^' -^ * .0^ \D ^'V.T* A • <^ £» ■• & .'T?^. ' O « - » ' ^V^ O • * •n-o< C '*.^* '<*'^^ V ' • o. O^ "....' ^0 ^^ . ^^ .^ ^ \^ V .; ^ ,^ ^ .^' 0' 4 o 0^ >1 •" a'^ '•^, ^^ V 4 O ,**' .• \ ^o. '*.7,-' .o'^ s* " ' ^ ♦ X^^'-^ • • / y*- '^-•- 0^ c v. ** * _ "^ o. *-...* A '^^v. ^ v^ * ^<>1 * V^ V 4 O .**■ .'■., ' -„,-.^';;^^>. %.o^^ f: .0^ o^""*. '^C u5 °^ - -.-^^A. . <- 'V.^'^ ; •> ^^ <^X. /..MV-i, ' \/ 11 r - ^ t^ '■■"-• >..*" .«^"W. ~>-^^^' Lest of the Pioneers OR Old Times in East Teiiii l^lilNCi THr; Life and l^einiiiiscences of PharoohJticksonCliesney (Aged 120 Vccifs;.n-* > » t > J J » ^ • * • « » • > * > J. C WI:I^.STI:I? KNOXVILLI:, llzNN. 1902 I ^^"^ LIBRARY OFf ' CONGRESS [Two C(.PL..s Rec^.v-. -''-''-• C^ 1902 (Ci.AS^a.XXa No. f\NOXVIl.LL 4jf^ » Tennessee. • < « t CONTENTS. Page A Narrow Escape '2. Uy J. C. WEBSTER. In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. LAST OF THE PIONEERS— PHARAOH CHESNEY PREFACE. Dwelling alone, in a cabin of the most primitive descrip- tion, on the summit of Copper ridge, five miles south of Maynardville, Union county, Tennessee, is unquestional:)ly, one of the most remarka1)le men in the state of Tennessee, if not in the entire United States. He is remarkable not only on account of the great age to which he has attained, l)ut equally so on account of the wonderful preservation of his l)odily and mental powers. While it is impossible to assign the number of his years with absolute certainty, yet we are fully warranted in the assertion that he has undoubtedly l)assed the one hundred and twentieth mile-stone in his jour- ney of life; and from collateral circumstances, we may infcr that he may have reached, or even exceeded, a century and a (juartcr. The following pages will afford tlie reader some idea of his mental powers, nearly all of which were narrated l)y this old man within the present year ( li)0'?) : and at this great age, he cuts and splits his wood, makes his fires, and does the principal p3.vt of his cooking, liesides. he not un- frequently walks a distance of three or four miles and returns within a few hours. He has walked from his cabin to Cedar Ford, a distance of three miles, the voting ])lace of his dis- trict, and cast his ballot for every republican candidate for ])resident, from Lincoln to McKinley. He, himself, is at a k)ss for the cause of his remarkable vitality : as he has been (> L.IST OF THE PIONEERS by no means a teetotaler, or strictly temperate in his habits. He laughinj^ly remarks that many of the modern laws of health would have to be reversed in his case. He has hccu sick only a few times in his life. While it has been his good fortune, under the peculiar regeme of his two masters, to escape much of the drudgery usually falling to the lot of a slave, he has been, nevertheless, a very industrious man, active and energetic. He was fond of most of the old-time sports, and his great strength and activity caused his recog- nition in games and feats of strength. Not less wonderful than his jihysical powers have been the strength and accuracy of his memory. Tn this respect, he is truly a prodigy. The incidents and occurrences of his past long life are apparently as vivid and clear to his mind as though removed but a few months in time. This fact in- ' duces the reflection that had he been reared under unfettered social conditions, and accorded the advantages of an educa- tion commensurate with the capacity of such a giant intellect, and with all the resulting powers of a liberal culture, he would easily have been the peer of B. K. Bruce, Fred Doug- lass, or Booker Washington. Let us fervently hope that his- tory may never so far repeat itself that there may prevail a social condition or instituti(Hi. that may ])r()vo a barrier to the progress of the human race; to quench the light of a glorious mind in the darkness of ignorance ; or to prevent a human soul from achieving the destiny intended for it by the Creator. INTRODUCTION. Alwut the time the pioneers of Tennessee were liaving their mightiest struggles in the effort to esta])hsh the first repubhc west of the Alleghanies ; about the time that John Sevier was making the supreme effort of his hfe in behalf of the 'state of Franklin; and al)out the time that John Tipton and his follower§ were making an equally heroic struggle to maintain in the colonies the government of North Caro- lina, there was born, on the banks of the picturesque Roanoke, at the little village of Clarksville, in Mecklenburg county, Virginia, a yellow lad, who was destined to witness, through a part of three centuries, the process of change and develop- ment, at the hands of man, of a wilderness, inhabited by wiUl and savage beasts, and scarcely less wild and savage men, into a country, blessed with every refinement and conven- ience of a progressive age. He was destined to live, witness, and realize the most sanguine hopes, and the full fruition of the labors and privations of these sturdy pioneers, who first led the wav into the vast trackless wilderness, and bravely met the dangers, and with a fortitude hardly equaled in the experience of mankind, endured the countless hardships in- cident to the settlement of this fair country of ours. The name of this yellow lad was Pharaoh Jackson. Born within a half dozen years of the signing of the Declaration of inde- pendence, and still remarkably vigorous in mnid and l)ody. s LAST Of THE PIONEERS at the end of the first year of the twentieth century, he has ohserved the clearing of the forest, the subduing of the sav- age, the erection of the log-cabin school and church house, the establishment of the simplest forms of government to meet the necessities and requirements of a band of settlers, and all the rude and primitive practices of a helpless and dependent people. Later on he has seen the experiment of more elaborate forms of government made, until, in the full- ness of time, he has seen established in our country, one of the best governments on earth, creating and fostering the most benign and glorious institutions ever vouchsafed to a deserving people. He has been a witness td the fact that this noble heritage has not been without the most serious cost to the noble men and women who have bequeathed it to us. Many of our most cherished ])rivileges are the dear purchase of the blood of our fathers. The civil and religious liberties that no one ever thinks of denying to us, and our entire im- munities from the dangers of a lurking, savage and treacher- ous foe, are greatly in contrast wdth times and conditions within the life and memory of Pharaoh Jackson. Appar- ently to him as yesterday, it was more the rule than the ex- ception to be rudely awakened from a sweet slinnber by the savage bowlings of hungry,' ferocious wolves, or the blood- curdling war-whoop of the savage Indian. Then scarcely a road deserving the name was to be found within the present state of Tennessee. He has lived to see macadamized turn- pikes putting the teamster within easy reach of every center of trade. Then, the only vehicle of travel was the rude, rumbling, rough, home-made wagon. He has lived to see, in all their beauty, convenience, and perfection, our modern LAST OP THE PIONEERS 9 wag-ons, buggies and carriages. He has seen railroads spanning- the continent, carrying- civiHzation, art and im- provement to the far west. He saw the Indian gHding along the rivers of Old Virginia in his birch-bark canoe, and he saw the first steamboat that ever ascended the Roanoke river. He has picked cotton from the seed many a day, and al)out a pound of the fiber was the result of his labor, and he has lived to see a machine that would separate a thousand pounds of cotton from the seed in a day. He has lived in a time when it took two days for a letter to go from New York to Philadelphia, now he sees mail delivered to every family, six days in the week. Then the postage on a letter was 40 cents, now it is only 2 cents. He was a young man when the government was estab- lished at Washington, and when the young republic made its first effort at territorial expansion in the acquisition of Louis- iana, he was scarcely twenty-five. He was about twentv when Whitnev invented the cotton gin, and remembers the slaves talking of the "Yankee ma- chine" that would do the work of a thousand negroes. WIumi he was about ten years old, a cluster of log huts which had been built in the Ohio valley, was called Cincinnati, and this same pioneer settlement has, during his lifetime, become the metropolis of the great state of Ohio, with a water front of ten miles. Suppose, for instance, that when he was fifty years of age. his master had taken him to Fort Dearborn, on Lake Michigan. He would have found a little settlement of al)out a dozen log cabins, which the settlers had named Chicago. (1833V If he had lived there until the prf^cnt time he 10 LAST OF THE PIONEERS would have seen this little mud village become the fourth larj^est city in the world, with over three and a half millions inhabitants, the greatest railroad center, and the greatest grain and meat market in the world. Or. suppose he had been l)orn in New York City. When about ten years of age, he would have witnessed the inaugu- ration of Washington, as the first president of the United States (1789). When twenty, he could have witnessed the laying of the corner-stone of the City Hall (1803). At about twenty-two, he could have seen the first free school incorporated in the city (1805). When he was twenty-five, he could have seen Robert Fulton make the trial trip of the Clermont, the first effort at steam navigation in America (1807). In the same year he might have assisted, in some way, in surveying, and officially laying out the city. He might have crossed over to Jersey City when the first steam ferry was established, when about thirty years of age (1812). At the age of forty, he might have joined in the demonstra- tions in honor of General Lafayette's visit, when he was given the freedom of the city (1824). He might, the next year, have seen lighted the first gas lights used in the city (1825). In the same year, he might have participated in the imposing, ceremonies attending the formal opening of the Erie canal, when Governor Dewitt Clinton wedded Lake Erie and the Atlantic ocean by pouring a keg of the lake water into the ocean (1825). He would have been fifty-four when the ter- rible scourge of Asiatic cholera visited the city ; and three years older when the terrible conflagration of 1835, lasting three days, destroying 600 houses and $20,000,000 worth of property. LAST OF THE PIONEERS 11 Had he gone to St. Louis when he was thirty-five years old, he could have assisted in erecting the first brick build- ing in the city (1813). When about forty, he could have seen the first bank established (1816). Next year (1817), he could have witnessed the arrival of the first steamboat. When he was forty-six the city would have received its first charter (1822). He would have witnessed the great prosperity of the city attended by many adversities. In 1785 and 1844 by great floods, occasioned by the swelling of the ''Father of Waters;" in 1837 and 1847 by financial distress; in 1832 and 1848 by cholera; and in 1849 by fire. Baltimore was well started as a town when Pharaoh Jackson was born, but he was nearly eighteen years old when it was made a city and a mayor chosen (1796). Thus, it may be seen from the mention of these contem- poraneous events that the subject of our sketch is older than most of the distinctive features, and the conveniences that belong to the great metropolitan cities in the United States ; and, that had he lived in any of these great cities, he would have witnessed the first use of all the great inventions and improvements that have been perfected within the century just completed. Not only has he been a living witness to the marvelous inventive and constructive genius of the nineteenth century, and the gradual displacement of the primitive methods and customs, by those more modern and eflfective, but he has also witnessed the introduction of some of the greatest house- hold and economic inventions. Durine his life-time have occurred some of most notable events of history. We shall mention only a few, with the V2 LAST OF run PIONEERS remark that the occurrence of these events reached his cars as matters of news, and that at the present writing he re- meml)ers with distinctness, the impressions made upon his mind, and describes them with historical accuracy, dates ex- cepted. Adoption of the Constitution (178T), Whitney's cotton i^^in (1793). Purchase of Louisiana (1S02), Duel, in which Aaron Burr killed Alexander Hamilton ( 1804), Burr's memorable trial at Richmond, before Chief Justice ^Marshall, for treason ( IMay. 1807), Fulton's steaml)oat (1807), War of 181?, the Seminole War (1835), as well as all the leadin^: events of more recent times. While he was yet a younjc: nian. assistini;- his master's ■other slaves in clearin.e;' out the canes in the bottoms of the "Roanoke and Dan," \^ir£xinia and all the states south ex- cept South Carolina, extended to the Mississipjii river. North Carolina included the present state of Tennessee, \ irj^inia included the present state of Kentucky and W'est X'irginia. and Florida belonged to Spain. He has lived to see Ohio. Indiana, Illinois, Michigan. Wisconsin, and Min- nesota carved out of the Northwest Territory — as well as the purchase, settlement, and development of all the great em- pire west of the Mississippi, and has joined in celebrating the addition of thirty-three new stars to the original thirteen on the American flag. He has not only lived to see the form- ation of this vast republic of ours by the voluntary union of so many independent states, but he witnessed the sanguinarv struggle in which the fairest land under the sun was drenched in blood as a result of the dismemberment of this union. He has seen the boys in blue marching under the stars and stripes, and the boys in gray marching under the stars and LAST OF THE PIONEERS I 13 bars, each fighting for a principle regarded as sacred and precious as hfe. And after this bloody civil strife, he has seen the white-winged angel of peace hover over this heaven- favored land, and later, when a foreign foe disputed the cherished rights of Americans, has seen these battle-scarred veterans, marching under the same flag, actuated by the same motives, and fighting for a common cause. But the triumphs of war have been no less great and re- markable than have those of peace. Inventive and con- structive genius in the palmy, quiet days of peace, have made conquests of far greater consequences to mankind than have been the victories gained on fields of battle. The little nar- row creek meadow cut with an old Dutch scythe when Pharaoh Jackson was a full grown man, has been lengthened and widened until it has grown from one acre to fifty on ac- count of the invention of the mowing machine. Instead of the reap-hook to cut the grain, and a wooden flail to beat it out of the straw, the great wheat ranches of the west have machines to cut, thresh, clean, and sack the grain. Equally great changes, improvements and revolutions have taken place in every branch of human industry. Since the boy- hood of our sketch, great and mighty changes have swept the face of our great country. Progress in the arts and sciences has brought about so many and such varied improve- ments, and has occasioned such diversified industries in order to keep pace with human needs and amliitions, that in the space of this remarka])le life-time, the face of nature has undergone a transformation as sweeping and wonderful as that of the reputed wizard with his magic wand. The misera1)le wigwam of the savage Indian gave wav 14 LAST OP THE PIOXEERS to tlic unpretentious but comfortal)le hut of the settler. This, in turn, as ambition prompted and prosperity per- mitted, was transformed into the old colonial mansion, the onlv evidence of which, enduring- to the present, is a heap of stones, and fragments of decayed timbers, scored in a primitive forest a hundred years ago. Beside these ruins, rendered sacred by time, tradition, and association, stands today the stately mansion, the acme of architectural design and mechanical execution. The forest, no longer affording a refuge and shelter for the skulking savage lying in wait for his pale-face brother, (^r the natural home of the bear, the deer, or the turkey — the hunter's paradise — has been leveled by the woodman's axe, and has become the fertile field, teeming with plentiful har- vests of golden grain, or carpeted with luxuriant herbage where flocks and herds roam at will. The splashing water- fall, beside which, perhaps the tired hunter sat and rested, or perchance the Indian warrior seated by the side of its sparkling waters, and gazing into its clear, hmpid depths, wooed his dusky mate, is directed by the hand of the artisan in an artificial channel, and made to turn the wheels of such machinery as contribute to the wants of an ambitious and a progressive people. The howl of the wolf, the scream of the panther, or the war-whoop of the savage no longer echo upon our hillsides or in our valleys. Such sounds were once the common but unpleasant music that greeted the ears of our forefathers. Old Uncle Pharaoh has heard all that in his time, and has been permitted to live to see a time when humanity may, after the day's toil, retire in peace and secur- ity, and in sweet repose, await the coming of the dawn. The LAST OF THE PIONEERS 15 summons for him to answer the roll-call on the other shore has been delayed until the mighty struggles for independence are over, and all the garments once dyed in blood have changed to mantles of ministering charity, and the white- winged angel of peace has hovered over our country. Like good old Simeon, he is ready, and exclaims, '"Lord, let thy servant depart in peace ; for mine eyes have seen thy salva- tion." But the point sought to be made by these observations and illustrations, is that our country has not only passed through all these changes, but has done so within the space of a human life. This life, prolonged to a remarkable length, through the mercy and wisdom of Him "Who doeth all things well," is perhaps the most wonderful survival of three cen- turies. This life has witnessed the beginning of what has culminated through the genius of man, aided by the forces of nature, in achievements that are today the wonders of the age. His eyes have followed each step from the uncertain experiment through each round of improvement in the ladder of perfection, until the topmost round is reached ; and as genius pauses and surveys below him the century's conquest, and just as he shades his eyes in the effort to penetrate the invisible realms of the spirit world, a voice echoes, "Thus far and no farther." But the mighty pendulum of time has not yet reached the limit of its ever-widening arc ; time is yet swinging around the mighty circle of the ages; history must go on repeating itself; the lost arts must be restored to the world; and the chancres to come will be more momentous than those of the past. Following in the track of the mighty march of 16 LAST OF THE PIOXBHRS ■ time, nations and people yet unborn will view with silent wonder wrecks of today's greatness outgrown and suj^er- seded by achievements yet to be. TXSTAXCHS OF GREAT LOXGKMTV. The feature of this work which will n;:; doubt carry with it the greatest weight of interest is the fact of the great longevity of the principal narrator. And while such in- stances are rare and isolated, yet history abounds in many examples of pers(^ns who have attained to a remarkable old age. A table was prepared by Mr. Easton, of Salisburx . England, giving some of the most noted names on record, of Euro]ieans and Asiatics. .^ppulhjiiius of Tvana St. Patrick 41)1 Attilia Leywarcli Hew St. Coem^ene Piastus, Kinj< of Poland Thomas Parr 1H85 Henry Jenkins Countess of Desmond Thomas Damme Peter Torton Marj^aret Patters John Rovin and wife St. IMougah or Kentigern ... Facts prove that, in circumstances favorable to extreme longevity, the Europeans, the most polished comnumities, have no pre-eminence over the tribes of Africa, the least Date Aged \)\) 130 41)1 122 .-)()0 121 .')()0 ir,o r.i8 120 SHI 120 1H35 ir)2 KiTO 169 i(;i2 14.-. HU8 154 1724 l.s.-, 1739 137 1741 172 \ 164 17S1 185 LAST OP THE PIONEERS 17 advanced in the social scale. Doctor Pritchard. from vari- ous sources, collected a variety of remarka1)lc instances of negro longevity, of which the two following are samples: December 5, 1830, died at St. Andrews, Jamaica, the property of Sir Edward Hyde East, Robert Lynch, a negro slave in comfortable circumstances, who perfectly recol- lected the great earthquake of 1692, and further recollected the person and equipages of the lieutenant-governor, Sir Henry Morgan, whose third and last governorshi]) com- menced in 1680, viz., one hundred and fifty years before. Al- lowing for this early recollection the age of ten years, this negro must have died at the age of one hundred and sixty vears."^ Died, February 17, 1823, in the bay of St. Jolms, An- tigua, a black woman named Statira. She was a slave, and was hired as a day laborer during the building of the jail, and was present at the laying of the corner-stone, which ceremony took place one hundred and sixteen years ago (1823). She also stated that she was a young woman grown when President Sharp assumed the administration of the island which was in 1706. AUowing her to be four- teen years old at that time, we must conclude her age to have been upwards of one hundred and thirty year>.* The same historical source from which the above instances were de- rived, furnish many more sinn'lar examples. Tliese facts and ilhistrations are sufficient to show that tliere is no physi- cal law forljidding the negro from attaining a longevity e(iual to that of the European in circumstances friendly to it ; while 'Sear's Wonders of the World, ])p. ;-il-:i2. 18 LAST OF THE PIOXBBRS placing' the European in subjection to the same amount of toil in the West Indies, or plantin*;- him amid the swamps, the luxuriant vegetation, the iiumdation. and heat of Western Africa, and his term of life would not. in general, come up to the negro standard. It was a well known fact among the early settlers that some of the Indians attained to a very old age, and were rep- resented bv members of their tribe to be much over one hun- dred years. Humboldt, speaking of the native Americans, says, "It is by no means uncommon to see at Mexico, in the temperate zone, half way up the Cordillera, natives, and especially women, reach a hundred years of age. This old age is gen- erally comfortable ; for the jMexican and Peruvian Indians preserve their strength to the last. While I was at Lima, the Indian. Hilario Sari, died at the village of Chiguata, four leagues distant from the town of Arequipa, at the age of one hundred and forty-three. She had been united in marriage for ninety years to an Indian by the name of Andrea Alea Zar. who attained to the age of one hundred and seventeen. This old Peruvian went, at the age of one hundred and thirt\- years, a distance of from three to four leagues dailv on foot." A RKMARKAP.LE XKGRESS. The Pciuisylvafiia Inquirer, of July 15, 1835, contained this notice: Curiosity — The citizens of Philadelphia and its vicinity have an opportunity of witnessing at the Masonic Plall. one of the greatest natural curiosities ever witnessed, viz. : Joiee flefh. a negress. aged, one hundred and sixtv-one LAS7' OF THE PIONEERS 19 years, who formerly belonged to the father of George Wash- ington. She has been a member of the Baptist church for one hundred and sixteen years, and can rehearse many hymns, and sing them according to former custom. She was born near the old Potomac river, in Virginia, and has, for ninety or one hundred years, lived in Paris, Kentucky, with the Bowling family. All who have seen this extraordinary woman are satis- fied of the truth of the account of her age. The evidence of the Bowling family, which is respectable, is strong, but the original bill of sale of Augustine Washington, in his own hand-writing, and other evidences, which, the proprietor has in his possession, will satisfy even the most incredulous. A lady will attend at the hall during the afternoon and evening for the accommodation of those ladies who may call." A Mr. Lindsay was then exhibiting this aged negress at Philadelphia. Mr. Barnum, the great showman, was then on the lookout for some great curiosity, and went to Pliila- delphia to endeavor to purchase this novel exhil)iti()n. The first price put on the old woman was three thousand dollars, which Barnum declined to pay. He offered one thousand, whicli was finally accepted, and he exhibited her to immense throngs of people in all the large cities of the United States, until the following February, when old Joicc Heth died, lit- erally of old age. The best description of this old negress is given by .Mr. Barnum himself. "Joice Heth was certainly a remarkable curiosity, and she looked as if she might have been far older than her age as advertised. She was apparently in good 20 LAST OF THE PIONEERS health and spirits, but from age or disease, or both, she was unable to change her position ; she could move one arm at will, but her lower limbs could not be straightened ; her left arm lay across her breast, and she could not remove it ; the fingers of her left hand were drawn down so as to nearly close it, and were fixed ; the nails on that hand were nearly four inches long, and extended above her wrist ; the nails on her large toes had grown to the thickness of nearly a quarter of an inch ; her head was covered with a thick bush of grey hair; but she was toothless and totally blind, and her eyes had sunk so dee])ly in their sockets as to have disappeared altogether. Nevertheless, she was pert and sociable, and would talk as long as people would converse with her. She was quite garrulous al)out her protege "dear little George," at whose birth she declared she was present, having been at the time a slave of Elizabeth Atwood, a half sister of Augustine Washington, father of George Washington. As a nurse, she put the first clothes on the infant, and she claimed to have ''raised him." She professed to be a member of the Baptist church, talking much in her way on religitnis subjects, and she sang a variety of ancient hymns. In proof of her extra- ordinary age and pretensions, Mr. Lindsay exhibited a bill of sale, dated Februarv 5, 1727, from Augustine Washinoton. county of Westmoreland, \^irginia, to Elizabeth Atwood. a half sister and neighbor of Augustine Washington, convey- ing 'one negro woman named Joice Heth, aged fifty-four years, for and in consideration of the sum of thirty-three pounds, lawful money of Virginia.' "* 'Life of P. T. Banunn, pp. 57. 58. LAST OP THE PIONEERS 21 SARAH JENIFER, OF WASHINGTON, D. C. x\propos to the foregoing, we clip from the National Tribune of October 1, 1885, the following notice of an aged negress of that city: "Remarkable instances of longevity are sometimes found among the colored people. Sarah Jenifer, who was known to be one hundred and twenty vears old, died in this citv last week. Her eyesight, and indeed most of her physical and mental faculities, showed slight impairment until within a year past. She reared nineteen children, many of whom were similarly prolific, and, as may be imagined, she left a family of grandchildren down to the fourth and fifth genera- tions, numbered by hundreds. Three of her surviving chil- dren are past ninety." CLARKSVILLE, HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD. I ,..„.„...„._ ,.. lenburg county, in Old Virginia, and this is why I always speak of Clarksville as my childhood home. This beautiful town, built on a lovely strip of level bottom land, was at first laid out on the south side of the river, just below where the Roanoke and Dan come together. The river still goes on to the ocean under the name of the Roanoke, but we all got used to calling the name of both rivers. There was, from my earliest recollection, a considerable settlement on the other side of the river, called Klipper's Landing, but after the steamboats began making regular trips to the town and above, quite a town sprung up across the river ; and so, we might say, that Clarksville is situated on both sides of the river. Old Master Jackson had a large plantation and a magnificent home just below town, but almost joining it. Old Master Johnathan Jackson did a great deal of business in town, while young master, Corbin Jackson, was a stock dealer, and often took me on his buying trips to assist him in bringing back the stock he would buy. It was on one of these long trips buying up droves of cattle and sheep, that he came down into Tennessee, as far down as Surgoinsville, Hawkins county, that he became so favorably impressed with East Tennessee, that he was determined to one day 24 LAST OF THE PIONEERS make his home somewhere along CHiich mountain, in the beautiful valley. Speaking of Clarksville, I do not believe the Creator ever made a place more fit for a life of pleasure and happiness than this town and country. The land was everywhere rich ; there was plenty of fine timl)er and good water ; the forest abounded in all kinds of game, from a ground squirrel to a bear ; and every stream was full of fish, that could be caught without difficulty. Almost every old settler lived on his own large plantation, in a fine mansion, owned a number of slaves, and had become rich during the few years since the settlement of the country. These settlers. most of whom were old men when I was a mere boy, had turned their attention towartl the raising of such products as Cf^mmanded a ready market, either at home or abroad. Boats were built at Clarksville and at many other points, which were loaded with all kinds of produce, and taken down through North Carolina to the ocean, where it was loaded on ships. Tobacco was one of the principal shi]>ping crops, and many large plantations were devoted almost entirely to raising it. Jiack farther in the hills and mountains, there were not as large plantations and as line mansions as were found in the valleys and along the rivers. There were not so many slaves. 1)ut what few there were seemed contented and happy. The people lived ecpially as well, and had plenty to sell. Every Saturday wagons would come in from the hills and mountains to Clarksville, ])ring in loads of fruit, fur skins, chickens. l)utter. eggs. ma])le sugar, feathers, pine tar, ginseng, and often deer and ]>ear meat. These articles they produced in great abundance, and usually bore a fair price. It was sold to the stores or to the shippers, or ex- LAST OF THE PIONEERS 25 Ran anged for salt, thread, indigo, nails, powder, lead, and such manufactured articles as the merchants kept for sale. There was not much money in circulation, neither did the people need or want it. I sometimes yet wonder how and why the world ever took such a notion for money. I can remember when bartering was all the go, and everybody did it. A bushel of corn or potatoes, or five pounds of meat for a day's work. So many pounds of feathers, tobacco, maple sugar, or butter for a yard of cloth, etc. Everybody understood what the custom of the country was, and very few buyers or sellers would undertake to make a bargain that was differ- ent from the regular custom. 1 have watched this old cus- tom gradually give way, and money to come into use, and my opinion is that the old style of trading was simpler, more easily understood, and was much fairer to the seller than to have a money value attached to every article. Very few persons ever raised just enough of everything they wanted for their own use. Of some things they raised more, and of other things they produced less than they needed; and so this was remedied by an exchange of articles, this deal being called bartering. I remember my first bartering. As I hav: told you, the streams abounded in fish, which were easily caught. The merchants kept salt-fish in the stores tu sell, Init some of their customers preferred fresh fish. So the merchants were glad to exchange the salt-fish for the fresh ones, and as this just suited me, I made many trades with them. The salt-fish would keep for any length of time, while the fresh ones had to be used at once. In addition to this being a land of plenty to eat, and of 26 LAST OF THE PIOXEERS peace and prosperity, there was, also, plenty ol amusements of all kinds to keep up a fellow's spirits. Xo use of dying- of the "hlues" on a plantation of darkeys. These were gcn- erallv allowed liberty to go where they pleased on the ])lan- tation, and, just so a man did a i^ood dav's work, and the feeding- and wood-chopping besides, he was allowed to enjov himself in any reasonable way, so no harm or damage wa^ done. As for myself, I would have been content to spend all my days, as I once did, at my old childhood home. It was all the freedom my heart could ever wish, and if T had had my choice I would never have left there. But the saddest day in all my life came to me when I was told that my be- loved wife and children nuist be taken one way, and that 1 nnist go another. A more cruel blow could not have l)een given to me. I could not have felt worse if I had been told that we were all to be killed. ' It seemed to almost break mv poor wife's heart ; and the sad thought has always been with me. whether the poor creature ever lived after our separation. Our four children were grown, and one of them married h' a man by the name of Jones, who were both sold and taken to Lexington, Kentucky. Of the other three I have never seen nor heard of since we were separated. During the many years since all of us that were living became free, 1 have contemplated making a search — like a mother partridge for her scattered brood — for them : but this life, though long, has been so full of all kinds of cares and duties that this su- preme desire of my heart must go unsatisfied. Mv day of life, I fully realize, is too far spent, and the shades of its evening are closing too close around me to permit the faintest prospect of my ever again seeing the home of mv childhood's LAST OF THE PIONEERS 27 ha])py days, which I learn is all changed, save in name and location : much less to ever ]:)ehold, on the shores of time, the faces of my loved ones, so cruelly taken from me. But the solace of my declining- days has l)cen, that as my feeble, tot- tering frame approaches nearer and nearer to the silence of the grave, my faith grows stronger, and the way becomes l)righter as visions of blissful immortality greet my discon- solate mind. I feel that T have now nothing to live for, and am simply waiting for my Master's call ; and when that sum- mons shall come, that same sustaining faith whispers to me, that perchance some of those loved ones have already gone on before me, and may be the first to greet me over there. That ever-abiding faith in my Creator's i)ower and wisdom also assures me that though my bones are not buried at my old Virginia home — as my most cherished wish has been — that when the great roll-call of heaven is made, that here in Sunny Tennessee, my grave will be found 1)y Mini, and I shall awake and come forth and enter upon that new life, which shall know neither decay nor death, and where severed ties and dismembered families will enter upon a perjietual union, "Where the wicked cease from troul)ling and the weary be at rest." THE FIRST STEAMBOAT OX THE ROAXOKE AND DAN. T remember as well as if it occurred but a month ago the occasion of the coming of the first steamboat u]> the Roanoke to Clarksville. We had all lieard (^f steaml)oats. but there was not a half rlozen peo])k' in all that country 28 LAST Of THE PIONEERS that had ever seen one, and but few, I think, had any correct idea of how one would look. I remember we darkies, after we heard that on a certain day a steamboat was coming to our town, would sit around and exchange ideas and notions as to how it would look. After seeing one we had many hearty laughs about how different it proved to be from what we imagined. For my part the strangest thing to me was how there could be enough iron about it and \ et it not sink. About as silly was our wonder, when railroads were first talked of, how they could carry anything else after carrying enough sand to keep the wheels from slipping ! One darkey being called upon for his opinion, said that the thing could not be: that no power in or on the boat could possibly move the boat : that it would be just like a man trying to lift him- self over the fence by pulling up on his boot straps. About the funniest idea T heard given was by a numb-skull who said that the boat would have to stop running when the steam was used to whistle! But we all had to give it up, in spite of our logic, when the boat steamed into Clarksville. The news had been circulated far and wide that a steam- boat would come up to Clarksville from Weldon on a certain daw This was the occasion of a general holiday among all classes. Horses and mules were taken from the plow and hitched to all sorts of conveyances, and men, women and children came from all parts of the country, and col- lected on each side of the river. Scats were put up on the banks for the women and children; some of the men sat on their horses in order to see over the heads of the crowd, and many of the men and boys climbed into trees in order to be the first to see. Just below town the river makes a bend, LAST OF THE PIONEERS 29 and every eye was turned in that direction. Soon a shout went up from those in the trees saying that they saw the smoke and that she was coming*. Then there was such a scramble as I have never seen since in order to get nearer the landing. Soon the black curling smoke could be seen by all, and in a moment more, the tall black smoke-stack loomed up just at the bend a short distance below us. Then the scramble for places was renewed, and shouts, and yells, and screams went up from the crowd lining each bank. As there was a large crowd on both sides of the river, there was nuich doubt and anxiety as to which the boat would land. The pilot, evidently considering ours as the largest crowd, began turning her prow toward our side, and just then the whistle began blowing, and the crowd on shore created such a scene as I have never l^efore or since witnessed in my life. The shouts were deafening; women screamed and fainted, and children were frantic with the excitement. Witli mighty puffs and heaves, with the foam leaping and the waves dashing against the shore, the boat ncared the bank. Two broad, thick planks were laid out upon which persons on the boat could come ashore. As soon as these had stepped on land, several of the crowd began crowding on the gang plank to go in and see the inside of the boat. About the time both planks were full the steam blew off with such force and noise that a regular panic ensued. In their fright several of those on the planks fell head long into the nuid and water; again the women and children screamed, this time in fright ; the small and weak in the crowd along the bank were run over, knocked down, and tramjiled upon in the wild, mad rush to get away from the escaping steam. 80 L.lSr or THE PIOXEERS Mu>l ul the crowd thoup^lu that tlic thiiii;- had exploded, and it was some time l)efore the captain could restore order hy the assurance that there was no harm. He took ])ains to ex- plain all ahout how the safety-valve would let off the sur- plus steam, and i)revent the boiler from hurstin.^. lUit I have not told you the worst. The horses had their nerves strung^ up to a hi^h pitch already at the noise of the iK^at. and the tumult of the crowd. In their haste to i^et a position on the hank. nian\- had alii^hted from their vehicles, and had left the horses unhitched. These, when the steam blew oft', could stand it no longer, and broke awa\ without driver, and went dashing- and clatterinc;- pell-mell, helter-skelter in several directions, upsettin,^ waj^i^ons and l)uj^iries. tearinji^ down posts and fences, and pursued by dozens of yelpin*;- do^s, left the scene in the wildest confus- ion. Many peoj^le were run over and hurt, and several horses were crippled in the stampede. The crowd across the river, that had been disapj^ointed in the boat's nut landing on their side, n(jw took in the situation, and set up the most tumultuous laughing, shouting, and clapping of hands that 1 e\er heard. They enjoyed our discomfiture immensely. After the i)anic was over, and order restored, speeches were made, wine and cider was passed around, and the cap- tain spoke glowingly of the great advantages and ])ossibili- ties of the steamboat, and what a great blessing it would l)nn'e to the world. If any one of that great crowd besides me is still living, he will join me in .saying that that was the greatest day Clarksville ever had. Soon, this boat made regular trii)s to our town, and before we left that beloved place X^^ come to Tennessee, other l)oats made regular trips LAST OP THE PIONEERS 31 up the Roanoke and Dan. They usually came steaming up after dark, beautifully lighted up, and the bands playing. Oh ! we never grew tired of the glorious sight ; it seemed to rhrill us with new life. And though my ears are getting deaf, and my old eyes growing weak, I pine once again to liear the shrill steamboat whistle, and to see the beautiful lights and the streaming banners once more on the lovely liver of my boyhood days. Truly, there is no time like the old time, and it will never come to us again. [In spirit, if not in words. L'ncle Pharaoh constantly reechoes the sentiment of the poet, in the following lines:] "There are no days like the good old days. The days when we were youthful ; When humankind were pure of mind. And s])eech and deed were truthful ; Before a love for sordid gold Became man's ruling passion. And before each dame an.d maid became Slaves to the tyrant's fashion." THE TXDIAXS. General Jackson used to say that the only good Indian was a dead Indian. He said that little Indians made big Indians, and that big Indians were always bad Indians; and in his battles with these savages, he told his .st)ldiers to kill all of them, big and little. This made it pretty hard on the old scpiaws, i)ut I know, from a long accpiaintance with the Indians, that the women were generallv a- big liars atid 32 LAST OF THE PIONEERS rogues as the men. and when they would be torturing a white person, that the women would often think of more cruel things to do than the men. Sometimes when a crowd of Indians would come to a settler's cabin to beg, the women would slip around the house and steal everything loose, while the men would keep the attention of the white people. Vou could never tell much about what an Indian was going to do. He might have come to kill you, and he would come up smiling in such a way as to make you believe he was the most friendly Indian in the world. An Indian could deceive a fellow about as well as some white folks can. I always knew that we colored people came from Africa, and that always satisfied me, but I always had a great desire to know where the Indians came from. I tried hard to find out all T could from the oldest Indians, but they had a great, long 'v about descending from some great, powerful tribe — 'liing that had been told to them by the old men ( tra- lUU I never thought they knew anything certain Lhemselves. They could not tell me anything a])out *; i.o made the mounds of earth to be found ni many parts of Tennessee. We always called them Indian mounds, and supposed the Indians made them, but for what purpose, or when, tluy themselves seemed to know as little about it as we did. ( )ne thing only we do know — they were here when the white men first came, and that is all. Another thing, some of the Indians did not seem to know much about the flints or arrow-heads which can l)e picked up almost everv- where. Tlu \- could be picked up just the same when I was a boy in Old \ irginia, and I never saw but a few Indians that could make tl «^m. The ones I saw them make were rouirh LAST OF THE PIONEERS 33 and ugly. They did not use the how and arrow very much for they nearly all had guns, and had learned how to use them from the white people. But every Indian boy had to learn how to use the bow and arrow, and so well did they learn it that they seldom ever missed anything they ever shot at. Birds and animals which they shot were often not killed at once, but were so badly crippled by the rough flints on the arrows, that the Indians soon caught up \vith them and finished killing them. It was a funny sight to see them splashing in the creek after a wounded fish, bursting through the brush after a crippled turkey, or chasing through the woods after a wounded deer. But they were generally suc- cessful, and seldom failed to bring home the game. But while the women were as bad as the men in ;;ome respects, in others they w^ere very much better. They did not keep themselves much cleaner than the men, and neither gave themselves much concern on this score. But they were not half as lazy as were the men. In the chase or on the war- path the men were active and si)rightly enough, but when about the lodcfc or wisfwam. the lazv, good-for-nothing fel- lows would not do a lick of work in the way of i)reparing food or fuel, and all of the work now considered as l)el<)ng- ing to men. was performed 1)y the women. The animals brought in as game were skinned, cut up. and jirepared into food by the women, and often the greedy hunters would turn in for dinner before it was half done, and devour all of it, before the women could get a share. 'J'he seed-corn had to be kept hidden from the men for when tlijy would come in tired and hungry, they would eat uj) everything in sight. When the season came for planting, the women prepared :J4 LAST Of THE PIOXEERS the oT()iincl tor the seed, planted tlie .f^rain. and o^ave it such httle cultivation as it ever received. The corn was most al- ways planted in a rich, moist spot oi ground, and did not re- (|uire much work except to keep the weeds ])ulled out. The\ also planted heans. and raised ahundant crops of them. They boiled heans and green corn together and made succotash wliicli was very good. The Indians taught the white settlers how to raise corn. The Indians showed them how to deaden the timber by building fires at the roots of the trees, or by cutting a ring around the tree while the saj) is dowing. They also showed them lliai where the land was not rich, ^ if they would dig a hole and put into it a good sized fish, and then ])lant the corn in the hole with the fish, tint they would always raise a big hill of corn, no diflference how poor the land was. Speaking of corn I am sure that the Indians could never have existed without it. The land was rich, and it did not re(|uire much labor; when ri])e it did not require to be gfathered before winter, as it would stand all through the w inter, and be sound in the si)ring. There was no other grain or vegetable that was so easily raised, that produced such great ([uantities. and took care of itself. The Indian might have subsisted on fruits, berries and game during the sinnmer, but they really could never have lived and kept their horses alive through the winter without corn. \\\\\ raising the corn was not the hardest work that the Indian w >man had to do. Whenever game became scarce in any locality, or the grass gave out. then the men would go to another i)lace and decided on a location. When the time came to ni< e the women had to carry all the luggage and the cooking 'itensils. The load (ine could carrv was sim])lv LAST or run riosruKS m.', astonishing-. The Indian men seemed to think il l)eneath the (liqnitv of a hunter or a warrior to en^^aj^e in any kind of manual la1)or. lint while the Indian was cruel, reventrcful. deceptive, and indolent, still he had some redeeming traits of char- [icter. You have heard it said that he never for^^ave an ( nem\ nor forg-ot a friend. \\'ell, that was just a1>out the ease exactly. In all my dealings with these savaj2:e peoi)le, I have never o])served much exception to that rule. For if you ever did one a kind act, he would never forg^et you, 1)ut we have often wished that they would sometimes forget. Thev would he ver\- nuich like the old darkey was 1)\- his master. (Jne day the old darkey's master i^ave him a chew of tohacco. The next day the old darkey come hack and said. "Massa, don't one good turn deserve another?" Of course his master said "Yes." Then the old nej^ro .<^aid, '^'ou gave me a chew of tobacco yesterday, so that deserves another." So it was with the Indian, lie would never forget you, and would always he coming hack for something- else; and if he didn't get what he wanted, he would conclude that you was not a friend to him. even though _\ou had given him a dozen things. They would jusl hang around and beg and steal, or starve if you once began to give to them. So. many of the early settlers decided that it was 1)est to let them be enemies and watch them than to feed and clothe them. For whenever you got on friendly terms with a lot of Indians, ihey would always be prowling around, day and night, and. as J .said, if you denied them what they wantv-d. it would be sure to make them mad. Thev have been known to give 3(; LAST Of THE PIONEERS 11]) even hunting and fishing to hve off a few settlers that wanted to keep friendly with them. But if you had ever befriended one, especially if you had fed him well when he was very hungry, he would never forget your face, nor the favor, and if you ever got into trouble, he would do everything in his power for you, even at the risk of his life. I once knew a hunter in Old Virginia, who went out one day in search of game. The whole country was a wilderness, and no roads, except here and there an Indian trail. He went so far out into the forest that he finally be- came lost, and when, at last, he decided to return home, he knew not what direction to take. Tie would occasionally cross an Indian trail but was afraid to follow it, fearing that he might come up with Indians who would, as he thought,, most surely kill him. Or. one of the trails, if followed,, would certainly lead him to one of their villages, where he would be captured and perhaps tortured. So, this man wandered about through the woods all day, with no thought of game, Ijui (jnly of reaching his cabin. Night finally came on. and weary and discouraged, he climbed up into a tree, taking his gun up with him. He climbed the tree in order to be (nit of the reach of bears or wolves that would soon be l)r()wling around in search of food. He sat up in the tree and nodded, being so sleepy that he could scarcely hold on to the limbs. Hut about midnight his desire for sleep was taken away, when he heard, not far from the tree where he was. the .solitary howl of a wolf. This was almost imme- diately answered by that of another, on the top of a ridge not LAST OF THE PIONEERS 87 far away. Soon the howls were coming from all directions. As they came nearer their blood-curdlinp^ yells almost chilled the blood in his veins. The moon was shininij^ dimly, and In- straining his eyes, he could see coming toward him a long, slim, dog-like animal. It came on up and ])egan h(nvling, jumping, scratching, and gnawing at the tree. In a few minutes other wolves \Vere coming to the tree from all direc- tions. Soon there must have 1)een as manv as fifty of these liungry creatures, howling, and gnawing at the tree. He is sure that they would have gnawed down the tree before morning, but as soon as they would begin to gnaw at the tree, they would begin to fight, which would be kept up for several minutes. Then, as soon as the fighting was over, they would come back to the tree. He sat in the tree and watched these savage brutes until daylight, when, one by one, the}' would look up at him and show their ugly teeth, and slink away. When the sun was fairly up they were all gone. lUit still he stayed in the tree until he was sure they had gone away a long distance, when he slid down from the tree, and started on, he knew not where. All day long, he wandered, tired and hungry, crossing logs and creeks, and climbing hills in hope of getting a glim])se of the settlement where his cabin was. He traveled un until it was nearl\- dark again, and he was so tired that he could scarcely walk and carry his gun. He was just thinking of looking out for a suitable tree in which to spend another night with the wolves, when he came to an Indian trail. He slopped in the trail to look each way (as a white man always «lid when crossing an Indian trail) and his heart almost sank witluii him at what he saw. Coming toward him. not a hundre 1 yards away. 8.S LAST OP THE PIOXEERS was a band of about twenty Indians. W'Ikmi tliey saw bini, tbev uttered a hideous yell, and made a rush for him. He stood perfeetly still, and when they came up, they seized him, and handled him very roughly, and taking away his gun, pointed with angry and threatening gestures for him to move ahead in front of them. The trail led over hills and ridges for several miles to their village. They had just returned from a hunt, and had killed a deer, which they threw down Xo the women when they reached the huts, and each of the men immediately threw himself u])on the ground and were soon aslee]). Almost as soon as they arrived witli the ]:)risoner, they placed a guard of young men about him. They ke]:)t a very close watch over him all the while. After a little while, the deer was ])reparL'd, after their usual fashion, for l)cing eaten, and the sleepers were aroused. They all went in a rush t'or tlu- dinner, and none of them, exce])t one, seemed to pa\ any attention to the ca])tive. One of them came to where he was guarded and motioned for him to come. Bv the time they had reached the fcKxl, the greedv hunters had taken all of it but one piece, which was large enough for two persons. This ])iece the Indian seized, and gave nearlv all of it to the white man. keeping only a small piece for him- self. This meat satisfied his hunger, and l;e was taken back, and the guard again placed round him as before. The Indians, now rested and refreshed, seemed to be consultinir as to what should be the fate of the ])risoner. All except the one who had given him the meat seemed lo be in a verv ugly humor, and he felt sure that it all meant no good for him. though he could not understand a word thev were sav- ing. Once in a while he could catch a word or two of broken LAST Of THIS riOXIilikS 39 English from the fricndl}- Inchaii. wliich iLjavc him hope lliat ihis IncHan, havini;' hecn with the wlhte people loiiL^ enough to learn some of their words, would have some friendly feel- ing for him, and would in some way prevent: his being killed. Soon dark came on. and the hunters who had ca])tured him all went to sleep except one who would be left to guard liim. One would only guard for a short time when another would be awakened, and this one would fall asleep. By and by, about midnight, it came the turn of the friendly Indian to guard, which he did until all the rest v/ere sound asleep. Then the Indian arose very softly, and motioned for the white man to follow him. He did so, and after going a short distance from the cam]), they came to a stum]) behind w liich was sitting the gun which had been taken from him. and u])on the stump was a large piece of well-cooked meat. The Indian bade the white man take these, and then the Indiait led the wav by a dilTerent trail from that by which they had come. All the time after they left the stum]), there was not a word said by either of them until lhe\ must have traveled several miles. Finally, the Indian st()])])ed, and turning to the man said, "I have saved your life at the risk of losing my own. They had decided to ])ut you to death, and if it should be found out that I have aided you in getting away, I would have a close call for my own life. I will no doubt be ]:)Ut to death in your ])lace. lUit 1 came to your cabin a long time ago, hungry, tired, and i)ursued by my enemies who were seeking my life. It they had caught me. they would have killed me: but while 1 was in your cabin. and you were giving me food and shelter, they ])assed by, and von .saved mv life. Now I have saved yours. I\ee]> 40 LAST Of THE PIONEERS this trail for a short distance further, and it will take you to the white settlements." So saying, the Indian turned quickly, and in a minute was speeding his way back to the Indian camp. All the time the Indian was talking, the white man was trying to remember where he had seen the face that seemed to have something familiar about it. At last, he remem- bered that when the Cherokees and Chickasaws were mak- ing war on each other, that an Indian, that appeared to be in great distress and very much frightened, came to his cabin and begged for food and water. He would not stay outside to eat it, and while in the cabin a number of Indians passed by. He then recognized this friendly Indian as the one. INDIAN /TRADITIONS. UNCLE PHARAOH'S RECOLLECTIONS OF OLD TOl^A. Much of the Indian character, their modes of life, and warfare, their manners and customs, and, many of their tra- ditions, I learned from an old Chickasaw chief, named Toka, who resided at the Chickasaw Old Fields, near the Muscle Shoals, until his tribe was overpowered and driven out by the hostile Creeks and Cherokees. He then moved up nearer to the Cumberland settlements., and was one of the two Chickasaw guides employed by Col. James Robertson in his memorable Coldwater expedition against the Creeks occupy- ing the old Chickasaw hunting grounds. ]Much of the suc- cess of this expedition was due to the knowledge of the coun- try, and the fidelity of this old chief, it was he who in- formed Rol^ertson and others of the Cumln^rland settlers LAST OF THE PIONEERS 41 that the Spanish traders were offering^ a regular l)ount\ fur the scalps of the white settlers, and were furnishing the Indians with guns and ammunition in consideration of their services in committing depredations on the whites. He still had the gun and blanket, and often spoke of the horse pre- sented him as his share of the spoils, and in consideration of his services. Later, sad, dejected, and disspirited at the loss of their valued hunting grounds, and the dispersion of his tribe, he passed up the Tennessee river, his identity con- cealed, dwelling for a time, among the various tri1)es through which he passed, finally making his way to the extreme north- eastern part of the state, and becoming absorbed in name, with a tribe of Cherokees dwelling on tho border line, secretly bewailing the fate of the nation of whicli he was once so proud to be a descendant. T was with him much, as he often came to Clarksville. and as always a great favorite with the whites. But I never knew what finally became of him. He took great pleasure in relating the tradition as to the »rigin of the Chickasaws east of the Mississippi river. He said their ancient home was in Arkansas and to the west- ward ; and, that when they decided to migrate across the Great Father of Waters, they took with them a |)ole. which was to serve them as a guide as to the direction they should laking each morning. When night came on, tiiey encamped, ind when halted for the purpose, they would set the pole upright in the ground, and ne.xt morning they would see which way it leaned, and would judge that the Great Spirit lad caused it to point in the direction he designed them to 42 LAST OF THE PIONEERS take. They also took along a very large dog, that would serve them as a guard, by barking and warning them of the presence of their enemies. \\'ith their guard and guide, they journeyed on toward the great river ; but before reach- mg it. they passed by a great sink-hole, and here was the last thev ever saw of their doiz". At nisfht; thev fancied they /leard his piteous howls, and so long as the distance was not too great, when they took any scalps in thcii battles with their enemies, thev would send them back and throw them into the sink-hole to the dog. After crossing the Mississippi, they continued their journey until they reached the present site of Huntsville in Alabama. Here, they were in great doubt and imcertainty as to what direction to take, as the pole was in an unsettled condition for several days. This was considered as a bad omen, and many of the tribe passed on toward the east, into the Carolinas ; but the others waited for the pole to become settled, which it did after a time, and pointed in a north- west direction. Each night the pole was planted, and each morning it pointed in the same direction, until they had crossed the Tennessee river, just above the Muscle Shoals. The first morning after crossmg the river the pole stood per- fectly upright, leaning, in no direction. They waited for several days, but neither wind nor weather had the etfect to change its position, and, as the country was all that their hearts could wish, they decided that this was truly the "promised land," and here they made their home until the culmination of their sad and melancholy fate at the hands of superior tribes, and the intrigues of thoir pale-face brothei. LAST OF THE PIONEERS 43 EARLY METHODS, MANNERS, AND CUSTOMS. People who have grown up within the last thirty years can have but a very faint idea of the methods employed by our forefathers in nearly everything pertaining to domestic economy. Our grandmothers planted the cotton, gathered the fiber from the bowls when ripened, picked out the seeds by hand, carded the cotton with hand-cards into rolls, spun these rolls on a home-made spinning wheel into thread, col- ored this thread with home-made dyes, and wove it into cloth on a home-made loom. This cloth, coarse and strong, was cut out and made into garments of the most simple pat- terns, and worn with the same pride and satisfaction that the people now wear the ready-made fabrics with costly trim- mings. No regard, whatever was paid to any dictates of fashion, and if some one wished to varv some old shape or form in a garment to suit themselves, they felt perfectly at liberty to do so, without any fear that they would become a laughing stock for being ''out of style." Woolen clothes, of course, were provided for winter wear, and the carding, spinning, and weaving were per- formed much in the same way as the cotton. Hemp shirts were frequently made for the slave boys and girls. These shirts could be cut, but not torn. i\Iany a time, in crossing a fence, I have caught my shirt on a knot or splinter, and in jumping to the ground, have thrown my whole weight on my shirt, and have found myself hanging up against the fence, and my feet off the ground. Often in climbing >aplings, I have hung myself on a knot by my tow shirt, but I never tore. The flax was prepared in a different wav from 44 LAST 01' THE PIOXEERS tlic cotton and wool. The flax stalks were cut at a proper time and tied in bundles. These Inmdles were then placed in water so as to loosen the bark from the stalks. The bark was the part from which the thread was made. After the bark had become loosened, it was taken to a "break" which broke up the stems so that the l)ark, or tiber could be easil\ separated from the broken stems l)v drawin.^;^ it repeatedly through the "hackle" — a l)oard with a great number of sharp spikes driven through it. After other processes of prepara- tion, it was ready to be si)un into thread. But the spinning ^f flax thread required a difl"erent kind of wheel from the cotton or wool, and was called a "flax wheel." On account of the time and labor involved in the making of flax thread, not a great deal of it was made; but long after they ceased weaving the tow cloth, much thread was made for sewing Jeather, and for other jnuposes. Much of the wool was used by being spun into yarn for knitting into stockings and gloves for the family. \\'hile the children would gather around the wide fire-place and pick cotton from the seeds ; the mother or eldest daughter would be spinning thread ; some one would be carding rolls; the father, apt as not, would be making a pair of shoes; a split basket, or "Ijottoming" a chair with splits. Sometimes the mother's "evening job" would be knitting, and when she would pay her neighbor a visit, she would invariably take lier knitting along, and, during her stay, would frequently knit "the old man," as the husband was called, a pair of socks. r>ut each member of the family, unless it was the baby, had some kind of work, and no one left the circle until one of the parents called out "bed-time." There were no / LAST OF THE PIONEERS 45 lamps, and as a rule, the room was lii^hted 1)y hnj^c pine kiuits brought from a neighboring- ridge. Often, however, home- made candles were used. These were made l)y pouring melted beef tallow into moulds in which a wick had been sus- pended. When these were cooled, the moulds were slightly heated, which loosened the candles. Mutton tallow was never used for this purpose, it l)cing mixed with rosin and balm-of-gilead buds to form a very useful salve for cuts, sores, and burns. The skins of the animals killed for meats, such as the cow and sheep, were tanned at home. The hides were soaked in a strong solution of lime and water, and the hair was removed. The surplus flesh still adhering to the hide, was then all scraped off, and finally the hide was soaked in a strong tan-ooze' made from the bark of the chestnut oak, un- til experience taught the tanner that it was now fit for leather. Generallv, eacli neighborhood contained a ])rofessional cobbler who went from house to house, and cut out and lasted the shoes for winter wear, as few used them in the summer season. After the shoe had been "lasted," that is, the eye-seams sewed, and fitted and pegged to the last, it re- quu-ed very little skill to peg on the bottoms and heels, which the farmer usuallv did himself on wet davs. 'i'he last and IK'gs were home-made, and comfort and durabilitx. and not beauty, were the prime considerations. !n tliose days we never heard of corns on the toes — nature's penalty for pride. A pair of shoes were supposed to last a person for a whole year, and they were not jjut to any unnecessary use. It was a custom to go bare-footed — both men and women — to al- most the church, when thev would sit down an. several inches broad, and several inches thick, wliicii had to be forijed out and hammered down to the required sizes.- These hu,^e bars of iron were heated in a fire made of char- coal, burnt of pine or chestnut wood, often in a i)it in the shop yard. While the blacksmith was burninj^- his coal-i)it. or usini^ the lit^ht, sparklin<^ fuel on his heav\ 1)ars of iron. the people of \'irg;inia and Pennsylvania were bursting; up. and building roads with the very things tiiat revolutionized blacksmithing — stone coal — and did not know its value. It is amusing to one who remembers the introduction of stone coal into the old-time blacksmith shoj). There was almost as nuich prejudice evidenced by the peoi)le generallv as bv the blacksmith. Some said that it would burn and scorch the iron so that it would be brittle. In manv agreements be- LAST OF THE PIONBBRS V.) tween the customer and smith for work, it was stipulated that the iron work was not to be done with stone coal. lUit, like all other improvements, it came into use gradually, and its superiority over charcoal for a high, quick heat, had to l)e established by experience. Another fact, equally patent, is, that no mechanic or artisan has been so completely put out of business, or his trade rendered almost next to useless by the invention of machinery as the blacksmith. Once, the most indispensable, now perhaps, his entire disappearance from the mechanical trades of the country, would produce the least inconvenience of any. Every article that the black- smitli was once looked to to make, is now produced by ma- chinery, and can be bought much cheaper than it could be made by him. OLD TniE WORKINGS. The most distino-uishino; feature or characteristic of earlv ])ioneer da}s was the many social gatherings of neighlxjrs for nmtual assistance in the performance of labor too heavy for a single individual. The land was grown over with hea\y timber and it all had to be cleared and fenced. One man could not manage the heavy logs alone, and so the neighbors would be informed that on a certain da\' they were to meet at this man's **new ground." and participate in a log-rolling and rail-si)litting. Accordingly they all came with their axes and mauls. Some would l)e put to chopping down tlie trees, some to chopping off the cuts, some to splitting rails, and some to rolling together into large heaps such logs as would not split into rails. The boys would also come to pile, in oO LAST OF THE PIONEERS large heaps, the hrush and small liml)s. These same brush heaps would, during the winter, become the roosting places of thousands of small birds, the killing of wdiich, after dark, woukl afford a fine, but a very cruel sport for these same boys. FIRE HUNTING. But these heaps of ])ru.sh, especially if they were cut and piled while the buds and leaves were on, afforded a far more exciting sport for the men, after night, than for the boys. When the leaves or buds had wilted in the hot sun, they gave forth a very sweet scent which was very enticing to deer in the vicinity of the ''clearing," and they were attracted in great numbers by it. On dark nights, it was an easy matter, by means of a light or tire, to approach very near to these animals feeding on the wilted leaves, and shoot them. It was the custom to fire-hunt about these new grounds a great deal, and the hunters were usually quite successful, fre- quently killing several at one shot. One person would pro- cure a shovel or pan of fire, and proceed a few feet in ad- vance of the one with the gun, who would watch for the shining of the animal's eyes. For, when the men began to approach silently and cautiously, the deer would cease feed- ing, and gaze in astonishment, at the ajiproaching light: and as soon as the eyes were seen, the hunter would fire, and gen- erally, with effect. But, as the people began raising more cattle and sheep, it became too frequently the case that these domestic animals were more often killed than deer. Besides, careless or designing hunters were not so particular as to the LAST Of THE FIONBHRS 51 kind of animal killed, so that it afforded meat ; and, conse- quently, fire-hunting was eventually prohibited by law. Thus passed another very excitinj^, old-time sport. HOUSE RAISINGS, ETC. These men were strong and hardy, and the amount of work that was done at one of these "workings" would aston- ish people of the present day. It was a favorite occasion for the showing off of strength and general physical manhood, and many and severe were the tests to which the aspirants for honor were subjected. While there was generally plenty of home-made liquor on hand, and of which, each one usually partook quite freely, it was not the modern kind that takes the reason from the mind, and puts the devil into the heart. The utmost good humor prevailed, and, the funnier they became, the friendlier they were. Or, it may have been a settler's cal)in to be built: for, when a new family came into the neighborhood, the neigh- bors would all join in. and build them a house. This usually required two "workings." The first day they would go to the woods and get the logs ready. Some would chop down the trees; some would measure and cut off the logs; some would "scutch" the logs ; and others would come along with a broadaxe, and hew two sides of the logs flat. The next day these logs would be hauled or dragged to the place where tlie cabin was to lie built, and the "house-raising," would take place. Four men would be selected to "carry uj) the corners," which consisted in notching and fitting the logs so that they 52 LAST OF THE PIONEERS would be close together, while the others would bring up the logs. This would continue until what we would consider a very low, one-story pen would be built. Then the end logs would be gradually shortened, and sloped, and the long poles to support the roof would be laid up instead of side logs. After these poles were all up. long, thin clap-boards would be put on, and heayy weight-poles would be used to hold them down, as there were no nails. In the meantime, some of the men had been s])litting out logs into pieces four or fiye inches thick, for the floor. These were called puncheons, and were fitted in for the Hoor, making it as tight as possible. This much uf the work usually constituted the day's work, leaying. for the man who was to occupy the house, the job lit building a stick-and-nmd chinmey, to chink and daub the cracks, and to lay the hearth of fiat stones. When the house was completed, the owner usually gaye an old-fashioned l)art\ in honor of the friends whose kindness had furnished him a home. The door of the primitive log cabin extended from the first log at the bottom to the top one, and was closed with a shutter made of puncheons similar to the floor, except the} were thinner. These pieces were fastened together by wooden pins, and the door was hung with wooden hinges. The fireplace occupied the greater amount of the space oi one end. When this was piled full of wood and set on fire, and a large pine knot thrown on. the room was sufficiently heated and lighted. These cabins were usually built near a good spring of water, and. in most cases, in the middle of the clearing, so that the a])proach of a bear, a wolf, (^r an Indian could be seen. LAST OP THE PIONEERS .',;; THE CORN HUSKING. In the late fall, when the corn was ripe, and feathered in. there would he at each settler's ca1)in, another j^atherinj:;' of neighhors, this time, to help husk out the corn. This social function was a regular, annual feature, and was looked for- ward to with much interest. Much fun was, in some way or other, injected into the occasion. It was a custom rarely omitted to have a jug of corn juice placed in the center of the corn heap, and the crowd was divided into two equal divis- ions, and placed on opposite sides, and the race was to see which side would he the first to reach the jug. ( )ther con- tests were to impose a fine of a gallon of "the article" on the one huskine the fewest numher of red ears. '?> THE QUILTING BEE. Frequently, also, at the same time, the farmer's wife would em])race this occasion to have the ladies, young and old, of the neighborhood come and assist her in ([uilting a quilt. \Mien the two afifairs came off on the same day, the night would 1)e most surely devoted to games, plays and dancing. In those days, everybody was invited, and every- body expected to come or render a good excuse at the first opportunity. If there happened to be some one in the neigh- borhood who was not deemed worthy to be invited, he con- strued it to mean that his permanent alisence from tliat com- nuinity would fill a long- felt want. It was also expected of a person having a "working," that he would, for the time at least, lay aside any little petty differences. <>r prejudice, that 54 LAST OF THE PIONEERS mi^s^ht exist between himself and a neighbor, and invite him along with the others. So, to a great extent, these gather- ings were directly instrumental in wiping out old grudges and renewals of friendship. But as the people became more prosperous, they became more independent, and began drift- ing apart. Prosperity seems to breed selfishness, and de- grades the social standard of the people. Later, I have seen the chasm between the people widened by differences in po- litical and religious opinions to such an extent as to almost wipe out all reverence for the good old customs of the good old times of long ago. Schools and churches may increase, education and religion may become more widely diffused, but the world will never again witness the generosity, the hos- pitality, the unadulterated community of common interest, and common welfare, as that exhibited in the relations of pioneers to each other. The log cabin and the pioneer can never again be factors of our civilization. It is doubtful if history could ever repeat itself to the extent of their repro- duction. There is no longer a westward march toward civili- zation, no longer a frontier. Alas ! for the good old days of our grandparents. In those days a life seemed to count for nnich. All the power and intiuence of an individual seemed directed toward a worthy end, and left an impression, recognized and felt by every one. Now a life seems to be swallowed up and forgotten in the rushing, mighty whirl of these days of steam and electricity. The plain, simple food, and the plain, simple dress, and the freedom from the worry and excitement induced by the fierce competition and rivalry, and the greed of fame and for- tune, resulted in good health and long life to the people : and LAST OF THE PIONEERS ^ry hence, with an undisturbed mind and body, and a full meas- ure of days, they were enabled to more fully fulfil the great object of their existence on earth. The excesses and indulg- ences of modern times were the rarest exceptions. Though lacking much that we are disposed to call advantages, still what they accomplished must be considered something won- derful. SCHOOL AND CHURCH— TEACHER AND PREACHER. But the two institutions in which, next to their homes, the people felt the keenest interest, were the church and school. These buildings were built in easy reach of the entire community. Everybody was eager to lend a hand in their construction. In size they, especially the church, was some- what larger, and in general appearance more regard was had to neatness than the simple dwellings. The jireacher and teacher, for the sake of economy, was generally combined in one individual, who, if he was not the head of a family in the community, usually boarded around among the patrons of his church and school. He was, by virtue of his high and varied calling, an individual of no common importance. He received due credit for all the displays of the good quali- ties of his mind and heart. No one grudged his share of the meager contribution to the support of this distinguished and indispensable personage. His services did not come high, and he was content with very plain keeping in the way of food and raiment so long as he was accorded a hearty fire- side welcome, and received the respect due one of his high 56 LAST OF TUB PIOXEERS .station. Besides being the general adviser of the community in all things both spiritual and temporal, he was likewise the arbiter in matters of difference among the people, and from whose decision there was seldom an appeal. He taught school six days in the week, and preached on Sunday at the church. He also officiated as master of ceremonies at the weddings, and occupied a conspicuous seat at the table when the "infair" came off. He sang songs and offered prayers at the bedside of the sick and afflicted. And if, in response to his earnest petitions that the life of the sick one be spared, death finall\ closed the scene, he was given the credit of cheering the bed of death by glowing descriptions to the suf- ferer of a blissful immortality. At the grave, his voice in praise of the dead and in prayer for the living, as well as the old soul-stirring song, awakened the tenderest feelings, and disposed the minds of the listeners to the solemn rellec- tions of the brevity of life, and the myster\- and certainty of death. THE SCHOOL. His school duties consisted not onlv in hearins: the chil- dred read and si)ell, and in directing them in a few simple operations of "ciphering," but in making ink, shaping goose- quills into pens, and ruling paper for cojn- books. His school sessions lasted nearly all day, and tardiness was treated as a crime. Order was maintained by mere physical force, and the rod was brought down with certainty and force on every offender, male or female, large or small, for the verv slightest offence. If the child was spoiled, it was not from sparing the rod. LAST OF THE PIONEERS 57 THE PREACHER. His preaching, thoui^li delivered with simphcity, was yet vigorous and vehement. His sermons were not characterized by the breadth, scope, and variety as are those of modern days, but were selected from a com})aratively limited rani^e of subjects. ^ These were the Fall of Adam, the Flood, the Judgment, iTie Crucifixion and such others as would necessarily produce a considerable wave of feeling in the audience, to be strength- ened and reinforced by the impassioned delivery of the preacher. Xo one was disappointed if he heard the same ser- mon, with slight variations three or four times in the course of a year's preaching. The efforts of the preacher seemed always actuated by practical considerations. Two things of the most overshadowing importance to his hearers were con- stantly impressed with the greatest vehemence and earnest- ness. One was the necessity of spiritual preparation in order to escape everlasting punishment, and the other was in order to reach heaven. In order to force the considerations liome to the heart and conscience, he spared no words of liorrible meaning in order to portray the untold agonies of hell, nor those of opposite import, to depict the priceless blessedness of heaven, with no thought that he was appealing to, stirring up, and encouraging only the most selfish motives. But after all, perhaps his preaching was most effective by virtue of this fact. HARVESTrXG AND THRESHING. The amount of wheat and oats raised in the early ilays 58 LAST OP THE PIONEERS of our country was very small compared with the present. But if the people were under the necessity of using the same methods of cutting their wheat, and cleaning out the grain, as were used fifty years ago, very little would be raised now. In those days, the grain was cut with a reap-hook. This was done by the person taking hold of as much of the straws as he could hold in his left hand, then using the reap-hook with his right hand, with a quick stroke, cut off the straws, and place them in bunches to be tied in bundles. The bundles were placed in shocks until thoroughly dry, then they were taken to the threshing-floor of the barn, and the heads all placed toward the center, and the butts outward. The grain was then beaten out with a hickory flail. Some used horses to tramp out the grain. The grain and chaff' was then gathered up and poured into a fan mill and cleaned. This was a slow, laborious process, and it required so much time and labor that very little wheat was grown. Oats were fed in the sheaf, and only enough were threshed for seed. In time, the cradle was invented, and with this a good hand would cut from two to four acres a day. About the time the cradle came into use, some yankees invented a threshing machine. The first machine did not separate the grain from the chaff, and the fan mill was used the same as before, in a year or two, a machine was brought out that threshed and separated the grain. This machine marks the era of the wheat field. Wheat was no longer raised in patches. Init fields were sown with it, as well as with oats. The reap-hook and the wooden flail were laid aside, and the darkeys had an easier time. The meadows then consisted of a narrow level strip of land along the branch or creek. The grass was cut with an LASl^ OF THE PIONEERS 59 old Dutch scythe, that was sharpened on an iron stake driven into a stump or block, and beaten out with a hammer. This required to be done very frequently, and but little could be cut in a day. But as better blades were made with which to cut the grass, larger spaces were put in meadow, and more hay was raised. Later on, came the mowing machine, which did more to revolutionize farming than any one invention. The farmer then realized that any good land, no difference whether it was bottom land or not, would produce hay. Then he began to rest his land from corn by growing grass on it. Hay proved to be a great fattening food for stock, and was so much cheaper than corn that its use was very nuich in- creased. This resulted in the farmer keeping his cattle on the farm and fattening them on grass, and was the means of making far better times for him. The land was fresh and fertile, and produced abundant crops of corn, but it was not profitable to raise more than was needed for home use, as there was not much market for it. True enough, va^ quanti- ties of it was distilled into whiskey, but this article sold for fifty cents a gallon, and many farmers furnislied the corn to the distiller and took a share of the product. The woods af- forded acorns and chestnuts sufficient to fatten the hogs, and very little corn was fed to them. The great trouble was that there was so much woods that the hogs became wild, and late in the fall, the trouble of capturing and killing them was a tremendous job. Sometimes a farmer would bait his hogs at some point in the woods, and by feeding them with corn, get them sufficiently tame to entice them into a field with a strong, high fence, by scattering corn along, leading through a gap, and when all or several were inside, close up the gap, i;0 LAS7' Of THE PIOXBBRS and begin the fun. This was a thrilhng, 1)iit a very danger- ous sport. The animals were very wild and vicious. \\ hen wounded or hemmed, they would charge upon their pursuers with a headlong dash, and nothing but a stroke sufficient to kill, would check them. It was folly to bring a dog among them : for as soon as he seized one of them, tiie whole herd would attack him and rip him literally into strings with their long tusks. They would sometimes attack a horse upon which the farmer was riding, and would sometimes be badly wounded despite his kicking. They were generally all shot that were sufficiently fat to be killed : then the smaller ones and the thin ones were turned back into the woods for another year. It was often the case that these animals were so wild that they could no more be led into an enclosure than a drove of foxes. Then the sport took on a different form. They were hunted with dog and gun just as the bear was hunted, only it was more exciting and dangerous. The hunter would take his gun, mount his horse, call his dog, or dogs, and ride into the woods, lie would soon either tind a herd of hogs, or their sign. The dog was sent in i)ursuit, and would gen- erally bay them in a short time. .\ bark or two was usually all the farmer heard ; for at once, on sight of the dogs, the hogs would set up such a hideous, deafening grunting that they could be heard for two miles or more. The dog knew better than to catch one, for he would have been torn to pieces in a moment, but would run around the herd, keeping them in a dense mass, with their attention engaged until the hunter could ride near, dismount, and sli]) u]) in shooting distance, and perhaps shoot two or three l)efore they would take alarm LAST OP TUB PIONEERS Gl at the falling of their friends and break away. This was all that was attempted that day, or perhaps for a week until they would partially recover from their fright, and return to wnthin a reasonable distance of the farmer's home. After shooting one or more of them, he would return, get assist- ance and bring his wagon, and haul in, and dress them. This would be repeated about every week until a sufficient suj)])]) of meat was secured. The hunter was careful to hitch his horse so as to reach him should the hogs perceive him. and make a dash for him, which they have been often known U) do. Then the only means of escape was to reach the horse, or succeed in climbinsf a tree bevond their reach. Thev w^ould often besiege the hunter up the tree for hours, grunt- ing viciously. Frequentlv farmers owning a drove of wild hogs wtnild give permission, or engage the services of hunters by giving them half of all they w^ould kill. These were a different species of hog from the kind now in the country. They were much taller and longer, and had long, slim noses and enorm- ous tusks in the jaws. It was with great difficulty that a dog could catch one in a fair race. Tiiey were the terror of the woods, and would face any kind of enemy, and bears and wolves were careful not to attack the jiigs while the old ones were near. The meat was much inferior to that of our pres- ent hog. It was tough and soon liecame strong and odorous. It lacked the tenderness and the juicy Havor of the meat of the present day. : The first saw mills, and indeed the onlv ones tiiai were 62 LAST 01' THE PIOXEERS in the country until witliin the last thirty years were the old sash saws. It required a whole day to saw a large log into inch lumber. The machinery was very simple and cumber- some, but the arrangement for feeding and backing the log, was very ingenious for that day and time. In one of the early settlements there was a saw mill in a wild section of the country, on a creek, a mile or so from any dwellings. A man and his son were running the saw mill. As the saw cut so slowly, and as they w^ere anxious to get all the lumber cut possible, they concluded when the noon hour arrived, to just sit on the log and eat their dinner, and let the sawing con- tinue. While eating their dinner they spied a bear that had been attracted by the scent of the food, coming toward them. They left the food on the log and sprang up into the saw-mill loft for safety. The bear, seeing the sudden disappearance of the men. and doubtless very hungry, came boldly into the mill, climbed up on the log, sat upright on his haunches, with his back to the saw, and began helping himself to the food. He was in the full enjoyment of meal, which he was devour- ing with a hearty relish, when the saw, which had been gradually creeping up to him, gave his back a cruel rake. The bear supjwsing no doubt that it was some one disputing his right to the dinner, in a fit of rage, whirled around just as the saw was coming down again, seized it in his teeth, and got liis mouth very badly cut with the saw. Then realizing that a desperate battle was to be fought, the bear arose to his favorite fighting position, threw his arms around the saw, and with the next downward stroke was saw^ed nearly in two, and rolled ofif the log on the floor dead. The men had been watching the performance from the loft above, and now came LASl^ OP THE PIONEERS (i8 down, skinned the bear, and carried his carcass home to he eaten by them, being well pleased with the exchange of their dinner for enough bear meat to last them for a week. It was, as soon as practicable, the custom to have a saw mill in every community, and though the amount of lumber sawed was small, still it had a wonderful effect on building. The floors were made of planks ; the doors were made of it ; tables ; shelves, and boxes were made of it ; and the con- veniences of the home were much increased by the use of lumber. Houses could be more easily and quickly built, and were much more tasty and comfortable. It is said that Gov. Blount imported weatherboarding from North Carolina, his former home, with which to encase the huge log mansion built for him in Knoxville. The little "corn-crackers" were usually built at the same time and operated by the same power as the saw-mill. The mill-stones were of a very rough, inferior character, and the grinding was necessarily slow. The grist was almost in- variably left at the mill for several days, the miller usually l)eing able to guess with tolerable accuracy when it could be called for. It is related that a rather witty boy on calling for his meal, was informed that it was just put up for gri^uling. and that he could wait until it was ground, and take it back with him. He concluded to do so. He stood by aneforc these corn mills were built the people were subjected to the greatest inconvenience in order to procure bread. Many, indeed, (U LAST OP THE PJOXEERS did much of the time without it. Instead, corn was parched and eaten so, or the corn was pounded into meal, and baked into bread. Adam Meek, who settled about the year 1785. in the valley near Strawberry Plains, obtained his meal for a lon^ time near Greeneville. But the early county records show that among the first acts of the county courts were pre- mits to dam the creeks and erect mills. Knox county court was organized on June 1(3, 1792, and the records show that on the same day, Wm. Henry obtained leave to build a mill on Roseberry creek. Grainger county court was organized June 13,170(), and at this term of court, permits were issued to Nichols T. Perkins to erect a mill on Chamberlain, now Stiffey creek; to \\\\\. Thomi)son, on Butlalo creek: and to Wm. Stone, near the mouth of Richland creek. In the year 178(), a man l)y the name of Hazlitt built a mill on Beaver creek, near Mr. Meek. After six or seven years this was re- placed by a better one built by James Walker. Adam Peck- was the first settler on Mossy creek, and built a mill just be- low the present town in 17SS. Some of these old time mills have been entirely destroyed, others have been relmilt and equipped with modern milling machinery. ]jefore the settlers could obtain meal ])arched corn was a staple article of diet. On many of the long exjxnlitions against the Indians the soldiers carred with them bags of parched corn, and slices of dried bear's or deer's flesh. SALT. Salt was for a long time a great luxury with the old set- tlers, and. as vou mav imagine, was difficult to obtain. Peo- LAST or THE PIONEERS 65 pie, on their hunting; expeditions discovered trails leadinj^ or converging to a point, like the spokes of a wheel, and by following these trails, discovered that they lead to "salt licks." These salt licks were places where salt-water oozed from the ground, and to which the deer and buffalo would come to lick the salt. Hence, they were called "salt licks." The people boiled and evaporated this water, and thus ob- tained their first supplies of salt. The licks were the best places for the hunter to kill these animals. At the same time, other beings would know by instinct or experience, the same thing as the white hunter. The Indian had known, long before the white man, this favorite spot, and he. too, most likely, would be watching beside this same lick, and the white man would have to exercise the greatest caution, or he would receive a bullet that was at first intended by the Indian for a deer, \\nicn the Indians learned that the white men were hunting at the lick, they kept almost a continual watch on the trails that led to them, so that it became too dangcrou.s for the settlers to hunt at them. The ])anther also knew that the deer would come to lick the salt-water and it was not an infrequent sight to see two or three of these ferocious brutes lying stretched on the limbs of as many trees, ready to spring on the unsuspecting animal that chanced to pass within reach. He, too, was a foe to be dreaded by the hunter: for such a mark for a rifie as he would make stretched out his full length on a horizontal limb, wcnild constitute a temptation too strong to be resisted by the hunter. Stange as it may seem, more shots by an experienced hunter would result in wcninding than in killing the animal ; and then, unless badly cripi)led, he would make a ferocious assault on the hunter, who con- 68 LAST OP THE PIOXEERS sidered liimself fortunate to escape with his life. If he did not have time to reload his gun, and the beast came on him. he would light, using his gun barrel and large hunting knife. THE WILD TURKEYS. Another sport greatly relished by the early hunter was the hunting of wild turkeys. These large birds were eagerly sought for by the hunter as their flesh was exceptionally fine, and their feathers would make good pillows. One way of hunting them was to go out into the woods before daylight and listen for the gobble of the male or the loud twit of the hen. They came down from the roost about daybreak, and for several minutes would keep up almost a continual gobbling and twitting so that the hunter could approach the flock, and be ready to shoot one by the time it was light. They were quite easy to take alarm, and it was a difticult thing to approach them when they were scattered. The hunter would have but little hope of doing this, and would generally risk his chances by concealing himself and waiting until they fed within reach. As a rule, they would feed in one general direction and travel in this course for hours. So that a hunter would often climb high into a tree in order to watch them to find out which way they were traveling : and if going in an opposite direction, he would climb down from the tree, make a long circuit around them, and conceal him- self in front of them. Some hunters took a bone from the turkey's leg and made a kind of whistle with which they could imitate the gobble of a turkey, and could generally succeed in calling LAST OF THE PIONEERS 07 them up within shooting distance. The white man learned this from the Indian, and it was said that some of the IncHans could use this deception so well that they could even 1)eat the turkey at his own gobble. This device was a great advant- age to the early hunter, and often enabled him to carry home a big fat turkey that he could have obtained in no other way. The Indian was not slow to learn the white man's fondness for turkey, and by means of his whistle, has enticed many a settler from his cabin, and lured him to his death. Often has a hunter taken down his gun on hearing the gobble of a turkey, as he supposed, and left his family in anticipation of a feast, never to again see his cabin. In one of the western settlements was a man by the name of Castleman, who lived for a time with another settler whose name I can not recall. Castleman was an expert in the use of the turkey whistle and could imitate the birds al- most perfectly, and at the same time could distinguish be- tween the genuine sound and the imitation. He frequently remonstrated with the other settler who was disposed to hunt for every noise resembling that of a turkey. One day Castleman went out hunting alone and rather early. He had not been gone long before the other man heard, near his cabin, what he was sure was the gobble of a turke> . 1 le took down his gun and went in the direction of the sound. Not long afterward, the sound of a gun was heard and the family expected him to return in due time with the turkey. Time passed, but he did not return, and they supposed that he had concluded to go on a farther hunt. About noon, Castleman returned, and. on inquiry, was told about the man going to t^nd the turkev he had heard, of the firing of the gun, and H8 LAST OP THE PIOXEERS was also informed of the strangest part of the affair, that the noise continued to be heard at the same place. Castleman stepped into the yard to listen, and sure enough, heard the sound, and rightly suspected tlic fate of his friend. He picked up his rifle, telling the family that he would kill that "turkey." Instead, however, of going in tlie direction whence the noise proceeded, he took a round-a-bout way, and came up 1)ehind the ol)ject of his hunt. The noise con- tinued and he had no difficulty in locating it. He crept up softly, and saw by a stump, not a turkey, but an Indian, with his gun across the stum]), watching in the direction of the cal)in. A well directed shot from Castleman's riHe killed the savage, whose long hunting-knife was still covered with the blood of a recent scalp. Proceeding about fifty yards in the direction of the ca])in, Castleman came across the dead body of his friend, pierced by the Indian's bullet. The Indian knew that there were two men belonging at the cabin, and was endeavoring to entice the other one out to be shot and scalped. THE TL'RKEY PEN. I'esides liunting the wild turkey in tlie wavs ab(~)vc men- tioned, the old hunter fre(iuently Iniilt what he termed a turkey-pen. First he dug a trench about two feet wide and about a foot and a half deep, gradually ascending until at the end of ten feet, it sloped up to the surface. Tlie fresh dirt was removed or carefully covered over with dry leaves. A pen of fence rails, two or three feet high, was built over the last four or live feet of the ditch, and covered securely. LAST Of run pioneers m Grain of some kind was then scattered in the (htch leachnj^ into the pen. The fowls would follow the grain into the pen, and they were safely imprisoned, for it never occurred to them to look downward, or to go out hy way of the ditch. Often the entire flock was thus captured at one time. EARLY ROADS. The first roads in the newly settled country were narrow worn lanes, scarce two feet wide, lightly trodden over pine needles and fallen leaves among the tree trunks hy the soft moccasined feet of the tawny savages as they silently walked in Indian file through the forests. These paths were soon deepened and worn hare by the heavy hobnailed shoes of the early settlers. Others were formed by the slow tread of domestic cattle, the ]K\st of all path-makers, as they wound around the hillsides to pasture or to drinking ])lace. Then a scarcely broader 1)ridle-path for horses, perhaps with ])lazed trees as guide posts, widened slowly to traveled roads and uneven cart ways. These roads followed and still wind to- day in the very lines of the footpath and the cattle track. Wet and marshy places were laid with poles cut in ten foot lengths and laid closely across the road. Some of these laid with pine poles served their purpose after a use of fifty years. They were called corduroy roads, and was the first efi'ort at road improvement. The first turni)ike in America was made when I was a small boy (l?8r)-8()) in \irginia, starting at Alexandria and extending down the Shenandoah \alley. It was at a tavern on this turni)ike-. while on a cattle drive to Petersburg, with my master, tlint 1 saw George Washington. 70 LAST Of THE PIOXEBRS I was a small boy, and did not then know how great a man he really was, but I well remember how he looked. THE OLD-TIME WAGON. I saw the first wagon ever used in the part of Virginia where I lived. It was the same kind as was first used ev^ery- whcre in the new settlements where wagons were used at all. It was called the Conestoga wagon, that 1)eing the name of the place in Pennsylvania where they were first made. They were of the same general plan upon which wagons of the present day are made — the difi-'erence consisting only in such improvements as have been made to render it less clumsy and more durable. Suitable iron was so scarce that not much of it was used on these old-time wagons. The axles were made of a tough, young pine sapling, which being daily greased with pine tar, became so tough and hard as not to need skeins, and would last for years without them. Very few of them had iron tires ; and the first man to bring into the country about Blain's Cross Roads, in 1840, a wagon with tires made of iron, was, I believe, old Buckeye Craw- ford, who came from North Carolina, about that year, and settled by House Mountain. The hind wheels were much higher than they are now made ; and, for a reason I never knew. The beds were very long, and were curved, being higher at each end than the middle. It took a blacksmith six weeks to make and iron one of these beds. They had no locks to these wagons, the convenient brake being an inven- tion of the last forty years. A lock chain with a little fasten- ing device was used, and a wheel was not merely checked in LAST OF THE PIONEERS 71 its speed, but locked fast. Consequently the tires would soon be ground into many thin places. THE OLD-TIME STAGE COACH. A Toast to the Old Stage Coach. "Long- ago, at the end of the route, The stage pulled up, and the folks stepped out. They have all passed under the tavern door — The youth and his bride, and the gray three-score. Their eyes were weary with dust and gleam. The day had gone like an empty dream. Soft may they slumber, and trouble no more For their eager journey, its jolt and roar, In the old coach over the mountain." The writer finds that Uncle Pharaoh's description of the old-time stage coach in use when he was a boy, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, is almost identical with that given by Thomas Twining, an English writer, who traveled in New England in one of these vehicles in 1T95. So, the latter's description is given. "The vehicle was a long car with four benches. Three of these in the interior held nine passengers. A tenth pas- senger was seated by the driver on the front bench. A light roof was supported by eight slender pillars, four on each side. Three large leather curtains suspended to the roof, one at each side, and the third behind, were rolled up or lowered at the j^leasure of the passengers. There was no 72 LAST Of run PIONEERS place nor space for bag.f^^age. each person being expected to stow his things as he could, under his seat or legs. The en- trance was in front, over the driver's bench. Of course the three passengers on the back seat were obliged to crawl across all the other benches in order to get to their places. There were no backs to the benches to support and relieve us during a rough and fatiguing journey over a newly and ill-made road." The vehicle was called a stage coach because the dis- tance between the stations on the route were called stages ; and usually a fresh relay of horses was in readiness at each station. The distance between Xew York and Philadel- phia is two hundred and ninety-seven miles, and in 1812, it took six days to make the journey by stage coach. The fare for each passenger was twenty dollars, besides way-expenses of seven dollars more. The expense by wagon was five dollars a hundred weight for persons and property, and the way-expenses were twelve dollars, for it took twenty days. Each station was an inn, or ordinary, and afforded accom- modations for the passengers, at a moderate expense. Xot only did these afford food and lodging for the traveler, but he could also procure, if he chose to do so — and he usually did — almost any kind of drink which suited his taste. These various drinks were made of home i^rf)ducts, and mixed un- der various names. THK OLD-TIME TAVERX. OR ( )RI)FXARY. As has l)een stated, these taverns were located on the stage routes, and were usually a day's journey a])art, so that LAS7' OF THE PIONEERS 73 rest could be afforded for the horses, and food and shelter for the traveler. Encouragement and protection were af- forded these houses of entertainment by the county courts ; and no one was permitted to open and run an establishment of the kind without a license. The prices to be charged for meals and drinks was fixed by law ; and, in some places, the number of drinks to each person, were limited, in order to control drunkenness. Very stringent restrictions were placed on landlords in regard to the keeping of strangers. The names of these were given to the town authorities, who could, if they saw fit. warn such persons to leave at once, as might appear to be of a suspicious character, or whose presence at the place might be considered as dangerous or undesirable. In case action was taken, a record was made of it. Our ancestors were kind and hospitable to the worthy, but sternly intoler- ant of wrong-doers, or even of those suspected of evil inten- tions. Landlords were closely watched, and held strictly ac- countable, under heavy penalties, for the conduct of travelers or other persons frequenting their place. No loud singing, dancing, or other boisterous noises were allowed. Drunken- ness was strictly forbidden, and landlords were subject to have their license revoked, and heavy fines imposed, who allowed such conduct. A favorite location for the tavern was at a ferry ; and the landlord who was so fortunate as to control the patronage of a tavern and a ferry, held a posi- tion truly envied by his less fortunate neighbors, and was sure of a competence not afforded by any other calling of that day. The better class of old-time taverns always had a parlor. 74 LAST OF THE PIONEERS Til is was used as a sitting room for women travelers, or niij^ht be hired for the exchisive use of one wealthy person or family. It was not so jovial a room as the tap-room, where the drinks were dispensed, though in winter, an open fireplace gave to the formal furnishings that look of good cheer and warmth and welcome which is ever present, even in the meanest apartment, when from the great logs the tlames shot up glowing and crackling. We are more com- fortable now, with our modern ways of house-heating, but our rooms do not look as warm as when we had the old open fireplace. The Vd\) room was usually the largest room of the tav- ern. It had universally a great fireplace, a l)are, sanded fioor, and ample seats and chairs. It often had, also, a rather tall, rude writing desk, at which a traveler might write a letter or sign a contract, and where the landlord made out his bills and kept his books. But the principal feature of this room was the various kinds of drinks made and sold there. RAILROADS. No railroads were built in lower Virginia before the time we left tiiere to come to East Tennessee (about 1838), but several short lines of road had been built in the mining regi(Mis of Pennsylvania, and were in operation then. I never saw these railroads, but well remember the descrip- tions given me of them, by persons who had seen them. The track consisted of pieces of timber with strap iron spiked down on top of them. These spikes would soon come LAST OF Tim riOXEERS 75 loose, and the ends of the straps would turn up. and were called "snake-heads.'' These snake-heads were sometimes forced up through the cars, and did great damage. Snake- heads were as common in early railroading as snags were in early steamboating. Scarcely was a trip ever made that some serious accident of some kind did not occur. Few of these mishaps were fatal to life, but they generally resulted in crippling the machinery so that horses or oxen, often both, had to be impressed in order to drag the clumsy locomotive and its load to the nearest station for repairs. The brakes were very poor and would not stop the train. \Mien they came to a station, the engineer opened the safety valve and allowed the steam to escape, two big negroes would seize the end of the train, and hold it, while timbers would be placed across the track in front of the wheels. T.oth the engineer and the conductor favored a curved track in order that they might look back and see that everything was all right. A YEAR WITH NO SUMMEF< ( 1810). We call this (1901-2) a long, hartl winter, but I re- member a winter in Old \'irginia, when 1 was a young man. that far suri)assed any winter remembered by the oldest in- habitants. I heard the people here in East Tennessee speak of it after I came here over twenty years afterward. The winter of 18 IT) liad been, as was then usual, a very .severe one. and the cold frozen weather extended far into the new year. When time came for gardening in the spring, the fury of winter had not abated in the least. In April, the snow was from four to six feet deep. In May, the surface only 76 LAST Of THE PIONEERS had melted, and the ground could not be reached for plant- ing purposes. In June, the snow had melted, but the ground was still frozen hard, and toward the end of the month an- other snow had fallen, sufficiently for sleighing purposes, and lasted for days. On the morning of July 4, the water froze in the wells and pitchers of the early settlers, and there was excellent skating in the neighborhood ponds. Snow fell toward noon, and the usual Independence Day exercises were held in an old-time log church, warmed by blazing log fires, and partic- ipated in by men, women and children clad in mid-winter clothing. The spring, when it came in reality, was so short and severe that no vegetation could grow in it. In August, the corn that had struggled against the adverse conditions of climate, went to tassel so early that it was useless for any- thing except fodder. In the spring of 1817, farmers were obliged to pay unheard-of prices for seed corn raised in 1815. All kinds of breadstuffs went up until flour brought $17.00 a barrel. The winter following, as well as that preceding this re- markable summer, was likewise one of intense cold. All the streams were frozen over solid, and the usual hauling was done over the ice the same as on the land. The public health, however, was never better, and though the crops were a fail- ure, the old-time settler did not lose spirit, or become dis- couraged. There never was such a time before or since for hunt- ing deer. The snow had frozen so that a crust was formed on top that would hold up the weight of the dogs, but the LAST OF THE PIONEERS 77 sharp feet of the deer would break through, and they could not escape their pursuers, and so they were nearly all killed. They were never afterward very plentiful except in the mountains. Their flesh, however, was not verv good, as they had become poor through starvation, but were hunted and killed for mere sport. Many domestic animals likewise perished from cold and hunger. No, sir, our winters now do not compare with the old-time winters. They have been becoming milder for a hundred years or more. TRIP TO THE WESTERN DISTRICT. Old Master Jackson was very rich, and when he be- came very old, and thought he was soon going to die, he decided to divide his money and property among his children. His three daughters, and as he then thought, his other son, Sandy Jackson, were living in the far western part of the state. He concluded to send Master Corbin Jackson and myself with a wagon to the Western District to bring home his children. The government of North Carolina had commissioned a party of men to look out, survey, and clear out a road leading from the lower end of Clinch mountain, through Nashville to the Cumberland settlements. This road is now, and has ever since been called the Emory road, and was the only road deserving the name, leading from East Tennessee into the then far west. This road was made so that emi- grants from Virginia, North Carolina, and upper East Ten- nessee could reach the western part of the state which was being rapidlv settled up. Rut making a road then and 7S LAST or THE PI OX BURS now, are widely different. Then making a road meant the clearing out of the trees, logs, and larger stones from a strip of land through the woods, from ten to twenty feet wide. No ditching or grading was done, and the gullevs were filled in with logs or stones so that a traveler's wagon could cross. Any person who has traveled this road for any consid- erable distance can not fail to notice that the land on which the road was made, was not well chosen. It often winds over high hills, often making curves in order to do so, when it could have gone around them. As a reason for this, I was told that those men who looked out the road often fol- lowed Indian trails which generall} led over high hills in order for the Indians to take frequent views of the surround- ing countr\ , in their travels. They seemed to have had in mind the crossing of the streams, for the road usually leads to shallow places in the creeks and rivers, where fords were made by cleaning out the largest stones. As there were no railroads leading into the western country, we were obliged to make our trip over this road, and in many places, far from settlements, it was very bad indeed. Streams had washed across it and cut such gulleys that we had to fill them up, or to make a kind of bridge in order to cross. In some places, especially in the mountains, it had overgrown with bushes so that we had to use our axe. We had frequent trouble in trying to ford the streams that would get so full from the rains, besides, we did not know, and sometimes could not tell, just where the ford was. We started from Blain's Cross Roads at the lower end of Clinch Mountain in October, and the weather was quite LAST OP TUB PIONEERS ?'.> cool. Our traveling outfit was an old-fashioned covered wagon, pulled by two large horses, a bay and a black. It was a heavy, tar skein wagon, and required to be greased with pine tar grease every day. So I provided a large bucket full, hung underneath the wagon, to the tail pole. There was an old-fashioned feed-box to the hind gate of the wagon, where the horses were hitched to eat their noon meal. We also took with us sufficient quilts and blankets to keep us warm. Whenever we would happen to reach a settler's house about camping time, Mr. Jackson would generally sleep in the house, but I never slept in a house during the trip. I would always sleep in the wagon whether he was with me or not. We were afraid thieves would try to steal our horses and rob our wagon ; and many times the two large, fierce dogs we took with us would set up a furious barking, and more than once, on slipping out to our horses. have seen a man glide away among the trees, and disappear in the shadows. Sometimes one or more suspicious looking men would come around to our camp, apparently to talk, but we eyed them closed, and fancied we could detect them eyeing the place where, and the way we had fastened our horses. We would always try, in some way, to let them know that we were armed, and would defend ourselves. We gave, also, some great accounts of our dogs, how vicious they were. We would always build a large log fire when we camped for the night. This not only kept us warm, but served to keep away wildcats, bears and wolves that would be sure to prowl around our camp at night. Very often we would be awakened in the late hours of the night by the fierce barking 80 LAST OF THE PIONEERS of our dogs as though some human or animal was approacli- ing our wagon, which we knew was the case, and although we frequently heard retreating footsteps in the woods, we seldom saw anything, and never knew for sure whether it was man or beast. And while we did not live in particular dread of any danger, still we knew that we were just as lial)le to attack from one as form the other, and were always on our guard. Mr. Jackson and I were both very fond of broiled meat, and when we began cooking our meat over the fire, the scent of the scorching meat would be certain to attract any bear or wolf, or especially any wild cat that might be prowling about in the vicinity. These latter would come very near to our camps giving forth their vicious yells, until, at times, they seemed to be on every spur of the ridge or mountain. We did not care much for them, for we felt sure that our dogs and fire would keep them at a safe distance. We were not so positive, however, as to the wolves, which we knew went in packs, and when driven by hunger, would not hesi- tate to attack a whole wagon train. We only heard a few solitary howls from these savage brutes, and when they seemed to be rather close to our camp, we would discharge our pistols, and on hearing their howls, our dogs would be- gin barking furiously, and the stragglers would depart, not, however, until they had climbed to the highest ridge at hand, and given several savage howls, as if to summon help from a distance. But once we had a serenade from a panther which tried our nerves, and made the hair stand on end. This was when we encamped at the foot of Cumberland Mountain. It was a wild, desolate place, where several LAST OP THE PIONEERS SI spurs of the mountain reached down to tlie road where we fixed our camp. We had tied and fed our horses, cut some dry wood and made a rousing- fire — for the evening" was chilly — and began broiling our meat, when a scream, re- sembling that of a woman, in distress, was heard, on a spur of the mountain not a quarter of a mile distant. The first yell convinced me what it was, but Mr. Jackson insisted that it was a wolf. After about five minutes, another unearthly scream rent the still and solemn night. This time it was not more than half as far away, and our dogs were terribly ex- cited, and seemed to be actually frightened. After a few minutes the scream again broke upon our frightened ears, this time very close to us, but he had changed from a direct course toward us, and had crossed over to another spur, and we could hear him walking in the leaves. Our dogs had taken refuge under the wagon, and it was with great difficulty that we could induce them to come out. One of us got the axe, and another the large pistol we had with us, and prepared for a desperate fight, thinking that he meant to attack us.. But he went nearly around us, keeping about the same distance away, and dis- appeared in the opposite direction. We were glad when he left us. One who has once heard the scream of a panther is not likely to ever forget it, nor to ever want to hear it again. We were told by the settlers about the mountains, that these animals were very bold, and would come into the barnyard and carry off pigs and lambs, and had been known to spring on a child and carry it off and devour it. Their favorite method was to climb a stooping tree, or lie flat on a limb near a path where cattle, sheep or hogs were accustomed to >>2 LAST OF THE PIONEERS pass, and to pounce clown upon them. When cornered, they fight des])erately and easily whij) ofif a whole pack of dogs, frequently killing- several of them. It took us a whole day to cross the mountain, and we camped at a cabin on the other side. Mr. Jackson slept in the cabin, and I slept in the wagon. That night we were not disturbed. On the next night, we reached a house and, as usual, Mr. Jackson stayed in the house. It had been rain- ing a great deal that day, and continued raining at night. We got shelter for our horses, and T brought my quilts in, and slept on the porch, the dogs staying with the wagon. Xext morning I was a\vakened~t)nr' something sharp being poked against me. When 1 aroused up, there stood about a dozen regular soldiers about me. They had poked me with their sharp sabres. 1 was terri])ly scared at first to see the glittering guns and sabres, and the blue uniforms of the soldiers. They all wore high top boots, and big spurs. They asked me what was 1 doing there, where was I from, where was I going, and who was with me. I was trying to get my senses together enough so that I could tell them, when Mr. Jackson came out. They then left me alone and l)egan questioning him. He answered a few questions — what he thought was proper, and enough for them to know — and then told them that he knew his business and could take care of himself and did not need their protection, which seemed to make them somewhat angry. He generallv wore a cap in the house, and he had it on while he was talking to them. This cap seemed to amuse them very nuich. and they poked it with their swords and asked him what it was. This made him very angry, and finally, when they went LAST OF THE PIONEERS .s:{ away and left us, he pointed to his pistul, as niucli as to say tliat he would use it on them if they bothered him any more ; l)ut he did not think of it while they were there. We drove on, and met them twice that day, and they passed us twice going in our direction. They were well mounted, and each one carried his gun across his saddle in front of him. They seemed to be guarding about ten miles of the road, but we could not find out their business. After crossing the mountains nearly everybody we talked to told of the dreadful crimes of the nortorious Ten- nessee outlaw, John A. Murrell. He had been stealing slaves, robl^ing and murdering in all the western i)art of the country. I was almost scared to death for fear he would run on to us, and take me off. Mr. Jackson, seeing how l)adly frightened I was, thought to have nuich fun (^ut of me, and told me many horrible things he had read and heard of Old ]\lurrell, in order to work on my fears. 1 fe told me of his meeting with a stock driver, once, and turning and traveling with him until they came to a spring. They got down to get water. The stock driver lay down to drink, and Murrell shot him. fie robbed his pockets and only found seventy-five cents. He afterward said that a man tliat dressed as fine as that man did, and pretended to be a stock driver, and had no more money than that, ought to be killed. He also told me of his having stolen a certain old negro man and sold him ten times, each time the old slave would run away, C(Mne l)ack to Old Murrell who would give him ten dollars. He said that Murrell had a secret cave whore he put the negroes and horses he stole until he would have a boat load, when he would take them down the Mississippi S4 LAST Of THE PIONEERS river, to New Orleans, and sell them. But before we reached Nashville, we learned that Murrell had been captured, con- victed and sent to the penitentiary. This was most welcome news to me, but, somehow, I could not help feeling afraid, lest he should escape from the prison and take me in. But I had the great satisfaction, as well as my curiosity satisfied to see the very man himself in chains. We had to pass right by where the convicts were at work, and seeing an ugly look- ing man with a ball and chain around his leg, working in a blacksmith shop, I asked who it was, and was told that it was the notorious outlaw, John A. Murrell. Then I ven- tured up and took a close look at him, and felt just about as one feels when looking at a lion in a cage. He seemed to be sullen, and did not like being looked at. I wanted to re- member his features so that if he ever escaped, and took up his old trade, and I saw him, I could keep out of his way. It was a considerable distance beyond Nashville to where the children were, but the roads were better, and we made better time. The name of the place was Green Garden. We put up with a man by the name of Lewis Lane. I was sent with the horses to the stable, and was told to feed them. 1 started to give the horses some corn, but the man called out to me to let that corn alone, and to go down into the field and get some dry stalks. We found that feed was scarce in that neighborhood, and very hard to get. It took us about two days to hunt up the girls, and learned that Sandy Jackson had gone to New Orleans. Mr. Jackson wanted to find him very much, and talked of leaving me there, and going to New Orleans to get him. But I was so averse to remaining in that neighborhood, that he was LAST OF THE PIONEERS 85 afraid I would run off and come back to East Tennessee and leave him and the girls. So, he decided that we would come l)ack, and write for him to come. After resting our horses a few days, we started on our homeward journey. It had taken us ten days to make the ^trip out. and as we had a much heavier load back, we sup- posed it would take us longer, but we made the trip back in the same number of days. In going out, we had learned where the houses were on the road, and Mr. Jackson had made arrangements for lodging for the girls, and so we regu- lated our travel back so as to reach the houses at night. Sometimes we would reach them before dark, and sometimes a while after dark. The girls would stay in the houses, and when Mr. Jackson could not get lodging, he would stay in the wagon with me. On the way back we experienced an awful storm. One day it had rained more or less all day, and toward night it began to look like a storm would come. We urged our team on as fast as possible so as to reach the house of a widow woman, where we had secured lodging as we went out. We reached the place just before dark, and barely had time to put up the horses, and fasten down the wagon cover when the storm began coming on. I got into the wagon, and began covering myself up. when the dogs under the wagon began barking. I heard some one coming toward where I was, and spoke to tiie dogs to be quiet. Two women from the house came, and climbed upon the wagon tongue, and asked me to go to the house. I told them I would stay with the wagon. They then asked me to come to the house and get something to eat. I told s6 LAST OP THE PIONEERS them that I had plenty. They begged me to go to the house and get some more quilts to put over me. I told them I had plenty of cover. Seeing that they could not get me to leave the wagon at all, they left and went back to the house. Very soon it began thundering and lightning such as I had never seen before, and have never seen since. It seemed that the thunder would jar down the houses and trees. The light- ning was so steady and constant that you could see an object as well as in daylight. It just seemed that the whole world was on fire. For the first time, the dogs left the wagon, and went to the stable where the horses were. I expected every moment that the lightning would tear the wagon to pieces. I was never, in all my life, so scared. 1 never expected to live through it, and wished that T had gone to the house with the women. I suppose the thunder and lightning lasted about an hour — it seemed to me four — when the rain 1)egan pouring in torrents. It seemed like dashing from a bucket, and I peeped out from under the cover to see what the storm had left, and the earth appeared as a sheet of water. The mountain creeks could be heard roaring for miles in all directions. When the rain was over, I got out of the wagon to look around, and the people came out from, the house to .see what had become of me, and were much surprised to see me safe and sound. W'c next thought of our horses. I took a pine torch and went to the stable, and found them and the dogs all right. X'ext morning we were not in a hurry to start, thinking to allow time for the streams to run down, and supposing that the roads would be repaired from the wash- outs, by ])eople along the road who had to use it. Mr. Jack- son ordered a ham to l)e ])oiled for us to use on the wav back LAST OF THE PIONEERS 87 home. He especially requested that it be cooked well done, as the girls could not eat it if it was not done. When we went to use some of it for dinner we found that it had just been put into boiling water and taken out. and was not cooked at all. Mr. Jackson and the girls were verv angry, but if they had looked closely at Pharaoh, they would have seen a smile bloom out on his face, for he knew that the most of that ham would fall to his share. And sure enough it did, and I had a fine time the balance of the way home broiling and eating ham. After twenty days absence, we arrived l)ack at Blain's Cross Roads. The trip had been the longest and the most interesting one of my whole life. I had enjoyed the greater ])art of it. and had been pretty badly scared on several occasions. It proved too hard a trip on our stock. Our l)ig black horse suffered the most. After we came back, the hair all came oft" his body, and he soon died. It seems to me now hardly possible that any team of horses could ever stand such a trip. People of the present day. who now travel in modern conveyances over the same road we traveled, could never be made to realize h\ any descrij)- tion, the inconveniences of travel by the means and tlie con- ditions of the same sixty years ago. PHARAOHS MASTER— PRACTICAL JOKES. EREE MASOXRV. Master Corbin Jackson was a jully, good-natured tel- low. and when in a good humor, lie delighted to play practi- cal jokes on me. I trcnerallv eni(ned them, as the\ usnallv afforded me considerable fun : but sometimes tlie\ were 88 LAST OF TUB PIONEERS rather tough on me, and I got the worst end of the joke. The one that I am now going to relate did not terminate just as he intended that it should. Mr. Jackson was a Mason, and one day he was telling me what a great thing Free Masonry was for him, and said he did not see why it should not be just as good for me as for him. I told him that it looked that way to me. He said that if I wished to become a Mason he would initiate me free of any charge, although it had cost him a great deal of money. I agreed to allow him to proceed with the ceremony of making me a Mason ; and he said we would go into the next room. He took a key out of his pocket, and I asked him what it was ; and he said it was a ''Chris Key," used in initiating people. I asked him what was he going to do with it, and he said he would have to use it on me. He told me to lie down before the fire, face downward, and to bare my back, as he would have to press it against the skin on my back. Just then 1 heard the key strike the andiron, and the truth flashed across my mind — he was heating the key. I jumped to my feet just as he was about to brand my back with a hot key. He said I would never make a Mason, and I told him not if I had to have my back burned. HIDING THE KNIVES. But the next joke he played on me succeeded be^^ter to his liking and worse to mine. This time he had studied up a sure enough plan to burn me. He sent me to the kitchen for three table knives, and proposed to me that I might go outside and hide them, taking one at a time ; and, in case he LAST OF THE PIONEERS 89 (lid not remain in the house and tell me where I put the last one, that he would give me a plug of tobacco. I, of course, agreed to make the trial, little suspecting that a hard joke was in the game. He handed me one of the knives which I carried out and concealed. I returned to the room, ar.d he handed me another one which I likewise took out and hid. Rut when I came back and he handed me the third one, the ])lade was so hot that it burned my fingers, and I dropped it on the floor at his feet. He called out, ''There, Pharaoh, is the knife." and fairly shook with laughter. Quick as a flash, I gral)bed up the knife by the handle, which was cool, and sprang out and hid it. He claimed that 1 was beaten, and I claimed I was not, for I had them all hidden. I would not tell him where they were until he gave me the tobacco. So, after all. I came out fairly well in the joke, even if I did get mv flnoers burned. I could tell many more, but these will be sufficient to show the jolly, good time we had. POLK A\n JONES DEBATE AT BL AIX'S X ROADS. One of the most memorable times that ever occurred at Blain's X Roads, was the occasion of the great debate be- tween James K. Polk and James C. Jones, candidates for governor, over sixty years ago. It was a time of great ]K)litical excitement, and party spirit was running very high. It was the beginning of the practice of what was called stump-speaking, which after- ward became so ])oi)ular. It was called stump-speaking for the reason that the candidates more often spoke in the ojxmi 90 LAST OF THE PIONEERS air than in a building, and frequently mounted on stumps or empty boxes so as to be seen by their hearers. The two parties, on this occasion, were about equally divided, and about the only way to distinguish between them, was that the Whigs usually wore a coon-skin cap — a coon skin being an emblem of the Whigs — while the Democrats could be gen- erally recognized by their yelling. Such an occasion was also the favorite resort of horse jockeys, shooting matches, and frequently a muster in the forenoon. Hence, there was most sure to be a large, miscellaneous assemblage from a radius of several miles around. Plenty of pure, home-dis- tilled whiskey and brandy, and an abundance of hard cider and ginger cakes was always on hand. It was a genuine old- fashioned, go-as-you-please day, when every man was con- sidered as having equal rights and privileges, which was construed to mean the right to get drunk and whip whom- soever he was able. But fighting then, was not as it is now. A man who would use a rock, stick, club, knife ur gun in a fight, was regarded as a coward, and no one would have anything to do with him. The combatants used their fists, and when a man "got enough." he said so, and the fighting stopped, the whipped man set up the treat, and no thought of renewing the trouble at any other time or place, was ever in- dulged. In fact, the fighters were afterward generally the best of friends. Such conflicts were always expected, and usually occurred on such occasions, hui were never seriousl}- considered. Well, the immense crowd had Ijeen gathering since early morning, and by noon it resembled a small army. There had been, in the forenoon, the usual horse swapping, match LAST Of THE PIONEERS 91 shooting, dog fighting, and fisticuffs, but the crowd was, in the main, in a jolly, good humor, everybody having had a regular picnic. Now it was time to begin looking for the speakers and a change of program. There was no railroad then, and the candidates were to come on the regular stage coach from Knoxville, which was due to arrive about noon. So, all eyes were turned down the road to catch a first glimpse of the incoming coach. They were not doomed to wait very long, for it soon came into view over the hill, and Mr. Samuel Croft, the veteran stage driver, blew a stirring blast upon his bugle, as was his custom. Then, the air resounded with deafening cheers for Polk and Jones, as they were supposed to be in the coach. When the coach came to a standstill and the speakers alighted, there was more hurrahing and a general hand shaking. Most of the people did not know one from the other until the time for speaking, and their names were called. A speaker's stand and a few rude seats had been constructed on a little round knoll in a grove of timber just east of the road; and, as it was time for speaking to begin, the candidates repaired to it. Polk was introduced as the first speaker, and took the stand amid the thunders of applause from his friends. He was a gentleman of fine ai)pearance, tall and handsome, an eagle black eye — deep and penetrating, had a sjjlendid voice, and spoke with telling eft'ect. He discussed, in an able man- ner, the leading political issues, and then paid his respects to his opponent, using many amusing jokes and anecdotes. He referred to Jones as "Lean Jimmy," and characterized liis followers as the "coon-skin constituency." His speech was a masterlv effort, and was all liis friends could wish. 1)2 LAST OF THE PIONEERS When he took his seat, it was the general impression throughout the crowd that the Democrats had carried the day. When Jones arose to speak it was in a somewhat hesi- tating manner, which did not afford promise of a satisfactory effort. He. by no means, possessed the prepossessing ap- pearance of his opponent. He was six feet two inches tall, and weighed only one hundred and twenty-five pounds. His face was by no means beautiful to behold, and to say that the Whigs were considerably taken back ])y the personal appear- ance of their candidate, would be stating the case none too strongly. Then, again, their ardor was very nuich cooled by his awkward, hesitating manner. However, they rallied suf- ficiently to give him a few rousing cheers, to be followed by the hisses of the Democrats. After the usual formal salu- tation, he stood silent, fumbling in his side pocket, appar- ently, as all thought, for his handkerchief ; but, behold ! in- stead, what should he fish out but a piece of coon-skin, about four by six inches, and holding it up in full view of the large crowd, stroked it's fur, and said in a loud, clear voice. "Was there ever finer fur than this?" This was enough. A thunderbolt in a clear sky, would not have produced greater excitement, or scarcely more noise. Instantly, the coon-skin caps were as thick in the sky as stars on a clear night. The shouts and yells from the Whigs was truly deafening. A regular panic ensued, which for a time resembled a young riot, it was fully thirt\ minutes before enough quiet was restored for the speaker to proceed. W'hen finally, he was allowed to go on it was evident that he was perfectly at ease, and had the situaticm fullv at his command. He was, no LAST OP THE PIONEERS ^>:^ (l(ni])t conscious of his inability to cnpc with Polk in serious debate, but he answered briefly, and to the satisfaction of his friends, the arg^uments of Polk. He turned all of that speak- er's jokes against him, making' of them, the most amusing and ridiculous applications. He then added many of the drollest and most laughable anecdotes ever heard, and kept the crowd. Democrats as well as Whigs, in a continuous up- roar of laughter, from start to finish. P)Oth sides naturally claimed to have carried the day. It was certainly a glorious day for Plain's X Roads, and she never had another such a grand occasion. The result of this memorable campaign in Tennessee is well known. Jones was elected by a large majority. Tiiis was in 1841. Again in 1843, he defeated Polk a second time by much the same tactics. But James K. Polk was the idol of Tennessee Democrats, and was nominated, in 1841. for President. Though failing to carry his own stale, which ^-as still dominated by "Lean Jimmy's Coon-Skin Constituency," he was nevertheless elected over Henry Clay, the Whig can- didate. JOHX CHESNEY, PHARAOH'S LAST MASTER. John Chesney, one of the earliest settlers on P>ull Run Creek, was born at Spartanburg, v'^outh Carolina, December 5, 1T94, and emigrated, early in the century, to East Tennes- see. He was scarcelv grown when he came, and was accom- panied by his father and mother. It appears that his father did not possess the energy and ambition necessary to conquer a wilderness and build u\) a new home. So these arduous 1)4 LAST OF THE PIONEERS duties devolved upon the son and mother, who proved them- selves equal to the occasion. The young man acquired a large body of land on Bull Run Creek and Comb ridge. Of the latter, he and William Colvin, bought a section extending about seven miles, for fifty dollars apiece. By the time Mr. Chesney had his home well under way, he had three neigh- bors — James Sailing, above Maynardville ; Mr. Cannon, at the lower end of Clinch mountain, and William Lane, about a mile above Cedar Ford. Soon Mr. Wyrick settled just above him on the same creek, and ere long the settlement was aug- mented by other settlers coming in. Mr. Chesney built a mill on the creek, and also operated a distillery. He was a soldier in the War of 1812, and served with Gen. Jackson. He married Ruthie, daughter of Wm. Lane, one of the earl- iest settlers. He died June 15, 1876, and was buried in the old family grave yard, in sight of where he built his first house. Upon asking Mr. Tilmon Chesney, a son of our sketch, why his father, as well as many of the other old settlers, passed over the comparatively level country, extending south and west of the lower end of Clinch mountain, and making their settlements in the rough, hilly ])ortions, I was told l)y him — and the same was afterward corroborated by other pioneers — that these smoother portions were covered with a dense growth of wild pea vine, and the lower districts, with an almost impenetrable cane brake. This land had but very little timber then, and was known as The Barrens. These cane brakes were exceedingly difiicult to prepare for the culti- vation of a corn crop. The pea vines furnished the most ex- cellent pasture for the cattle and hogs, and seemed designed LAST OF THE PIONEERS 95 by nature to serve this purpose to the early settler while he was devoting his cleared land to the raising of corn. But this wholesale pasturing l)y the immense numbers of cattle, sheep and hogs, at the early season of the year, before the seed pods matured, caused succeeding crops of this wild forage to become lighter and lighter ; and since it propagated entirely by means of seed, it soon became extinct. But in its place bushes sprang up, and in the course of half a century, a splendid growth of forest timber covered the Barrens ; and they, too, are a thing of the past — gone, save in the memor\- of the pioneer. Since the writer has been accorded the inestimable privi- lege of recording the recollections of Mr. Chesney's old ex- slave, Pharaoh, who has lived to become the most remarkable character, perhaps, on the American continent, he does nut deem out of place, an incident or two of the old man's life, rather amusing, but interesting. As has been stated, Mr. Chesney had a distillery in which was made the old-time, pure, unadulterated corn, a]iple, and peach juice, but known then as now, by familiar names. Uncle Pharaoh was not averse to taking a drink of these spirits when occasion presented. Neither was Billy Hart, a diminutive specimen of manhood who lived with Mr. Ches- ney, and who, from the small size of his feet, is now remem- bered by the name of "Dollar Foot." On one occasion, Pharaoh and Billy had been sent with two pails of slop quite a little distance away, to feed the hogs. It seems that each of them had been imbibing too freely, but succeeded in reach- ing the pen, climbing over, and pouring out the slop. While in the pen. they began scuflhng, and Billy becoming angered, m LAST OF THE PIONBBRS began fio^hting- Pharaoh. The latter being very strong, picked up the Httle fellow and pitched him ontside the pen. P)illy whimpered and threatened to tell the darkey's master for throwing him out. \Vhereu])on Pharaoh jumped out. picked him up, and threw him back in. saying as he did so. "Xow, what ye gwine to tell him?" A NARRO^^' ESCAPE. Air. Chesney's mill- was built on Bull Run creek, the dam extending across. When the creek became swollen from heavy rains, such quantities of logs and brush came down as to endanger the safety of the mill, and Pharoah was generally ])ut to watch and keep these drifts pushed away. On one occasion the creek was very full, and as there had been so much clearing along the little bottoms, immense drifts of brush, trees, and logs were rusing down over the dam. Pharaoh, armed with a long spike pole, was standing on the forebay, pushing away such objects as threatened to strike the mill. As a large log came rolling along in the mad rush- ing current, he made a punch at the log, but his aim was not good. Plis pole missed the log and he could not recover the inertia of his body, and went plunging head hrsL inlu the Hear- ing, rushing tide. Over the dam he went, and struck the surging, splashing foam under the immense sheet of water along with the log he had aimed at. He was tlucked and soused and pitched and tossed about until he was more dead than alive, but finally succeeded in getting to the shore. He crawled out and went shivering and dripping to the house. LAST OF THE PIONliliRS 97 walked up to the door, and said, "Alassa, I s'i)ose yon don't know how near yon came losin' (hs nij^^o^er a while aj^o." SLAVES AND SLAVERY. There were good slaves and bad slaves, and there were good masters and bad masters. There is an old saying that, "Bad fences make roguish cattle," and I have often thought that bad slaves often made bad masters. Slaves were often punished, sometimes severely, but as a general rule they de- served all that was given them. Many slaves seemed to think of onlv how thev could shirk the tasks that were given them to do, and to kill all time possible, and where you knew such as these you would often hear of whippings, I was not sur- prised when I heard about it, Imt more so, that I did not hear of it oftener. The darkey who went about his work in a cheerful, good-humored way, and tried to ^\i^ liis work right. and to please his master was sure to have a good time, and seldom got a punishment. lUit the one who was slow, and sullen, and slighted his work would be most sure to have a rough time. Sometimes when a darkey would not work he was put on short rations for a day or two, and this would generally bring him to his senses sooner than a whipping. All the talk you hear al)out masters starving their slaves is l)osh, for a man with any sense would know that a starved negro like a starved horse could not work ; and, as work was what they were kept for, they were, of course, kept in con- dition to work. 1 was a slave for eighty years, and I have seen all kinds of slaves and all kinds of masters ; and in nearly everv case it was as 1 have said. Of course, I have known they were given to understand that when their furloui^li was out, they must be on hand. This was perfectly rijL^ht. l)ut there were many of them that would scarcely ever come in on time, and thus got themselves into trouble. When you come to think about the worry and trouble a dozen or more slaves would cause their owner, it is no wonder that many of them were punished. I do not see how they could ever have been controlled without it, and made to work enough to pay for their keeping. The darkies were annoyed to a most unlimited extent by white persons who practiced tricks on them. They were passionately fond of 'possum and sweet potatoes. Nearly every family of darkies had one or more good hunting dogs, and the masters allowed them to go out hunting, as the ani- mals were plenty, and gave much trouble about the raising of chickens. Of course, the potatoes could be had for the digging. These white men would slip out into the woods, covered with sheets, and scare the darkies almost to death. As soon as they saw the "haunt," they would break through the woods in a run, often losing axe, 'possums, and some- times a sack of potatoes found (?) on the way. This was fun for the white men, but hard on the darkey's nerves. Ik- might get over his scare in a few days by finding out that some white man had played a trick on him, but the loss of that 'possum and that bunch of potatoes would cause an *'aching void" that would last for months. Sometimes when 'possum, and not fun, was the object, the poor fellows would be actually "held up" at the point of a gun, or a drawn club, and marie to hand over their game. In some cases a darkey L.cfC. 100 LAST OP THE PIONEERS would show fij:i:ht, and exercise his muscles in defendinjt^ his game, and, in that case, usually carried it home. Speaking of the punishing of slaves, reminds mc of a funny incident that happened when I was a boy. ^ly master, Air. Jackson, had three other negro women who had children besides my mother. There was quite a crowd of us children when we were altogether. Master had a large cucumber patch, and one day we young ones decided to make a raid on the cucumbers, which we did. While we were bus}- gather- ing cucumbers. Master Jackson came along and called us all out into the road. We were all very badly scared, for we expected to get a good flogging. He placed us all in a row,, facing the fence, with our bare feet in the dust, and then cam.e around with a switch. He walked along and made a mark around each little negro's feet, so that he could see if he moved out of his tracks. I was the largest one, and had been placed head. When he was through marking around our feet, he stepped up to the fence, which was a common rail fence, and with his switch in one hand, he raised up about three of the top rails, and bad me march uj) and put my head into the crack. 1, of course, had to do it, which 1 did as meekl}- as a lamb led up to a butcher's block. When my head was through, he began to let the rails down lightly on my neck, anrl I commenced screaming at the t*^]) of my voice, "Oh, Lord, massa, you is breaking my neck short off.'" I continued to beg and scream, and promise to be as good as an angel, if he would not kill mc. He let down the rails just enough so that I could not jerk my head out, and began switching me where my body was bent and my dress the LAST OF THE PIONEERS 101 tightest. I soon saw that I could stand it all right, and it tickled me most to death to think that I would get to stand out in the road and watch a dozen little negroes go through the same performance. As soon as he had switched me a little he turned me loose and yelled out to me, "Back into your tracks, Pharaoh." I jumped back into my tracks, anx- ious to see the next boy's neck broken like mine was. But I had created such a scene over my affair that the others were so scared that they were having a regular buck-ague, and some of them had even staggered out of their tracks. To make it harder on them, if possible, I was holding my neck and making a hideous face, but most of it in an effort to keep from laughing aloud. At last Master called to the next boy to come up and take his medicine. The boy was so scared that he could not move, and when Master called him again, the poor fellow managed to mutter out, '*0, Lordy massa. would you kill a poor little nigger for a green cucumber?" ^Master was so tickled that he did not call any more up to the fence, but just passed along and gave each of them a lick or two with the switch. But the masters or their overseers were the only persons who were allowed to whip a slave, and no master would per- mit anv one else to strike one, or mistreat Inm, unless the slave was acting very badly. 1 remember at Clarksville, some mechanics were work- ing across the river at Klipper's landing, building some houses : and the overseer o\\ our plantation had told the slaves that if anv of the mechanics called across the river to get over, that whoever of them that was the nearest should 102 LAS7' OF THE PIONEERS take the canoe to him, and bring him across. One day, a me- chanic by the name of Wilkinson called over for a negro boy to bring the canoe to set him across. The boy took the canoe, and the man got into the vessel and stood up while the boy paddled it across. When the canoe struck the bank, the man pitched forward out into the mud and water, which he should have known would have happened to him. It was so funny that the boy laughed, which made Wilkinson so mad that he struck the boy a hard blow or two on the head. The boy's father was working near by, and the boy went and told him all about it. The boy's father called to the mechanic, and told him that he would give him his choice to take a whipping from him, then and there, or he would go and report him to the overseer. The man argued with the old negro awhile, but it was no use, and he had to take his choice at once. So, after studying over it as long as the old negro would allow him to, he at last concluded to take a whipping from the old slave. The boy was sent for a good switch, and the old negro gave him a sound flogging, and that settled it. It was a general weakness among slaves to steal, not that they always needed the things they took, but with some it seemed an impossibility to resist the temptation ; but I know from a long experience that the negroes did not steal everytliing that was missed. There were thieves among the whites, and they generally managed to get out of being ac- cused by charging it to the negroes on general principles. Personally, my greatest temptations were sweet potatoes in 'possum time, and the darkey's most delicious fruit, the water- melon. A watermelon patch was never any safer in Virginia or Tennessee, than an African cane patch from a drove of monkevs. LAST OF THE PIONEERS 103 We had, on our plantation near Clarksville, large water- melon patches, but it was big fun to swim the river over to Klipper's, and then if any of our master's melons were missed, it could not be traced to us. With these advantages, and the melons as an inducement, I, with some other boys, would make regular voyages across the Roanoke and Dan. when the sun was not shining ; and paddle over two large melons apiece. The way we would manage the melons was to break ofif the stems rather long, tie a string to each of them, and swing them around our necks. When once in the water, they would float, and not be any weight much upun our necks in swimming. But I made some dangerous trips and came near being drowned several times. A great deal of chicken stealing was very justly charged to the darkeys, especially when there was to be a big negro frolic. A negro knew just how to take a chicken from a tall roost without noise. On a cold night, he would heat a piece of plank and hold it u\) in front of a chicken, and it was said that they would step oflf the limb right on to the warm plank, and could be carried any distance. The darkey's jolly nature responded perfectly to any kind of excitement that produced pleasure, or was connected with any kind of fun. In the earlier days of slavery, musical instruments were too expensive to be owned by the average negro ; but he managed to remedy this condition by making a gourd fiddle. This he would string u]) with catgut strings, likewise of his own make, and it was astonishing how nuich music they could get out of this funny looking instrument. A banjo was not very hard to make. Almost any common mechanical genius could take an ordinary meal sieve hoop. 104 LAST OF THE PIONEERS fit a neck to it, stretch a raw cathide across it, put on some cat out strings, and a banjo would be made that almost any darkey could beat enough music out of to keep up an uproar all night at a darkey dance. The white man is just as skillful with his lingers in making the notes ; he learns the tune per- fectly, and can sing it through : he can execute perfectly the steps in-all the leading jigs, 1)ut there is something entirely . original and peculiar in the negro's use of his fingers on the banjo; of his voice and action in singing; and his carriage in the dance ; and something that the white man may imitate more or less closely, but he can never duplicate the old-time darkey and his banjo. Speaking of the negro and the banjo reminds me of a circumstance that was told to me when I was a young man, and was said to be true. There was to be a wedding of two darkeys, a big potato and 'possum feast, and, of course, pumpkin ])ie. and such other dainties as delight a darkey's soul, and all of it to be wound up with a big negro frolic. All the darkies from all the surrounding neighborhoods were invited, and had been for a week, the most faithful, indus- trious beings that ever lived in order to merit and earn the privilege of getting off early Saturday evening in order to attend the big aft'air. At that time, the country was thinly settled, and the houses were scattered about in patches of clearing, with large forests of timl)er l)etween them. l>y the time the darkeys got their feeding done, and supper eaten, it was dark, and there were plenty of wild animals that fre- quently disputed a darkey's right to travel a certain path after night, and the darkey would always be ol^liging enough to seek safety in rapid Hight, and allow the bear or wolf or whatever it might happen to be. an undisputed right of way. LAST OF THE PIONBURS lOo It liappened that one darkey, living- in a remote neighl:)or- hood, was selected to be the chief one at the ceremony, and afterward, was to be accorded the honored privilege of mak- ing the music, and calling ofif the figures in the dance that was to last far into the Sabbath day. This darkey had been at great pains stringing up his banjo in the most substantial manner, and made every possible preparation for discharging the duties assigned him. It so happened, however, that he was rather late in getting a start for the scene of the fun and festivity, but undaunted, and without a single misgiving as to his ultimate success in reaching there in time, he started on his way. banjo in hand. The way was through a mile or so r-)f thick forest, with only a narrow, unfrequented road through it, and only one cabin on the way, in a ])atch of cleared ground, which he knew to be unoccupied. I Jut calling u]) all the courage possible, and ])ossessing a realizing sense of his own special importance on the present occasion, he boldly struck out at a rapid pace, along the dark, solitarx wa\ . It was so dark that the only way he could tell a])out the road was by watching for the opening of the timber overhead. He was frequently startled by the hoot of an owl, l)Ut this did not affect him much except to increase his feeling of loneliness. He had proceeded al^out half way through the woods to the deserted cabin when his blood was almost chilled at the sound of the howl of a wolf directly behind him. and not very far away. This was followed by seem- ingly a dozen more in rai)id succession, lie was now (piite sure that he was being closely pursued by a full pack of hun- gry wolves, and he knew that his only chance to save himself was to run with all his might to the empty cabin, anrl hoped. 10(> LAST OF THE PIONEERS if he could to reach it in time to fasten the door and keep out the wolves until some one would find out his condition and rescue him. So, he broke into a mad run for the clearing, but the road was so rough, and the night was so dark, that he found it exceedingly difficult to maintain what he considered a sufficient speed to outstrip his hungry pursuers. Several times he stumbled headlong over a stump, and it is a wonder that he did not break his banjo. Once, he lost his hat, but did not stop to get it. It perhaps saved his life ; for when the w(^lves came to where it was, they stopped long enough to tear it to pieces, and to satisfy themselves that that was all that was left. Then mad and howling with hunger and rage» they s])rang forward on the trail, but the delay had enabled the poor negro to run several yards, and to lessen the distance to the cabin to that extent. At last, as the savage brutes were drawing near to their intended victim, a cleared spot of ground and a lonely cal)in a short distance ahead greeted the eyes of the frightened darkey who was running as he had never run before, and scared as he had never been before. Hut the alarming truth flashed across his mind that the wolves were nearer to him than he was to the cabin, and realizing this fact came near |:)aralyzing him. l)Ut calling to- gether all his strength for another desperate effort, he plunged forward at the \ery top of his speed, just as he reached the edge of the clearing the wolves were not a dozen yards behind. He could now distinctly hear the sound of their a])proaching f(K)tstcps, and the snapj)ing of their sharp teeth. I'or some reason, he decided to change his banjo to his left side, leaving his right arm free, when he accidently drew his trembling fingers across the strings, making a verv loud noise. LAST OP THE PIONEERS 107 This noise seemed to have some magical effect on the brutes, which ceased their howhngs, and apparently almost stopped. But only for a moment ; then with renewed howl- ings they again dashed forward, and would have been up with him ere he reached the cabin, when he again with considerable force, drew his fingers rapidly across the strings of his banjo, which had the eff'ect to again check them long enough for him to spring into the cal)in, and slam the door shut. He then barricaded the door with a heavy puncheon, wliich kept them out until he had time to regain his breath, and decide upon some mode of action, as he felt certain that they would very soon effect an entrance into the cabin. The old roof had fallen in, and the long, bare weight-poles were just above his head. Taking his banjo in one hand, and with a jumj) he caught one of the poles with the other hand, and swung him- self up astride the ridge pole, Ijut not a minute too soon, as several ugly noses were already prying open the door, and by the time he was seated, the combined weight of half a dozen of the ferocious creatures caused the puncheon to give way, and the door swung open. In rushed the whole jjack, eager to make a quick supper on the negro, whom they supposed nuist be just on the inside. Round and round thev went, searching everv nook and corner, when at last one of them spied liim on the pole above. With a mighty spring and a powerful snap of its great jaws, it came near reaching a foot tlial was dangling rather low. ■ Immediately a general assult l)y means of powerful jum])s was made on the darkey's position, eacli jump being accom- panied by a clash of teeth that could be heard fifty yards awav. The.se assauks were all directed at the part r.f the 108 LAST Of THE PIONEERS darkey that hung" the lowest down, and pieces of his already tattered garments were frequently caught and torn off by the savage brutes. He could fancy to himself that they were be- coming more desperate and intent upon reaching him, and he shifted his position so as to put every part of him likely to be reached by them out of the way. In doing so, he again dis- turbed the strings on his banjo, and again the beasts quieted at the sound. Then a happy thought came into his mind. He might save himself by playing tunes on his banjo. He thought he would try just the mere noise at first, and if that succeeded he would put his banjo in tune and give them some of his best performances, as they seemed to l)e doing their best for him. Again, as before, the sound produced by the banjo seemed to bewilder them, and they seemed to be half inclined to flee, but goaded by hunger, they would renew their frantic efforts to reach him. Then, the darkev. more hastily than ever before in his life, put his banjo in tune for an Old Virginia breakdown, and began clawing off the music in a furious way, when the wolves would subside, and most of them slink out to the outside, and scratch at the walls of the old cabin. P)Ut when the negro became tired, or stopped to tune his banjo for something else, they would immedi- ately rush in, and seem determined, more than ever, to reach him. Again he would strike up .some old familiar plantation melody, during the performance of which, the savage brutes would be more ([uiet. So, realizing that his safety depended upon his ability to pour into the ears of these beastly denizens of the forest, a steady stream of music, he applied himself, with all possible industry to the execution of all the reels, jigs, and ho-downs that he ever knew or heard. He kept LAST OP THE PIONEERS l(i*» this up without a minute's intermission until ntarlv dayhj^ht, when the darkeys at the froHc, which was only about a lialt mile away, hearing the continual howling of the wolves at the cabin, and suspecting that they had besieged some one in It, came wnth dogs and guns, run the savage brutes awav, and rescued the frightened, and much exhausted darkey. It is needless to say that his non-a])pearance at the big frolic was a great disappointment, perhaps felt more keenly by himself than by any one else. And if that darkey did not turn white, or his hair straighten out, it was not because he was not scared badly enough. The great advantage of the slave to the family of the owner during the civil war can not be over estimated. Thou- sans of families depended almost entirely during times of peace upon the labor of the slave. \Mien the war came u]), nearly all the slave owners were on the side of the Confed- eracy, against the Federal government, ilnd most of them went into the service, either as officers or as soldiers. This left the slaves as the sole dependence of the family, to take care of the stock and property : to guard and jjrotect the fam- ily, and to cultivate the farms in order to produce a living. Willi the Confederates, it was different from the b'ederals. General Grant said the South had to "rob both the cradle and the grave" for soldiers, 'i'his meant that even the boys and the old men were compelled to go into the army. While at the North only the able-l)odied men of middk- age were re- quired to go into the service. This left at home the young men and the older men to carry on the work and the business. lUit in the South there were none left who could work but the darkeys. The peo|)le at the .Vorth foresaw that if the war no LAST Of THE PIONEERS continued \ow^ that all of the male population would be pressed into the service, and many of them were tickled at the idea that the darkeys would not work without masters to drive them ; that the farms and j^roperty would go to de- struction through neglect ; and that the families of the South- ern men would starve when their living depended upon the darkeys. Ijut how badly they were mistaken, the world now knows. With but few exceptions these slaves went about their work with greater diligence, and were more careful and in- dustrious owing to the greater responsibilities placed upon them in their master's absence. True enough, many of the wives, and sometimes a daughter, w^ould assume the duty of overseer and direct the farming affairs, but after all. the judg- ment of the darkey, in executing the work was the secret of success. He cultivated and gathered unmolested, the crops, when the owner would have run a great risk of his life even to be seen in the community. When the "enemy," as the Fed- erals were called, were known to be coming through the com- munity, the colored man well knew how little sympathy and respect they had for all things belonging to the rebels, that they secreted everything capable of being hidden from the Yankees, and thus saved it for the family. The corn and bacon were carried to caves, or cellars were dug in the side of the hill, the produce put in, and covered over with dirt and leaves until all danger had passed. The horses and cattle were haltered and driven off into some far-off thicket, and al- lowed to remain until the soldiers had passed on. Pens were built off in the woods and the hogs coaxed into them, to re- main until the Yankees were gone. If thieves or prowlers came around, day or night, the LAST Of THE PIONEERS 111 darkey knew how to use a musket, and would not hesitate to do so in order to protect "missus" and the children. During the war, two Yankees came to the home of Air. Octavius Yoe, who lived six miles above Rutledge. It was dark when they came, and chickens seemed to be the sole object of their mission. One of them took a light and climbed up into the hen house, and would hand down the chickens to the other man at the door, who would wring ofif their heads, and pitch them out into the yard. They would flutter out into the darkness, where a daughter of Mr. Yoe and several small negro children were standing. One of these would pick up the chicken, hand it to another, this one would pass it to an- other and so on until one of them would carry it ofif and hide it. This continued until every chicken had been taken from the roost and killed. Then the Yankees started to gather up their chickens and leave, but lo ! and behold ! not a chicken could be found. Every one had disappeared. Then the wrath and rage of the soldiers knew no bounds. They cursed and swore and ripped and tore, and threatened all kinds of vengeance against the children unless the chickens were pro- duced. But old "Aunt Lucy," the colored woman, and mother of some of the children, put on a bold and defiant front, and told them that she would break their heads if they dared to molest the children. After the departure of the soldiers, there was a general cleaning of chickens, which were dressed and packed away for home use. But there was one thing that the darkies could not well hide, and that was the fence rails, if there was one kind of fire which a soldier enjoyed more than another it was one built of fence rails. I remember once nn a cold November 112 LAST Of THE PIONEERS evening, a company of soldiers in passing through our com- munity, stopped and i)itched tlieir camp for the niglit near the home of one of our neighbors. We all knew what this meant to the community, for, upon such occasions, every- thing in the shape of something to eat would most surely l)e in pressing demand. So. there was a general scramble to get out of sight everything possible; but if a soldier did not happen to see just what he wanted, he most always possessed the happy faculty of rightl}- suspecting aljout where it would likely be hidden, and could usually discover its whereal)outs. But on this particular occasion, they seemed to have supplied themselves with necessary provisions, and proceeded at once to make fires. The soldiers, as you know, divide up into a certain num1)er of squads called "messes," and each mess makes a fire for cooking and warming. The master of this farm was a soldier in the Confederate service, which, per- haps, the Yankees knew. The mistress was out watching, and heard the usual command given to "Fall a rail, and take the lap." She saw the command promptly obeyed by at least a half-a-hundred rails being lifted from as many paneLs. She thought she saw unmistakable signs of her fence being all burned up. and sent her old colored man over to the tent of one who appeared to be an officer, to beg him to not allow lier fence to be all burned u]). His tem])er seemed to have already l)een ruffled at something, and he replied somewliat sharply: "\'ou just go back and tell that old stingy mistress of yours that we are just going to take off the top rail." So, it was observed that at each trip they always lifted off' tlie top rail, l)ut by the time camp was broken next morning, a goose could have stejiped (»\er tliat fence. Tlie officer, of LAST OF THE PIONEERS n?> course, ^ave her a voucher for the property used, which, it she had taken care of, would have been paid in full. Uut most people considered these papers as no ^ood, and de- stroyed them. Afterward they wished they had kept them. It was often a most pitiful spectacle to watch the tired, hungry and thirsty soldiers march along. Many of them ap- ])eared to be lame, and many seemed to be sick. The Yankees generally had good shoes and clothes, as well as good tents, 1)ut the Confederates, especially toward the close of the war, l)resented a sad sight. They were very poorly clad, many of them had neither shoes nor blankets, and bore the marks of exposure, hunger and fatigue. All soldiers, of either side, learned that the slaves were friends of a needy soldier, and would render him every aid in their power. Many a poor, hungry soldier has in the dark hours of night crawled from his tent, crept as noiselessly as a cat by the sentinel on his l)eat, and made his way to the cabin of some old darkey, and there was given a supper of bacon, corn bread, and coffee, perhaps in quantity, in excess of a whole week's rations. A company of Confederate soldiers was passing through a neighborhood that had been relieved of almost everything eatable, and their only subsistence was a short allowance of hard tack. They halted at noon at a spring of water for the double purpose of resting, and of washing down the hard tack with the spring water. Al)out the time they were pre- paring to remount and resume their march, one of the soldiers was observed a short distance from the cami) eating green persimmons. The officer, somewhat exasperated at the seem- ing indift'erence of the soldier to the command to remount, called out very sharply, and demanded t<> kn<>\\ \\h\ he was 114 LAST OF THE PIONEERS eating' tlic .qreen persimmons. The soldier prom])tly an- swered. "To draw up my stomach to fit my rations, sir." Speaking of the war reminds me of several funny inci- dents. A soldier, when he was not wounded and in a hos- pital, or exposed in the firing line of a battle or skirmish, or amid the dead and dying on the battlefield, could be quite humorous, and get off many amusing sayings. As you know, in the South, before the war. the large slave owners kept a large, fierce species of bloodhounds to hunt down the runaway negroes who would flee from their cruel masters and take refuge in the swamps. So many hor- rible stories had been told of darkies being run down and torn to pieces by these ferocious dogs, that it is said General Sherman gave orders to his soldiers to kill every one of these dogs that they saw. On one occasion while they were passing a farm house in Georgia, a small poodle dog, the idol and pet of the household, ran out. barking fiercely^ A soldier im- mediately caught up the little dog, and went on carrying the little animal to a convenient place of execution. The lady of the house came out screaming for the soldier to turn loose her l)et. The soldier answered that they had orders to kill every bloodhound they could find. "But that's no bloodhound." exclaimed the lady. "But, madam," replied the soldier, "there is no telling what he may grow up into if we leave him," and the poor dog was carried on to his death. Equally amusing were some of the replies and remarks made to the people who would interpose an objection when a demand was made for any kind of supplies. Once, during Sherman's marcli to the sea, the army was passing near a farm house, and a soldier darted out of ranks, and ran around LAST OF THE PIONEERS 115 to the harn. evidently in quest of chicken. Here he was con- fronted by the lady of the house, who politely asked the sol- dier to leave her chickens alone. He seemed disposed to press his demand for a chicken. He was then told that this special flock of fowls had been spared by all the troops that had passed that way, and that the commanding g-eneral had issued a special order for the protection of these very fowls. The soldier listened attentively to all of these arguments, and then gravely remarked, "Madam, what you say, no doubt, is true, but this rebellion must be put down if it takes every chicken in the Confederacy to do it." And, so saying he ap- propriated one of the finest of them, wrung off its head, stutifed it into his knapsack, and hurried on to overtake the command. Since the darkeys, on the big plantations, were most generally appealed to for victuals by the hungry soldiers who chanced to camp in the vicinity, they were treated by the troops with about as much consideration as were the whites, and they received many favors from them that would have been denied them by the white folks. . On one occasion, a soldier called to an old darkey's cabin lo borrow a skillet to take to his camp a short distance away. The old woman was very particular to have all her cooking vessels as clean as could be. She agreed to lend the skillet to the soldier, and handed the vessel to him. Instead of tak- ing it, and carrying it away, he began turning it over, and in- specting it very closely. The old woman thinking that he suspected it not to be clean, became somewhat angered, and told him that he need not be afraid the vessel was not clean. The soldier replied that the skillet was all right, but that he ik; last of the pi ox burs was just thinkinj^ how nice it would be if he had some meat to fry in it. Whereupon, the old woman cut olY a generous hunk of bacon, and handed it to the soldier, who went on to cam]^ re- joicing. SUPERSTITION. Well, yes, I suppose the negroes, on the whole, have more superstitution about their beliefs than the average white people have. I think I can easily account for this. In the first place, the negro race have not had the same advantages of education as the white people, even if they had as good minds, which some deny, and are therefore ignorant; and where you see an ignorant person, you will see one who can be made to believe almost anything. In the next i)lace. the negroes have been always taught to believe in strange things, and such beliefs are slow to die out, when the white people were making an effort to keep it up. Some would tell them all kinds of terrible things just for fun. while others would use this method of getting them to do things that they would not otherwise do. ]\Iany a poor negro has l^een taken ad- vantage of in this way, and a slave made of his mind as well as of his body. Xo doubt they were often scared into l)eing" religious, with the hope that they would be more honest and faithful. I Jut, I tell you, things have happened that tried the souls of more people than the negroes. The earthquakes of 1811 and 18r or con, was entirely without prejudice, which was sure to outcrop in the controversies and lend coloring and feeling to the discussions. It was noticeable,, however, during tlie heated word encounters, that the strongest defenses in the way of arguments generally proceeded from those persons who owned several slaves, or was directly benefited by their labor. True enough, sometimes, you would hear of some poverty-stricken person who never owned an acre of land, much less a negro, speak of "fighting for our negroes." 'I'he sentiment against the slavery of the African race was kindled to a very high i)itch several years before the breaking out of the civil war. Man> of the most infiuential ])apers. the most elo(|uent preachers, and the very ablest statesmen of the conn- 120 LAST Of THE PIONEERS trv engaged in an unrelenting' war on slavery, and many good people devoted their lives and their fortunes toward the aholition of slavery. Many of them accomplished a great deal in the way of moulding public opinion, while the zeal of many "was not according to knowledge," and they actually injured the cause by attempting too much, or by pursuing the wrong methods to accom])lish their ends. Many a poor mis- guided man like poor old John P)rown whose zeal for a noble cause took on the form of fanaticism, was a victim to an ill- timed movement, that seemingly a sober thought would con- vince him thai it could but result in failure and disaster. The cause of abolition suffered more from such abortive steps than from the combined arguments of the pro- slavery men. One reason why the Xorth wanted slavery abolished was that slave labor had ceased to be profitable in that manufac- turing section. There was a demand for the skilled labor of tile mechanic or the artisan, but not the crude labor of the negro. Perhaps, also, a certain feeling of jealousy at the rapidly increasing prosperity and development of the South, under slave labor, had something to do with the ardor of their arguments. Jt was true that the labor of the slave in the cotton and cane fields of the South was becoming more and more ])r()fitable, and more and more in demand as the invention of machinery caused an increased use of cotton, and as the markets of the world were opened for the sale of sugar. But the eft'orts of those fighting the institution of slav- ery, and those interi)osing barriers in the way of its exten- sion, were not confined to the North, but every possible method was employed to produce discontent in the minds of LAST OF THE PIONEERS 121 the slave. The prosperity and hap])iness of the nei^ro in the free states of the Xorth, with his httle farm and home, with ])lentv of labor and jj^ood pay, with the freedom and hl)erty of his white neighbor — tliis and mucli more — mueh of it with- out (hie regard always to truth — was told to the slave of the South, and no wonder it worked on his feelings even to the point of revolt or attempted escai)e. It was not necessary that the missionary of freedom should visit every plantation and i)resent this picture to each slave, but communicate it to a few in each neighborhood, and it would spread from lip to lip, from plantation to plantation, like wild fire, until the brain of the entire negro ])opulation of the South was in- flamed. Then it became only a ([uestion of courage or of daring as to who would make the effort to escape. To a majority of them it appeared a hopeless task to evade blood- hounds and cruel slave hunters in an eft'ort to reach a North- ern state, and here many decided to resign themselves to their fate and remain. Many who might undertake the venture were hampered with a wife and children which they could never think of leaving; but instances are on record where a man w^ould be successful in reaching a free state and gain his freedom, and long afterward, "when the cruel war was over," be rejoined by his long-abandoned family, and spend the re- mainder of their days together. I'ut there would usually be found a man on nearly every large ])lantation who would incur the risk of jnusuit, capture, and perha])s death, and l)oldlv set out for the "promised land," as the Xorth was called. He usually had no difficulty in finding one or more individuals as (les])erate and daring as himself, and the peril- ous journey would begin. These fugitives had l)een assured 122 LAST OF THE PIONEERS that after they had escaped from their immediate neighbor- hood thev would find white men who would conceal them from their pursuers, supply them with food, and when dan^^er of capture was past, direct them on to other white persons, who would do the same for them, until they would be safely escorted to a land of liberty. Night time, of course, was selected in which to set out on the journey, and most, if not all their travels were by the light of the moon and stars. The line of persons who had thus secretly banded themselves to- gether for the purpose of aiding slaves to escape to free terri- tory was termed the Underground Railroad. They stretched across the country as a chain, from the far South to various points in the borders of free states. If only a slave could the first or second night succeed in finding one of these "agents" he would have a reasonably fair chance of ultimate success, but it was by no means certain that the combined cflforts of the Underground Railroad operators could prevent his being overtaken and captured. Whenever the fugitive reached the home of one operator, if enough darkness remained, he was conveyed in some manner, to the liome of the next one who would conceal him until night again came on, and then convey him to the next station. The roads were not generally used, but the way usually led across hills, ridges, and even moun- tains by unfrequented paths, and as pursuit in every case was to be expected, the greatest caution had to be exercised in order to throw ofif the bloodhounds from the track as often as possible by various methods. These vicious dogs were nearly always used to hunt down the slave, and the fierce bark of the blood-thirsty animal on his trail would be suffi- cient to send a thrill of des])air through his frame. Often, LAST OP THE PIONEERS 123 however, he was provided with a gun and bayonet with which he would frequently succeed in killing or wounding the dogs, and finally escape. Some of the most thrilling incidents of encounters with these ferocious brutes are related by those who have been thus pursued and attacked by them. Often, without any means of defense against them, when cwertaken, the poor man was obliged to climb out of their reach and there patiently sit and wait for his pursuers to come up, who would make him come down and, handcuffed, drive him back again to a more galling bondage. But many resolved on starting to escape or to die in the attempt, and would provide the necessary means of defense or protection, and many in- stances are on record of bloody encounters with such desper- ate fugitives, when overtaken by dogs or men. They would fight to the death, and would struggle with their i)ursuers with the madness of desperation, and often leave men and dogs dead or dying, and renew their mad flight for freedom. And when, at last, they had succeeded, amidst sufi'ering, hun- ger, hardship, and mortal dread of capture, in reaching a place where they were free, it was seldom to find what had been pictured to them, and never fully realizing their hopes and expectations. No doubt many a poor, deluded slave, stinging with the remorse of disappointment, would have gladly exchanged his Northern freedom for the plentiful hog and hominy of the sunny South. He could, in his solitude, be heard to hum the old familiar plantation melody. "I's gwine back to Dixie; No more Tsc gwinc to waiKU'r." The slave-power had enacted very stringent laws relat- ing to runaway slaves. These laws imposed heavy fines and other penalties on all persons aiding in any way. slaves in 124 LAST Of THE PIONEERS escaping from their masters. To give them food or shelter, to conceal them from ])iirsuers, to give them directions for traveling, constituted grave violations of these laws, and the ofifenders were prosecuted to their fullest extent. In very manv instances, such heavy fines were imposed as to sweep away every dollar's worth of the violator's property. Some who assisted slaves to escape to freedom were put into prison on the charge of slave-stealing, and there wore away, in dark, dingy, filthy cells, the best years of their lives, but without a murmur, as they had, at first, deliberately as- siuned the responsibility and consequences of such proceed- ings. lUit the operators of this Underground Railroad seldom asked the name of an escaping slave, and and not often con- sented to listen to their tale of woe, for it was always pre- sumed to be the same in every case. Neither would they ever disclose to a fugitive their own names, and, hence, es- caped detection unless the slaves were foimd hidden on their l)remises, or were apprehended while in the act of conveying him away. In the latter case, immediate arrest, a trial be- fore a pro-slavery court, and a sentence to the full limit of the law was imposed. Some active agents for escaping slaves were the victims of assassination ; still i)eo])le all over the country paid no heed to the summary execution of the fugi- tive slave laws, and voluntaril}- undertook the work, sub- jecting themselves to the vengeance of the slave hunters who usually posed as officers of the law. in the state of (jcorgia, there was a slave and his wife in whose bosoms 1)urned an unconquerable desire to breathe the air of freedom. This desire at last became so strong as LAST OF THE PIONEERS VH .) to assume the form of a resolve to make the attempt. So many who had taken passage on the Underground Railroad, had been dragged back into slavery and cruelly i)unished for their attempted escape, that these two feared to undertake it. The\- thought over and discussed many plans, l)ut each would seem to contain a weak feature that promised to defeat their efforts and cause the enterprise to result in failure. Then, too, so many had attempted, and so many had succeeded, that the slave owners were exercising increased vigilance, and the plans that had once succeeded, would be sure to fail now. So, at last, they decided on a plan of escape. The man was very black, ])ut at the same time very shrewd, and of the most engaging manners and conversation. The wife was very fair, the Saxton blood predominating to such an extent as to almost exclude the black. They decided that she was to assume the roll of a young Southern planter, who for some reason or other, was traveling North with his slave. She was to assume all the haughty demeanor of the white slave owner, and, owing to lier excellent judgment and rare pres- ence of mind under lr\ing circumstances, was al)le to do so admirably. They had calculated the close scrutiny to which thev would be su1)jecte(l, tlie reward that would lie offered for their detection and return and tlie i)ossible and probable con- tingencies that would arise, and .so the wife decided on cer- tain disguises to wear. She was, throughout the journey, to be the victim of a terrible toothache, and to have her jaws wrai)ped and bandaged so as to conceal certain of her features that might occasion suspicion, and subject her to an uncere- 126 LAST OF THE PIONEERS nionious examination which might prove annoying and cer- tainly fatal to the undertaking. She of course, was, on ac- count of her affliction, excused from conversations, and the slave, being fully equal to every occasion, would answer all questions for his young master, and make all explanations. Anticipating occasions where it would be necessary to regis- ter at hotels, the young man had met with the misfortune of a serious accident to his right arm which he carried in a sling. They did not take an underground route, but traveled in the most open manner by whatever conveyance was most conven- ient, be it railway, steamboat, or stage-coach ; and by so doing made the journey much sooner than if they had adopted any other plan. The young planter was very closely questioned on many occasions, and detection seemed imminent more than once, but the ready wit and shrewdness of the slave servant^ and the success of the pretended ailments of the young plan- ter saved them. They passed through all the large cities from Macon to Philadelphia. Arriving safel}' at the latter place, they were free from danger at present, and the young planter's toothache was relieved, and his diseased arm cured^ but his (her) nervous system had undergone such a strain that she was prostrated for quite a while. After a time they went to Boston to live, and were contented, happy, and pros- perous until the fugitive slave laws were passed, and then the slave hunters were after them at once. Their friends would not allow them to be taken back to bondage, but to avoid the annoyance, they were aided in going to Great Britain, where they remained until the Emancipation Proclamation made them men and women instead of jiroperty, when they came LAST OF THE PIONEERS 127 l)ack to America, and settled in Georgia and lived in peace and happiness. PHARAOH'S AGE— BILL OF SALE The writer regrets that the limits assigned to this vol- ume forbid the insertion of many interesting incidents rela- ted by this remarkable old man. and many particulars con- cerning his eventful life. He deems it sufficient, in closing, to state that Pharaoh was purchased by Mr. Jackson, and originally cost $1,000 ; but on account of his age, when sold at the administrator's sale, only brought $421, or less than half his former value. Though represented in the following- Bill of Sale as fifty years of age, he was undoubtedly sixty or more. The writer is informed by several gentlemen, whose ages now range from seventy-five to ninety-three years, that L^ncle Ferry was an old man, too old to do a regu- lar slave's work when purchased by Mr. Chesney in 1811. Allowing him to have been sixty when sold in 181:1 — which is a very reasonable supposition — his present age would be one hundred and twenty-one years ! Following is a verbatim copy of the Bill of Sale, rend- ered to Mr. Chesney, on the purchase of Uncle Ferry (Pha- raoh). The original document is now in the possession of INIr. W. R. Kelley, administrator of the estate of his grand- father, John Chesney, deceased. Mr. Kelley was, for several years, receiver of Ferry for the allowance to the old man from the county. Through his kindness the writer is en- abled to present this copy to his readers. He also acknowl- 128 I.ASr OF THE PIONEERS edges other favors extended by the same gentleman in the preparation of this vohmie. BILL OF SALE. "Know all men by these presents that 1, Corbin Jackson, administrator of the estate of Johnathan Jackson, deceased, for the sum of $421 i)aid l)y John Chesney, the receipt where- of is herel)y acknowledged, did sell to the said John Chesney a certain mulatto man. a slave for life, named Ferry, fifty years of age at the time of sale, which took place a1)out \o- vember 25, 184L 1. the administrator of the said estate of the said Johnathan Jackson, did in Xovember, 1oy. l^'errw" Remark — The name IMiaraoh was shortened, for con- venience in speaking it, to "Farry." which was corrupted to "Ferry," as the old man has always been called. LAST OF THE PIONEERS 129 CONCLUSION. "Mors propter brcvitatcui vitac nnnqiiani longc abest." Last of the pioneers ! And soon, perhaps before these pages meet the eye of the reader, will the oar of the silent boatman touch the shore of time for this last one. Soon will thrill for the last time the time-worn frame, and rekindle the time-dimmed eye for the last time at the recital of incidents, and awakened memories of sights and scenes of long ago. And when these lips have embraced the silence of the grave, then will go down the curtain on the rich stores of tradition and reminiscence which will be forever lost to the world. The lights then extinguished will burn in no other hands, and the task of rescuing the already fading memories of those who will soon be no more, will perhaps be appreciated. The sole representative of pioneer days sits calmly in his cabin awaiting the summons for his departure to a republic where the slave is at last e(|ual with his master ; where the creditor loses his usury, and the debtor is acquitted of his ob- ligation ; where comfort comes to all whom time can not con- sole ; and freedom to all whom time can not release. Brci'is a Deo nobis T'ifa data est: at iiieiiioria bene redditae I'itae senipiterna. 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