Waterways of Westward Expansion - The Ohio River and its Tributaries

by Archer Butler Hulbert

CHAPTER I

OUR FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE OHIO

The Ohio River is a greater and more important stream than is generally realized. It drains a vast and rich territory; its northern source is in latitude 42° 20´, while its mouth, thirteen hundred miles away, is in latitude 37° north. Its eastern tributaries are in longitude 78°, while its outlet is in longitude 89° 20´. It thus comprises 5° 2´ of latitude and 11° 20´ of longitude. The Ohio drains a greater area than the Mississippi above the mouth of the Missouri; nearly one quarter of the waters which flow into the Gulf of Mexico come from it. The lower Mississippi and Missouri, only, drain more territory than the Ohio; but the downfall of rain in the Missouri drainage is not so great in actual water supply as that which falls within the 214,000 square miles drained by the Ohio. Moreover, in the district drained by the two heads of the Ohio, the Allegheny and the Monongahela (20,000 square miles), it has been estimated that the ratio of discharge to downfall is much greater than on any of the tributaries of the Mississippi. In 1868, 1,342,605,725,800 cubic feet of water passed Pittsburg, and in 1869, 1,634,846,499,200 cubic feet. At the same time the annual downfall of rain in the entire Ohio drainage was twenty and one-half trillion cubic feet, while the discharge of the Ohio into the Mississippi at Cairo was five trillion cubic feet. The ratio of discharge to downfall therefore was 0.24.

These estimates, which undoubtedly approximate the truth, are of moment to our study. Nature cast, with a lavish hand, her waters where they would count tremendously in the opening of this continent: for the waters that fell here flowed into the West and the social movement was to be westward. The Ohio, more than any river, was to influence the flood-tides of immigration. The provision of water was, comparatively, abundant; that was the first necessity. A large proportion of the water that fell flowed away; that was the second necessity. It flowed approximately west; that was the third necessity. Thus it is that this river, of all rivers, has a place among the Historic Highways of America which were controlling forces in the early days of our national expansion westward.

There are various theories concerning the name Ohio, the most popular and generally acceptable being that Ohio was the English way of spelling and pronouncing the name Oyo, “beautiful” which the Indians had given to the river. The French, who usually translated Indian names, called the Ohio River La Belle Rivière. Later came the English, and the Iroquois name Oyo was Anglicized to Ohio, the modern name of the river. This makes a very satisfactory explanation of La Belle Rivière, were it not that the Reverend John Heckewelder affirmed that the French name Belle Rivière was not a translation from the Indian, since there was no such Indian word meaning “beautiful.” Mr. Heckewelder felt dissatisfied with the theory that Ohio meant “beautiful,” and while yet associated with the Indians and familiar with their language, made a study of their names for the Ohio River with interesting and enlightening results. In tracing the derivation of the word Ohio he shows that, in the Miamis language, O’hui or Ohi, when prefixed, meant “very,” while Ohiopeek meant “very white” (caused by froth or white caps) and Ohiopeekhanne meant “the white foaming river.” He further states: “The Ohio river being in many places wide and deep and so gentle that for many miles, in some places, no current is perceivable, the least wind blowing up the river covers the surface with what the people of that country call ‘white caps;’ and I have myself witnessed that for days together, this has been the case, caused by southwesterly winds (which by the by are the prevailing winds in that country) so that we, navigating the canoes, durst not venture to proceed, as these white caps would have filled, and sunk our canoe in an instant. Now, in all such cases, when the river could not be navigated with canoes, nor even crossed with this kind of craft—when the whole surface of the water presented white foaming swells, the Indians would, as the case was at the time, say, ‘juh Ohiopiechen, Ohiopeek Ohiopeekhanne;’ and when they supposed the water very deep they would say, ‘kitschi Ohiopeekhanne,’ which means, ‘verily this is a deep white river.’”[1]

The traders who penetrated the Indian country were commonly careless of the pronunciation of names; any word which bore a fragment of similarity to the true name was satisfactory. There is, however, great excuse for this, as it was impossible for white men to acquire the “Indian ear” and pronounce the gutturals of the Indian language. Thus the abridgement of many words was carried to such an extent that nothing significant of the original Indian name remains. The newcomer learned of his predecessor and the “nick-names” were adopted and handed down leaving the true names to pass out of memory and existence. For instance Pittsburg was commonly called “Pitt” by the traders; Youghiogheny, “Yough;” Hockhocking, “Hocken.” Our word Lehigh has no signification but was shortened from the original Indian name Leehauhanne. In this same manner, the traders adopted the first syllables of the word Ohiopeekhanne, thus obtaining an easier name to pronounce and remember.

The Reverend Mr. Heckewelder is probably the best authority on Indian names and customs, so that, presumably, his version of the derivation and meaning of the name Ohio is the most authentic; but, the question remains, why should the French have called it La Belle Rivière? One cannot pass, however, without noting that in the Onondaga language there was a word ojoneri—the j being pronounced like our y. The Reverend David Zeisberger, who compiled a copious dictionary of the Onondaga language, asserted that ojoneri meant “beautiful” but in an adverbial sense, describing the manner in which something is done—synonymous with our word well. If the French translated an Indian name La Belle Rivière, it was the first syllables of this word, ojoneri, that they translated—about as correctly as Washington translated Illinois when he first heard it “Black Island” (Île Noire) or Lieutenant-governor Hamilton of Detroit translated Rivière d’Anguille (Eel River, as the Indians called it) as if it were Rivière d’Anglais.

It is believed that the famous La Salle was the discoverer of the Ohio; three years of his life are unaccounted for at a moment when, as Fate would have it, we would like most to know where the brave explorer went. Suddenly we lose sight of La Salle near Niagara—searching earnestly for a great western river. Where he went we do not know but there is evidence that he came to what the French later knew as La Belle Rivière and descended it to “the Falls,” or Louisville, Kentucky, about 1670.

The earliest actual description of the Allegheny and Ohio Rivers is contained in the narratives of two men who came to the Ohio about the middle of the eighteenth century. Here we find the earliest authentic experience of travelers on this great water highway. This first glimpse of the Allegheny and Ohio is alluring in its suggestiveness; there is so much to be noted, between the lines. No story of the Ohio can be written without presenting the faintly filled-in pictures of Céloron and Bonnécamps: of the rugged hills, the rapid waters, the humorous scattering of the Loups and Renards; the solemn proclamations “in a loud voice” of sovereignty; the flotilla of canoes sweeping around the hill and out of sight. But almost all of this is left to the imagination; lacking this, the story is but a meaningless record of landings and departures, harangues and horrors. To every reader the story must appear differently, but to all it must be a first glimpse of the primeval Ohio.