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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1395b0f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #62708 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62708) diff --git a/old/62708-0.txt b/old/62708-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5e09140..0000000 --- a/old/62708-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,989 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Canal Reminiscences, by George W. Bagby - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Canal Reminiscences - Recollections of Travel in the Old Days on the James River - & Kanawha Canal - -Author: George W. Bagby - -Release Date: July 20, 2020 [EBook #62708] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CANAL REMINISCENCES *** - - - - -Produced by David E. Brown and The Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - CANAL - REMINISCENCES: - - Recollections of Travel in the Old Days - ON THE - James River & Kanawha Canal. - - BY - GEORGE W. BAGBY. - - - RICHMOND: - WEST, JOHNSTON & CO., PUBLISHERS. - 1879. - - - - - _Copyright Secured._ - - - _Printed by - Whittet & Shepperson, - Richmond, Va._ - - - - -Preface. - - -My first thought was to print these reminiscences in a newspaper. But -our papers are unable to pay for contributions. It was not so in the -former days. Well do I remember when the _Dispatch_ cheerfully gave -me its dollars, not merely for stories and sketches, but for trifles -like the “_Weekly Rekord uv amewsments_,” which I then kept, and which -seemed to please our good people of Richmond, who were then doing so -well in business that they were easily pleased. And truly in those -times they were a liberal, open-hearted set. So would they be now were -they able. - -Will we ever see good times and plenty of money again? I think so. -And yet often I get very blue, apprehending still greater business -troubles, culminating in I know not what of civil disaster. It is -touching to me, going around, as I have had to do a great deal of -late, among our business men, to see their sad faces, and yet their -evident anxiety in the midst of worries and cares, to help one who -is even worse off than themselves. We have good stock here--men who -would honor any city in the land, and who make up a community in -which it is a pleasure to live. Here and there you find one, two, or -three close-fisted fellows, who dodge you for fear you will ask them -for something. That is to their credit, for it shows that they have -feeling and a sense of shame. And again you meet positive brutes, who -are not merely stingy and mean, but ill-mannered and under-bred to -boot. But these serve as foils to set off their better brethren to more -advantage; and I, for one, am not the man to abuse stingy people. They -have one magnificent trait to counterpoise their littleness--they pay -their debts, and pay them promptly. So, take it all in all, Richmond is -about as good a place to live in as a man will find on this globe, as -I have learned by playing book-canvasser,--an excellent school for the -study of men. - -But shall we see better times? Why, yes, surely. They have begun -already in Troy, N. Y., the papers say. And I verily believe the -railway, which is to take the place of the canal, will do more than -all things else to bring back work for all and money for all of us -in our fair city of Richmond. Let us at least hope so. And with that -hope in view, I trust that these reminiscences of an obsolescent -mode of travel--which may have been delightful, but certainly was -not rapid--will give a few moments of pleasure to the friends of the -publishers and of the writer. - - G. W. B. - - - - -Canal Reminiscences. - - -Among my earliest recollections is a trip from Cumberland County to -Lynchburg, in 1835, or thereabouts. As the stage approached Glover’s -tavern in Appomattox county, sounds as of a cannonade aroused my -childish curiosity to a high pitch. I had been reading Parley’s History -of America, and this must be the noise of actual battle. Yes; the war -against the hateful Britishers must have broken out again. Would the -stage carry us within range of the cannon balls? Yes, and presently -the red-coats would come swarming out of the woods. And--and--Gen. -Washington was dead; I was certain of that; what would become of us? -I was terribly excited, but afraid to ask questions. Perhaps I was -scared. Would they kill an unarmed boy, sitting peaceably in a stage -coach? Of course they would; Britishers will do anything! Then they -will have to shoot a couple of men first;--and I squeezed still closer -between them. - -My relief and my disappointment were equally great, when a casual -remark unfolded the fact that the noise which so excited me was only -the “blasting of rock on the Jeems and Kanawha Canell.” What was -“blasting of rock?” - -What was a “canell?” and, above all, what manner of thing was a “Jeems -and Kanawha Canell?” Was it alive? - -I think it was; more alive than it has ever been since, except for the -first few years after it was opened. - -Those were the “good old days” of batteaux,--picturesque craft that -charmed my young eyes more than all the gondolas of Venice would do -now. True, they consumed a week in getting from Lynchburg to Richmond, -and ten days in returning against the stream, but what of that? Time -was abundant in those days. It was made for slaves, and we had the -slaves. A batteau on the water was more than a match for the best four -or six horse bell-team that ever rolled over the red clay of Bedford, -brindle dog and tar-bucket included. - -Fleets of these batteaux used to be moored on the river bank near where -the depot of the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad now stands; and many -years after the “Jeems and Kanawha” was finished, one of them used to -haunt the mouth of Blackwater creek above the toll-bridge, a relic of -departed glory. For if ever man gloried in his calling,--the negro -batteau-man was that man. His was a hardy calling, demanding skill, -courage and strength in a high degree. I can see him now striding -the plank that ran along the gunwale to afford him footing, his long -iron-shod pole trailing in the water behind him. Now he turns, and -after one or two ineffectual efforts to get his pole fixed in the rocky -bottom of the river, secures his purchase, adjusts the upper part of -the pole to the pad at his shoulder, bends to his task, and the long, -but not ungraceful bark mounts the rapids like a sea-bird breasting the -storm. His companion on the other side plies the pole with equal ardor, -and between the two the boat bravely surmounts every obstacle, be it -rocks, rapids, quicksands, hammocks, what not. A third negro at the -stern held the mighty oar that served as a rudder. A stalwart, jolly, -courageous set they were, plying the pole all day, hauling in to shore -at night under the friendly shade of a mighty sycamore, to rest, to -eat, to play the banjo, and to snatch a few hours of profound, blissful -sleep. - -The up-cargo, consisting of sacks of salt, bags of coffee, barrels -of sugar, molasses and whiskey, afforded good pickings. These sturdy -fellows lived well, I promise you, and if they stole a little, why, -what was their petty thieving compared to the enormous pillage of the -modern sugar refiner and the crooked-whiskey distiller? They lived -well. Their cook’s galley was a little dirt thrown between the ribs -of the boat at the stern, with an awning on occasion to keep off the -rain, and what they didn’t eat wasn’t worth eating. Fish of the very -best, both salt and fresh, chickens, eggs, milk and the invincible, -never-satisfying ash-cake and fried bacon. I see the frying-pan, I -smell the meat, the fish, the Rio coffee!--I want the batteau back -again, aye! and the brave, light-hearted slave to boot. What did -he know about the State debt? There was no State debt to speak of. -Greenbacks? Bless, you! the Farmers Bank of Virginia was living and -breathing, and its money was good enough for a king. Readjustment, -funding bill, tax-receivable coupons--where were all these worries -then? I think if we had known they were coming, we would have stuck -to the batteaux and never dammed the river. Why, shad used to run to -Lynchburg! The world was merry, butter-milk was abundant; Lynchburg a -lad, Richmond a mere youth, and the great “Jeems and Kanawha canell” -was going to--oh! it was going to do everything. - -This was forty years ago and more, mark you. - -In 1838, I made my first trip to Richmond. What visions of grandeur -filled my youthful imagination! That eventually I should get to be a -man seemed probable, but that I should ever be big enough to live, -actually live, in the vast metropolis, was beyond my dreams. For I -believed fully that men were proportioned to the size of the cities -they lived in. I had seen a man named Hatcher from Cartersville, -who was near about the size of the average man in Lynchburg, but as -I had never seen Cartersville, I concluded, naturally enough, that -Cartersville must be equal in population. Which may be the fact, for I -have never yet seen Cartersville, though I have been to Warminster, and -once came near passing through Bent-Creek. - -I went by stage. - -It took two days to make the trip, yet no one complained, although -there were many Methodist ministers aboard. Bro. Lafferty had not -been born. I thought it simply glorious. There was an unnatural -preponderance of preacher to boy,--nine of preacher to one of boy. That -boy did not take a leading part in the conversation. He looked out -of the window, and thought much about Richmond. And what a wonderful -world it was! So many trees, such nice rocks, and pretty ruts in the -red clay; such glorious taverns, and men with red noses; such splendid -horses, a fresh team every ten miles, and an elegant smell of leather, -proceeding from the coach, prevailing everywhere as we bowled merrily -along. And then the stage horn. Let me not speak of it, lest Thomas and -his orchestra hang their heads for very shame. I wish somebody would -tell me where we stopped the first night, for I have quite forgotten. -Any how, it was on the left-hand side coming down, and I rather think -on the brow of a little hill. I know we got up mighty soon the next -morning. - -We drew up at the Eagle hotel in Richmond. Here again words, and time -too, fail me. All the cities on earth packed into one wouldn’t look as -big and fine to me now as Main street did then. If things shrink so in -the brief space of a life-time, what would be the general appearance, -say of Petersburg, if one should live a million or so of years? This -is an interesting question, which you may discuss with yourself, dear -reader. - -Going northward, I remained a year or two, and on my return the -“canell” was finished. I had seen bigger places than Richmond, but had -yet to have my first experience of canal travelling. The packet-landing -at the foot of Eighth street presented a scene of great activity. -Passengers on foot and in vehicles continued to arrive up to the moment -of starting. I took a peep at the cabin, wondering much how all the -passengers were to be accommodated for the night, saw how nicely the -baggage was stored away on deck, admired the smart waiters, and picked -up a deal of information generally. I became acquainted with the names -of Edmond & Davenport in Richmond, and Boyd, Edmond & Davenport in -Lynchburg, the owners of the packet-line, and thought to myself, “What -immensely rich men they must be! Why, these boats cost ten times as -much as a stage-coach, and I am told they have them by the dozen.” - -At last we were off, slowly pushed along under the bridge on Seventh -street; then the horses were hitched; then slowly along till we passed -the crowd of boats near the city, until at length, with a lively jerk -as the horses fell into a trot, away we went, the cut-water throwing -up the spray as we rounded the Penitentiary hill, and the passengers -lingering on deck to get a last look at the fair city of Richmond, -lighted by the pale rays of the setting sun. - -As the shadows deepened, everybody went below. There was always a -crowd in those days, but it was a crowd for the most part of our best -people, and no one minded it. I was little, and it took little room -to accommodate me. Everything seemed as cozy and comfortable as heart -could wish. I brought to the table,--an excellent one it was,--a school -boy’s appetite, sharpened by travel, and thought it was “just splendid.” - -Supper over, the men went on deck to smoke, while the ladies busied -themselves with draughts or backgammon, with conversation or with -books. But not for long. The curtains which separated the female from -the male department were soon drawn, in order that the steward and -his aids might make ready the berths. These were three deep, “lower,” -“middle” and “upper;” and great was the desire on the part of the men -not to be consigned to the “upper.” Being light as a cork, I rose -naturally to the top, clambering thither by the leathern straps with -the agility of a monkey, and enjoying as best I might the trampling -overhead whenever we approached a lock. I didn’t mind this much, but -when the fellow who had snubbed the boat jumped down about four feet, -right on my head as it were, it was pretty severe. Still I slept the -sleep of youth. We all went to bed early. A few lingered, talking in -low tones; and way-passengers, in case there was a crowd, were dumped -upon mattresses, placed on the dining tables. - -The lamp shed a dim light over the sleepers, and all went well -till some one--and there always was some one--began to snore. -_Sn-a-a-aw!_--_aw-aw-poof!_ They would turn uneasily and try to compose -themselves to slumber again. No use. _Sn-a-a-aw_--_poof!_ “D---- that -fellow! Chunk him in the ribs, somebody, and make him turn over. Is -this thing to go on forever? Gentlemen, are you going to stand this all -night? If you are, I am not. I am going to get up and dress. Who is he -anyhow? No gentleman would or could snore in that way.” - -After a while silence would be restored, and all would drop off to -sleep again, except the little fellow in the upper berth, who lying -there would listen to the _trahn-ahn-ahn-ahn_ of the packet-horn as -we drew nigh the locks. How mournfully it sounded in the night! what -a doleful thing it is at best, and how different from the stage-horn -with its cheery, ringing notes! The difference in the horns marks the -difference in the two eras of travel; not that the canal period is -doleful--I would not say that, but it is less bright than the period of -the stage-coach. - -To this day you have only to say within my hearing _trahn-ahn-ahn_, -to bring back the canal epoch. I can see the whole thing down to the -snubbing post with its deep grooves which the heavy rope had worn. -Indeed, I think I could snub a boat myself with very little practice, -if the man on deck would say “_hup!_” to the horses at the proper time. - -We turned out early in the morning, and had precious little room for -dressing. But that was no hardship to me, who had just emerged from a -big boarding school dormitory. Still, I must say, being now a grown -and oldish man, that I would not like to live and sleep and dress for -twenty or thirty years in the cabin of a canal-packet. The ceremony -of ablution was performed in a primitive fashion. There were the tin -basins, the big tin dipper with the long wooden handle. I feel it -vibrating in the water now, and the water a little muddy generally; -and there were the towels, a big one on a roller, and the little ones -in a pile, and all of them wet. These were discomforts, it is true, -but, pshaw! one good, big, long, deep draught of pure, fresh morning -air--one glimpse of the roseate flush above the wooded hills of the -James, one look at the dew besprent bushes and vines along the canal -bank--one sweet caress of dear mother nature in her morning robes, made -ample compensation for them all. Breakfast was soon served, and all the -more enjoyed in consequence of an hour’s fasting on deck; the sun came -out in all his splendor; the day was fairly set in, and with it there -was abundant leisure to enjoy the scenery, that grew more and more -captivating as we rose, lock after lock, into the rock-bound eminences -of the upper James. This scenery I will not attempt to describe, -for time has sadly, dimmed it in my recollection. The wealth of the -lowlands, and the upland beauty must be seen as I have seen them, in -the day of their prime, to be enjoyed. - -The perfect cultivation, the abundance, the elegance, the ducal -splendor, one might almost say, of the great estates that lay along -the canal in the old days have passed away in a great measure. Here -were gentlemen, not merely refined and educated, fitted to display a -royal hospitality and to devote their leisure to the study of the art -and practice of government, but they were great and greatly successful -farmers as well. The land teemed with all manner of products, cereals, -fruits, what not! negroes by the hundreds and the thousands, under wise -direction, gentle but firm control, plied the hoe to good purpose. -There was enough and to spare for all--to spare? aye! to bestow with -glad and lavish hospitality. A mighty change has been wrought. What -that change is in all of its effects mine eyes have happily been spared -the seeing; but well I remember--I can never forget--how from time to -time the boat would stop at one of these estates, and the planter, his -wife, his daughters, and the guests that were going home with him, -would be met by those who had remained behind, and how joyous the -greetings were! It was a bright and happy scene, and it continually -repeated itself as we went onward. - -In fine summer weather, the passengers, male and female, stayed most of -the time on deck, where there was a great deal to interest, and naught -to mar the happiness, except the oft-repeated warning, “_braidge!_” -“_low braidge!_” No well-regulated packet-hand was ever allowed to say -plain “bridge;” that was an etymological crime in canal ethics. For the -men, this on-deck existence was especially delightful; it is _such_ -a comfort to spit plump into the water without the trouble of feeling -around with your head, in the midst of a political discussion, for the -spittoon. - -As for me, I often went below, to devour Dickens’s earlier novels, -which were then appearing in rapid succession. But, drawn by the charm -of the scenery, I would often drop my book and go back on deck again. -There was an islet in the river--where, exactly, I cannot tell--which -had a beauty of its own for me, because from the moment I first saw it, -my purpose was to make it the scene of a romance, when I got to be a -great big man, old enough to write for the papers. There is a point at -which the passengers would get off, and taking a near cut across the -hills, would stretch their legs with a mile or two of walking. It was -unmanly, I held, to miss that. Apropos of scenery, I must not forget -the haunted house near Manchester, which was pointed out soon after we -left Richmond, and filled me with awe; for though I said I did not -believe in ghosts, I did. The ruined mill, a mile or two further on, -was always an object of melancholy interest to me; and of all the locks -from Lynchburg down, the Three-Mile Locks pleased me most. It is a -pretty place, as every one will own on seeing it. It was so clean and -green, and white and thrifty-looking. To me it was simply beautiful. -I wanted to live there; I ought to have lived there. I was built for -a lock-keeper--have that exact moral and mental shape. Ah! to own -your own negro, who would do all the drudgery of opening the gates. -Occasionally you would go through the form of putting your shoulder -to the huge wooden levers, if that is what they call them, by which -the gates are opened; to own your own negro and live and die calmly -at a lock! What more could the soul ask? I do think that the finest -picture extant of peace and contentment--a little abnormal, perhaps, -in the position of the animal--is that of a sick mule looking out of -the window of a canal freight-boat. And that you could see every day -from the porch of your cottage, if you lived at a lock, owned your own -negro, and there was no great rush of business on the canal, (and there -seldom was) on the “Jeems and Kanawhy,” as old Capt. Sam Wyatt always -called it, leaving out the word “canal,” for that was understood. Yes, -one ought to live as a pure and resigned lock-keeper, if one would be -blest, really blest. - -Now that I am on the back track, let me add that, however bold and -picturesque the cliffs and bluffs near Lynchburg and beyond, there was -nothing from one end the canal to the other to compare with the first -sight of Richmond, when, rounding a corner not far from Hollywood, it -burst full upon the vision, its capitol, its spires, its happy homes, -flushed with the red glow of evening. And what it looked to be, it was. -Its interior, far from belieing its exterior, surpassed it. The world -over, there is no lovelier site for a city; and the world over there -was no city that quite equalled it in the charm of its hospitality, -its refinement, its intelligence, its cordial welcome to strangers. Few -of its inhabitants were very rich, fewer still were very poor. But I -must not dwell on this. Beautiful city! beautiful city! you may grow to -be as populous as London, and sure no one wishes you greater prosperity -than I, but grow as you may, you can never be happier than you were in -the days whereof I speak. How your picture comes back to me, softened -by time, glorified by all the tender, glowing tints of memory. Around -you now is the added glory of history, a defence almost unrivalled in -the annals of warfare; but for me there is something even brighter -than historic fame, a hue derived only from the heaven of memory. In -my childhood, when all things were beautified by the unclouded light -of “the young soul wandering here in nature,” I saw you in your youth, -full of hope, full of promise, full of all those gracious influences -which made your State greatest among all her sisters, and which seemed -concentrated in yourself. Be your maturity what it may, it can never be -brighter than this. - -To return to the boat. All the scenery in the world--rocks that -Salvator would love to paint, and skies that Claude could never -limn--all the facilities for spitting that earth affords, avail not to -keep a Virginian away from a julep on a hot summer day. From time to -time he would descend from the deck of the packet and refresh himself. -The bar was small, but vigorous and healthy. I was then in the lemonade -stage of boyhood, and it was not until many years afterwards that I -rose through porterees and claret-punches to the sublimity of the -sherry cobbler, and discovered that the packet bar supplied genuine -Havana cigars at fourpence-ha’penny. Why, eggs were but sixpence a -dozen on the canal bank, and the national debt wouldn’t have filled -a tea-cup. Internal revenue was unknown; the coupons receivable for -taxes inconceivable, and forcible readjustment a thing undreamt of in -Virginian philosophy. Mr. Mallock’s pregnant question, “Is life worth -living?” was answered very satisfactorily, methought, as I watched -the Virginians at their juleps: “Gentlemen, your very good health;” -“Colonel, my respects to you;” “My regards, Judge. When shall I see you -again at my house? Can’t you stop now and stay a little while, if it -is only a week or two?” “Sam,” (to the bar-keeper,) “duplicate these -drinks.” - -How they smacked their lips; how hot the talk on politics became; and -how pernicious this example of drinking in public was to the boy who -looked on! Oh! yes; and if you expect your son to go through life -without bad examples set him by his elders in a thousand ways, you must -take him to another sphere. Still, the fewer bad examples the better, -and you, at least, need not set them. - -Travelling always with my father, who was a merchant, it was natural -that I should become acquainted with merchants. But I remember very few -of them. Mr. Daniel H. London, who was a character, and Mr. Fleming -James, who often visited his estate in Roanoke, and was more of a -character than London, I recall quite vividly. I remember, too, Mr. -Francis B. Deane, who was always talking about Mobjack Bay, and who -was yet to build the Langhorne Foundry in Lynchburg. I thought if I -could just see Mobjack Bay, I would be happy. According to Mr. Deane, -and I agreed with him, there ought by this time to have been a great -city on Mobjack Bay. I saw Mobjack Bay last summer, and was happy. -Any man who goes to Gloucester will be happy. More marked than all of -these characters was Major Yancey, of Buckingham, “the wheel-horse of -Democracy,” he was called; Tim. Rives, of Prince George, whose face, -some said, resembled the inside of a gunlock, being the war-horse. -Major Y.’s stout figure, florid face, and animated, forcible manner, -come back with some distinctness; and there are other forms, but they -are merely outlines barely discernible. So pass away men who, in their -day, were names and powers--shadows gone into shadow-land, leaving but -a dim print upon a few brains, which in time will soon flit away. - -Arrived in Lynchburg, the effect of the canal was soon seen in the -array of freight boats, the activity and bustle at the packet landing. -New names and new faces, from the canal region of New York, most -likely, were seen and heard. I became acquainted with the family of -Capt. Huntley, who commanded one of the boats, and was for some years -quite intimate with his pretty daughters, Lizzie, Harriet and Emma. -Capt. H. lived on Church street, next door to the Reformed, or as it -was then called, the Radical Methodist Church, and nearly opposite to -Mr. Peleg Seabury. He was for a time connected in some way with the -Exchange hotel, but removed with his family to Cincinnati, since when -I have never but once heard of them. Where are they all, I wonder? -Then, there was a Mr. Watson, who lived with Boyd, Edmond & Davenport, -married first a Miss ----, and afterwards, Mrs. Christian, went into -the tobacco business in Brooklyn, then disappeared, leaving no trace, -not the slightest. Then there was a rare fellow, Charles Buckley, who -lived in the same store with Watson, had a fine voice, and without a -particle of religion in the ordinary sense, loved dearly to sing at -revivals. I went with him; we took back seats, and sang with great -fervor. This was at night. Besides Captain Huntley, I remember among -the captains of a later date, Captain Jack Yeatman; and at a date -still later his brother, Captain C. E. Yeatman, both of whom are -still living. There was still another captain whose name was Love---- -something, a very handsome man; and these are all. - -In 1849, having graduated in Philadelphia, I made one of my last -through-trips on the canal, the happy owner of a diploma in a green -tin case, and the utterly miserable possessor of a dyspepsia which -threatened my life. I enjoyed the night on deck, sick as I was. The -owl’s “long hoot,” the “plaintive cry of the whippoorwill;” the -melody--for it is by association a melody, which the Greeks have but -travestied with their _brek-ke-ex_, _ko-ex_--of the frogs, the mingled -hum of insect life, the “stilly sound” of inanimate nature, the soft -respiration of sleeping earth, and above all, the ineffable glory of -the stars. Oh! heaven of heavens, into which the sick boy, lying alone -on deck, then looked, has thy charm fled, too, with so many other -charms? Have thirty years of suffering, of thought, of book-reading, -brought only the unconsoling knowledge, that yonder twinkling sparks -of far-off fire are not lamps that light the portals of the palace of -the King and Father, but suns like our sun, surrounded by earths full -of woe and doubt like our own; and that heaven, if heaven there be, -is not in the sky; not in space, vast as it is; not in time, endless -though it be--where then? “Near thee, in thy heart!” Who feels this, -who will say this of himself? Away thou gray-haired, sunken-cheeked -sceptic, away! Come back to me, come back to me, wan youth; there -on that deck, with the treasure of thy faith, thy trust in men, thy -worship of womankind, thy hope, that sickness could not chill, in the -sweet possibilities of life. Come back to me!--’Tis a vain cry. The -youth lies there on the packet’s deck, looking upward to the stars, and -he will not return. - -The trip in 1849 was a dreary one until there came aboard a dear lady -friend of mine who had recently been married. I had not had a good -honest talk with a girl for eighteen solid--I think I had better -say long, (we always say long when speaking of the war)--“fo’ long -years!”--I have heard it a thousand times--for eighteen long months, -and you may imagine how I enjoyed the conversation with my friend. She -wasn’t very pretty, and her husband was a Louisa man; but her talk, -full of good heart and good sense, put new life into me. One other -through trip, the very last, I made in 1851. On my return in 1853, I -went by rail as far as Farmville, and thence by stage to Lynchburg; so -that, for purposes of through travel, the canal lasted, one may say, -only ten or a dozen years. And now the canal, after a fair and costly -trial, is to give place to the rail, and I, in common with the great -body of Virginians, am heartily glad of it. It has served its purpose -well enough, perhaps, for its day and generation. The world has passed -by it, as it has passed by slavery. Henceforth Virginia must prove her -metal in the front of steam, electricity, and possibly mightier forces -still. If she can’t hold her own in their presence, she must go under. -I believe she will hold her own; these very forces will help her. -The dream of the great canal to the Ohio, with its-nine mile tunnel, -costing fifty or more millions, furnished by the general government, -and revolutionizing the commerce of the United States, much as the -discovery of America and opening of the Suez canal revolutionized the -commerce of the world, must be abandoned along with other dreams. - -One cannot withhold admiration from President Johnston and other -officers of the canal, who made such a manful struggle to save it. But -who can war against the elements? Nature herself, imitating man, seems -to have taken special delight in kicking the canal after it was down. -So it must go. Well, let it go. It knew Virginia in her palmiest days -and it crushed the stage coach; isn’t that glory enough? I think it is. -But I can’t help feeling sorry for the bull frogs; there must be a good -many of them between here and Lexington. What will become of them, I -wonder? They will follow their predecessors, the batteaux; and their -pale, green ghosts, seated on the prows of shadowy barges, will be -heard piping the roundelays of long-departed joys. - -Farewell canal, frogs, musk-rats, mules, packet-horns and all, a long -farewell. Welcome the rail along the winding valleys of the James. Wake -up, Fluvanna! Arise, old Buckingham! Exalt thyself, O Goochland! And -thou, O Powhatan, be not afraid nor shame-faced any longer, but raise -thy Ebenezer freely, for the day of thy redemption is at hand. Willis -J. Dance shall rejoice; yea, Wm. Pope Dabney shall be exceeding glad. -And all hail our long lost brother! come to these empty, aching, arms, -dear Lynch’s Ferry! - -I have always thought that the unnatural separation between Lynchburg -and Richmond was the source of all our troubles. In some way, not -entirely clear to me, it brought on the late war, and it will bring on -another, if a reunion between the two cities does not soon take place. -Baltimore, that pretty and attractive, but meddlesome vixen, is at the -bottom of it all. Richmond will not fear Baltimore after the rails are -laid. Her prosperity will date anew from the time of her iron wedding -with Lynchburg. We shall see her merchants on our streets again, and -see them often. That will be a better day. - -Alas! there are many we shall not see. John G. Meem, Sam’l McCorkle, -John Robin McDaniel, John Hollins, Chas. Phelps, Jno. R. D. Payne, Jehu -Williams, Ambrose Rucker, Wilson P. Bryant, (who died the other day,) -and many, many others will not come to Richmond any more. They are -gone. And if they came, they would not meet the men they used to meet; -very few of them at least. Jacquelin P. Taylor, John N. Gordon, Thos. -R. Price, Lewis D. Crenshaw, James Dunlop--why add to the list? They -too are gone. - -But the sons of the old-time merchants of Lynchburg will meet here the -sons of the old-time merchants of Richmond, and the meeting of the -two, the mingling of the waters--Blackwater creek with Bacon Quarter -branch--deuce take it! I have gone off on the water line again--the -admixture, I should say, of the sills of Campbell with the spikes of -Henrico, the readjustment, so to speak, of the ties (R. R. ties) that -bind us, will more than atone for the obsolete canal, and draw us all -the closer by reason of our long separation and estrangement. Richmond -and Lynchburg united will go onward and upward in a common career -of glory and prosperity. And is there, can there be, a Virginian, -deserving the name, who would envy that glory, or for a moment retard -that prosperity? Not one, I am sure. - -Allow me, now that my reminiscences are ended, allow me, as an old -stager and packet-horn reverer, one last Parthian shot. It is this: If -the James river does not behave better hereafter than it has done of -late, the railroad will have to be suspended in mid-heaven by means -of a series of stationary balloons; travelling then may be a little -wabbly, but at all events, it won’t be wet. - - G. W. BAGBY. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Archaic or alternate spelling has been retained from the original. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Canal Reminiscences, by George W. Bagby - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CANAL REMINISCENCES *** - -***** This file should be named 62708-0.txt or 62708-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/7/0/62708/ - -Produced by David E. 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Bagby - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Canal Reminiscences - Recollections of Travel in the Old Days on the James River - & Kanawha Canal - -Author: George W. Bagby - -Release Date: July 20, 2020 [EBook #62708] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CANAL REMINISCENCES *** - - - - -Produced by David E. Brown and The Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/iTitle.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1><span class="u"><span class="smcap">Canal<br /> -Reminiscences</span></span>:</h1> - -<p><span class="xlarge">Recollections of Travel in the Old Days</span><br /> - -ON THE<br /> - -<span class="xlarge">James River & Kanawha Canal.</span></p> - -<p>BY<br /> -<span class="large">GEORGE W. BAGBY.</span></p> - - -<p><span class="large">RICHMOND:</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">West, Johnston & Co., Publishers</span>.<br /> -1879.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="center"><i>Copyright Secured.</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<i>Printed by<br /> -Whittet & Shepperson,<br /> -Richmond, Va.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">Preface.</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">My</span> first thought was to print these reminiscences -in a newspaper. But our papers are unable to pay -for contributions. It was not so in the former days. -Well do I remember when the <i>Dispatch</i> cheerfully -gave me its dollars, not merely for stories and -sketches, but for trifles like the “<i>Weekly Rekord -uv amewsments</i>,” which I then kept, and which -seemed to please our good people of Richmond, who -were then doing so well in business that they were -easily pleased. And truly in those times they were -a liberal, open-hearted set. So would they be now -were they able.</p> - -<p>Will we ever see good times and plenty of money -again? I think so. And yet often I get very blue, -apprehending still greater business troubles, culminating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -in I know not what of civil disaster. It is -touching to me, going around, as I have had to do a -great deal of late, among our business men, to see -their sad faces, and yet their evident anxiety in the -midst of worries and cares, to help one who is even -worse off than themselves. We have good stock -here—men who would honor any city in the land, -and who make up a community in which it is a -pleasure to live. Here and there you find one, two, -or three close-fisted fellows, who dodge you for fear -you will ask them for something. That is to their -credit, for it shows that they have feeling and a sense -of shame. And again you meet positive brutes, who -are not merely stingy and mean, but ill-mannered -and under-bred to boot. But these serve as foils to -set off their better brethren to more advantage; and -I, for one, am not the man to abuse stingy people. -They have one magnificent trait to counterpoise -their littleness—they pay their debts, and pay them -promptly. So, take it all in all, Richmond is about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -as good a place to live in as a man will find on this -globe, as I have learned by playing book-canvasser,—an -excellent school for the study of men.</p> - -<p>But shall we see better times? Why, yes, surely. -They have begun already in Troy, N. Y., the papers -say. And I verily believe the railway, which is to -take the place of the canal, will do more than all -things else to bring back work for all and money -for all of us in our fair city of Richmond. Let us -at least hope so. And with that hope in view, I -trust that these reminiscences of an obsolescent mode -of travel—which may have been delightful, but certainly -was not rapid—will give a few moments of -pleasure to the friends of the publishers and of the -writer.</p> - -<p class="right">G. W. B.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">Canal Reminiscences.</h2></div> - - -<p class="drop-cap">AMONG my earliest recollections is a trip from -Cumberland County to Lynchburg, in 1835, or -thereabouts. As the stage approached Glover’s -tavern in Appomattox county, sounds as of a cannonade -aroused my childish curiosity to a high pitch. -I had been reading Parley’s History of America, and -this must be the noise of actual battle. Yes; the war -against the hateful Britishers must have broken out -again. Would the stage carry us within range of the -cannon balls? Yes, and presently the red-coats would -come swarming out of the woods. And—and—Gen. -Washington was dead; I was certain of that; what -would become of us? I was terribly excited, but -afraid to ask questions. Perhaps I was scared.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -Would they kill an unarmed boy, sitting peaceably -in a stage coach? Of course they would; Britishers -will do anything! Then they will have to shoot a -couple of men first;—and I squeezed still closer between -them.</p> - -<p>My relief and my disappointment were equally -great, when a casual remark unfolded the fact that the -noise which so excited me was only the “blasting of -rock on the Jeems and Kanawha Canell.” What was -“blasting of rock?”</p> - -<p>What was a “canell?” and, above all, what manner -of thing was a “Jeems and Kanawha Canell?” -Was it alive?</p> - -<p>I think it was; more alive than it has ever been -since, except for the first few years after it was opened.</p> - -<p>Those were the “good old days” of batteaux,—picturesque -craft that charmed my young eyes more -than all the gondolas of Venice would do now. True, -they consumed a week in getting from Lynchburg to -Richmond, and ten days in returning against the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -stream, but what of that? Time was abundant in those -days. It was made for slaves, and we had the slaves. A -batteau on the water was more than a match for the -best four or six horse bell-team that ever rolled over -the red clay of Bedford, brindle dog and tar-bucket -included.</p> - -<p>Fleets of these batteaux used to be moored on the -river bank near where the depot of the Virginia and -Tennessee Railroad now stands; and many years after -the “Jeems and Kanawha” was finished, one of them -used to haunt the mouth of Blackwater creek above -the toll-bridge, a relic of departed glory. For if -ever man gloried in his calling,—the negro batteau-man -was that man. His was a hardy calling, demanding -skill, courage and strength in a high degree. -I can see him now striding the plank that ran along -the gunwale to afford him footing, his long iron-shod -pole trailing in the water behind him. Now he turns, -and after one or two ineffectual efforts to get his pole -fixed in the rocky bottom of the river, secures his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -purchase, adjusts the upper part of the pole to the pad -at his shoulder, bends to his task, and the long, -but not ungraceful bark mounts the rapids like -a sea-bird breasting the storm. His companion -on the other side plies the pole with equal ardor, -and between the two the boat bravely surmounts every -obstacle, be it rocks, rapids, quicksands, hammocks, -what not. A third negro at the stern held the -mighty oar that served as a rudder. A stalwart, -jolly, courageous set they were, plying the pole all -day, hauling in to shore at night under the friendly -shade of a mighty sycamore, to rest, to eat, to play -the banjo, and to snatch a few hours of profound, -blissful sleep.</p> - -<p>The up-cargo, consisting of sacks of salt, bags of -coffee, barrels of sugar, molasses and whiskey, afforded -good pickings. These sturdy fellows lived -well, I promise you, and if they stole a little, why, -what was their petty thieving compared to the enormous -pillage of the modern sugar refiner and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -crooked-whiskey distiller? They lived well. Their -cook’s galley was a little dirt thrown between the -ribs of the boat at the stern, with an awning on occasion -to keep off the rain, and what they didn’t eat -wasn’t worth eating. Fish of the very best, both -salt and fresh, chickens, eggs, milk and the invincible, -never-satisfying ash-cake and fried bacon. I see -the frying-pan, I smell the meat, the fish, the Rio -coffee!—I want the batteau back again, aye! and the -brave, light-hearted slave to boot. What did he -know about the State debt? There was no State -debt to speak of. Greenbacks? Bless, you! the -Farmers Bank of Virginia was living and breathing, -and its money was good enough for a king. Readjustment, -funding bill, tax-receivable coupons—where -were all these worries then? I think if we -had known they were coming, we would have stuck -to the batteaux and never dammed the river. Why, -shad used to run to Lynchburg! The world was -merry, butter-milk was abundant; Lynchburg a lad,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -Richmond a mere youth, and the great “Jeems and -Kanawha canell” was going to—oh! it was going to -do everything.</p> - -<p>This was forty years ago and more, mark you.</p> - -<p>In 1838, I made my first trip to Richmond. -What visions of grandeur filled my youthful imagination! -That eventually I should get to be a man -seemed probable, but that I should ever be big -enough to live, actually live, in the vast metropolis, -was beyond my dreams. For I believed fully that -men were proportioned to the size of the cities they -lived in. I had seen a man named Hatcher from -Cartersville, who was near about the size of the average -man in Lynchburg, but as I had never seen Cartersville, -I concluded, naturally enough, that Cartersville -must be equal in population. Which may be the -fact, for I have never yet seen Cartersville, though I -have been to Warminster, and once came near passing -through Bent-Creek.</p> - -<p>I went by stage.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>It took two days to make the trip, yet no one complained, -although there were many Methodist ministers -aboard. Bro. Lafferty had not been born. I -thought it simply glorious. There was an unnatural -preponderance of preacher to boy,—nine of -preacher to one of boy. That boy did not take a -leading part in the conversation. He looked out of -the window, and thought much about Richmond. -And what a wonderful world it was! So many trees, -such nice rocks, and pretty ruts in the red clay; such -glorious taverns, and men with red noses; such -splendid horses, a fresh team every ten miles, and -an elegant smell of leather, proceeding from the coach, -prevailing everywhere as we bowled merrily along. -And then the stage horn. Let me not speak of it, -lest Thomas and his orchestra hang their heads for -very shame. I wish somebody would tell me where -we stopped the first night, for I have quite forgotten. -Any how, it was on the left-hand side coming down,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -and I rather think on the brow of a little hill. I -know we got up mighty soon the next morning.</p> - -<p>We drew up at the Eagle hotel in Richmond. -Here again words, and time too, fail me. All the -cities on earth packed into one wouldn’t look as big -and fine to me now as Main street did then. If -things shrink so in the brief space of a life-time, -what would be the general appearance, say of Petersburg, -if one should live a million or so of years? This -is an interesting question, which you may discuss -with yourself, dear reader.</p> - -<p>Going northward, I remained a year or two, and -on my return the “canell” was finished. I had seen -bigger places than Richmond, but had yet to have -my first experience of canal travelling. The packet-landing -at the foot of Eighth street presented a scene -of great activity. Passengers on foot and in vehicles -continued to arrive up to the moment of starting. I -took a peep at the cabin, wondering much how all -the passengers were to be accommodated for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -night, saw how nicely the baggage was stored away on -deck, admired the smart waiters, and picked up a deal -of information generally. I became acquainted with -the names of Edmond & Davenport in Richmond, -and Boyd, Edmond & Davenport in Lynchburg, the -owners of the packet-line, and thought to myself, -“What immensely rich men they must be! Why, -these boats cost ten times as much as a stage-coach, -and I am told they have them by the dozen.”</p> - -<p>At last we were off, slowly pushed along under -the bridge on Seventh street; then the horses were -hitched; then slowly along till we passed the crowd -of boats near the city, until at length, with a lively -jerk as the horses fell into a trot, away we went, the -cut-water throwing up the spray as we rounded the -Penitentiary hill, and the passengers lingering on -deck to get a last look at the fair city of Richmond, -lighted by the pale rays of the setting sun.</p> - -<p>As the shadows deepened, everybody went below. -There was always a crowd in those days, but it was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -crowd for the most part of our best people, and no -one minded it. I was little, and it took little room -to accommodate me. Everything seemed as cozy -and comfortable as heart could wish. I brought to -the table,—an excellent one it was,—a school boy’s appetite, -sharpened by travel, and thought it was “just -splendid.”</p> - -<p>Supper over, the men went on deck to smoke, -while the ladies busied themselves with draughts or -backgammon, with conversation or with books. But -not for long. The curtains which separated the -female from the male department were soon drawn, -in order that the steward and his aids might make -ready the berths. These were three deep, “lower,” -“middle” and “upper;” and great was the desire on -the part of the men not to be consigned to the -“upper.” Being light as a cork, I rose naturally to -the top, clambering thither by the leathern straps with -the agility of a monkey, and enjoying as best I might -the trampling overhead whenever we approached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -a lock. I didn’t mind this much, but when the fellow -who had snubbed the boat jumped down about -four feet, right on my head as it were, it was pretty -severe. Still I slept the sleep of youth. We all -went to bed early. A few lingered, talking in low -tones; and way-passengers, in case there was a crowd, -were dumped upon mattresses, placed on the dining -tables.</p> - -<p>The lamp shed a dim light over the sleepers, and -all went well till some one—and there always was -some one—began to snore. <i>Sn-a-a-aw!</i>—<i>aw-aw-poof!</i> -They would turn uneasily and try to compose themselves -to slumber again. No use. <i>Sn-a-a-aw</i>—<i>poof!</i> -“D—— that fellow! Chunk him in the -ribs, somebody, and make him turn over. Is this -thing to go on forever? Gentlemen, are you going -to stand this all night? If you are, I am not. I -am going to get up and dress. Who is he anyhow? -No gentleman would or could snore in that way.”</p> - -<p>After a while silence would be restored, and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -would drop off to sleep again, except the little fellow -in the upper berth, who lying there would listen to -the <i>trahn-ahn-ahn-ahn</i> of the packet-horn as we -drew nigh the locks. How mournfully it sounded -in the night! what a doleful thing it is at best, and -how different from the stage-horn with its cheery, -ringing notes! The difference in the horns marks -the difference in the two eras of travel; not that the -canal period is doleful—I would not say that, but it -is less bright than the period of the stage-coach.</p> - -<p>To this day you have only to say within my hearing -<i>trahn-ahn-ahn</i>, to bring back the canal epoch. I -can see the whole thing down to the snubbing post -with its deep grooves which the heavy rope had -worn. Indeed, I think I could snub a boat myself -with very little practice, if the man on deck would -say “<i>hup!</i>” to the horses at the proper time.</p> - -<p>We turned out early in the morning, and had precious -little room for dressing. But that was no hardship -to me, who had just emerged from a big boarding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -school dormitory. Still, I must say, being now a -grown and oldish man, that I would not like to live -and sleep and dress for twenty or thirty years in the -cabin of a canal-packet. The ceremony of ablution -was performed in a primitive fashion. There were -the tin basins, the big tin dipper with the long wooden -handle. I feel it vibrating in the water now, and -the water a little muddy generally; and there were -the towels, a big one on a roller, and the little ones -in a pile, and all of them wet. These were discomforts, -it is true, but, pshaw! one good, big, long, deep -draught of pure, fresh morning air—one glimpse of -the roseate flush above the wooded hills of the James, -one look at the dew besprent bushes and vines along -the canal bank—one sweet caress of dear mother -nature in her morning robes, made ample compensation -for them all. Breakfast was soon served, and -all the more enjoyed in consequence of an hour’s fasting -on deck; the sun came out in all his splendor; -the day was fairly set in, and with it there was abundant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -leisure to enjoy the scenery, that grew more and -more captivating as we rose, lock after lock, into the -rock-bound eminences of the upper James. This -scenery I will not attempt to describe, for time has -sadly, dimmed it in my recollection. The wealth of -the lowlands, and the upland beauty must be seen as -I have seen them, in the day of their prime, to be enjoyed.</p> - -<p>The perfect cultivation, the abundance, the elegance, -the ducal splendor, one might almost say, of the great -estates that lay along the canal in the old days have -passed away in a great measure. Here were gentlemen, -not merely refined and educated, fitted to display -a royal hospitality and to devote their leisure -to the study of the art and practice of government, -but they were great and greatly successful farmers -as well. The land teemed with all manner of products, -cereals, fruits, what not! negroes by the hundreds -and the thousands, under wise direction, gentle -but firm control, plied the hoe to good purpose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -There was enough and to spare for all—to spare? -aye! to bestow with glad and lavish hospitality. A -mighty change has been wrought. What that change -is in all of its effects mine eyes have happily been -spared the seeing; but well I remember—I can never -forget—how from time to time the boat would stop -at one of these estates, and the planter, his wife, his -daughters, and the guests that were going home with -him, would be met by those who had remained behind, -and how joyous the greetings were! It was a -bright and happy scene, and it continually repeated -itself as we went onward.</p> - -<p>In fine summer weather, the passengers, male and -female, stayed most of the time on deck, where there -was a great deal to interest, and naught to mar -the happiness, except the oft-repeated warning, -“<i>braidge!</i>” “<i>low braidge!</i>” No well-regulated -packet-hand was ever allowed to say plain “bridge;” -that was an etymological crime in canal ethics. For -the men, this on-deck existence was especially delightful;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -it is <i>such</i> a comfort to spit plump into the -water without the trouble of feeling around with -your head, in the midst of a political discussion, for -the spittoon.</p> - -<p>As for me, I often went below, to devour Dickens’s -earlier novels, which were then appearing in rapid -succession. But, drawn by the charm of the scenery, -I would often drop my book and go back on deck -again. There was an islet in the river—where, exactly, -I cannot tell—which had a beauty of its own -for me, because from the moment I first saw it, my -purpose was to make it the scene of a romance, when -I got to be a great big man, old enough to write -for the papers. There is a point at which the passengers -would get off, and taking a near cut across -the hills, would stretch their legs with a mile or two -of walking. It was unmanly, I held, to miss that. -Apropos of scenery, I must not forget the haunted -house near Manchester, which was pointed out soon -after we left Richmond, and filled me with awe; for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -though I said I did not believe in ghosts, I did. The -ruined mill, a mile or two further on, was always an -object of melancholy interest to me; and of all the -locks from Lynchburg down, the Three-Mile Locks -pleased me most. It is a pretty place, as every one -will own on seeing it. It was so clean and green, -and white and thrifty-looking. To me it was simply -beautiful. I wanted to live there; I ought to have -lived there. I was built for a lock-keeper—have that -exact moral and mental shape. Ah! to own your -own negro, who would do all the drudgery of opening -the gates. Occasionally you would go through -the form of putting your shoulder to the huge -wooden levers, if that is what they call them, by -which the gates are opened; to own your own negro -and live and die calmly at a lock! What more -could the soul ask? I do think that the finest picture -extant of peace and contentment—a little abnormal, -perhaps, in the position of the animal—is -that of a sick mule looking out of the window of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -canal freight-boat. And that you could see every day -from the porch of your cottage, if you lived at a -lock, owned your own negro, and there was no -great rush of business on the canal, (and there seldom -was) on the “Jeems and Kanawhy,” as old -Capt. Sam Wyatt always called it, leaving out the -word “canal,” for that was understood. Yes, one -ought to live as a pure and resigned lock-keeper, if -one would be blest, really blest.</p> - -<p>Now that I am on the back track, let me add that, -however bold and picturesque the cliffs and bluffs -near Lynchburg and beyond, there was nothing from -one end the canal to the other to compare with the -first sight of Richmond, when, rounding a corner not -far from Hollywood, it burst full upon the vision, its -capitol, its spires, its happy homes, flushed with the -red glow of evening. And what it looked to be, it -was. Its interior, far from belieing its exterior, -surpassed it. The world over, there is no lovelier -site for a city; and the world over there was no city<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -that quite equalled it in the charm of its hospitality, -its refinement, its intelligence, its cordial welcome to -strangers. Few of its inhabitants were very rich, -fewer still were very poor. But I must not dwell on -this. Beautiful city! beautiful city! you may grow to -be as populous as London, and sure no one wishes you -greater prosperity than I, but grow as you may, you -can never be happier than you were in the days -whereof I speak. How your picture comes back to -me, softened by time, glorified by all the tender, glowing -tints of memory. Around you now is the added -glory of history, a defence almost unrivalled in the -annals of warfare; but for me there is something -even brighter than historic fame, a hue derived only -from the heaven of memory. In my childhood, when -all things were beautified by the unclouded light of -“the young soul wandering here in nature,” I saw -you in your youth, full of hope, full of promise, -full of all those gracious influences which made your -State greatest among all her sisters, and which seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -concentrated in yourself. Be your maturity what it -may, it can never be brighter than this.</p> - -<p>To return to the boat. All the scenery in the -world—rocks that Salvator would love to paint, and -skies that Claude could never limn—all the facilities -for spitting that earth affords, avail not to keep a -Virginian away from a julep on a hot summer day. -From time to time he would descend from the deck -of the packet and refresh himself. The bar was -small, but vigorous and healthy. I was then in the -lemonade stage of boyhood, and it was not until -many years afterwards that I rose through porterees -and claret-punches to the sublimity of the sherry -cobbler, and discovered that the packet bar supplied -genuine Havana cigars at fourpence-ha’penny. -Why, eggs were but sixpence a dozen on the canal -bank, and the national debt wouldn’t have filled a -tea-cup. Internal revenue was unknown; the coupons -receivable for taxes inconceivable, and forcible -readjustment a thing undreamt of in Virginian philosophy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -Mr. Mallock’s pregnant question, “Is life -worth living?” was answered very satisfactorily, methought, -as I watched the Virginians at their juleps: -“Gentlemen, your very good health;” “Colonel, -my respects to you;” “My regards, Judge. When -shall I see you again at my house? Can’t you stop -now and stay a little while, if it is only a week or -two?” “Sam,” (to the bar-keeper,) “duplicate these -drinks.”</p> - -<p>How they smacked their lips; how hot the talk -on politics became; and how pernicious this example -of drinking in public was to the boy who looked on! -Oh! yes; and if you expect your son to go through -life without bad examples set him by his elders in a -thousand ways, you must take him to another sphere. -Still, the fewer bad examples the better, and you, at -least, need not set them.</p> - -<p>Travelling always with my father, who was a merchant, -it was natural that I should become acquainted -with merchants. But I remember very few of them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -Mr. Daniel H. London, who was a character, and -Mr. Fleming James, who often visited his estate in -Roanoke, and was more of a character than London, -I recall quite vividly. I remember, too, Mr. Francis B. -Deane, who was always talking about Mobjack Bay, -and who was yet to build the Langhorne Foundry -in Lynchburg. I thought if I could just see Mobjack -Bay, I would be happy. According to Mr. -Deane, and I agreed with him, there ought by this -time to have been a great city on Mobjack Bay. I -saw Mobjack Bay last summer, and was happy. -Any man who goes to Gloucester will be happy. -More marked than all of these characters was Major -Yancey, of Buckingham, “the wheel-horse of Democracy,” -he was called; Tim. Rives, of Prince -George, whose face, some said, resembled the inside -of a gunlock, being the war-horse. Major Y.’s stout -figure, florid face, and animated, forcible manner, -come back with some distinctness; and there are -other forms, but they are merely outlines barely discernible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -So pass away men who, in their day, were -names and powers—shadows gone into shadow-land, -leaving but a dim print upon a few brains, which in -time will soon flit away.</p> - -<p>Arrived in Lynchburg, the effect of the canal was -soon seen in the array of freight boats, the activity -and bustle at the packet landing. New names and -new faces, from the canal region of New York, most -likely, were seen and heard. I became acquainted -with the family of Capt. Huntley, who commanded -one of the boats, and was for some years quite intimate -with his pretty daughters, Lizzie, Harriet and -Emma. Capt. H. lived on Church street, next door -to the Reformed, or as it was then called, the Radical -Methodist Church, and nearly opposite to Mr. -Peleg Seabury. He was for a time connected in -some way with the Exchange hotel, but removed -with his family to Cincinnati, since when I have -never but once heard of them. Where are they all, -I wonder? Then, there was a Mr. Watson, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -lived with Boyd, Edmond & Davenport, married -first a Miss ——, and afterwards, Mrs. Christian, -went into the tobacco business in Brooklyn, then -disappeared, leaving no trace, not the slightest. Then -there was a rare fellow, Charles Buckley, who lived -in the same store with Watson, had a fine voice, and -without a particle of religion in the ordinary sense, -loved dearly to sing at revivals. I went with him; -we took back seats, and sang with great fervor. -This was at night. Besides Captain Huntley, -I remember among the captains of a later -date, Captain Jack Yeatman; and at a date -still later his brother, Captain C. E. Yeatman, -both of whom are still living. There was still -another captain whose name was Love—— something, -a very handsome man; and these are all.</p> - -<p>In 1849, having graduated in Philadelphia, I -made one of my last through-trips on the canal, the -happy owner of a diploma in a green tin case, and -the utterly miserable possessor of a dyspepsia which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -threatened my life. I enjoyed the night on deck, -sick as I was. The owl’s “long hoot,” the “plaintive -cry of the whippoorwill;” the melody—for it is -by association a melody, which the Greeks have but -travestied with their <i>brek-ke-ex</i>, <i>ko-ex</i>—of the frogs, the -mingled hum of insect life, the “stilly sound” of inanimate -nature, the soft respiration of sleeping earth, -and above all, the ineffable glory of the stars. Oh! -heaven of heavens, into which the sick boy, lying -alone on deck, then looked, has thy charm fled, -too, with so many other charms? Have thirty years -of suffering, of thought, of book-reading, brought -only the unconsoling knowledge, that yonder twinkling -sparks of far-off fire are not lamps that light -the portals of the palace of the King and Father, but -suns like our sun, surrounded by earths full of woe -and doubt like our own; and that heaven, if heaven -there be, is not in the sky; not in space, vast as it is; -not in time, endless though it be—where then? -“Near thee, in thy heart!” Who feels this, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -will say this of himself? Away thou gray-haired, -sunken-cheeked sceptic, away! Come back to me, -come back to me, wan youth; there on that deck, -with the treasure of thy faith, thy trust in men, thy -worship of womankind, thy hope, that sickness -could not chill, in the sweet possibilities of life. -Come back to me!—’Tis a vain cry. The youth lies -there on the packet’s deck, looking upward to the -stars, and he will not return.</p> - -<p>The trip in 1849 was a dreary one until there came -aboard a dear lady friend of mine who had recently -been married. I had not had a good honest talk -with a girl for eighteen solid—I think I had better -say long, (we always say long when speaking of the -war)—“fo’ long years!”—I have heard it a thousand -times—for eighteen long months, and you may imagine -how I enjoyed the conversation with my friend. -She wasn’t very pretty, and her husband was a Louisa -man; but her talk, full of good heart and good sense, -put new life into me. One other through trip, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -very last, I made in 1851. On my return in 1853, -I went by rail as far as Farmville, and thence by -stage to Lynchburg; so that, for purposes of through -travel, the canal lasted, one may say, only ten or a -dozen years. And now the canal, after a fair and -costly trial, is to give place to the rail, and I, in common -with the great body of Virginians, am heartily -glad of it. It has served its purpose well enough, -perhaps, for its day and generation. The world has -passed by it, as it has passed by slavery. Henceforth -Virginia must prove her metal in the front of steam, -electricity, and possibly mightier forces still. If she -can’t hold her own in their presence, she must go -under. I believe she will hold her own; these very -forces will help her. The dream of the great canal -to the Ohio, with its-nine mile tunnel, costing fifty -or more millions, furnished by the general government, -and revolutionizing the commerce of the -United States, much as the discovery of America -and opening of the Suez canal revolutionized the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -commerce of the world, must be abandoned along -with other dreams.</p> - -<p>One cannot withhold admiration from President -Johnston and other officers of the canal, who made -such a manful struggle to save it. But who can -war against the elements? Nature herself, imitating -man, seems to have taken special delight in kicking -the canal after it was down. So it must go. Well, -let it go. It knew Virginia in her palmiest days -and it crushed the stage coach; isn’t that glory -enough? I think it is. But I can’t help feeling -sorry for the bull frogs; there must be a good many -of them between here and Lexington. What will -become of them, I wonder? They will follow their -predecessors, the batteaux; and their pale, green -ghosts, seated on the prows of shadowy barges, will be -heard piping the roundelays of long-departed joys.</p> - -<p>Farewell canal, frogs, musk-rats, mules, packet-horns -and all, a long farewell. Welcome the rail -along the winding valleys of the James. Wake up,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -Fluvanna! Arise, old Buckingham! Exalt thyself, -O Goochland! And thou, O Powhatan, be not -afraid nor shame-faced any longer, but raise thy -Ebenezer freely, for the day of thy redemption is at -hand. Willis J. Dance shall rejoice; yea, Wm. Pope -Dabney shall be exceeding glad. And all hail our -long lost brother! come to these empty, aching, arms, -dear Lynch’s Ferry!</p> - -<p>I have always thought that the unnatural separation -between Lynchburg and Richmond was the -source of all our troubles. In some way, not entirely -clear to me, it brought on the late war, and it will -bring on another, if a reunion between the two cities -does not soon take place. Baltimore, that pretty -and attractive, but meddlesome vixen, is at the bottom -of it all. Richmond will not fear Baltimore -after the rails are laid. Her prosperity will date -anew from the time of her iron wedding with Lynchburg. -We shall see her merchants on our streets -again, and see them often. That will be a better day.</p> - - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>Alas! there are many we shall not see. John -G. Meem, Sam’l McCorkle, John Robin McDaniel, -John Hollins, Chas. Phelps, Jno. R. D. Payne, Jehu -Williams, Ambrose Rucker, Wilson P. Bryant, (who -died the other day,) and many, many others will not -come to Richmond any more. They are gone. And -if they came, they would not meet the men they used -to meet; very few of them at least. Jacquelin P. -Taylor, John N. Gordon, Thos. R. Price, Lewis D. -Crenshaw, James Dunlop—why add to the list? -They too are gone.</p> - -<p>But the sons of the old-time merchants of Lynchburg -will meet here the sons of the old-time merchants -of Richmond, and the meeting of the two, -the mingling of the waters—Blackwater creek with Bacon -Quarter branch—deuce take it! I have gone off -on the water line again—the admixture, I should say, -of the sills of Campbell with the spikes of Henrico, -the readjustment, so to speak, of the ties (R. R. ties) -that bind us, will more than atone for the obsolete<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -canal, and draw us all the closer by reason of our long -separation and estrangement. Richmond and Lynchburg -united will go onward and upward in a common -career of glory and prosperity. And is there, can -there be, a Virginian, deserving the name, who would -envy that glory, or for a moment retard that prosperity? -Not one, I am sure.</p> - -<p>Allow me, now that my reminiscences are ended, -allow me, as an old stager and packet-horn reverer, -one last Parthian shot. It is this: If the James river -does not behave better hereafter than it has done of -late, the railroad will have to be suspended in mid-heaven -by means of a series of stationary balloons; -travelling then may be a little wabbly, but at all -events, it won’t be wet.</p> - -<p class="right">G. W. BAGBY.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Archaic or alternate spelling has been retained from the original.</p> - -<p>The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber from the title page and is entered into the public domain.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Canal Reminiscences, by George W. Bagby - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CANAL REMINISCENCES *** - -***** This file should be named 62708-h.htm or 62708-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/7/0/62708/ - -Produced by David E. 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