Search billions of records on Ancestry.com
   
From the History of Muhlenburg:
Douglass Little was the father of Judge Lucius P. Little, of Owensboro, who served as circuit judge from 1880 to 1893 in the Fourth District, and who has for many years been one of the prominent lawyers of Western Kentucky and who has long been regarded as one of the highest authorities on the State's history. He is the author of "Ben Hardin His Times and Contemporaries," and has in preparation "Old Stories of Green River and Its People."  
John G. Gooch was one of Rumsey's most interesting characters. He was a saddler by trade, and up to 1850, when he represented the county in the Legislature, spent much of his time in his shop, working at his trade and studying good books. He was one of the best-read men in the county, and was a devout and active churchman. When occasion arose where an orator was required to represent the citizens of this section of the Green River country, they invariably chose John G. Gooch. After he became a member of the State Legislature he began the study of law, and a few years later moved to Palestine, Texas, where he became a prominent lawyer.  
John Vickers, who represented Muhlenberg in the Legislature in 1848, lived three miles south of Rumsey, near Sacramento, now in McLean County. Although Sacramento was not incorporated and officially named until March 1, 1860, a store, it is said, had been opened there before 1835. One version has it that John Vickers, a "Forty-niner," returned from California about 1850, and was the first to propose the name Sacramento for the settlement at the cross-roads. In 1870 Sacramento's population was about 200, and in 1912 about 450.  
John Bender, a German by birth and also a "Forty-niner," lived at Sacramento in 1850 and later died there. He was a very intelligent and substantial citizen. He was a son-in-law of John Vickers. Honorable William B. Noe, the banker, who has as a lawyer long been at the head of the Calhoun bar, married the daughter of Mr. Bender.  
Among the old citizens of Rumsey in the '40s were Charles M. Baber, hotel-keeper and magistrate; William A. Eaves and Leander Mitchell, superintendents of the lock and dam; Woodford Mitchell and Henry Williams, merchants; John Robbins, wool manufacturer; John A. Murray, grocer, and Ephraim Baker, a justice.  
Richard H. Collins, in his "History of Kentucky" published in 1874, and in the reprints that follow, acknowledges his indebtedness for information regarding Muhlenberg County to "Joseph Ricketts and J. H. Pearson (who made a most beautiful map), of Muhlenburg county."  
In 1874 Joseph Rieketts was fifty-six years of age and had lived in Greenville for more than a quarter of a century. He was one of the bestknown lawyers in the Green River country. Collins' acknowledgment to "J. H. Pearson," and his reference to "a most beautiful map," is in all probability a mistake, and was intended to apply to some other county in Kentucky. At any rate, of the many persons I consulted in Muhlenberg--the Pearsons and others--none recall a man named J. H. Pearson, nor do any recall seeing a map that might have been made by either Pearson or Ricketts. Furthermore, in a search among the maps once owned by Collins, I failed to find one of Muhlenberg County. A map of the county, made years ago and showing some of the geographical details, even if somewhat inaccurate, would be worth preserving. As far as I have been able to ascertain, no such map, either in the form of a printed sheet or a pen-and-ink sketch, exists.2  
During the eourse of what follows in this chapter I quote all that Collins published under the head of Muhlenberg County in the edition printed in 1874, except the brief sketches of Generals Muhlenberg and Buell. To his statements I add a number of my own, and thus, in a way, extend his history down to our times.  
Richard H. Collins, in 1874, on Muhlenberg County, Quoted and Extended.  
Muhlenburg county--the 34th in order of formation--was established in 1798, out of parts of Logan and Christian, and named in honor of General Peter Muhlenberg. Its original territory is still intact, except the small northern portion taken in 1854 to help form MeLean county. It is situated in the southwestern middle portion of the state, and is bounded N. and N. E. by McLean and Ohio counties, from which it is separated by Green river; E. by Butler county, Big Muddy river being the dividing line; S. E. by Logan; S. by Todd and Christian; and W. by Hopkins county, the dividing line being Pond river. The surface of the county is generally rolling, part of it broken; the northern portion is good farming land, and all the county is fine grass land, and well timbered. The principal products are tobacco, corn, hay, and wool. Cattle and hogs are sold in large numbers to drovers. But the great wealth of the county is coal and iron.  
What is here referred to as Big Muddy River has for many years been known as Mud River. Although Muhlenberg is no longer "well timbered," much timber is still standing. Very large trees are now rare, and the few giants that still survive will in all probability soon be cut down and worked into lumber. However, much uncleared "cut-over" land, with its secondary timber and "second growth," is still to be found in the county. Reforestation and forest planting have not yet been attempted.  
The table of statisties of Kentucky, compiled by Collins from official reports, shows that during the year 1870 Muhlenberg produced 2,594,930 pounds of tobacco, 2,095 tons of hay, 484,580 bushels of corn, and 32,676 bushels of wheat. In 1870 there were 8,254 hogs (over six months old), 3,162 horses, 1,041 mules, and 5,166 cattle in the county. The valuation of taxable property was then $2,462,757; in 1846 it was $1,298,019, and in 1912 it was $4,365,446. The number of acres of land in 1870 is given by Collins as 253,543.  
Practically every farmer in the county raises tobacco. The annual yield since 1870 has always exceeded two and a half million pounds. Farmers now pay more attention to the raising of hay than heretofore. The corn crop is usually sufficient for the local demand. Muhlenberg has never produced enough wheat to supply the local demand for flour. Hogs and cattle are still extensively raised, but the number has not increased in proportion to the number of farms.  
The Elizabethtown & Paducah Railroad, now known as the Illinois Central Railroad, was finished in 1871, and therefore had been in operation only a few years when Collins published his sketch. A time-table, published in 1873, shows the following stations along this line in the county: Green River, Nelson Creek, Owensboro Junction, Greenville, and Gordon Station (Depoy). The Owensboro & Russellville Railroad, now a branch of the Louisville & Nashville, was built from Owensboro to Central City in 1872, and ten years later was extended to Russellville. The Madisonville, Hartford & Eastern Railroad was finished in 1910. The Kentucky Midland was begun in 1910. It is built as far as the new town of Midland, and will, it is said, soon connect Central City with Madisonville.  
Collins publishes data relative to seven of the towns that were in the county in 1874--Greenville, South Carrollton, Skilesville, Stroud City, Bremen, Paradise, and Airdrie:  
Greenville, the county seat, on the Elizabethtown and Paducah railroad, 135 miles from Louisville, 120 from Frankfort, and 35 from Hopkinsville, contains, besides the usual public buildings, 5 churches (Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian (Southern), Cumberland Presbyterian, and African), and 6 ministers, 12 lawyers, 4 physicians, 3 academies, 13 stores, 13 mechanics' shops, 3 hotels, 1 mill, 4 tobacco factories, 1 tannery; population in 1870, 557, and in 1873 estimated at 1,000; established in 1812, and named after Gen. Nathanael Greene.  
Greenville, although started in the spring of 1799 and serving from its beginning as the county seat, was through an oversight not officially "established" by the Legislature until thirteen years later, when it and seven other towns in the State, that had existed for a number of years, were "established" by an act passed January 6, 1812. Collins gives 120 miles as the distance from Frankfort to Greenville. This is doubtless a typographical error, and was intended to read 210 miles.  
Two opinions are now held regarding the origin of the name Greenville. On the one hand is the story that Mrs. Tabitha A. R. Campbell was so impressed with the expanse of green treetops, then extending in every direction from the hill selected for the location of the county seat, that she proposed the name Greenville, which was accepted. This version was supported by Mrs. Lucy Wing Yost, Judge Charles Eaves, and a few others who were well versed in the early traditions of the town. On the other hand there are oral and printed statements that the place was so called in honor of General Nathaniel Greene. After General Muhlenberg's name had been adopted for the county, the admirers of General Greene (so the story is told) endorsed the name of General Muhlenberg's friend and co-worker for the name of the county seat. At any rate, it is generally conceded that Greenville was so called in honor of General Greene.3  
Greenville is the oldest town in Muhlenberg. It has always been regarded as the main meeting and trading place for the people "out in the county." After the adoption of the State Constitution of 1891, Greenville, in November, 1892, elected its first mayor. The following have served as mayors of Greenville: William A. Wickliffe, 1893-1896; Doctor J. G. Bohannon, two terms, 1897-1904; and J. W. Lam, who began his first term on January 1, 1905, and is now serving his second term.  
South Carrollton, on W. bank of Green river, and on the Owenshoro and Russellville railroad, 10 miles from Greenville; has 8 stores, 3 churches, 4 physicians, 2 mills, 3 tobacco factories, 3 taverns, 7 mechanics' shops; population in 1870, 240, and increasing steadily; incorporated in 1846.  
South Carrollton was incorporated by an act approved February 23, 1849, and not in the year 1846, as stated by Collins. The town, however, was begun about the year 1838, and laid out by John Fentress on what was known as the "Randolph old farm," on which a tanyard had been operated for many years, near what is now known as the "Public Spring." Among the early citizens of South Carrollton were Bryant Bennett, Edmund M. Blacklock, James Carbon, Doctor Bryant Davis, John Fentress, Edmund Finch, N. B. Howard, S. Howell, Doctor A. M. Jackson, John Kittinger, Henderson Lovelace, Lewis McCown. Charles Morehead. sr., John Randolph, J. Edmunds Reno, and H. D. Rothrock.4Doctor J. T. Woodburn, 1912  
South Carrollton's first hotel was "White Hall" and its second "Our House" or "The Lovelace Tavern," both of which were in their day among the best-known places in the county. General Crittenden's army, as stated elsewhere in this history, was encamped in and near the town during the last half of January, 1862. It had a college for many years. Notwithstanding the fact that South Carrollton has the transportation facilities offered by a river and a railroad, the town has slowly decreased in business and population during the past twenty-five years.  
Skilesville, on S. bank of Green river, at lock and dam No. 3, 16 miles E. of Greenville, has 2 stores and a mill; population about 100; named after Jas. R. Skiles, who introduced the first steamboat upon Green river, and spent a fortune in promoting the navigation of the river.  
Skilesville was not incorporated until March 8, 1876, although the town had existed for more than forty years previous to that time. Methodist Episcopal Church, Central City By an act approved December 21, 1837, an election precinct was "established at the house of Richard Simons in the town of Skilesville in Muhlenberg county." A map of the town drawn by Jacob Luce was recorded in 1844 (Record Book No. 11, page 650). The Skilesville post-office was established, abandoned, and re?stablished a number of times. Since 1907 the people of this neighborhood have received their mail at Rochester or Knightsburg. James Rumsey Skiles was a citizen of Warren County. Judge Lucius P. Little, in his forthcoming history of the Green River country, will publish a sketch of the career of this early promoter of Green River navigation. Lock and Dam No. 3, or the Rochester Skilesville lock and dam, was opened in 1838.St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church, Central City, erected 1912  
Stroud City, at the crossing of the O. & R. and E. & P. railroads, 35 miles from Owensboro, is growing fast.Central City's first post-office (about 1871), as it appears to-day  
Stroud City, or Owensboro Junction, later became Central City. Before the days of the railroad the well-known Morehead's Horse Mili stood on the site laid out for the new town. "An act to establish and incorporate the town of Stroud City" was approved April 19, 1873. Legislative acts regarding the regulation of the town were passed March 17, 1876, and April 24, 1880. By an act approved February 11, 1882, the name was changed to Central City. The building used as the town's first post-office is still standing. On August 7, 1871, George G. Shaver was appointed the first postmaster of what was then known as Owensboro Junction. He was succeeded on August 21, 1872, by Willis Kittinger, who served for a few years. In March, 1913, Congress appropriated $7,500 for the purchase of a site for a Federal building in Central City, which the Government contemplates erecting within a few years. The Sandusky House, opened about 1878 and run by Captain William H. H. Sandusky, was for more than twenty-five years one of the best-known hotels in Kentucky along the line of the Illinois Central Railroad. Among other churches in Central City is St. Joseph's Church, which was erected in 1912 and is the only Roman Catholic church in the county. This congregation's first building was built in 1886, when Reverend M. F. Melody, then stationed at Leitchfield, was the priest-in-charge. Central City's first mayor was elected in November, 1892. The following have served as mayor of Central City: Doctor J. L. McDowell, 1893-1896; Doctor M. P. Creel, 1897-1900; Doctor W. R. McDowell, 1901-1904; W. D. McElhinny, 1905-1909; and Doctor J. T. Woodburn, who has served since January 1, 1910.5Broad Street, Central City  
Central City is the largest town in Muhlenberg. Since 1903 it has been the only place in the county where the sale of intoxicants is permitted. Relative to the early history of Central City the Muhlenberg Argus, on September 20, 1906, said:  
Central City was begun about 1870, when what is now the Illinois Central Railroad was being built. Coal mining followed shortly after. The farm owned by John Stroud, including the one adjoining, it which he bought from Charles S. Morehead and the farm owned by Joseph Settle, compose the principal part of the present (1906) site of Central City. Morehead ran a horse-mill for many years, and although it disappeared nearly forty years ago a few of the old citizens occasionally refer to the town as "Morehead's Horse Mill." In 1876 there were a few houses along the Greenville and South Carrollton dirt road, and in fact until about 1888 the principal business part of town was along that road, then and now known as Water Street. The old house where the first post-office was kept is still standing on the Greenville Road. Jonathan and Willis Kittinger kept a post-office and store in this building in the early '70s. One night, robbers broke in and hauled the entire stock away, but who they were has not been learned to this day.  
Bremen, 14 miles from Greenville, has 2 stores and 2 tobacco factories; population about 75; incorporated in 1869.H. D. Rothrock, 1870  
Bremen post-office was originally established about 1825, in a residence on the Greenville and Rumsey Road near the McLean County line. About 1860 it was moved to Andrew Bennett's store and blacksmith shop, where the town of Bremen now stands; what was sometimes called Bennettsville became known as Bremen.  
It was pioneer Peter Shaver who, in honor of his father's birthplace, Bremen, Germany, and in honor of the German-American pioneers of Muhlenberg, secured this appropriate name for a place in the county. As stated elsewhere, although the German-American pioneers of Muhlenberg are to-day represented by many descendants, all traces of the German language, manners, and customs disappeared a few generations ago, not only from the Bremen country--which was for many years called the "Dutch Settlement"--but also from other sections in which pioneers of German descent had settled.  
The Black Lake country lies east and northeast of Bremen. The soil of the so-called Black Lake swamps is regarded by many as the richest in the county, and its reclamation by drainage is now being considered by the citizens of Bremen and the Black Lake country. When this has been accomplished and the cypress and other swampland trees have been cleared away, then, as Harry M. Dean, of Greenville (who spent his boyhood in the Black Lake country), expresses it in his beautiful poem, "The Cypress Trees," this soil "that's black and deep" will be in condition "that men may sow and reap." The poem referred to was first printed in the Greenville Record on December 7, 1911, and has since been reprinted in many papers.  
The Cypress Trees.  
We sentinel the lone waste places Of swamps that are low and dim; Line on line for the conflict, Tall and silent and grim. In the dawn of that far-off morning We stood in serried lines-- The trees all clustered together, And next to us stood the pines. But great was the Master's cunning-- A wisdom no man may know; So He sends the pines to the uplands, While we to the swamps must go.  
Mystic and brooding and silent, Huddled together we stand; Pickets in reedy marshes, Guards of this lone, low land. Dark are the aisles of our forests, Tangled with briars and vines; Few there be who can know us, Few who can read our signs. The lone owl broods in our branches, The brown snakes come and go, And still we whisper a secret No man shall ever know.  
Tall and mystic and brooding, Waiting the long years through; Men drive us away from the swampland, But we come to the swampland anew. For here we're master builders, Lifting the soil from the slime; Holding the drifts in decaying, Bringing the earth to its prime. Turning the low waste spaces To soil that's black and deep, Until we are cleared from our places That men may sow and reap.  
Harry M. Dean.  
Paradise, on Green river, 10 miles above (S. E. of) South Carrollton, in N. E. part of county; population about 300; has 4 stores and 2 tobacco factories; incorporated in 1856.  
Paradise was not incorporated until March 10, 1856, which was more than half a century after the town had been settled. For a few years after the Mexican War it was sometimes referred to as Monterey. A deed recorded in 1854 incidentally states that Paradise then had an area of thirteen acres. A plat drawn in 1871 shows an increase to twenty-six and one fourth acres. Although a few acres have been added to its limits, the population has slowly decreased since 1875. Its location and age make Paradise one of the most undisturbed and interesting villages along Green River.Black Lake and Cypress Trees, Near Bremen  
Airdrie, on Green river, 17 miles from Greenville; population about 200, largely engaged in mining coal; incorporated in 1858.  
Airdrie sprang into existence in 1854, and was on the point of being abandoned by many of the original citizens when, on February 17, 1858, the town was incorporated. Except during a few years, the people of Airdrie received their mail at Paradise. The old furnace, built in 1855, long ago became a picturesque ruin, and the house occupied for many years by General Buell was burned to the ground in 1907. A history of Airdrie is given in the chapter on "Paradise Country and Old Airdrie."  
now the third largest town in the county, was not in ex?? 1874, Collins published the above-quoted data on the towns. About 1882, or about the time the Owensboro & Russell?? ??is buit, Frank M. Rice began a store near what is now the ??formed the nucleus of a village which for a few years was ??le. On February 21, 1888, the place was incorporated by legislature and its name changed to Drakesboro, in honor ??e, who lived in that neighborhood for many years and died ??se still standing near the town known as the Bill Drake ??ong other first-comers in this region was Bryant Cundiff. ??town had a population of about two hundred. During the years it has increased to about twelve hundred. Much of progress is due to the work and influence of such men as ??, who in 1888 opened the Black Diamond Mine in the new since been at the head of its affairs; William W. Bridges, connected with the Black Diamond Mining Company since ??s organization; Doctor Jefferson D. Cundiff, who has lost ??to contribute to the town's medical, educational, and com?? and B. Frank Green, who as cashier of the Citizens Bank financial interests of the citizens of the town and the Drakes??  
?? towns commented on by Collins, all had post-offices in 1874 ??le and Airdrie. There were eleven post-offices in the county The other six were: Earles, which was maintained in the residence until about 1860, when the office was moved two ??the store of Thomas C. Summers, where it was continued ??name of Earles until 1910, when, after rural free delivery was established, the post-office was abandoned; Laurel Bluff, ??ted on the Greenville Road about two miles from Dunmor ??post-office was abolished when Home Valley was established, ??ley was later changed to Albritton and is now known as ??er and Nelson Station post-offices, which were then where ??Painstown, which was about two miles east of Nelson Staton, which was a small mining town on Green River about five ??radise.  
??well to add that about the middle of the last century there ??e in the Harpe's Hill country known as Unity, one at the ??ary place called Ellwood or McNary's, one at Clark's Ferry River Mills, and one on Clifty Creek east of Cisney, near the ??ent, called Sulphur Springs. During 1884, and a few years ??er, a post-office was maintained in the Bethel Church neigh?? Greenville and Rumsey Road, called Bertram, and one near ??called Paceton.  
??County now has thirty-four post-offices, eight star mail ??r rural free delivery routes. The star routes run: from Weir ??eight miles; from Haley's Mill, Christian County, via Bancroft ??eighteen miles; from Cisney to Yost. seven miles; from ??tler County, via Knightsburg and Ennis to Yost, nine and a half miles; from Wells to Yost, six and a fourth miles; from Penrod, via Gus, to Huntsville, Butler County, ten miles; from Beech Creek to Browder, two miles; and from Rochester, via boat to Paradise and Rockport, fifteen miles. There are three star routes from Dunmor into Butler and Todd counties. The rural free delivery routes run: No. 1, Greenville, Greenville to Earles, returning via Harpe's Hill, established in 1910, was the first in the county; No. 1, Central City, Central City to Gishton and Bethel Church, returning via Cherry Hill Church; No. 1, Bremen, extending from Bremen northeast into McLean County, returning via Millport; No. 2, Bremen, Bremen to Gishton and Earles, returning via Isaac's Creek and Briar Creek.  
Most of the first-comers received their mail at Greenville, Worthington, or Lewisburg, or at "Hunt Settlement" or some of the other settlements.  
Post-Offices in Muhlenberg County. In 1830, 1840, 1850, 1860, 1874, 1884, and 1912.  
1830. Bremen. Greenville. Lewisburgh. McNarys. Mill Port. Worthington.  
1840. Bremen. Greenville. Lewisburgh. McNarys. Rumsey. Skilesville. Worthington.  
1850. Bremen. Ellwood. Greenville. Rumsey. South Carrollton. Unity. Worthington.  
=======
Skilesville was not incorporated until March 8, 1876, although the town had existed for more than forty years previous to that time. Methodist Episcopal Church, Central City By an act approved December 21, 1837, an election precinct was "established at the house of Richard Simons in the town of Skilesville in Muhlenberg county." A map of the town drawn by Jacob Luce was recorded in 1844 (Record Book No. 11, page 650). The Skilesville post-office was established, abandoned, and re?stablished a number of times. Since 1907 the people of this neighborhood have received their mail at Rochester or Knightsburg. James Rumsey Skiles was a citizen of Warren County. Judge Lucius P. Little, in his forthcoming history of the Green River country, will publish a sketch of the career of this early promoter of Green River navigation. Lock and Dam No. 3, or the Rochester Skilesville lock and dam, was opened in 1838.St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church, Central City, erected 1912  
Stroud City, at the crossing of the O. & R. and E. & P. railroads, 35 miles from Owensboro, is growing fast.Central City's first post-office (about 1871), as it appears to-day  
Stroud City, or Owensboro Junction, later became Central City. Before the days of the railroad the well-known Morehead's Horse Mili stood on the site laid out for the new town. "An act to establish and incorporate the town of Stroud City" was approved April 19, 1873. Legislative acts regarding the regulation of the town were passed March 17, 1876, and April 24, 1880. By an act approved February 11, 1882, the name was changed to Central City. The building used as the town's first post-office is still standing. On August 7, 1871, George G. Shaver was appointed the first postmaster of what was then known as Owensboro Junction. He was succeeded on August 21, 1872, by Willis Kittinger, who served for a few years. In March, 1913, Congress appropriated $7,500 for the purchase of a site for a Federal building in Central City, which the Government contemplates erecting within a few years. The Sandusky House, opened about 1878 and run by Captain William H. H. Sandusky, was for more than twenty-five years one of the best-known hotels in Kentucky along the line of the Illinois Central Railroad. Among other churches in Central City is St. Joseph's Church, which was erected in 1912 and is the only Roman Catholic church in the county. This congregation's first building was built in 1886, when Reverend M. F. Melody, then stationed at Leitchfield, was the priest-in-charge. Central City's first mayor was elected in November, 1892. The following have served as mayor of Central City: Doctor J. L. McDowell, 1893-1896; Doctor M. P. Creel, 1897-1900; Doctor W. R. McDowell, 1901-1904; W. D. McElhinny, 1905-1909; and Doctor J. T. Woodburn, who has served since January 1, 1910.5Broad Street, Central City  
Central City is the largest town in Muhlenberg. Since 1903 it has been the only place in the county where the sale of intoxicants is permitted. Relative to the early history of Central City the Muhlenberg Argus, on September 20, 1906, said:  
Central City was begun about 1870, when what is now the Illinois Central Railroad was being built. Coal mining followed shortly after. The farm owned by John Stroud, including the one adjoining, it which he bought from Charles S. Morehead and the farm owned by Joseph Settle, compose the principal part of the present (1906) site of Central City. Morehead ran a horse-mill for many years, and although it disappeared nearly forty years ago a few of the old citizens occasionally refer to the town as "Morehead's Horse Mill." In 1876 there were a few houses along the Greenville and South Carrollton dirt road, and in fact until about 1888 the principal business part of town was along that road, then and now known as Water Street. The old house where the first post-office was kept is still standing on the Greenville Road. Jonathan and Willis Kittinger kept a post-office and store in this building in the early '70s. One night, robbers broke in and hauled the entire stock away, but who they were has not been learned to this day.  
Bremen, 14 miles from Greenville, has 2 stores and 2 tobacco factories; population about 75; incorporated in 1869.H. D. Rothrock, 1870  
Bremen post-office was originally established about 1825, in a residence on the Greenville and Rumsey Road near the McLean County line. About 1860 it was moved to Andrew Bennett's store and blacksmith shop, where the town of Bremen now stands; what was sometimes called Bennettsville became known as Bremen.  
It was pioneer Peter Shaver who, in honor of his father's birthplace, Bremen, Germany, and in honor of the German-American pioneers of Muhlenberg, secured this appropriate name for a place in the county. As stated elsewhere, although the German-American pioneers of Muhlenberg are to-day represented by many descendants, all traces of the German language, manners, and customs disappeared a few generations ago, not only from the Bremen country--which was for many years called the "Dutch Settlement"--but also from other sections in which pioneers of German descent had settled.  
The Black Lake country lies east and northeast of Bremen. The soil of the so-called Black Lake swamps is regarded by many as the richest in the county, and its reclamation by drainage is now being considered by the citizens of Bremen and the Black Lake country. When this has been accomplished and the cypress and other swampland trees have been cleared away, then, as Harry M. Dean, of Greenville (who spent his boyhood in the Black Lake country), expresses it in his beautiful poem, "The Cypress Trees," this soil "that's black and deep" will be in condition "that men may sow and reap." The poem referred to was first printed in the Greenville Record on December 7, 1911, and has since been reprinted in many papers.  
The Cypress Trees.  
We sentinel the lone waste places Of swamps that are low and dim; Line on line for the conflict, Tall and silent and grim. In the dawn of that far-off morning We stood in serried lines-- The trees all clustered together, And next to us stood the pines. But great was the Master's cunning-- A wisdom no man may know; So He sends the pines to the uplands, While we to the swamps must go.  
Mystic and brooding and silent, Huddled together we stand; Pickets in reedy marshes, Guards of this lone, low land. Dark are the aisles of our forests, Tangled with briars and vines; Few there be who can know us, Few who can read our signs. The lone owl broods in our branches, The brown snakes come and go, And still we whisper a secret No man shall ever know.  
Tall and mystic and brooding, Waiting the long years through; Men drive us away from the swampland, But we come to the swampland anew. For here we're master builders, Lifting the soil from the slime; Holding the drifts in decaying, Bringing the earth to its prime. Turning the low waste spaces To soil that's black and deep, Until we are cleared from our places That men may sow and reap.  
Harry M. Dean.  
Paradise, on Green river, 10 miles above (S. E. of) South Carrollton, in N. E. part of county; population about 300; has 4 stores and 2 tobacco factories; incorporated in 1856.  
Paradise was not incorporated until March 10, 1856, which was more than half a century after the town had been settled. For a few years after the Mexican War it was sometimes referred to as Monterey. A deed recorded in 1854 incidentally states that Paradise then had an area of thirteen acres. A plat drawn in 1871 shows an increase to twenty-six and one fourth acres. Although a few acres have been added to its limits, the population has slowly decreased since 1875. Its location and age make Paradise one of the most undisturbed and interesting villages along Green River.Black Lake and Cypress Trees, Near Bremen  
Airdrie, on Green river, 17 miles from Greenville; population about 200, largely engaged in mining coal; incorporated in 1858.  
Airdrie sprang into existence in 1854, and was on the point of being abandoned by many of the original citizens when, on February 17, 1858, the town was incorporated. Except during a few years, the people of Airdrie received their mail at Paradise. The old furnace, built in 1855, long ago became a picturesque ruin, and the house occupied for many years by General Buell was burned to the ground in 1907. A history of Airdrie is given in the chapter on "Paradise Country and Old Airdrie."  
now the third largest town in the county, was not in ex?? 1874, Collins published the above-quoted data on the towns. About 1882, or about the time the Owensboro & Russell?? ??is buit, Frank M. Rice began a store near what is now the ??formed the nucleus of a village which for a few years was ??le. On February 21, 1888, the place was incorporated by legislature and its name changed to Drakesboro, in honor ??e, who lived in that neighborhood for many years and died ??se still standing near the town known as the Bill Drake ??ong other first-comers in this region was Bryant Cundiff. ??town had a population of about two hundred. During the years it has increased to about twelve hundred. Much of progress is due to the work and influence of such men as ??, who in 1888 opened the Black Diamond Mine in the new since been at the head of its affairs; William W. Bridges, connected with the Black Diamond Mining Company since ??s organization; Doctor Jefferson D. Cundiff, who has lost ??to contribute to the town's medical, educational, and com?? and B. Frank Green, who as cashier of the Citizens Bank financial interests of the citizens of the town and the Drakes??  
?? towns commented on by Collins, all had post-offices in 1874 ??le and Airdrie. There were eleven post-offices in the county The other six were: Earles, which was maintained in the residence until about 1860, when the office was moved two ??the store of Thomas C. Summers, where it was continued ??name of Earles until 1910, when, after rural free delivery was established, the post-office was abandoned; Laurel Bluff, ??ted on the Greenville Road about two miles from Dunmor ??post-office was abolished when Home Valley was established, ??ley was later changed to Albritton and is now known as ??er and Nelson Station post-offices, which were then where ??Painstown, which was about two miles east of Nelson Staton, which was a small mining town on Green River about five ??radise.  
??well to add that about the middle of the last century there ??e in the Harpe's Hill country known as Unity, one at the ??ary place called Ellwood or McNary's, one at Clark's Ferry River Mills, and one on Clifty Creek east of Cisney, near the ??ent, called Sulphur Springs. During 1884, and a few years ??er, a post-office was maintained in the Bethel Church neigh?? Greenville and Rumsey Road, called Bertram, and one near ??called Paceton.  
??County now has thirty-four post-offices, eight star mail ??r rural free delivery routes. The star routes run: from Weir ??eight miles; from Haley's Mill, Christian County, via Bancroft ??eighteen miles; from Cisney to Yost. seven miles; from ??tler County, via Knightsburg and Ennis to Yost, nine and a half miles; from Wells to Yost, six and a fourth miles; from Penrod, via Gus, to Huntsville, Butler County, ten miles; from Beech Creek to Browder, two miles; and from Rochester, via boat to Paradise and Rockport, fifteen miles. There are three star routes from Dunmor into Butler and Todd counties. The rural free delivery routes run: No. 1, Greenville, Greenville to Earles, returning via Harpe's Hill, established in 1910, was the first in the county; No. 1, Central City, Central City to Gishton and Bethel Church, returning via Cherry Hill Church; No. 1, Bremen, extending from Bremen northeast into McLean County, returning via Millport; No. 2, Bremen, Bremen to Gishton and Earles, returning via Isaac's Creek and Briar Creek.  
Most of the first-comers received their mail at Greenville, Worthington, or Lewisburg, or at "Hunt Settlement" or some of the other settlements.  
Post-Offices in Muhlenberg County. In 1830, 1840, 1850, 1860, 1874, 1884, and 1912.  
1830. Bremen. Greenville. Lewisburgh. McNarys. Mill Port. Worthington.  
1840. Bremen. Greenville. Lewisburgh. McNarys. Rumsey. Skilesville. Worthington.  
1850. Bremen. Ellwood. Greenville. Rumsey. South Carrollton. Unity. Worthington.  
1860. Earles. Ellwood. Greenville. Laurel Bluff. Lead Hill. Model Mills. Pond River Mills. South Carrollton. Sulphur Springs. Paradise.  
1874. Bremen. Earles. Greenville. Laurel Bluff. Mercer Station. Nelson. Owensboro Junction. Painstown. Paradise. Riverside. South Carrollton.  
1884. Albrittain. Bertram. Bevier. Central City. Dunmor. Earles. Greenville. McNary. Mercer Station. Nelson. Paceton. Paradise. Ricedale. South Carrollton. Yost.  
1912. Bancroft. Beech Creek. Bevier. Bremen. Browder. Brucken. Central City. Cisney. Cleaton. Depoy. Drakesboro. Dunmor. Ennis. Gishton. Graham. Greenville. Gus. Hillside. Knightsburg. Luzerne. McNary. Martwick. Mercer. Midland. Millport. Moorman. Nelson. Paradise. Penrod. Powderly. South Carrollton. Weir. Wells. Yost.  
Population of Towns in Muhlenberg County, as Given by the Census Reports from 1870 to 1910.  
Town 1910 1900 1890 1880 1870  
Central City 2,545 1,348 1,144  
Greenville 1,604 1,051 968 866 557  
Drakesboro 1,126 228  
South Carrollton 365 452 525 493 240  
Bremen 254 180  
Dunmor 138 77 82  
Paradise 91 107 137  
Rosewood 89 82  
Penrod 68 80 72  
Skilesville 53 87 85Main Street, Drakesboro  
Population of Muhlenberg County, as Given by the Census Reports from 1800 to 1910.  
Year White Free Colored Slaves Total  
1800 1,313 5 125 1,443  
1810 3,698 3 480 4,181  
1820 4,302 2 675 4,979  
1830 4,327 15 998 5,340  
1840 5,755 13 1,196 6,964  
====
Noman in Western Kentucky stands higher as a citizen, lawyer, or student of literature and history than does Judge Lucius P. Little. In "Ben Hardin, His Times and Contemporaries," published in 1887, he wrote one of the best contributions ever printed bearing on the history of Kentucky from 1784 to 1852. He now has in course of preparation "Old Stories of Green River and Its People," which will appear during 1914. I have read the manuscript, and am confident that this book will take rank as one of the best written and most valuable histories of any of those concerning any section of the State. Judge Little was born in Calhoun February 15, 1838. He was graduated from the Law Department of Cumberland University, Lebanon, Tennessee, in 1857, and in 1868 moved to Owensboro, where he has since resided and where he has long stood at the head of his fellow lawyers. From 1880 to 1893 he served as circuit judge. He is a member of the Investigators' Club (Owensboro's literary and historical club) and the Kentucky State Historical Society. The following sketch was written by Judge Little in 1912, especially for this history.  
"Riding the Circuit."  
The custom of the old-time lawyers in Kentucky of "riding the circuit" was almost coeval with the admission of the State into the Federal Union, and continued to the end of the fifties. After the Civil War ended, the increase of the local bar in numbers and in reputation as practitioners caused the custom gradually to decline.  
While the custom was in vogue, on the Sunday before the beginning of a term of court the presiding judge, usually accompanied by the prosecuting attorney and a retinue of lawyers more or less numerous, mounted on horseback, might be seen entering the county town, destined for the principal tavern, not unlike an unarmed troop of cavalry. This might fitly be termed the "grand entry," and following it there quickly gathered about the inn a respectable number of the principal citizens, to greet the distinguished guests. After the first arrivals others followed, in parties of twos or threes or one by one. By nightfall the leading tavern was taxed to its utmost capacity.  
The following morning, the first day of the term, the courthouse bell was rung vigorously at eight o'clock, and shortly thereafter the high sheriff proclaimed at the front door to the listening world the thrilling shibboleth, usual on such occasions: "O yez! O yez! The Circuit Court for Muhlenberg County is now in session! Let all persons having business therein draw near and be heard! God save the Commonwealth and this Honorable Court!" (This old preliminary formula has fallen into disuse, and unfortunately a neglected Deity has not always saved the Common wealth from the enemies of law and order or protected the eminent judges who have presided over its courts.)  
On entering the court room, all seats inside the bar are largely found already occupied by the unprivileged classes. The sheriff, however, gives the peremptory order that all persons not lawyers and officers of court are requested to retire from the bar, which mandate is quickly obeyed. Persons summoned as jurors and others (ready to be summoned) seek seats in easy earshot of any call of their names. Parties, witnesses, and mere lookers-on soon fill all remaining seats.  
The judge has already taken what in legal parlance is "the bench," but which in reality is an easy chair behind a desk, which to the unsophistieated is strikingly like a pulpit. The clerk, sheriff, and jailer betake themseives to their respective posts and to the discharge of their several functions. At last the honorable court is opened in due form, and those having business therein draw near and (as opportunity offers) proceed to make themselves heard.  
The particular term of court now to be mentioned occurred in the year 1859, when Honorable Thomas C. Dabney was judge of the district and Ed Campbell prosecuting attorney. The resident attorneys at that time were Charles Eaves, Jonathan Short, Joseph Ricketts, John Chapeze, B. E. Pittman, Edward R. Weir, sr., and Mortimer D. Hay. At the head of this roll, by extent of practice, long experience, and profound learning, easily stood Charles Eaves, then in the full vigor of manhood. The youngest member, familiarly called "Mort" Hay, was tall and slender, with a quick and bright mind, already giving assurance of the talents and ability for which he was subsequently distinguished in a career terminated by an untimely death. The visiting lawyers that term were Honorable B. L. D. Guffy, of Morgantown, who was later to occupy a seat on the Court of Appeals bench; Washington Ewing, of Russellville, sprung of a family distinguished for its talents; H. G. Petree, Samuel Kennedy, and Francis Bristow, from Elkton--and sometimes came also the latter's son Benjamin, physically strong and burly and of striking appearance, but not so widely distinguished then as to cause the subsequent inquiry, "Is there not good presidential timber produced in Elkton?" From the Daviess County bar answered John H. McHenry, sr., and William Anthony, both names very familiar in the region at that day. McLean County was also represented by two young lawyers who, having some business in court that term, were in attendance. One of these was the late William T. Owen, afterward for two terms circuit judge of his district. Each of these had secured two of Culver's best rigs for the trip--not, as it may be well to explain, that they necessarily required two separate conveyances for the thirty miles from Calhoun to Greenville, but because each had had the good fortune to secure as comrade for the journey two of the prettiest girls of that town. It is recalled that, on the bright day they fared forth, the two young gentlemen were arrayed in the height of the fashion of that time, but so clad that they would be a sight to the beholders in these later days. Picture them! Long hair, silk hats, swallow-tail coats, low-cut vests, close-fitting trousers, and low-quarter shoes, with white hose! Neither in that day nor at any time since, in Kentucky, has there ever been any discount on a pretty girl because of her raiment, but on this day these were charmingly gowned.  
The weather was faultless, and the long, hot lanes were fewer than now. For the most part the road on either side was bordered by woodland, the scenery and fragrance of which would beggar the language that might attempt to describe it. It is better to forget the exquisite pleasure of such bright days in the dim light of the somberer and quieter ones that came later. The road, at one point, wound by a clearing where the timber had been cut away and the brush placed in piles for burning later. There an incident occurred worthy of note. A blacksnake, technically known as a "racer," six to seven feet in length, was discovered in the road by Owen, who was in advance. His fair companion expressed some girlish alarm, whereupon with becoming gallantry he leaped from the buggy and with whip in hand lashed the "racer" as he fled out through the clearing. After a chase of seventy-five yards the snake hid himself in a brush-pile, and Owen, exhilarated by the exercise, started to return. The snake, encouraged by the retreat of his pursuer, came forth, and with head erect nearly two feet made a good second on the return, although the young man did his best. Turning on the snake again and hitting him whenever in reach, the race out through the clearing was repeated, and the snake again sought refuge and again chased his pursuer. This performance was kept up without variation until four or five heats had been run. Meantime his traveling companion--secure from danger in the buggy--and the occupants of the other vehicle, had laughed and wept and laughed again. But Owen got excessively warm and was fairly outwinded, while the "racer" showed a discouraging degree of "bottom." By finally crawling into his buggy backwards, meanwhile demonstrating with his whip, he managed to terminate the unequal contest. Docet hic fabula if a beau wishes to show his mettle before the fair, he should beware of contests with "racers."  
In the soft twilight of the day the journey ended. Having left their traveling companions with expectant friends, the attorneys found lodging at Captain Bob Russell's somewhat overcrowded hotel. The landlord was a large, portly man of fine presence, quite as dignified as any of his distinguished guests, with all of whom he maintained an easy familiarity. He carried a stout walking-cane as he mingled with his lodgers, discharging the duties of hospitality. His colloquial abilities were above the common, and he was not at loss whatever the topie. His stores of incident and anecdote were inexhaustible, and he gave his friends little opportunity for considering whether the accommodations of the house might not be amended in certain directions. He had honorably served his country in war and in peace in former years, and was still a valuable man in that quarter to the political party with which he affiliated.  
The hotel building stood near the courthouse. It was a low, two-storied affair, with a few bed-chambers and these in the second story, but each large enough for three or four beds, and each bed was designed to accommodate two persons. The writer recalls that when he awoke at about four o'clock the first morning of his stay in Greenville, he beheld a large, fleshy, elderly man engaged in shaving a large area of fleshy face as with closed eyes he sat ponderously in a chair. (This was before the era of safety razors.)  
"Mr. McHenry, how can you shave without a mirror?" inquired the freshly awakened young lawyer.  
"I am not in the habit of using a mirror, and can shave just as readily without one," was the answer.  
It was fortunate in his case, as our room in this respect was unfurnished, and the single candle in the bedroom shedding a radiance somewhat uncertain. It was also a provident arrangement of nature that morning that all the occupants of our chamber did not care to arise and dress at the same time; that operation was performed in detachments. The limited floor space forbade any other course. There was no ceiling or plaster beneath, and because of this the landlord was enabled with his cane to knock on our floor from time to time, as a warning that breakfast was about ready. All embarrassments were happily overcome, the morning meal dispatched, and the gentlemen of the bar were ready in due time for the opening of court.  
One of the important cases to be tried was that of Arch Rutherford, charged with the murder of a man named Stark, in Todd County. After being indicted in Todd the defendant had procured a change of venue to Muhlenberg. The evidence in the case was circumstantial, and while the circumstances had been comparatively few they had been sufficient to lead to the conclusion on the part of the public generally-that the accused was the guilty man, and that his motive had been robbery. A twenty-dollar bill which had been paid to Stark the day before the murder (which had occurred at night) was marked. It was found in possession of Rutherford and identified by the man who had paid it to Stark. The accused owned and was accustomed to ride a horse which, in motion, made a peculiar noise known as "rattling of the sheath." It was in proof at the trial that a horse making this peculiar noise was heard, on the night of the murder, to pass through the town of Elkton from Rutherford's residence, going in the direction of the place where Stark resided, and also that a short time afterward the horse was heard returning going toward defendant's residence. It was also made to appear that, in passing and repassing through town, the horse had been ridden in a gallop, and that next day he showed signs of having been recently hard ridden.  
Honorable Francis Bristow was chief counsel for the accused. Mr. Campbell conducted the prosecution. The jury that tried the case returned a verdict of guilty, and sentence of death was pronounced. An appeal was prosecuted, and the judgment was reversed in the Court of Appeals and the case remanded for a new trial. While awaiting another trial the prisoner escaped from jail and was never afterward apprehended. Tradition has it that he fled to Texas, and during a long residence in that State accumulated considerable property and that he died there, but the date of his death is unknown.  
At the same term there was also pending a case against S. P. Love, charged with killing Wesley M. Little at South Carrollton on August 16, 1857. The circumstances of the killing were that Love and Little, both residing in South Carrollton, became embroiled in a personal difficulty growing out of polities. Little kept a hotel in the town and was an active local politician. In a public speech he had denounced a statement made by Love as untrue. Early one Sunday morning, shortly afterward, Little, while standing alone in front of his hotel, was instantly killed by a shot in the back, fired by some one in concealment in the second story of a house across the street. Love was arrested and indicted for murder. At the autumn term of 1859 the case was tried, but the jury failed to agree. It was afterward continued from term to term until the outbreak of the Civil War. Love, meantime, joined the Federal army and during the war underwent final trial, which resulted in his acquittal.  
Over half a century has gone by since the term of court herein referred to. More pages have been written in American history in that interval than in all the preceding years since Columbus first laid longing eyes on the palm trees of the West Indian island. In very truth old times have passed away, and behold all things are become new.  
To one who saw Greenville and its people then, there are many things he would miss if he looked for them now. The portly and dignified landlord of Russell's Tavern has long slept in the silent grave. The small, old-fashioned courthouse has been supplanted by a stately edifice, the architectural graces of which entitle it to be called the Temple of Justice. The gentle Dabney has long since ceased to preside there, but has without fear answered the call of another Judge. Campbell, the prosecutor, is no longer a terror to evildoers, but has received the reward due a just man, and has claimed his right to be heard by that merciful Advocate who pleads for us all. Charles Eaves, when he left this world, took from it a store of legal knowledge possessed but rarely by any lawyer of his day and generation. The amiable, kind-hearted Guffy went through life doing his duty, dispensing good cheer among his friends, and finally meekly bowed his head to the fate that awaits us all. Owen, after marrying the pretty girl who had laughed so merrily at him in his contest with the "racer," rounded out an honorable career, and at its end he and she sleep well the last long sleep. Indeed, all the names here mentioned have long been numbered with the silent hosts who now rest in eternal peace.  
=====
Pioneer James Weir, of Greenville, made a number of trips from Lewisburg, or Kincheloe's Bluff, to New Orleans in the early days. The date of the first was about six years after he settled in Muhlenberg, when he was about twenty-seven years old, and as far as known it is the only one of which he ever wrote a description. The original manuseript is still in existence, and for a copy of it I am indebted to Judge Lucius P. Little, of Owensboro, who will publish the story in his forthcoming book on "Old Stories of Green River and Its People."  
Journal, by James Weir, 1803.  
I arrived at Natchez on the 9th March. It is a beautiful little town situated on a high bluff rising from the river by a gradual ascent, & a fertile & level country seems to make off from the town. From the eligibility of this place I think it is found to be the center of trade for the Western Country. There are about 500 dwellings in this place. They are mostly Americans from South Carolina & Georgia. There is a number of large stores there. Goods are sold about the same price with Nashville. I suppose from what I have seen that Natchez is, or the inhabitants of the town are, as much given to luxury & dissipation as any place in America. There is great abundance of cotton in the vicinity of Natchez. That is their staple commodity. There were 5 sea-vessels (schooners or brigs) lying there waiting for loading. It is thought that in time shipping will come there in great numbers as it will not take them more than 5-6 days, if so long, to come up from Orleans if the wind is moderately in their favour. I left the Natchez on the 12th for the New Orleans and on the morning of the 13th I arrived at Loftier Heights just as the soldiers were firing the morning gun. Loftier Heights is a place of defense occupied by the troops of the United States under the command of Gen. Wilkinson. The garrison is in good order and the troops look well. This place is 45 miles below Natchez on the line between the Spaniards & Americans. The river is from there to the Orleans very good and we sailed night and day. From the Heights to the Atchafalaya is 15 miles. This is a place that boatmen dread as it has been said that boats were sucked out there and were not able to return but were taken into lakes that empty into the sea, though I found no difficulty in it, nor do I believe that it is so dangerous as has been represented. From this to Point Copee is 25 miles.  
At Point Copee the French are settled on both sides in one continuous village which yields a beautiful prospect. From Point Copee to Baton Rouge is 35 miles. Here is the principal Spanish garrison that is kept on the river & here did I experience some of their tyranical laws.  
I arrived there in the evening and went to the Commandant & got my passport signed. He sent down to my boat & bought a ham of bacon. I thought from this example I might sell on without hesitation. I continued to sell till the next day at 12 o'clock when I was taken by a guard of Spanish Regulars who told me that I must go into confinement together with all my crew, save one to take care of the boat for selling without permission. I desired to see the Commandant for I hated the thought of going into a calaboose, but all in vain.  
We were hurried into a nasty prison amongst a number of Spanish transgressors who were almost naked. I then began to think of Baron Trenk in the jail of Magdaburg & that it might perhaps be my lot to be there without cause, possibly for months or years as our liberation or confinement depended wholy on the will of a capricious tyrant. I walked through this nasty prison very uneasy still looking through the iron grates and ruminating on my sad misfortune. I sat down at length on the straw & began to console myself that I was not the first that had been in confinement unjustly & that I was not alone as I had one of my company with me, a Mr. Hobbs who was merely a passenger in my boat. After we had been there about half an hour the interpreter came & told us we must come out & go before the Commandant. We went out cheerfully expecting to be liberated knowing ourselves to be innocent.  
We were brought before the Commandant who sat in his judgment hall. He demanded of me why I had sold bacon &c without permission from him. I told him that I did not know that it was necessary, and if I had transgressed against his laws it was through ignorance I being a stranger in their land & also that he was the first to purchase from me himself and that he did not tell me that it was necessary to have a permit & therefore I thought it ungenerous of him to put me into confinement. He took offense at this mode of expression and ordered us both back to confinement. The interpreter began to intercede for us but all in vain. Then Mr. Hobbs, who was with me, began to plead that he was only a passenger & that he ought to be set at liberty. The commandant agreed he should be liberated but I was sent back to confinement. I directed Hobbs to stay by my boat & not to leave the place till he saw the result. He said he would stay by me if it was for 6 months & use every exertion to get me out. He went to the boat & I to my prison with a heavy heart.  
The poor dejected Spaniards that were my companions in this solitary place began to eye me with attention & one of them got up and made signs for me to sit down on his blankets. I sat down and mused to myself. I had no company for I could not understand them. While I sat thus in dejection & had no hopes of coming out shortly there came a messenger to the door & asked me what I had to advance in my behalf respecting the affair for which I was confined. I told him I had nothing more to say than what I had already told the Commandant, his master, & that he might tell him that if he did confine me here without a cause I would see the Governor at the New Orleans who would certainly see justice done & perhaps by his removal from office. In about 10 minutes the messenger returned & told me I was to be set at liberty. The iron bolts were again turned & I was once more set at liberty.  
When I returned to the boat the crew was overjoyed to see me once more. We then pushed off our boat & set out for the Orleans, resolving to stay at that unfortunate place no longer. From Baton Rouge to Orleans, 180 miles, nothing more particular occurred on our voyage. We sailed night & day as in this part of the river there are no sawyers. When we came within 100 miles of Orleans the river is levied on both sides to keep the water from over flowing the settlements. Here you are presented with beautiful prospects on the levy on both sides of which are houses, large & beautiful farms, orange groves, sugar cane & sugar houses all the way to the New Orleans. When we came in sight the masts of the vessels that lay in harbour appeared like a forest of old trees. We got in amongst them with some difficulty and landed just above the Gate.  
I arrived at the New Orleans on the 23d of March 1803 a handsome city much larger & better situated than I did expect. There is a number of wealthy American merchants residing there & they carry on business largely; houses that may be relied upon either to deposit property with or to do business by consignment. Orleans is not a place of defence. Their garrisons and forts are out of repair. They have about 400 Spanish Regulars. They are a poor looking starved like crew. I am persuaded that 100 Kentucky men could take the place if it was the will of Government for I suppose that one third of the inhabitants of the Orleans are Americans in possession of the place.  
New Orleans is situated low. The country falls off from it. About 3 miles back it is so swampy that no person can settle on it. It is a fine place for fish & oysters in the lake that lies about 3 miles back from the city. New Orleans is a very rich place and a great place for doing business & would be a great acquisition to the United States if they were in possession of it. The French & Spaniards living there are for the most part very much of gentlemen & more to be relied on than many of our American citizens that are settled there. Some of them that I became acquainted with treated me with the greatest civility & freindship.1  
I set out from the Orleans for Philadelphia on the 6th of April on board the schooner Roby, Capt. Martain, Master (a very worthy and respectable man, a Quaker. We had a fair wind down the river to the mouth viz 105 miles. Just before we came to the Balize or mouth of the river we struck a sander & stuck fast for 3 days. On the evening of the 4th we carried out our anchor & used every exertion by all hands & draw her off, yet nevertheless, I felt not satisfied, for I thought it was ominous of bad success. We had to wait till the next morning for a pilot to take us out the mouth of the river as the channel is very narrow and often changes so that it is impossible for any person to come out or in without a pilot who examines the channel every day & sets up stakes on each side next morning early.  
The pilot came to us & the winds blew fair & we went out (together with seven other vessels) into the main ocean. Then it was that I began to feel sea sick in good earnest. The waves rolled high and the water looked green & loathsome as the hated Styx, (spoken of by the heathen poets.) We had 14 passengers on board. They were all sick save one. There was nothing to be heard but vomiting and cries of the sick. I bore it patiently knowing the sickness was not unto death & hoping that in a few days the worst would be over, but I continued sick almost throughout my whole journey. I had no appetite to eat & all kinds of victuals to me were loathsome till I arrived in the Delaware. We had a fair wind for 4 days after we left the Balize which blew us on rapidly. We sailed a south course till we came in sight of the Havannah. We then changed our course to E. N. E. The winds were contrary almost continually. We made no progress but were rather beaten back. Thus we were beat about in most horrid tempests, sometimes in sight of the Florida shore & sometimes in sight of the Land of Cuba & it was with difficulty that we could keep off the rocks & sands. The crew was in the utmost consternation & wished themselves on shore in any part. The Captain nevertheless preserved a calm and unshaken mind, bid us be of good cheer, that when adverse fortune had spent herself, we would have better winds & that he hoped to land us all safe at Philadelphia yet.  
On the evening of the 4th of May one of the passengers a young man from Monongehala of the name of William Kelly jumped over board and drowned himself without any known cause (except the apparent danger of our voyage & seasickness of which he had greatly suffered.) He was noticed to sit pensive all that day till evening when he pulled off his shirt & immediately jumped overboard. We called to him and threw him a rope but he would not receive it, but swam immediately from the vessel. We turned the vessel about in order to take him up but it was impracticable as the wind blew very high. We could see him swimming for the space of 20 minutes, when he jumped up almost out of the water and cryed out twice very loud & sunk down & we saw him no more.  
Great was the solemnity that pervaded through the whole crew. All seemed to regret the loss by so sudden death of so fine a young man who had so lately been our most jovial companion. We also seemed to conjecture that it did presage the destruction of all the crew & vessel. I went to bed but slept very little. I still fancied I could see poor Kelly jump out of the water & cry out for help.  
The next morning there blew up a mighty storm with much thunder and dreadful flashes of lightning that rolled along the skies. The waves became most dreadful such as we had never seen before. They often ran over our vessel and came into the cabin windows till it was knee deep on the floor. Then it was that I began to think that we must certainly perish. However, through the skill of our captain & sailors & the mercy of God we were preserved to encounter a more eminent danger. Cruel & adverse fortune seemed never too weary to persecute us. The winds subsided & the clouds blew away & bright Phebus began to emerge from the deep & seemed to promise us a pleasant day. But how short was this interval of pleasant calm. It was like the prosperity of the wicked but of short duration.  
We were calmly reclining ourselves on our beds talking over the dangers we had so recently escaped when it was cried out on deck "a waterspout! a waterspout! & it is coming towards us." We all ran up on deck when we perceived it not far distant from us & progressing on towards us. (Now a waterspout is a thing much feared by sea men. It is a body of water drawn up out of the sea into the clouds and then falls down with wonderful velocity and if it strikes a vessel it commonly sinks it.) I found our captain (who had hitherto appeared unmoved in all danger) began to appear much alarmed and the form of his visage was changed and all the sailors began to be in utmost confusion. The captain ordered all the passengers below. They mostly went down, but I resolved to stay on deck & see the event. The captain tried to make sail to get out of the way of it but it was all in vain. For then it seemed as though it would go before us. Then we struck sail thinking to fall back & let it pass on before us yet all our exertions seemed in vain. For though our vessel occupied but a small part of the wide extended ocean & this unhappy phenomenon was I suppose 2 miles off when we saw it first yet it came directly and immediately to us as though directed by a supernatural power for our certain destruction.  
Now this horrid scene begins to approach, the air is darkened, it roars like one continual peal of thunder. The captain cried out, "It is done! we are all lost!" The stoniest hearted sailors began to cry out "death, certain death! Lord have mercy on us!" The passengers began to flock up from below. Horror & paleness overspread each countenance & all crying out for mercy. I stood near to the cabin door & held by a rope expecting every moment to launch into the unknown regions of eternity. It came up & struck the stern of our vessel with a dreadful shock. She wheeled round with a great force & sunk down into the sea till the water came up to our shoulders on the mail deck when I never expected to see her rise again. It tore away our main sail & our top sail & our flying jib & the greater part of our rigging & drew them up into the air as in a whirlwind so that we saw them no more. It took the hat off the mate's head together with a number of other articles off the deck. After having shattered us most intolerably it passed by our vessel which rose out of the water. We tried the pump & found that the hull of our vessel was yet sound to the inexpressable joy of the captain and all the crew. It was some time before we recovered from the shock we received. When it struck the vessel it was like the shock of thunder when near, or electrel fire. Indeed it was 3 days before some of the crew was well. Now all hands are employed in clearing away the shattered rigging & in trying to erect a small sail for we had no canvas on board & we had to sew together the ruins of the old in the evening. We raised two small sails tho of little consequence & tried to stand our course. Tho' the winds were yet contrary we kept in the Gulf Stream which beat us on to the North.  
On the 26th & 27th the winds blew fair. On the 28th the wind shifted to the North & beat us back 2 degrees. We are now in the latitude of Charlestown & in sight of the Capes. The passengers prayed the captain to land them there for they began to despair of ever getting round to Philadelphia but he refused. So we beat on in great distress & confusion as our water was nearly exhausted & our ship in miserable repair, however the wind changed more favorably & on the 8th day of May we arrived in the Cape of Philadelphia & on the 9th we got a pilot & proceeded up the Delaware river (viz 120 miles to Philadelphia). We had a fair wind up the river & sailed up very pleasantly. A more beautiful prospect I never saw than in passing up the river. On either side is one continuous village with the most beautiful houses, meadows & orchards that yielded a most delightful prospect & a sweet & salutary perfume as the orchards & flowers were now in their bloom. I forgot all my difficulties, my seasickness left me and I felt uninterrupted felicity from the charming prospects. Vessels continually passing & repassing us with the same winds and towns arising on every side & ships coming in from all parts of the world. We spoke vessels in the river, some from the East & West Indies, from England, France & Spain & from all parts of the United States. On the 12th we arrived in Philadelphia, truly a large and elegant city most pleasantly situated. The people are remarkably plain & very civil. A great many of the inhabitants of this city are Quakers, mostly merchants and very attentive to business.  
On the 23d I set out from Philadelphia for Pittsburg. On the 24th I arrived at Lancaster a beautiful inland town, I suppose superior to any in the United States. I stayed there 3 days, then set out for Pittsburg. On my way I passed through several handsome little towns. The country is well settled by industrious citizens. They have fine orchards meadows & barns, & houses tho they charge travelers very high. On the 13th of June I arrived at Pittsburg a handsome little town in the forks of the Monongahala & Allegheny rivers. It is the place where most of the Western merchants embark with their merchandise to come down the river which causes money to be very plenty there. I stayed there 4 days to wait till the wagons came in with my goods. I purchased a boat, put in my goods & set off down the river. We passed by some handsome little towns on the way. I think it will be one day a continuous village on the banks of the Ohio from Pittsburg to the New Orleans. The river was very low. I floated night & day yet I was 4 weeks & 4 days from Pittsburg to the Redbanks, where I arrived on the 4th day of July, being one day more than 5 months from the time I set out from Lewisburg to the New Orleans.  
C, Two Local Stories by Edward R. Weir, Sr.
Edward R. Weir, sr., of Greenville, son of pioneer James Weir, was the author of a number of short stories. Only two are still preserved, and they are here briefly outlined.  
"A Visit to the Faith Doctor" was published in the November, 1836, issue of The Western Magazine of Cincinnati. When it first appeared in print it was the subject of much lively discussion in the Green River country, and especially in Muhlenberg County. Although the story caused Mr. Weir to lose a few votes, he nevertheless gained many others, when in 1841 he ran for the Legislature, to which he was elected by a large majority. The first half of the tale is a somewhat one-sided discussion of faith cures, in which the author quotes from the old Greek scribes and many of the writers of his own day. The last half is the account of an experience he had in visiting a "faith doctor" near "a little town on Green River," all of which is followed by a short argument on faith cures in general. The whole subject is treated ironically and by no means seriously. Nevertheless it was evidently written with a view of trying to prove what he considered "the absurdity of belief in faith doctors."  
"A Deer Hunt" was published in the Knickerbocker Magazine of March, 1839, under the heading of "Random Sketches by a Kentuckian--E. R. W." In the same number of the magazine appears an article by Washington Irving and a poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes. Mr. Weir begins his story with a few remarks on the great forests around Greenville, which I have omitted.  
A Visit to the Faith Doctor.  
Many of the ancient writers held the belief of supernatural power being given to man, and that there were some who could cure as well as give diseases by prayer, exorcisms, laying on of hands, etc. ...  
Steele says in the Tatler, "It is not to be imagined how far the violence of our own desires will carry us toward our own deceit in the pursuit of what we wish for." Imagination is a powerful emotion, and it has been satisfactorily proven that it will not only effect cures of "ineurable diseases," but will frequently produce death. Witness the case of the Jew in France, who on a very dark night passed safely over a bridge which consisted of a single log, whilst below him was an abyss of several hundred feet. On the next morning he was shown the fearful danger he had escaped, and so great was his emotion that he fell dead. Another is a case of a person whose fear of the plague was so great that when he entered a room where a plague-striken man was, he instantly expired. Again, where a criminal was bled to death without bleeding a drop of blood.  
[Mr. Weir then proceeds to tell about a visit made by two ladies and himself to the Faith Doctor's farm. One of the ladies was afflicted with an inflamed eye, and had decided, as a last resort, to call on this wonderful man. Their party of three left Greenville "one warm day in August," and after an interesting ride, during which they paused long enough to partake of an excellent dinner, they arrived at the "Doctor's domicile." Tradition says this house was in Ohio County, near Livermore.]  
It was a one-story log house with two rooms, and did not differ in any respect from those that we had passed during the day, save that a number of benches were ranged in front of the door. ...  
We dismounted and walked in. There was no person in the room, and we had time to look around the place into which we had thus introduced ourselves. But there was nothing to mark that we were in the dwellingplace of the wonderful man. I looked around for the books, the musty records of ancient knowledge, over which he might have pored and from which he might have gathered the power he was reputed to possess. But in vain we looked for these. No huge ironbound tome met our gaze. Everything was most provokingly plain, nothing mysterious, nothing which we might not find in any common farmer's cabin.  
The neat little bed which stood in one corner of the room was like all other beds. The old-fashioned clock, enclosed in a still more antiquated case, ticked on like any other clock. From a furtive glance which I cast into a cupboard I found that the Doctor and his family did eat, for it was well stored with cold meats and cold pies.  
Before I had time to extend my discoveries any farther his daughter came into the room. She was quite a pretty girl, but unfortunately for the poetry of the thing, she forgot to slip on her stockings. Shoes without stockings, you know, do not look well. We enquired for the Doctor. He was "in the meadow at work." We looked in that direction and beheld him astride of a haystack, which he appeared to be "topping off." A messenger was dispatched for him, and we prepared for the interesting interview.  
From the house we had a full view of the meadow, and before it was possible for the little boy, whom we had sent, to reach him where he was, we saw him slide from the stack, snatch up his hat and start for the house at about half mast. Then thought I, "he has an intuitive sense that he is wanted," but the next moment "the woeful want of dignity" struck me more forcibly. The cause of his haste was soon explained: there was a rush among the green corn; then a bark, and a squeal, and forth rushed a gang of hogs, closely followed by Towser and Ponto, while just behind came the Doctor, encouraging his dogs by name, who soon succeeded in clearing the field from intruders.  
His first salutation, when he saw me, was, "These nasty critters--people will leave the gate open, and they destroy all my truck!"  
[The callers apologized for their negligence, after which the consultation began.]  
Five minutes sufficed. He merely asked her name, which eye was affected, and how long it had been so. He took down her answers in writing and told her that the optic nerve, which we all knew before, was affected. I was very anxious to close the scene. So, hurrying the lady to her horse, I returned to bid the Doctor farewell. ... We were told he accepts no compensation for his service--that he asks no pay; but he is not averse to his family receiving presents. Nevertheless I asked him if he would make any charge for what he had promised to try to do, to which he answered: "Yes, I charge you this: next time you come, shut the gate."  
[Upon her return home the patient was confined to her room with a fever and headache. However, she rapidly recovered, and regained the full use of her eye, and the faith doctor had in her another enthusiastic convert.]  
From the slight conversation I had with the Doctor, and from what he has said to others, I gather that his plan of operation is by prayer, and that his creed is founded upon that passage of Scripture, "Verily, if ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed," etc. By his neighbors he is said to be a truly pious and estimable man, and that he possesses some intelligence. From this I would humbly beg leave to differ: I think him a very ignorant man, who may probably have succeeded in forcing upon himself the belief that his prayers "avail much."  
[The article concludes with the argument that if prayers and petitions can result in such wonders through this Faith Doctor, whom he declares "arrogant and impudent," how much more effective would be the result, and reverential the act, if the afflicted, instead of "laying his case before this pretender," would "pray to God and not to man."]  
A Deer Hunt.  
A bright, frosty morning in November, 1838, tempted me to visit this forest hunting-ground. ... On this occasion I was followed by a fine-looking hound, which had been presented to me, a few days before, by a fellow-sportsman. I was anxious to test his qualities, and knowing that a mean dog will often hunt well with a good one, I tied up my eager and well-trained Bravo and was attended by the stranger dog alone.  
[After a brisk canter of half an hour (which is very interestingly described) the sportsman sighted a deer, the object of his hunt. One version of the tradition has it that Mr. Weir first saw this stag on the hill three miles east of Greenville, which since the publication of this story has been called "Buck Knob."]  
On the very summit of the ridge, full one hundred and fifty yards distant, every limb standing out in bold relief against the clear blue sky, the stag paused and looked proudly down upon us. After a moment of indecision I raised my rifle and sent the whizzing lead upon its errand. A single bound and the antlered monarch was hidden from my view.  
[The chase continued for several hours, and led the hunter many miles from the starting-point, until finally he had a second shot at the animal.]  
Again I poured forth the "leaden messenger of death," and meteorlike he flashed by us. One bound and the noble animal lay prostrate within fifty feet of where I stood. Leaping from my horse and placing one knee upon the stag's shoulder and a hand upon his antlers, I drew my hunting knife. But scarcely had the keen point touched his neck, when with a sudden bound he threw me from his body, and my knife was hurled from my hand. In hunter's parlance, I had "only creased him." I at once saw my danger; but it was too late. With one bound he was upon me, wounding and almost disabling me with his sharp feet and horns. I seized him by his widespread antlers and sought to regain possession of my knife, but in vain; each new struggle drew me farther from it. Cherokee (my horse). frightened at this unusual scene, had madly fled to the top of the ridge, where he stood looking down upon the combat, trembling and quivering in every limb.  
The ridge road I had taken had placed us far in advance of the hound whose bay I could now hear. The struggles of the furious animal had become dreadful, and every moment I could feel his sharp hoofs cutting deep into my flesh; and yet I relinquished not my hold. The struggle had brought us near a deep ditch, washed by the heavy fall rains, and into this I endeavored to force my adversary; but my strength was unequal to the effort. When we approached the very brink he leaped over the drain; I relinquished my hold and rolled in, hoping thus to escape him. But he returned to the attack, and throwing himself upon me, inflicted numerous severe cuts upon my face and breast before I could again seize him. Locking my arms around his antlers, I drew his head close to my breast, and was thus, by a great effort, enabled to prevent his doing me any serious injury. But I felt that this could not last long; every muscle and fibre of my frame was called into action and human nature could not long bear up under such exertion. Faltering a silent prayer to Heaven, I prepared to meet my fate.  
At the moment of despair I heard the faint bayings of the hound. The stag, too, heard the sound, and springing from the ditch, drew me with him. His efforts were now redoubled and I could scarcely cling to him. Yet that blessed sound came nearer and nearer! O how wildly beat my heart, as I saw the hound emerge from the ravine and spring forward, with short quick bark, as his eyes rested on his game. I released my hold of the stag, who turned upon this new enemy. Exhausted and unable to rise, I still cheered the dog, that dastard-like fled before the infuriated animal, who, seemingly despising such an enemy, again threw himself upon me. Again did I succeed in throwing my arms around his antlers, but not until he had inflicted several deep and dangerous wounds upon my head and face, cutting to the very bone.  
Blinded by the flowing blood, exhausted and despairing, I cursed the coward dog, who stood near, baying furiously, yet refusing to seize his game. O how I prayed for Bravo! The thoughts of death were bitter. To die thus, in the wild forest, alone, with none to help! Thoughts of home and friends coursed like lightning through my brain. That moment of desperation, when hope itself had fled, deep and clear, over the neighboring hill, came the bay of my gallant Bravo! I should have known his voice among a thousand! I pealed forth, in one faint shout, "On, Bravo! on!" The next moment, with tigerlike bounds, the noble dog came leaping down the declivity, scattering the dried autumnal leaves like a whirlwind in its path. "No pause he knew," but fixing his fangs in the stag's throat, at once commenced the struggle.  
I fell back completely exhausted. Blinded with blood, I only knew that a terrific struggle was going on. In a few moments all was still, and I felt the warm breath of my faithful dog as he licked my wounds. Clearing my eyes from gore, I saw my late adversary dead at my feet; and Bravo, "my own Bravo," as the heroine of a modern novel would say, standing over me. He yet bore around his neck a fragment of the rope with which I had tied him. He had gnawed it in two, and following his master through all his wanderings, arrived in time to rescue him from a horrible death.  
[After a brisk canter of half an hour (which is very interestingly described) the sportsman sighted a deer, the object of his hunt. One version of the tradition has it that Mr. Weir first saw this stag on the hill three miles east of Greenville, which since the publication of this story has been called "Buck Knob."]  
On the very summit of the ridge, full one hundred and fifty yards distant, every limb standing out in bold relief against the clear blue sky, the stag paused and looked proudly down upon us. After a moment of indecision I raised my rifle and sent the whizzing lead upon its errand. A single bound and the antlered monarch was hidden from my view.  
[The chase continued for several hours, and led the hunter many miles from the starting-point, until finally he had a second shot at the animal.]  
Again I poured forth the "leaden messenger of death," and meteorlike he flashed by us. One bound and the noble animal lay prostrate within fifty feet of where I stood. Leaping from my horse and placing one knee upon the stag's shoulder and a hand upon his antlers, I drew my hunting knife. But scarcely had the keen point touched his neck, when with a sudden bound he threw me from his body, and my knife was hurled from my hand. In hunter's parlance, I had "only creased him." I at once saw my danger; but it was too late. With one bound he was upon me, wounding and almost disabling me with his sharp feet and horns. I seized him by his widespread antlers and sought to regain possession of my knife, but in vain; each new struggle drew me farther from it. Cherokee (my horse). frightened at this unusual scene, had madly fled to the top of the ridge, where he stood looking down upon the combat, trembling and quivering in every limb.  
The ridge road I had taken had placed us far in advance of the hound whose bay I could now hear. The struggles of the furious animal had become dreadful, and every moment I could feel his sharp hoofs cutting deep into my flesh; and yet I relinquished not my hold. The struggle had brought us near a deep ditch, washed by the heavy fall rains, and into this I endeavored to force my adversary; but my strength was unequal to the effort. When we approached the very brink he leaped over the drain; I relinquished my hold and rolled in, hoping thus to escape him. But he returned to the attack, and throwing himself upon me, inflicted numerous severe cuts upon my face and breast before I could again seize him. Locking my arms around his antlers, I drew his head close to my breast, and was thus, by a great effort, enabled to prevent his doing me any serious injury. But I felt that this could not last long; every muscle and fibre of my frame was called into action and human nature could not long bear up under such exertion. Faltering a silent prayer to Heaven, I prepared to meet my fate.  
At the moment of despair I heard the faint bayings of the hound. The stag, too, heard the sound, and springing from the ditch, drew me with him. His efforts were now redoubled and I could scarcely cling to him. Yet that blessed sound came nearer and nearer! O how wildly beat my heart, as I saw the hound emerge from the ravine and spring forward, with short quick bark, as his eyes rested on his game. I released my hold of the stag, who turned upon this new enemy. Exhausted and unable to rise, I still cheered the dog, that dastard-like fled before the infuriated animal, who, seemingly despising such an enemy, again threw himself upon me. Again did I succeed in throwing my arms around his antlers, but not until he had inflicted several deep and dangerous wounds upon my head and face, cutting to the very bone.  
Blinded by the flowing blood, exhausted and despairing, I cursed the coward dog, who stood near, baying furiously, yet refusing to seize his game. O how I prayed for Bravo! The thoughts of death were bitter. To die thus, in the wild forest, alone, with none to help! Thoughts of home and friends coursed like lightning through my brain. That moment of desperation, when hope itself had fled, deep and clear, over the neighboring hill, came the bay of my gallant Bravo! I should have known his voice among a thousand! I pealed forth, in one faint shout, "On, Bravo! on!" The next moment, with tigerlike bounds, the noble dog came leaping down the declivity, scattering the dried autumnal leaves like a whirlwind in its path. "No pause he knew," but fixing his fangs in the stag's throat, at once commenced the struggle.  
I fell back completely exhausted. Blinded with blood, I only knew that a terrific struggle was going on. In a few moments all was still, and I felt the warm breath of my faithful dog as he licked my wounds. Clearing my eyes from gore, I saw my late adversary dead at my feet; and Bravo, "my own Bravo," as the heroine of a modern novel would say, standing over me. He yet bore around his neck a fragment of the rope with which I had tied him. He had gnawed it in two, and following his master through all his wanderings, arrived in time to rescue him from a horrible death.  
D, Duvall's Discovery of "Silver Ore"
By Richard T. Martin.1  
During the spring of 1851 an excitement was started in the western part of Muhlenberg County which continued for more than two years. Mark Duvall claimed he had found silver ore in the hills of his neighborhood. Mark Duvall was a son of Benjamin Duvall, an old settler who lived about six miles west of Greenville. Benjamin Duvall was the father of Howard, Mark, and Benjamin Duvall, jr., or "Darky," as he was commonly called.  
Mark Duvall when a young man learned the tanner's trade under John Campbell of Greenville, who conducted a tannery near where the Greenville Milling Company's planing mill is now located. Mark had also devoted some time to the study of chemistry and mineralogy, and had become a good tanner. After remaining with Campbell for a few years he married and located near his father's farm, on which was a good running spring. There Mark established a tanyard of his own, which was well patronized. Mark was a quiet, sober, and well-liked man, and had the full confidence of all who knew him. In fact, the Duvall family stood high in the community.  
There were about four hundred acres of hilly land lying east of Jarrell's Creek, all of which was owned by Benjamin Duvall and his neighbors. In the spring of 1851 Mark Duvall reported that he had discovered the existence of silver ore in this hilly section. He would not point out any particular spot where silver could be found, but declared that rich veins of it occurred throughout these hills. The proclamation of this news was very encouraging to those who owned the hills. Steps were at once taken and prospecting commenced, and soon the digging of holes and pits was carried on in earnest. As the news of the great silver discovery spread, prospecting extended until everybody in the western part of the county was on the lookout for ore, and in a short time the whole county was more or less interested.  
This was only a few years after the excitement of the Buckner and Churchill Iron Works had subsided. Some people seemed to take a great interest in the matter, while others scouted the idea. Secret investigations were conducted in different parts of the county, but the investigations made among the hills were boldly carried on with greater assurance. Several of the moneyed men of Greenville became interested in the silver project, and made arrangements to become partners with those owning the hills and to furnish means for a thorough investigation of the matter.  
When Mark Duvall had declared that there was silver in the hills. he backed up his statement by melting "silver" out of the rock that had been mined by the landowners. Different kinds of rock had been dug up; some limestone, some iron ore, and a blue sandstone which sparkled with particles of mica, and was considered the richest and most plentiful of the "silver" ore.  
Duvall had a novel way of extracting silver from this blue sandstone. He used a deep iron bowl with a long handle attached. It was simply a large ladle. Nearly every family owned a similar small ladle, which they used in those days for melting lead to make bullets for hunting purposes.  
During the first year of the silver excitement Duvall would have the different parties who were digging beat up some of their ore, and he would take his big ladle, go to their houses, and make a "run" for them. These "runs" were usually made at night. After a hot wood fire was started Duvall would fill his big ladle with the powdered ore and place it on the fire. He would then put a flux of soap and borax in the ladle to "increase the heat" and "help extract the metal." As a general thing there would be a gathering of neighbors to witness the "run." After the ore had become red-hot, Duvall would add some "nitric and sulphuric acid," which would soon disappear, and Duvall would say, "She has done her do!" He would next carry the ladle out doors, to cool off, and after it had cooled sufficiently a search would be made for silver. Small shots of metal would be found and selected out of the ore that had been heated, and much rejoicing would take place.  
The next day digging would be resumed with more earnestness. After a while the natives tried to extract the silver from the ore themselves.  
The line that, before the formation of Muhlenberg, separated Logan from Christian and lay within the bounds of what became Muhlenberg, is described in the act creating Christian County as follows: "Beginning on Green river, eight miles below the mouth of Muddy river1; thence a straight line to one mile west of Benjamin Hardin's." In other words, this former dividing line ran in a southwesterly direction from a point on Green River eight miles below the mouth of Mud River to a point in the neighborhood of what later became the northwest corner of Todd County. That being the fact, about three fourths of the original area of Muhlenberg County, or about two thirds of the present area, was taken from Christian, and the remainder--the southeastern part of Muhlenberg--was taken from Logan County.Map of Muhienberg County compiled from six atlas sheets issued by the United States Geological Survey (1907-1912)  
I judge that after the southern line had been surveyed it was discovered that certain lands originally intended to fall within the bounds of Muhlenberg were, according to the "calls for running the county line," not included in the new county. At any rate, on December 4, 1800, the Legislature passed "An act to amend and explain an act, entitled 'an act for the division of Christian county,' " which I here quote in full: take a forked stick or small rod, like those used by "water witches," and "locate" veins of silver as easily as a "water witch" could locate a vein of water.  
I recall a man named Culbertson, who wore trousers that did not reach his shoetops, and were therefore called "highwater pants." He carried a small, greasy bag, filled with various kinds of ores. He used a short hickory stick, split at one end. In order to find a vein of any particular metal he would place a piece of that kind of ore in the split end of the stick. With this loaded "metal-rod" he would walk over the hills and shake it around at arm's length and in every direction. If the ore that existed in the ground was the same as the ore in his split rod, then, he claimed, the attraction became so great that it jerked his arm like a fish.  
John Vickers, who lived between Sacramento and Rumsey, was one of the great water and metal "witches" of his day. He was elected to the Legislature in 1848, went to California in 1849 when the gold fever broke out there, but returned to Muhlenberg in the fall of 1851 in time to assist Duvall in trying to convince the people that silver existed in the region of Jarrell's Creek. He claimed that he had found many silver veins with the assistance of his rod. He told the people that one day, while sitting in his house in Sacramento, he located, with his hickory rod, a rich gold vein in California, and that he had written to some of his relatives in that State to take possession of it until he could get there. He said that an abundance of silver undoubtedly existed in the Muhlenberg hills. His statements added luster and vigor to the project.  
The various "water witches" became expert "silver witches," and "located" many rich veins throughout the neighborhood. There were several old women who followed telling fortunes with coffee-grounds. They also tried their skill on the silver question by "turning the cup," as they called it. They put some coffee-grounds into a cup with a little coffee and turned the cup around very rapidly, shook it, and then turned the cup upside down in the saucer. They would let the inverted cup remain in that position a few minutes, and then pick it up and examine the position of the grounds that still adhered to the sides. From the arrangement of the grounds they could tell whether the prospects were "clear" or "cloudy." If there was a clear space down the side of the cup it indicated "good luck" and "go ahead." If the side of the cup was clouded with grounds it foretold "bad luck" and "look out."  
The rod was considered the most reliable way of determining the presence of silver ore. The "silver witch" in using the rod could answer questions with a "yes" or "no." The nodding up and down of the rod was for "yes" and the horizontal movement for "no." There was great confidence placed in these indications made by the rod.  
As a general thing the people in the county had but little knowledge of mineralogy, metallurgy, or chemistry. Doctor W. H. Yost was considered the most competent man in Muhlenberg to make a test of the metal. After an examination he pronounced it tin. Howard Duvall, a brother of Mark, melted a silver dime and took it to Doctor Yost for analysis, who declared that it also was tin. The result was that the prospectors lost faith in Doctor Yost's knowledge of metals.  
After Doctor Yost had made his tests it was thought best by the leaders of the silver enthusiasts to have the ore and metal analyzed by experienced chemists and mineralogists, for no one except Mark Duvall had succeeded in getting any metal from the blue sandstone which had been dug out of Silver Hills. A meeting was held by parties interested in the project. George W. Short, of Greenville, together with Duvall, was delegated to take some of the ore and metal that Duvall claimed to have extracted by the use of his iron ladle and a wood fire, and go to Cincinnati to an experienced assayer and have both rock and metal tested. This they did. The chemist stated that the so-called "silver" was a mixture of metals, and declared that it could not possibly have come out of the sand rock, for the rock contained no metal of any kind. Duvall argued that it did. So Short and Duvall left Cincinnati without any encouragement. Soon after this, Short lost all confidence in the silver business and withdrew his support and influence.  
In spite of this set-back, much interest was still manifested by many of the owners of the so-called Silver Hills. Dabney A. Martin, a merchant and tobacconist of Greenville, wanted another test made. So when he went to Philadelphia after goods he took with him some of the blue sandstone and the metal that Duvall claimed to have "run" from the rock, and had them tested by chemists there. They also told him that the "silver" was a mixture of metals, and that it had not come out of the rock. In the fall of 1852, when Dabney A. Martin went to Europe on tobacco business, he took some of the ore and metal to England and had them analyzed in London. The chemists there likewise reported that the metal was a mixture and that it had not come out of the sand rock. This was another damper on the silver excitement. Martin, like Short, lost confidence in the silver situation.  
However, Duvall kept "running" out the metal with his crucibles and iron ladle. On one occasion Duvall made a big "run" in an iron kettle over a wood fire. He extracted about five pounds of "silver." Nevertheless, doubt and distrust increased about Duvall's sincerity. He was accused of being a fakir and a fraud. After Duvall had made his five-pound "run," Vickers, who frequently prospected in Silver Hills, took Duvall's five-pound "run" and some of the blue sandstone silver ore, saying he would take them to New York and have them assayed there. Vickers left, but returned in about a month. He reported that the New York chemist, like all the other professional chemists, pronounced the "silver" a mixture of metals, and said that it had not come out of the sand rock. He explained that they rolled the metal into sheets for him. These he exhibited, and gave to all those who were interested in the silver question a small sheet of what looked very much like tinfoil, which it probably was. Vickers left Silver Hills and was never seen in that neighborhood again. It was afterward claimed that he did not take the metal and ore any farther than his home in McLean County.  
Duvall proposed to the people that if they would construct a furnace he would show them that he was no fakir. So the neighbors joined in and built a small furnace near his tanyard. It was only nine feet high, and therefore a great deal smaller than Buckner's iron furnace on Pond Creek. When the silver furnace was finished and ready for action the neighbors gathered to see the silver "run." Duvall was watched very closely. After the smelter had been in operation two days and very little metal had been obtained, Duvall declared the furnace had not been properly constructed. Men who had lost confidence in his work did not hesitate to tell him so to his face. This resulted in a fight at the furnace, and the place was abandoned. The stone oven stood for several years, and was always known as Duvall's Silver Stack.  
About the time the furnace was abandoned, Duvall claimed he had received letters telling him that unless he left the county he would be killed. Duvall decided it would not be safe for him to remain in the county, and therefore left. However, he always insisted that the hills he had explored were full of silver and would be opened up some day. Just before he moved to Ohio County, he requested three men of the neighborhood to meet him at a certain place in Silver Hills. After they met, he led them to the head of a deep hollow and there dug up several pieces of metal, which he carried back home with him. No questions were asked by any one of these men, but their eyes were opened; the tale was told, and the silver excitement was soon over.  
The secret of all this silver excitement, which lasted for about two years, was well planned and manipulated by Mark Duvall, for what purpose no one can tell, unless it was to sell his father's land at a high price.  
In the early history of the county, pewter utensils were used for domestic purposes. Pewter bowls, plates, pans, etc., of the early days had gone out of use at this period. The best quality of pewter--called also "white metal" --was made of tin hardened with copper. The cheap grade was made of lead, alloyed with antimony and bismuth. Duvall had secured some of these old pewter vessels, cut them up, and hidden them away for use in working the silver trick. Duvall was aware of the fact that his neighbors knew nothing about ores of any kind. He made his "silver runs" in his iron ladle on a wood fire, which in itself was absurd. He made these "silver runs" by dissolving a piece of pewter in acid. He would pour this solution on the hot crushed rock in the ladle. The acid would soon be consumed and the metal would remain in the ladle with the crushed rock, and when cooled off the metal would be formed into small shot and could be picked out. This would occur no matter what kind of rock might be used.  
Mark Duvall moved to Ohio County, where he studied medicine and lived to a good old age, but as far as is known he never "discovered" any silver in that county.  
E, "Riding the Circuit" By Lucies P. Little.
Noman in Western Kentucky stands higher as a citizen, lawyer, or student of literature and history than does Judge Lucius P. Little. In "Ben Hardin, His Times and Contemporaries," published in 1887, he wrote one of the best contributions ever printed bearing on the history of Kentucky from 1784 to 1852. He now has in course of preparation "Old Stories of Green River and Its People," which will appear during 1914. I have read the manuscript, and am confident that this book will take rank as one of the best written and most valuable histories of any of those concerning any section of the State. Judge Little was born in Calhoun February 15, 1838. He was graduated from the Law Department of Cumberland University, Lebanon, Tennessee, in 1857, and in 1868 moved to Owensboro, where he has since resided and where he has long stood at the head of his fellow lawyers. From 1880 to 1893 he served as circuit judge. He is a member of the Investigators' Club (Owensboro's literary and historical club) and the Kentucky State Historical Society. The following sketch was written by Judge Little in 1912, especially for this history.  


"Riding the Circuit."  
The custom of the old-time lawyers in Kentucky of "riding the circuit" was almost coeval with the admission of the State into the Federal Union, and continued to the end of the fifties. After the Civil War ended, the increase of the local bar in numbers and in reputation as practitioners caused the custom gradually to decline.  
While the custom was in vogue, on the Sunday before the beginning of a term of court the presiding judge, usually accompanied by the prosecuting attorney and a retinue of lawyers more or less numerous, mounted on horseback, might be seen entering the county town, destined for the principal tavern, not unlike an unarmed troop of cavalry. This might fitly be termed the "grand entry," and following it there quickly gathered about the inn a respectable number of the principal citizens, to greet the distinguished guests. After the first arrivals others followed, in parties of twos or threes or one by one. By nightfall the leading tavern was taxed to its utmost capacity.  
The following morning, the first day of the term, the courthouse bell was rung vigorously at eight o'clock, and shortly thereafter the high sheriff proclaimed at the front door to the listening world the thrilling shibboleth, usual on such occasions: "O yez! O yez! The Circuit Court for Muhlenberg County is now in session! Let all persons having business therein draw near and be heard! God save the Commonwealth and this Honorable Court!" (This old preliminary formula has fallen into disuse, and unfortunately a neglected Deity has not always saved the Common wealth from the enemies of law and order or protected the eminent judges who have presided over its courts.)  
On entering the court room, all seats inside the bar are largely found already occupied by the unprivileged classes. The sheriff, however, gives the peremptory order that all persons not lawyers and officers of court are requested to retire from the bar, which mandate is quickly obeyed. Persons summoned as jurors and others (ready to be summoned) seek seats in easy earshot of any call of their names. Parties, witnesses, and mere lookers-on soon fill all remaining seats.  
The judge has already taken what in legal parlance is "the bench," but which in reality is an easy chair behind a desk, which to the unsophistieated is strikingly like a pulpit. The clerk, sheriff, and jailer betake themseives to their respective posts and to the discharge of their several functions. At last the honorable court is opened in due form, and those having business therein draw near and (as opportunity offers) proceed to make themselves heard.  
The particular term of court now to be mentioned occurred in the year 1859, when Honorable Thomas C. Dabney was judge of the district and Ed Campbell prosecuting attorney. The resident attorneys at that time were Charles Eaves, Jonathan Short, Joseph Ricketts, John Chapeze, B. E. Pittman, Edward R. Weir, sr., and Mortimer D. Hay. At the head of this roll, by extent of practice, long experience, and profound learning, easily stood Charles Eaves, then in the full vigor of manhood. The youngest member, familiarly called "Mort" Hay, was tall and slender, with a quick and bright mind, already giving assurance of the talents and ability for which he was subsequently distinguished in a career terminated by an untimely death. The visiting lawyers that term were Honorable B. L. D. Guffy, of Morgantown, who was later to occupy a seat on the Court of Appeals bench; Washington Ewing, of Russellville, sprung of a family distinguished for its talents; H. G. Petree, Samuel Kennedy, and Francis Bristow, from Elkton--and sometimes came also the latter's son Benjamin, physically strong and burly and of striking appearance, but not so widely distinguished then as to cause the subsequent inquiry, "Is there not good presidential timber produced in Elkton?" From the Daviess County bar answered John H. McHenry, sr., and William Anthony, both names very familiar in the region at that day. McLean County was also represented by two young lawyers who, having some business in court that term, were in attendance. One of these was the late William T. Owen, afterward for two terms circuit judge of his district. Each of these had secured two of Culver's best rigs for the trip--not, as it may be well to explain, that they necessarily required two separate conveyances for the thirty miles from Calhoun to Greenville, but because each had had the good fortune to secure as comrade for the journey two of the prettiest girls of that town. It is recalled that, on the bright day they fared forth, the two young gentlemen were arrayed in the height of the fashion of that time, but so clad that they would be a sight to the beholders in these later days. Picture them! Long hair, silk hats, swallow-tail coats, low-cut vests, close-fitting trousers, and low-quarter shoes, with white hose! Neither in that day nor at any time since, in Kentucky, has there ever been any discount on a pretty girl because of her raiment, but on this day these were charmingly gowned.  
The weather was faultless, and the long, hot lanes were fewer than now. For the most part the road on either side was bordered by woodland, the scenery and fragrance of which would beggar the language that might attempt to describe it. It is better to forget the exquisite pleasure of such bright days in the dim light of the somberer and quieter ones that came later. The road, at one point, wound by a clearing where the timber had been cut away and the brush placed in piles for burning later. There an incident occurred worthy of note. A blacksnake, technically known as a "racer," six to seven feet in length, was discovered in the road by Owen, who was in advance. His fair companion expressed some girlish alarm, whereupon with becoming gallantry he leaped from the buggy and with whip in hand lashed the "racer" as he fled out through the clearing. After a chase of seventy-five yards the snake hid himself in a brush-pile, and Owen, exhilarated by the exercise, started to return. The snake, encouraged by the retreat of his pursuer, came forth, and with head erect nearly two feet made a good second on the return, although the young man did his best. Turning on the snake again and hitting him whenever in reach, the race out through the clearing was repeated, and the snake again sought refuge and again chased his pursuer. This performance was kept up without variation until four or five heats had been run. Meantime his traveling companion--secure from danger in the buggy--and the occupants of the other vehicle, had laughed and wept and laughed again. But Owen got excessively warm and was fairly outwinded, while the "racer" showed a discouraging degree of "bottom." By finally crawling into his buggy backwards, meanwhile demonstrating with his whip, he managed to terminate the unequal contest. Docet hic fabula if a beau wishes to show his mettle before the fair, he should beware of contests with "racers."  
In the soft twilight of the day the journey ended. Having left their traveling companions with expectant friends, the attorneys found lodging at Captain Bob Russell's somewhat overcrowded hotel. The landlord was a large, portly man of fine presence, quite as dignified as any of his distinguished guests, with all of whom he maintained an easy familiarity. He carried a stout walking-cane as he mingled with his lodgers, discharging the duties of hospitality. His colloquial abilities were above the common, and he was not at loss whatever the topie. His stores of incident and anecdote were inexhaustible, and he gave his friends little opportunity for considering whether the accommodations of the house might not be amended in certain directions. He had honorably served his country in war and in peace in former years, and was still a valuable man in that quarter to the political party with which he affiliated.  
The hotel building stood near the courthouse. It was a low, two-storied affair, with a few bed-chambers and these in the second story, but each large enough for three or four beds, and each bed was designed to accommodate two persons. The writer recalls that when he awoke at about four o'clock the first morning of his stay in Greenville, he beheld a large, fleshy, elderly man engaged in shaving a large area of fleshy face as with closed eyes he sat ponderously in a chair. (This was before the era of safety razors.)  
"Mr. McHenry, how can you shave without a mirror?" inquired the freshly awakened young lawyer.  
"I am not in the habit of using a mirror, and can shave just as readily without one," was the answer.  
It was fortunate in his case, as our room in this respect was unfurnished, and the single candle in the bedroom shedding a radiance somewhat uncertain. It was also a provident arrangement of nature that morning that all the occupants of our chamber did not care to arise and dress at the same time; that operation was performed in detachments. The limited floor space forbade any other course. There was no ceiling or plaster beneath, and because of this the landlord was enabled with his cane to knock on our floor from time to time, as a warning that breakfast was about ready. All embarrassments were happily overcome, the morning meal dispatched, and the gentlemen of the bar were ready in due time for the opening of court.  
One of the important cases to be tried was that of Arch Rutherford, charged with the murder of a man named Stark, in Todd County. After being indicted in Todd the defendant had procured a change of venue to Muhlenberg. The evidence in the case was circumstantial, and while the circumstances had been comparatively few they had been sufficient to lead to the conclusion on the part of the public generally-that the accused was the guilty man, and that his motive had been robbery. A twenty-dollar bill which had been paid to Stark the day before the murder (which had occurred at night) was marked. It was found in possession of Rutherford and identified by the man who had paid it to Stark. The accused owned and was accustomed to ride a horse which, in motion, made a peculiar noise known as "rattling of the sheath." It was in proof at the trial that a horse making this peculiar noise was heard, on the night of the murder, to pass through the town of Elkton from Rutherford's residence, going in the direction of the place where Stark resided, and also that a short time afterward the horse was heard returning going toward defendant's residence. It was also made to appear that, in passing and repassing through town, the horse had been ridden in a gallop, and that next day he showed signs of having been recently hard ridden.  
Honorable Francis Bristow was chief counsel for the accused. Mr. Campbell conducted the prosecution. The jury that tried the case returned a verdict of guilty, and sentence of death was pronounced. An appeal was prosecuted, and the judgment was reversed in the Court of Appeals and the case remanded for a new trial. While awaiting another trial the prisoner escaped from jail and was never afterward apprehended. Tradition has it that he fled to Texas, and during a long residence in that State accumulated considerable property and that he died there, but the date of his death is unknown.  
.
===
At the same term there was also pending a case against S. P. Love, charged with killing Wesley M. Little at South Carrollton on August 16, 1857. The circumstances of the killing were that Love and Little, both residing in South Carrollton, became embroiled in a personal difficulty growing out of polities. Little kept a hotel in the town and was an active local politician. In a public speech he had denounced a statement made by Love as untrue. Early one Sunday morning, shortly afterward, Little, while standing alone in front of his hotel, was instantly killed by a shot in the back, fired by some one in concealment in the second story of a house across the street. Love was arrested and indicted for murder. At the autumn term of 1859 the case was tried, but the jury failed to agree. It was afterward continued from term to term until the outbreak of the Civil War. Love, meantime, joined the Federal army and during the war underwent final trial, which resulted in his acquittal.  
Over half a century has gone by since the term of court herein referred to. More pages have been written in American history in that interval than in all the preceding years since Columbus first laid longing eyes on the palm trees of the West Indian island. In very truth old times have passed away, and behold all things are become new.  
To one who saw Greenville and its people then, there are many things he would miss if he looked for them now. The portly and dignified landlord of Russell's Tavern has long slept in the silent grave. The small, old-fashioned courthouse has been supplanted by a stately edifice, the architectural graces of which entitle it to be called the Temple of Justice. The gentle Dabney has long since ceased to preside there, but has without fear answered the call of another Judge. Campbell, the prosecutor, is no longer a terror to evildoers, but has received the reward due a just man, and has claimed his right to be heard by that merciful Advocate who pleads for us all. Charles Eaves, when he left this world, took from it a store of legal knowledge possessed but rarely by any lawyer of his day and generation. The amiable, kind-hearted Guffy went through life doing his duty, dispensing good cheer among his friends, and finally meekly bowed his head to the fate that awaits us all. Owen, after marrying the pretty girl who had laughed so merrily at him in his contest with the "racer," rounded out an honorable career, and at its end he and she sleep well the last long sleep. Indeed, all the names here mentioned have long been numbered with the silent hosts who now rest in eternal peace.