Old Times on the Upper Mississippi
his ideas of duty. But the Captain's reverence and caution did
not save his boat, and she sank below La Crosse in the autumn
of 1854."
Two of the boats on which I served, the "Kate Cassell" and the "Fanny
Harris", while not of the slow class, yet were not ranked among the
fast ones; consequently we had many opportunities to pass opposition
boats under way, and to run away from boats that attempted to so
humiliate us.
There was a great difference in boats. Some were built for towing,
and these were fitted with engines powerful enough, if driven to
their full capacity, to run the boat under, when the boat had no
barges in tow. Other boats had not enough power to pull a shad off a
gridiron. It was the power that cost money. A boat intended solely
for freighting, and which consequently could take all the time there
was, in which to make the trip, did not require the boilers and
engines of a passenger packet in which speed was a prime factor in
gaining patronage.
There is great satisfaction in knowing that the boat you are steering
is just a little faster than the one ahead or behind you. There is
still more satisfaction in feeling, if you honestly can, that you are
just a little faster as a pilot than the man who is running the other
boat. The two combined guarantee, absolutely, a proper ending to any
trial of speed in which you may be engaged. Either one of them alone
may decide the race, as a fast pilot is able to take his boat over a
long course at a better rate of speed than a man not so well up in
his business. If both men are equally qualified, then it is certain
that the speediest boat will win.
What conditions determine the speed of two boats, all observable
terms being equal? Nobody knows. The "Key City" and the "Itasca" were
built for twins. Their lines, length, breadth, and depth of hold were
the same; they had the same number and size boilers, and the parts
of their engines were interchangeable; yet the "Key City" was from
one to three miles an hour the faster boat, with the same pilots at
the wheel. It was a fruitful topic for discussion on the river; but
experts never reached a more enlightening conclusion than, "Well, I
don't know". They didn't.
The boats of the old Minnesota Packet Company averaged better than
those of a later era. In the run from Prairie du Chien to St. Paul,
as noted above, the "Itasca" averaged twelve miles an hour, upstream,
handling all her freight and passengers. The schedule for the Diamond
Jo Line boats, in 1904, allowed eight miles an hour upstream, and
eleven downstream, handling freight and passengers.
Chapter XX
_Music and Art_
In the middle of the nineteenth century, many an artist whose
canvases found no market in the older cities, found ready bidders
for his brush, to decorate the thirty-foot paddle-boxes of the big
side-wheelers with figures of heroic size; or, with finer touch, to
embellish the cabins of Western steamboats with oil paintings in
every degree of merit and demerit.
The boat carrying my father and his family from Rock Island to
Prescott, upon my first appearance on the Father of Waters, was the
"Minnesota Belle". Her paddle-boxes were decorated with pictures
the same on each side, representing a beautiful girl, modestly and
becomingly clothed, and carrying in her arms a bundle of wheat ten
or twelve feet long, which she apparently had just reaped from some
Minnesota field. In her right hand she carried the reaping-hook with
which it was cut.
All the "Eagles" were adorned with greater than life-size portraits
of that noble bird. Apparently all were drawn from the same model,
whether the boat be a Grey-, Black-, Golden-, War-, or Spread-Eagle.
The "Northern Belle", also had a very good looking young woman
upon her paddle-boxes. Evidently she exhibited herself out of pure
self-satisfaction, for she had no sheaf of wheat, or any other
evidence of occupation. She was pretty, and she knew it.
The "General Brooke" showed the face and bust, in full regimentals,
of the doughty old Virginian for whom it was named.
Later, the "Phil Sheridan" boasted an heroic figure of Little Phil,
riding in a hurry from Winchester to the front, the hoofs of his
charger beating time to the double bass of the guns at Cedar Creek,
twenty miles away.
The "Minnesota" reproduced the coat-of-arms of the state whose
name she bore--the ploughman, the Indian, and the motto "L'étoile
du Nord". But the majority of the side-wheel boats boasted only a
sunburst on the paddle-boxes, outside of which, on the perimeter
of the wheel-house circle, was the legend showing to what line or
company the boat belonged. The sunburst afforded opportunity for the
artist to spread on colors, and usually the effect was pleasing and
harmonious.
It was the inside work wherein the artists in oil showed their skill.
Certainly there were many panels that showed the true artistic
touch. The "Northern Light", I remember, had in her forward cabin
representations of Dayton Bluff, St. Anthony Falls, Lover's Leap,
or Maiden Rock, drawn from nature, for which the artist was said to
have been paid a thousand dollars. They were in truth fine paintings,
being so adjudged by people who claimed to be competent critics. On
the other hand there were hundreds of panels--thousands, perhaps, in
the myriad of boats that first and last plied on the river--that were
the veriest daubs. These were the handiwork of the house painters who
thought they had a talent for higher things, and who had been given
free hand in the cabin to put their ambitions on record.
There was one case, however, which appealed to the humorous side of
every one who was fortunate enough to see it. It was not intended
that it should strike just this note. The artist who put it on
the broad panel over the office window of the little stern-wheel
"dinkey" from the Wabash, intended to convey a solemn note of warning
to all who might look upon it to flee temptation. As the painting
very nearly faced the bar, it required no very great stretch of
imagination to read into the picture the warning to beware of the
tempter, strong drink, particularly the brand served out on a Hoosier
packet hailing from the Wabash.
In the centre was a vividly-green apple tree, bearing big red fruit.
Our beloved Mother Eve, attired in a white cotton skirt that extended
from waist to knee, was delicately holding a red scarf over her left
shoulder and bosom. Confronting her was a wofully weak-minded Adam,
dressed in the conventional habit of a wealthy first century Hebrew.
The Satanic snake, wearing a knowing grin on his face, balanced
himself on the tip of his tail.
Thirty years or more after the little boat from the Wabash
introduced this artistic gem to travellers on the upper river, I
saw a copper-plate engraving two centuries old, from which the
Hoosier artist had painted his panel. It was all there, except the
colors--the tree, the apples, Eve in her scarf and skirt, Adam as a
respectable Hebrew gentleman, and Satan balanced on the turn of his
tail and leering with a devilish grin at the young woman who wanted
to know it all, and at the lily-livered Adam who then and there
surrendered his captaincy and has been running as mate ever since.
In the flush times on the river all sorts of inducements were offered
passengers to board the several boats for the up-river voyage. First
of all, perhaps, the speed of the boat was dwelt upon. It was always
past my comprehension why any one who paid one fare for the trip,
including board and lodging as long as he should be on the boat, and
who had three good, if not "elegant", meals served each day without
extra charge, should have been in such a hurry to get past the most
beautiful scenery to be found anywhere under the sun. I would like
nothing better than to take passage on the veriest plug that ever
made three miles an hour, and having full passage paid, dawdle along
for a week, and thus be enabled to enjoy in a leisurely manner, all
the beauties of river, bluff, and island.
After speed came elegance--"fast and elegant steamer"--was a favorite
phrase in the advertisement. An opportunity to study Eve and her
apple, instead of the wealth of beauty which the Almighty has strewn
broadcast over the Mississippi Valley, was an inducement carrying
weight with some. It was a matter of taste.
After elegance came music, and this spoke for itself. The styles
affected by river steamers ranged from a calliope on the roof to
a stringed orchestra in the cabin. My recollection is, that most
of us thought the name "calliope" was derived from some mechanical
appliance in connection with music, with which we were as yet
unfamiliar, the fame of Jupiter's daughter not yet having extended to
the headwaters of the Mississippi. The question as to what relation
this barbaric collection of steam whistles bears to the epic muse,
that it should have appropriated her name, is still an open question.
The "Excelsior", Captain Ward, was the first to introduce the "steam
piano" to a long-suffering passenger list. Plenty of people took
passage on the "Excelsior" in order to hear the calliope perform;
many of them, long before they reached St. Paul, wished they had not
come aboard, particularly if they were light sleepers. The river men
did not mind it much, as they were used to noises of all kinds, and
when they "turned in" made a business of sleeping. It was different
with most passengers, and a steam piano solo at three o'clock in
the morning was a little too much music for the money. After its
introduction on the "Excelsior", several other boats armed themselves
with this persuader of custom; but as none of them ever caught the
same passenger the second time, the machine went out of fashion.
Other boats tried brass bands; but while these attracted some custom
they were expensive, and came to be dropped as unprofitable.
The cabin orchestra was the cheapest and most enduring, as well as
the most popular drawing card. A band of six or eight colored men
who could play the violin, banjo, and guitar, and in addition sing
well, was always a good investment. These men were paid to do the
work of waiters, barbers, and baggagemen, and in addition were given
the privilege of passing the hat occasionally, and keeping all they
caught. They made good wages by this combination, and it also pleased
the passengers, who had no suspicion that the entire orchestra was
hired with the understanding that they were to play as ordered by
the captain or chief clerk, and that it was a strictly business
engagement. They also played for dances in the cabin, and at landings
sat on the guards and played to attract custom. It soon became
advertised abroad which boats carried the best orchestras, and such
lost nothing in the way of patronage.
Some of the older generation yet living, may have heard Ned Kendall
play the cornet. If not, they may have heard of him, for his fame
was at this time world-wide, as the greatest of all masters on his
favorite instrument. Like many another genius, strong drink mastered
him, and instead of holding vast audiences spell-bound in Eastern
theatres, as he had done, he sold his art to influence custom on an
Alton Line boat. It was my good fortune to have heard him two or