The methods of eating mush and milk were various. Some would sit around the pot, and every one take therefrom for himself. Some would set a table and each have his tin-cup of milk, and with a pewter spoon take just as much mush fiom the dish or the pot, if it was on the table, as he thought would fill his mouth or throat, then lowering it into the milk would take some to wash it down. This method kept the milk cool, and by frequent repetitions the pioneers would contract a faculty of correctly estimating the proper amount of each. Others would mix mush and milk together. . . . . To get grinding done was often a great difficulty, by reason of the scarcity of mills, the freezes in winter and droughts in summer. We had often to manufacture meal (when we had corn) in any way we could get the corn to pieces. We soaked and pounded it, we shaved it, we planed it, and, at the proper season, grated it. When one of our neighbors got a hand-mill it was thought quite an acquisition to the neighborhood. In after years, when in time of freezing or drought, we could get grinding by waiting for our turn no more than one day and a night at a horse-mill we thought ourselves happy. To save meal we often made pumpkin bread, in which when meal was scarce the pumpkin would so predonimate as to render it next to impossible to tell our bread from that article, either by taste, looks, or the amount of nutriment it contained. Salt was five dollars a bushel, and we used none in our corn bread, which we soon liked as well without it. Often has sweat ran into my mouth, which tasted as fresh and flat as distilled water. What meat we had at first was fresh, and but little of that, for had we been hunters we had no time to practice it. We had no candles, and cared but little about them except for summer use. In Carolina we had the real fat light-wood, not merely pine knots, but the fat straight pine. This, from the brilliancy of our parlor, of winter evemngs, might be supposed to put, not only candles, lamps, camphine, Greenough's chemical oil, but even gas itself, to the blush. In the West we had not this, but my business was to ramble the woods every evening for seasoned sticks, or the bark of the shelly hickory, for light. 'Tis true that our light was not as good as even candles, but we got along without fretting, for we depended more upon the goodness of our eves than we did upon the brilliancy of the light. TRAVELLING NOTES. The Poor Man's Railroad. - The initial letters of the name of a railway terminating at Bellaire are “B. Z. & C." Ask people on that line “What B. Z. & C. stand for?" With a quizzical smile they will often answer "badly zigzag and crooked;" having just come over it I can say that exactly describes it. Its name, hlowever, is Bellaire, Zanesville & Cincinnati. Its projector and builder of that part within this county was Col. John H. Sullivan, Bellaire; a calm, dignified gentleman, clear and careful in his statements, whom it did me good to meet. It was impracticable to build an ordinary railroad through the rough wild country of the Ohio river hills of Belmont and Monroe counties, so the colonel planned a narrow gauge with steep grades and sharp curves, and he called it “Poor Man's Railroad." From Woodsfield, county-seat of Monroe, to Bellaire, a distance of forty-two miles, on which passenger trains go about sixteen miles an hour, it cost but $1 l,500 per mile, a miracle of cheapness. This includes land, grading, bridges. tracks, everything exclusive of rolling stock. It was finished to Woodsfield in 1877, and all by private subscription. It is of incalculable benefit to the farmers of the Ohio river hills, for the cost of good wagon roads among them is enormous and a serious drawback to the development of the country. A large part of the road is a succession of curves, trestle work and steep grades. In places the road rises over 130 feet to the mile, and some of the curves have a radius of but 400 feet; at one spot there is a reverse curve on a trestle. Where curves are so sharp the outer rail is placed three inches the highest to hold the cars on the track; but the friction occasions a horrid screeching of the wheels. The Colorado Central, like this, is a narrow gauge. It leads from the Union Pacific to the mining regions of Colorado. Its extreme grade is more than twice that of this, 275 feet to the mile. Some gentlemen riding over it on a platform car to see the country said such was the irregularity of the motion that they were obliged to cling "for dear life" to the sides of the car to prevent being jerked off. From my experience I think the 'Badly Zigzag and Crooked" but a trifle less shaky. I extract from my note book: Bellaire Friday evening, May 28. - Left Woodsfield early this morning and got on the train for Bellaire; only a single passenger car with a few men aboard, but no women! I felt sorry; I always like to see 'em about. Their presence "sort o" sanctifies things. Away we went on this little baby railroad, the “Badly Zigzag and Crooked." The town I had left behind, placed high up in the hills, was quite primitive; it had scarcely changed since my first visit, in 1846. In a few minutes we were zigzagging, twisting down a little run in a winding chasm among the hills wooded to their summits, the scenery very wild, every moment the cars changing their direction and shaking us about with their constant jar and grind, and wabbling now to one side and then to the other. In twenty minutes I was peeping through charming vistas into a wild valley. In a few more minutes and we were in it; crossed a little bridge some six rods wide and paused at the farther side, by a little cottage in its aspect domestic and un-railroad-like, notwithstanding its sign "Sunfish Station." The Pretty Sunfish - Yes, this little, romantic stream was the Sunfish. I looked down the valley, a deep chasm, narrow, tortuous with its wood-clad hills, the lights and shades on the scene all glorious in the early morning light. What a pretty name - "Sunfish !" instinctively the mind takes in the little creature that dwells in the freedom of the waters and darts around clad in its beauty spots of crimson and gold, down there where everything is so clean and pure. How I longed to get out of the cars and follow this winding little stream until it was lost in the Ohio, some twenty miles away; to feast my eyes with its hidden beauties, all unknown to the great outside world - beauties of sparkling cascades and laughing waters, and smooth, silent, dark reaches, where frowning cliffs and dense foliage and summer clouds seem as sleeping down below. They tell me that the Ohio State Fish Commission in 1885 put into the Sunfish half a million of California trout and salmon; the stream naturally abounds in yellow perch. At Sunfish Station a woman, humbly clad, with children and bundles, came aboard, when out of respect to the sex out spake the conductor; when out went through the window a vile Wheeling stogie - the poor man's cigar. It is said that city turns out annually tens of millions, and all this part of the country smoke them - the millions. Then up out of the chasm our train went, again twisting, wabbling, squeaking, screeching with the same deafening, infernal grind, the engine one moment poking its nose this way and then that, like Bruno or Snow Flake searching for a bone. We were going up to the birthplace of a mountain rill that was on its way rejoicing to help along the pretty sunfish. A Future Jay Gould. - After a little my attention was caught by a living object. On a cleared space of a quarter of an acre, ten rods away in a cleft in the hillside it was, stood a miserable log-hut without a door or a window in sigli~ By it was a single living object: a boy in a single garment, about six years old, gazing upon us. It would have been worth a plum to have known the mental status of that child as he looked out upon our train. To be interested in motion is a grand human instinct. A great divine said to me once, "From my study window I get just a glimpse of the top of the smoke-stack of the locomotive on the railroad thirty rods away; but no matter how absorbing my study, I invariably look up at every passing train." This was the late Leonard Bacon, the identical person to whose pungent writings Abraham Lincoln ascribed his first insight of the wrong of slavery. As I looked upon this child I felt an inward respect for his possibilities; felt like taking off my hat to him; a human being anyway, is a big thing. He may be the Jay Gould of 1930. Certainly to be born poor and among the hills, seems to be no barrier to an eventual grasp of the money bags or, what is better than a grasp simply of externals, the highest, purest, noblest development of one's self. Beautiful Belmont. - A little later we were in the open, elevated country of beautiful Belmont county. It seemed as though we were on the roof of the world. No forests in sight, but huge, round, grassy hills, on which sheep were grazing, and a vast, boundless prospect stretching like a billowy ocean of green all around, with here and there warm, red-hued patches-ploughed fields. We could see white farm-houses glistening in the morning sun, miles on miles away. Henry Stanberry, once riding in a stage-coach on the National road through this region, said: "I should have liked to have been born in Belmont county." "Why?" inquired a companion. "Because people born in a country of marked features have marked features themselves." The Valley of the Captina was reached from the table-lands by a rapid descent, when we stopped a few moments at a mining point - Captina Station Bridge. It was just long enough for me to sketch from the car windows a row of miners' cottages, and from which the inmates go forth every morning to their work, descending a perpendicular hole in the ground seventy-three feet. To strike the same vein, "The Pittsburg vein," at Steubenville, in the county north, they descend from 225 to 261 feet, being about the deepest shafts in the State. A mining experience was mine on the 13th day of July, l843. On that day I got into a basket suspended over the Midlothian coal mine near Richmond, Va., and descended perpendicularly, by steam, 625 feet. Then, being put in charge of the overseer, I went down ladders and slopes so that I attained a depth of about 1,000 feet from the surface. The overseer took me everywhere, exploring, as he said, about four miles. It was noon when I entered the pit, and when I came out above ground and got out of the basket what was my astonishment to find the twilight of a summer evening pervading the landscape. I found the owner had never ventured into his own mine, and I learn it is often the same with owners in Ohio. I am glad I ventured, yet it was not an experience that I care to repeat; but the music of the sweet singers that evening, at the mansion of the gentleman, the owner, whose guest I was, rested me after my toil, and lingers in memory. From Captina we soon descended into a narrow valley, passing by some small, neat, white cottages with long porches, and poultry trotting around in side yards, and then suddenly burst into view the broad valley of the Ohio and, following the river banks, were soon in that hive of industry and glass - Bellaire. BELLAIRE, 120 miles east of Columbus and 5 miles below Wheeling, on the Ohio river, is on the B. & O., B. Z. & C., and C. & P. Railroads. It is an important manufacturing town; its manufactories are supplied with natural gas, and it has ten coal mines, water works, paved streets and street railway. Newspapers: Herald, Democratic, E. M. Lockwood, editor; Independent, Republican, J. F. Anderson, editor; Tribune, Republican, C. L. Poorman & Co., editors. Churches: 2 Methodist Episcopal, 1 Colored Methodist Episcopal, 2 Presbyterian, 1 United Presbyterian, 1 Disciples, 1 Episcopal, 1 German Reformed, 1 Church of God and 1 Catholic. Bank: First National, J. T. Mercer, president, A. P. Tallman, cashier. Manufactures and Employees. - Lantern Globe Co., 95 hands; Crystal Window Glass Co., 61; Bellaire Steel and Nail Works, 650; Union Window Glass Works, 63; DuBois & McCoy, doors, sash, etc., 27; Bellaire Bottle Co., 130; Belmont Glass Works, 240; Bellaire Barrel Works, 16; James Fitton, gas fitting, 13; Ohio Lantern Co., 83; Bellaire Stamping Co., metal specialties, 210; Bellaire Goblet Co., 285; Enterprise Window Glass Co., 59; Bellaire Window Glass Works, 106; Ohio Valley Foundry Co., stoves, etc., 45; Rodefer Bros., lamp globes, 125; AEtna Foundry &, Machine Shop, repair shop, etc., 13; AEtna Glass Manufacturing Co., 245. - State Report 1887. Population in 1880, 8,205; school census in 1886, 3,381 ; Benj. T. Jones, superintendent. The river plateau at Bellaire is about a third of a mile wide; upon it are the industries and most of the residences. The streets are broad and airy. The ascent of the river hills is easy, with the homes of the working people pleasantly perched thereon. The Baltimore and Ohio railroad follows the valley of McMahon's creek, a stream about six rods wide and entering the Ohio in the southern part of the town. The road crosses the Ohio by an iron bridge and across the town by a stone arcade of forty-three arches, rising and passing over several of the main streets at a height of thirty-five feet; it is a very picturesque feature of the city. The two, bridge and arcade unitedly, it is said, are about a mile long and cost over a million and a half of dollars. The valley of the Ohio, taking both sides for seven miles, is a great mannfacturing region and owes its prosperity primarily to the inexhaustible beds of coal in the valley hills, with limestone, building stone and fire-clay. On the West Virginia side is the city of Wheeling, with its 35,000 people, and suburb of Benwood directly opposite Bellaire. On the Ohio side is a line of towns for seven miles, beginning with Bellaire and continuing with Bridgeport and Martin's Ferry, bringing up the total population to 60,000 souls. So near are they that one may in a certain sense call it a single city with the Ohio dividing it. In the hills at Bellaire ten large coal mines are worked. On the Ohio side the dip of the coal is towards the mouth of the mines, thus giving the advantage of a natural drainage. At Bellaire the vein, "The Pittsburg," is 125 feet above the river at low stage and is worked from the surface. The inclination of the vein is twenty-two feet to the mile. The coal is discharged over screens into railroad cars drawn by mules. The dumping places are termed "tipples." The mines have two tipples each, one at the mouth of the mine and the other at the river bank so called because the coal cars are there tipped and emptied. Lombardy populars are a feature in the river towns of the upper Ohio, for which the soil and climate appear to be well adapted. Mingled with the rounding forms of the other trees and projected against the soft curves of distant hills, or standing on their slopes and summits, they dignify and greatly enhance the charms of a landscape. Their towering forms affect one with the same sombre emotion as the spires and pinnacles of Gothic architecture. The tree grows with great rapidity; its entire life only about forty years. The poplar trees shown in the picture of "The House that Jack Built," twenty-one in number, were slender saplings about fifteen feet long when set out in 1873, by the veteran miner; now are all of sixty or seventy feet. The worms at certain seasons commit depreciations upon them, when they look as scraggy as poultry divested of feathers. The selfish reason given for not planting trees, that one may not live to see them grow, does not apply to this tree. Such is the demand hereabouts for poplars that at Moundsville, on the opposite side of the river, the nursery of Mr. Harris makes a specialty of them. TRAVELLING NOTES. Decoration Day. - Bellaire has much to interest me. Saturday, May 29th, dawned in beauty. It was Decoration Day, and the people turned out in force; the veterans of the Grand Army, the children, boys and girls, in white, with music, wound up in long procession Cemetery hill, overlooking the city, hearing flags and flowers. Beautiful is young life, and never may there be wanting everywhere memorial days of some sort to feed the fires of patriotism in youthful hearts. Talk with a Veteran Riverman. - Capt. John Fink in his youthful days arose bright and early. He was smart, and so he got to Bellaire long before the town; indeed, officiated at its birth. He was born in Pennsylvania in 1805. Mike Fink, the last and most famous of the now long extinct race of Ohio and Mississippi river boatmen, was a relative, and he knew Mike - knew him as a boy knows a man. "When I was a lad," he told me, "about ten years of age, our family lived four miles above Wheeling, on the river. Mike laid up his boat near us, though he generally had two boats. This was his last trip, and he went away to the farther West; the country here was getting too civilized, and he was disgusted. This was about 1815. Mike Fink. - In the management of his business Mike was a rigid disciplinarian; woe to the man who shirked. He always had his woman along with him, and would allow no other man to converse with her. She was sometimes a subject for his wonderful skill in marksmanship with the rifle. He would compel her to hold on the top of her head a tin cup filled with whiskey, when he would put a bullet through it. Another of his feats was to make her hold it between her knees, as in a vice, and then shoot." Captain Fink's Own History - is a subject more pleasant for contemplation. He is a thoroughly manly man, and now,at eighty-one years of age, in the full vigor of intellect. From ten to twelve years of age he was at work on his uncle's farm, four miles above Wheeling from twelve to fifteen on the Wheeling ferry. Next he was cook on a keel-boat, where he learned to "push." He followed "pushing" for three years, first at thirty-seven and a half cents a day and then fifty cents. In 1824 he married, his entire fortune just seventy-five cents. A few days after he tried to get a calico dress for his wife on credit but failed. The Early Coal-Trade on the River. - About the year 1830, then twenty-five years of age, his credit having improved, Mr. Fink bought on time a piece of land on McMahon's creek, Bellaire and began mining. He built a flat-boat, and took a load of coal to Maysville, which netted him $200. This, he tells me, was the first load of coal ever floated any distance on the Ohio. After a little he began a coal-trade with New Orleans. He carted it to the river bank, put it on board of flat-boats, and floated it down to New Orleans, a distance of 2,100 miles. On a good stage of water they went down in about thirty days; once, on a flood, in nineteen days; half the time did not dare to land. He sold it to the sugar refineries, and it was very useful, for with wood alone they were unable to keep up the regular heat, so necessary for good sugar. They discharged a cargo by carrying it up on their shoulders in barrels. The way was to knock the hoops of a flour-barrel together at the ends to strengthen it, bore two holes through the top, through which a piece of rope was put, and tied as a bale; through this was thrust a pole, when two men canied it on their shoulders up the river bank; sometimes the river was higher than the town, then they descended. Each barrel held two and three-quarter bushels; weight, 220 pounds. The sugar people paid him $1.50 a barrel. During a term of years he sold several hundred thousand bushels. In 1833 he went into the steamboat business as captain and owner, and, amassing a fortune, in 1864, at the age of fifty-nine, he retired from active business. The Heatheringtons. - In his early mining operations here Capt. Fink found excellent help in the Heatheringtons, a family of English miners. They consisted of the father, John, and his four boys, Jacob, John, Jr., Ralph, Edward, and a John More. They worked in a coal-bank, in the hill south of McMahon's creek. They would get to work about daybreak, bring their coal to the mouth of the pit on wheelbarrows, empty their barrels over a board screen, and down it would go sliding to a lower level with a tremendous rattling noise, which travelled over the corn-fields and resounded among the hills around. At that time Bellaire was only a farming spot, and the farmers complained that the noise disturbed their morning sleep. After a while they became reconciled to this "eye-opener," for it brought money and business to the place, and the miners had to be fed - had bouncing appetites. The family were also musical; and evenings, after their days of toil, they brought out their musical instruments - fife, drum, clarionet, triangle, etc.- and the old man, John, and his four boys, Jake, John, Jr., Ralph, Ed., and John More gave the valley folks the best they had; so if the eye-openers had been a little hard on them, the night-caps made full compensation. Jacob Heatherington. - When I entered the lower end of Bellaire, in the cars along the river valley, I was struck by the grand appearance of a mansion under the hill, with a row of poplar trees before it. This, with the huge glass-houses with their big cupolas, and other industrial establishments of the place, the noble bridge across the Ohio, and the grandeur of the hill and river scenery, made an enduring impression. The owner of this palatial residence is Jacob, or, as he is commonly called, Jake Heatherington, one of the sons of the John of whom I have spoken. He is now an old and highly respected man of seventy-three years of age and with a large estate, but he cannot read nor write. The Miner and his Mule Partner. - He was born in England in 1814; at seven years of age was put to work down 2,400 feet deep in a coal-mine, and worked sixteen and eighteen hours a day; never went to school a day in his life. In 1837, when he was twenty-three years of age he rented a coal-bank from Capt. Fink, and bought eight acres of land on credit. This was his foundation, and it was solid, was indeed "the everlasting hills." At first he wheeled out his coal on a wheelbarrow; his business grew, and he took in a partner. The firm became known as Jake Heatherington and his mule Jack. For years he mined his own coal, and drove his faithful, silent, yet active partner, a little fellow, only about three feet and a half high. A strong affection grew up between them - a mule and a man - and so great was it that Jack rebelled when any one else attempted to drive him. From a few bushels per day the business increased to thousands, and Jake's coal fed the furnaces of scores of steamers. His possessions enlarged in various ways; his eight acres increased to over 800, he owned some thirty dwellings, shares in glass-works, and possessed steam boats. He could never read the names of his own boats as he saw them pass along the beautiful river sixty rods from his door ; but he didn't care, for he knew them by sight, and no more required their names on their sides for his use than he wanted painted on the side of his beloved mule, in staring letters, the word JACK! The House that Jack Built. - In 1870 he built his imposing residence, at a cost, it is said, of $35,000, and dedicated it to the memory of Jack. He always says it is "The House that Jack Built." His good fortune he ascribes to Jack but for his faithful services he never could have raised it. Over the doorway is a noble arch, the keystone of which is the projecting head of a mule, a likeness of Jack. When the house was built Jack was twenty-eight years old, retired from active business, sleek and fat; he did nothing but now and then cut off a few coupons. Jake Shows Jack his New House. - Then came the eventful day of his life. Jake brought him out from his retirement to show him the grand mansion he owed to him. In the presence of the assembled neighbors Jake led Jack up the steps under the splendid arch-way, and he followed him through the house, while he talked to him in the most loving and grateful way and showed him everything; all of which Jack fully understood as a mule understands a man. Jack lived many years after this in "otium cum dignitate." To be born is to eventually die; it is a mere question of time; with mules there is no exception. Then came Jack's last sickness; the most tender nursing was of no avail. The grief of Jake at Jack's demise was indescribable. To this day he goes with visitors, and points out his grave under an apple tree near his house, and talks of the virtues of the departed. His age was forty years and ten days; his appearance venerable, for time had whitened his entire body like unto snow. My Visit to Jake. - It was in the twilight of a Sunday evening that I called upon Jake Heatherington. I passed under the poplars and across the lawn to the mansion. The venerable man and his wife were seated, good Christian people as they are, on the doorstep, enjoying the close of the holy day as it rested in silence over the lovely hill-crowned valley. When I handed him my card, I happened to look up and saw the mule looking down, as if watching me. In a moment the old gentleman handed it back, saying: "You will please read it; I am not much of a scholar.'' ''No matter,'' I replied; ''talking was done before printing; I will talk." I passed an hour there, during which he gave me some of the incidents of his early life, as related. He is rather a small man, but fresh-looking and compactly built; just after the war he fell in a coal-boat and broke his hip, from which he still suffers. Although an unlettered man, he is of the quality that poets are made. While one’s risibilities are affected by the singular original demonstration of his regard for a brute, the tenderness of the sentiment touches the finer chords. The highest, the celestial truths are felt through the poetic sense; and true worship is that which demonstrates a yearning desire for the happiness; of even the humblest of God's creatures. "Love me, love my dog," was a thought in Paradise before it was a proverb on earth. BARNESVILLE, ninety-seven miles east of Columbus, and twenty miles west of the Ohio river, is on the O. C. R. R., and famous for its culture of strawberries and raspberries. Newspapers: Enterprise, Independent, George McCelland, publisher; Republican, Republican, Hanlon Bros. & Co., publishers. Churches: 1 Methodist Episcopal, 1 Presbyterian, 1 Christian, 1 African Methodist Episcopal, and 1 Friends. Banks: First Natioual, Asa Garretson, president, G.E. Bradfield, cashier; People's National, J. S. Ely, president, A. E. Dent, cashier. Large Manufactures. - Barnesville Glass Company, 131 hands; Watt Mining Car-Wheel Company, 42; George Atkinson, woollen-mill, 13; Heed Bros., cigars, 90; George E. Hunt, tailor, 18; Hanlon Bros., printing, 17. - State Report 1887; Population in 1880, 2,435. School census in 1886, 823; Henry L. Peck, superintendent.
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