Charles had no difficulty in securing me employment as junior rodman if, at the age of fourteen, I could perform the duties requed,— which Colonel Curtis doubted. The work was not to commence until the spring, when I was to be given a trial. I worked hard that winter, for hard work, I thought, was the way to fortune. I studied the mode of leveling. I saw a man on the Hocking canal operate his instrument, take the rear sight from the level of the water in the canal, then by a succession of levels backwards and forwards carry his level to the objective point. Then the man was kind enough to show me how, by simple addition and subtraction, the result wanted could be obtained. I was well advanced in arithmetic and in mathematics generally, and was confident, even if I was hardly fourteen years old, that I could do the work of a junior rodman.
About the first of May, 1837, the day of deliverance came. I was to be my own master and make my own living! A fortune gilded with hope was before me. I was to go in the stage thirty-six miles to Zanesville, and thence by stage-route down the Muskingum River, twenty-eight miles to McConnelsville. When the stage arrived at my mother's house it was rather full, but there was still room enough for me. All the family, and my comrades, had gathered to see me off. My baggage, all new, was thrown into the boot, and I took my seat in the stage. My heart sank a little as the stage rolled over the hill and down the valley beyond, but the passengers wanted to know who I was, where I was going, and what I was going to do, and I think they got all the information they wanted, for why should I not tell them of my visions of hope, sometimes called plans! Oh! the golden dreams of childhood, the splendid anticipations of boyhood, the fields of conquest to be won, the fortunes to be made, all to vanish into thin air by the touch of reality.
I arrived at Zanesville long after dark, and very weary. I had never been in so large a town before. The hotel was full of people, but no one noticed me. I was hungry, but could only get the scraps left, as the supper hour was past. I was to leave in the morning at daylight without breakfast. I was shown into a small dark room, on the third floor, and was to be called in the morning. I did not like the place and was alone and in fear. I had more money than ever before. Might I not be robbed? I took the precaution to deposit my jack-knife on a chair within reach, to defend myself in case of attack! My fears were soon lost in sleep. In the morning I was aroused to take by place in the stage, but forgot my knife, my only weapon of defense, and it was lost to me forever. The bright morning revived my spirits. A hearty breakfast at Taylorsville revived all my hopes and plans.
I arrived at McConnelsville about noon and stopped at the only tavern in the place. I called at the headquarters of Colonel Curtis and introduced myself to him. He received me very kindly and introduced me to the office clerks, and to James M. Love, who, I was told, would take me within a week to the engineer corps, then running their levels at Beverly, sixteen miles away. I spent the week pleasantly with him, and was intimately associated with him during my service of two years. He subsequently studied law and practiced his profession at Coshocton. When the Mexican War was progressing he enlisted in one of the Ohio regiments, became a captain, and, I think, a major, and rendered good service. He subsequently migrated to Iowa and was appointed judge of the District Court of the United States for that state. This position he held for many years with distinction and honor. He died July 2, 1891.
When the time came for joining the corps Love proposed that we start in the morning for Beverly, but I insisted that, as it was only sixteen miles to Beverly, we could easily make the trip after dinner. I had never walked so far as sixteen miles in my life, but had walked or run three or four miles in an hour, and, by the rules of arithmetic, we could easily go sixteen miles in five or six hours. He yielded to my wishes, and, as our baggage had been sent by the stage, we started about one o'clock, light of heart and foot. When we had climbed the long hill south of McConnelsville, about a mile and a half, I was a little tired, and I asked how far we had gone; he said, "a mile and a half!" I began then to appreciate my folly in not starting in the morning. He said nothing, but kept at my slower pace, giving me a rest occasionally. It was sun-down when we were six miles from Beverly, and I was completely tired out. Still neither of us proposed to stop, as we could have done at a farmer's house on the roadside. We reached the town of Beverly about ten o'clock, weary and hungry. This tramp taught me a lesson I never forgot,—not to insist upon anything I knew nothing about. We found the corps the next day in camp in one large tent on the east bank of the Muskingum River.
I had another experience, equally unpleasant, during our first evening in camp. The members of our corps, five or six in number, had been invited by Mr. Lindsley to attend a party at his house near by. They accepted, and, as Love and I had no invitations, we were left on guard in the tent containing the instruments and supplies. When we were alone there came up suddenly a storm of wind and rain,—not uncommon along the valley,—which flattened the tent and flooded the ground on which it stood. We were thoroughly soaked and utterly helpless, and, for a time, in real danger. I remember my utter collapse at this new misfortune, but all we could do was to wait and hope for the return of the corps. I must confess that I quietly mingled my tears with the rain, but I did not tell this to the boys when they returned after the storm was over. No great damage was done. The tent was soon raised and secured in place. The next morning I was given a rod and instructed how to use it. I noticed that my associates did not have much confidence in my ability to perform the duties, and, especially the senior rodman, John Burwell. I followed instructions, however, and reported my rod correctly. After a day or two they gave me a book in which I was to enter the levels. In a very short time they were satisfied that I could perform my duties, and I was soon trusted to make up the record of levels, and the necessary additions and subtractions in my book.
This little corps was composed of men, some of whom afterwards became proficient as engineers, lawyers or preachers. Among them were John B. Straughn, Wright Coffinberry, John Scott, John Burwell, and James M. Love. The line of surveys were soon completed to Marietta, the locks and dams were located, estimates of cost were carefully made, the materials to be used were purchased and the excavations and embankments to be made were computed. My associates soon found that I could do the work assigned me, and in this way I won their respect and forbearance.
After the surveys were completed, the members of the corps were located at different places to take charge of the work. Mr. Coffinberry was assigned to Lowell, and I was attached to him as an assistant. John Scott, who had been at West Point, and, I think, was a graduate, was assigned to Beverly, where a dam, lock and a short canal were to be constructed. In the fall of 1837 he was dismissed, I think, for intemperance. I was detailed, not exactly to take his place, for which I was unfitted, but to look after some details, and to keep the headquarters advised of the progress of the work. It was soon found that I was able to measure embankments, excavations, stone and other materials. The result was that I was continued, at my early age, practically in charge of the work I have mentioned. All plans came from headquarters and I was carefully instructed from there what to do and how to do it. This was a great and useful experience for me, and it continued until the summer of 1839.
During most of that time I lived in the family of Mr. Paul Fearing, an old and respected citizen of Beverly, who had long been engaged in what was called the river trade. He transported the produce of the country, chiefly pork, apples, wheat, and corn, from the neighboring region on flats and scows down the Muskingum, Ohio and Mississippi to New Orleans, stopping at the riverside towns, selling his commodities and buying others. The boats were sold at New Orleans for lumber. The captain and crew, generally consisting of two men, would return by steamer with the proceeds of their traffic in sugar, molasses and other productions of the south. This was the early mode of traffic, but it had largely been broken up by steamboats, so that at the time I refer to, Mr. Fearing's occupation was gone; but he had a comfortable little fortune, and, with his wife and only daughter, lived in a neat cottage on the banks of the river at Beverly, where I became practically a member of his family.
The community at Beverly was a very intelligent one, composed mainly of settlers from Massachusetts on the Ohio Company's purchase. The valley of the Muskingum is exceedingly fertile, but it is comparatively narrow and confined by picturesque hills and ridges, broken by water courses. The settlements were mostly in the valley, for the hill lands were rough, covered by poor soil, and were occupied chiefly for grazing. The portion of the valley at Beverly, and south of it, was singularly fertile and pleasing, and very valuable. Its owners and occupants were mostly of New England birth and descent. Their productions had a ready market down the river, and in that age, before railroads, the valley had a great advantage in transportation and supplies over the interior parts of the state. The people were, as a rule, educated in good schools, and they had a college at Marietta and a female college at Zanesville. The proposed improvement of the Muskingum, they believed, would give them another advantage, by securing them water of a depth sufficient for boats in the dry seasons of the year, as well as during the "freshets," which they then had to depend upon, but which at best were not very reliable in their habits, as I found to my cost. This was to be corrected by the "improvement," which, in their delusive hope, was to give them cheap water transportation all the year around.