Robert L. Barry, the well remembered old merchant of Uniontown, was, in his younger days, a painter in the old stage yard. Other painters in the stage yard were William McQuilken, William McMullin, William Crisfield, —— Mathiot, Ebenezer Matthews, George Starr, Alex. Fowler and Harrison Wiggins. Lewis Mobley was also a painter in the stage yard. He subsequently moved to Luzerne township, Fayette county, Pennsylvania, became a farmer and local politician. He had many good points of character and many warm friends. He died in Luzerne township a number of years ago. The Belfords, father and three sons, were of the stage yard force, workers in wood. They came from New Jersey, and were near relatives of the old and distinguished Presbyterian preacher, Rev. A. G. Fairchild, D.D. The Belfords went west, and in all probability have passed from earth to scenes beyond.
Armstrong Hadden, the old postmaster and banker, of Uniontown worked a number of years in the stage yard on harness and “thorough braces.” He learned his trade with Westley Frost, of Brownsville. Thorough braces were the leather springs, thick and wide, upon which the coach body was placed. Alex. McLean, the old clerk of the county commissioners, also worked on harness and braces.
Charles Brower was a trimmer. He came from Baltimore, and went from the stage yard in Uniontown to the State of Louisiana, since which time he has made no sign so far as known.
Abram Rogers was a worker on “thorough braces.” Other workers in wood were Isaac and Simon Sampsell, Israel Hogue, and Frank Wilkinson. Among the blacksmiths of the old stage yard were James Rush, who subsequently went to Washington, Pennsylvania, where he lived many years, and until his death, which occurred recently, Thomas Haymaker, and his son, Leroy, Thomas Stewart, Michael Claybaugh, Jesse King, Thomas King, James Keenan, Fred Reamer, Abram Haldeman, Seth White, Hugh Rogers, and Jacob, Isaac and Robert Prettyman.
The inevitable company store was connected with the stage yard, but it was not so odious then as now. It was located on Morgantown street, in the building now occupied by the Ellis music store, and managed by John Keffer, who is well remembered by all the old citizens of Uniontown. George Martin was a clerk in the company store. Coaches were all named after the manner of steamboats, and more recently, sleeping cars on the leading railroads. The name of every State of the Union was utilized for this purpose, and the realms of fancy were likewise explored. The coach named for Pennsylvania bore the legend Keystone State; Ohio was honored under the name Buckeye State, New Hampshire, the Granite State, Massachusetts, the Bay State, and so on. Among the fancy names employed, the old pike boy will readily recall the following: Fashion, Palmetto, Central Route, Jewess, Beauty, Pathfinder, Samaratan, Highlander, Ivanhoe, Herald, Industry, National, Republic, Protection, Brilliant, Atlas, Sultana, Clarendon, Chancellor, Moravian, Miantonoma, Loch Lomond. Warriors, statesmen and old stagers were remembered and honored in the names following: Washington, Lafayette, General Wayne, General St. Clair, General Jackson, General Harrison, Rough and Ready, meaning General Taylor, General Worth, General Cass, Colonel Benton, Madison, Monroe, Henry Clay, The President, James K. Polk, Purviance, Daniel Moore, L. W. Stockton, General Moorehead, David Shriver, William H. Stelle, James C. Acheson, Columbus, Pocahontas, Santa Anna. Countries and cities were honored in the names that follow: Yucatan, Green Bay, Oronoco, Tampico, Bangor, Mexico, Buena Vista, New Orleans, Erie, Lexington, Vicksburg, Natchez, Trenton, San Francisco, Mobile, Troy, Wyandott, Idaho, Ashland, Westmoreland, Allegany, Raritan, Youghiogheny, Gautemala, Panama, Hungarian, Montgomery, Paoli, Tuscaloosa. One coach took in a hemisphere, and was called America. Another was named Queen Victoria in the old stage days, as now, the reigning sovereign of England, while another rendered homage to dear old Ireland, by bearing the legend, Erin Go Bragh. When Harrison, the first, Polk and Taylor passed over the road to the capital, to be installed in the presidential office, a splendid new coach was provided for each occasion, called the President, in which the President-elect and his immediate family were conveyed. The presidential parties did not travel in the night time, but rested at stations along the road until morning. At Uniontown, President Harrison and party stopped over night at the Walker house, now called the Central. Polk lodged at the National and Taylor at the Clinton. The Walker and Clinton were not stage houses, but the distinguished passengers were quartered therein, respectively, for the purpose, probably, of conciliating some local political influences.
Henry Clay knew many of the old stage drivers personally, and would call them by name when he met them at different points along the road. He not only made acquaintances and friends of the drivers, but of the tavern keepers and persons in other employments on the road. David Mahaney, now living in Dunbar, kept tavern at various points on the mountain division of the road, and often entertained Mr. Clay, and became well acquainted with him. One Humes, of Claysville, was wont to boast of the familiarity with which he was recognized by Mr. Clay. While the teams were being changed at stations, Mr. Clay was in the habit of getting out of the coach and going in to the taverns. On occasion of one of these short stops, Humes was introduced to Mr. Clay. On the return trip, less than a year afterward, Humes heard of his coming, and hastened to the station to greet him. The coach was driven up and Mr. Clay got out, but before entering the tavern espied Humes approaching, and when near enough to be heard, said: “There comes my friend Humes,” and gave him a cordial hand-shaking. Humes was delighted, and never wearied in telling the story of his acquaintance with Clay.
When Jennie Lind, the world renowned songstress, made her first professional visit to the United States, she returned east from her western tour by way of the National Road, in company with her troupe, and in “chartered” coaches of the Stockton line. This was at least forty years ago, probably a little more than that. P. T. Barnum, the celebrated showman, was the great singer’s manager, and was with her on the occasion referred to. The party remained over night at Boss Rush’s tavern, twelve miles east of Uniontown. The people along the road heard of the coming of the distinguished travelers, and a number assembled at the tavern in the evening to get a glimpse of them. William Shaffer drove the coach in which Barnum was seated, and when he halted in front of the tavern one of the curious called up to the driver on the box and inquired: “Which is Barnum?” Shaffer answered gruffly: “I don’t know Barnum from the devil.” Barnum, meanwhile, had emerged from the coach, and standing by its side overheard the inquiry and the driver’s reply, and stepping up to the inquisitor said to him: “I am Barnum; the driver is right, it is hard to distinguish me from the devil.” The party entered the good old tavern and were entertained and lodged in the handsome style for which Boss Rush was greatly and justly distinguished. Fresh trout were served for breakfast, which had been taken the day before in a near by mountain stream by F. B. Titlow and young Boss Rush, then a lad of sixteen. Titlow, now one of the best known citizens of the vicinity of Uniontown, and still a lover of fishing and hunting, was then an apprentice to the tailoring trade at Farmington, under the guidance of John Hair. Young Boss, grown gray, still lingers about the portals of his father’s old tavern, musing over the memories of the old pike.
William G. Beck, an old stage driver, still living in Fairfield, Iowa, has vivid recollections of the road. In a letter he states that, “if there is anything in the world that makes him, at the age of seventy-four, jump up and crack his heels together and wish he was a boy again, it is reading about the men and things of the National Road.” He is a son of James Beck, of the old bridge building firm, and commenced to drive stage on the Old line when in his minority. He was born in Uniontown in 1819, went to Iowa in 1847, and was on the National Road as a stage driver as late as 1846. In his letter he states that in 1846 the Old line and the Good Intent both carried the mails. There was a “Lock mail” in leather pouches, and a “Canvass mail,” the latter very frequently called “the second mail,” carried in alternate months by the respective lines. In December, 1846, he says the Old line carried the “Lock mail.” The details of an exciting race on the road he furnishes as follows: “A Good Intent coach was driven by Jacob Cronch to the railway station, immediately upon the arrival of the train at Cumberland, loaded up with the ‘Canvass mail,’ and started off under full speed for the West. The ‘Lock mail,’ which fell to me, was taken to the postoffice and overhauled, causing a considerable detention. While waiting in front of the postoffice for the mail bags, Jacob Shuck and other Good Intent drivers chided me with the fact that the ‘Canvass’ had such a start that I could not get near it. I made up my mind that if it was in the hides of my two teams I would catch him, and pass him. It was after nightfall, and in crossing a water way in Cumberland my lamps went out, and what I deemed a calamity turned out in the end to be an advantage. As soon as I crossed the Wills creek bridge, I put my team in a full run and never pulled them up until I reached Rock Hill, seven miles out of Cumberland. At that point, in the winding of the road, I espied the lights on the coach of my rival, while he, by reason of the going out of my lights, was unable to see me, although, on the long stretches, he was constantly watching for a glimpse of me. Much to his surprise I drew up along side of him, and side by side we drove into Frostburg, lashing our tired teams at every jump. The grooms at the Frostburg station had my second team hitched to the coach by the time I was fairly stopped. A friendly driver ran with the way mail to the Frostburg postoffice, while another re-lit my lamps. I did not leave my seat. The reins over the fresh team were thrown up to me, and I was off again in a full run. The way mail bag was thrown into the front boot as I dashed past the postoffice. At Sand Spring (foot of Big Savage) I passed the ‘Canvass’ and held the lead, trotting my team every inch of the road to Piney Grove, the end of my route, which I reached twenty-two minutes in advance of my competitor. Lem Cross kept the tavern where our line stopped at Piney Grove. I made my route of twenty-two miles with two teams in two hours and ten minutes, fourteen miles of the distance, to the top of Big Savage, being ascending grade. James Reynolds relieved me at Piney Grove, and my competitor was relieved at that point by Joshua Boyd.”
