starting up in the cradle, and clapping his hands together, "I'm fifteen hundred years in the world; I never was at a brewery of egg-shells before!"
The poker was by this time quite red, and Mrs. Sullivan seizing it, ran furiously towards the cradle; somehow or other her foot slipped, and she fell flat on the floor, and the poker flew out of her hand to the other end of the house. How- ever, she got up without much loss of time, and went to the cradle intending to pitch the wicked thing that was in it into the pot of boiling water, when there she saw her own child in a sweet sleep, one of his soft round arms resting upon the -
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