An Autobiography of Davy Crockett

by Stephen Brennan

  That kind of education astonished me more than any thing I ever saw. There were a great many of them. Some were learning to play on the piano-forte and many of them were busy making pretty little baskets, such as are carried by the ladies.

  They asked me if I would like to hear them sing and telling them it would please me very much, a number of them came up, and some had musical instruments: one had a large thing which I never saw before, nor did I ask the name; one had a clarionet, and one had a flute. They played and sung together beautifully and, indeed, I never saw happier people in my life. I remained some time with them going over the establishment. This is the house that I mentioned before was given by Colonel Perkins to the blind. There is not such a grand house owned by any person in Washington. What a satisfaction it must be to this old gentleman and others who have helped these unfortunates to see them surrounded with so many comforts!

  CHAPTER 6

  New England / My Philadelphia Rifle / Yankee Rum

  When I returned, there were some gentlemen that in vited me to go to Cambridge, where the big college or university is, where they keep ready-made titles or nick names to give people. I would not go, for I did not know but they might stick an LL. D. on me before they let me go and I had no idea of changing “Member of the House of Representatives of the United States,” for what stands for “lazy lounging dunce,” which I am sure my constitu ents would have translated my new title to be, knowing that I had never taken any degree and did not own to any except a small degree of good sense not to pass for what I was not. I would not go it. There had been one doctor made from Tennessee already and I had no wish to put on the cap and bells. I recollect the story of a would-be-great man who put on his sign after his name, in large capitals, D. Q. M. G., which stood for Deputy Quarter Master General but, which one of his neighbors, to the great diversion of all the rest and to his mortification, translated into “damn’d quick made gentleman.” No, indeed, not me; anything you please but Granny Crockett; I leave that for others, I’ll throw that in to make chuck full the measure of their country’s glory.

  I told them I did not go to this branding school; I did not want to be tarred with the same stick; one dignitary was enough from Tennessee, that as far as my learning went, I would stand over it and spell a strive or two with any of them, from a-b-ab to crucifix, which was where I left off at school.

  This day I dined out again but I’m most tired talking of dinners, especially after I have eaten them. I went to the theatre that night. The acting was pretty considerable, considering that one actress who, it was very plain, was either a married woman or “had ought to be,” as they say there, was playing in the character of a young lady; and one fellow tried to sing that was not half up to a Misissippi boat horn.

  We got a little dry or so and wanted a horn, but this was a temperance house, and there was nothing to treat a friend to that was worth shaking a stick at, so says I, “When there was a famine in the land of Canaan, there was plenty of corn in Egypt; let us go over to the Tremont, Boyden keeps stuff that runs friends together and makes them forget which is which.” Over we went and soon forgot all about the theatre.

  I had promised next morning to go to Lowell with Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Harding and others, but when I woke up it was pouring down rain so that kept me in the house all day.

  I was not idle, for I had a heap of talk with the folks in the house. One gentleman asked me to come and see him, but he gave me so many directions about getting to where he lived that I asked him to write it down and told him if ever he came to my part of the country, I hoped he would call and see me. “Well,” said he, “how will I find where you live?” “Why, sir, run down the Mississippi till you come to the Obion river, run a small streak up that, jump ashore anywhere and inquire for me.”

  Says I to one of them, “Do you believe in the sea-sarpint?” “If I don’t, there’s no snakes. I believe it to be as much true as there is lie in our deacon when he says his red face ain’t made by drinking ‘New England.’” “Do you consider him dangerous, or is he peaceable?” “Well, now, to keep the truth, I never saw him, but Capting Hodijah Folger said as how he considered the critter as a sort o’ so, and a sort o’ not.” “Had he a long tail?” “Tail, did you say? You’d a died to hear Didge tell about that verming. Didge said he was like skying a copper—head or tail—but you had to guess which. Ses Didge to me, ‘Don’t you mind,’ ses he, ‘that are angel what stood with one leg on the sea, and t’other on the dry land?’ I guess I do.’ ‘Well,’ ses he to me, ‘that are sarpint’s skin was long enough to a queued his hair.’”

  I was asked to sup with a Mr. Richards, whom I had seen at Washington. He had a house full of ladies and gentlemen, collected to see me so I was on my manners and I hope they were all as much gratified as I was. We had a fine supper, plenty of conversation and some fun. I don’t think the northern ladies talk as much publicly as they do in the south and west. In private conversation they are ready enough.

  When I got back, I saw my old cock again. “Well,” says I, “what do you think of nullification up here?” “Why, they say, some of them, that it was got and bred by the tariff. Squire Williams, my neighbor, said he didn’t think so: it was a kind of come-by-chance, that was too wicked to know its own kin; and he thought it was a very ugly thing.” “Well,” says I to him, “squire, setting a case as how the Congress of Jacksonmen should pass a law taxing of all the looms and spindles and letting cot tons and woolens come in from foreign parts, free of duty. What should we do?” “Why, ask ’em to repeal it.” “Sup pose they would not do it; and when we were growing poorer and poorer, the tax-gatherer should come to sell you out, stock and fluke.” “Why, I’d dispute his authority desperately and if that would not do, I’d fight him, by the blue blazes.” “And so would I, but ain’t that nullifying, or something mighty like it?” “Why,” ses he, “the toe that’s tramped on feels most and a man that don’t swear had better try a stumpy field with a young yoke of cattle.” “Well,” ses I, “them there people down there fought desperate in the old war. They whipped Captain Cornwallis and scared Sir Harry Clinton out and out and I reckon then no more nor now they don’t like no body to wrong them out of their rights. But I’m glad it’s all over and I tell you what I think; you don’t work hard enough in the south and take good care of your grounds and cattle and so on; at least, I hearn Josiah Norton say so when he come home from down to south where he had been pedling a spell. Si ses to me, ses he, ‘Please goodness! but that’s a poor country down yander; it makes the tears come into the kildear’s eyes when they fly over the old fields. Dod drot me, if you can ever get a drink of cider!! They ain’t got no apples but little runts of things about as big us your thumb and so sour, that when a pig sticks his tooth into ‘em, he lays back his jaw and hollers, you might hear him a mile but it’s ‘eat, pig, or die’ for it’s all he’s got. And then again they’re great for huntin of foxes and if you were to see their hounds! lean, lank, labber-sided pups, that are so poor they have to prop up agin a post-and-rail fence ‘fore they can raise a bark at my tin-cart. It’s the poorest place was ever made.’” “So,” said I, “stranger, you had better come down and judge for yourself, both as to principles and habits. You would be as much pleased, I am sure, as I have been in coming north.”

  Next morning I rose early and started for Lowell in a fine carriage with three gentlemen who had agreed to accompany me. I had heard so much of this place that I longed to see it, not because I had heard of the “mile of gals” no, I left that for the gallantry of the president who is admitted, on that score, to be abler than myself, but I wanted to see the power of the machinery, wielded by the keenest calculations of human skill. I wanted to see how it was that these northerners could buy our cotton and carry it home, manufacture it, bring it back and sell it for half nothing and, in the mean time, be well to live and make money besides.

  We stopped at the large stone house at the head of the falls of the Merrimac river, and having taken a
little re freshment, went down among the factories. The dinner bells were ringing and the folks pouring out of the houses like bees out of a gum. I looked at them as they passed, all well dressed, lively and genteel in their appearance, indeed, the girls looked as if they were coming from a quilting frolic. We took a turn round, and after dining on a fine salmon, again returned and entered the fac tories.

  The out-door appearance was fully sustained by the whole of the persons employed in the different rooms. I went in among the young girls and talked with many of them. Not one expressed herself as tired of her employ ment or oppressed with work; all talked well and looked healthy. Some of them were very handsome and I could not help observing that they kept the prettiest inside and put the homely ones on the outside rows.

  I could not help reflecting on the difference of condi tion between these females, thus employed, and those of other populous countries where the female character is degraded to abject slavery. Here were thousands, useful to others, and enjoying all the blessings of freedom with the prospect before them of future comfort and respecta bility and however we, who only hear of them, may call their houses workshops and prisons, I assure my neigh bors there is every enjoyment of life realized by these persons and there can be but few who are not happy. It cannot be otherwise; respectability depends upon being neighbor-like; here everybody works, and therefore no one is degraded by it; on the contrary, these who don’t work are not estimated.

  There are more than five thousand females employed in Lowell and when you come to see the amount of labor performed by them, in superintending the different ma chinery, you will be astonished.

  Twelve years ago, the place where Lowell now rises in all its pride was a sheep-pasture. It took its name from Francis C. Lowell, the protector of its manufactories, and was incorporated in I826, then a mere village. The fall, obtained by a canal from the Merrimac river, is thirty-two feet affording two levels for mills of thirteen and seventeen feet; and the whole waters of the river can be used.

  There are about fourteen thousand inhabitants. It con tains nine meeting-houses, appropriates seven thousand five hundred dollars for free schools, provides instruction for twelve hundred scholars, daily, and about three thousand annually partake of its benefits. It communicates with Boston by the Middlesex canal, (the first ever made in the United States), and in a short time the railroad to Boston will be completed, affording every facility of in tercourse to the seaboard.

  This place has grown by and must depend on its manufactures. Its location renders it important, not only to the owners, but to the nation. Its consumption not only employs the thousands of its own population, but many thousands far away from them. It is calculated not only to give individual happiness and prosperity, but to add to our national wealth and independence instead of de pending on foreign countries, to have our own material worked up in our own country.

  Some of the girls attended three looms and they make from one dollar seventy-five cents to three dollars per week after paying their board. These looms weave fifty-five yards per day so that one person makes one hundred and sixty-five yards per day. Everything moves on like clock-work in all the variety of employments and the whole manufacture appears to be of the very best.

  The owner of one of the mills, Mr. Lawrence, presented me with a suit of broadcloth made out of wool bought from Mark Cockral of Mississippi, who sold them about four thousand pounds, and it was as good cloth as the best I ever bought for best imported.

  The calico made here is beautiful and of every variety of figure and color. To attempt to give a description of the manner in which it is stamped and colored is far be yond my abilities. One thing I must state that after the web is wove, and before they go further, it is actually passed over a red-hot cylinder to scorch off the furze. The number of different operations is truly astonishing and if one of my countrywomen had the whole of the persons in her train that helped to make her gown, she should be like a captain on a field muster and yet, when you come to look at the cost, it would take a trunk full of them to find these same people in living for one day.

  I never witnessed such a combination of industry and perhaps never will again. I saw the whole process, from the time they put in the raw material until it came out completely finished. In fact, it almost came up to the old story of a fellow walking into a patent machine with a bundle of wool under his arm, and coming out at the other end with a new coat on.

  Nothing can be more agreeable than the attention that is paid by every one connected with these establishments. Nothing appears to be kept secret, every process is shown and with great cheerfulness. I regret that more of our southern and western men do not go there, as it would help much to do away with their prejudices against these manufactories.

  I met the young gentlemen of Lowell, by their par ticular request, at supper. About one hundred sat down. Everything was in grand order and went off well. They toasted me and I enlightened them by a speech as good as I could make and, indeed, I considered them a good set of fellows and as well worth speaking to as any ones I had met with. The old saying, “them that don’t work should not eat,” don’t apply to them, for they are rale workies and know how to act genteel, too; for I assure you I was not more kindly and hospitably and liberally treated any where than just by these same people.

  After supper I went to my lodgings for the night. Next morning, I took another range round the town and re turned to Boston.

  Part of this evening I spent at Lieutenant Governor Armstrong’s, where I met a number of ladies and gen tlemen. Part of it went off very pleasantly with my worthy landlord in his private rooms and I do him the justice to say that while he supplied his visiters with every thing that was nice, he had also picked out for himself as pretty a little bird as ever fluttered and is in good keeping with everything about the establishment.

  Having been invited to the theatre, I went over and sat a short time to be looked at. I was very genteel and quiet and so I suppose I disappointed some of them, who expected to see a half horse half alligator sort of fellow.

  This was my last night in Boston and I am sure, if I never see the place again, I never can forget the kind and friendly manner in which I was treated by them. It appeared to me that every body was anxious to serve me and make my time agreeable. And as a proof that comes home, when I called for my bill next morning, I was told there was no charge to be paid by me and that he was very much delighted that I had made his house my home. I forgot to mention that they treated me so in Lowell, but it is true. This was, to me, at all events, proof enough of Yankee liberality and more than they gen erally get credit for. In fact, from the time I entered New England, I was treated with the greatest friendship and I hope never shall forget it and I wish all who read this book, and who never were there, would take a trip among them. If they don’t learn how to make money, they will know how to use it and if they don’t learn industry, they will see how comfortable everybody can be that turns his hands to some employment.

  Next day the stage called for me at seven o’clock and I took my departure from Boston and went to Providence in Rhode Island. Here I was invited to dine at two of the hotels, but declined both. In fact, I was tired out and wanted a day or two to get rested; and my face being turned towards Washington and my business, I thought I had better go ahead.

  We had, from Providence, what they call a pretty con siderable of a run, and landed safely in New York, that city of eternal din and confusion.

  I spent that evening with some ladies and gentlemen and rode out with —— —— in his carriage, faster than I ever was driven by horse power, for twenty-five miles.

  Next morning I took my leave of the city of New York and arrived safely in Philadelphia.

  Having promised Mr. Hoy of Camden to call and see him on my return, and having fixed the time, I went over accompanied by several gentlemen to the Jersey shore, where there were a great many people waiting to receive me. They gave me the hand of friendship and appeared pleased that I had c
ome over to see them. We proceeded to Mr. Hoy’s and then I took a walk around through Camden. On returning to Mr. Hoy’s I took some refreshments and was called on for a toast, but begged off, as I expected to be called on for one at dinner.

  Some time after this we were asked in to dinner and heard some one say he had lost his pocket-book. And in a few minutes a second cry was raised that another man had lost his pocket-book. I then felt for mine, but I felt in vain; it was gone, with one hundred and sixty-eight dollars in it. I told them there was another gentleman that had his deposits removed and it must be a Jackson man who did it, as it was all on their own plan. But as I was among my friends, I knew I was not just a broke man and therefore I shut pan on the subject and fell to eating my dinner. We had every thing that was good to eat and abundance of fine wine, so we soon forgot the ills of life. After the table was cleared and some toasts drunk, they toasted me in a very handsome manner, complimenting me highly for the course I had taken as a public servant. I returned my gratitude in a speech of about half an hour but which, as is said in certain advertisements, would be too tedious to insert.