But the passenger traffic of the Cumberland Road bore the same relation to the freight traffic as passenger traffic does to freight on the modern railway—a small item, financially considered. It was for the great wagons and their wagoners to haul over the mountains and distribute throughout the west the products of mill and factory and the rich harvests of the fields. And this great freight traffic created a race of men of its own, strong and daring, as they well had need to be. The fact that teamsters of these “mountain ships” had taverns or “wagon houses” of their own, where they stopped, tended to separate them into a class by themselves. These wagonhouses were far more numerous than the taverns along the road, being found as often as one in every mile or two. Here, in the commodious yards, the weary horses and their swarthy Jehus slept in the open air. In winter weather the men slept on the floors of the wagonhouses. In summer many wagoners carried their own cooking utensils. In the suburbs of the towns along the road they would pull their teams out into the roadside and pitch camp, sending into the village to replenish their stores.
The bed of the old road freighter was long and deep, bending upward at the bottom at either end. The lower broad side was painted blue, with a movable board inserted above, painted red. The top covering was white canvas drawn over broad wooden bows. Many of the wagoners hung bells of a shape much similar to dinner bells on a thin iron arch over the hames of the harness. Often the number of bells indicated the prowess of a teamster’s horses, as the custom prevailed, in certain parts, that when a team became fast, or was unable to make the grade, the wagoner rendering the necessary assistance appropriated all the bells of the luckless team.
The wheels of the freighters were of a size proportionate to the rest of the wagon. The first wagons used on the old roads had narrow rims, but it was not long before the broad rims, or “broad-tread wagons,” came into general use by those who made a business of freighting. The narrow rims were always used by farmers, who, during the busiest season on the road, deserted their farms for the high wages temporarily to be made, and who in consequence were dubbed “sharpshooters” by the regulars. The width of the broad-tread wheels was four inches. As will be noted, tolls for broad wheels were less than for the narrow ones which tended to cut the roadbed more deeply. One ingenious inventor planned to build a wheel with a rim wide enough to pass the tollgates free. The model was a wagon which had the rear axle four inches shorter than the front, making a track eight inches in width. Nine horses were hitched to this wagon, three abreast. The team caused much comment, but was not voted practicable.
The loads carried on the mountain ships were very large. An Ohio man, McBride by name, in the winter of 1848 went over the mountains with seven horses, taking a load of nine hogsheads weighing an average of one thousand pounds each.
The following description is from the St. Clairsville (Ohio) Gazette of 1835:
“It was a familiar saying with Sam Patch that some things can be done easier than others, and this fact was forcibly brought to our mind by seeing a six-horse team pass our office on Wednesday last, laden with eleven hogsheads of tobacco, destined for Wheeling. Some speculation having gone forth as to its weight, the driver was induced to test it on the hay scales in this place, and it amounted to 13,280 lbs. gross weight—net weight 10,375. This team (owned by General C. Hoover of this county) took the load into Wheeling with ease, having a hill to ascend from the river to the level of the town, of eight degrees. The Buckeyes of Belmont may challenge competition in this line.”
Teamsters received good wages, especially when trade was brisk. From Brownsville to Cumberland they often received $1.25 a hundred; $2.25 per hundred has been paid for a load hauled from Wheeling to Cumberland.[64] The stage-drivers received twelve dollars a month with board and lodging. Usually the stage-drivers had one particular route between two towns about twelve miles apart on which they drove year after year, and learned it as well as trainmen know their “runs” today. The life was hard, but the dash and spirit rendered it as fascinating as railway life is now.
Far better time was made by these old conveyances than many realize. Ten miles an hour was an ordinary rate of speed. A stage-driver was dismissed more quickly for making slow time, than for being guilty of intoxication, though either offense was considered worthy of dismissal. The way-bills handed to the drivers with the reins often bore the words: “Make this time or we’ll find some one who will.” Competition in the matter of speed was as intense as it is now in the days of steam. A thousand legends of these rivalries still linger in story and tradition. Defeated competitors were held accountable by their companies and the loads or condition of their horses were seldom accepted as excuses. Couplets were often conjured up containing some brief story of defeat with a cutting sting for the vanquished driver:
“If you take a seat in Stockton’s line
You are sure to be passed by Pete Burdine.”
or,