[CHAPTER XXII.]
Stages and Stage Drivers continued—Character of Drivers Defended—Styles of Driving—Classification of Drivers—Samuel Luman, old mail driver—His thrilling encounter with Robbers—George Fisher dashes into a Whig procession—Daniel Leggett—Accident to Black Hawk—Tobias Banner, Jerry McMullin, George McKenna, Paris Eaches, Jack Bailiss, Henry A. Wise, and other familiar names.
Mr. A. J. Endsley, of Somerset, an intelligent, educated and observing gentleman, who was born and reared on the National Road, gives it as his judgment that old stage drivers, as a class, were better, morally, than old wagoners. He says that while some of the stage drivers were given to blaspheming and drinking, there were wagoners who would “discount them, especially in the matter of profanity.” He names, as types of orderly, well behaved stage drivers, Thomas Grace, William and Alexander Thompson, John Mills, Charley Howell, John High, William Robinson, Isaac Frazee (still living in Markleysburg), Isaac Denny, Samuel Halsted, William White, Samuel Jaco, Thomas Moore, James A. Carroll, William Bishop and John Bunting. William Robinson and Pate Sides were expert penmen.
John E. Reeside, a son of Commodore James Reeside, the old stage proprietor, now residing in Baltimore, who had a general supervision of his father’s lines on the National Road, gives three styles of stage driving, as follows, viz: (1) The Flat Rein (English); (2) the Top and Bottom (Pennsylvania); (3) the Side Rein (Eastern). In the first style Mr. Reeside says that John Bennett and Watty Noble excelled, and in the second, Jack Bailiss, Frank Lawson and Joe Bowers carried off the palm. He adds that the third mode was the one adopted by a majority of the best drivers, and in this, Isaac Page, Luda Adams, Peyton R. Sides, David Gordon, John Lanning, Abram Dedrick and David Johnson excelled all other drivers.
Mr. Endsley, before mentioned, divides the old stage drivers in four classes, as follows: “(1) Awkward, slovenly, careless drivers, such as handled the whip and ‘ribbons’ so clumsily, and kept their teams so unseemly together, up hill, down grades and on the level, that it was painful to see them on the box. Typical of this class were Tom Frantz, Dan Boyer, Pete Null and Abe Halderman. (2) Cruel men—their cruelty amounting almost to brutality. This class seemed to take a fiendish delight in whipping, lashing and gashing horses. Wash Alridge and a big, burly driver by the name of Robinson, were types of the cruel class. (3) Careful, easy-going, common, every day kind of drivers—men who never made pretensions to fancy styles. They were such as John Bunting (Old Judy), Jim Reynolds, James Carroll (Flaxey), Blanchard (Hatchet Face), Billy Armor and Josh. Boyd. (4) Well dressed drivers, clean and neat in person, and men who regarded sitting down to a meal in shirt sleeves as contra, bonos mores. This class manipulated the whip and ‘ribbons’ scientifically, and sat on the box in a way that showed they were masters of the situation. Prominent in this class were John High, Pate Sides, Peter Halderman, ‘Yankee’ Thompson, Sam Jerome, Jim Moore,” &c. In this latter class might be ranked David Gordon, James Burr, and others of the western end of the road.
JOHN BUNTING.
Samuel Luman, still living in Cumberland, and in good health, was one of the best equipped stage drivers on the road. His experience covers many of the most exciting and interesting events in the road’s history. He commenced his career as a stage driver in 1832, the same year that Alfred Bailes began as a wagoner. He tells of a collision with highwaymen in the mountains, which was attended by thrilling details. On the 12th of August, 1834, he was on the road between Piney Grove and Frostburg, with a mail and passenger coach going east. After nightfall, and at a point studded by a thick growth of pine trees, he was confronted by a party of foot-pads, five in number, and strange to relate, one a woman, bent on felony. The outlook was alarming. Luman carried no fire-arms, and there was but one weapon among his passengers, a small, brass pistol, not brought into requisition, as the sequel shows. The assailants had thrown across the road an obstruction like a rude fence, made of logs, stumps and brush. As Luman’s trusty leaders approached the obstruction, one of the highwaymen stepped out from his cover and seized a bridle, and the coach was stopped. The assailant ordered Luman to descend from his seat and surrender his charge. This he very politely, but very decidedly declined to do. “What do you want?” queried Luman, with seeming innocency. “We are traders,” was the response. “Well,” rejoined Luman, coolly, “I have nothing to trade; I am satisfied with my trappings, and not desirous of exchanging them.” During this little parley the wood-be robber, who held a leader by the bridle, cried out to a partner in crime, who was near at hand, though under cover of darkness, to shoot the driver, and denounced him as a coward for not firing. The party thus addressed then leveled a pistol at Luman and pulled the trigger, but the result was nothing more than a “snap,” the night air being damp and the powder failing to explode. These favorable surroundings, no doubt, saved Luman’s life. The foot-pads at the heads of the leaders had, in the confusion and excitement of the moment, turned the horses squarely around, so that the leaders faced west, while the wheel horses stood to the east. In this conjuncture the party in charge of the leaders undertook to unhitch them, and to guard against the movements of Luman, wrapped a driving rein tightly around one of his arms. This was Luman’s opportunity, and summoning all his resources, he poured a volley of stinging lashes upon his antagonist, smiting him on the face and arm, alternately, and most vigorously. The bandit winced, and soon relinquished his grasp, when, almost in the twinkling of an eye, the team under Luman’s skillful hands started up on a full run, leaping the improvised fence, and speeding on, leaving the foot-pads behind to lament their discomfiture. Mr. Luman relates that in crossing the improvised fence, he fairly trembled for the fate of himself and passengers, as the coach was within an ace of capsizing. He also states that the ruffian who seized his leader wore a gown that covered his whole person, tied around the middle of his body with a belt, and that another of his assailants wore a white vest, dark pantaloons, and covered his face with a black mask. The other three kept in the back ground during the attack, so that he is unable to recall their appearance. Mr. Luman further relates that when the first assault was made on him, he apprized his passengers of the impending danger and besought their assistance, but they crouched in their seats and made no effort to aid him or defend themselves. They were western merchants going east to buy goods, and had among them as much as sixty thousand dollars in cash. When the coach arrived safely at the Highland house, Frostburg, George Evans at that time proprietor thereof, the grateful passengers “took up” a collection for the benefit of their courageous and faithful driver and deliverer, but Luman says the sum proffered was so ludicrously small that he declined to receive it, and ever thereafter regarded that lot of passengers as a “mean set.” Samuel Luman drove four teams between Cumberland and the Big Crossings. In 1839 he concluded to give up stage driving and try tavern keeping. His first venture in this line was at Piney Plains, east of Cumberland and near Cessna’s old stand. He approved himself a popular landlord, and was well patronized. From Piney Plains he went to Frostburg, and took charge of the Franklin House. His next and last experience in tavern keeping was at the National House, in Cumberland. Luman interested himself in the detection and punishment of mail robbers, which drew upon him the animosity of suspected persons, and Mr. Stockton, fearing that the suspected ones might waylay and murder him, advised him to take service east of Cumberland, which he did. He is altogether one of the most interesting characters of the road.