Читать книгу Gleanings by the Way - John A. Clark - Страница 15

Table of Contents

Travelling companions—Steamboats on the Ohio—The Elk—The Ohio river—The Harmonists—Steubenville—Wheeling—Marietta—Portsmouth—Kentucky—The dead steamboat captain—Kentucky funeral.

On board the Elk, Monday Evening, June 19.

I have two exceedingly agreeable travelling companions. The one, Mr. B——, who started with a special view of accompanying me in this tour. He is a young gentleman of mature intellect, accomplished education, and ardent piety. The other friend we fell in with on our way to Pittsburg. Mr. F—— is a merchant, residing in Boston, a devoted member of the Congregational Church, a man of business, and of sterling Christian principle, possessing more of "the milk of human kindness" than ordinarily falls to the lot of mortals. The presence of these delightful companions has taken away much of the solitariness one feels in having a space of so many miles thrown between him and his home.

Whoever has travelled on any of the western rivers knows something about the annoyances connected with western steamboats—the drinking—the swearing—the gambling. We were induced to take our passage in "The Elk," from the fact that it was the only boat that was going down the river this morning. We soon found that our boat was not of the first order; our captain, however, appears to be one of the most quiet, taciturn, and unmoveable men we ever met.

It was about ten o'clock, that we found our boat pushing off from the shore, and our backs turned upon the clouds of smoke that hung in dense masses over what has been called the Birmingham of America. As we stood on the deck, we seemed at the moment of starting enclosed by a forest of dark tunnels peering up from countless steamers lying along the shore. More than forty of these were clustered together in the same group where "The Elk" was stationed. It is said there cannot be less than seven hundred steamboats moving on these western and south-western rivers.

We were fully in the stream!—We began to feel that we were borne on the flowing bosom of the Ohio! The luxury of that moment was worth travelling four hundred miles to enjoy! What thronging emotions then came rushing upon our minds! We remembered whither this stream was bearing us—away from our friends—perhaps never to return! We thought of the vast territory it watered—its majestic length—the scenes of Indian warfare that had been acted upon its shores and on its surface, long before the axe of the white man had felled a single tree in those vast and unbroken forests that stood upon its banks, and were reflected from its mirrored surface! It was even then the beautiful river, as the name Ohio denotes. It is said that "the line of beauty" is not a straight but waving line. If so, this river is richly entitled to its name. From first to last, it moves in "the line of beauty." So winding is its course that we usually do not see, as we are passing along upon it, more than a half or quarter of a mile in advance of us, and often not so far. Thus we see it in distinct sections, each section resembling a beautiful little lake, surrounded by its own sweet and peculiar scenery—shut in by its verdant and variegated banks and wood-covered hills, and ornamented by one or two, and often several little green islets, around which the parted waters wind romantically.

We passed the settlement of the Harmonists, or Economists, as they are frequently called. This people are the followers of Rapp, and reside at a town called Economy, about fifteen miles below Pittsburg. They also form a singular instance of the power of delusion. The people belonging to this community are principally German emigrants, extremely ignorant, and, therefore, more easily controlled by a shrewd and cunning leader. Rapp professes to be a prophet sent from God, and gifted with the high privilege of holding such constant communication with heaven, as to receive from thence directions how to regulate and govern all their affairs.—He therefore enjoins upon every individual belonging to the community, entire, passive submission, and implicit obedience to his orders.

This self-constituted ruler claims to be their sole religious instructor. The people usually assemble on the Sabbath, when he speaks to them, what it concerns them to know in relation to the Supreme Being and his Prophet—and then gives them directions about their labour for the ensuing week, reminding them of the great importance of harmony and economy, assuring them, that both of these will be effectually secured if they undeviatingly follow his directions.

Though they have no outward ordinances, they make great account of an annual festival—the Harvest Home. At the observance of this festival, after immense preparation in the way of providing all manner of good things to eat and drink, not less than six hours are spent at the table—which are occupied alternately in eating, singing, and praying. The above particulars I received from several different, but well informed individuals, residing at Pittsburg.

In the course of the day we passed Steubenville, pleasantly situated on the river. I had barely time during the landing of passengers to ascend the hill, and look into one of its principal streets. Its houses, like those of Pittsburg, bore the dingy stain so common to all this bituminous coal region. I wished to have met the Rev. Mr. M——, of this place, with whom I had no personal acquaintance, but in whom I felt a particular interest on account of the silent and powerful influence he exerted in the institution where he finished his literary studies, in commending godliness and rebuking sin, by a holy, spotless, and unblemished life. The savour of his name still remained at that institution several years subsequent, at the time when I was passing through my preparatory studies there. I found upon inquiry that the same simplicity of faith, and singleness of mind, and devoted holiness of life, characterized his labours on the banks of the Ohio, which imparted such a charm and moral power to his conduct as an academical student. There is nothing, after all, that can place such a mighty moral lever in a man's hands, as simple-hearted piety—decided holiness of heart and life.

We reached Wheeling just at sunset, and made our arrangements to remain there through the night, with a view of taking the stage next morning to pass into the interior of Ohio, making Gambier one of the points at which we should stop. There having fallen heavy rains, however, the state of the roads was such that the project was abandoned, and we determined to keep on in the Elk. We felt some pleasure in being permitted to spend an hour or two within the limits of the "old dominion," for it was the first time that either of us had trod upon Virginia soil.

Tuesday, June 20th, Cabin of the Elk, Passing down the Ohio.

I know of nothing more delightful than to sit at one's ease, and be wafted down such a beautiful stream as this, winding its graceful and circuitous way through groves and grass-covered fields, and beauteous woodland scenes. Occasionally we see the banks surmounted with lofty bluffs that lift their proud summits up towards the clouds—and then succeeded by bottom land studded with trees that bend over to dip their pendent boughs in the glassy surface that sweetly reflects them. As one sits in a sheltered nook in the cabin, gliding down such a stream, with such a scenery around him, and feeling the cool refreshing breeze fanning his fevered brow, and imparting vigour and new elasticity to his enervated frame, he must be very stupid, or very depraved, if his heart is not drawn upwards and made to throb with gratitude to the glorious Framer of this garnished and goodly scene!

One acquires as he proceeds westward, largeness and expansion to his ideas: his mind is carried out of its former habits of thought, and swells away into the vast dimensions of the majestic rivers, and boundless tracts of country, over which his eye expatiates. Only think of sailing beyond the Mississippi, in a steamboat, still westward more than two thousand miles, and find your course at every step skirted with the most rich and fertile lands which stretch away interminably before you!

We passed this day some interesting towns. Marietta appears beautiful from the river, is neatly built, and bears the marks of thrift and enterprise. Point Pleasant and Guyandot in Virginia, Gallipolis and Burlington in Ohio, are interesting points.

Wednesday, June 21.

We found ourselves this morning lying at the shore of Portsmouth, with the borders of Kentucky on our left. Being detained several hours we took a view of the town, found a neat little Episcopal Church, and had an interview with its humble, worthy, and devoted minister, the Rev. Mr. S——. In all this western world we find that ministers have many trials and discouragements. The people are more intent upon every thing else than that of saving their souls. We here met, to our great delight and surprise, the Rev. W. J——, and his lady, on their way to Louisville, his future field of labour.

The river continued to present us with the same beautiful views, varied now and then by loftier ridges of head-land on the Kentucky side. It was about two o'clock, P. M., when we saw on the Kentucky shore in a solitary place, a house surrounded by a large collection of people. Our boat seemed to sympathize in the scene before us, for it was immediately arrested in its course, and the captain put on shore. I have before spoken of the captain of our steamer, as remarkably quiet, taciturn, and even tempered. We did not know that the placidity of his natural temperament could be moved, or his tongue unloosed by any earthly power, till the second night after our embarkation, when we were awakened from our sleep by the tones of boisterous anger, and volleys of oaths that almost froze our blood. It was our captain chiding his men. We were now to see him under new circumstances. As I have said, we dropped him on the Kentucky shore about two o'clock, while the boat went on to a small village a few miles below. We were told by some of the hands on board that the captain had stopped on account of the severe illness of his brother-in-law, who was the owner of the Elk, and its former commander. The order was to wait until he joined us. The Rev. Mr. J. and myself improved the time of this delay by clambering up to the summit of one of the loftiest hills in the neighbourhood, where we had a fine view of the river and the surrounding scenery. When the signal for our boat's departure was sounded, we perceived, as we were going on board, a coffin covered with black velvet. We now learned for the first time that our boat was to go back to the point where we dropped our captain, and remain there until the funeral rites of his brother-in-law, now deceased, were performed. It was in vain to remonstrate, so we submitted to the delay with as much cheerfulness as possible.—To improve my time I determined to go on shore and witness a funeral among the yeomanry of Kentucky. The steamboat had been drawn up to the bank under the verdant canopy of a cluster of umbrageous trees. After ascending the bank, which might have been some fifty feet from the water to its summit, we found ourselves in the midst of a beautiful grove, where the underwood had been cut away, and the earth was carpeted with green sward. Most of our passengers having landed, the coffin was brought out from the boat and conveyed towards a cottage that stood some two hundred yards distant. We all then moved on towards the house. The first thing that attracted our attention in approaching this rural dwelling, was the number of horses fastened to the fences, and equipped most of them with ladies' riding saddles.—Around and within the house we found a large company assembled. I was sorry to see so many rotund and rubicund faces among the men, bearing unerring indications of intemperance. The fair daughters of Kentucky were certainly on this occasion more happily represented than the stronger sex. They were, however, very peculiarly dressed. They generally wore a sun-bonnet, which had a long frill or flounce that hung like a shawl over their shoulders, and carried in their hands little riding whips, which left us at no loss to understand who were the riders of the caparisoned steeds that we had seen in such numbers around this house of mourning.

I pressed along through the crowd, and followed the coffin to the house with the hope of witnessing the religious exercises that I supposed would be performed on this occasion. The house consisted principally of one long large room, in a corner of which the corpse was placed. Here also the mourners sat, and the company that were collecting to attend the funeral. The coffin was brought into this room, and placed in front of the corpse, which was clad in the vestments it was to wear in its narrow house. It was immediately in the presence of the mourners, and of this promiscuous company, raised from its position and transferred to the coffin. This being done, the undertaker proceeded to fasten on the lid with the exception of the head-piece, which was separate from the other. The wife, and mother, and family friends, then moved forward, and proceeded to take leave of the unbreathing dead. I never was more struck with the power of human sympathy. At that moment many hardy, sun-burnt, iron-looking faces put on all the expression of deep and overwhelming emotion. Tears ran down cheeks that one would have thought had never been wet with such tender drops before. Even our imperturbable captain, whom we thought proof against all feeling, and almost a perfect impersonation of apathy, wept and sobbed aloud.

The coffin was then borne out into a rude open piazza or stoop in front of the house, and there left for some time till the curiosity of every gazer seemed fully glutted. Then again the near relatives came forward and kissed the dead. The widowed wife seemed almost frantic in bestowing the parting tokens of her affection upon the unbreathing body of her deceased companion. I felt obliged to turn away, for I could not endure the sight of her wild frantic manner as she clasped and kissed again and again the cold clay of her husband! This finally had a close. Then after a short pause, a female bearing in her hands a pair of shears, pressed her way through the crowd, and proceeding to the head of the coffin, took off several large locks of hair that rested on the cold forehead of the dead man. The coffin was then immediately closed, and preparation made to move towards the grave. I accosted an elderly lady that stood near me and said—

"Are we to have no religious services on this occasion?"

"No."

"Is there no minister present to officiate?"

"No," was the only reply I received.

I then turned to another and said, "Are there no ministers who reside in this part of the country?"

"None very near here," was the response.

I mentioned this conversation to my friend B—— who stood near, and observed to him that I regretted that such an opportunity should be lost, when the feelings of all were so subdued, to direct the minds of these people to the solemn realities of eternity; that even a single prayer offered up at this moment might be the means of saving a soul. He went and spoke to our captain, mentioned that there was a clergyman present, and suggested to him the expediency of inviting him to engage in some religious exercises. The captain with his usual apathy, into which he had again relapsed, replied, "I don't know whether it is worth while."

The funeral began to move off in the following order or rather disorder. First, the four bearers took the lead, carrying the coffin on two rudely hewn sticks, prepared for the occasion. Then followed four or five of the near relatives all abreast. Then came the bereaved widow, riding on horseback, and after her all the assembled crowd, male and female, hurrying on twelve or fifteen abreast of each other. The funeral train proceeded near where we landed, and, after having gone a short distance into the grove, it descended into a narrow ravine, through which run a little brook, gurgling over its pebbly bottom. When the bearers reached this brook they had no other way to proceed but to ford it; the others got over as well as they could, on logs and stones. Having ascended the opposite bank, we soon reached a well trodden path, which we followed for some short distance, and then turned abruptly into a cornfield. When we had reached the central part of the field, which was an eminence of some height, we found an open grave. The excavation was at least four times larger than the coffin required, with a place sunk in the bottom just large enough to receive it.

While we were ascending the hill near the grave, the captain having had some consultation with the friends of the deceased, and again feeling some kindlings of sensibility, sought me out from among the crowd, and very affectionately throwing his arm over my shoulders thus accosted me—

"I am very sorry to detain you on your journey, but the hands were all so much attached to Mr. R., I could not well send them on till the funeral was over." I replied, "It is perfectly right to detain us under these circumstances. This is a very solemn event, and one that should be regarded as a loud call both to you and your hands. We must all soon come to this! How important then to lay it to heart!"

To all this he readily assented and replied, "Several of the friends have expressed a wish that you should give us a short exhortation at the grave."

I felt no disposition to decline complying with this request. Accordingly when the coffin had been placed over the excavated grave, with the broad blue canopy over our heads, amid the stillness of the surrounding country scene, and the hill-side beneath me covered with a dense mass of human beings, I lifted up my voice for my Master, and spoke to them of sin, and death, and Christ, and salvation. As I looked over the silent listening throng, I remembered that I had never met one of them before, and probably should never meet one of them again, till we stood together at the judgment bar. I endeavoured to exhibit to them the scenes of that great and dreadful day, and the terms on which they would be accepted or rejected. I endeavoured to direct the mourners that wept around that grave to the balm that is in Gilead and the physician who is there. The countenances of all were solemn, and there were not wanting evidences of deep and tender emotion. The remarks were closed with prayer to the eternal Framer of earth and sky. Whether on that hill-side, with the Ohio rolling at our feet, and the blue heavens stretching over our heads, any good was done when we laid the dead steamboat captain in his grave, the developements of the great day must show! In my heart I thanked the Lord for this opportunity of going out into the highways and hedges to try to compel them to come in.

As soon as the grave was closed up, the bell from our boat reminded us that we must be on our way. During the rest of the voyage our captain seemed very serious and thoughtful. At tea he requested that a blessing should be invoked on our meal. My friend B. sought a private opportunity to press the subject of personal religion upon his attention. He received what was offered with great candour, and seemed willing to prolong the conversation. His conduct after this to us was marked with every indication of respectfulness and attachment. The next morning we found ourselves at Cincinnati, the city which has been called "the Queen of the West."