Casseday’s History of Louisville.

THE

HISTORY OF LOUISVILLE,

FROM ITS

EARLIEST SETTLEMENT

TILL THE YEAR 1852.

BY BEN CASSEDAY

LOUISVILLE, KY.
HULL AND BROTHER.
1852.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852,
By BEN. CASSEDAY,
In the Clerk’s office of the District Court of the United States for the District
of Kentucky.

HULL & BROTHER,
PRINTERS AND BINDERS.
83 & 85 Fourth St., Louisville, Ky.

To My Father,
At whose Instance it was Undertaken.
AND
By whose Assistance it was Completed,
This Book Is
AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.

PREFACE.

Very little need be said by way of Preface to the present volume. Cities, like individuals, have ever found the utility of giving publicity to the advantages they possess. The respective claims to public consideration of almost all the larger American cities have already been set forth, and no inconsiderable sagacity has been displayed in the preparation and issue of these advertisements. It cannot be denied that Louisville has equal claim upon the community for a fair hearing with many of these cities, and this may serve as the apology which custom seems to render necessary for the publication of this volume.

Louisville has attained her present rank and position without having resorted to any of the factitious means so generally employed to promote the progress of cities. A singular apathy in this regard has always pervaded this community, and the present prosperity of the city is the result only of fortuitous circumstances, of individual and unorganized effort, or of local causes. The following extract from one of a series of very able articles, published several years ago in the Louisville Journal, conveys a very caustic and severe, but, at the same time, a very just and merited rebuke of this apathetic indifference to political progress which has been characteristic of this city. The author says: “In the recent book of Judge Hall entitled “The West—its commerce and navigation,” it is stated that “Louisville keeps no account of its business.” Such is really the fact; we have no business organization—no chamber of commerce, no mercantile clubs—no Exchange, no place “where merchants most do congregate.” Our city Fathers keep no record of our increase or doings, and it is doubted whether the Mayor or Council, with the Assessors and Collectors to advise with, can either guess or reckon our present population within 4,000, or the number of respectable tenements erected last year within 200 of the truth. There is not a series of our newspapers or price currents to which a stranger has the right of access; if, indeed, there be an entire series of either to be found in our city. Occasionally a Directory is got up and contains a few statistics gathered without system or concert, and necessarily imperfect, and these even are rarely set before the public eye. Other cities have had for years the most skillful trumpeters and gazetteers; their men of influence and wealth have contributed largely of money and time (more important than money) not only to make their city attractive but to show off those attractions. Does anything agitate the public mind, whether religious, political, or financial—whether it relates to the commerce of the lakes, famine in Ireland, or an armory or hospital on the western rivers, they seek to be the first to write and the first to speak; they raise one committee to gather and another to publish every fact and argument which will make the excitement enure to their benefit. All this is unobjectionable. Other cities have great attractions, and there is no reason why these should not be known; the gospel itself requires publication; but in this democratic country are we to allow any other city to take a higher position than that to which she is entitled by her skill, strength and capacity? Is it not high time to advertise the cheapness and goodness of our wares? If Cincinnati send a special agent to Germany with the cards of her lot-holders and a map of this country, represented as a narrow strip with New York at one terminus and Cincinnati at the other, can we not extend the survey to Louisville, and add the name of this city to the catalogue published in Europe.”

These remarks are hardly less merited now than at the time when they were published. The last two years, it is true, have awakened new energies and brought about a greater disposition to prompt and efficient action in promoting a useful business organization and in setting forth the claims of Louisville in a properly attractive light. Much time, however, has been wasted and much valuable material has been lost by the long delay in this matter. To endeavor to restore this lost time and to replace a part at least of this valuable material, is one of the prominent objects had in view in the preparation of this history.

The want of interest which is generally felt in mere statistical details, even if ever so carefully compiled, coupled with the fact that there is really much in the history of Louisville which is capable of interesting the general reader, have induced me to prefer offering to the public a historical detail of the rise, progress and present position of the city, instead of following the course which has been pursued by most writers of local history. It is no part of the design of this volume to eulogize Louisville beyond its deserts. The greatest care has been taken to prevent any tendency to exaggeration in all the statistical parts of the work, and the object constantly had in view has been to present both to citizens and strangers an authentic and reliable statement of all that is useful or interesting in the past and present history of the city. It is due to myself to state, that, as may readily be supposed from what has been said above, I have found great difficulty in procuring the necessary data for even this unpretending volume. And if the town reader should find any errors or omissions in these pages I cannot help but hope for some leniency at his hands in view of the fact that this is the history of a city which has never possessed an official record of any kind, and that even the material which has been procured at divers times and in distant places has cost no inconsiderable amount both of time and trouble in the search.

The present statistics of the city were carefully collected by personal application and investigation; and I desire to express my profoundest acknowledgments for the kindness and interest with which my wishes were met and forwarded. With but one single exception, every information which I could have desired was freely furnished, and many valuable suggestions were offered which I have since found extremely useful. I also desire to express my acknowledgments to Mr. R. Harlan, of Frankfort, for his kind assistance in the tedious and laborious work of examining the census reports.

In closing a task which has occupied such moments of leisure as I could reclaim from the more serious pursuits of life for about eighteen months, I cannot but hope that the result of this tedious labor may really compass the end for which it was intended. I can claim nothing for the book on the score of literary merit; the style is one entirely different from anything which I have heretofore attempted, and the volume does not seek to claim rank as a literary production. If, however, it will serve to contribute a moiety to the prosperity of my native city; if it will serve to add one industrious and enterprising man to the number of her citizens, I shall be satisfied that this labor has not been in vain, nor this exertion spent for naught.

BEN. CASSEDAY.

CONTENTS.

HISTORY OF LOUISVILLE.

CHAPTER I.

The utility and profit of the local history of cities is no longer a matter of doubt. Whether considered solely as objects of interest or amusement, or as having the still wider utility of making known abroad the individuality of the places they describe, these records are worthy of high consideration. And although in a country like ours this department of history can claim to chronicle no great events, nor to relate any of those local traditions that make many of the cities of the Old World so famous in story and song, yet they can fulfil the equal use of directing the attention of those abroad to the rise, progress and present standing of places which may fairly claim, in the future, what has made others great in the past. And in an age when every energy of the whole brotherhood of man is directed to the future, and when mere utilitarianism has taken the place of romance, or of deeds of high renown, it is a matter of more than ordinary interest and value to all, to note the practical advancement, and so to calculate upon the basis of the past, the probable results of the future of those cities in the New World, which seem to present advantages, either social or pecuniary, to that large class of foreigners and others, who are constantly seeking for homes or means of occupation among us. Nor is it to these alone, that such local history is of value. The country is beginning already to possess much unemployed capital seeking for investment; while many, having already procured the means of living well, are seeking for homes more congenial to their tastes than the places where they have lived but for pecuniary profit. To both of these, the history of individual cities is an invaluable aid in helping the one to discover a means of advantageously employing his surplus money, and in aiding the other to find a home possessing those social advantages which will render him comfortable and happy.

But it is to the emigrant foreigner that local history is of the greatest benefit. Leaving a country with whose resources, social, moral, and political, he is intimately acquainted for one of which he knows almost nothing, such works, carefully and authentically written, are to him what the guide-books of the Old World are to the wonder-seeking traveler; they present him at once with a daguerreotype view of the land of his adoption and point out to him every advantage and disadvantage, every chance of profit or of pleasure, every means of gain, every hope of gratification that is anywhere to be afforded.

Impressed with these opinions, it is proposed to present the reader with an authentic and impartial history of Louisville; one which may be implicitly relied on in its calculations and statistical details and which shall present as accurate and faithful a historical survey as can be obtained from any data known to the writer or attainable by him.

Louisville lies on the Southern bank of the Ohio river at the falls or rapids of that stream, in longitude 85° 30′ west of Greenwich, and latitude 38° 3′ north. Its position is one of peculiar excellence, situated at a point where the navigation of the stream is naturally obstructed by the rapids, and where, for six miles above the site of the city, the river stretches out into a broad, smooth sheet of water a mile in width, almost without a current, and presents a safe and beautiful harbor for a great distance along the Kentucky shore; embracing too within its limits the debouchure of Beargrass Creek, which also affords a convenient and accessible resting place for barges, keel, and flatboats, sheltering them from all the dangers to which an open harbor would render them liable, it presents advantages which at once mark it to the sagacious eye as a proper location for a town of the greatest importance. Aside from all these advantages, the immense surface of level country which spreads out on either side of the rapids for so great a distance, is of itself worthy of consideration. The term “falls” which has been and is so commonly applied to the obstruction in the river at this point, is apt to produce an incorrect idea in the mind of one who does not know exactly how to apply the term. The falls are not a precipitous descent of water, but simply “an obstruction in the course of the river caused by a ledge of limestone rock running obliquely across its bed, with channels or chutes through the mound, produced or modified by the force of the water.” This however is so serious an obstacle to the navigation of the stream as to create the necessity, which always exists, except at the highest stage of the water, for the debarkation and re-shipment of goods above and below this point, thus affording great commercial advantages to the city situated beside these rapids.

The peculiar attractions of such a location as this could not long go unheeded, and accordingly as early as 1770 parties came from Fort Pitt, now Pittsburgh, probably sent by Lord Dunmore, then Governor of Virginia, and surveyed the lands adjacent to the falls, with a view of distributing them as bounty lands. The earliest account, however, which we have of anything like a settlement here is that of Capt. Thomas Bullitt, who in 1773, deputed by a special commission from William and Mary College in Virginia, came to survey lands and effect settlements in the then territory of Kentucky. His practiced eye perceived the advantages of this port and he moored his traveling barge in the safe and beautiful harbor of Beargrass, and here established a camp to protect his men from the weather and to shelter his stores. From this point he made surveys of much of the adjacent country as far down as Salt river, to which he gave its present title from his having there found the salt lick still known by his name. He estimated the advantages of his new settlement at their full worth, and purposed to return at once to his friends and procure the means of re-visiting and establishing it. But Death sought him in the midst of his well laid plans, and it was left for another to complete what his sagacity and enterprise had commenced.

To show that Bullitt’s plans had been well matured, and also to give some idea of the prudence and intelligence of the man, it is only necessary to cite, from Marshall’s History of Kentucky, the following not uninteresting facts:

“On his way to Kentucky,” says this historian, “Bullitt made a visit to Chillicothe, a Shawnee town, to hold a friendly talk with those Indians on the subject of his intended settlement; and for the particular purpose of obtaining their assent to the measure. He knew they claimed the right of hunting in the country—a right to them of the utmost importance, and which they had not relinquished. He also knew they were brave, and indefatigable; and that if they were so disposed, could greatly annoy the inhabitants of the intended settlement. It was, therefore, a primary object in his estimation to obtain their consent to his projected residence, and cultivation of the lands. To accomplish this, he left his party on the Ohio and traveled out to the town unattended, and without announcing his approach by a runner. He was not discovered until he got into the midst of Chillicothe, when he waved his white flag as a token of peace. The Indians saw with astonishment a stranger among them in the character of ambassador, for such he assumed by the flag, and without any intimation of his intended visit. Some of them collected about him, and asked him, What news? Was he from the Long Knife? and why, if he was an ambassador, he had not sent a runner?”

Bullitt, not in the least intimidated, replied that he had no bad news—he was from the Long Knife—and as the red men and white men were at peace, he had come among his brothers to have a friendly talk with them about living on the other side of the Ohio; that he had no runner swifter than himself, and that he was in haste and could not wait the return of a runner. ‘Would you,’ said he, ‘if you were very hungry and had killed a deer, send your squaw to town to tell the news, and wait her return before you eat?’ This put the bystanders in high good humor, and gave them a favorable opinion of their interlocutor. And upon his desiring that the warriors should be called together, they were forthwith convened, and he promptly addressed them in the following speech, extracted from his journal:

“Brothers:

“I am sent by my people, whom I left on the Ohio, to settle the country on the other side of that river, as low down as the falls. We come from Virginia. The king of my people has bought from the nations of red men both north and south all the land; and I am instructed to inform you and all the warriors of this great country, that the Virginians and the English are in friendship with you. This friendship is dear to them, and they intend to keep it sacred. The same friendship they expect from you, and from all the nations to the lakes. We know that the Shawnees and the Delawares are to be our nearest neighbors, and we wish them to be our best friends as we will be theirs.

“Brothers, you did not get any of the money or blankets given for the land which I and my people are going to settle. This was hard for you. But it is agreed by the great men who own the land, that they will make a present both to the Delawares and the Shawnees the next year and the year following that shall be as good.

“Brothers, I am appointed to settle the country, to live in it, to raise corn, and to make proper rules and regulations among my people. There will be some principal men from my country very soon, and then much more will be said to you. The Governor desires to see you, and will come out this year or the next. When I come again I will have a belt of wampum. This time I came in haste and had not one ready.

“My people only want the country to settle and cultivate. They will have no objection to your hunting and trapping there. I hope you will live by us as brothers and friends.

“You now know my heart, and as it is single towards you, I expect you will give me a kind talk; for I shall write to my Governor what you say to me and he will believe all I write.”

This speech was received with attention, and Bullitt was told that the next day he should be answered.

The Indians are in the habit of proceeding with great deliberation in matters of importance, and all are such to them which concern their hunting.

On the morrow, agreeably to promise, they were assembled at the same place, and Bullitt being present they returned an answer to his speech as follows:

“Oldest Brother—The Long Knife:

“We heard you would be glad to see your brothers, the Shawnees and Delawares, and talk with them. But we are surprised that you sent no runner before you, and that you came quite near us through the trees and grass a hard journey without letting us know until you appeared among us.

“Brother, we have considered your talk carefully, and we are glad to find nothing bad in it, nor any ill meaning. On the contrary you speak what seems kind and friendly, and it pleased us well. You mentioned to us your intention of settling the country on the other side of the Ohio with your people. And we are particularly pleased that they are not to disturb us in our hunting. For we must hunt to kill meat for our women and children, and to have something to buy our powder and lead with, and to get us blankets and clothing.

“All our young brothers are pleased with what you said. We desire that you will be strong in fulfilling your promises towards us, as we are determined to be very straight in advising our young men to be kind and peaceable to you.

“This spring we saw something wrong on the part of our young men. They took some horses from the white people. But we have advised them not to do so again, and have cleared their hearts of all bad intentions. We expect they will observe our advice as they like what you said.”

“This speech, delivered by Girty, was interpreted by Richard Butler, who, during the stay of Captain Bullitt, had made him his guest and otherwise treated him in the most friendly manner. But having executed his mission very much to his own satisfaction, Bullitt took his leave and rejoined his party, who were much rejoiced to see him return.

“He made report of his progress and success, and his comrades with light hearts and high expectations launched their keels on the stream which conveyed them to the shore of Kentucky and the landing before spoken of.”

Capt. Bullitt had high testimonials of his eminent fitness for the position he had assumed. General Washington himself, than whom no one was at once a better judge and a more valuable authority in such matters, spoke in the highest terms of his capacity in the exercise of the multifarious duties of surveyor, navigator and trader. Had not a premature death taken him away in the midst of his labors, it is certainly to him that we should have owed the earliest prosperity of the city.

Even previous to the arrival of Capt. Bullitt, however, these lands at the falls had been patented and were owned, most probably as bounty lands, by John Campbell and Dr. John Conally. Of Campbell we know little, if anything; but Conally played a somewhat important part in the early history of the West. He was the nephew of Colonel Croghan and the friend of Lord Dunmore, and was by him dispatched in 1774 to assert the claims of Virginia upon Fort Pitt, where he was arrested, before he had taken more than the initiatory step in his proceeding, by Arthur St. Clair, the representative of the proprietors of Pennsylvania in the West, and only released on his own recognizance. He did not, however, choose to return into the custody of the law, but, collecting a band of followers, he came again in March of the same year and took possession, in Lord Dunmore’s name, of Fort Pitt; rebuilt it and called it Fort Dunmore. It was he who occasioned the bloody fights known in the history of border warfare as Logan’s or Cresap’s war. He afterwards, in 1775, formed a plot against the government, which was discovered, and this notoriously tyrannical and wicked man was thrown into prison and remained an unpitied captive till 1781. After the revolution he became a Tory and thus his lands, at the falls and elsewhere, became forfeit to the State of Virginia. It was, however, for him and Campbell that Bullitt surveyed the lands adjacent to the falls. The extent of their tract was about 4000 acres.

After Bullitt’s expedition had received this final check, the falls were visited only by a few hunters and traders; and it was not until 1778 that any new attempt was made toward a permanent settlement on this site. The enterprising and gallant Col. George Rogers Clark, whose name is so well known to all readers of the early history of Kentucky or of the West, comes now to be associated with this history. This city is so deeply indebted to him, not only for its earlier prosperity, but for its very existence, that it becomes alike agreeable and useful to inquire something as to the circumstances of his settlement here. He was born in Albemarle county, Virginia, and, like our great Washington, was in early life a land surveyor, and, like him too, a man of unusual talent, discrimination and forethought. He came first to Kentucky in 1772. But his history becomes first associated with that of the State in 1774 when he served in Dunmore’s war. In the latter part of 1775, having gained the rank of Major, he returned to his native State in order to prepare for his permanent removal to Kentucky, which took place in the Spring following. Up to this time Kentucky had been held to be a part of Fincastle county, in Virginia; but its inhabitants had no rights or protection as citizens of that State. Upon Clark’s removal to Kentucky he readily saw the advantages of the new settlement, but his sagacity at the same time taught him that a State whose very title was in dispute, and which was so far beyond the old lines of civilization, and so removed from the protection of the elder commonwealths would not attract settlers with that rapidity to which its immensely superior natural advantages entitled it. He perceived that the future prosperity of his adopted home depended upon its being under the aid and protection of Virginia, or upon its being made a separate State. The result of this deliberation and of his promulgation of these views was that he was chosen a member of the Virginia assembly and carried to them a petition for admission into their commonwealth. He had the misfortune, however, after having walked the whole distance, to find this body adjourned. This did not, however, deter him from prosecuting his plan for the good of Kentucky. He visited the Governor, Patrick Henry, and laid his case before that wise and patriotic man. The Governor acknowledged the justness of his claim, and gave him a letter to the Executive Council. This body, fearful of exceeding its powers, could or would do little for him. He demanded powder which they promptly offered to lend him on his individual security; an offer which Clark peremptorily refused, and so intimidated them by his dauntless manner and his threats of consequences that finally the order was issued for the powder to be supplied to Clark at Fort Pitt. And, on the re-assembling of the delegates, after much warm discussion, Kentucky was erected into a county of Virginia. Both these objects accomplished, Clark returned to Pittsburg, procured the powder and with great difficulty and danger succeeded in bringing it down to the present site of Maysville, where he carefully concealed it and then went to the fort at Harrodsburg and sent a convoy for the buried treasure, where it finally arrived in safety. This slight outline sketch shows the first of a series of events which led Col. Clark to the falls of Ohio. The second event which bears upon this point is alike creditable to him. And here we must be indebted to Mr. Perkins’ Annals of the West for a condensed narration of this affair.

“Clark understood,” says this excellent compilation, “the whole game of the British. He saw that it was through their possession of Detroit, Vincennes, Kaskaskia and the other western posts—which gave them easy and constant access to the Indian tribes of the north-east—that the British hoped to effect such a union of the wild men as would annihilate the frontier fortresses. He knew that the Delawares were divided in feeling, and the Shawnees but imperfectly united in favor of England, ever since the murder of Comstalk. He was convinced that could the British in the north-west be defeated and expelled, the natives might be easily awed or bribed into neutrality; and by spies sent for the purpose, and who were absent from April 20th to June 22d, he had satisfied himself that an enterprise against the Illinois settlements might easily succeed. Having made up his mind, on the 1st of October he left Harrodsburg for the East, and reached the capital of Virginia November the 5th. Opening his mind to no one he watched with care the state of feeling among those in power, waiting the proper moment to present his scheme. Fortunately, while he was upon his road, on the 17th of October, Burgoyne had surrendered, and hope was again predominant in the American councils. When, therefore, the western soldier, upon the 10th of December, broke the subject of his proposed expedition against the forts on the far distant Mississippi to Patrick Henry, who was still governor, he met with a favorable hearing, and though doubts and fears arose by degrees, yet so well digested were his plans, that he was able to meet each objection and remove every seeming impossibility.”

Having thus satisfied the Virginia leaders of the feasibility of his plan, he received on the 22d of January two sets of instructions—the one open, authorizing him to enlist seven companies to go to Kentucky, subject to his orders, and to serve for three months from their arrival in the West; the other set secret, and drawn as follows:

“Virginia: Sct. In Council, Williamsburg, Jan. 22d, 1778.

“Lieutenant Colonel George Rogers Clark:

“You are to proceed, with all convenient speed, to raise seven companies of soldiers, to consist of fifty men each, officered in the usual manner, and armed most properly for the enterprise; and with this force attack the British post at Kaskaskia.

“It is conjectured that there are many pieces of cannon and military stores to a considerable amount at that place, the taking and preservation of which would be a valuable acquisition to the State. If you are so fortunate therefore, as to succeed in your expedition, you will take every possible measure to secure the artillery and stores and whatever may advantage the State.

“For the transportation of the troops, provisions, &c., down the Ohio, you are to apply to the commanding officer at Fort Pitt for boats; and during the whole transaction you are to take especial care to keep the true destination of your force secret; its success depends upon this. (Orders are therefore given to Capt. Smith to secure the two men from Kaskaskia.) Similar conduct will be proper in similar cases.

“It is earnestly desired that you show humanity to such British subjects and other persons as fall in your hands. If the white inhabitants at that post and the neighborhood, will give undoubted evidence of their attachment to this State, (for it is certain they live within its limits,) by taking the test prescribed by law, and by every other way and means in their power, let them be treated as fellow citizens, and their persons and property duly secured. Assistance and protection against all enemies whatever, shall be afforded them; and the Commonwealth of Virginia is pledged to accomplish it. But if these people will not accede to these reasonable demands, they must feel the miseries of war, under the direction of that humanity that has hitherto distinguished Americans, and which it is expected you will ever consider as the rule of your conduct, and from which you are in no instance to depart.

“The corps you are to command are to receive the pay and allowance of militia, and to act under the laws and regulations of this State, now in force, as militia. The inhabitants of this post will be informed by you, that in case they accede to the offers of becoming citizens of this Commonwealth, a proper garrison will be maintained among them, and every attention bestowed to render their commerce beneficial; the fairest prospects being opened to the dominions of both France and Spain.

“It is in contemplation to establish a post near the mouth of the Ohio. Cannon will be wanted to fortify it. Part of those at Kaskaskia will be easily brought thither, or otherwise secured, as circumstances will make necessary.

“You are to apply to General Hand, at Pittsburgh, for powder and lead necessary for this expedition. If he cannot supply it, the person who has that which Capt. Lynn brought from New Orleans can. Lead was sent to Hampshire by my orders, and that may be delivered you. Wishing you success, I am, Sir, your humble servant.

P. HENRY.

“With these instructions and twelve hundred pounds in the depreciated currency of the time, Colonel Clark, (for such was now his title,) on the 4th of February started for Pittsburgh. It had been thought best to raise the troops needed beyond the mountains, as the colonies were in want of all the soldiers they could muster east of the Alleghanies, to defend themselves against the British forces. Clark therefore proposed to enlist men about Pittsburg, while Maj. W. B. Smith, for the same purpose went to the Holston, and other officers to other points. None, however, succeeded as they hoped to; at Pittsburg Clark found great opposition to the intention of carrying men away to defend the outposts in Kentucky, while their own citadel and the whole region about it was threatened by the savage allies of England; and Smith, though he nominally succeeded in raising four companies, was unable essentially to aid his superior officer after all. With three companies and several private adventurers, Clark at length commenced his descent of the Ohio, which he navigated as far as the Falls, where he took possession of and fortified Corn Island, opposite the spot now occupied by Louisville.”

It is only necessary to state here that Clark’s success in this expedition was complete and perfect, and that a more brilliant campaign has probably never been performed by any general. More than this does not immediately concern this history.

It is estimated that Col. Clark left in his new fort on this island about thirteen families, when he proceeded on his journey to Kaskaskia. And so brave, hardy and resolute were these pioneers, that, notwithstanding they were separated from the nearest of their countrymen by four hundred miles of hostile country, filled with savages whose dearest hunting grounds they were about to occupy; notwithstanding they knew that these relentless savages were not only inimical on account of the invasion of their choicest territory, but were aided by all the arts, the presents and the favors of the British in seeking to destroy their settlements; notwithstanding all these terrifying circumstances, those dauntless pioneers went quietly to work, and with the rifle in one hand and the implements of agriculture in the other, deliberately set about planting, and actually succeeded in raising a crop of corn on their little island. It is thus that Corn Island derived its name. And truly so bold and heroic an act as this of that feeble band deserves a perpetuity beyond what the mere name of the island will give it. Columns have been reared and statues erected, festivals have been instituted and commemorations held of deeds far less worthy of renown than was this little settlement’s crop of corn. But like many other deeds of true heroism, it is forgotten, for there was wanted the pen and the lyre to make it live forever. The founders of the parent colony themselves did never greater deeds of heroism than did these pioneers of Louisville. And yet the very historians of the fact speak of it without a word of wonder or of admiration. Even in Louisville herself, now in her palmiest days, the Pilgrim’s Landing is commemorated each returning year, while the equal daring, danger and victory of the Western Pioneer has sunk into oblivion. But it is ever so. Men may live for a hundred years within the very roar of Niagara, and yet live uninspired until the same sound falls upon the ear or the same sight greets the eye on the far-off shores of the Evelino or the Arno. Erin’s Bard has ever told the praises of the Oriental Clime; the Lord of English verse has tuned his lyre under a foreign sky; the Mantuan Bard has sung “arma virumque Trojæ” and the Poet of Italy has soared even beyond the bounds of space in search of novelty; so must we wait for a stranger hand to weave the magic charm around the pioneers of our forest land. Let this frail record, at least, lend its little quota toward the honorable preservation of the names of Captain James Patton, who piloted the first boat over the falls, Richard Chenoweth, John Tuel, Wm. Faith, and John McManus, the only names that history or tradition has given us of those earliest settlers of our native city.

The chief subsistance of this little band had of course to be derived from the products of the chase, for the Indians would never have allowed them to attain a sufficiency of food by the slow and laborious processes of agriculture. Indeed one of the historians of this period roundly states that Kentucky could never have been settled had the products of the soil been the only resource of its pioneer inhabitants. Fortunately the woods of Kentucky so abounded in game, that it was easy for its early settlers to supply themselves with abundance of food from these sources. But the difficulty of carrying their game at all seasons of the year and all stages of the water to their insulated home, and the various annoyances of their constrained position on the island, united with the encouragement they derived from the wonderful success of their old commander in Illinois, soon determined the little colony to remove to the main bank of the river. And accordingly in the fall of 1778, or more probably in the spring of 1779, having built a fort on the eastern side of the large ravine which formerly entered the river at the present termination of Twelfth Street, they emigrated thither and thus laid the first permanent foundation of the present city of Louisville.

It was about this time that we have the first record of a social party in our city now so celebrated for its elegant entertainments and luxurious repasts. The bill of fare on that memorable occasion had at least the great and unusual merit of novelty to recommend it. We give the account of the event in the words of its own historian: “It is related,” says he, “that when the first patch of wheat was raised about this place, after being ground in a rude and laborious hand-mill, it was sifted through a gauze neckerchief, belonging to the mother of the gallant man who gave us the information, as the best bolting cloth to be had. It was then shortened, as the housewife phrases it, with Raccoon fat, and the whole station invited to partake of a sumptuous feast upon a flour cake!” How little of a prophet would he have been accounted who had then predicted that, in less than sixty years, the inhabitants of the very spot where they then stood should have at their command all the fruits and viands of every quarter of the globe!

It may not be inappropriate at this period of our history, and while upon this subject of parties and feasts, to extract, partly from Mr. Marshall, and partly from Doddridge and others, some account of the habits of life among our progenitors here. To many, especially to those who have long been intimate with Western Frontier Life, a few of the succeeding pages may present nothing that is either novel or interesting; but to those to whom the country and its social institutions are alike new, we are sure that nothing more could be offered likely to excite their interest or to promote their amusement than this vivid and life-like description of the manners and customs of the inhabitants of Louisville seventy years ago. We copy the account in full:—

“Then the women did the offices of the household; milked the cows, cooked the mess, prepared the flax, spun, wove, and made the garment of linen or linsey; the men hunted, and brought in the meat; they planted, ploughed, and gathered the corn; grinding it into meal at a handmill, or pounding it into hominy in the mortar, was occasionally the work of either, or the joint labor of both. The men exposed themselves alone to danger; they fought the Indians, they cleared the land, they reared the hut or built the fort, in which the women were placed for safety. There might incidentally be a few articles brought to the country for sale, in a private way; but there was no store for supply. Wooden vessels, either turned or coopered were in common use as table furniture. A tin cup was an article of delicate luxury almost as rare as an iron fork. Every hunter carried his knife; it was no less the implement of a warrior; not unfrequently the rest of the family was left with but one or two for the use of all. A like workmanship composed the table or the stool; a slab hewed with the axe, and sticks of a similar manufacture, set in for legs, supported both. When the bed was, by chance or refinement, elevated above the floor, and given a fixed place, it was often laid on slabs placed across poles, supported on forks set in the earthen floor; or where the floor was puncheons, the bedstead was hewed pieces, pinned on upright posts, or let into them by auger holes. Other utensils and furniture were of a corresponding description, applicable to the time.

“The food was of the most wholesome and nutritive kind. The richest milk, the finest butter, and best meat that ever delighted man’s palate, were here eaten with a relish which health and labor only know. These were shared by friend and stranger in every cabin with profuse hospitality.

“Hats were made of the native fur; and the buffalo wool employed in the composition of cloth, as was also the bark of the wild nettle.

“There was some paper money in the country, which had not depreciated one half nor even a fourth as much as it had at the seat of government. If there was any gold or silver its circulation was suppressed. The price of a beaver was five hundred dollars.

“The hunting shirt was universally worn. This was a kind of loose frock, reaching half way down the thighs, with large sleeves, open before, and so wide as to lap over a foot or more when belted. The cape was large and sometimes handsomely fringed with a ravelled piece of cloth of a different color from that of the hunting shirt itself. The bosom of his dress served as a wallet to hold a chunk of bread, cakes, jerk, tow for wiping the barrel of his rifle, or any other necessary for the hunter or warrior. The belt which was always tied behind, answered several purposes besides that of holding the dress together. In cold weather the mittens, and sometimes the bullet-bag occupied the front part of it. To the right side was suspended the tomahawk, and to the left was the scalping knife in its leathern sheath. The hunting shirt was generally made of linsey, sometimes of coarse linen, and a few of dressed deer skins. These last were very cold and uncomfortable in wet weather. The shirt and jacket were of the common fashion. A pair of drawers or breeches and leggins, were the dress of the thighs and legs; a pair of moccasins answered for the feet much better than shoes.—These were made of dressed deer skin. They were mostly made of a single piece, with a gathering seam along the top of the foot, and another from the bottom of the heel, without gathers, as high as the ankle joint or a little higher. Flaps were left on each side to reach some distance up the legs. These were nicely adapted to the ankles and lower part of the leg by thongs of deerskin, so that no dust, gravel, or snow, could get within the moccasin.

“The moccasins in ordinary use cost but a few hours labor to make them. This was done by an instrument denominated a moccasin awl, which was made of the back spring of an old clasp knife. This awl with its buck-horn handle, was an appendage of every shot pouch strap, together with a roll of buckskin for mending the moccasins. This was the labor of almost every evening. They were sewed together and patched with deerskin thongs, or whangs as they were commonly called.

“In cold weather the moccasins were well stuffed with deer’s hair, or dry leaves so as to keep the feet comfortably warm; but in wet weather it was usually said that wearing them was ‘a decent way of going barefooted;’ and such was the fact, owing to the spongy texture of the leather of which they were made.

“Owing to this defective covering of the feet, more than to any other circumstance, the greater number of our warriors and hunters were afflicted with the rheumatism in their limbs. Of this disease they were all apprehensive in cold or wet weather, and therefore always slept with their feet to the fire to prevent or cure it as well as they could. This practice unquestionably had a very salutary effect, and prevented many of them from becoming confirmed cripples in early life.

“The fort consisted of cabins, blockhouses, and stockades. A range of cabins commonly formed one side at least of a fort. Divisions, or partitions of logs, separated the cabins from each other. The walls on the outside were ten or twelve feet high, the slope of the roof being turned wholly inward. A very few of these cabins had puncheon floors, the greater part were earthen.

“The blockhouses were built at the angles of the fort. They projected about two feet beyond the outer walls of the cabins and stockades. The upper stories were about eighteen inches every way larger in dimension than the under one, leaving an opening at the commencement of the second story to prevent the enemy from making a lodgment under their walls. In some forts instead of blockhouses, the angles of the fort were furnished with bastions. A large folding gate, made of thick slabs nearest the spring closed the fort. The stockades, bastions, cabins and blockhouse walls were furnished with port holes at proper heights and distances. The whole of the outside was made completely bullet proof.

“It may be truly said that necessity is the mother of invention; for the whole of this work was made without the aid of a single nail or spike of iron; and for this reason, such things were not to be had.

“In some places, less exposed, a single blockhouse, with a cabin or two, constituted the whole fort.

“For a long time after the first settlement of this country, the inhabitants in general married young. There was no distinction of rank, and very little of fortune. On these accounts the first impression of love resulted in marriage; and a family establishment cost but a little labor and nothing else.

“In the first years of the settlement of this country, a wedding engaged the attention of a whole neighborhood, and the frolic was anticipated by old and young with eager expectation. This is not to be wondered at when it is told that a wedding was almost the only gathering which was not accompanied with the labor of reaping, log rolling, building a cabin or planning some scout or campaign.

“In the morning of the wedding day, the groom and his attendants assembled at the house of his father for the purpose of reaching the mansion of his bride by noon, which was the usual time for celebrating the nuptials; which for certain must take place before dinner.

“Let the reader imagine an assemblage of people, without a store, tailor, or mantuamaker within a hundred miles; and an assemblage of horses, without a blacksmith or saddler within an equal distance. The gentlemen dressed in shoe-packs, moccasins, leather breeches, leggins, linsey hunting shirts, and all homemade. The ladies dressed in linsey petticoats, and linsey or linen bed gowns, coarse shoes, stockings, handkerchiefs and buckskin gloves, if any. If there were any buckles, rings, buttons or ruffles, they were the relics of old times, family pieces from parents or grandparents. The horses are caparisoned with old saddles, old bridles or halters, and pack-saddles, with a bag or blanket thrown over them; a rope or string as often constituted the girth as a piece of leather.

“The march in double file, was often interrupted by the narrowness and obstructions of our horsepaths as they were called, for we had no roads: and these difficulties were often increased, sometimes by the good and sometimes by the ill will of neighbors, by falling trees and tying grape vines across the way. Sometimes an ambuscade was formed by the wayside, and an unexpected discharge of several guns took place, so as to cover the wedding party with smoke. Let the reader imagine the scene which followed this discharge: the sudden spring of the horses, the shrieks of the girls, and the chivalric bustle of their partners to save them from falling. Sometimes, in spite of all that could be done to prevent it, some were thrown to the ground. If a wrist, elbow, or ankle happened to be sprained, it was tied with a handkerchief, and little more was thought or said about it.

Another ceremony commonly took place before the party reached the house of the bride, after the practice of making whisky began, which was at an early period; when the party were about a mile from the place of their destination, two young men would single out to run for the bottle; the worse the path, the more logs, brush, and deep hollows the better, as these obstacles afforded an opportunity for the greater display of intrepidity and horsemanship. The English fox chase, in point of danger to the riders and their horses, is nothing to this race for the bottle. The start was announced by an Indian yell; logs, brush, muddy hollows, hill and glen, were speedily passed by the rival ponies. The bottle was always filled for the occasion, so that there was no use for judges; for the first who reached the door was presented with the prize, with which he returned in triumph to the company. On approaching them he announced his victory over his rival by a shrill whoop. At the head of the troop, he gave the bottle first to the groom and his attendants, and then to each pair in succession to the rear of the line, giving each a dram; and then putting the bottle in the bosom of his hunting shirt, took his station in the company.

The ceremony of the marriage preceded the dinner, which was a substantial backwoods feast of beef, pork, fowls, and sometimes venison and bear meat, roasted and boiled, with plenty of potatoes, cabbage, and other vegetables. During the dinner the greatest hilarity always prevailed, although the table might be a large slab of timber, hewed out with a broad-axe, supported by four sticks set in auger holes, and the furniture some old pewter dishes and plates, the rest wooden bowls and trenchers; a few pewter spoons, much battered about the edges, were to be seen at some tables. The rest were made of horn. If knives were scarce, the deficiency was made up by the scalping knives which were carried in sheaths suspended to the belt of the hunting shirt.

After dinner the dancing commenced, and generally lasted till the next morning. The figures of the dances were three and four handed reels, or square sets, and jigs. The commencement was always a square four, which was followed by what was called jigging it off; that is, two of the four would single out for a jig, and were followed by the remaining couple. The jigs were often accompanied with what was called cutting out; that is, when either of the parties became tired of the dance, on intimation the place was supplied by some one of the company without any interruption of the dance. In this way a dance was often continued till the musician was heartily tired of his situation. Toward the latter part of the night, if any of the company, through weariness, attempted to conceal themselves for the purpose of sleeping, they were hunted up, paraded on the floor, and the fiddler ordered to play “Hang on till tomorrow morning.”

About nine or ten o’clock a deputation of the young ladies stole off the bride and put her to bed. In doing this it frequently happened that they had to ascend a ladder instead of a pair of stairs, leading from the dining and ball room to the loft, the floor of which was made of clapboards lying loose and without nails. This ascent, one might think, would put the bride and her attendants to the blush; but as the foot of the ladder was commonly behind the door, which was purposely opened for the occasion, and its rounds at the inner ends were well hung with hunting shirts, petticoats, and other articles of clothing, the candles being on the opposite side of the house, the exit of the bride was noticed but by few. This done, a deputation of young men in like manner stole off the groom, and placed him snugly by the side of his bride. The dance still continued; and if seats happened to be scarce, which was often the case, every young man, when not engaged in the dance, was obliged to offer his lap as a seat for one of the girls; and the offer was sure to be accepted. In the midst of this hilarity the bride and groom were not forgotten. Pretty late in the night some one would remind the company that the new couple must stand in need of some refreshment; black Betty, which was the name of the bottle, was called for, and sent up the ladder; but sometimes black Betty did not go alone. I have many times seen as much bread, beef, pork and cabbage sent along with her, as would afford a good meal for half a dozen hungry men. The young couple were compelled to eat and drink more or less of whatever was offered them.

It often happened that some neighbors or relatives, not being asked to the wedding, took offense; and the mode of revenge adopted by them on such occasions was that of cutting off the manes, foretops and tails of the horses of the wedding company.

I will proceed to state the usual manner of settling a young couple in the world.

A spot was selected on a piece of land of one of the parents, for their habitation. A day was appointed, shortly after their marriage, for commencing the work of building their cabin. The fatigue party consisted of choppers, whose business it was to fell the trees and cut them off at proper lengths; a man with a team for hauling them to the place and arranging them, properly assorted, at the sides and ends of the building; a carpenter, if such he might be called, whose business it was to search the woods for a proper tree for making clapboards for the roof. The tree for this purpose must be straight grained and from three to four feet in diameter. The boards were split four feet long, with a large frow, and as wide as the timber would allow. They were used without planeing or shaving. Another division was employed in getting puncheons for the floor of the cabin; this was done by splitting trees, about eighteen inches in diameter, and hewing the faces of them with a broad-axe. They were half the length of the floor they were intended to make.

The materials for the cabin were mostly prepared on the first day, and sometimes the foundation laid in the evening. The second day was allotted for the raising.

In the morning of the next day the neighbors collected for the raising. The first thing to be done was the election of four corner men, whose business it was to notch and place the logs. The rest of the company furnished them with the timbers. In the mean time the boards and puncheons were collecting for the floor and roof, so that by the time the cabin was a few rounds high the sleepers and floor began to be laid. The door was made by sawing or cutting the logs in one side so as to make an opening about three feet wide. This opening was secured by upright pieces of timber about three inches thick, through which holes were bored into the ends of the logs for the purpose of pinning them fast. A similar opening but wider was made at the end for the chimney. This was built of logs, and made large to admit of a back and jams of stone. At the square, two end logs projected a foot or eighteen inches beyond the wall to receive the butting poles, as they were called, against which the ends of the first row of clapboards was supported. The roof was formed by making the end log shorter until a single log formed the comb of the roof; on these logs the clapboards were placed, the ranges of them lapping some distance over those next below them, and kept in their places by logs, placed at proper distances upon them.

“The roof, and sometimes the floor, were finished on the same day of the raising. A third day was commonly spent by a few carpenters in leveling off the floor, making a clapboard door and table. This last was made of a spilt slab, and supported by four round legs set in auger holes. Some three legged stools were made in the same manner. Some pins stuck in the logs at the back of the house supported some clapboards which served for shelves for the table furniture. A single fork, placed with its lower end in a hole in the floor, and the upper end fastened to a joist, served for a bedstead, by placing a pole in the fork with one end through a crack between the logs of the wall. This front pole was crossed by a shorter one within the fork, with its outer end through another crack. From the front pole, through a crack between the logs of the end of the house, the boards were put on, which formed the bottom of the bed. Sometimes other poles, were pinned to the fork a little distance above these, for the purpose of supporting the front and foot of the bed, while the walls were the supports of its back and head. A few pegs around the walls for a display of the coats of the women, and hunting shirts of the men, and two small forks or bucks’ horns to a joist for the rifle and shot pouch, completed the carpenter’s work.

“The cabin being finished, the ceremony of house-warming took place, before the young couple were permitted to move into it. The house-warming was a dance of a whole night’s continuance, made up of the relations of the bride and groom, and their neighbors. On the day following the young couple took possession of their new mansion.”

This mansion, slight, inefficient and hastily erected as it was, must have afforded but poor shelter against the severity of a season which is everywhere referred to as one of the coldest ever known. It is asserted that during the winter of 1779-80, still remembered by some as “The Hard Winter,” the wild animals were “starved and frozen in the forests, while the domestic ones fared no better in the settlements.” The rigors of the season, however, did not prevent the influx of immigration; although several families were compelled to endure its severity on their route through the wilderness from Cumberland Gap, and were even delayed in their march till the opening of the Spring. As soon however as the rivers were freed from ice and the intense cold had yielded to the softer airs of the new season, we hear of the arrival of no less than three hundred family boats at the Falls. The causes which influenced so large an immigration hither were various, not the least among them being the security insured at this fort by the presence of Col. Clark. So entire and perfect had been the success of this gallant officer in every expedition, even against the most fearful odds, that to be under his command had come to be reckoned as holding a place among the Invincibles. Let the circumstances be what they might, it is certain that Louisville with her then population of six hundred souls, was growing to be a place worthy of high consideration, and accordingly we find that in May of this year (1780) the legislature of Virginia passed the following

“Act for establishing the town of Louisville at the Falls of Ohio.”

“Whereas, sundry inhabitants of the county of Kentucky have, at great expense and hazard, settled themselves upon certain lands at the falls of Ohio, said to be the property of John Conally, and have laid off a considerable part thereof into half acre lots for a town, and having settled thereon, have prefered petitions to this general assembly to establish the said town, Be it therefore enacted, That one thousand acres of land, being the forfeited property of said John Conally, adjoining to the lands of John Campbell and —— Taylor, be, and the same is hereby vested in John Todd Jr., Stephen Trigg, George Slaughter, John Floyd, William Pope, George Merriweather, Andrew Hines, James Sullivan and Marshall Brashiers, gentlemen, trustees, to be by them or any four of them laid off into lots of an half acre each, with convenient streets and public lots, which shall be, and the same is hereby established a town by the name of Louisville. And be it further enacted, That after the said lands shall be laid off into lots and streets, the said trustees or any four of them, shall proceed to sell the said lots, or so many of them as they shall judge expedient, at public auction, for the best price that can be had, the time and place of sale being advertised two months, at the court houses of adjacent counties; the purchasers respectively to hold their said lots subject to the condition of building on each a dwelling house, sixteen feet by twenty at least, with a brick or stone chimney, to be finished within two years from the day of sale. And the said trustees or any four of them shall and they are hereby empowered to convey the said lots to the purchasers thereof in fee simple, subject to the condition aforesaid, on payment of the money arising from such sale to the said trustees for the uses hereafter mentioned, that is to say: If the money arising from such sale shall amount to Thirty Dollars per acre, the whole shall be paid by the said trustees into the treasury of this commonwealth, and the overplus, if any, shall be lodged with the court of the county of Jefferson to enable them to defray the expenses of erecting the publick buildings of the said county. Provided, That the owners of lots already drawn shall be entitled to the preference therein, upon paying to the trustees the sum of thirty dollars for such half acre lot, and shall be thereafter subject to the same obligations of settling as other lot holders within the said town. And be it further enacted, That the said trustees or the major part of them shall have power, from time to time, to settle and determine all disputes concerning the bounds of the said lots, to settle such rules and orders for the regular building thereon as to them shall seem best and most convenient. And in case of death or removal from the county of any of the said trustees, the remaining trustees shall supply such vacancies by electing of others from time to time, who shall be vested with the same powers as those already mentioned.—And be it further enacted, That the purchasers of the lots in the said town, so soon as they shall have saved the same according to their respective deeds of conveyance, shall have and enjoy all the rights, privileges and immunities, which the freeholders and inhabitants of other towns in this state, not incorporated by charter, have, hold and enjoy.

“And be it further enacted, That if the purchaser of any lot shall fail to build thereon within the time before limited, the said trustees or a major part of them, may thereupon enter into such lot, and may either sell the same again and apply the money towards repairing the streets, or in any other way for the benefit of the said town, or appropriate such lot to publick uses for the benefit of said town. Provided, That nothing herein contained shall extend to affect or injure the title of lands claimed by John Campbell, gentleman, or those persons whose lots have been laid off on his lands, but their titles be and remain suspended until the said John Campbell shall be released from his captivity.”[1]

The survey of the town under this act, as also the second survey made by Peyton and Sullivan, have been in some unaccountable manner destroyed. It is believed, however, that the spirit of these surveys is preserved in Jared Brooke’s plat, which was adopted in 1812. Previous to this the absence of any official document of this kind produced much annoyance, dispute and litigation, in regard to titles and boundaries. The out courses of this survey, as represented by Dr. McMurtrie, are “from 35 poles above the mouth of Beargrass Creek, on the bank of the Ohio river, S. 83, W. 35 poles to the mouth of the creek, thence N. 87, W. 120 poles, N. 50, W. 110 poles to a heap of stones and a square hole cut in the flat rock, thence (the division line) S. 88, E. 769 to a white oak, poplar and beech, N. 37, W. 390 to the beginning; no variation.” This was divided into six streets, running East and West, and twelve streets crossing these others at right angles. The squares so made were, up to Green Street, divided into lots of a little more than half an acre, and South of that into five, ten and twenty acre lots. In all the earlier proceedings of the legislature in regard to the new town we find constant mention made of public squares and grounds; and in the original plat, a slip of 180 feet South of Green Street, and running from First to Twelfth Streets, was reserved for a public promenade and pleasure ground. It is a matter of great regret that this reservation was not really made. An immense common like this, with the forest trees which were then upon it left standing, would now be an invaluable addition to the town, and would enable us to boast of having the most beautiful city in America. We cannot help but wonder that the early inhabitants of the city should have permitted those in authority to commit this gross outrage upon taste and propriety. Had this slip continued in reserve, how beautiful might it now have become! As taste, aided by wealth, began to have its hold among the citizens, it would have been upon the fronts of this great artery that those beautiful churches, public buildings and dwellings, now scattered over so large a space, would have been erected. Here for a distance of more than a mile would have been placed a continuous range of palace-like structures; and here, under the shade of trees “the growth of quite a century” would the gay, the brave and the fair have sat, walked or rode. What a picture would have been presented here on a midsummer night, or at the close of an autumn day! Groups of merry children disporting around, gaily dressed ladies and dashing beaux, a throng of proud equipages and horsemen, the sound of the infant’s prattle, girlhood’s ringing laugh, the mingling of joyous voices, and above all and beyond all the tall and sombre forms of majestic trees raised in relief against the sky, the green carpeted earth and smiling little flowers, and all this in the very heart of a great city—all forms a picture upon which the fancy loves to dwell, and a picture which might readily have been realized had not that inordinate and purely American worship of Gain blotted it from the canvass almost before the designer had expressed it with his pencil.

Nor was a flagrant want of taste the worst feature in this. The whole of the present site of the city at that early day was intersected with ponds of stagnant water. The second bank had something of a descent towards the interior, and the soil, though alluvious, was of sufficient tenacity to retain the water which fell in rain. The result was that the whole of this valley from Beargrass to Salt river was filled with these ponds; and, as a necessary consequence, miasmata were bred, which produced a great deal of sickness, more especially with strangers. So great indeed was the influence thus induced that acclimation was then considered as necessary here as it now is in New Orleans or on the coast of Africa. Many of the present citizens of Louisville will be surprised to know that this very city, now so celebrated for its healthiness as to make its salubrity an inducement to immigration from all parts of the country, was once known as “the Graveyard of the Ohio.” The city worthies who took upon themselves to sell “the Slip” in lots, had at that time no data to induce them to believe in the future healthfulness of their place and yet they must have perceived the increasing prosperity of the town; hence it became almost criminal in them to put away what then seemed the only barrier to disease, and almost to invite its approaches by allowing the city to be compactly built without room for the pure and wholesome circulation of air, but shutting up, as it were, disease and death within their very walls. As the value of property began to increase, however, these gentlemen, actuated only by a desire for present gain, put aside all these considerations and, having divided the slip into four parts exposed it for sale. It comprised all that part of the city now embraced between the north side of Green and the south side of Grayson Streets, but extended, as before said, up to First Street. It is true that great blame was attached to the trustees for their action in this matter at the time, and some movement was made toward trying to destroy the sale by legal means, this however was never actually resorted to, and possession has long since confirmed the titles to all lots lying within its limits. Thus was lost to the city one of the most valuable, if not the very most valuable of all its possessions. The earliest purchasers of this property were Messrs. Johnson, Croghan, Anderson and Campbell.

As we have already referred to the numerous ponds scattered throughout the city, it may not be improper at this point to recall the site of some of them, if only to show how completely the natural disadvantages of the place have been overcome by the energy of its inhabitants. The first and most important of these was called the “Long Pond.” It commenced at the present corner of Sixth and Market Streets, and inclining a little toward the South-West, extended as far as the old Hope Distillery, on or near Sixteenth Streets. The indentation in the ground, still observable, in the alley which commences at Seventh Street and lies between Market and Jefferson Streets, was the former bed of this pond. In the winter, when it was frozen over, this little lake was the scene of many a merry party. On the moonlight evenings, numbers of ladies and gentlemen were to be seen skimming over its surface, the gentlemen on skates and the ladies in chairs, the backs of which were laid upon the ice and the chairs fastened by ropes to the waists of the skaters. And thus they dashed along at furious speed over the glassy surface; beaux and belles, with loud voices and ringing laugh—and the merriment of the occasion was only increased when some dashing fellow, in his endeavors to surpass in agility and daring all his compeers, fell prostrate to the ice, or broke through it into the water beneath.

The next in importance to the one above referred to, was known as Gwathmey’s or Grayson’s Pond. It began on Centre Street just in the rear of the First Presbyterian church, and extended Westwardly half way to Seventh Street. Its form was that of a long elipse; and it was carefully kept by its owners for fish.—Its margin was surrounded by lofty trees and the turf grew to the very edge of the water, which, fed by some internal spring, was always clear and pure. This pond was really a beautiful spot and formed a delightful lounging-place for the idle or the meditative, and one which neither of these classes neglected. It was the scene of all the baptisms performed here in an early day, and no place could be better adapted for this purpose. Its grassy edges afforded an agreeable resting-place for the spectators, while its shape allowed every one to see, hear and partake in the exercises.

Beside these two principal lakes, there were innumerable others, some containing water only after heavy rains and others standing full at all times. Market Street from the corner of Third down was the site of one of these; Third Street between Jefferson and Green of another; Jefferson Street near the corner of Fourth of another, and so on almost ad infinitum. A map of the city as it was sixty or even thirty years ago, would present somewhat the appearance of an archipelago, a sea full of little islands. Whereas now, from the Woodland Garden to the foot of Fifteenth Street, a distance of nearly three miles, not one of these lakes is to be seen. It is not to be wondered at that, as the trees were removed from the surface and the face of these ponds exposed to the burning sun, they should spread the seeds of death all around them. As long as life was precarious from a hundred other causes, this one remained unnoticed, but as soon as the settlements began to be relieved from other fears for life and property, this was taken up, and in 1805 the Legislature authorised the Trustees to remove “those nuisances in such a manner as the majority of them should prescribe.” But the means in the treasury being incompetent to this purpose, any efficient action in relation to it was delayed until after the fearful epidemics of 1822 and 1823, of which we shall have occasion to speak hereafter, when the Board of Health appointed to examine into the causes of the diseases and the means of removing the same, urged the prompt and immediate removal of these ponds. The Legislature during the latter year also authorised the raising of $40,000 by lottery to be applied to draining not only the ponds in Louisville, but also all those between the town and the mouth of Salt River. Under this act these ponds were drained, but those below the city were then left untouched. Many of them however have been since removed under a recent renewal of the act.

But we have been led beyond the era of which we were speaking, and must now return, in another chapter, to the history of the town from its establishment by law in 1780.

CHAPTER II.

1780—During the same year in which the town was established Kentucky received many valuable additions to its inhabitants; among these several persons of wealth or of talent came from the Atlantic States to settle among the “wild countries of the West,” and they were accompanied by many others without either of these requisites, ready at once to seek any and every means of existence. Col. George Slaughter accompanied by 150 State troops descended to the falls and took up his quarters there during this year. This accession placed the inhabitants in comparative security, but it was only comparative, for, emboldened by the knowledge that their fortress was impregnable to the attacks of their foes, men became more careless and unguarded, and the Indians were the very foe to take advantage of this fancied security; so that, as the historian of the period says, the very strength of the settlement and the security of its inhabitants “had the effect of apparently drawing the Indians into that quarter.” The fact, too, that the Ohio formed the natural boundary separating friend and foe was advantageous to the Indians. “They could approach its banks upon their own ground; they might cross it when convenient, reach the settlement, strike a blow and recross the river before a party could be collected or brought to pursue them. The river always presented an object of difficulty and very often an insuperable obstacle to further pursuit. In this state of things it is no matter of surprise that soldiers were shot near the fort, or that in the settlements of Beargrass lives were lost, prisoners taken and horses stolen, with frequent impunity, or but sometimes retaliated.”[2] Connected with these predatory incursions of the Indians, a great many wonderful stories are told of “hair-breadth ’scapes by field and flood.” Histories of incidents in the Indian wars are, however, so similar in their character and so often told and widely known that we shall limit ourselves to the relation of only those that seem in their nature to demand admission here. The first of these presents one of those rare instances of magnanimity and true heroism that ever demands the attention of the chronicler. The station where Shelbyville now stands was a weak and inefficient one, and becoming alarmed by the presence of Indians in their vicinity, its inhabitants determined to remove to Beargrass. In this attempted emigration, however, they were attacked by their foes near Floyd’s Fork, defeated and scattered. Col. John Floyd, hearing of this, immediately started to their relief. In his party was Capt. Samuel Wells who had been on very unfriendly and even inimical terms with his superior officer. Arrived near the point, Col. Floyd separated his men and cautiously approached the enemy. But despite his skill and caution, he fell into an ambuscade and was in his turn defeated with great loss. He himself must have fallen into the hands of the victors but for the magnanimity of Wells. Floyd had dismounted and was nearly exhausted, being closely pursued, when Wells, who had not quitted his horse, rode up and dismounting, helped his old enemy into the saddle and running by his side, supported and protected him till out of the reach of danger. This noble and generous action resulted in the fast and lasting friendship of the two men.

Another incident will show the education, even in boyhood, which the nature of the times demanded. Four young lads, two of them named Linn, accompanied by Wells and Brashears, went on a hunting party to a pond about six miles South-West of Louisville. They succeeded well in their sport, having killed among other game, a small cub bear. While they were assisting the elder Linn to strap the bear on his shoulders, and had laid down their guns, they were surprised by a party of Indians, and hurried over to the White river towns, where they remained in captivity several months. One of the party had in the mean time been carried to another town; and late in the fall the remaining three determined to effect their escape. When night had come, they rose quietly, and having stunned the old squaw, in whose hut they were living, by repeated blows with a small axe, they stole out of the lodge and started for Louisville. After daybreak, they concealed themselves in a hollow log, where they were frequently passed by the Indians who were near them everywhere; and at night they resumed their march, guided only by the stars and their knowledge of woodcraft. After several days, during which they subsisted on the game they could procure, they reached the river at Jeffersonville. Arrived here they halooed for their friends, but did not succeed in making themselves heard. They had however no time to lose; the Indians were behind them and if they were retaken, they knew their doom. Accordingly, as two of them could not swim, they constructed a raft of the drift-logs about the shore and tied it together with grape vines, and the two launched upon it, while Brashears plunged into the water, pushing the raft with one hand and swimming with the other. Before they had arrived at the other shore, and when their raft was in a sinking condition from having taken up so much water, they were descried from this side, and boats went out and returned them safely to their friends.[3]

Only a few months ago, some gentlemen traveling near the south-eastern boundary of the city, discovered in an old tree the name of D. Boone and the date 1779, appended. Considering this a great curiosity, one of them removed it from the tree and attempted to confirm the authenticity of the date by counting the circles in the wood of the tree. Finding these to agree with the date marked, he carefully preserved the block containing this record, which is now to be seen in the library of the Kentucky Historical Society. This circumstance is mentioned here only still further to confirm the authenticity of this block by stating a similar case which occurred in 1811. In the spring of 1779, Squire Boone, the brother of Daniel, in company with two others, went from the falls to Bullitt’s Lick to shoot buffalo. After finishing their sport, they were returning home, when night overtook them at Stewart’s Spring. The young men proposed to remain here for the night, but Boone objected, fearing an attack from the Indians. They accordingly turned off some 300 yards to the West, where they encamped for the night. There, while Boone and another of the party were arranging for the encampment, the third, being idle, amused himself by cutting a name and a few words on the bark of the tree. Afterwards, in 1811, during some legal investigation about lands, Boone testified to the existence of these marks near Stewart’s Spring, and upon examination they were found just as he had stated, although 32 years had elapsed since the cut was made. This fact is placed upon record in the Court of Appeals and does not admit of a doubt. The instance before referred to is of a precisely similar character, and the marks are probably equally authentic as those of the last.

It would be easy to relate numerous instances, similar to those already given, both as to the wonderful skill of the pioneers in woodcraft, and their daring, danger and miraculous escapes in the Indian fights, but, as has already been said, these anecdotes, often incorrect, and always difficult to narrate without embellishment, are so familiar to the majority of readers, and possess such similarity of outline that they would be interesting here only to those who have some personal knowledge of the actors in those scenes. There will be occasion hereafter, in speaking of some of the distinguished men of another period of this history, to refer again to subjects kindred to those above narrated.

In May of this year, still 1780, the Legislature of Virginia, on account of the difficulties attending the proper administration of justice, and for other similar causes occasioned by the sparseness of the settlements in so large an extent of territory, passed an act dividing the county of Kentucky into three counties. Of these, the first was thus defined: “All that part of the South side of the Kentucky river which lies West and North of a line beginning at the mouth of Benson’s Big Creek and running up the same and its main fork to the head, thence South to the nearest waters of Hammond’s Creek, and down the same to its junction with the town fork of Salt river, thence South to Green river and down the same to its junction with the Ohio;” and was ordered to be known by the name of Jefferson. The other two counties were called Fayette and Lincoln.

Beside this there were few occurrences worthy of note during the year, which bear directly upon the subject of this history. Col. Clark had not only made his successful expedition against Pickway, but had built Fort Jefferson, five miles below the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers and in the territory of the Chickasaws, thus adding that tribe to the already numerous foes of his adopted State. It was however soon evacuated and this evacuation accepted and acted upon by both parties as a tacit treaty of peace.

Early in the next year—1781—Col. Clark received his commission as Brigadier General. He now began to feel the necessity for some new display of activity in defending the frontier and accordingly he built a sort of row-galley upon which he placed some four-pound cannon. This galley was kept plying between the Falls and the mouth of Licking, and is by some believed to have been of very great service in keeping off the attacks of the Indians; while others are of opinion that it was entirely valueless. Be that as it may; the galley was abandoned by the General before the close of the year. The Indians are said never to have attacked it and but seldom to have crossed that part of the river in which it moved. Various as are the opinions in regard to the utility of Clark’s barge, the fact of its having been so soon abandoned by the very projectors of the enterprise certainly does not speak much in its favor.

Another of the most important features of this year, perhaps indeed the very most important, was one which will now produce a smile. At that time, however, it was a subject of serious congratulation to the inhabitants of the new country. This was no less than the large immigration of young unmarried women into this region, abounding in young unmarried men. One of the historians of the time, in chronicling this event, remarks, with all the soberness and propriety due to the most solemn subject, that “the necessary consequence of this large influx of girls was the rapid and wonderful increase of population.” Whether this increase was produced by purely natural means or by foreign immigration is left by him in the profoundest doubt. Perhaps that worthy individual known as “The Oldest Inhabitant” could elucidate this point.

The only other circumstance worthy of notice during the year, was the building at the falls of a new fort. History gives us no information either as to the name or location of this position of defense. Its very name and history is swallowed up in that of Fort Nelson which must have been built very soon after, if it was not commenced at the same time as this nameless fort.

Fort Nelson was built in 1782 by the regular troops, assisted by all the militia of the State. It was situated between Sixth and Eighth Streets on the North side of Main, immediately upon the “second bank” of the river. Its name was derived, as some say from Capt. Nelson, an influential citizen of Louisville in that day, but more probably was named in honor of the third republican governor of Virginia. It contained about an acre of ground and was surrounded by a ditch eight feet wide and ten feet deep, intersected in the middle by a sharp row of pickets. This ditch was surmounted by a breast work of log pens filled with the earth obtained from the ditch, with pickets ten feet high planted on the top of the breast work. Next to the river, pickets were deemed sufficient, aided by the long slope of the bank. There was artillery likewise in the fort. Col. Slaughter had brought with him several very small cannon, and Gen. Clark had placed here a double fortified six-pounder, which he had captured at Vincennes. This last piece played no inconsiderable part both in the previous and subsequent expeditions of this General. The present site of Seventh Street passed directly through the gate of the fort opposite the head quarters of Gen. Clark. The pickets and various other parts of this fort have been from time to time, since 1830, dug up in excavating cellars at the place formerly occupied by the post. Many of the pickets thus excavated have been made into walking canes and are valued as memorials of the past.

This year was perhaps one of the most disastrous and dreadful in the annals of Kentucky. Although the settlements at the Falls were comparatively free from danger of attack, yet the older stations were suffering all the horrors of a bloody war. Several white men, impelled either by a love of the licentiousness and freedom from restraint of the savage life or by fear of punishment for their crimes, had united themselves with the Indians and constantly urged them against the Whites. The most celebrated of these were Girty and McKee, who had risen to a commanding rank among the red men, and their knowledge of the settlements enabled them to direct their new friends in all their expeditions. Previous to the great battle in which these renegadoes figured so largely, was the defeat and death of Captain Estill on Hinckston’s Fork of Licking and also a bloody fight at or near Hoy’s station. The great battle of the year however was at Blue Licks, and it was here that these renegadoes, whose names deserve and will receive perpetual execration, were successful. The result of this battle is well known to all readers of western history. Its effect upon the inhabitants of the new State was disheartening in the extreme. Gen. Clark, who was still at the Falls, seeing the necessity for rousing the people from their despondence and desirous of punishing the foe, proposed to a council of officers an expedition against the Indian towns on Miami and Scioto. And accordingly nearly one thousand men made rendezvous at the mouth of Licking and started for the towns. The Indians discovered their approach too soon for anything like a decisive battle, and they found only deserted towns and straggling Indians on their march. The result of this invasion however convinced both sides of the superiority of the Whites, and restored the drooping spirits in the settlements. After this expedition the country remained quiet during the year, nor did any considerable party of Indians ever again invade the State.

In the winter of this year commenced the first of anything like intercourse between this part of the Ohio and New Orleans. Messrs. Tardiveau and Honore, the latter of whom resided in this city until within a few years, made the earliest trip from Brownsville to that port, and subsequently continued to make regular trips from Louisville to the French and Spanish ports on the Mississippi. Even previous to this, Col. Richard Taylor and his brother Hancock Taylor, had descended from Pittsburg to the mouth of the Yazoo; and Messrs. Gibson and Linn, in 1776, had made a trip from Pittsburg to New Orleans with a view to procuring military stores for the troops stationed at the former place. These gentlemen succeeded in their expedition, having obtained 156 kegs of powder, which arrived at the Falls in 1777, was carried around them by hand, and finally delivered at Pittsburg.

These early attempts at navigation were soon succeeded by the constant and regular trips of the Barges. Perhaps the most stirring and exciting scenes of western adventure were connected with the voyages of these peculiar craft. The bargemen were a distinct class of people whose fearlessness of character, recklessness of habits and laxity of morals rendered them a marked people. Their history will hereafter form the groundwork of many a heroic romance or epic poem. In the earlier stages of this sort of navigation, their trips were dangerous, not only on account of the Indians whose hunting-grounds bounded their track on either side, but also because the shores of both rivers were infested with organized banditti, who sought every occasion to rob and murder the owners of these boats. Beside all this the Spanish Government had forbidden the navigation of the lower Mississippi by the Americans, and thus, hedged in every way by danger, it became these boatmen to cultivate all the hardihood and wiliness of the Pioneer, while it led them also into the possession of that recklessness and independent freedom of manner, which even after the causes that produced it had ceased, still clung to and formed an integral part of the character of the Western Bargeman. It is a matter of no little surprise that something like an authentic history of these wonderful men has never been written. Certainly it is desirable to preserve such a history, and no book could have been undertaken which would be likely to produce more both of pleasure and profit to the writer and none which would meet with a larger circle of delighted readers. The traditions on the subject are, even at this recent period, so vague and contradictory that it would be difficult to procure anything like reliable or authentic data in regard to them. No story in which the bargemen figure is too improbable to be narrated, nor can one determine what particular person is the hero of an incident which is in turn laid at the door of each distinguished member of the whole fraternity. Some of these incidents however will serve so well to give an idea of the peculiar characteristics of the bargemen, and possess so much merit in themselves, that they cannot be omitted here. Previous to referring to any of these anecdotes, however, it may be interesting to introduce the following excellent description of the manner of navigating the Ohio and Mississippi prior to the introduction of steamboats. It is from the pen of Audubon, the celebrated ornithologist, whose death has been recently announced and has caused a feeling of deep regret in all who know how to admire that union of simple goodness of character with greatness of mind and untiring energy of study, which he, perhaps more than any other American, possessed.

“The keelboats and barges were employed,” says this extract, “in conveying produce of different kinds, such as lead, flour, pork and other articles. These returned laden with sugar, coffee and dry goods, suited for the markets of Genevieve and St. Louis on the upper Mississippi or branched off and ascended the Ohio to the foot of the falls at Louisville. A keelboat was generally manned by ten hands, principally Canadian French, and a patroon or master. These boats seldom carried more than from twenty to thirty tons. The barges had frequently forty or fifty men, with a patroon, and carried fifty or sixty tons. Both these kind of vessels were provided with a mast, a square sail, and coils of cordage known by the name of cordelles. Each boat or barge carried its own provisions. We shall suppose one of these boats under way, and, having passed Natchez, entering upon what were called the difficulties of their ascent. Wherever a point projected so as to render the course or bend below it of some magnitude, there was an eddy, the returning current of which was sometimes as strong as that of the middle of the great stream. The bargemen, therefore, rowed up pretty close under the bank, and had merely to keep watch in the bow lest the boat should run against a planter or sawyer. But the boat has reached the point, and there the current is to all appearance of double strength and right against it. The men, who have rested a few minutes, are ordered to take their stations and lay hold of their oars, for the river must be crossed, it being seldom possible to double such a point and proceed along the same shore. The boat is crossing, its head slanting to the current, which is, however, too strong for the rowers, and when the other side of the river has been reached, it has drifted perhaps a quarter of a mile. The men are by this time exhausted, and, as we shall suppose it to be 12 o’clock, fasten the boat to a tree on the shore. A small glass of whiskey is given to each, when they cook and eat their dinner, and after resting from their fatigue for an hour, re-commence their labors. The boat is again seen slowly advancing against the stream. It has reached the lower end of a sandbar, along the edge of which it is propelled by means of long poles, if the bottom be hard. Two men, called bowsmen, remain at the prow to assist, in concert with the steersman, in managing the boat and keeping its head right against the current. The rest place themselves on the land side of the footway of the vessel, put one end of their poles on the ground and the other against their shoulders and push with all their might. As each of the men reaches the stern, he crosses to the other side, runs along it and comes again to the landward side of the bow, when he re-commences operations. The barge in the mean time is ascending at a rate not exceeding one mile in the hour.

“The bar is at length passed, and as the shore in sight is straight on both sides and the current uniformly strong, the poles are laid aside, and the men being equally divided, those on the river side take to their oars, while those on the land-side lay hold of the branches of willows or other trees, and thus slowly propel the boat. Here and there, however, the trunk of a fallen tree, partly lying on the bank and partly projecting beyond it, impedes their progress and requires to be doubled. This is performed by striking into it the iron points of the poles and gaff-hooks, and so pulling around it. The sun is now quite low, and the barge is again secured in the best harbor within reach for the night, after having accomplished a distance of perhaps fifteen miles. The next day the wind proves favorable, the sail is set, the boat takes all advantages, and, meeting with no accident, has ascended thirty miles—perhaps double that distance. The next day comes with a very different aspect. The wind is right ahead, the shores are without trees of any kind, and the canes on the bank are so thick and stout that not even the cordelles can be used. This occasions a halt. The time is not altogether lost, as most of the men, being provided with rifles, betake themselves to the woods and search for the deer, the bears or the turkeys that are generally abundant there. Three days may pass before the wind changes, and the advantages gained on the previous five days are forgotten. Again the boat proceeds, but in passing over a shallow place, runs on a log, swings with the current, but hangs fast with her lea-side almost under water. Now for the poles! all hands are on deck, bustling and pushing. At length, towards sunset, the boat is once more afloat, and is again taken to the shore where the wearied crew pass another night.

“I could tell you of the crew abandoning the boat and cargo and of numberless accidents and perils, but be it enough to say, that advancing in this tardy manner, the boat that left New Orleans on the 1st of March, often did not reach the Falls of Ohio until the month of July, sometimes not until October; and after all this immense trouble, it brought only a few bags of coffee and at most one hundred hogsheads of sugar. Such was the state of things as late as 1808. The number of barges at that period did not amount to more than 25 or 30, and the largest probably did not exceed one hundred tons burden. To make the best of this fatiguing navigation, I may conclude by saying that a barge which came up in three months, had done wonders, for I believe few voyages were performed in that time.”

In this little history, Mr. Audubon has said nothing of what was by far the most “dangerous danger” to which the crews of these craft were exposed. This was the attack, open and fearless as well as sneaking and treacherous, of the Boatwreckers. The country on both sides of the river from Louisville to the mouth of the Ohio was an almost unpeopled wilderness. On the north side of the river from Fort Massac to the Mississippi, there lived a gang of these desperadoes, whose exploits need only the genius of a Schiller to render them the wonder of the world and the admiration of those who love to gloat over tales of blood. There was an impudence and recklessness of life and of danger connected with these fellows, coupled with a dash of spirit and humor, that would render them excellent materiel in the hands of a skillful novelist; but they lacked that high sense of honor and that gentlemanly bearing which made heroes of the robbers of the Rhine, of Venice or of Mexico.

Their plan of action was to induce the crew of the passing “broad-horn” to land, to play a game of cards, (the favorite passion of the boatmen) and to cheat them unmercifully. If this scheme failed, they would pilot the boats into a difficult place, or, in pretended friendship, give them from the shores such directions as would not fail to run them on a snag or dash them to pieces against some hidden obstruction. If they were outwitted in all this, they would creep into the boats as they were tied up at night, and bore holes in the bottom or dig out the caulking. When the boat was sinking, they would get out their skiffs and craft of all kinds, and in the most philanthropic manner come to save the goods from the wreck. And save them they did, for they would row them up the little creeks that led from swamps in the interior and no trace of them could afterwards be seen. Or if some hardy fellow dared to go in pursuit of his saved cargo, he was sure to find an unknown grave in the morasses.

One of the most famous of these boatwreckers was Col. Fluger of New Hampshire, who is better known in the West as Col. Plug. This worthy gentleman long held undisputed sway over the quiet boatwreckers about the mouth of Cash Creek. He was supposed to possess keys to every warehouse between that place and Louisville, and to have used them for his own private purposes on many occasions. He was a married man and became the father of a family. His wife’s soubriquet was Pluggy and like many others of her sex, her charms were a sore affliction to the Colonel’s peace of mind. Plug’s lieutenant was by him suspected of undue familiarity with Mrs. Col. Plug. The Colonel’s nice sense of honor was outraged, his family pride aroused—he called Lieutenant Nine-Eyes to the field.

“Dern your soul,” said he, “do you think this sort of candlestick ammer (clandestine amour he meant,) will pass? If you do, by gosh, I will put it to you or you shall put it to me.”

They used rifles, the ground was measured, the affair settled in the most proper and approved style. And they did put it to each other. Each received a ball in some fleshy part, and each admitted that “he was satisfied.”

“You are all grit!” said Col. Plug.

“And you waded in like a raal Kaintuck,” rejoined Nine-Eyes.

Col. Plug’s son and heir, who very possibly was the real subject-matter of dispute, and who was upon the ground, was ordered to place a bottle of whisky midway between the disputants. Up to this they limped and over it they embraced, swearing that “they were too well used to these things to be phazed by a little cold lead;” and Pluggy’s virtue having been thus proved immaculate, the duel as well as the animosity of the parties ceased. Col. Plug, man of honor as he was, sometimes met with very rough treatment from the boatmen, whose half savage natures could ill appreciate a gentleman of his birth and breeding. An instance of this is recorded by the same historian upon whom we have drawn for the greater part of the above account of the duel.[4] A broad-horn from Louisville had received rough usage from Plug’s men the year before, and accordingly, on their next descent, they laid their scheme of revenge. Several of their crew left the boat before arriving at Plug’s domain, and quietly stole down the river bank to its place of landing. The boat with its small crew was quietly harbored, the men hospitably received and invited to sit down to a game of cards. They were scarcely seated and had placed their money before them, when Plug’s signal whistle for an onset sounded in their ears. The reserve corps of boatmen also heard it, knew its import and rushed to the rescue. The battle was quickly over. Three of Plug’s men were thrown into the river and the rest fled, leaving their brave commander on the field. Resistance did not avail him. Those ruthless boatmen stripped him to the skin, and forcing him to embrace a sapling about the size of his dear Pluggy’s waist, they bound him immovably in this loving squeeze. Then seizing the cowhide each applied it till he was tired, and so they left him alone with his troublesome thoughts and with a yet more troublesome and sanguinary host of musquitoes, which, lured by the ease with which they could now get a full meal of that blood which had before been effectually preserved from their attacks by a thick epidermis, sallied forth to the feast by myriads. Pluggy, finding her bower lonely without its lord, came forth to seek him. Closely embracing the tree and covered from any immodest exposure of his person by a gauzy cloud of musquito wings, she found him. Clasping her hands, with a Siddons-like start and air, she cried, in her peculiarly elegant but somewhat un-English dialect: “Yasu Cree! O carissimo sposo, what for, like von dem fool, you hug zat tree and let ze marengoes eat up all your sweet brud?”

The historian is pained to record that all the answer she obtained to this tender solicitude was a curse. Plug cursed her, but Plug’s evil spirit was aroused. Let the reader suppose himself in Plug’s position and he will not blame that gentleman for the ungenerous reply that forced itself to his lips.

Not very long after this, Col. Plug came to his untimely end. Just as a squall was coming up, Col. Plug was in a boat whose crew had left it for an hour or so, engaged in the exercise of his profession; that is, he was digging the caulking out of the bottom, when the squall came on rather prematurely and broke the fastenings of the boat. It began to sink, and Col. Plug after vain endeavors to reach the shore, sank with it and was seen no more. Whether Pluggy still bewails her lost lord or has followed him in sorrow to the other shore, history does not tell us.

This sketch of the character of the boat wreckers will prepare the reader for forming some idea of the boatmen who were their prey. Among the most celebrated of these, every reader of western history will at once remember Mike Fink, the hero of his class. So many and so marvellous are the stories told of this man that numbers of persons are inclined altogether to disbelieve his existence. That he did live however does not admit of a doubt. Many are yet living who knew him personally. As it is to him that all the more remarkable stories of western river adventure are attributed, his history will form the only example here given to illustrate the character of the western bargemen. It is however necessary to observe, that while Mike possessed all the characteristics of his class, a history of the various adventures attributed to him would present these characteristics in an exaggerated degree. Even the slight sketch here drawn cannot pretend to authenticity; for, aside from the fact, that, like other heroes, Mike has suffered from the exuberant fancy of his historians, he has also had in his own person to atone to posterity for many acts which never came from under his hand and seal. As the representative, however, of an extinct class of men, his ashes will not rise in indignation even if he is again made the “hero of fields his valor never won.”

Mike Fink was born in or near Pittsburg, where certain of his relatives still reside. In his earlier life he acted in the capacity of an Indian spy, and won great renown for himself by the wonderful facility with which, while yet a boy, he gained a knowledge of every act and movement of the foe. But while in the exercise of this calling, the free, wild and adventurous life of the boatmen attracted his youthful fancy, and the enchanting music of the boat-horn soon lured him away from Pittsburg to try his fortunes on the broad Ohio. He had learned to mimic all the tones of the boatman’s horn, and he longed to go to New Orleans where he heard that the people spoke French and wore their Sunday clothes every day. He went, and from an humble pupil in his profession soon became a glorious master. When the river was too low to be navigable, Mike spent his time in the practice of rifle-shooting, then so eminently useful and desirable an accomplishment; and in this, as in all his serious undertakings, he soon surpassed his compeers. His skill with the rifle was so universally acknowledged, that whenever Mike was present at a Shooting-Match for Beef, such as were then of common occurrence all over the country, he was always allowed the fifth quarter, i. e. the hide and the tallow, without a shot. This was a perquisite of Mike’s skill, and one which he always claimed, always obtained and always sold for whisky with which to “treat the crowd.” His capacity as a drinker was enormous; he could drink a gallon in twenty-four hours without its effect being perceptible in his language or demeanor. Mike was a bit of a wag, too, and had a singular way of enforcing his jests. He used to say that he told his jokes on purpose to be laughed at, and no man should “make light” of them. The consequence was, that whoever had the temerity to refuse a laugh where Mike intended to raise one, received a sound drubbing and an admonition for the future, which was seldom neglected. His practical jokes, for so he and his associates called their predations on the inhabitants of the shores along which they passed, were always characterized by a boldness of design and a sagacity of execution that showed no mean talent on Mike’s part. One of the most ingenious of these tricks, and one which affords a fair idea of the spirit of them all, is told as follows: Passing slowly down the river, Mike observed a very large and beautiful flock of sheep grazing on the shore, and being in want of fresh provisions, but scorning to buy them, Mike hit upon the following expedient. He noticed that there was an eddy near to the shore, and, as it was about dusk, he landed his boat in the eddy and tied her fast. In his cargo there were some bladders of scotch-snuff. Mike opened one of these and taking out a handful of the contents, he went ashore and catching five or six of the sheep, rubbed their faces very thoroughly with the snuff. He then returned to his boat and sent one of his men in a great hurry to the sheep-owner’s house to tell him that he “had better come down and see what was the matter with his sheep.” Upon coming down hastily in answer to Mike’s summons, the gentleman saw a portion of his flock very singularly affected; leaping, bleating, rubbing their noses against the ground and against each other, and performing all manner of undignified and unsheeplike antics. The gentleman was sorely puzzled and demanded of Mike “if he knew what was the matter with the sheep.”

“You don’t know?” answered Mike very gravely.

“I do not,” replied the gentleman.

“Did you ever hear of the black murrain?” asked Mike in a confidential whisper.

“Yes,” said the sheep owner in a terrified reply.

“Well, that’s it!” said Mike. “All the sheep up river’s got it dreadful. Dyin’ like rotten dogs—hundreds a day.”

“You don’t say so,” answered the victim, “and is there no cure for it?”

“Only one as I knows on,” was the reply. “You see the murrain’s dreadful catchin’, and ef you don’t git them away as is got it, they’ll kill the whole flock. Better shoot ’em right-off; they’ve got to die any way.”

“But no man could single out the infected sheep and shoot them from among the flock,” said the gentleman.

“My name’s Mike Fink!” was the curt reply.

And it was answer enough. The gentleman begged Mike to shoot the infected sheep and throw them into the river. This was exactly what Mike wanted, but he pretended to resist. “It mought be a mistake,” he said; “they’ll may be git well. He didn’t like to shoot Manny’s sheep on his own say so. He’d better go an’ ask some of the neighbors ef it was the murrain sure ’nuf.” The gentleman insisted, and Mike modestly resisted, until finally he was promised a couple of gallons of old Peach Brandy if he would comply. His scruples thus finally overcome, Mike shot the sheep, threw them into the eddy and got the brandy. After dark, the men jumped into the water, hauled the sheep aboard, and by daylight had them neatly packed away and were gliding merrily down the stream.[5]

Another story, of a rather different character, is told to illustrate the recklessness of the man. It occurred on the Mississippi river. A negro had come down to the bank to gaze at the passing boat, who had the singularly projecting heel peculiar to some races of Africans. This peculiarity caught Mike’s eye, and so far outraged his ideas of symmetry that he determined to correct it. Accordingly he raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired, carrying away the offensive projection. The negro fell crying murder, believing himself mortally wounded. Mike was apprehended for this trick, at St. Louis, and found guilty, but we do not hear of the infliction of any punishment. A writer in the Western Monthly Review for July, 1829, in a letter to the editor of that magazine, asserts that he has himself seen the records of this case in the books of the court, and that Mike’s only defense was that “the fellow couldn’t wear a genteel boot and he wanted to fix it so that he could.”

One of his feats with the rifle which Mike most loved to boast of occurred somewhere in Indiana. Mike’s boat was lying to, from some cause, and he had gone ashore in pursuit of game. “As he was creeping along with the stealthy tread of a cat, his eye fell upon a beautiful buck, browsing on the edge of a barren spot a little distance off. Repriming his gun and picking his flint, Mike made his approach in his usual noiseless manner. At the moment he reached the spot from which he meant to take aim, he observed a large Indian intent upon the same object, advancing from a direction little different from his own. Mike shrank behind a tree with the quickness of thought, and keeping his eye fixed upon the hunter, waited the result with patience. In a few moments the Indian halted within fifty paces and leveled his piece at the deer. Instantly Mike presented his rifle at the body of the savage, and at the moment smoke issued from the gun of the latter, the bullet of Fink passed through the red man’s breast. He uttered a yell and fell dead at the same instant with the deer. Mike re-loaded his rifle and remained in covert some minutes to ascertain whether any more enemies were at hand. He then stepped up to the prostrate savage, and having satisfied himself that life was extinct, turned his attention to the buck, took from the carcass the pieces suited to jerking and retraced his steps in high glee to the boat.”[6] He used to say that was what he called “killing two birds with one stone.”

In all his little tricks, as Mike called them, he never displayed any very accurate respect to the laws either of propriety or property, but he was so ingenious in his predations that it is impossible not to laugh at his crimes. The stern rigor of Justice, however, did not feel disposed to laugh at Mike, but on the contrary offered a reward for his capture. For a long time Mike fought shy and could not be taken, until an old friend of his, who happened to be a constable, came to his boat when she was moored at Louisville and represented to Mike the poverty of his family; and, presuming on Mike’s known kindness of disposition, urged him to allow himself to be taken, and so procure for his friend the promised reward. He showed Mike the many chances of escape from conviction, and withal plead so strongly that Mike’s kind heart at last overcame him and he consented—but upon one condition! He felt at home nowhere but in his boat and among his men: let them take him and his men in the yawl and they would go. It was the only hope of procuring his appearance at court and the constable consented. Accordingly a long-coupled wagon was procured, and with oxen attached it went down the hill, at Third Street for Mike’s yawl. The road, for it was not then a street, was very steep and very muddy at this point. Regardless of this, however, the boat was set upon the wagon, and Mike and his men, with their long poles ready, as if for an aquatic excursion, were put aboard, Mike in the stern. By dint of laborious dragging the wagon had attained half the height of the hill, when out shouted the stentorian voice of Mike calling to his men—Set Poles!—and the end of every long pole was set firmly in the thick mud—Back Her!—roared Mike, and down the hill again went wagon, yawl, men and oxen. Mike had been revolving the matter in his mind and had concluded that it was best not to go; and well knowing that each of his men was equal to a moderately strong ox, he had at once conceived and executed this retrograde movement. Once at the bottom, another parley was held and Mike was again overpowered. This time they had almost reached the top of the hill, when Set poles!—Back her! was again ordered and again executed. A third attempt, however, was successful, and Mike reached the court house in safety; and, as his friend, the constable, had endeavored to induce him to believe, he was acquitted for lack of sufficient evidence. Other indictments, however, were found against him, but Mike preferred not to wait to hear them tried; so, at a given signal he and his men boarded their craft again and stood ready to weigh anchor. The dread of the long poles in the hands of Mike’s men prevented the posse from urging any serious remonstrance against his departure. And off they started with poles “tossed.” As they left the court house yard Mike waved his red bandanna, which he had fixed on one of the poles, and promising to “call again” was borne back to his element and launched once more upon the waters.

After the introduction of steamboats on the Western rivers, Mike’s occupation was gone. He could not consent, however, altogether to quit his free, wild life of adventure; and accordingly in 1822, he, together with Carpenter and Talbot, who were his firmest friends, joined Henry and Ashley’s company of Missouri trappers, and with this company they proceeded in the same year up to the mouth of the Yellow Stone river. Here a fort was built and from this point parties of hunters were sent out in all directions. Mike with his two friends and nine others formed one of these parties, and preferring to live to themselves, they dug a hole in the river bluff and here spent the winter. While here, Mike Fink and Carpenter had a fierce quarrel, caused probably by rivalry in the favors of a certain squaw. Previous to this time the friendship of these two men had been unbounded. Carpenter was equally as good a shot as Mike and it had been their custom to place a tin cup of whisky on each other’s head by turns and shoot it off at the distance of seventy yards with their rifles. This feat they had often performed and always successfully.

After the quarrel, and when spring had returned, they re-visited the fort and over a cup of whisky they talked over their difficulty and rendered their vows of amity, which were to be ratified by the usual trial of shooting at the cup. They “skyed a copper” for the first shot and Mike won it. Carpenter, who knew Mike thoroughly, declared he was going to be killed, but scorned to refuse the test. He prepared himself for the worst. He bequeathed his gun, pistols, wages, &c., to Talbot, in case he should be killed. They went to the field, and while Mike loaded his gun and prepared for the shot, Carpenter filled a tin cup to the brim, and, without moving a feature, placed it on his devoted head. At this target Mike levelled his piece. After fixing his aim, however, he took down his gun, and laughingly cried, “Hold your noddle steady, Carpenter, and don’t spill the whisky, for I shall want some presently.” Then raising his rifle again, he pulled the trigger, and in an instant Carpenter fell and expired without a groan. The ball had penetrated the center of his forehead about an inch and a half above the eyes. Mike coolly set down his rifle and blew the smoke out of it, keeping his eye fixed on the prostrate body of his quondam friend. “Carpenter,” said he, “have you spilt the whisky?” He was told that he had killed Carpenter. “It is all an accident,” said he, “I took as fair a bead on the black spot on the cup as ever I took on a squirrel’s eye. How could it happen?” And he fell to cursing powder, gun, bullet and himself.

In the wild country where they then were, the hand of justice could not reach Mike and he went unmolested. But Talbot had determined to avenge Carpenter, and one day, after several months had elapsed, when Mike, in a drunken fit of boasting, swore in Talbot’s presence that he had killed Carpenter intentionally and that he was glad of it, Talbot drew out one of the pistols which had been left him by the murdered man and shot Mike through the heart. In less than four months after this Talbot was himself drowned in attempting to swim the Titan river, and with him perished “the last of the boatmen.”

Mike Fink’s person is thus described by the writer in the Western Monthly before referred to. “His weight was about 180 pounds; height about five feet, nine inches; broad, round face, pleasant features, brown skin, tanned by sun and rain; blue, but very expressive eyes, inclining to grey; broad, white teeth, and square brawny form, well proportioned; and every muscle of the arms, thighs and legs, was fully developed, indicating the greatest strength and activity. His person, taken altogether, was a model for a Hercules, except as to size.” Of his character, Mike has himself given the best epitome. He used to say, “I can out-run, out-hop, out-jump, throw down, drag out and lick any man in the country. I’m a Salt-river roarer; I love the wimming and I’m chock full of fight.”

The early history of steamboat navigation will appear in its proper place.

CHAPTER III.

Having passed over these pleasant and exciting histories of personal adventure, the reader now returns to the soberer chronicles of general history. In the spring of 1783 it became known in Kentucky that peace had been declared, and this joyous news could not have arrived at a more opportune time. The people had been harrassed by war until they were sick and disheartened, and although the news of peace did not drive off all fear of attack from the Indians, yet the consciousness that the posts formerly held by the British, which had been the chief depot of supplies for the Indians, would now fall into the possession of their countrymen, and consequently, that, although not yet arrived, the time would come when even the Indian hostility would cease; all this put a new life into the settlements of Kentucky.

Peace with Great Britain having been declared, the necessity for an army on the borders of Virginia no longer existed; and as that State was pressed for means, this army was disbanded, and the commission of Gen. Clark withdrawn, with many thanks to this gentleman “for his very great and singular services.” This was soon followed by a much more substantial testimony of the favor in which he was held by his native State, for during the same year he and his soldiers received a grant of one hundred and fifty thousand acres of land lying north of the Ohio, to be located where they chose. They selected the region opposite to the falls, and thus was founded the town of Clarksville, which still remains in a state scarcely more improved than it then was.

Something like security and confidence was now established, and consequently the immigration here was constant and large. Factories for supplying the necessities of the household were established, schools were opened, the products of the soil were carefully attended to, and abundant crops were collected; several fields of wheat were gathered near Louisville, and the whole country changed its character from that of a series of military outposts to the more peaceful and more attractive one of a newly settled, but rich and fruitful territory, where industry met its reward, and where every one could live who was not too proud or too indolent to work. It was during this year that a new era was opened to the citizens of Louisville. A lot of merchandise, all the way from Philadelphia, arrived at the falls, and Daniel Brodhead opened there a retail store. The young ladies could now throw aside all the homely products of their own looms, take the wooden skewers from their ill-bound tresses, and, on festive occasions, shine in all the glories of flowered calico and real horn combs. It is not known whether it was this worthy Mr. Brodhead who was the first to introduce the luxury of glass window-lights, but it is certain that previous to this time such an extravagance was unknown; and there is an incident connected with the first window pane which deserves a place here, and which is recorded in the words of an author who is not more celebrated for his many public virtues, than for his unceasing and incurable exercise of the private vice of punning. After referring to the introduction of this innovation, this gentleman says: “A young urchin who had seen glass spectacles on the noses of his elders, saw this spectacle with astonishment, and running home to his mother exclaimed, ‘O, Ma! there’s a house down here with specs on!” “This,” he adds, “may be considered a very precocious manifestation of the power of generalization in the young Kentuckian.”

Another curious incident of the times will close the record of this year. The notorious Tom Paine had written a book ridiculing the right of Virginia to this State, and urging Congress to take possession of the whole territory. Among the disciples of this absurd production were two Pennsylvanians, named Galloway and Pomeroy. The latter of these came to the falls and produced considerable annoyance to some of the landholders there by the dissemination of his doctrines, which induced others to pay no respect to the titles of their neighbors. This was an exigency which the laws had never contemplated, and although it was everywhere admitted that the man deserved punishment, it was difficult to find a law bearing upon his case. Legal investigation, however, soon drew to light an old law of Virginia which enforced a penalty in tobacco upon “the propagation of false news, to the disturbance of the good people of the colony.” Under this law, in May of the next year, Pomeroy was tried and sentenced to pay 2,000 pounds of tobacco, and had also to give security for his good behavior in the sum of £3,000, pay costs, &c. A similar fate awaited Galloway, who had gone to Lexington and had there advocated these same doctrines. It was impossible for either of these men to procure the amount of tobacco required; and accordingly, when it was hinted to them that they would not be pursued if they left the country, they gladly embraced the offer and departed. And thus perished the effects of Mr. Paine’s wonderful book.

The next year, 1784, does not present in its annals anything of much importance in relation to Louisville. It was at this time that the first convention was held at Danville, where the subject of the separation of Kentucky and its erection into an independent State was first broached. It was not, however, thought advisable by this convention to make any serious movement in this matter until the following year, inasmuch as the people generally had not heard of the proposed separation, or had had no time to debate upon its feasibility. As yet no press had been established in the territory, and oral news was not readily or speedily disseminated through the State. On these accounts no action was had by the convention at this time, but a new convention was appointed for the following May, at which this subject was to be seriously considered.

We find by the report of a traveler in this year, that Louisville contained “63 houses finished, 37 partly finished, 22 raised but not covered, and more than 100 cabins.”

In the year 1785 the convention again met, first on the 23d of May, and afterwards on the 8th of August, to take action in relation to the formation of the new State. An address to Virginia and another to Kentucky, together with resolutions in favor of the proposed separation, were unanimously passed in the earlier of these meetings. These addresses, however, were not deemed strong enough by the third or August convention, and that meeting accordingly changed them to a new and still stronger form of petition or remonstrance, and sent them forward for the action of the parent State. Accordingly in January of 1786, Virginia passed a law allowing independence to Kentucky, on this, among other conditions, that the separation should not take place until Congress should assent thereto, which assent of Congress was not gained until 1791.

In January of this year the county of Nelson was erected out of all that part of Jefferson county south of Salt river.

In the early part of 1785 Gen. Clark, together with Messrs. Lee and Butler, had held a treaty with the Western Indians at Fort McIntosh; but later in the year an Indian council of a hostile character had also been held on the Wabash, and the Indians had annoyed the settlers greatly during the latter part of the year. It was therefore thought advisable to enter into another treaty with the Indians on the Wabash, and accordingly Gen. Clark and Messrs. Butler and Parsons met those tribes at the mouth of the Great Miami in January of 1786. It was with great difficulty that the various tribes could be brought to treat at all, and, but for Gen. Clark’s knowledge of their character, and for the high estimation in which he was held by them, these commissioners would have been murdered outright. Judge Hall, of Cincinnati, has given a glowing and vivid description of this meeting, which is here inserted. After noticing their abrupt and scornful manner of entering the council, he says: “The commissioners, without noticing the disorderly conduct of the other party, or appearing to have discovered their meditated treachery, opened the council in due form. They lighted the peace-pipe, and after drawing a few whiffs, passed it to the chiefs, who received it. Col. Clark then rose to explain the purpose for which the treaty was ordered. With an unembarrassed air, with the tone of one accustomed to command, and an easy assurance of perfect security and self-possession, he stated that the Commissioners had been sent to offer peace to the Shawnees; that the President had no wish to continue the war; he had no resentment to gratify; and, if the red men desired peace, they could have it on reasonable terms. ‘If such be the will of the Shawnees,’ he concluded, ‘let some of their wise men speak.’

“A chief arose, drew up his tall person to its full height, and assuming a haughty attitude, threw his eye contemptuously over the commissioners and their small retinue, as if to measure their insignificance in comparison with his own numerous train, and then stalking to the table, threw upon it two belts of wampum, of different colors—the war and the peace belt.

“‘We come here,’ he exclaimed, ‘to offer you two pieces of wampum; they are of different colors; you know what they mean; you can take which you like!’ and turning upon his heel, he resumed his seat.

“The chiefs drew themselves up, in consciousness of having hurled defiance in the teeth of the white men. They had offered an insult to the renowned leader of the Long Knives, to which they knew it would be hard for him to submit, while they did not suppose he dared resent it. The council-pipe was laid aside. Those fierce wild men gazed intently at Clark. The Americans saw that the crisis had arrived; they could no longer doubt that the Indians understood the advantage they possessed, and were disposed to use it; and a common sense of danger caused each eve to be turned on the leading commissioner. He sat undisturbed and apparently careless until the chief who had thrown the belts upon the table had taken his seat; then with a small cane which he held in his hand, he reached, as if playfully, toward the war belt, entangled the end of the stick in it, drew it towards him, and then with a switch of the cane threw the belt into the midst of the chiefs. The effect was electric. Every man in the council of each party sprang to his feet, the savage with a loud exclamation of astonishment, “Hugh!” the Americans in expectation of a hopeless conflict against overwhelming numbers. Every hand grasped a weapon.

“Clark alone was unawed. The expression of his countenance changed to a ferocious sternness and his eye flashed, but otherwise he was unmoved. A bitter smile was perceptible upon his compressed lips as he gazed upon that savage band, whose hundred eyes were bent fiercely and in horrid exultation upon him as they stood like a pack of wolves at bay thirsting for blood, and ready to rush upon him whenever one bolder than the rest should commence the attack. It was one of those moments of indecision when the slightest weight thrown into either scale will make it preponderate; a moment in which a bold man conversant with the secret springs of human action, may seize upon the minds of all around him and sway them at his will.

“Such a man was the intrepid Virginian. He spoke, and there was no man bold enough to gainsay him; none that could return the fierce glance of his eye. Raising his arm and waving his hand toward the door, he exclaimed, “Dogs, Begone!” The Indians hesitated for a moment, and then rushed tumultuously out of the council-room.” To this a writer of the Encyclopædia Americana adds that the Indians were heard all that night debating in the bushes near the fort; a part of them for war and a part of them for peace. The latter prevailed, and the next morning they came back and sued for peace. All this, however, did not remove the annoyances experienced from the attacks of the more distant Indians. These annoyances were of such a character as to induce the general government to send two companies of military to the Falls, to authorize the raising of militia in Kentucky and the invasion of the hostile territory. In pursuance of the spirit of this authority, if not in direct consonance with it, a body of a thousand men had rendezvous at Louisville, and marched thence in September toward Vincennes. At this point the little army waited, contrary to the advice of Gen. Clark, their commanding officer, for nine days, expecting provisions and ammunition. This delay was fatal. The soldiers became weary, and seeing the frequent inebriety of their general, lost their confidence in him, and refused their obedience. A body of about three hundred, dissatisfied that their wishes in regard to their officers were not attended to, actually returned homeward, regardless of the earnest pleadings and almost the tears of their general; and the rest soon followed them. This expedition was a sad blow to Clark, for it put into the hands of his enemies a powerful weapon against him; and one which they remorselessly used. Had his advice been heeded before the delay was determined upon, he would never have become inebriated or exposed himself in an undignified light to his soldiery, and the expedition might have been successful. Palliated as may be his fault, it cannot be denied that, in this sortie, he was not what he had been. The sun of his military glory had not sunk below the horizon, but it was obscured by clouds whose thick shadows promised long to hide its beams.

The troubles in relation to the navigation of the Mississippi river were now the topics of all absorbing interest in every part of the West. We have not before alluded to these troubles, preferring to connect them entirely with the period of which we are now writing. A brief retrospect of the question will enable the reader readily to understand the subject in dispute and its bearing on the residents on the western waters. In 1781, Spain, having previously declared herself mistress of the Great Mississippi, took possession of the North-West in the name of her king. Mr. Jay, then in Madrid, had received instructions not to insist upon the American claim to this river, if he could not effect a treaty without yielding it. The Spanish Government, during the whole of 1782, was laboring to induce the United States not only to yield the Mississippi, but also to give up a part of her actual possessions in the West; and her pretensions to these asserted rights were upheld by France. In this condition matters rested till 1785, when a representative of the Spanish Government appeared before Congress. Mr. Jay was at once authorized to negociate with him, and these negociations came again before Congress in May 1786; Mr. Jay having asked the guidance of that body in the matter. He showed them the importance of a treaty in commerce with a people so intimately connected with them as was Spain, and explained the difficulty in forming this treaty, owing to the unwillingness of Spain either to yield the river or to decrease her boundary claims. He could see no safer plan than, as a sort of compromise, to yield for a term of twenty-five or thirty years, the navigation of the river below the boundaries of the United States. This plan was vehemently opposed by Southern Congressmen and an attempt was made to take the negociations out of the hands of Mr. Jay altogether. In this attempt they were defeated, and Mr. Jay was not only retained in office, but was authorized to continue his negociations without being bound to insist on the immediate use of the river. The rumor of these movements at the capitol soon reached the West, but in the distorted form which rumor ever employs. Mr. Jay’s position was represented as positive and as having been assumed without reference to Congress. This news created great indignation in the West and led to the first dream of secession. The people felt that if the navigation of the Mississippi was denied them on the one hand, and in case of a quarrel with Spain, the protection of the General Government on the other, secession was inevitable. Either they must conquer Spain or unite with her. And as if to show that they were in earnest in the matter, “a board of field-officers at Vincennes determined to garrison that point, to raise supplies by impressment, and to enlist new troops. Under this determination Spanish property was seized, soldiers were enrolled, and steps were taken to hold a peace-council with the natives; all under the direction of Gen. Clark. Soon after this, Thomas Green wrote from Louisville to the Governor and Legislature of Georgia, which State was involved in the boundary quarrel with Spain, that Spanish property had been seized in the North-West as a hostile measure, and not merely to procure necessaries for the troops, which Clark afterward declared was the case, and added that the General was ready to go down the river with ‘troops sufficient’ to take possession of the lands in dispute, if Georgia would countenance him.” The following extract from another letter written from Louisville, professedly to some one in New England, and probably also written by Green, will serve as additional evidence to prove that the people were seriously deliberating upon their position. It reads thus:

“‘Our situation is as bad as it possibly can be, therefore every exertion to retrieve our circumstances must be manly, eligible and just.

“‘We can raise 20,000 troops this side of the Alleghany and Apalachian Mountains, and the annual increase of them by emigration from other parts is from two to four thousand.

“‘We have taken all the goods belonging to the Spanish merchants at post Vincennes and the Illinois; and are determined they shall not trade up the river, provided they will not let us trade down it. Preparations are now making here (if necessary) to drive the Spaniards from their settlements, at the mouth of the Mississippi. In case we are not countenanced or succored by the United States, (if we need it,) our allegiance will be thrown off and some other power applied to. Great Britain stands ready with open arms to receive and support us. They have already offered to open their resources for our supplies. When once re-united to them, ‘farewell, a long farewell to all your boasted greatness.’ The province of Canada and the inhabitants of these waters, of themselves, in time, will be able to conquer you. You are as ignorant of this country as Great Britain was of America. These are hints which if rightly improved may be of some service; if not, blame yourselves for the neglect.’

“This letter was shown by the bearer of it to several persons at Danville, who caused copies to be taken of it, and enclosed these to the Executive of Virginia. Early in 1787, the Council of this State had action on this subject, condemned Gen. Clark’s conduct, disavowed the powers assumed by him, ordered the prosecution of the persons concerned in the seizure of property, and laid the matter before Congress. It was presented in detail to that body upon the 13th of April, and upon the 24th of that month, it was resolved that the troops of the United States be employed to dispossess the unauthorized intruders who had taken possession of St. Vincents.”[7]

The full details of the Mississippi troubles belong rather to a history of the State or of the United States than to that of a single city. What has already been stated in regard to them has been written to show the feeling that existed on the subject among the earlier residents of the city and of the State, as well as to display the part which was had in these difficulties by the prominent men of Louisville years ago. It would be foreign to the purposes of the present volume to go further into all these details, wherein the celebrated names of Wilkinson, Sebastian, Brown, Innis and Burr, are so involved, wherein so many splendid intellects were led astray from the paths pointed out by honor and patriotism, and sacrificed at the sordid shrine, of love of self and love of gain. Not to leave the unhistorical reader without any knowledge as to the issue of these troubles, it will however be necessary to point out as briefly as may be, the ultimate results of all the scheming, plotting and unlawful machinations against established government which for so long disturbed and disgraced Kentucky.

Passing over, then, all the intermediate space, we come to the fact that in 1795, a treaty was concluded with Spain by which not only the right to navigate the Mississippi was conceded to the United States, but a right to deposit at New Orleans was also yielded them. This, in effect, was all that Kentucky needed. This grant of a right to deposit, however, was only guaranteed by the treaty for three years; but with the proviso that, should the grant be withdrawn at the end of the three years, some other place than New Orleans should be afforded for the same purpose, near the mouth of the river. In 1802 this right was withdrawn by the Spanish Intendant and no other place of deposit allowed. Spain had evidently violated her treaty, and the whole West was again thrown into a state of fearful excitement and commotion. Nor was this at all lessened when it became known that Louisiana had been ceded to France, and that it was now in possession of the dreaded Napoleon. Mr. Monroe was immediately dispatched to France to have an interview with the First Consul on this subject. Napoleon, then upon the eve of a rupture with England, plainly foresaw that it would be impossible for him to retain possession of so distant and isolated a colony as Louisiana while Great Britain was mistress of the seas. His sagacity had therefore determined him to get rid of so unprofitable a place as this. And much to the surprise of Mr. Monroe, “when he expected simply to negotiate for a place of deposite at the mouth of the river, he was informed that for the trifling sum of fifteen millions, he could purchase a magnificent empire. No time was lost in closing this extraordinary sale, as Bonaparte evidently apprehended that Louisiana would be taken by the British fleet within six months after hostilities commenced. And thus the first great annexation of territory to the United States was accomplished.”[8] And thus ended a long series of difficulties which had, in their course, blotted the escutcheon of Kentucky and tempted so many of her noblest intellects to forget their greatness in vain attempts at personal aggrandizement.

The following extracts from the records of the court during this year will not give a very favorable idea of the high degree of enlightenment among our ancestors in 1786. On the 21st day of October in this year, it is recorded that “negro Tom, a slave, the property of Robert Daniel,” was condemned to death for stealing “two and three-fourth yards of cambric, and some ribbon and thread, the property of Jas. Patten.” This theft, small as it now appears, if estimated in the currency of the times would produce an astonishing sum, as will appear by the following inventory rendered to the court of the property of a deceased person:

These were the times when the price of whisky was fixed by law at $30 the pint, and hotel-keepers were allowed and expected to charge $12 for a breakfast and $6 for a bed. Payment however was always expected in the depreciated continental money, then almost the only currency.

In the latter part of this year, the legislature of Virginia again passed an act giving three years more time to the purchasers of lots in Louisville to complete their titles by building houses in consonance with the terms of the original purchase. The act offers as a reason for this extension, “the frequent incursions of the Indians and the difficulty of procuring materials for building.”

In the next year—1787—a new feature was exhibited to the people of Kentucky. Mr. John Bradford established at Lexington a weekly newspaper, printed at first on a demy sheet and called the Kentucky Gazette. The politicians of the State had now an opportunity to address themselves to the people in a new and easy way, and they fully availed themselves of it. But the establishment of a newspaper was not the only proof of advancement among the Kentuckians, though it seemed the herald of progress; for, in one year after the first issue of the Gazette, a grammar school was opened, an almanac published, and a dancing school established, all in Lexington; while still a year later (1789) the first brick house was built in Louisville. This structure was erected by Mr. Kaye, an ancestor of our well known citizen and former Mayor, on Market street, between Fifth and Sixth streets; the second brick building in Louisville was erected by Mr. Eastin, on the North side of Main, below the corner of Fifth street; and the third by Mr. Reed at the North Western corner of Main and Sixth streets. It was about this time that the present city of Cincinnati was laid out. It was first called Losantiville, a name which is thus fancifully derived. Ville—the town—anti—opposite—os—the mouth—L—of Licking. This name was invented by a Mr. Filson, whose philological acuteness deserves immortality.

The three years given to the owners of lots in Louisville by the Act of ’86, being now expired, the legislature again passed an act granting yet other three years for the same purpose; and at the same time appointed eleven new trustees for the town. The number of trustees was now so large that it was neither agreeable to the citizens, nor did it facilitate the business of the town. Accordingly the very next meeting of the Assembly (in 1790) passed a new act with the following preamble:—“Whereas, It is represented to this present General Assembly that inconveniences have arisen on account of the powers given to the Trustees and Commissioners of the Town of Louisville, in the County of Jefferson, not being sufficiently defined, for remedy whereof, &c.”—This Act deposed from office all the former Trustees of the town, and in lieu of them, appointed the following persons: “J. F. Moore, Abraham Hite, Abner M. Donne, Basil Prather and David Standiford, gentlemen;” as sole Trustees, with power to sell and convey lots, levy taxes, improve the town by means of taxes so levied, and fill vacancies in their own body by election. Under their regime the records of the council show quite an improvement in the prosperity of the embryo city.

Early in April of the year now spoken of, Louisville received an accession to the number of her citizens in the person of the renowned Major Quirey. This man’s immense muscular power; his daring and activity have made him a scarcely less remarkable personage than was the celebrated Peter Francisco, of Virginia. Arriving here at a period when physical power was far more appreciated, and held in far higher reverence than mental capacity, Quirey soon gained a strong hold on the affections of the people around him. He was a native of Pennsylvania, but married at nineteen years of age, and soon thereafter removed to Kentucky. He was six feet and two inches in height, and weighed 250 pounds; he had no inclination to embonpoint but was muscular and robust. The palm of his enormous hand would easily have served a modern fine lady for a writing-desk.—Physiologists may feel inclined to doubt the truth of the assertion, but it is nevertheless confidently believed that his breast was a solid plate of bone, no appearance of the usual separation of the ribs being discernable, even after his death. Like all the men of his day, Quirey was a good hater alike of Indians and of cowards. A proof of this latter aversion occurred as he was descending the Ohio to Louisville. The Indians had recently been very successful in their battles with the emigrant boats, and were emboldened to attack all within their reach. Accordingly, Quirey’s boat, containing beside himself and his family, only a single individual, whose name is not remembered, came in for its share of the hostility. A large party of Indians made an attack upon them somewhere above the present site of Maysville. Quirey fought bravely, but the other man became dreadfully alarmed, and running into the boat, concealed himself among the cargo. Quirey, still standing upon his boat, received the guns as they were loaded by his wife, and handed to him, and fired on either not missing his comrade or supposing him dead. After the engagement, in which, despite the fearful odds, Quirey was victorious, they found their trembling and cowardly companion who was slowly sneaking from his place of concealment. With an impulse quick as thought, Quirey seized him with one hand around the waist, and bearing him above his head, would in another moment have dashed him into the waves, but the tears and entreaties of Mrs. Quirey saved him for the time. With so cowardly a disposition, however, it might have spared the poor wretch much agony had he perished then; for Quirey set him ashore in the forest near Limestone, pointing him the way to the fort and there left him, surrounded on every side by objects to him of terror, there to “do or die.” History is silent as to his fate.

After reaching Louisville, Quirey soon established his reputation for strength in a way that none dared gainsay it. One Peter Smith, who had long held undisputed sway as the most expert fighter and the strongest man in Louisville, and who was withal what is more pertinently than politely called a bully, the terror of his whole neighborhood, having heard that a very large and strong man had arrived from Pennsylvania, determined, as he said, “either to whip Quirey, or if Quirey proved too much for him to leave the country.” He accordingly found his man, and proposed a trial at a fisty-cuff. This Quirey declined, urging that it would be better for them to turn their strength against the common enemy, and professing that he was willing to admit Smith to be his superior. Finding that this only made his antagonist the more determined, Quirey proposed a trial of skill in lifting or in some athletic game. Smith, however, was not to be thus appeased, but stripping the upper part of his body to the skin and tightening his belt, he advanced urging Quirey to get ready for the fight. Quirey replied that if he would have a fight, he was already prepared for it—and as Smith continued to advance upon him, Quirey, without moving from his steps, dealt him a single blow with open hand upon the ear. Smith fell several paces off with the blood gushing from eyes, nose and ears. But the trial did not end here, for on Smith’s recovering from the blow, he protested that it was an unlucky and accidental hit, and demanded a new trial. Quirey again tried to avoid the quarrel, but seeing that a fight was inevitable, he told Smith that if he made a new attack upon him, he would be severely punished. Smith continued to advance toward him, and as he came within reach Quirey dealt him at the same instant two terrible blows, one with the hand and the other with the foot. Smith fell as if dead, was taken up and carried to Patton’s Tavern where he lay six weeks. At the end of that time, being sufficiently recovered, he kept his promise, leaving the State never to return.

Major Quirey was a valuable officer and a prompt and efficient soldier. During the war, he enlisted about 6000 men. Soon after his appointment as Captain in the 17th Regiment, U. S. A., an incident occurred which came near consigning him to an inglorious death. He had as pets a pair of large bears, and having occasion one day to pass near them he was suddenly seized from behind by the male bear and drawn under him, the animal sinking his nails into the cavity of the body. In the scuffle, however, he managed to get hold of the tongue of the bear, and drawing it across its teeth, forced the animal to bite off its own tongue. This feat he performed with one hand, while with the other he relieved the bear of one of his eyes. The pain he thus occasioned enabled him to extricate himself from his formidable foe, not, however, without detriment to himself. The Surgeon who dressed his wounds estimated his loss of flesh from off the left hip at nearly 12 pounds![9] On recovering from his wounds, Quirey returned to service and continued in office till the disbanding of his Regiment in 1815. In two years afterward he died. His widow whose life is full of romantic incident, survived him many years, having died only two or three years ago. She is still remembered with regret by many who have so lately listened to her well-told recollections of early days in Louisville.

In July of this year, still 1790, the ninth and last Kentucky Convention met. It will be recollected that the first Convention had been held in 1784, and since that time, each returning year had seemed only to add to the difficulties experienced by Kentucky in attaining an honorable and independent position in the confederacy. This last Convention, however, saw an end to all the troubles experienced by its predecessors. The terms offered by Virginia were agreed to, and the 1st June 1792, was determined as the date of Independence. During the month of December succeeding the action of this Convention, Gen. Washington brought before Congress the subject of the admission of Kentucky as a State, and on the 14th of February in the next year, 1791, the long sought and anxiously hoped-for boon was granted. The ensuing December was chosen as the date of election for the framers of a Constitution for the New State, and in April 1792, that instrument was prepared, and Kentucky took her position among her sister States. Nor was this the only good which time had wrought for the new State. For the next year, 1793, brought with it the last incursions of the Indians into their once loved hunting-ground. Their twenty years’ struggle was over. Their best and bravest blood had been poured in vain; the force of an irresistible destiny was against them; stern experience had taught them that right was not might, and, the contest ended, they quietly yielded to the all-conquering hand of the white man the soil that his axe, his plow, and his gun had redeemed from them forever.

The succeeding years, till 1800, however rich they may be in material for the historian of Kentucky, afford little that bears directly upon the subject before us. The Indians having ceased to be an aggressive foe, it was thought necessary that the Whites should, in their turn, provoke hostility, and accordingly, several expeditions were made against them. The Indian fights of Scott, St. Clair, Wayne, and others, belong to this period.

In 1796 the first paper-mill was built in Kentucky. It was situated near Georgetown, and is said to have been a very productive investment. It is here alluded to as a promising mark of social progress.

With the next year, 1797, we get the first clearly established estimate of the town of Louisville. In the records of the Trustees, the first list of taxes occurs. These were assessed on the 3d day of July, “on all who reside within the limits of the half-acre lots,” and one Dr. Hall, was appointed to fill the double office of assessor and collector. The following is his list of assessments:

And even this sum Hall found it very difficult to collect, for, nearly two years afterward he reports a list of delinquents amounting to £12. That the progress of the town was rapid and healthy from the first year of Kentucky Independence, is everywhere demonstrated. And no greater proof of this is needed than the fact that while the assessment of 1797 amounted to scarcely more than $150, that of 1809, 12 years later, reached the sum of $991. The town was now clearly and firmly established, it had within itself the elements of prosperity and it was seen that it must one day become great. Its history is less identified with that of the State, and it comes now to claim consideration on its own merit.

It was during this year that the office of Falls Pilot was created by law, in consonance with the following preamble to the act: “Whereas great inconveniences have been experienced and many boats lost in attempting to pass the rapids of the Ohio for want of a Pilot, and from persons offering their services to strangers to act as Pilots, by no means qualified for this business,” &c. The office was appointed by the Jefferson County Court, and the rate of pilotage fixed by the act was two dollars for each boat, while all other persons were forbidden to attempt to perform this service under a penalty of ten dollars.

During the next year—1798—the Assembly passed an act allowing the formation of fire companies by any number of persons exceeding forty, who should record their names and subscriptions in the County Court. These companies were allowed to form their own regulations, impose fines to the amount of £5, and collect the same by suit before a single magistrate, which fines were to be applied to the purposes of their institution.

Previous to this time there had existed no impediment to the clandestine importation of goods by the way of Louisville; New Orleans being in possession of a foreign nation. In 1799, therefore, Congress passed an act by which Louisville was declared to be a port of entry, and a collector was established at this point.

The history of Louisville has thus been brought up to a period when it occupied a deservedly prominent position among western towns. Nature had fitted it to take the first rank, and its rapid improvement demonstrated its power and capacity to assume that position. Thirty years before the time of which we are now writing, the compass of the white man for the first time broke the soil of Kentucky; the spot whereon this great city now rests was a trackless wilderness. The smooth waters of the broad Ohio mirrored in their bosom only the dark branches of the waving forest. The axe of the woodman had not yet awakened the echoes of the grove. The deer, the bear and the buffalo by day, and the wolf and the panther by night were the only inhabitants of the spot. Less than thirty years elapsed and the wand of the magician had changed the scene. The forest had been felled, the trowel of the builder had been wielded, the streets and alleys of a civilized town occupied the spot where the deer had sported in frolic play, and hundreds of merry voices shouted where only the howl of the wolf had been heard. That a civilized town with a population of eight hundred souls, governed by wise laws, possessing the usages of society, enjoying the luxuries of life and moving onward in its daily walk with the calm stability of its fellows, the growth of a century; that such a town should exist where less than thirty years before the beast and the savage had held undisputed sway, is surely an evidence of progress to which no other country in the world can find a parallel. It is a fact before which the wild romance of the Slave of Lamp almost ceases to be fiction.

Louisville having now arrived at an importance of its own, separate and apart from the State, the remainder of this history will be more strictly confined to matters of a purely local character. And beginning a new chapter with a new century, the rest of these annals will be as rapidly and strictly detailed as justice to the claims of each event will allow.

CHAPTER IV.

The opening of a new century found Louisville with a population of 800 souls, with power to elect her own Trustees, with a revenue arising from her own taxes, and in the enjoyment of all the social and political privileges which were possessed by any of the towns within the Western country. Early in the next year the Legislature of the State, after granting power to the Trustees of Louisville to make deeds and conveyances of the town lots and providing abundantly for the levying and collecting of taxes, proceeded to exempt the citizens from working on roads out of the town, except the road leading from Louisville to the lower landing, and ordered the appointment of a street Surveyor whose duty it should be from time to time to call upon the inhabitants of the town “to meet together on a certain day at a certain place for the purpose of working upon the streets.” And every person failing to obey such call was liable to a fine of six shillings for every such failure. The same Act also set aside the sum of twenty-five pounds (being part of the annual tax) to be appropriated toward the building of a market house on the public ground in said town, under the superintendence of the board of Trustees; and as if still further to show its confidence in the capacity of the town to manage its own growing interests, it also placed the harbor at the mouth of Beargrass entirely under the direction of the Trustees.

Reference to the old books of the town show the prices of half acre lots on the principal streets at this time to have ranged from seven to fourteen hundred dollars.

The original plan and survey of the town having been lost or destroyed, and property being rapidly increasing in value, the Legislature found it necessary during the second year of the new century to order a new survey and plat to be made out. It also changed the term of office of the Trustees from one to two years, and gave them the power to fill vacancies in their body by an election among themselves. It also repealed an act which, although it had been the subject of repeated legislation, had proved a dead letter. This was the act in reference to the forfeiture of lots for want of improvements, which has been before quoted. The Legislature of this year, seeing the futility of further action in regard to this matter very properly ordered the act to be altogether repealed in all the towns under their jurisdiction, and ordered the Trustees of the several towns to make deeds to all purchasers of lots who could produce them receipts for the purchase money of their several properties.

The next year brought with it a new act of assembly ordering a repeal of the act of 1800 in relation to the building of a Market house on the public grounds in Louisville. The reason of this repeal consisted in the fact that public grounds were nowhere to be found, these valuable adjuncts to the town having been already disposed of by the sagacious governors of the place. Their unwise and illegal action in this matter has heretofore occupied the attention of the reader. Their “worshipful wisdoms” thinking only of to-day and careless of a future, were guilty of frequent excessions of their duty, which are still felt and still regretted. A striking instance of this is exemplified in the single fact that a half acre lot on Main street, near Fourth, was disposed of by their order at public auction for a horse valued at twenty dollars. This, however, may cease to be thought so flagrant a breach of trust when it is compared with another sale which occurred at or about the same time, whereto neither of the parties occupied an official capacity and wherein the article sold, though not generally classed as real estate, is supposed to possess great value to the owner. A worthy citizen of Louisville about this period was in the habit of entertaining a great deal of company; and among others there came to his hospitable roof one who professed to be a Methodist preacher, but who proved to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing; for, after enjoying all the comforts his host’s kindness could afford him for several weeks, he started off one fine summer’s morning, taking with him, probably through mistake or inadvertence, his friend’s wife! The host missing this article of domestic furniture upon his return home, and suspecting whither it might have gone, put boot in stirrup and dashed off in pursuit. He soon overtook the soi-disant Reverend Gentleman and demanded his property. His right to take his own was not denied, but his Reverend friend proposed that as he fancied the subject matter of dispute, if his worthy host would withdraw his claim and leave him in peaceable possession, he would give him right, title and interest to and in the mare on which he rode. To this, after some slight hesitation, the husband consented, on condition that the bridle and saddle of the mare were added to his friend’s offer. This trifling difference was readily yielded by the opposite party, and for many years after this good old man was seen pacing through the streets, mounted upon his mare, the two ambling along far more quietly than he and his former partner had ever done.

Returning, however to the requisitions of the act, we find that, repealing so much of the ordinance as related to the location of the market house, it enjoins upon the Trustees “to fix upon some proper place, such as shall seem most convenient to the inhabitants of the town, and there to erect a suitable market house.”

It was also during this year that the first of a series of smaller towns, attracted by the growing position of Louisville and hoping soon to rival it, began to spring up. Jeffersonville, situated nearly opposite Louisville, on a high bank of the Ohio, and in the State of Indiana, was laid out in November of this year. Its progress until recently has not been rapid, but it has gradually gained ground until within the last seven or eight years, during which it has come to be a very useful and valuable suburb to the city. More will be said of its history in a proper place.

Within the next year we come to the earliest organization of the town of Shippingport. This place, now so utterly decayed, once promised not only to rival but to surpass Louisville. The site occupied by it belonged to Campbell’s division of the two thousand acres mentioned in the earlier pages of this history, and was by him sold during this year to a Mr. Berthoud. Upon coming into the possession of this latter gentleman it was surveyed, a plan of the town drawn and the lots advertised for sale. Its progress however was not rapid until 1806, when the Messrs. Terascons purchased the greater part of the lots embraced in the survey, and to their enterprizing endeavors did the town owe its rise. Its present importance is so trifling compared with its past greatness, and the probabilities of its future eminence among towns are so small that we shall probably not have occasion again to refer to it; and as its brief history belongs rather to this than to a later era it will be as well to close this account of it in the words of one who wrote when it was at the apex of its fame.

“This important place,” says Dr. McMurtrie in his sketches of Louisville published in 1819; “is situated two miles below Louisville, immediately at the foot of the rapids, and is built upon the beautiful plain or bottom which commences at the mouth of Beargrass creek, through which, under the brow of the second bank, the contemplated canal will in all probability be cut.”[10] The town originally consisted of forty-five acres, but it has since received considerable additions. The lots are 75 by 144 feet, the average price of which at present (1819) is from forty to fifty dollars per foot, according to the advantages of its situation. The streets are all laid out at right angles, those that run parallel to the river, or nearly so, are eight in number and vary from 30 to 90 feet in width. These are all intersected by twelve feet allies, running parallel to them, and by fifteen cross streets at right angles, each sixty feet wide.

The population of Shippingport may be estimated at 600 souls, including strangers. Some taste is already perceptible in the construction of their houses, many of which are neatly built and ornamented with galleries, in which, of a Sunday, are displayed all the beauty of the place. It is, in fact, the Bois de Boulogne of Louisville, it being the resort of all classes on high days and holydays.

“At these times, it exhibits a spectacle at once novel and interesting. The number of steamboats in the port, each bearing one or two flags, the throng of horses, carriages, and gigs, and the contented appearance of a crowd of pedestrians, all arrayed in their “Sunday’s best” produce an effect it would be impossible to describe.”

The reason of the sudden decay of this once flourishing place is found in the fact that its utility as a point of embarkation and debarkation for goods, ceased with the building of the Canal. Previous to this time it had been, during three parts of the year, the head of the navigation of the lower Ohio. Even as early as this, however, the necessity for overcoming the impediment to navigation occasioned by the falls was recognized and acted upon; and in the year 1804, a Canal Company was chartered; but nothing was done beyond surveys until long after this time. The subject of the Canal, however, was one of absorbing interest with the citizens of Louisville from this time forward, and various plans were proposed, adopted, rejected and discussed, until the incorporation of the present Canal Company in 1825. The movement toward removing the obstruction in the river in any form had its opponents, who urged that the sole commercial advantage to be possessed by the city consisted in the necessity for numerous commission and forwarding houses to receive and reship the vast quantities of merchandise which were to pass up and down this great artery. Among the many plans suggested for overcoming the break in the navigation of the river, one of the earliest and most strongly urged was one which has yet its warm and earnest adherents,—this is the construction of a Canal on the Indiana shore,—a plan which the citizens of Louisville have long since ceased to look upon except with aversion, but which the residents in a sister city are still urging with a violence which proves, contemptuously as they may speak of Louisville, that their fears of her as a rival city are strong enough to induce them to wish to cripple, if not to destroy her. Former surveys have all long since proved the Kentucky shore to be best suited to the purposes of a Canal, and the inadequacy of the present construction to the growing trade of the river does not seem to demonstrate the necessity for still further obstructing its course, even during high water, by an additional ditch on the other bank.

Another of the plans suggested at this time, proposed the blasting of a channel which would unite all the water into one stream at low stages. The bed of the river was also surveyed to ascertain the expediency of making a slack water navigation by means of one or more dams or locks. All of these and various others were however merged in the construction of the present Canal, which will be noticed at the appropriate period of this history.

With the next year comes another enactment of Assembly with the following amusing preamble:—“Whereas it is represented to the present General Assembly that a number of persons residing in the town of Louisville, are in the habit of raising, and are now possessed of large numbers of Swine, to the great injury of the citizens generally; and that there are a number of ponds of water in said town, which are nuisances, and injurious to the health of the city and the prosperity of the town: Be it therefore enacted—That the present Trustees of the said town, and their successors, or a majority of them, shall have full power and authority to remove the same &c.” The latter of these nuisances has disappeared under the efforts of the “said successors,” but even the distinguished Mr. Dickens will bear us witness that the law against the former remains to this day a dead letter.

Another of the provisions of this same act invests the Trustees with power to levy a sum not exceeding eight hundred dollars for the purpose of repairing the streets, and in consideration thereof exempts those citizens from working on the streets, who shall pay an equivalent of 75 cents in money. It also gives the Trustees power to make regulations and by-laws for the proper preservation of order, to appoint a tax collector &c., and extends the privilege of voting for Trustees to the residents of the ten and twenty acre lots, thereby increasing the purlieus of the town to the present site of Chestnut street.

In speaking of the navigation and commerce of this period, Dr. McMurtrie tells us that in 1806 “six keel boats and two barges; the one of thirty tons, belonging to Reed, of Cincinnati; the other of forty, owned by Instone, of Frankfort; sufficed for the carrying trade of Louisville and Shippingport.” The rapid and almost magical increase of trade in less than fifty years after this will at once suggest itself to every reader.

Mr. T. Cumming, the first European traveler who passed through Louisville, of whose record we have any knowledge, thus states his impressions of the town during this year. He says:—“I had thought Cincinnati one of the most beautiful towns I had seen in America, but Louisville, which is almost as large, equals it in beauty, and in the opinion of many exceeds it. It was considered as unhealthy, which impeded its progress until three or four years ago, when, probably in consequence of the country being more opened, bilious complaints ceased to be so frequent, and it is now considered by the inhabitants as healthy as any town on the river. There is a Market House, where is a good market every Wednesday and Saturday. Great retail business is done here, and much produce shipped to New Orleans.”

In the year 1807, we get the first mention of a newspaper published in Louisville. We are not able however to give any account of its origin, ownership or history. It is known only from an enactment of Assembly requiring certain laws to be published in its columns. It was called the “Farmer’s Library.” Similar mention is also made during the next year of a paper called “The Louisville Gazette.” Whether it succeeded the “Farmer’s Library,” as the acts of Assembly would seem to show, or was cotemporary with it is not known; a bare mention of its name is all that is left to posterity. In America, the presence of the newspaper is ever the mark of peace, and quiet, and comfort. What to those of other nations is the luxury of affluent ease is to the American the earliest of necessities. The moment the rifle is laid aside, the newspaper is taken up. It is incident upon his every conquest, whether of man or of nature. The click of his rifle is succeeded by that of his types, and the roar of his cannon has hardly ceased till we hear the roll of his press.

Ten years having now elapsed since a statistical table of the town has been examined it may not be uninteresting to furnish another list of the taxable property within its limits. It will be recollected that the entire list of 1797 amounted to £31 15s 6d. Let us now turn to the list for the present year as shown by the assessor’s books, and mark the rapid increase of these ten years.

Without pausing to remark further on this comparative statement, we pass on to the next event worthy of a place in this brief chronicle. This was the erection of a Theater in Louisville, which occurred early in 1808. We have no means of ascertaining who were the original projectors of this enterprise, but we have the authority of Dr. McMurtrie for stating that until 1818, it was “but little better than a barn.” At that time, however, it fell into the hands of the celebrated Mr. Drake, under whose auspices was established the golden era of the Drama in the West. Not only did this gentleman please the taste and gratify the judgment of his audience, but he absolutely created a high standard of taste and judgment among them, the effects of which are still perceptible here. It is chiefly to the education received under his management that the critical talent of our Theatrical audiences of to-day, so well known and so generally acknowledged by the profession, is owing. Many whose names are now prominent in histrionic art took the initiatory steps in their career under Mr. Drake’s regime here. This Theater stood upon the North side of Jefferson street, between Third and Fourth, and was destroyed by fire in 1843. For a long time previous to its destruction, however, it had ceased to be the resort of any but the most profligate members of society. Even before the destruction of the City Theater, Mr. Coleman undertook the erection of a new dramatic temple at the South-east corner of Green and Fourth streets, but from some cause did not proceed further than the erection of the outer walls. This unfinished building was afterwards purchased by Mr. Bates of Cincinnati, and was by him opened for the first time early in the year 1846, since when it has been regularly opened during a part of every year, and performances creditable alike to the judgement of its manager, and the taste of its audiences have been regularly given.

CHAPTER V.

The series of details, mostly of an uninteresting and dry nature, which were so hastily passed over in the last chapter seem to have been but the precursors to events of a character far more important to the interests of the city and far more agreeable to the reader. Before we approach, however, the one great event which opened a new theater of action to the city, and developed resources before undreamed of—the steam navigation of the Ohio. It will be necessary, to preserve the order in which this history has been written, to stop to notice two or three lesser matters.

Louisville, having become, from her peculiar position as a half-way house between the North and the South, the resort of numbers of strangers, it became necessary establish a police for the security of persons and property. This was done in 1810 by the appointment of two Watchmen, John Ferguson and Edward Dowler, at a salary of $250 per annum; and the records of the time do not show that these persons held their office as a sinecure.

The rogues having been thus placed under supervision, it became necessary to have a proper place for the administration of justice to them. In pursuance of this idea a Court House was erected in the centre of a large square now bounded by Fifth, Seventh, Market and Jefferson Streets. This building was made of brick after a plan drawn by John Gwathmey and was finished in 1811. The precise site of the house is now occupied by a part of the present Jail. It fronted on Sixth Street, and consisted of a main building with two wings attached. In front of the main building was a lofty Ionic portico, supported by four columns. Long before this building was removed, these columns, which were built of wood, gave convincing and thoroughly American proof that they had been consigned to other uses than those intended by their projectors. Notwithstanding their great size, the attacks made upon them by the pen-knives of the attacheés of the court had actually severed one of them, and the wood within convenient reach of a man’s hand which remained in the other three, would hardly have served for one day’s good whittling. This edifice was, in its earlier days, the handsomest of its kind in the western country. It was pulled down in 1836, in order to make room for the new structure undertaken, but never completed, in 1837.

This sublime monument of the city’s folly, was begun on a scale of unexampled magnificence, and had it been possible to complete it, would have been one of the most beautiful buildings in the West. It still stands an almost mouldering ruin, its half-finished grandeur constantly recalling the parable of the foolish man who “began to build and was not able to finish.”

We come now to notice an event of vital importance, not only to Louisville, but to the whole West. This was the commencement of Steam Navigation on the western rivers. In October of 1811, Fulton’s steamboat called the “New Orleans,” intended to run from the port of that name to Natchez, left Pittsburg for its point of destination. At this time there were but two steamboats on this continent; these were the North River and The Clermont, and they were occupied on the Hudson River. The New Orleans on her first trip took neither freight nor passengers. Her inmates “were Mr. Roosevelt, an associate of Fulton, with his wife and family, Mr. Baker, the engineer, Andrew Jack, the pilot, and six hands with a few domestics.” Her landing at Louisville is thus described in Latrobe’s Rambler in America.

“Late at night on the fourth day after quitting Pittsburg, they arrived in safety at Louisville, having been but seventy hours descending upwards of seven hundred miles. The novel appearance of the vessel, and the fearful rapidity with which it made its passage over the broad reaches of the river, excited a mixture of terror and surprise among many of the settlers on the banks, whom the rumor of such an invention had never reached; and it is related that on the unexpected arrival of the boat before Louisville, in the course of a fine still moonlight night, the extraordinary sound which filled the air as the pent-up steam was suffered to escape from the valves on rounding to, produced a general alarm, and multitudes in the town rose from their beds to ascertain the cause. I have heard that the general impression among the Kentuckians was, that the comet had fallen into the Ohio; but this does not rest upon the same foundation as the other facts which I lay before you, and which, I may at once say, I had directly from the lips of the parties themselves.”

The water on the falls did not allow the Orleans to pass on to Natchez and she consequently made use of her time of detention by making several trips to and from Cincinnati. Toward the last of November she was enabled to pass the rapids, and after having weathered out the earthquakes, reached Natchez about the 1st of January, 1812. This boat was finally wrecked near Baton Rouge, where she struck on her upward passage from New Orleans.

From this event we may date the prosperity of Louisville as a fixed fact. At the head of ascending and the foot of descending navigation, all the wealth of the western country must pass through her hands. Such advantages as were here presented could not go unheeded. It became only necessary for the people to be convinced of the efficacy of steamboat navigation, and the opportunities held out to the capitalist by Louisville must be seen and embraced.

But as if to counterbalance the dawning of this great good, there came with it a great evil; for it was in December of this year that the first of a series of terrible and violent earthquakes was felt at Louisville; these carried consternation to the hearts of all her citizens; and during the four months of their almost constant recurrance there was little either of leisure or inclination for political progress. The first of the shocks was felt on the 16th of December at 2 h. 15 m. in the morning. Mr. Jared Brookes says of it: “It seems as if the surface of the earth was afloat and set in motion by a slight application of immense power, but when this regularity is broken by a sudden cross shove, all order is destroyed, and a boiling action is produced, during the continuance of which the degree of violence is greatest, and the scene most dreadful; houses and other objects oscillate largely, irregularly and in different directions. A great noise is produced by the agitation of all the loose matter in town, but no other sound is heard; the general consternation is great, and the damage done considerable; gable ends, parapets, and chimneys of many houses are thrown down.” The whole duration of this shock from the earliest tremor to the last oscillation was about four minutes. This shock was succeeded during the same day by two others of almost equal power. It is related that when it was felt, several gentlemen were amusing themselves with cards when some one rushed in crying, “Gentlemen, how can you be engaged in this way when the world is so near its end?” The card-table was immediately deserted for the street, where from the vibratory motion the very stars seemed toppling to a fall. “What a pity,” philosophized one of the party, “that so beautiful a world should be thus destroyed!” “Almost every one of them,” says a historian of the incident, “believed that mother Earth, as she heaved and struggled, was in her last agony.”

During the prevalence of the earthquakes, it was customary to suspend some object so as to act as a pendulum in all the rooms and by the degree of its motion to determine the probable amount of danger. If the pendulum began to vibrate freely, the house was instantly deserted. Those who inhabited the loftier and statelier mansions were, at least for the time being, free from the envy of their humble neighbors, with whom they would then have freely exchanged tenements. The possession of a princely edifice would then have been a source of regret rather than of pride or of congratulation. It is said, that unlike the great calamities of other times, this one had a good effect upon the public morals. The reason of this may probably be found in the fact that while this was a source of constant terror and alarm, it was yet not of a character to produce that despair which leads men to seek to drown all thoughts of a future in the reckless pursuit of pleasure or of forgetfulness.

Mr. Jared Brooks who preserved a faithful scientific account of these earthquakes refers to that of the 7th of February, 1812, as the most violent endured at any period during their continuance. It occurred at 3 h. 15 m. in the morning and, as this gentleman’s account says, “was preceded by frequent slight motions for several minutes; duration of great violence at least 4 minutes, then gradually moderated by exertions of lessening strength, but continued a constant motion more than two hours; then followed a succession of distinct tremors or jarrings at short intervals until 10 h. A. M., when, for a few seconds, a shock of some degree of severity, after which frequent jarrings and slight tremors during the day, once, at least in ten minutes. At 8 h. 10 m. P. M. a shock of second-rate violence, and during some minutes two others at equal periods, connected by continual tremor of considerable severity; the last shock was violent in the first degree, but of too short duration to do much injury. At 10 h. 10 m. P. M, after frequent considerable motions, the shock comes on violent in the second degree, strengthens to tremendous, holds at that about seven seconds, then trembles away, severe about five minutes; frequent tremors follow, and a shock of third-rate violence. The action then ceases for a time.” With one more extract from Mr. Brooks, we shall conclude this account of the celebrated earthquakes of 1811. This is a table showing the number and relative value of all the earthquakes experienced here. It is preceded by a lucid explanation of the degrees of violence referred to in the table, and shows at a glance the number and intensity of the shocks.

“First-Rate.—Most tremendous, so as to threaten the destruction of the town, and which would soon effect it, should the action continue with the same degree of violence; buildings oscillate largely and irregularly, and grind against each other; the walls split and begin to yield; chimneys, parapets and gable ends break in various directions and topple to the ground.

“Second-Rate.—Less violent, but very severe.

“Third-Rate.—Moderate, but alarming to people generally.

“Fourth-Rate.—Perceptible to the feeling of those who are still and not subject to other motion or sort of jarring, that may resemble this.

“Sixth-Rate.—Although often causing a strange sort of sensation, absence, and sometimes gidiness, the motion is not to be ascertained positively; but by the vibrators or other objects placed for that purpose.

TABLE.

The good effect which, as before mentioned, was produced upon the morals of the town by this succession of dangers does not seem to have been of permanent value if we may credit a writer in the Bedford Pa. Gazette, in the year 1814, who makes himself very merry over what he is pleased to term the “devout paroxisms” of the good citizens of this place, as will appear by the following communication.

He says: “At Louisville, in the State of Kentucky, a town about four times as large as Bedford, they have no church. When the earthquake gave them the first shock, they grew very devout in one night; and on the next day with long faces, they subscribed a thousand dollars to build a house of public worship. Thus the matter rested until the second shock came, when another devout paroxism produced another thousand dollars. It rested again till a third earthquake and devout fit produced another subscription to the same amount. There was no more of the matter. The earthquake did not return, and the Louisvillians concluded the devil would not send for them for a few years more, and in the mean time determined to be merry. They immediately built a theater, which cost them seven thousand dollars, and employed a company of actors, the offscourings of maratime city theaters. To this company they gave about five hundred dollars per week, till at length the actors, instead of raising the curtain, broke through it and broke each other’s heads with sticks, and the heads of some of the auditors who interfered. The earthquakes have lately begun to shake Louisville again, but whether they laugh or pray I have not heard.”

The Western Courier, published at Louisville, copies this article, with some stringent remarks upon its contents; and attributes the authorship of it to some actor whose efforts in his profession had not been duly honored by the people whom he villifies. Who is in the right in this matter it is now impossible to say; but it is certain that the author of the article in question is guilty of an anachronism, for it will be remembered that the theater was built previous to the commencement of the earthquakes. It is, however, unquestionably true that the theater was built several years before a church edifice of any kind was attempted.

The newspaper from which this article was copied was commenced here in October or November of 1810, by Nicholas Clarke. It was published weekly at three dollars per annum, and contained for the most part little else than news of the wars, acts of Assembly and of Congress, and advertisements. In 1814, Mann Butler joined Mr. Clarke in the editorship of the paper, but did not continue long in his chair. The Louisville Correspondent was issued at about the same time, and edited by Col. E. C. Barry. It was discontinued in 1817. It is believed that there are no files of it in existence now.

Reference to all the early files of newspapers published at this day, will show how gradual and yet how certain was the progress of steamboat navigation on the Ohio. The arrival of every boat was carefully noted and always accompanied with a great flourish of trumpets and a renewed eulogy on the wonders of the new invention. Much credit is due to Capt. H. M. Shreve, lately of St. Louis, for his indefatigable and successful endeavors to improve as well as to enlarge this prominent branch of commerce. As is well known, Fulton and Livingston held a patent for the entire right to navigate all the rivers in the United Stages for a certain number of years. But Mr. Shreve, seeing the injustice of this grant and doubting its legality, openly defied it; and finally, after much effort and not a little pecuniary loss, succeeded in 1816 in removing the grant and throwing open the navigation of the public highways to all. It will not be uninteresting to the reader, while upon this fruitful topic, to glance at a list of all the steamboats employed upon the western waters until 1819. This list is copied from Dr. McMurtrie, whose data is not always implicitly reliable. It has however been corrected as far as was practicable at this remote period. The present tense, whenever employed, is meant to refer to the year 1819.

STEAMBOATS EMPLOYED ON THE WESTERN WATERS FROM 1812 TO 1819.

1st. The Orleans—the first boat built at Pittsburg, owned by and constructed under the superintendence of Mr. Fulton. Sailed from Pittsburg in October, 1811, and arrived at her destination, Natchez, about the 1st January, 1812. She ran between New Orleans and Natchez about two years, making her voyages to average seventeen days; was wrecked near Baton Rouge, where she sunk on the upward bound passage; 400 tons burthen.

2d. The Comet—owned by Samuel Smith; built at Pittsburg by Daniel French; stern-wheel and vibrating cylinder; on French’s patent granted in 1809. The Comet made a voyage to Louisville in the summer of 1813; and descended to New Orleans in the Spring of 1814; made two voyages to Natchez, and was sold; the engine put up in a cotton gin; 45 tons burthen.

3d. The Vesuvius—built at Pittsburg by Fulton, and owned by a company of gentlemen belonging to New York and New Orleans. Sailed from New Orleans in the Spring of 1814, commanded by Captain Frank Ogden. She was then employed some months between New Orleans and Natchez, under the command of Captain Clemmont, who was succeeded by Captain John DeHart; shortly after she took fire, near the city of New Orleans and burned to the water’s edge; having a valuable cargo on board. She was afterwards raised and built upon at New Orleans. She has since been in the Louisville trade, and has lately been sold to a company at Natchez; 390 tons burthen.

4th. The Enterprise—built at Brownsville, Pennsylvania, on the Monongahela, by Daniel French, on his patent, and owned by a company at that place. She made two voyages to Louisville in the summer of 1814, under the command of Captain J. Gregg. On the first of December she took in a cargo of ordinance stores at Pittsburg, and sailed for New Orleans, commanded by Captain H. M. Shreve, and arrived at New Orleans on the 14th of the same month. She made one voyage to the Gulf of Mexico as a cartel; one voyage to the rapids of Red River with troops; nine voyages to Natchez; set out for Pittsburgh on the 6th May, and arrived at Shippingport on the 30th, (25 days out,) being the first steamboat that ever arrived at that port from New Orleans. From thence she proceeded on to Pittsburgh, and the command was given to Captain D. Wooley, who lost her about twelve months after in Rock harbor at Shippingport; 45 tons burthen.

5th. Etna—built at Pittsburg, and owned by the same company as the Vesuvius; sailed from Pittsburg for New Orleans in March, 1815, under the command of Captain A. Gale, and arrived in April following; continued in the Natchez trade. Was then commanded by Captain R. De Hart, who made six voyages in her to Louisville; and is now commanded by Captain A. Gale in the same trade.

6th. The Dispatch—built at Brownsville, on French’s patent, and owned by the same company as the Enterprise. She made several voyages from Pittsburg to Louisville, and one from New Orleans to Shippingport, where she now lies a wreck, her engine out; was commanded by Captain J. Gregg; 25 tons burthen.

7th and 8th. The Buffalo, 300 tons; and James Monroe, 90 tons; built at Pittsburg by Latrobe, for a company at New York, but failed in finishing them. They were sold at Sheriff’s sale, and fell into the hands of Mr. Whiting, and finished by him with engines; both dull sailers.

9th. Washington—a two-decker; built at Wheeling, Virginia; constructed and partly owned by Captain H. M. Shreve; her engine was made at Brownsville, under the immediate direction of Captain Shreve. Her boilers are on the upper deck, being the first boat on that plan, and is a valuable improvement by Captain Shreve, which is now generally in use. The Washington crossed the falls in September, 1816, commanded by Captain Shreve, went to New Orleans, and returned to Louisville in the winter. In the month of March, 1817, she left Shippingport a second time, proceeded to New Orleans, and returned to Shippingport, being absent but 45 days. This was the trip that convinced the despairing public that steamboat navigation would succeed on the western waters. She has since been running with similar success in the same trade; 400 tons burthen.

10th. The Franklin—built at Pittsburg, by Messrs. Shires and Cromwell; engine built by George Evans; sailed from Pittsburg in December 1816; was sold at New Orleans, and has been in the Louisville and St. Louis trade since that time; she was sunk in the Mississippi near St. Genevieve a few months since, under the command of Captain Reed, on her way to St. Louis; 150 tons burthen.

11th. The Oliver Evans; (now the Constitution,) 75 tons; was built at Pittsburg by Mr. George Evans; engine his patent. She left Pittsburg in December, 1816, for New Orleans; in 1817 she burst one of her boilers, off Coupee, by which eleven men lost their lives, principally passengers. Has done but little since. Is now owned by Mr. George Sutton and others of Pittsburg; 75 tons burthen.

12th. The Harriet—built at Pittsburg; owned and constructed by Mr. Armstrong, of Williamsport, Pennsylvania. She sailed from Pittsburg, October, 1816, for New Orleans, and crossed the falls in March, 1817; made one voyage to New Orleans, and has since run between that place and the Muscle Shoals; 40 tons burthen.

13th. The Pike—a small boat built by Mr. Prentiss, of Henderson, Kentucky; run some time from Louisville to St. Louis; from thence in the Red River trade. Was lost on a sawyer, March, 1818; 25 tons burthen.

14th. The Kentucky—built at Frankfort, Kentucky, and owned by Hanson and Boswell; in the Louisville trade; 80 tons burthen.

15th. The Gov. Shelby—built at Louisville, Kentucky, by Messrs. Gray, Gwathmey and Gretsinger; Bolton and Watt’s engine. Now performing very successfully in the Louisville trade; 120 tons burthen.

16th. The New Orleans—built at Pittsburg in 1817, by Fulton and Livingston; in the Natchez trade. Near Baton Rouge, she was sunk and raised again, and sunk at New Orleans in Feb. 1819, about two months after her sinking near Baton Rouge; 300 tons burthen.

17th. The George Madison—built at Pittsburg in 1818, by Messrs. Voorhies, Mitchell, Rodgers, and Todd, of Frankfort, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade: 200 tons burthen.

18th. The Ohio—built at New Albany by Messrs. Shreve and Blair; in the Louisville trade; 443 tons burthen.

19th. The Napoleon—built at Shippingport in 1818, by Messrs. Shreve, Miller, and Breckenridge, of Louisville; in the Louisville trade; 332 tons burthen.

20th. The Volcano—built at New Albany, by Messrs. John and Robertson De Hart, in 1808; in the Louisville trade; 250 tons burthen.

21st. The Gen. Jackson—built at Pittsburg in 1818, and owned by Messrs. R. Whiting of Pittsburg, and Gen. Carroll of Tennessee; in the Nashville trade; 200 tons burthen.

22d. The Eagle—built at Cincinnati in 1818, owned by Messrs. James Berthoud and Son, of Shippingport, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 70 tons burthen.

23d. The Hecla—built at Cincinnati in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Honore and Barbaroux, of Louisville, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 70 tons burthen.

24th. The Henderson—built at Cincinnati in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Bowens, of Henderson, Kentucky; in the Henderson and Louisville trade; 85 tons burthen.

25th. The Johnson—built at Wheeling in 1818, by George White, and owned by Messrs. J. and R. Johnson, of Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 90 tons burthen.

26th. The Cincinnati—built at Cincinnati in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Peniwit and Burns, of Cincinnati, and Messrs. Paxton and Co. of New Albany; in the Louisville trade; 120 tons burthen.

27th. The Exchange—built at Louisville in 1818, and owned by David L. Ward, of Jefferson county, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 200 tons burthen.

28th. The Louisiana—built at New Orleans in 1818, and owned by Mr. Duplissa of New Orleans; in the Natchez trade; 45 tons burthen.

29th. The James Ross—built at Pittsburg in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Whiting and Stackpole, of Pittsburg; in the Louisville trade. This boat has lately made a trip from New Orleans to Shippingport, in sixteen days and a half, having lost sixty one hours and eight minutes in discharging cargo on the way. Had on board 200 tons cargo; 330 tons burthen.

30th. The Frankfort—built at Pittsburg in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Voorhies and Mitchell of Frankfort, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 320 tons burthen.

31st. The Tamerlane—built at Pittsburg in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Boggs and Co., of New York; in the Louisville trade; 320 tons burthen.

32d. The Cedar Branch—built in 1818, and owned at Maysville, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 250 tons burthen.

33d. The Experiment—built at Cincinnati in 1818, and owned at that place; 40 tons burthen.

34th The St Louis—built at Shippingport in 1818, and owned by Messrs. Hewes, Douglass, Johnson and others; in the St. Louis trade; 220 tons burthen.

35th. The Vesta—built at Cincinnati in 1817, and owned by Captain Jenkins of that place; in the Louisville trade; 100 tons burthen.

36th. The Rifleman—built at Louisville in 1819, and owned by Messrs. Butler and Barners, of Russelville, Kentucky; in the Louisville trade; 250 tons burthen.

37th. The Alabama—a small boat, built on Lake Ponchetrane in 1818; in the Red River trade.

38th. The Rising States—built at Pittsburg in 1819, and owned by W. F. Peterson and Co., of Louisville; in the Louisville trade.

39th. The General Pike—built at Cincinnati in 1819, intended to ply between Louisville, Cincinnati, and Maysville, as a packet, and owned by a company in Cincinnati.

40th. The Independence—owned by Captain Nelson, and intended to ply between Louisville and St. Louis.

41st. The United States—built at Jeffersonville, Indiana, in 1819; owned by Hart and others, and has two separate engines, made in England. She is doubtless the finest merchant steamboat in the universe, drawing but little water, and capable of carrying 3000 bales of cotton; in the Louisville trade; 700 tons burthen.

The interest of this subject and the quantity of material which presses upon us in regard to it have for awhile led us to forget the proper order of our history, to which it will be necessary now to revert. Commencing then with 1811 we have first to record the erection of a Catholic Chapel by the Rev. Mr. Badin. This building was situated upon a lot given by Mr. Tarascon, near the present corner of Eleventh and Main streets. It was built in the Gothic style, and was a small edifice. The lot upon which it stood was used as the cemetery of the church, and many years afterward in digging out Eleventh street; skulls, bones, and portions of bodies were thrown up from this graveyard.

With the opening of the year 1812, was commenced the first Bank ever instituted in Louisville. This was the branch of the Bank of Kentucky. Previous to this, there was an unincorporated establishment named the Louisville Bank, whose capital of about 75,000 dollars was thrown into this Bank, with an addition of 25,000 dollars, making for the first incorporated Bank a capital of 100,000 dollars. This bank was situated on the North side of Main street, near the corner of Fifth, and was under the direction of Thomas Prather,[11] President, and John Bustard, Cashier. An additional impetus was also given to the commercial prosperity of the town by the establishment, during this year, of an iron foundry by Mr. Paul Skidmore. The attention of this foundry was directed to casting gudgeons for water and horse mills, dog and smoothing irons, and odd oven lids. From this small beginning arose that branch of industry now so large and of so vital importance to the city. A brief sketch of the progress of foundries since that time may be interesting to the reader. Mr. Skidmore was succeeded by Joshua Headington, who continued the same description of business with little if any improvement until 1817, when he was in his turn succeeded by Prentiss and Bakewell, who undertook the building of Steam engines, getting a part of the machinery from Philadelphia, and a part from Pittsburg, but they did not succeed very satisfactorily until 1825, when they built some engines for small boats which performed respectably. These gentlemen dissolved their connection about 1826. Mr. Prentiss continued the business a short time alone, and then sold one half of his establishment to Jacob Keffer, who was to superintend the foundry. In 1831, this foundry ceased operations, and Messrs. D. L. Beatty, John Curry, and Jacob Beckwith built a foundry and carried on successfully the casting and steam engine business. These gentlemen erected the first air furnace which ever proved of any value; built the first regular boring-mill, and substituted the blowing cylinder instead of the common wood and leather bellows. There are now six foundries for building steam-engines and machinery of all kinds in full operation, beside six extensive Stove Foundries.